Devour, A Paranormal Romance (Warm Delicacy Series, Book 3)

by Megan Duncan

  I didn’t bother brushing my curly mess of hair, letting it fall in wavy ringlets across my shoulders as I pulled on a flowing peasant top. A quick glance in the mirror revealed the heavy bags under my eyes. I really did look as tired as I felt. A basin of cool water sat atop the dressing table, so I poured it into the porcelain bowl before splashing it unceremoniously on my face. It didn’t do much for the bags, but I was certainly more awake afterward.

  Grasping the door handle, I tucked the stone under my shirt and poked my head out into the hallway. The coast was clear. I wanted to avoid… well, everyone. I wasn’t in the mood to be hammered with questions about what happened just yet. Ronon had taken the brunt of it the night before, but I knew the crosshairs would be pointed at me tonight for sure.

  My sandaled feet clapped against the stone floor as I made my way down the curving hallway. As I passed each closed doorway I tried quieting my steps, even dragging my feet in the hopes no one would hear me, but as usual I failed miserably. Why was it when I tried my hardest to be quiet I couldn’t do it?

  A raven-haired girl with ridiculously blue eyes shuffled out of a room just in front of me. Her eyes shifted around nervously, obviously desperate to adjust to the darkness of the passageway. I stepped into the glow of the nearest oil lamp, so as to not scare her. I didn’t need to come across as a lurker among my many other faults.

  When our eyes met she offered me a nervous smile before scuttling toward me, leaving the door ajar. I watched, catching the delicious scent of fresh blood pouring off her. Hunger roared within me and I licked my lips, until I saw the tracks of scarlet reaching down her neck. She caught me staring and halted her advance through the passageway, pulling her shawl away from her shoulders. Despite my hunger, I backed away from her as if she were going to attack me, but that only brought a smile to her lips as she drew closer. She tilted her head back, offering the virgin side of her neck for me to devour.

  I wanted to bite her, and that very fact disgusted me. Maybe it was my hunger talking, or maybe it was that dark part of me that never seemed to disappear, but I refused to do it. I pushed her away from me, shaking my head no.

  “I don’t believe in feeding on humans like they’re animals,” I told her gently. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but this wasn’t right. Perhaps the people in this region just didn’t know any better. I could show them that they didn’t have to allow the vampires to feed on them to show their support for their king. There were other ways to do that, better ways. Clearly this region hadn’t evolved like the ones ruled by Nicolae and my father.

  “Oh yes,” she said, sneering at me. “I forgot that you foreign vamps have giant sticks up your asses.” The girl scoffed at me and, with a huff, marched down the hallway looking completely offended.

  I had to bite my tongue to keep from screaming at her. The very fact that she was offended I wouldn’t feed from her was utterly infuriating. I could have told her what I really thought of her, but that wouldn’t do any good. Arrick had told me about some of the… ,‘ladies of the night’, he’d called them trying to put the term mildly. It didn’t take long for me to catch on to what they really were, blood whores. At first I’d felt sorry for them that they had to use their bodies in such a way, but after meeting this girl I didn’t feel so bad anymore.

  “It’s not healthy.” A familiar, low voice sent a chill running up my spine. “Caging what you are inside. Especially you.”

  “What do you mean especially me?” I turned to face Ronon, who had exited the open room the blood whore had retreated from. He was licking his lips, obviously finishing the last morsels of his latest snack.

  “You’re just like me,” he answered simply, stepping further into the hallway.

  “No, Ronon, I’m not just like you. I’m not like you at all.”

  “Yes, you are. You’re just not allowing yourself. I can feel it.” He smirked at me, his eyes raking up and down my body like he could see through my clothes. He couldn’t see through my clothes, could he? I could certainly do things no other vampire could… so, maybe he could too.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him.

  “I can feel it right now.” His voice sunk lower, almost menacingly, as he drew closer and closer to me. As much as I wanted to run away, something kept my feet locked in place. Maybe it was curiosity, or sheer fear.

