Blood of an Ancient: A Beri O'Dell Book, Book 2

by Rinda Elliott

  By the time his face was clean, tears tracked down my cheeks and they didn’t stop as I continued his sponge bath. He still wore the ratty jeans and I thought about removing them to make him clean all over, but there wasn’t that much water and I still had his back to do.

  I didn’t want to roll him onto the dirt-and-stone floor to clean his back, so I looked down at the huge T-shirt I’d worn to bed—one of his—and shrugged before pulling it off. I spread it out before carefully rolling him onto his stomach. His back made me gasp.

  Thin, red stripes crisscrossed the entire surface, some of the lines cutting deep into his flesh. I choked on a sob and wished I’d started with his back because the water was dirty now. Then I remembered the other bucket and got up to fetch it.

  This time, I rolled him over and tried to pour some water into his mouth, but it came out too hard and fast, and though he compulsively swallowed a couple of times, I was afraid he’d choke. So I turned him to his stomach again and started with wringing water out of the towel over his skin, letting the liquid loosen up the crud that had been left to dry on him. Then I gently wiped around each cut, my anger growing so fast, so strong I didn’t know how I held it inside my body. My hands shook and tears dropped onto his back.

  “I swear I’m coming for you. I’m close. Please, please hang on until I can get here.”

  I wanted to put the shirt on him because putting his clean skin back on that pallet made my stomach clench into knots. But how would he explain the shirt? It would probably make things worse for him.

  There was a little water left, so I stood and worked to get him back on the pallet, glad for my extra strength because he was a big man. His broad shoulders spanned the thin mattress and his feet hung off the end. It was still hard to move him. I maneuvered him onto his stomach. His back needed the air. Then, I sat by his head and poured water into his hair before running through it with my fingers. I did this over and over until most of the tangles had been removed. Some of them would probably never come out. He’d have to cut his hair.

  He looked more peaceful when I was finished. I didn’t know if feeling clean made him rest better or just having water inside his body had helped. I didn’t care. I came back around, tucked his wet hair behind him and stared at the side of his face.

  I must have sat there for hours and the whole time, I wondered if I could just stay—if I could pull off the ankhs and stay here to help fight and get him away from the monster who’d hurt him like this. Or was this really a detailed, cognizant dream that I would wake from no matter how much I wanted to be with him?

  When his black lashes fluttered against his cheek, I leaned forward, held my breath. He moaned.

  “I promise to come get you.”

  Dark eyes flew open and he stared at me in shock before he tried to push himself up off the pallet. The look of pain that slashed across his features stabbed into me.

  “No, don’t move. You have to let your back heal. Stay down. I washed you as best I could and I’ve been here awhile, but I’m sure it’s not for much longer.”

  He settled back onto his stomach, his gaze dropping to my chest.

  I’d forgotten to put my shirt back on. Knowing the blush would spread over my chest as well as my face, I didn’t grab the shirt or cover myself. He reached out, one hand softly touching my breast before his eyes closed. I pressed his hand to me before lifting it and kissing his scraped knuckles.

  His eyes flew open. “Washed me? With what?”

  “Please tell me your jailer will give you more drinking water. I squeezed a lot of water into your mouth, but you were so dirty and the wounds could get infected.”

  “Washed me with what?” he repeated.

  “There were buckets—” I broke off at the look of complete terror that filled his expression. “What?”

  “Which one did you use?”

  “Both! You were a mess.”

  He shuddered, closed his eyes. “They were left there to taunt me. I refused to use them.”

  “Is that why you were dirty and your lips were cracked?” The shaky alarm in his voice had everything in me freezing. “What was wrong with the water in the buckets, Nikolos?”

  He only groaned and curled his hand into a fist before he forced himself to sit up. “I drank it? Did I swallow the water?”

  His fear, so palpable, had my heart beating so hard I could hear its pounding in my ears. I nodded.

