"You."
"I mean for feeding. I'm going to sneak one in here for you."
Stygean smiled. Farris."
"Hang on, and I'll send someone to fetch her."
He relaxed in the chair and it was not long before Randilyn returned with Farris. Stygean's fangs came down the minute that Farris entered. His throat itched with need and the back of his tongue crawled with longing.
Farris ruffled Stygean's hair. They were too rough with you, young master."
Stygean had not expected that reaction from Farris, and it caused an odd flutter in his stomach. Thank you."
"How would like me? Shall I undress?"
He shook his head. You don't need to undress. Just assume first position."
Farris knelt with her head tilted to expose her neck and her arms behind her back with her wrists crossed as if held by invisible cords. Stygean turned around in the chair and bent over Farris. He sank his fangs into her neck as gently as he could, and sucked the warm liquor of her veins into his mouth, swallowing gratefully. A moan of pleasure vibrated deep in his throat, matched by one from Farris. Her blood washed all the weariness and pain from his body. He felt Farris start to weaken, and was already pulling out of her when Randilyn tapped him on the shoulder to indicate that he had had enough. Stygean licked the wound closed and kissed Farris on the lips. Thank you."
Randilyn dismissed Farris, crossed her arms, and regarded Stygean. You're bedding Farris, aren't you?"
A lie rose to Stygean's lips and died unsaid. Yes."
"That's breaking the laws. Remember what they did to Corbienne."
Stygean squirmed, recalling how Corbienne had screamed while Amiri stabbed her. Are you going to tell on me?"
Randilyn exhaled heavily, searched his face, and considered. No. If you want sex and more blood that desperately, speak to Dawnreturning about it. I'm sure he will understand."
Stygean ducked his head, knitted his brow, and chewed his lower lip. I don't think he would."
"Please think about what you're doing. Think about talking to Dawnreturning."
"I will."
* * * *
With nearly fifty blood-slaves, Anksha could spread her feedings out over many and not take excessively from any. Yet she felt drawn to Liuthan and kept returning to him. She fed upon him only in brief tastes to reduce the level of the Presence Pain in a manner similar to what she had done with Isranon in the beginning. It felt odd.
Liuthan sat on his cot, folded forward across his arms as if in pain. He lifted his head with a sharp intake of breath and opened the neck of his tunic. Resignation clung to him like a cloak of despair. Have you come to feed?"
"Yes. Anksha strolled over to him, drawn by a familiar scent upon him. It only took a second to identify it. You smell like Isranon."
"He just left. He comes to me every seventh day to take the withering out. He's asked that no one be told, but you're his mate."
"It's already started? Anksha was astonished. I thought I tasted it in your blood, but I wasn't certain."
"Yes. You took me hard ... killed Chinisi in front of me ... I believe that... he paused and swallowed, predisposed me to this. I'm dying faster."
Anksha blinked. Liuthan had been one of the strongest of her blood-slaves. She had expected him to last months. She wondered what she was supposed to feel. Shame? Isranon kept trying to teach her compassion, but she failed to understand it. She did not feel anything. Take your tunic off. I want to see."
Liuthan obeyed. Anksha leaned close, examining the sores and patches of irritation beneath his arms, along his sides, and across his belly.
"You're not going to last long. A few weeks, maybe."
Liuthan swallowed again, making his Adam's apple bob. Uhh. I pray I last longer than that ... for my son's sake."
A growl rose from Anksha's diaphragm. Her fangs went to full extension. She licked them, imagining Stygean writhing and screaming as she set her Dominance-Link in all the fibers of his being. She would see to it that he died quickly and without mercy. I don't like him."
"He's just a boy..."
"First position!"
Liuthan slipped from his cot, clasped his hands behind his back, and knelt with his head turned to the proper angle to expose his neck.
Anksha pounced on him, sinking her fangs into his neck before he had time to prepare himself psychologically for the pain. She burned through his psyche and body like a bonfire as she fed from his damaged shaukra net as well as his blood. He whimpered and groaned. The demon-eater savaged him worse than she had in weeks.