  I held my breath as his face came mere inches from mine. For a moment I thought he was going to kiss me, but he moved around like he was sniffing me; except he didn’t seem like he was breathing. His face circled mine and then trailed down my neck before he strode around me, running a finger through my hair.

  “Can’t you hear her?”

  “Hear who?” I asked through clenched teeth. I had thought Ronon and I had come to some sort of understanding before the attack, but clearly he was just as big of a jerk as ever.

  “You’ve got a warrior inside you, and she’s screaming to get out.”

  I hadn’t even sensed my body move until I felt my hand slap across his cheek hard enough to leave a red mark. “I’ve got a monster inside me!” I screamed at him, and before he could make some smartass remark back, I ran down the hallway as fast as my vampire speed could take me. I might have been hesitant to face Ana again, but after seeing Ronon I was almost welcoming it.

  As I expected, my father and Titan were at the entrance to the dungeon still continuing their argument on what should be done with Ana. The small bits of conversation I caught as I tip-toed further in made me pause. Titan wanted to feed her to a sand sylph and I kind of liked that idea, but my father’s plan was the right choice. He wanted to take her back to Naos for questioning. I knew plenty of vampires there that could make her talk, namely Eli. He knew specific locations in vampire anatomy that could make even the strongest vamp whimper.

  Sidestepping their ongoing debate, I padded my way down the stone steps that led to the holding area. The air grew stuffier the farther I descended, filled with a thick tang of dirt and blood. When the stairs ended, they opened up to a small guard area, made up of a large wooden table and a few decrepit looking chairs that surprised me by holding the muscular bulk of any of the guard. Mikel and two other guards pulled themselves to their full height at my arrival, nodding a silent greeting. Mikel kept his gaze locked onto me, conveying his concern and I gave him a weak smile that seemed to appease him.

  I strode past them to find Arrick at the very last cell, sitting on one of the decaying chairs and leaning his back up against the cold stone wall. Even from a distance I could see the dark circles that hung from his eyes as he stared at Ana. He was itching to launch himself inside her cage and tear her to pieces; I could feel it through our bond. His desire to kill her was warring with his wish to get information from her. I shouldn’t have smiled, but knowing he was struggling just as I was put me at ease. The corners of my lips began to reach skyward; at least I knew he wouldn’t think I was crazy for not wanting to simply sink my fangs into her and ask questions later… okay, not just sink my fangs into her.

  Arrick flinched when I stepped up beside him, clasping my fingers around the solid bars of Ana’s cell. She was lying in the same position she had been when I last saw her. On a stone pedestal under a wool blanket, she lay unmoving with her back to us. Her long golden mane still hung in a matted mass behind her, stained with the crimson hues of her own blood.

  I wanted to kill her. I wanted to feel pity for her, but most of all, I wanted to know why. ‘Why’ was the beginning to every question I had regarding Ana. Why had she wanted the throne so badly in Noire that she tried to kill me? Why had she joined forces with Baal? Why had she followed me here? Why? Why? Why?

  In my mind I was screaming that one word at the top of my lungs as tears filled my eyes. I stared at her frozen body, clenching the bars so hard my body began to tremble. I felt Arrick’s comforting touch begin to stroke my back, but it did nothing for the whirlwind of emotions inside me.

  “Ana,” I said her name in a deep t
imbre that was completely alien to my normally soft spoken tone. The closeness of the stone walls must have carried my voice because every noise suddenly went silent. Even the muffled quarreling of Titan and my father ceased its descent to the dungeon below them.

  I tried to ignore the unexpected silence and turned my eyes back to her. She stirred so slightly that I wasn’t sure I’d even seen it, but when Arrick jumped from his chair I knew it wasn’t a mirage. She had moved.

  “Look at me!” I commanded her, but she did not obey. “Ana!” A scream of frustration tore from my lungs. She came here to kill me, and now she couldn’t, wouldn’t even look at me! She couldn’t act like a mute, comatose prisoner forever.

  She would talk!

