BloodLust (Rise of the Iliri Book 1)

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BloodLust (Rise of the Iliri Book 1) Page 29

by Auryn Hadley


  A soldier stepped into her path, halting her. He looked vaguely familiar, but the scowl on his face warned her that his intentions were not kind.

  "Remember me, bitch?" he asked.

  She looked at him in confusion, his features not registering in her mind. She shook her head, "No, should I?"

  "Well, you're wearing my blacks, scrubber."

  She saw the blade too late, its oiled surface held close against his hip. The man stepped toward her, and Sal tried to dodge, but slammed into Arden's shoulder. The sweet pain of the blade slipped between her ribs and she gasped. The bloodlust exploded in her mind.

  The movement caught Cyno's attention. He turned to Sal, but she was pressed between her mare and the man, slowly sliding down her horse toward the ground.

  "Sal!" he screamed in her ears and mind at once.

  She tried to react, but her body refused to move like she predicted. Her right hand pulled a knife, hours of training reminding her muscles of their job even as her mind failed her. The blade sliced at her attacker when her body collapsed, cutting into the man's hip toward the inside of his knee. His flesh parted easily but his leathers wrenched the weapon from her weak grasp. The human yanked his dagger from her body and liquid bubbled in her throat. It was her own blood.

  Things were moving so slow. She felt Arden shy to the side and watched Cyno rush toward her like an enraged beast. He launched himself at the soldier, hitting him like a predator. His eyes were as cold as ice, his favorite resin blade catching the light when it aimed for the man's heart, his hand closed around the man's throat.

  No. She stopped Cyno's blade with a whisper of a thought. Don't.

  If Cyno killed the man in front of so many witnesses, not even Blaec would be able to prevent the military's punishment. While time crawled in her consciousness, she watched Cyno throw the man to the ground, the edge of his blade denting his skin without cutting.

  Beautiful, she thought, and rested her head against the ground.

  The searing pain in her side called to her, making her want to pull herself to her feet and tear Cyno's leathers from him, but her body couldn't do it. Moaning, she writhed on the ground, a spasm of coughing spewing blood from her lips as time caught back up.

  Men from the crowd jumped on the attacker, pinning him to the dirt. Cyno released him and spun to her side. Feet thundered on the ground. The Blades were coming, they had to be. They wouldn't leave her alone. The cries of the men around her, calling for aid, blurred into a jumble and only Cyno's eyes held her attention. She reached up, wanting him, but he ignored his desire and restrained her. He was breathing too fast, his muscles too tense. He wasn't giving in to the passion that enveloped them both. Blaec called into her mind but she couldn't manage to answer him, her thoughts too weak to send.

  "I want that man!" Blaec yelled above the commotion, wrath spilling from every syllable. "Secure him, damn it." Walking quickly, he made it to her side, gesturing for someone to hurry.

  "Sal," he begged. "Hang on, love. Fuck, just hang on."

  She coughed again, the spasms pulling her body from the ground, and realized that someone was pressing hard against her side. The pain of the assistance and the blood in her mouth caused her passions to flare. Her pale eyes met Blaec's, and she tried to let him know she was trying, while she gasped for breath through the blood thickening in her lungs. She needed to sit up but couldn't make either man understand. Both of her lovers whispered to her, begging her for something, refusing to comprehend that she was drowning.

  Dark hooves sprayed sand across her, coming so close that Sal tried to move. Blaec slid his arms under her and pulled her from the ground, pain making her cry out. The sound was like a woman in ecstasy. She felt a second set of hands wrenching her apart before pressing her close against his chest. Her head up, Sal managed to find the air that had been eluding her. Sucking great gasps, she looked at the strong jaw of Zep, set hard in anger, the rocking of Cessa beneath her somehow soothing. She could see over Zep's shoulder and watched her lovers fade into the dust of their wake, Blaec's green eyes longing, Cyno's pale face streaked with tears. She sighed, and her head meet Zep's shoulder as blackness took her.

  Both men watched Zep's retreat for only a moment before turning to the attacker held by two men in blue. Blaec recognized his face and his anger flared.

  "Bardus," he spat. "You didn't figure out that I won't tolerate this when I kicked you from the trials?"