  “Gods.” He closed his eyes and slumped forward, then grabbed me and pulled me into his lap. He was mumbling something under his breath over and over and even though I was close to him, I had to really listen to make sense of the words. “I won’t forget. I won’t forget.”

  “You’re scaring me to death. What was wrong with the water in the buckets?”

  He didn’t answer, merely wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my neck. My breasts pressed into his chest.

  I pushed back, hoping I didn’t hurt him, but I needed to see his face. “Please talk to me. Tell me why you didn’t want the water in the bucket.” I cupped his cheeks, stared into his eyes. “Please. Tell me.”

  He shuddered and only clutched me closer before pulling back just enough to bring our lips together. His tongue swept into my mouth, the desperation in his movements feeding my fear even as the feel and the taste of him made me squirm as close as I could get. Calloused fingers clutched my back as his hips bucked against me.

  I tasted blood, remembered his cracked lips and wrenched back, breathing heavily, feeling as if most of my body had turned into nothing but heat. His beautiful, nearly black eyes glittered at me, lids halfway down, his desire and need so raw it burned into me, branded me. I ran my hands over his wide, strong shoulders, feeling muscles that seemed even more honed than they had before.

  His gaze dropped to my breasts as his hands moved around my sides to cup them.

  I gasped and had to shut my eyes. His touch filled me with joy, but the intense emotion in his gaze overwhelmed me. So much. I felt so very much right then, I half expected to disappear.

  The thought of disappearing made my eyes fly back open. We might not have much time. I pushed off his lap, stood and took my pants off. Nikolos started shaking his head, even as his gaze stroked my entire body, his lips opened wider as his breaths came faster.

  I knew why he shook his head. We weren’t prepared for this, but in that moment I didn’t care. We were in the underworld, he could die at any moment and I could die trying to get to him. We were together on stolen time and this connection felt like the most important thing in the world. All of the worlds.

  I knelt and reached for the top of his jeans.

  “I don’t know about this, Beri,” he said, tone ragged, low.

  “I do. I need you, Nikolos. I think you need me too.” I brushed my hand over his belly, unfastened his jeans and slid my hand inside.

  He groaned, closed his eyes. “I do, but I don’t know how long I have.”

  “Don’t you mean we have?”

  This time, his gaze crawled with something that sent my fear back into overdrive.

  “What?” I whispered.

  Nikolos only shook his head, eyes stark with grief. Blatant, naked grief. He lifted and helped me tug down his pants, then just shook his head and pulled me onto his lap. He touched the slow-healing scar on my leg, then cupped my face. “Promise me you won’t come back here after this.”

  “No. I won’t. I can’t.”

  He growled and lifted my body up enough to slide into me. “Promise me,” he hissed through gnashed teeth.

  I gasped at the feel of him inside me, not caring that the gritty dirt dug into my knees. Shaking, I sucked air deep into my lungs and wrapped my arms around his neck, careful to keep away from the wounds on his back. “I will not promise, so give it up,” I said into his ear. “You’re mine. They can’t have you.”

  Before he could argue or growl at me again, I kissed him. He started to mutter something, but I only increased the pressure, slid my fing
ers into his wet hair and moved my body on his. When I pulled back for air, all he did was shudder, grip me tight and buck his hips harder. His eyes stared into mine, something savage moving in them as he let go and poured all his need into movement. I tightened my legs, touched his face, his lips as the heat built inside me. When I cried out, Nikolos moaned, gaze locked on my face, his fingers clenched in my hair.

  “I love you,” he said against my lips. “I will always love you.”

  I tightened my arms. “I love you too and one of these days, we’re going to do this when we aren’t covered in wounds.” I waited for his chuckle and when it didn’t come, I pulled back to find the grief had returned to his face. “Please don’t look at me like that,” I whispered, cupping his face, moving my body on his. I bit my lip, shook as emotion crowded in to battle with the desire still burning strong in me.

