Vengeance Born (The Light Blade #1)

by Kylie Griffin

  “Then who are you?” Although his eyelids were heavy and reluctant to obey, the temptation to see the woman with the captivating voice was too strong to resist.

  “My name is Annika.”

  In the flickering torchlight, long, thick, honey-colored hair fell to her waist, acting as a veil over her face and shoulders, shielding her from his gaze as she knelt to one side of him. A pale, flowing dress clothed her slender form but she was all woman: rounded breasts, a narrow waist, and curved hips. She was everything he’d imagined a Handmaiden of the Lady to be.

  A wry smile twisted his lips at the heat stirring in his gut. Deriving enjoyment from looking at her was strange considering his predicament, but it was better than the memories of the last few days. He’d take pleasure over pain any day.

  Delicate, graceful hands untied a pouch and removed several jars and pots. They gave no clue as to the identity of the woman but the clean, fresh scent of herbs and oils told him she was a healer.

  “You waste your time.” His voice was hoarse. Kalan tried to swallow but his mouth was dry. “I thank you for your concern but there’s little you can do for me that won’t be undone by ’morrow-eve. Save your salves and potions for another who would benefit from them more.”

  The woman raised her head, a gentle smile curving her lips. All pleasure fled as his gaze met hers.

  Lady’s Breath, she had demon eyes.

  Adrenaline burned through him. He sucked in a shocked breath. They weren’t quite the same shade of violet as the Na’Reish but lighter, flecked with pale yellow highlights.

  She wasn’t human.

  He jerked back from her, hissing at the pain that shot through his manacled wrists. “Keep your hands off me!”

  She flinched at the anger in his voice and turned away. A cold shiver worked its way along his spine. Perhaps the flickering torchlight affected his sight, or maybe there’d been one too many blows to his head. He scanned her face again. The swirling design on her skin, the pigment paler than any he’d seen on the Na’Reish, trailed down the side of her face and neck then disappeared beneath the neckline of her dress.

  The enemy in the guise of a healer? Shame pricked and burned beneath his skin at his body’s earlier response and the attraction he’d felt for her. How could he have felt anything but horror and disgust for a cold-blooded killer? Lady’s Breath, he’d need every shred of strength to resist whatever torture this demon was here to inflict.

  An old woman knelt on the other side of him. She was human. The small pale blue tattoo on her wrinkled cheek, a crescent moon in design, was the mark of a slave. Snow-white hair was pulled into a tight bun at the back of her neck. “You have nothing to fear from Annika. She’s a healer. Let her help you.”

  “I want no help from the Na’Reish!”

  Her brown eyes narrowed and flashed with anger. “She’s no more Na’Reish than you or I. Surely you can feel the Lady’s Gift burning within her?”

  “Hesia, it’s all right.” The younger woman’s rebuke was soft.

  “No, Annika, he’s judged you too quickly. Perhaps I was wrong in my assessment. A Light Blade would never do that. They’re more intelligent.”

  The old woman was insulting him? Kalan glanced between the two of them, tempted to laugh but the heat of anger curling tight inside his stomach stayed the impulse. Was he dreaming? Had he passed out during the last beating and now drifted in some sort of surreal world?

  “His intolerance is unacceptable.” The old woman leaned in close, her gaze burning. “Warrior, listen carefully. Do you want your freedom?”

  Of course he did. What warrior wouldn’t wish for escape from the torment inflicted by the Na’Reish? He resented the flash of hope her question sparked. Was this another of their tricks?

  “I don’t know either of you. Are you blood-slaves?”

  The old woman snorted. “You’re a fool!”

  The Na’Reish placed a gentle hand on the old woman’s arm. “He’s cautious, Hesia, as I would be if I were in his place. Roll up your sleeves and show him your wrists.”

  Her skin was unmarked, scarless. Neither was enthralled to a master or mistress. The younger woman’s eerie gaze linked with his. “We’re not blood-slaves.”

  “Why would you help me?”

  The demon woman glanced toward the guards and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I can get you out of here, but I’ll need your assistance.”