  "I just took yer iliri cunt from ya, how's it feel, Lieutenant?" the would-be assassin sneered.

  Cyno lunged but Blaec grabbed him across the chest, holding the powerful assassin back with every ounce of strength he had. "That's my cunt, ya piece of shit," Cyno growled. "She's MINE!"

  Stop! Blaec ordered, the power of his voice in Cyno's mind the only thing able to pierce the haze the assassin was under. "Cyno," he said aloud this time, calmly. "Enough."

  "Yes, sir." Cyno let out a breath, relaxing, but only barely.

  The crowd parted as the General moved toward them. "Lieutenant, what's going on?" he asked, taking in the scene. Sal's blood still darkened the ground by their feet.

  "General Albin, your soldier," Blaec said, "just tried to kill one of mine."

  "That fuckin' scrubber cunt ain't a damned soldier!" Bardus said as he struggled to pull free of the men holding him, blood streaming down his leg. "It's his play toy. Ain't a scrubber able to make 'leet ops, everyone knows that"

  Cyno lunged again, and this time Blaec let him get even closer. His deathly blue stare marked every feature of the man before him. Bardus shrank away from the vengeance in the assassin's eyes.

  "Have you ever seen a berserker before, Lance Corporal Bardus?" Blaec asked, keeping his tone calm. "The sight of blood sends them into a frenzy. Only years of training can teach them how to control their urges. Only discipline can keep them in check."

  Bardus gulped, transfixed by Cyno's stare while Blaec spoke. "I have two in the Blades. Each one is loyal to me, but loyalty can only restrain them so much. That girl you just knifed is one." He paused, watching Bardus try to peel his eyes from Cyno's. "This is the other, and you just spilled his lover's blood all over him."

  "Fuck," Bardus whispered, realizing that his life was in real danger.

  "I'm going ta skin ya, you bastard, and make ya eat yer own flesh," Cyno breathed. "Ya will pay fer this."

  "Cyno," the Lieutenant said again, sternly this time. Not here.

  The lithe man forced himself to relax and turned away from the attacker. "I can na be here, LT," he said.

  "We need your report, Cyno," LT told him, adding in his mind, She's with Risk. Zep's there, too. We'll know as soon as they do, and you'd only hurt her more right now.

  "Yes, sir."

  "I want the prisoner in the stocks!" the General commanded. "Lieutenant, I need your report and then I'll deal with that man. Was it your iliri he attacked?"

  Cyno tensed at the tone of the General's voice, struggling to act professionally. Blaec assured him, again, that Risk would bring Sal through this as he answered. "Yes sir, it was. She was with us, heading in to report from our last mission. He seems to think she is the reason he failed out of the Black Blades."

  "Ah, I see. Well, come tell me what you found." He expected their obedience.

  The General walked into his tent and threw himself into a chair behind an elaborate desk, offering the simple chair across from it to the Lieutenant. Cyno stood beside his commander, his body at parade rest. Arctic, Shift and Razor moved beside them, standing quietly.

  "All right, tell me what you learned," the General said, a casual gesture encouraging them to get on with it.

  "Sir," Blaec started, "I'm sure Llyr has already briefed you on the mission in the Escean Pass. The supply train was not hauling metal, like we'd been led to believe, but iliri heads."

  "Yes, yes," the General muttered. "I know that. And the Black Blades took some crates. Llyr said you seemed pretty impressed with them?"

  "Yes, sir
. The crates include documents from the landing. They are written in iliran, by an iliri."

  "Not much use to us then."

  "I had Cyno translate them," Blaec said, holding his face stoic.

  The General looked at the small man, noticing just how pale his skin was. "Ah, you're iliri as well. Well, that makes more sense. What did the papers say, boy?"

  "Says we, the iliri, were specific'lly designed and bred to be the ideal soldiers, sir." He took a deep breath, and continued, trying to control his accent. "They have detailed descriptions of human colonization of the continent, as well."

  "Good to know," the General said. "So what took you so long to get back?"

  Blaec answered, "The oxen used to pull the wagon were slow. Just above Skyline Creek, we encountered the Black Widow Company. It appears the reports of their presence were correct."

  "And you trailed them?"

