The Temple of Sacrifice

by Tameri Etherton

  Her breath caught. Whatever Marissa was doing, if she wished to keep it from her maids, Taryn needed to know.

  She crept to her sister’s bedroom and listened for several moments before discerning it was empty. As she was about to leave, a moan came from the balcony. The curtains whipped against the open doors and Taryn padded through the lavishly decorated room. Golden candelabra and chandeliers held candles that glowed softly, illuminating the huge bed covered in stark white damask and framed by crimson velvet panels. An image of marble and blood assaulted Taryn, and she looked away.

  Marissa’s ShantiMari glinted from every surface, its lavender hue laced with inscriptions. Each time she focused on a thread, the image would fade, but she was certain words were woven into the powerful wards. Her hands twitched with a desire to touch the threads and she balled them into fists, keeping them close to her body.

  Marissa moaned again, louder, more urgently. Taryn hid behind the curtain and peered through a gap, suppressing a gasp at the sight before her.

  Her sister hovered above the floor, her naked skin dusted with a smattering of black glitter. Rain slashed through the air, battering the palace walls relentlessly, but Marissa was oblivious of the raging storm. A cocoon of ShantiMari enveloped her, protecting her from the wind and cold. She writhed in the empty air, her arms clasping at nothing, her leg hitched at an awkward angle.

  Vomit roiled in Taryn’s gut. She’d vanquished the phantom. It couldn’t possibly be the same one. And yet, if it wasn’t, that meant there was more than one. She blinked back tears and swallowed the acrid bile that rose in her throat. She squinted, focusing on a faint, barely perceptible outline of black amid the swirling motes of rain and glitter. The phantom, Taryn was certain of it. From her sister’s movements and the sounds of desire she made, they were having sex.

  A compulsion she couldn’t deny forced her to watch. Violent in its scope, the coercion immobilized her, sending painful shocks of heat throughout her body. Taryn twisted as much as she was allowed to avoid the sight before her, but it wasn’t enough. Her sister’s head jerked from side to side. Her heavy breasts swayed against her quivering body. The sound of slapping echoed off the stone walls. Red welts marred Marissa’s buttocks in the shape of a man’s hand. Her sister cried out several times, not quite screams, but close, and then shuddered with a revolting display of satisfaction. Taryn gagged. Marissa knew how to use her body. A little too well.

  “Show me.” Marissa panted. “Now.”

  A terrible growl came from the invisible lover. Not human. Not animal. Otherworldly.

  Marissa nodded intently, her focus on a spot several inches before her. “Yes, yes, and then?” A wide smile broke out on her face. “I see.” She flourished her wrist and a thread of lavender ShantiMari swirled around her. It was edged in black.

  Then, to Taryn’s astonishment, Marissa’s feet disappeared, followed by her legs, her torso, and finally, her head. The same hazy silhouette was all that remained of her sister.

  A triumphant laugh came from the empty air. “My exquisite lover, you shall be rewarded.”

  The compulsion released Taryn with a slithering discharge that left her drained of energy, of thought, of emotion.

  Instead of fleeing, she stayed rooted in place and watched, fascinated, as the two contours merged and separated time and again. Taryn studied the coupling with scientific scrutiny, noting every movement, every inflection of shadow within the space. When finally Marissa screamed at yet another climax, Taryn had gleaned information on not only the elusive “disappearing,” but her sister and the invisible lover as well. Marissa released her cloaking shadows and tossed her long curls. A dusting of glitter shimmered a glow of deepest night before subsiding.

  Only after Marissa commanded the phantom to be gone and disappeared into her dressing chamber did Taryn dart for the door. Once in the hallway, she leaned against the wall until her heartbeat calmed and ragged breathing leveled. A few servants scurried past, keeping their gazes lowered, some making a figure eight above their heads.

  Unsure of what, exactly, she’d witnessed, Taryn started toward Faelara’s rooms. After several steps, she stopped. Too many questions begged for an answer and only Marissa could provide them. She spun around and knocked on her sister’s door.