  “You need my help to escape?”

  “No, I’ve already planned our escape. It’s afterward…”

  Her words made no sense but the offer of freedom burned in his heart. Kalan glanced to the guards standing on the lip of the Pit, gut seething with renewed anger. Was this a new tactic to get him to talk? The Na’Reish commander couldn’t be the mastermind behind this plan. The hulking leather-clad bastard enjoyed inflicting pain too much. Fourteen days of torment and not once had he answered their questions.

  And a Na’Reish healer treating a human prisoner? No demon would condescend to aiding an enemy. Her story about wanting her freedom had to be false.

  But Lady’s Breath, if she could help him he’d be a fool not to take her up on her endeavor. Even overlooking the fact she wasn’t human, the odds of escaping the demon’s realm were slim. But could he trust her? A demon?

  “I don’t understand why you’d want this.”

  Frustration colored her voice. “What is there to understand? You want to escape. I want my freedom. We need each other.”

  He snorted. “Why should I trust you?”

  “You should.” The old woman’s whisper was fierce.

  How could a Na’Reish earn such loyalty from a human without forming a blood-bond? “I’m sworn to kill you.”

  The younger woman’s abrupt laugh was bitter. “My death would be a cause for celebration among the Na’Reish, Light Blade. Do you think they welcome one such as myself among their ranks?”

  The power of her Gift nudged his senses, warm and strong. The heavy, cloying evil he usually associated with the demons was noticeably absent.

  “How can that be?” He frowned, recalling something he’d heard earlier. “The guard called you Na’Chi. What’s that mean?”

  For the briefest moment, vulnerability flashed in her gaze, the colored flecks in her eyes changed to orange, and then she glanced away. Her reply was barely audible. “Half-blood.” He sucked in a shocked breath. “Now do you understand why I want to help you escape from here?”

  “Demons pride themselves on the purity of their bloodlines. How did you survive beyond birth?”

  “Does it really matter? All you need to decide is whether you can trust me enough to help you escape.”

  He peered at the markings on her face more closely. They weren’t as dark or as prominent as the Na’Reisha commanders, and the violet coloring of her eyes was lighter. Her stature didn’t seem as heavily boned, either. He couldn’t refute what he was seeing but a half-human, half-demon hybrid?

  Mother of Mercy, stories of their existence had been around for centuries, figments of the imagination used as campfire tales to scare children. Evidence to refute that belief knelt beside him. Considering the Na’Reish’s intolerance for bloodline contamination, how had this woman survived into adulthood?

  “What do you want in return?” he asked.

  For the barest heartbeat, excitement flickered across her face. “I can get you out of the fortress, make sure we aren’t recaptured within Na’Reish territory but after that I need your help. I have very little knowledge of your land or your people.”

  “You want to leave Na’Reish territory? And you want my protection?”

  “I know it’s a lot to ask…” Her voice shook as it trailed off and she glanced toward the old woman, biting her lip.

  She was scared. The revelation burned through him. Did she fear him or her own plan?

  Her head lifted and her shoulders straightened. The flecks in her eyes went from yellow to a dark green color. “I doubt I’d survive long
outside the valley. I have no way of hiding what I am.”

  “Annika…” There was a wealth of love and pain in the old woman’s voice.

  “They won’t know me like you do, Hesia. The warrior’s reaction proved that.”

  Her fingers pleated the material of her dress. When she realized he was watching her, she met his gaze, proud and unflinching, but her anxious action didn’t stop. Unusual. Vulnerability was considered a weakness among the Na’Reish.

  Was it another ploy?

  “Kalan,” he said.

  A startled expression flitted across her face. “What?”

  He’d go along with her plan, for the moment. If she could un-shackle him, he could fight. Even bare-handed, he stood a better chance at escape than he did now. Should he fail… well, he’d make certain he wasn’t recaptured alive.

  “My name is Kalan. If we’re going to escape together, then you need to know my name.”