  “You can’t come here again.” This time, his words rumbled in a half growl and his fingers tightened on my skin to the point of pain. The moan that came from his mouth in that moment was a mix of release, desperation and terror. “No!”

  Alarmed, I leaned back, wincing as his hands dug into my spine. Then he shoved me off him. Hard. He stood and let out the most goddess-awful roar of rage. The noise filled the cell and crawled inside me. He picked up one of the buckets and threw it against the wall so hard it cracked into two pieces.

  Sure the racket would attract attention, I swiped my pants and shirt off the floor and pulled them on. I wasn’t facing whatever came down those steps naked. Nikolos wasn’t done. He raged, storming across the cell to pick up the pieces of bucket and smash them against the stone again. His back seeped, blood trickling in thin rivulets to soak his jeans. He turned suddenly and the red filling his eyes sent me to the wall. He snarled and came toward me with slow, deliberate steps.

  Before he was within reaching distance, I ducked and moved along the wall to the other side of the room. He swung his head around. I saw narrowed eyes that no longer looked like his own. The color was just gone, overcome completely by the red. He came at me again, moving fast, slamming me against the wall before I could sidle away this time.

  The back of my head hit stone hard and I shut my eyes to combat the instant dizziness. Stars winked behind my lids. I gasped and felt the trickle of warm blood soaking into my hair. “Nikolos,” I whispered, focusing on him, looking for some kind of recognition in his face.

  He picked me up and slammed me into the wall again before pressing his body hard against mine.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, my mouth to his ear. “Stop it. Feel me, know me. This is me, Beri, loving you.”

  He wedged between my legs, cupped my crotch and then growled in frustration. He pulled back enough to tug at my pants.

  “Oh no,” I breathed and shoved him. Hard. He stumbled back, but came at me again. I put both hands on his chest and pushed with all my strength. This time, he didn’t run at me, just stood, breathing hard and staring.

  “I’m not letting you at me when you’re like this. Tell me what’s happening!”

  A loud metal clank sounded and I realized there must be another gate beyond the stairs. I couldn't see much through the metal-slat gate down here. Nikolos released another one of those rage-filled cries and came toward me again.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, reaching up to grab the ankhs in my palm and squeeze.

  The last thing I saw as liquid fire poured through me was a claw-tipped hand opening the gate that led into his cell.

  I sat up in the motel bed to find Blythe and Phro hovering over me, Blythe’s face streaked with tears.

  “You were gone,” she wailed. “Fenris said you hadn’t left the room, and Phro said that you were dream traveling.” She wrung her hands. “We only did the spell that once so it shouldn’t have happened again.”

  The transition from the horror of that cell to here had me blinking at them both before the emotional pain slammed into my chest. I brought up my legs, buried my face in my knees and tried to remember how to breathe. Hot tears burned my eyes.

  “Beri.” Phro spoke softly. “Beri, you have blood on your shirt and in your hair. Is it your blood?”

  I couldn’t find my words. Not yet. All I could do was rock and try to shove the image of his terror out of my mind. It wouldn’t leave and I choked back a sob.

  “I think some of that blood is hers, Blythe. Go get warm water and a washcloth.”

  I heard Blythe’s slippers rustling over the carpet as she moved to do what Phro asked.

  “You went back to that dimension again, didn’t you?”

  I finally looked up at my spirit guide. “I didn’t go on purpose.”

  “You bled there.”

  “Nikolos—”

  Both black eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Nikolos made you bleed?”

  “Yes. Something happened down there. He was unconscious and covered in dirt and blood. His lips were cracked. I made him drink water and washed his body and when he woke up and found out I’d done that, he went crazy. His eyes turned red and I think he was trying to either kill me or assault me.”

  Blythe stood behind Phro with the bowl I’d seen her crush herbs in and a washcloth. “Nikolos tried to assault you?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. It was like he was full of rage, but before that he said the water was there to taunt him and he wouldn’t forget.”

  Phro’s clothes changed from the red slinky dress to her white toga, and she went translucent.

