by Kiersten Fay
Before the Denaloid could pull the sword back for another strike, she leashed her tail around his wrist and pulled him forward. He let out a staggered cry as her knee made nice with his face, knocking him unconscious.
She scanned for Ethanule. The bastard hadn’t even bothered to move? As if he had no doubt she would never reach him.
She started for him again, but stumbled. Her heart pounded in her skull as though it was housed there instead of her chest. A sickening wave of dizziness followed.
They must have darted her.
The thought fed her fury, and she fought against the coursing poison, vowing she would have her kill before she succumbed.
Just before she reached Ethanule, he rose from his seat. She tightened her grip on the hilt of her weapon and stabbed at him. With too much ease, he sidestepped her maneuver, and she cursed her weakened state.
His hand slipped around her wrist, and with the slightest tilt of his fist, the dagger fell from her sluggish fingers. A wave of exhaustion assailed her.
Black seeped over her vision. When she forced her eyelids open, he was towering above her, his face too close to hers. Was he holding her up?
She gnashed her teeth and growled, but the sound was not as terrifying as intended. The poison had won.
Her last conscious thought was meant for Sebastian. I told you so.
Ethan gazed down at the black haired female demon in his arms. He’d managed to catch her before the sedative had sent her crashing to the ground. Why had he even bothered? The wench had taken out four of his men and wounded three others.
Her horns still glowed with the fury her kind called the Edge. Amazing. He never could have imagined it would take a triple dose to subdue such a tiny thing.
He plucked free the two darts in her right arm and the one in her left hip.
He may have just tranqued her team for now, but that didn’t mean they were saved from death. That would depend if they were the ones the king had warned him of.
Before Ethan had set out on his mission to find the Faieara princesses, King Alastair informed him of the terrible fate that had befallen Princess Analia. Naturally, Ethan assumed these demons were the culprits. After all, he knew their kind to rejoice in barbarity.
But after hearing the way Princess Analia had yelled out her warning to the captain, Ethan now had doubts. There had been a desperate concern in her tone and Ethan’s magic had picked up on her strong protective intent.
Ethan looked over to where Princess Analia lay unconscious, draped over Sebastian’s body.
“Damn,” Ethan muttered, then yelled at his brood, “Whose dart was that!”
Ion stepped forward, jutting his chin. “It was mine.”
“Had I not ordered the princess be untouched? It will take days for the serum to leave her system!”
“I thought it best to take them all down and sort them out later. What does it matter if she sleeps a few days?”
It mattered greatly. Not only would he have a harder time smoothing things over with her, but he would have to wait to get to the king’s next instructions. He was sick of waiting.
“The problem with that sentence, Ion, is that you used ‘I’ and ‘thought.’ I am the leader, and I do the thinking.” Ion shrugged.
This wasn’t the first time Ion had challenged his authority, but it would be the last. Ethan would not risk the life of the princess now that he’d finally found her.
Ethan gently settled the female demon on the rough ground, then stood, drawing his sword. Ion pulled his blade as well, and other Denaloid backed away.
Ethan stood still, using his Faieara gift to anticipate Ion’s first strike. Ion’s swing was swiftly executed with well-trained arms, but Ethan simply stepped out of the way.
Ethan swiped his bade out so swiftly it left a ghostly trail behind as the metal slashed into Ion’s neck. Ion shoved his hand against the thick gash, but blood spurted from between his fingers. His gurgled gasps echoed off the bare cavern walls as his knees hit gravel. His sword fell to the ground in a clatter.
Ethan sheathed his sword and stepped away. He could quicken his foes death, but that was not the Denaloid way. They would wait for his last breath before celebrating the victor.
Ion’s torso dropped to the ground, and after a few moments more, choked on his last breath. The Denaloids erupted in cheers. Ethan’s second in command, Oxnel, came forward to drag Ion’s body out of sight.
Ethan faced his men. “Put the captain and his crew in a cell together. Do it quick. We have no idea how long the demons will remain under. Their metabolism is unique. My bet is they will be the first to wake.”
The Denaloids rushed to obey.
Ethan crossed the room toward Princess Analia. Her blond hair tumbled in waves over the dark ground. He pulled the dart from her shoulder and lifted her in his arms. Her hair fell aside to reveal one of her pointed ears, the only obvious Faieara trait.
For a moment, he considered putting her in his bed while she recovered—respectfully, he would take the couch—but he had no doubt that when she regained consciousness, she’d be disoriented and afraid and would most likely try to escape. And, if he and the king were correct in their assessment of her magic, she would need a special cell with a lock that her gift could not breech.
He disliked the idea of locking her up, especially considering what he knew of her past, but he would do what he could to make it as comfortable for her as possible.
Unbeknownst to her, their courtship had already started.
Chapter 3
Sonya awoke to an agonized bellow of rage that spurred the splitting pain in her head. She groaned and mumbled, “Shut up,” to whoever was making that awful racket.
“It’s no use,” Cale grumbled from somewhere close by. “He’s been at it all day.”