  And by the Lady of Light, if she were deceiving him, he’d make sure she never drew breath again either.

  Chapter 2

  ANNIKA stared at the warrior, her mouth slackening in shock. Dear Lady, he’d agreed to her plan. So used to rejection, she’d been so sure he’d rebuff it outright after seeing the hatred in his eyes for what she was but hope had spurred her to try.

  Wariness replaced his anger, which he wore like a cloak. His long limbs were tense, as if bracing himself for a blow he knew would come, expecting her to tell him she’d merely been taunting him with freedom. That he was as uncertain as her about their tentative alliance was an oddly reassuring realization.

  “Which guard has the keys to your shackles?” she whispered. “We must leave tonight. I may not be given another chance to visit you again.”

  “The one on the right.”

  Dread’s cold fingers clawed her stomach. Tal wore the key on his belt. “Figures,” she muttered and turned back to him.

  In his present condition, the scabbed and weeping whip weals and raw burns on his body would slow him down. If she healed him and they began their escape, would he take advantage of his newfound strength and attack her? It was a risk but one she had to take.

  “You can’t run in your present condition.” She had little choice if they were to succeed. “Your wounds need healing. Will you let me help you?”

  His eyes narrowed. “How? Your salves and potions will take days to help me.”

  “As it stands, I doubt you’d be able to walk out of the Pit.” And she didn’t think he’d let her carry him. She took a deep breath. “You use your Gift as a tool to rid the world of demons, I use mine to heal.”

  He didn’t need to know she used her special skill as an act of secret rebellion against her father and the Na’Reish, to help others caught in a life as helpless as her own.

  “Who taught you this skill?”

  “We don’t have time for this conversation.”

  One dark eyebrow arched upward. “Make the time.”

  He was stubborn like a Na’Reish lord.

  Hesia’s hand touched her shoulder. “Tell him.”

  She sighed. “No one. I inherited it from my mother.”

  “Your mother? She’s human?”

  She nodded. “A Light Blade warrior. She died after birthing me.”

  “Why weren’t you killed, too?”

  She shared a look with Hesia. Her friend nodded encouragingly but answering that question would only delay them further. “Please, Kalan, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know later. Just let me heal you.”

  Suspicion tightened the lines on his face.

  She touched her fingertips to her breast then lips, sealing her promise. “By the Lady, I swear to answer your questions.”

  “You honor Her?”

  Her chin lifted at the skeptical tone in his voice. “How could I not after being blessed with Her Gift?”

  Hesia’s response was somber. “No other Na’Chi has ever been able to do what she has, Light Blade.”

  Long heartbeats passed before he finally nodded. “All right.”

  Annika smiled and moved in front of him, covering her actions from the guards with her body. She gently touched the center of his chest, avoiding the worst of the lash marks. Beneath her fingertips, his skin was warm. His fine linen shirt had been slashed repeatedly until the front was barely more than a collection of bloody, threadbare rags. His muscular chest and abdomen were covered in weal marks, some deep enough to have broken the skin. She hated to think of the agony he’d endured.

  Closing her eyes, she focused her thoughts and felt the soothing warmth of her Gift deep within her gaining strength. She concentrated on directing it down along her arm then into Kalan through the touch they shared. As she breathed in, his pain eased; as she exhaled, his body accepted the energy she was giving him and began the healing process.

  She stopped only when she knew all the whip marks had healed over. She withdrew slowly, leaving a lingering warmth in his muscles. Once unfettered, he needed to be able to move unhindered, free from stiffness or soreness.

  Opening her eyes, she found the warrior staring at her. His dark green-eyed scrutiny, so strong and compelling up close made her flinch. What did he see when he looked at her? Did he see her as an ally or enemy? Nothing was reflected on his face to betray his thoughts; they were well hidden. She pulled her hand away from his chest.

  “Thank you.”

  His quiet comment caught her by surprise. Very few had ever expressed their gratitude before. She nodded and rose to her feet. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

  Kalan stretched, testing his muscles, and found no pain. She’d healed him completely. He’d never heard of any healer with such a skill. None of Master Healer Candra’s apprentices in the hospice back at Sacred Lake exhibited a skill similar to this. Her Gift was truly unique.