The former captain of Ocealay weakened swiftly and started to collapse beneath her. She pulled out of him and closed the wound with a swipe of her tongue.
Liuthan lay back on his cot, pale and weary. Thank you for not killing him. My son is very precious to me."
Anksha knew his pride and how hard the words must have been. She could smell his gratitude and taste the truth through the link. She had set them very far down this time to prevent a repetition of what happened with Bodramet: take the leader firmly enough and the others would follow.
"Isranon does not want me to hurt him."
"Nor do I."
"Isranon does not want the boy to die."
"Nor do I. Nor do I. Desperation edged his voice. I got three children on the nibari, but they were not born sa'necari. Nor were they born within the bounds of marriage. Stygean is my only heir."
Anksha ran her hand across her belly, thinking of her own child nestled there. You are bad. Isranon loves both his children. He does not ask first if they are sa'necari."
Liuthan lowered his head and fell silent. When he looked at her again, tears were in his eyes. My boy ... I will do anything to protect him."
"Then make certain he behaves himself. Anksha rushed suddenly out. Liuthan was her only blood-slave since Isranon who had the capacity for making her uncomfortable.
* * * *
Isranon ran hard, darting through the bushes and trees with his bow at his shoulder and his skinning knives at his hips. Panic gripped him and his heart raced. Breathing was a lance of fire in his lungs and chest. He could hear the sa'necari coming closer, riding him down. There must have been twenty or more of them. Nevin had told him not to hunt this side of the river, to stay on the clan lands. Yet, the buck had been too beautiful not to bring down. Such tremendous antlers and so much meat! At fourteen, Isranon prided himself on his stalking and hunting skills. He had been straddling the stag when the sa'necari appeared out of nowhere; making leering remarks about riding and riting him. Isranon cut one of them and got loose, fleeing.
The woods ahead of him thinned and he could see the bridge that would take him back onto clan lands where his pursuers could not go without permissionwhich the clan chief, Claw Redhand, would never give them under the circumstances. He burst from cover into the path of four horsemyn he had not realized were there because of his concentration on those chasing him. Strong hands caught him by the collar and yanked him off his feet, dragging him across the saddle. Isranon twisted and thrashed. The horse sidestepped uneasily. A fist clipped his head in an admonitory thump.
"Be still, boy!"
Isranon looked up into a thin, almost effeminately sensual face with a tiny goatee of silken black hair. Let me go! Nevin and Claw will...."
"Are you lycan then? The mon frowned, touching his face lightly. I'm here to buy horses from Claw."
Isranon's hair stood on end as the mon continued to touch him and then he felt the shivering goose bumps along his arms that betrayed the touch of the mon's power. Isranon screamed. The mon was Reading him and in a moment, he would know what he was.
"Sa'necari, the mon hissed. And not blooded in the rites or your powers would be stronger."
Isranon squared his shoulders the best he could despite being draped head down. Kill me and be damned. I do not fear death."
The mon laughed. You were running away from it fast enough."
The boy's pursuers drew rein ar
ound them. One rode forward, bowing low in the saddle to Isranon's captor. I see that you caught him, highness."
The mon tilted his head with a thin, indolent sneer. Caught who?"
"The heretic. We planned to rite him when we caught him."
"There is no heretic here, only my young friend, the mon snarled and then whispered to Isranon, what is your name?"
"Isranon, the boy whispered back.
"There is only my young friend Isranon here and he is not a heretic. Furthermore, he is under my protection. The mon's voice took on a dark, venomous tone. Touch him and I will destroy the lot of you."
Isranon goggled at the way they all started fading back into the forest without contesting further. Who are you?"
"Mephistis Coleth de Waejonan."
Isranon woke from his dream, his mouth tasting of ashes. It had been seven years since Mephistis dragged him across that horse and saved him. Once a dream of his slain friend would have eased him; but the loss was bitterness on his palate. He realized, with a surge of unexpected self-awareness, that circumstances were forcing him to become the man he had once believed Mephistis to be.