She squinted her eyes open and took in her surroundings. Cale leaned against the far wall. On the opposite side of the room, Sebastian snarled and bashed at the door with his fist. The bodies of the other still-sleeping crew members littered the floor.
One of Aidan’s legs rested heavy over her thighs. His light breathing indicated he wouldn’t be moving of his own accord anytime soon. She shoved his leg aside and heaved to a seated position, taking in the musky scent of soil wafting off the pebbly ground. Thick stone walls closed in on all sides.
They must still be deep within the asteroid. That bastard had betrayed them, after all.
She stood and hopped over a couple of unconscious crew members, heading toward her raging brother. “Sebastian, where is Analia?”
He responded by bashing his shoulder into the door. His horns gave off a brilliant crimson and if he’d taken a second to acknowledge her, she would bet his irises were the same. The Edge had him in its mad embrace.
Sonya rolled her eyes and turned to Cale. He appeared to be calm, but she knew better. Inside, he had to be seething that they had been so easily captured. Same as she.
“We don’t know,” Cale said. “Woke up here just like you with no word of her.”
She threw her hands in the air. “Didn’t I say this was a bad idea?”
Cale gave a bitter smile. “I recall you giving Analia permission to come along.”
Sonya slammed her teeth together before countering, “I meant dealing with a pirate.” She flung her back against the wall next to him and slid down till her ass met the ground. “I almost had him, too.” She clenched her fists.
“Sure you did.”
She shot Cale a sharp look, but didn’t respond, imagining instead what she would have done to that pirate had the drug given her just a few more moments.
It would have been bloody and oh, so satisfying. Unfortunately, all she could do was play back the moment of her failure and contemplate what she should have done differently. How she could have drenched her blade with his blood.
For some reason, the last image of the pirate gazing down at her intruded on her ruthless fantasy. For an instant, there was something in his expression
, something she couldn’t fully recall, but at the time—even with the drug slowing her mind—it had made her heart thunder.
It made her heart thunder even now.
* * *
Ethan dropped the small, yet heavy, package onto his desk and set to opening it. He was quite surprised to discover the demons had not tampered with the package. In fact, they seemed to have kept their word on all aspects of the contract.
A second box resided within the first, made from the most exquisite dark wood and inscribed with Serakian strengthening spells. The inner box was secured by a lock that could not be cracked, even by the finest of locksmiths. Only the code-holder could open it.
Namely, him.
He scrutinized the hieroglyphs on the lock before sliding the correct sequence into place. Then he pulled a small knife from his pocket and pricked his finger. After a bead of his blood welled, he pressed it into the Serakian’s seal.
A light rumbling of gears sounded, followed by a soft click.
He lifted the lid.
Inside rested a thick leather-bound book, lined with an intricate gold weave.
He let out a breath and smiled. “Finally.”
Three hundred and fifty years, and his mission was nearing its end. A heavy dose of gratification coursed through him, and he leaned back in his chair to soak it up.
Then he set to examining the book.
He pulled at the flap, then chuckled at himself when he found it impossible to budge. As with its container, the book had been bespelled. However, no mere code would allow him to open this lock. No knife could pry it free. A world-crushing explosion would do little but apply a generous layer of dust.
Only three people in the universe had the power to unfasten the flap and reveal the secrets inside. Currently, one of those three rested peacefully in a nearby cell, bundled in the finest blankets he had to offer.
The princess had been so young when she and her elder sisters escaped the invasion. He wondered if she even remembered him. Before his constituents had rendered her unconscious, he thought he saw curiosity toward him in her expression, but nothing that might suggest recognition.
A knock sounded at the door, then Oxnel entered. “We’ve received a transmission from a male named Darius. He demands to speak with you.”
Ethan pushed to a stand. “And who is this Darius to make demands?”
“I know not, but he’s contacted us by way of the ancient argot.”
The ancient argot was created by some of the oldest and most revered pirates in history—the private language of the underworld. It comprised of several tongues, as well as algorithms and symbols, and was used primarily for surreptitious communication. This Darius knew something of pirate culture.
Ethan pushed the book aside. “Tell me, have our guests awakened?”
“Only the demons thus far, as you predicted. But I suspect the sleep serum may have had an adverse effect. They are very belligerent.”
“No, my friend,” Ethan muttered while tapping a code into his desk console. “Demons are belligerent on the best of days.”
On the surface of his desk, a panel slid open and a small screen emerged. Nodding his dismissal to Oxnel, Ethan opened the transmission, bringing up the face of a dark-haired male with a chilling gaze.
“Darius, I presume?”
“Yes, and you are the Pirate King?”
Inwardly, Ethan smirked at the moniker. “I am.”
“I seek a female who was abducted from my ship. I suspect she and the culprits who took her may be within your territory.”
Ethan noted the male’s dark expression and instantly disliked him.
Darius continued. “She is petite with long blonde hair and blue eyes.”
“I’ve seen no such female.”
“If you or your…clan…come across anyone who even remotely resembles this female, I am willing to pay a handsome sum for her return. Can I count on your assistance in this matter?”
