Vengeance Born (The Light Blade #1)

by Kylie Griffin

  Kalan read the pages indicated. His whole body went rigid with shock and it took another reading to take in everything contained in the writing. His mind clouded, his focus narrowed until everything but the words on the page claimed his attention. The flames of anger ignited deep inside and it took every shred of willpower not to react immediately. He sucked in a harsh breath and the hand resting on the table curled into a fist. Precious minutes passed as he strove to contain it. Not until then did he look up from the book.

  Kalan’s gaze took in the Council members, his lethal stare pinned each one where they sat. “On your oaths as Light Blade warriors, which of you have concealed the truth about the history of humans and demons?”

  Chapter 25

  THE sound of Rissa’s breathing seemed loud to Annika’s sharp hearing. Even without opening her eyes, she knew exactly how far away the child was and the precise position of where she leant against the door. She could also hear the beating of her heart. The rapid pace increased every time she groaned and the sound of it intensified her predatory need to claim what she needed to survive.

  Her whole body now shook with the need for blood, every cell throbbed, her limbs ached with the pain of withdrawal and her moods were becoming harder to control the longer she went without. The cutting pain of curling her fingers into the palms of her hands drove back the terrifying sensations for a while. But the time between her lucid moments and the agony were growing shorter.

  Annika lifted her head aware that the cheek she had pressed to the floor had gone numb with cold. She peered toward the door, able to see Rissa huddled there, her pale face turned blindly in her direction. She was trying not to show fear but total darkness wasn’t helping. The candle had sputtered and burnt out some time ago.

  “Listen to me, Rissa.” Her voice was hoarse, strained with concentration it took to form each thought. “In a little while you’re going to hear some… strange sounds…” Her throat tightened with shame. “You might even hear me moving over here. Just stay there. Don’t make a sound. Nod if you understand.”

  She did. Annika released a soft sigh and slowly sat up. Her limbs were stiff with cold but the movement awoke the pain in her shoulder. It cleared her mind a little. She leant back against the wall and fumbled one-handed with the belt around her waist.

  “I’m going to throw my belt toward you,” she said. The sound of it hitting the stone floor made the child flinch. It slid to a stop near her boot. “It’s near your right foot.”

  Rissa groped around for it, then her hand closed around the leather strip. She hugged it to her chest.

  “It has a good, metal buckle on it. If I…” Annika’s voice faltered. She swallowed dryly. “I want you to use it as a weapon. If I come near you, swing it as hard as you can and aim high for my face.” The soft whimper nearly broke Annika’s heart. “I’m sorry, Rissa. I know you’re frightened of me.”

  The girl shook her head hard. “I’m not scared of you…” Her reply cut off as if she remembered the instruction not to speak. She bit her lip and her chin lifted. “I just don’t want to hurt a friend.”

  Annika drew in a shuddering breath. Her words meant so much to her. The small human girl was braver than any child should ever have to be. Anger at what Davyn was forcing her to live through burned in her veins. Healer or not, she wanted to kill him for putting Rissa through this.

  “Nor do I want to hurt you.” She forced a reply past the tightness in her throat. “I’ll do everything I can to stop myself. Pray for us both—”

  A wave of intense hunger assailed her. Her innards twisted hard. Every muscle locked tight as she arched back against the wall. It drove every logical and rational thought from her mind. She gasped and tasted the scent of Rissa’s fear.

  Flinging out her arms, Annika dug her fingers into the cracks between the stones in the wall. Panting only flooded her senses with more of Rissa’s scent, accelerating her desire for blood but there was nothing she could do except ride out the pain and fight the urge to leap across the space dividing them.

  Annika squeezed her eyes shut, hoping the lack of sight would ease the need. It didn’t. She heard a feral growl and could barely believe she’d made it. She threw her head back hard.

  Pain exploded inside it as her skull cracked against unforgiving stone. The next wave of hunger seized the breath in her lungs and ripped another animalistic sound from her throat. It took all her strength to drive her head backward again. Light shattered behind her eyelids. She did it again. More pain. And again. A groan tore from her lips.