* * * *
Stygean lay on his side on his bedroll, staring at the tent wall. Randilyn's attentions and Farris blood had relieved most of the discomfort in his back, but he still did not wish to test it by rolling over. The thought of working with blades again had cheered him up a bit. He had many good memories of working out in the salle with his father. However, Stygean feared Nevin almost as much as Anksha. He could not stop dwelling on how easily Nevin had knocked him unconscious the day they captured him. He didn't trust Nevin. The wolf could easily turn their practice bouts into an excuse to beat on him again. Depression set in and a bitter anger followed it. I hate all of you. He caught himself. But not Randi."
"What are you muttering about? Jingen strolled into the tent, looking smug and self-satisfied.
"Nothing. Stygean scowled. Where were you?"
Jingen shrugged. Visiting my mother."
"They let you visit her every day."
"Because they like me better than you. Everybody does. Even the filthy Renunciate."
Stygean tensed up and almost mentioned Randilyn, but held back because he didn't want Jingen playing up to her. I don't see you doing special chores for the Renunciate."
"I wouldn't put much store by it. He's just trying to seduce you. You're not going to let him are you?"
"Of course not. I hate him."
Jingen settled onto his bedroll. Good. You should play up to him. Let him think you're convinced. When he lowers his guard, you can slip the knife into him."
Stygean shivered. The dishonesty bothered him. I don't think I can."
"Give him the knife? Jingen tightened his fingers and made a stabbing motion. Don't be gutless."
"That's not what I mean. I mean the lying. I don't think I can."
Jingen shrugged. Have it your way. So long as you don't hesitate when it comes time to stick him."
Stygean pulled his blankets around his shoulders, feeling colder than ever. I'll stick him good. Count on it."
"I don't believe you. I think you'll wuss out on me. I don't think you have the guts."
"I'll prove it."
"How?"
"You'll see."
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CHAPTER NINE
I AM SA'NECARI
Stygean stood outside Nevin's tent, waiting as patiently as he could while feeling irritated at Nevin sending for him. Stygean guessed that it might have something to do with Isranon informing him that he would soon be training at arms with Nevina fact that engendered more than a little ambivalence in Stygean. On the one hand, Stygean had always enjoyed working out with swords in the salle at his former home; but on the other hand, he was more than a bit afraid of the big, scarred lycan.
Nevin emerged from his tent with a pair of wooden training swords in his hands. The swords had a metal rod inserted between two pieces of wood to mimic the weight of a real weapon. A second lycan came out behind Nevin and Stygean recognized Gordain, the one he often saw hanging with that kandoyarin youth, Dahnig. The chieftain tucked the swords under his arm to grasp Gordain's shoulder and plant a searching kiss on his lips. Stygean dropped his eyes. He had not realized that Nevin was a man-lover.
Nevin broke the kiss and slapped Gordain on the shoulder. I'll see you later."
Gordain gave Nevin a wink and sauntered off.
The big lycan walked Stygean to a cleared area where several other pairs of myn were working out together with blades and other weapons. Isranon tells me you're experienced with swordplay."
"My father taught me. I also had a private armsmaster."
Nevin handed him a practice blade. That's all to the good. I take it you know all the basic stances and forms?"
Stygean started to say yes and caught himself. A lycan might know a different set. I think so, unless you practice differently."
"That's a good answer. So warm up and show me what you've got, boy."
Stygean assumed a basic stance and went through his exercises with practiced ease. A smile spread across Nevin's ugly face and he nodded in approval. Is that all you know?"
The boy shook his head.
"Then show me everything you can think of. I want to find your level so we're not going over old ground, and then we'll spar."
Nevin's smile turned into a broad grin as Stygean performed. You're advanced for your age. That's good."
Once they began to spar, the lycan's years of experience showed and he sent Stygean into the dirt several times before calling a stop to it. He stuck out his hand to help Stygean up the last time and Stygean gripped it readily. Now, boy, you'll come to me every day as soon as camp is made."
"Right."
"And you're good, boy. I'll make a blademaster of you for certain."
"Thank you. Stygean walked off, feeling happy for the first time in weeks.