“For a handsome sum, indeed you can.” Ethan forced a grin as realization hit him. This was the swine from the Faieara king’s vision—the one who’d been holding the princess against her will—not the demons.
“She may very well be on a ship called Marada,” Darius went on. “If you encounter this ship in passing, I wish to be notified of their location immediately.”
“It will be done, as long as we agree upon proper compensation.”
“Price is of no consequence.”
Ethan gave a humorless laugh. “Now, I’ve come to believe people who say things like that are usually greatly overestimating their finances.”
Darius leaned forward so his duplicitous face took up the entire screen. “I don’t overestimate anything.”
“We shall see,” Ethan countered, knowing full well he had no intention of finding out.
Covertly, he attempted to hack Darius’s location, but his ship was either too far away, or the transmission well encrypted.
Darius continued to prattle instructions until he ended the transmission with an abrupt, “See that it is done.” Moments later, Oxnel returned with news that the princess had awakened.
As Ethan made his way through the dank passageways, he caught the tail end of a conversation between the demons and the princess, separated by their cell walls.
“What about Marada? What of the people on board?” the princess asked.
“We don't know,” the demon female replied.
Three loud bangs echoed from the cell, followed by a succession of snarls.
“What was that?” Analia screeched.
The demoness answered, “Sebastian and Cale have been taking turns getting intimately acquainted with a five inch thick metal door.”
Ethan almost chuckled at her blasé tone.
Then a male asked, “Analia, can you…you know…with your lock?”
Ethan stilled.
“No!” a second male snapped. “We'll find another way.”
The princess replied, “What do you mean? The locks need a key.”
Her statement was followed by a brief silence.
“Your lock isn't electronic?” A male said.
“No.”
“Fuck.”
“What's the matter?” Analia asked.
“Ours is.”
Faieara gifts often followed the bloodline. Their interest in the state of the locks confirmed Ethan’s assumption. The princess yielded the same gift as her father’s father, just as the king had predicted.
“Dammit,” the second male snarled. “Analia, I'll get you out of there.”
“Actually,” Ethan interjected, entering the cavern housing the cells. “I'll get her out of there.”
A string of harsh curses flew from the three demons, all aimed at him. Demons had a talent for creative threats, and Ethan had to chuckle when the female promised to rip out his guts through his anus.
“Energetic bunch you all are.” He ignored the rest of their graphic threats, as he stepped forward to unlock Analia’s door.
Face to face, she appraised him with a timid eye, taking in his long dark coat, black pants, and thick black boots. The gold bands on his fingers drew her gaze before she settled back on his face.
Ethan smiled and bowed. “You like?”
He actually did hope she found him handsome, but hid the desire with a sarcastic tone.
Her uneasy expression transformed into fierce disdain. “Why have you locked us up?”
“To keep you from leaving, of course.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
He shrugged. “To answer that, I'll need you to come with me.”
Sebastian bellowed, “Let me out of here, you traitorous vermin. I will rip your head from your body.”
Ethan murmured, “Well, now I will definitely not be letting him out.” He smiled at Analia. “Follow me. My chambers will provide some much-needed privacy.”
Analia stepped out of her cell and took note of the two guards against the far wall. Without another word, Eth
an headed back down the hallway.
Thankfully, she followed after him. He didn’t want to have to drag her with him as if she were a common prisoner.
Sebastian continued to yell, “If you harm her in any way, you will regret it!”
The other demon added in a controlled tone, “That's not a threat, mate. That's a fact.”
“Fascinating. Loyalty in demons is difficult to inspire.” Ethan gave Analia an admiring glance and walked on. “I apologize about the tranquilizer. I hadn't wanted you to sleep quite so long, and that particular dart was not meant for you, but…no harm done.”
“Thank you for your concern,” she replied with a surprising amount of venom. “Why don't you get to the point?”
“Just as impatient as your demons, aren't you?” Ethan stopped and opened the door to his chambers, gesturing for her to enter. When she hesitated, he said, “Come on, I will not harm you.”
“You'll understand if I don't believe you.”
He quirked a brow at her bravado. Her boldness reminded him of her eldest sister, Kyralyn. “Pirates honor.” He grinned.
After another moment of hesitation, the princess entered the room.
His chamber was magnificent. Red, orange, and green linen draped the entire room, floor to ceiling. The ground was not dirt and dust, but a spread of lush burgundy matting. Lanterns lined the walls and hung from the ceiling, giving off a warm glow.
In one corner, three large chairs surrounded a small table. His desk sat against the opposite wall, the book resting on top.
She came to a halt in the middle of the room. Just as he closed the chamber door, she whirled on him, her gaze fierce. She looked as though she were ready to beat him senseless.
“Brave little one.” He grinned and stepped forward.
Without warning, she lunged at him, and he almost didn’t dodge the attack in time.
He grabbed her wrist and twisted her around so that he was at her back with her hands locked behind her. Securing both her wrists in one of his hands, he raised his other to her face. She flinched, and he paused, not wanting to alarm her further.