  A disheveled maid answered and bade her wait in the small foyer. Marissa arrived a few moments later, dressed in a simple gown, the glow Taryn noticed earlier shimmering brighter. The black glitter was all but gone from her skin.

  When she saw Taryn, her eyes brightened with a dangerous glint. “Sister, please come in.” She motioned to the sofa where her maids had been passed out. “Sit. I’ll have Marina bring us some tea. Would you like anything else? You look a bit flushed. Perhaps some broth?”

  “No, thank you, I’m fine.”

  Marissa sent the maid away before sitting beside Taryn. “My dear, you are anything but fine.” She twisted a strand of Taryn’s silvery hair around her finger and pulled Taryn’s face closer to hers. “Did you enjoy watching?”

  Taryn’s breath stilled and her heart stopped for two heartbeats.

  “I know he enjoyed having you there. He wants you, and he always gets what he wants.”

  The compulsion returned, stronger than before. “Who is he?”

  Marissa’s cruel laugh cut the thick air. “I don’t know. Nor do I care. He gives me something no one else can.” She released Taryn’s hair and traced a finger down her tunic to her breast. “He is my god.” Marissa’s voice held a dreaminess Taryn didn’t recognize. “Right now he’s weak. When you vanquished him, it nearly destroyed him.”

  Her lovely lavender eyes met Taryn’s. “We could overpower him, you and I. Think about it, Taryn. The power we would wield. It’s greater than Zakael ever dreamed.”

  Desperate fanaticism edged Marissa’s words and features.

  A part of Taryn yearned for the phantom’s touch. Yearned to feel Black ShantiMari slip around her naked body, dusting her with its power. That part of herself terrified Taryn.

  Marissa’s face was an inch from her own, flushed still from her encounter, with that eerie glow emanating around her. “You want this, Taryn. I can sense your desire. I saw it in the way you watched with absolute longing.” Her eyes narrowed and she grinned like a feral cat come upon a barge rat. “He will have you, in the end. You are the vessel he craves. Sabina was nothing but a distraction.”

  Anger sparked in Taryn, but she kept her face blank, her breathing even. “He will never have me. I vanquished him once. I’ll do it again. Now that I know he is weakened, I’ll find him and destroy him for good.”

  “You poor, simple girl. He can’t be found. He is everywhere and nowhere. Even I don’t know how to summon him.” A look of panic flickered in her eyes for a brief moment, and then was gone. She’d given away too much.

  “Why are you telling me this? What do you want from me?” The compulsion made her thoughts sluggish and hard to form into words.

  Marissa’s pink tongue darted out and stroked Taryn’s lips. Her sister’s touch revolted Taryn, and she jerked away, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. Whatever had her in its grip forced her mouth open for more. The taste of sweet wine teased the bile rising in her throat. The sensual warmth of her sister’s kiss left her dizzy. When Marissa ended the kiss, the compulsion lifted, again coating her with a layer of filth and leaving her wary.

  “We are more alike than you’d care to admit, Taryn. Someday you’ll know this is true. As for what I want from you, isn’t it obvious?”

  Taryn shook her head and flexed her fingers, testing her flailing energy.

  “I want what everyone wants from you. Your power.”

  A blur of silver studded with sapphires plunged deep into her midsection, ripping skin and muscle. Taryn staggered to her feet, jerking the blade free. The pain drained what little strength she had left, but she kept moving forward, away from Marissa. Her sister sat on the sofa, laughing and calling taunts to her as she stumbled,
disoriented.

  Rhoane, help me.

  Blood seeped from the wound, over her hand, to drip onto the thick carpets.

  Hayden.

  Her boots thudded on the tile and she lunged for the door, her vision narrowing as she fumbled with the doorknob, her hands slick.

  Baehlon. Faelara.

  Finally, she managed to grasp it enough to yank open. Marissa’s laughter burrowed like a worm into her mind. Confusion muddled her thoughts. Why, Marissa? But no answer came to her.

  Brandt, I need you. Please.

  She stumbled into the empty hallway, blinking at her surroundings.

  Sabina. Please hurry.

  The light from the wall sconces hurt her eyes and she turned away from the glare. Her rooms were at the far end of the palace, away from Marissa. She focused on setting one foot in front of the other, making slow progress. Stars teased the outer edges of her sight.