  Arrick’s arms wrapped around me trying to quell my anger. He might have been pissed too, but he knew how to control it, I didn’t. Was he trying to stop me from exploding in rage, or was he afraid I’d kill her before we got any answers? Maybe it was time I did explode.

  The idea to demand the cell keys popped into my mind and as soon as I turned to go back down the hallway, Ronon came into view. I’d expected to see his sexy, yet astonishingly irritating face again, but this time his gaze was different than any other. He nodded at me in a knowing sort of way, like he understood every emotion contending inside me.

  He drew closer, but it wasn’t seductive or predatory like our previous encounter. Ronon marched toward me with an air of power, like a warrior into a battle. Normally I avoided his severe countenance, but now I couldn’t look away until the moment I saw my own reflection in the deep pools of his eyes. I saw the very same expression he had held when he gripped Ana’s hair in his hand, and thirsted for the bouquet of freshly spilled blood as he drew his blade across her throat. I held those eyes, and they were staring back at me.

  The sound of Arrick’s voice was a faint whisper as a wave of emotion thrust into me. Ronon was latching onto me, letting me feel everything he’d ever felt. He opened up to me, allowing me to share the bond he had with the warrior inside him. The warrior he said I had within myself as well. His pride of that bond was powerful, but nowhere near as thankful as he was for it. Ronon was overwhelmed with an immense love for that bond. Confused, I felt myself searching for answers. Why was he so thankful for it? How could he be happy to have a monster inside of him, a constant voice that lingered in the shadows coaxing him to do every evil thing he ever thought?

  Ronon let me in further, as the tendrils of his emotion laced around me with a tighter embrace. I’d never felt anything like it… except with Arrick and I. It was as if we shared the same heart, and that’s when it hit me; a vision of Ronon as a child, whimpering in front of his mother’s tomb. I watched the vision play out in my mind like it was my own memory. I wanted to console the boy as he slumped forward, tracing the engraving of his mother’s name with his tear-stained finger.

  Suddenly the memories rocketed forward like a broken movie reel, playing the same scene out except the boy kept growing older and older until he looked to be the exact age Ronon had been when he was turned. This time he didn’t cry. He placed a handful of wild flowers at the foot of her tomb, and traced his fingers along the engraving as he always had, but when he looked up I could have sworn he was looking directly at me. I watched as something shifted in his eyes, like gears beginning to turn in an ancient machine, and the harsh visage of Ronon’s face was solidified.

  That was my answer. Ronon was right. I had to stop fighting my anger, and start embracing it. That didn’t mean I needed to turn into a monster, but it would give me the strength I needed to overcome the difficulties before me. Fighting it was only making me weaker. I needed to stop worrying about what I’d become if I let the rage win, and start worrying about what would happen if I didn’t. Through Ronon’s memories I could see there was a balance, and I needed to find that balance if I wanted to get answers from Ana. She was the product of anger. It had consumed her and mutated her into the shell I saw before me. A chill ran up my spine as I realized that could be me someday.

  At that thought, Ronon disconnected from me, winked and continued his walk down the corridor before stopping in front of Ana’s cell as if nothing had ever happened. I turned, retreating into Arrick’s arms and letting him hug me while the effects of Ronon’s connection fizzled away.

  “What just happened?” he whispered into my hair.

  “Nothing,” I lied.

  There wasn’t time to explain, and I knew he wouldn’t like to hear that Ronon had been able to share the bond that he and I did. I did a mental check for a moment just to make sure Ronon really was gone, and he was. There were no lingering threads and the only emotions I felt were my own and the concern and love Arrick had for me.

  I knew what I had to do and before I lost my nerve I detached myself from Arrick’s muscular chest and faced Ana. “Open it!” I ordered in a commanding voice that I knew carried an echo throughout the dungeon. “Now!”

  I caught Arrick’s nervous glance in my direction, so I offered him a tight lipped smile. A sense of ease cast over my body as I released the hold on my anger. To my surprise, it didn’t buck or burst forth. My anger simply stepped forward, like a teammate waiting to be chosen for a game. It quivered under the surface of my consciousness, waiting to be directed. Ronon had been right. Of course, I would never admit that to him, but he was right all the same.