  “Do you know what was wrong then?” I asked.

  “If he was very dirty and thirsty, then he was afraid of the water.”

  “Phro, that part was very clear to me. Why would he be afraid of the water?”

  “It was probably water from the River Lethe. The spirits drink of it to forget their earthly lives.”

  “But that’s good, right? It will make his stay there tolerable.”

  She shook her head, her mouth turned down.

  “Is it permanent?” I whispered.

  “If he drinks enough of it, yes. It takes time and lots of exposure.”

  “And I bathed him in it.” The guilt that hit me then filled all the space, took all my air.

  Blythe came forward. “Let me look at the back of your head. I saw the blood when you bent just now.”

  I turned and stared at the wall, not even flinching when Blythe probed around the wound then started washing the blood out of my hair. “I didn’t know.” I spoke slowly, the horror of what I’d done hitting me over and over. “I didn’t know. I only saw that he was parched and dirty, and I wanted to make him comfortable.”

  Phro sighed, became more solid as she moved into my peripheral vision. “There are many things about the Realm of the Discarded that will change a person. It’s best not to eat or drink anything there.”

  “But he has to eat and drink. He’d be dead by now if he hasn’t been.”

  “There are safe things to eat and there’s even safe water. But some of the rivers aren’t for humans. Some generate hate, some infinite sadness. But the River Lethe is the most powerful one. Whoever has him probably didn’t want him to forget yet and hasn’t been giving him that water. It sounds like this was another form of torture.”

  “He was covered in red lines like he’d been whipped.”

  Phro nodded. “Standard for some jailers. Whip the prisoner, then leave water not fit to use. They would leave him down there until hunger and thirst would force his hand.”

  “Or his girlfriend dream travels there and gives him a sponge bath.” I covered my face with my hands, but I couldn’t hide from my fear. I’d done this to him. Unknowingly, yes, but I had experience in otherworld politics—I knew not to take everything at face value. Not even a fucking bucket of water.

  Blythe laid her hand on my shoulder. “I bet you did make him feel more comfortable, Beri. And what you did was out of love. You can’t beat yourself up over this when you had no idea what you were doing.”

  I twisted and looked at
Phro. “When I do go down there to get him, will you come?”

  She faded until she was nothing more than a shimmer.

  “Aphrodite, you will know more about what’s dangerous there. You can help me. I promise I won’t leave you there.”

  She nodded. I knew only from the shimmering movement of her hair before she disappeared altogether.

  “You said Fenris told you I didn’t leave?”

  Blythe nodded.

  “Where is he?”

  “He is out doing whatever sprite vampires do at night.”

  “I figured he was long gone by now. I lost track of him when the ghoul was here.”

  “He didn’t leave. When I saw you were gone, I went outside and he was just flying around the Jeep. He handed me the leash and said he would help us, that he doesn’t have to be tied up.”

  I raised my knees and rested my forehead on them. “I can’t stand knowing Nikolos is in that horrid place. Can’t stand it.”

  “I know,” Blythe said, voice low. She crawled up the middle of my bed to sit beside me. Her arm was warm against my cold body when she put it around me.

  For once, I appreciated the touch, the offer of comfort. My insides, most especially my heart, felt like shredded meat.

  “I’m sorry we had to come here looking for Sophie.”

  The real regret threading her whispered words made me lift my head to look at her. Yellow light from the cheap lamp between our beds fell onto her pale face. “I’m not sorry, Blythe. We need your magic back, and not just for the spell with the elemental. You can’t live your life putting out fires.” I worked hard to pull up a teasing grin but failed. My emotions were still too raw from that ordeal in the dungeon.

  I couldn’t stop worrying. What had I done to him by giving him that water? Would he even know me when I reached him again…and would I have reason to regret having unprotected sex with him? Frazzled thoughts, all spinning around in my head like mini-tornadoes.

  “Besides, you don’t make enough money to be able to afford replacing everything all the time.”