  Kaida.

  The sound of footsteps approaching spurred Taryn to move faster. Marissa was coming to finish what she’d started. She had to get away from her sister.

  The last of her strength gave way and she collapsed, a discordant ringing in her ears the final thing she heard.

  Chapter Four

  Rhoane sprang from the comfortable chair and sprinted toward the outer room, ignoring the cries of his companions. He’d no more than reached the door to Faelara’s suite when Baehlon joined him, his face full of concern. A moment later, Hayden and Sabina were rushing through the palace as well. They raced down the hallway, dodging servants and courtiers, Rhoane swearing at both. Taryn’s call had been faint, but full of urgency.

  He took the stairs two at a time, vaulting over the banister at the top. From close behind he heard Baehlon grunt, but kept up his pace. Rounding the corner to Taryn’s apartments, Rhoane almost tripped over Kaida, who lay curled around an unmoving Taryn. Terror-fueled dread gripped his heart, but his mind cautioned patience.

  Rhoane knelt beside his betrothed and smoothed the hair from her face. His hands shook the slightest bit as he skimmed her body, searching for injuries. Nothing visible marred her skin, nor could he sense any internal harm. He placed two fingers along her neck, relief flooding him at the faint pulse of her heart. It skipped several beats but was constant enough. Strained breathing came between white lips.

  The others crowded around him.

  “Is she alive?” Sabina asked, between gasps of air.

  “She lives, yes. Baehlon, help me get her inside.”

  Sabina opened Taryn’s door and he and Baehlon gently lifted Taryn from the floor, making certain not to jostle her overmuch. Saeko rushed toward them, and then, seeing her mistress in his arms, hurried to Taryn’s bedchamber to pull down her blankets. Rhoane set Taryn on the soft sheets and bent to kiss her forehead. A chill passed from her skin to his lips and he shuddered.

  Taryn moaned, her hands grasping her abdomen. Kaida bounded onto the bed before Rhoane could stop her.

  Faelara arrived as Rhoane lifted Taryn’s tunic. “Taryn called for me.” She arched over Taryn to inspect her belly. “Was she injured? I see nothing.”

  Taryn’s eyelids fluttered open and she looked from one worried face to another. “Am I dead?”

  Ellie ran into the room, panting.

  “I’m sorry, my lady. Kaida ran off and I chased her, but she was too fast.” When she saw the gathered group, she stopped her apology. “Has something happened?”

  “That is what we are trying to discover.” Rhoane beckoned Ellie to wait with the others and turned to speak softly to Taryn. “Can you tell us what caused you to call out?”

  One hand absently stroked Kaida and the other patted her midsection. A look of confusion muddied the deep blue of her eyes. A moment later, panic cut across her face. Both hands poked and prodded her body, from her throat to her thighs.

  “I was stabbed. Dying. Did you heal me?”

  “Taryn, darling, you have no injuries.” Faelara sat on the bed with Taryn, stroking her hair and speaking in a soothing voice. “Can you tell us what happened?”

  Sabina stepped beside Rhoane and took Taryn’s hand in her own. “Perhaps she needs a moment to collect herself. You should wait in the sitting room.” When no one moved, Sabina looked at Hayden, Baehlon, and Rhoane directly. “That wasn’t a request.”

  “Go,” Taryn said, meeting his gaze. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

  Rhoane followed the others to the sitting room and paced around the sofa. Ellie sat with Saeko and worried a thread on her chemise while Lorilee busied herself with lighting candles and closing the drapes. When finally Faelara joined them, the men stood expectantly.

  “She’s confused. According to her, the phantom returned and stabbed her, but I found no sign of trauma or injury. It’s as if the event happened solely in her mind. Yet to her, it’s very real.”

  Rhoane’s back teeth ground together with the clenching of his jaw. He forcibly relaxed his mouth before speaking. “Do you believe the phantom was here?”

  Faelara shook her head. “I don’t know. Did you sense anything?”