  Uncertainty ate at his gut as he watched Annika walk to the stairs, her stride strong, determined. Was the compassion she’d just showed him genuine or just a calculated move to ensure his compliance? His mouth twisted.

  So far, the demon was doing exactly as she promised she would. As long as she continued to help him escape he’d trust her—at least until he was free of the dungeon. Perhaps then he’d see her true nature, her true plan.

  The old woman, Hesia, swiftly repacked the healing pouch and slung it over her shoulder.

  “What’s she doing?” he whispered.

  Her somber brown eyes met his gaze. “Getting the key to free you.”

  “But those demons are twice her size.”

  “You should already know size doesn’t matter.” Hesia glanced once toward Annika then back at him, resolve shining clearly in her eyes. “Annika has many strengths, and you’d do well to discover them when you escape from here. Keep an open mind when you talk to her. Listen. Growing up as Na’Chi hasn’t been easy. If you can see past the marks on her body and the color of her eyes, she will be your strongest, most loyal ally. Remember this because the days ahead will not be easy for either of you.”

  The wealth of emotion in the elderly woman’s voice made him frown. “You won’t be coming with us when we escape?”

  “No. The path you take goes where these old bones won’t.” She glanced toward the stairway. “Annika is about to kill for the first time using her Gift. She does it to free you. To free herself. I only hope whatever future you take her to is worth it.”

  Her words pricked his pride. “I’ll keep my end of this bargain, old woman, and I’m not so closed-minded as you seem to think I am. The Lady has a purpose for our meeting. What, I don’t know yet, but if it eases your mind, I promise not to harm her unless she attacks me.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “Then I know she will be safe with you.”

  Hesia placed a lot of faith in the young woman. He peered up to where Annika stood facing the two demon guards, her hand resting on the shorter one’s arm in entreaty. The man abruptly dropped to the ground. She swayed on her feet as a roar came from the second, taller guard; the Na’
Reisha commander who’d taken great pleasure in torturing him.

  “I’ll kill you!” the demon howled.

  She reached out a hand toward him and he backhanded her, hard. The sound of him striking her cheek echoed around the chamber. She stumbled to one knee under the force of the blow. The demon bent down to grasp her around the throat with his gloved hands. Hesia gasped. Annika’s fingers wrapped around the bare skin exposed at his wrists. Abruptly, the second demon collapsed.

  “It’s done.” The old woman’s whisper reached Kalan.

  Annika turned her back on them all and hunched over. Kalan heard the unmistakable sounds of retching. Whatever skill she possessed left him in no doubt that this healer could look after herself.

  Two full-grown Na’Reish warriors had died at the touch of her hand. Such power. What had he got himself into? This woman would be a formidable adversary. Was bargaining with her for his freedom a wise decision?

  “If she’s never killed before, then how’d she know she could do it now?” he asked.

  Hesia’s reply was tinged with sadness. “You know how to use a sword and what it’s capable of doing but it doesn’t mean you have to use it, does it? The Lady gave Annika great power. She chose to heal others rather than take life—until now.”

  He remembered the first time he’d taken a demon’s life and the loss of innocence that had been sacrificed with it. She would never feel the same again. Keys clattered to the floor and skidded to a stop in front of him. He peered upward. Annika stood on the lip of the Pit, staring down at them, her face pale, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

  “Free the Light Blade.” Her voice was hoarse. “I’ll finish with the guards.”

  The elderly woman scooped up the keys; for the first time in a sennight, Kalan felt the stirrings of excitement as she inserted one in the shackle at his wrist. He was free in moments. Rubbing his arms, he followed Hesia up the stairway, snatching a torch from its brazier along the way.

  At the top, he found both demons impaled with their own swords. Annika waited for them farther along the corridor. Her gaze was shadowed, haunted, the flecks in her eyes now a faint red. Her mouth was pulled taut.