  "No, sir." A smile pulled at the corner of Blaec's lip. "The Black Widow Company set up the caravan through the Escean Pass as an ambush. They hoped to draw the Black Blades into combat, but it seems we cleaned that up too fast." He paused. "With the heavy cav's help, of course."

  "Lieutenant, I don't care what's between you and Llyr. What I want to know, is where the Black Widow Company is, and what we can do to stop them."

  "About twenty a them are in a cave, rotting," Cyno growled softly.

  The General glared at him, but Blaec nodded. "Corporal Cynortas is correct. We were ambushed by the Black Widows and took refuge in a set of caves along Skyline Creek – "

  "There's caves up there?"

  "Yes, sir. About a year ago, when Rok sent those assassins over the pass, that's where they were hiding. We flushed them out of the same caves, so had a bit of experience with them."

  "And this time you hid from the Black Widows in there?"

  "Lured, sir," Arctic clarified. "We used the caverns to even the odds."

  "Give this to me straight, Doll. Tell me what I need to know, without all the bullshit."

  "Sir," Blaec said with a sigh. "We killed about twenty of the twenty-five men of Black Widow Company. Five were able to get away and two others may have been only wounded on the way in instead of killed. It was somewhat hard to be sure at a full gallop."

  "Casualties?"

  "None, sir."

  "Injuries?" the General pressed.

  Shift held up his hand, the red line of his healing wound visible. "I stepped into a man's blade in the dark, sir."

  The General nodded, processing the information. He reached for a pen, scrawled a few notes. "Do we have any idea of where the real bribe is?"

  "Not yet, sir," Arctic answered.

  "Thank you, soldier." He turned to Blaec, changing the subject. "Don't you think it's improper for your officers to fraternize so openly?"

  Blaec felt the growl in Cyno's mind and shot his soldier a warning glance. "Sir, since there is no rule against officers of equal rank co-mingling, I refuse to make my men remain chaste any more than you do yours. Cynortas and Luxx are the best assassins I have, and I've heard no complaints from you about their efficacy. The Black Blades are an elite unit. My men are required to have skills that often carry baggage. If one of your soldiers hadn't spilled blood in the middle of camp, their relationship wouldn't have become public knowledge outside of our own ranks."

  "Agreed. I can't say that I understand your urges, soldier," the General told Cyno, "but so long as you can maintain proper protocols, I won't make an issue of this."

  "Sir?" Blaec asked. "What will Bardus's punishment be, and will I have a say in it?"

  "Most likely he'll be digging latrines for a month." The General shrugged it off. "That should make him think next time."

  "That's unacceptable, General," Blaec said too calmly. "That man just tried to murder a superior officer and has removed one eighth of my operational forces."

  "What do you want me to do, Lieutenant? Court-martial him?"

  "That's exactly what I expect you to do, General."

  "Shit, man!" the General gasped. "I can't go hanging a soldier for damaging a conscript. There's five more where she came from."

  "Cyno!" Blaec snapped. "Wait for me outside. That's an order. The rest of you as well."

  "Yes sir," Cyno said, his jaw clenched tightly. When he stormed from the tent, Blaec whispered thanks into his mind, conveying reassurance. The others followed him quietly.

  "General," Blaec began, "I know this is hard for you to understand, but each of my soldiers is a unique unit. Regardless of the color of their skin, my men have passed extensive trials. Each one is worth five of your common soldiers on a bad day. The Conglomerate has invested hundreds of krits into their training and they should be viewed as an asset to the nation, if nothing else."

  "Damn it, Lieutenant, are you a scrubber sympathizer?"

  "I value my troops, sir. That iliri woman your man just put in the infirmary could take me down on her worst day. How many humans do you think could say the same?"

  "Fine. What do you want me to do? If I hang the man, we'll have a riot in the ranks."

  "Treat her like an asset? Court-martial him for damaging the property of the Conglomerate. The punishment for destroying that many krits worth of inventory is death, isn't it?" Blaec raised an eyebrow smugly at the General, knowing he had no option but to agree.

  "Fine. The jury will be made of his peers, though, and I'll have witnesses both from the ranks as well as your Black Blades. If the jury finds him guilty, we'll let them set the sentence, within the laws."

  "Agreed." Blaec nodded once. "Now if you need nothing further, I have a soldier who may be dying. I'd like to check on her status."