  The hunger receded to a tolerable level.

  She slumped against the wall, the ache in her head now as strong as the one in her shoulder. Her stomach heaved and she vomited on the ground beside her. The sudden weakness made her whole body shake.

  Annika forced herself back into a sitting position. Tears slid down her cheeks as she prayed to the Lady for the strength to save a friend.

  KALAN slowly rose from his seat, the legs of his chair scraping loudly on the stone floor of the chamber. The sickening feeling in his stomach grew as the silence in the room drew out. Candra and Benth wore confused frowns. Corvas was looking to Davyn while Yance’s tanned face was devoid of color. Davyn still wore that self-satisfied smirk and of all the Councilors, he looked the least perturbed by his demand.

  “Chosen, what’s Arek found?”

  Kymora’s soft voice calmed the fury racing through his veins. Drawing in a deep breath, Kalan glanced back down at the book. “Arek has brought me a record of our past history written by the then, Lady’s Chosen, Irat Zataan. He led the Blade Council four hundred years ago during the time we know as the Great War.

  “He says… ‘Will future generations understand the series of events that have transpired here today? I think not, but as my final Journey draws to an end I feel compelled to reveal the truth…’ He goes on to say he regrets his part in what happened and seeks forgiveness from the Lady for his actions… ‘I don’t know the origins of our racial pride but the decision made by the Blade Council to enslave our demon allies was passed today in chambers.

  ‘Perhaps we became too obsessed with our own self-importance or believed our greater numbers gave us the right to exploit them. Maybe we grew to fear them. Certainly our resentment of our dependency on them and our jealousy of their physical superiority played a part in this—’”

  Several curses interrupted his reading; one of the most vehement came from Candra. She wasn’t the only one with a look of horror on her face.

  “The entry goes on to tell how they raided the homes of the Na’Reish in their attempt to enslave them. Many fled and those captured preferred death to servitude.”

  His voice shook as he paraphrased Zataan’s entry.

  “He revealed that the Na’Reish once coexisted with us for centuries. We were two races who shared a dependency—they needed our blood to survive, we needed their bloodlines to nourish the Lady’s Gifts. The Gifts belonged to the offspring of those who joined and partnered with the Na’Reish.”

  “Only those who joined?” Candra asked. “That means all Light Blades have Na’Reish blood!” She wasn’t the only one with a look of shock on her face.

  Kalan nodded as a sense of irony curled in his gut. “We’ve bastardized their original use. The Gifts were never meant to be used against the Na’Reish. We began the war. Our history has been distorted and hidden from us for centuries.”

  “Mother of Mercy.” Kymora smothered her soft cry with her hand. The devastated expression on her face was certainly shared.

  “We’ve caused our own problems?” Benth’s voice came out as a weak croak. “Our dwindling numbers of Gifted people are our own doing?”

  “You shall reap what you sow.”

  Candra quoted the Lady’s words. The hard truth was a bitter one but Kalan nodded. “The arrogance and corruption of our own leaders led us down the path we find ourselves on today.”

  “Where was this book found?” Kymora asked.
<
br />   “Among the personal journals in a storage room of our library,” Arek said. “When you asked us to look for evidence of the Na’Chi among the histories I found nothing but dry facts. I thought to cross-check the personal journals of each Councilor and Chosen from the time of the Great War.”

  “What I’d like to know is just how far that corruption has spread.” Kalan stabbed a finger at the book and glared at each Councilor. “Who among us knew about this?”

  Yance was the most shaken. As the weight of the stares of everyone turned on him, he crumbled. “The information was kept from everyone for the good of all…”

  Kalan’s anger thickened. “Benth?”

  “No, Chosen, on my honor as a Light Blade I knew nothing about this history.”

  Kalan gave a curt nod and looked to Candra. The older woman met his gaze levelly. “I’ve never read this account, Chosen.”

  He gazed at Corvas. The silver-haired warrior looked to Davyn, found no support there. His jaw clenched then lifted. “I’ve read it. The decision was made not to reveal its contents for fear of widespread panic.”