* * * *
Isranon continued to Read the children, trying to calculate when each of the older ones would transition. As Tamric, the High Captain of Ocealay, had feared when he turned the children over to Anksha: they were all born sa'necari, the altered genes were present. There was nothing to be done about it except try to change them as individuals, turn them to the proper paths including dealing with their appetites. Stygean and Jingen worried him most. Jingen did everything that Isranon required, mouthing the principles back to him as though he believed them; Isranon suspected that he did not. Stygean rebelled openly. He was not certain which of them was worse.
Isranon's thoughts kept drifting back to the boys even as he struggled to focus his attention on Nans.
"I doubt Galee will try hitting us until we get further north, close to Ildyrsetts. General Nans Gryphonheart fiddled with the end of her cinnamon braid.
"The imps and the demons?"
"I doubt the imps were her doing, Isranon. Although I must wonder where they got such a sophisticated toxin blend for their darts."
Isranon nodded. I insist upon personally being part of any scouting party that tries to enter abandoned or nearly abandoned towns."
"I won't argue with that one. I don't like risking you, but you saved our hides in Chyniolus and Linder's Meadow."
And lost a piece of my soul at Chyniolus . Isranon shuddered.
* * * *
Two wolves darted into the glade of denuded maple trees, squishing the piles of soggy leaves. The black wolf reared up, dancing around the smaller black and tan.
" Watch yourself, Gordain . The black one spoke in loud barks, which communicated to their lycan ears as if they were literal words.
Gordain darted away from him. Nevin. Nevin. Nevin."
The chieftain raced across the clearing, butting him hard enough to roll him over in a pile of leaves. I've got you."
" Says you . The younger wolf gained his feet in a flash, darted to the middle of the clearing and began to sashay around, flicking his tail at Nevin.
"Always."
Nevin had not felt so alive in years as he charged him. The younger wolf slipped in a pile of soggy leaves trying to avoid him again. The chieftain cried victory as he pounced upon Gordain, gripped him tightly with his forelegs, and entered him.
Gordain sighed in bliss. "I love you."
"And I you."
That night, Olin moved out of the tent he shared with Nevin and Gordain moved in.
* * * *
Haig had rescued Nainee from a cruel sa'necari master years ago. The vampire had caught the sa'necari cheating at poker, killed him, and claimed his six nibari. Three of them were sold and three were kept. Nainee had been hostess-trained and became his favorite. To protect her, Haig had placed sways and triggers in her brain to override the normal nibari reactions, making her more assertive and confident.
When he entered his tent, Haig found Nainee curled up in the middle of their bedroll, looking satisfied and smug.
A bemused smile crossed Haig's face. So how goes the plot?"
She folded her hands across her belly and grinned at him.
"Aha! I take it I no longer need to keep sending you to Isranon?"
"I think I caught the first night, but I kept going back until I was certain."
"And the others?"
"Six. Eevy's already starting to show. She must have caught before we left Ocealay, the little minx."
* * * *
Stygean rubbed his fingers beneath the slave collar. It was becoming a routine nervous gesture. Sometimes he noticed and stopped himself, but mostly he didn't. Nevin stood in front of him with a practice sword, waiting for him to raise his again. The chieftain worked him hard and Stygean was sweating.
"Ready? Nevin asked.
Stygean nodded and assumed guard position. Nevin came at him. The wolf was fully human in shape so his blows were less than they would have been in hybrid form, but still powerful. Stygean defended desperately, until stumbling backwards and went down on his butt.
Nevin shook his head and then gave Stygean a hand up. You're not balancing right and you're trying too hard."
They set to again in a furious dance of blades. Stygean managed to hold his own for several minutes, and then out of nowhere a bright colored ball ran between them. It startled Stygean. He faltered and recovered quickly, barely escaping Nevin's slashing blow. A second blow descended at him and just as he began his parry, he saw the toddler running heedlessly after her ball. She was going to run right between them. Stygean forgot his parry, throwing himself forward and tackling her. They rolled away from Nevin and he got a solid thwack across his back. The child began to howl in fright. Stygean sat up and patted her shoulders.
Janrae Frank Dark - [Dark Brothers of the Light 08] - Blood Hope Page 11