  “Nay. But then, she was not long departed from your rooms and I was intent on the discussion with Baehlon and the others.” He took in Taryn’s maids. “Did you hear anything? We found her outside her door. Hayden, you are close to Taryn—was there any hint of danger?”

  “Nothing more than usual.” Hayden glanced at the maids. “You?”

  Lorilee stopped her fussing and stood behind Ellie and Saeko. The three shook their heads, muttering apologies they had not.

  Sabina joined them and motioned to Rhoane. “She asked for you.”

  Taryn was sitting on the balcony with one leg dangling over the side, her head resting against a pillar. He paused for a moment and studied her movements—her slender fingers burrowed in Kaida’s fur, the way her throat constricted with each swallow, the gentle rise and fall of her breasts with each breath. He braced himself and opened his mind to her thoughts and emotions.

  To his surprise, she was calm. He’d expected a tempest of confusion, but she held herself in check.

  She turned her head and smiled at him. “Hey.”

  Pewter storm clouds hovered over the ocean, silhouetting her against a dark illumination. A moment later, it was gone. Unsettled, he strode to the banister and swung his leg up and over to sit facing her. Panic lingered in her eyes.

  “Faelara says you were attacked by the phantom.”

  Her gaze drifted away from him, toward the open water. “She says it didn’t happen. That I made it up.”

  “No, she said she could not find a wound. There are many ways to assault someone, as you know. If he accessed your mind, that is just as damaging as a physical attack.” Rhoane leaned forward and took her face in his hands. “Look at me.”

  Taryn bit her cheek, her eyes narrowing slightly before she turned her face to him. “It was real, Rhoane. I saw the phantom and—” She stopped abruptly, once again looking away from him.

  “What, Taryn? What else?”

  “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

  His hands remained on her face, strengthening the connection between them. Her cynfar hummed in his mind, startling him. Whether she was letting him in or it was her pendant, he wasn’t sure, but he saw what Taryn had experienced. Saw Marissa with the phantom, saw her taunting Taryn, saw the blade impale his love’s sternum. Saw her collapse in the hallway. Saw the blood.

  The vision ended and Rhoane pulled Taryn into his arms. “I should have been with you. I am sorry, Taryn.”

  Muffled sobs disturbed the already unsettled air. He stroked her hair, twining her braid through his fingers, desperately wanting to release the silken strands. His lips rested on her forehead, tasting the saltiness of recently fevered skin.

  “Am I going mad, Rhoane?” She pulled back to look up at him, tears streaking her cheeks. “What if I didn’t really see the phantom? What if somehow he can make me think I’ve done something? Or, what if he can make me do
things?”

  “No one can make you do something against your will. You are stronger than that, Taryn. You are stronger than you realize. Whether you saw the phantom and Marissa does not matter. If you believe it was real, then we must treat it as such.”

  A chill passed between them and she moved as far from him as the pillar would allow. “I never said anything about Marissa.”

  Confused, Rhoane shook his head to recall the vision. Marissa had been there. Most definitely. “I am mistaken then?”

  She wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  “Taryn, tell me everything that happened. Please, I am only trying to help.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s like you said, whether it happened or not, we have to believe the phantom can get into my head. We have to stop him.” Her challenging look dared him to defy her.

  “If you are feeling strong enough, Faelara and I can begin now.”

  They returned to the others, whose worried faces brightened when they saw Taryn unharmed. Pale still, Taryn held herself with sturdy confidence. She hadn’t shown him the vision, and adamantly avoided naming Marissa’s involvement. For the time being, he had to assume she had a good reason to keep it from him. A nagging voice in the back of his mind told him it was his own fault. He hadn’t believed her before when she tried to warn him about her sister. Why would he believe her now? But he shuttled the thought to the deep recesses where denial lurked with complacent consistency. They’d worked past that after the incident at the Stones.

  At least, he thought they had.

  With the others seated around them in a protective circle, he and Faelara gripped Taryn’s head in their hands. The other woman’s ShantiMari flowed over him and he sensed her nurturing spirit. Her love of Taryn was greater than any mother’s. Their eyes met above Taryn’s head and the concern in Fae’s eyes echoed his own.