  “I don’t see what you’re all so upset about,” came Davyn’s calm reply. “The Council responsible died four hundred years ago. Too much time and blood has been spilled for us to ever rectify what was done. What good would revealing the truth do?”

  Kymora’s staff clattered to the floor in her haste to stand. “What good comes of telling the truth? You sit here at the highest level of leadership and profess that truth-saying means nothing?” Her voice shook. “Today I’m ashamed to be human and I weep for the lives of our loved ones, past and present, who’ve died senselessly in this war. How can you call yourselves Councilors when you deliberately chose to continue the corruption that is destroying us?”

  Davyn slammed his fist onto the table. “Our paths have split with the Na’Reish. They hate us as much as we hate them. Telling them about this won’t stop them from raiding. Savyr would rather see us all dead than talk peace.”

  “The distortion of history is an unforgivable abuse of your leadership.” Kalan gritted his teeth against his disgust for the ex-warrior. “What chance have you given us to rectify the mistakes our forbearers made? You decided our futures for us by perpetuating generations of their fears and prejudices. We made the Na’Reish what they are today through our ancestors’ choices.”

  Davyn leapt to his feet, his face distorted by anger. “They’re animals! All of them!” His eyes flashed with a wild light. “Whether we like it or not to survive we must continue killing every demon, full-blooded or half-blooded.”

  Varian surged to his feet, his face tight with cold anger. “You deny your heritage and the facts.” His lip curled. “Now you live the lies you’ve told.”

  Kymora reached out to grasp his arm as others rose around the table. “Do you all realize that the Na’Chi may be the answer to our problem with the Na’Reish?”

  “I won’t tolerate an alliance with half-breeds!” The light in Davyn’s eyes grew wilder. “I’ll see them all dead first.”

  Kalan sucked in a sharp breath as his words triggered a memory. Will it take the death of an innocent to convince you, Chosen? He stared at Davyn as the hairs on his neck lifted. The warrior had come to the meeting unnaturally calm, composed, and until now, hadn’t lost that self-satisfied smirk.

  “Where’s Annika?” Kalan watched the anger fade from Davyn’s face until only the wild look in his eyes remained. Coldness raced through Kalan.

  “Rissa escorted her home to your apartment this evening,” Candra commented. “We parted ways at the garden.”

  He glanced at Arek. “Check my apartment.”

  Confusion clouded his Second’s gaze but he nodded. “Yes, Commander.” The warrior left the chamber at a jog.

  “Kalan, what’s wrong?” Kymora asked.

  Something dark and unpleasant flickered in Davyn’s eyes as the smirk reappeared. He began chuckling, softly at first, and gradually it became louder.

  “What’s got into you, Davyn?” Benth demanded, his brows pulled down low. Others eyed the man with disbelief. “This situation is no laughing matter.”

  “Oh, but it is, my friend.” His chuckling stopped and he stabbed a finger in Kalan’s direction. “Can’t you see what he’s doing? He’s already offered sanctuary to the half-bloods. He’ll demand an alliance between the Na’Chi and us next.” He shook his head. “Such a decision would be suicide.”

  Running footsteps sounded out in the corridor. Arek appeared in the doorway, out of breath. “Commander, the guards at the door said Parnolli was escorting them to this meeting at your request.”

  “I gave no such instruction.”

  But Kalan wouldn’t put it past Davyn to do it. A sickening sense of dread scraped along his scalp.

  “If Annika and Rissa were supposed to be brought here, then where are they?” Kymora asked, a frown on her forehead.

  “He knows.” Varian’s quiet comment drew their attention away from Arek. The young Na’Chi had his violet gaze locked on Davyn. “Annika’s scent is all over you.”

  As Davyn’s chuckling began again Kalan’s temper exploded. He leapt across the distance between them and wrapped his fists in the man’s tunic. With a strength born of anger he slammed the older warrior back first onto the table then leaned in against him.

  “Where is she?” he hissed.