  "Fine. Just answer me one thing."

  "Sir?"

  "Did just eight of you take out the Black Widow Company?"

  "Yes sir, we did." Blaec smiled.

  Maybe Sal had been right after all. Maybe proving they were better than humans really was the only way to win, but he knew it wouldn't be an easy fight. He just had to decide what he was willing to give up: her, his position, or the security they'd enjoyed for so long by pretending to be human.

  "Thank you, Lieutenant," the General mumbled, "you're dismissed."

  Blaec saluted and left the tent.

  Chapter 41

  She burned. Every nerve ending in her body cried out, first in pain, then desire. Her back arched, her nipples pressed against the rough black linen of her shirt, and she screamed, begging for more, wishing for it to end. Strong hands pinned her shoulders to the bed and she pulled at them, her pale skin stark against his black, the blood on her hands clinging to him, her thoughts whispering how much she wanted him closer. Her mind teased the edges of his thoughts.

  Another wave of pain and another scream slipped from her. Sal's ears turned to the deep voice soothing her, but all she could manage to do was beg.

  "Please," she whispered. "Please!"

  "How much more, Risk?" Zep asked, her cries cutting through him. "I can't hold her forever, and she's clawing at my mind."

  The golden iliri nodded, never taking his eyes from Sal. Her shirt was unbuttoned, exposing the wound, her pale breast only inches from his hand. The deep red gash refused to close. He nodded again, filling his lungs, and when he exhaled, he focused so hard his brow wrinkled.

  Sal screamed. Her pale eyes saw nothing as they flicked across the room, her body trying its best to preserve her sanity. When the convulsion passed, she began to relax, breathing deeply, excitedly, then screamed again at the next wave. Zep felt her mind begging for his as he watched the wound close, an angry pink line the only sign that it had been there.

  "Please," she whispered, grabbing at his arms.

  "Risk?" Zep asked.

  "She's good, as good as I can get her. The damned blade was poisoned. I got her fixed up, but it's going to leave the mark."

  "She can deal with that. Damn it, man. I think it's time for you to go. It's got her hard."

  Risk nodded and struggled t
o his feet. He swayed, grabbing Zep's shoulder for support before making his way out of the tent.

  Seeing her laying in the street, Zep thought she was already dead. When Blaec handed her up to him, he'd seen the look on Cyno's face, every protective instinct screaming at the assassin to guard what was his. Holding her now, Zep walked a fine line, but he hoped his history with the little assassin would save him from the man's wrath. He released his hold on the girl, her body writhing, and glanced around the tent – Cyno's tent.

  "Ah, shit," he breathed when Sal's eyes found his. The passion was truly on her, the taste of her own blood and the pain of the healing throwing her beyond any hope of control. "I'm here, Sal," he told her, brushing her hair from her face, hoping Cyno wasn't too far behind.

  Her mind hit him hard, smothering him with sexual need.

  She moaned softly and leaned toward him, grabbing his neck, dragging him to her. The feel of her skin made his heart beat faster, calling to something inside him, and he wrapped one arm around her back, pulling her closer. Her breath caressed his lips just before he felt her tongue. Struggling for control, Zep crushed her against him, groaning when her hand slid up his thigh and her tongue down his throat.

  He kissed down her neck, the bitter taste of her skin flavored by the salt of old blood, and he felt his need rising to meet hers. Sal struggled with his shirt, fumbling with the buttons in her haze. He pulled away only long enough to lift it over his head. Her small hands forced him back against her. Their lips met again, her fingers sliding below his waistband, smooth against the soft hair below his navel. He grabbed her wrists.

  She was strong, he thought, damned strong, and his own desires were trying to convince him to let her have her way. He could feel his heart beating, pounding in his chest, and he heard his own breath, ragged in his ears.

  Cyno! he called, begging the little man to hurry.

  Her tongue traced lines against his shoulder and she drew a row of kisses, broken by rough bites, across his chest. Zep moaned softly. She heard his desire and bit harder, his flesh tearing beneath the pleasure of her teeth. When he gasped in pain, she pulled back before her teeth returned – gently this time. Bleeding, but caught inside Sal's mind, he felt his resistance slipping away.

 

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