  Relief flowed through Arrick when he sensed my calm, but if he knew the truth he wouldn’t be so happy. I’d have to tell him eventually… when this was all over, but for now I’d embrace my anger. I would walk with it hand-in-hand and work together.

  One of the guards who had been sitting with Mikel rushed down the corridor with a ring of clattering keys. He avoided my scrutiny as he turned the key in the lock and pushed the barred door open for me to enter. I took a deep breath before I moved with otherworldly speed to tower before Ana’s motionless form. There was no way she couldn’t have known I had entered her cell and her continued charade of acting like a coma patient was getting old.

  My wrath stepped forward in my mind, waving its hand as if to say 'pick me, pick me!' And for the first time in my life, I stepped down and gave it the reigns, trusting that it wouldn’t go too far.

  My fingers closed around her fragile throat, hefting her off her bed with little effort. Arrick’s voice called my name, but I lifted a hand to silence him. Her eyes drooped to my face as I held her before me, growling.

  “Where’s your master you pathetic dog?” My voice was dripping with hate. I’d wanted revenge for what she’d done to me, but there were bigger fish to fry. Ana was working with Baal, and she was going to tell me where he was hiding.

  She closed her eyes, as tears dripped down her dirty face.

  “Answer me!” I shook her, and her body dangled like a ragdoll. Other voices called out my name but they were only whispers in the distance. I didn’t want anything to stop me from my goal. My sights were set on Ana right now, but it was Baal that I really wanted. Ana was the only thing standing in my way.

  I shook her again, squeezing my fingers tighter around her throat. Her lips parted and a painful gasp escaped her. Blood still stained her fangs, bringing back visions of the night she’d almost killed me. My tongue slid across my lips when I realized how I could make her talk.

  My father flew into the cell, shouting for me to stop but I didn’t even glance in his direction. He wanted to take Ana to Naos, but I knew there wasn’t time for that. Who knew when Baal would attack next? We needed answers, now.

  Arrick tried again to connect with me, strengthing our bond in hopes of stopping me, but I couldn’t allow that. I closed my mind and my heart, barring him entry. I had to find a way to defeat Baal and Ana might hold the key. Maybe it was risky to allow my fury to have so much power over me, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

  The more they all tried to calm me down the angrier I became. Instead of focusing on ripping the secrets from Ana’s throat with my fangs, my temper sta
rted to zero in on those around me. The very fact that they were trying to stop me felt like a violation. If they weren’t willing to find Baal at all costs then they might as well be working for him! If they weren’t with me, then they were against me!

  A cry of pain shattered the building inferno of anger that was billowing out around me. The air grew hot enough to snuff out the oxygen in the room, and violent coughing broke out around me. Even Ana, still dangling from my iron grip, gagged violently. Happy to finally see a reaction come from her, I drop her like a rock.

  “You’re pathetic,” I spit the word at her. “You wanted to kill me so badly last night, and now look at you. Come on, give me your best shot,” I said, baiting her.

  And then Ana did the one thing I hadn’t expected her to do, she curled into a ball and wept. “I-I wasn’t trying to kill you.”

  “Then what were you trying to do?” Ronon interrupted, and I’d forgotten anyone else was actually around me. “You flew at us a like a rabid animal, with the putrid stink of death wafting off you.”

  She lifted her head then, looking up at me with tear filled eyes and reached for me. “I just want Luka back,” she said pitifully.

  “What?” I jumped away from her grasping fingers as she clawed at my legs.

  “What is she talking about?” Arrick stepped forward. There was anger in his eyes and when I realized it was directed at me my shoulders slumped. My temper was simmering down and the reality of the situation was becoming visible. I didn’t care so much about how I’d treated Ana, but how I’d treated Arrick. I had blocked him out, closed off our bond, and I should never have done so. I knew I’d hurt him, and the way he avoided my gaze made it painfully obvious.

  “We don’t have Luka, Ana. He’s dead. Why have you come here?” Arrick continued.