  A malicious smile curved Davyn’s mouth. “By the time you find her, it’ll be too late. You’ll realize just what sort of animal you’ve given sanctuary to, Chosen.” Fanaticism crazed his gaze. “You’ll see she’s just like the Na’Reish.”

  Fear ripped through Kalan as his imagination went into overdrive. Was Davyn insane enough to kill Annika? Bitterness had twisted the older man’s mouth into a sneer; every breath he exhaled reeked with hatred. There was little doubt he’d defy the promise of sanctuary.

  Kalan’s chest tightened until he thought it might explode from the pressure of the hollow feeling building inside him. Mother of Light, he’d promised to protect Annika, to keep her safe. Had he failed her? Again?

  She couldn’t be dead. He needed her. He couldn’t imagine the future without her beside him.

  Face the truth in your heart and embrace it. His sister’s soft words echoed in his mind. Annika had tangled herself in his thoughts, wrapped herself around his soul, and slid right in next to his heart.

  Merciful Mother, Kymora had been right. Against every convention, against everything he believed possible, he’d fallen in love with Annika.

  His gaze slashed to Arek. Voice hoarse, he forced out an order. “Find Parnolli!”

  Chapter 26

  TIME narrowed to the smallest of measures. Annika counted every breath in and out of her lungs in an effort to combat the incessant heat burning inside her. Sweat gathered in the hollows of her body and soaked into her clothes. She barely felt the cold against the cheek she had pressed to the stone wall.

  Her tongue rasped over dry lips as the feverish sensation in her body increased. She moaned. It felt like her skin was peeling off her body. Hunger drove its claws into her stomach in response to the faintest sound of a boot scraping on stone.

  “Don’t move, Rissa.”

  Her plea came out as a distorted growl. The air in the room thickened with the bitter odor of fear. The scent tormented the beast inside her. Annika shuddered, her long drawn-out moan smothered as she pressed her forearm to her mouth and sank her teeth into her own flesh again. The pain was nothing compared to the hunger. The saltiness of her own blood filled her mouth but it tasted so weak compared to her memories of the sweet, heavy flavor of human blood.

  “Annika? Rissa?”

  She heard Rissa’s breath catch at the faint sound of a voice calling their names on the other side of the door.

  “In here!” The girl’s small fist pounded against the door.

  Her cry shattered Annika’s tenuous control. Limbs that once shook now felt the incredible rush of inhuman strength
and she turned her head to fix her gaze on her prey.

  “You’re mine!” Her wild, rasping cry jerked the child around until she pressed her back to the wall next to the door. Hunger overrode every rational thought and, with a snarl, Annika lurched to her feet and staggered toward her.

  The door burst open. Light spilled into the room, blinded her. The impact of a heavy body drove hers to the floor. A masculine scent, not quite human, filled her lungs. Rage at being denied her prey surged and Annika twisted and bucked in his hold.

  “She’s mine!” Her scream echoed in the enclosed space.

  “She’s strong,” grunted the unfamiliar voice.

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “It’s blood-rage.” Annika raked her fingers along bare flesh, heard her assailant’s breath hiss through his teeth. She heaved in his hold as she became aware of another masculine scent, one more familiar. “Help me hold her!”

  Another pair of hands grasped her shoulders. She barely felt the searing pain of her wound. A redhaze obscured her vision as she peered up at the people restraining her. The strong, steady beat of the human’s heart so close it was a torment. Every muscle in her body strained in the attempt to break free.

  “She needs to feed now!” The urgency in the male’s voice penetrated her crazed mind.

  “Arek! The kitchens. Get a fresh carcass!”

  “Her eyes are pure red,” said the second male. “The blood-fever has peaked. She needs blood now!”

  “Annika?” The familiar scent grew stronger. “Annika, look at me!”

  Snarling, she turned her head toward the sound of the voice. His scent finally registered.

  “Kalan?” Her voice was a hoarse croak. She shuddered. Her vision blurred, blackened at the edges. The struggle sapped the last of her energy and she was left trembling beneath her assailant. Her limbs became heavy, her eyelids closed, and she began to drift.

  “We’re losing her, Chosen.” The voice sounded like it was coming from far away.