Ties That Bind: The Bellum Sisters 3 (paranormal erotic romance)

by Grey, T. A.

  The second the last word fell from her tongue, the world spun around her like a record player spinning too fast. Everything blurred, she couldn't be sure but it felt like she wobbled on her feet, her mind going dizzy. The awful shit sitting in her stomach swished around and she pressed a hand to it to keep it steady. It lasted for seconds or maybe an hour. Either way it was entirely too long.

  The world stopped moving with a violent stop. Lily cried out at the jarring motion and fell to the ground, wincing as the blade in her hand slipped and bit into her palm. Panting, she sat trying to get her bearings. She was in a forest but not deep in it because she could hear a road or highway in the distance with cars traveling. Coming to a stand, she wobbled, her knees nearly giving out. With a grimace at her bleeding hand, she wiped the blood on her pants to get a better look at it.

  It wasn't so bad, more like a good paper cut, though this one spanned her entire palm. Voices came at her, shouts in accented English. Shit, the Atal Warriors! Lily searched the woods but couldn't hear anything else, not even a footstep on a twig. The rift sat to her right in a long black ashy line. She made a break for it, knowing the Atal Warriors were close by.

  Frantically, she pulled the other potion out of her bag. In her rush, the dagger dropped to the ground and she cursed. Another shout, this one much closer. She grasped the bottle and chugged the contents, no time to analyze the foul tasting liquid. Her hand felt around in the bag for the other note with the spell.

  “Fuck!” Where was it?

  Heart racing at frightening levels, every muscle in her body froze at the deadly words. “Stop or we will shoot.”

  Lily stopped searching. The pounding of adrenaline, blood, and her heart sounded too loud to her own ears. She turned slowly, her hands held out in front of her. Her gut sank to the floor. Not just two warriors, but three. Fuck my luck.

  The three spread out until they covered her from all angles. One held a black crossbow, notched with a sharp arrowhead pointing right between her eyes. She could practically feel the metal already digging into her skin.

  “You need to leave here, succubus.”

  “What?” she said confused. “How do you know I'm a succubus?” She eyed the dagger near her feet but knew there was no way she could somehow reach for it and take out all of these warriors like some kind of Hollywood ninja in a movie. She'd be lucky to bend down before that arrow pierced her skull. Besides, these men worked for her brother-in-law; she didn’t want to hurt them.

  “We were warned you might show up.”

  Her jaw dropped, then she choked on a laugh. “How? I didn't even know I was coming here until about ten minutes ago.”

  “Our Commander ordered us not to let you go into the rift. He's ordered all of the warriors across the world's rift to keep an eye on you in case you decided to show up. He's worried about your welfare”

  “Oh is he?” she said dryly. “And I suppose Telal Demuzi had nothing to do with this?”

  The warrior with the crossbow shrugged, but didn't lower his weapon. She sagged in defeat, dropping to her knees and burying her face in her hands.

  “This is so embarrassing.”

  “We need you to stand and come towards us, Ms. Bellum,” the guard behind her said.

  She sighed, shaking her head and opened her bag. The small white piece of paper winked at her from inside. She narrowed her eyes on it. You little bastard...

  She'd already drunk the potion; she had little time before its effects wore off. Acting fast, she pulled out the spell and read the words in a rushed whisper. Her entire body clenched, waiting for the arrow to pierce her skull, to end her life, but it never came.

  She had only a moment before the dizzying, rushing action began again. She looked up with wide eyes at the man holding the crossbow. He cursed then lowered the bow. Another guard charged for her, looking like he was ready to make a tackle, but then the forest spun and spun around her.

  She felt a horrible sinking feeling in her gut, like everything inside her rushed up to her brain then back down to her toes. She slammed her eyes shut and waited for it all to end. She fell to the ground, the feeling much softer beneath her than the woods had been, and her eyes lazily blinking open. She didn't want to open her eyes. Not because some blaring sun scorched her irises, but because she suddenly felt so tired. Like she hadn't slept in days.

  When she did open her eyes, she saw several dark shadows leaning on the ground at a sharp angle in front of her. She blinked then peered upwards.

  She'd never been in the rift, had never known a demon besides Telal, but she knew she was looking at one. And she knew he was some kind of warrior or guard. He had dark red skin that reminded her of a fictionalized demon albeit minus horns and a tail. His eyes were blue, surprisingly, she'd have guessed they'd be yellow or something equally heinous. He growled something at her, his words garbled and very deep.

  “What?” She cringed, her throat felt raw and her question came out hoarse. Probably from that nasty shit she'd drunk.

  His dark black eyebrows pulled together. Even his hair was dark, but long; it hung down to his shoulders in thin braids that reminded her of dreadlocks.

  “You trespass,” he said this time in English.

  She had only a chance to look up at him with wide eyes, before he grabbed her by the shirt collar and lifted her bodily to meet him face to face, her feet dangling from the floor. In the background, she vaguely noticed the sky had a pinkish glow to it; the trees were white, pink, and red with vibrant colors; and far in the distance, a magnificent castle stood like a beacon of gothic excellence.

  “I'm sorry.” It was stupid, but it was the only thing she could think to say.

  He flipped her around then shoved her face into the ground. Strands of tall green grass and weeds stabbed at her eyes and nose, threatening to go up it. Before panic could set in, her wrists were grabbed in a hard grip and pulled behind her. She started struggling for real now.

  “No!” he commanded. He tied some kind of thick rope around her wrists and she squeezed her eyes shut as true fear came over her.

  Unknown land, unknown men, unknown people all led to some horrifying thoughts. He yanked her back up by the wrists and the muscles in her shoulders, arms and back pulled viciously, the muscles close to tearing. She cried out at the burning pain shooting through her.

  “You come with me,” he said in that deep, accented voice so like Telal's.

  She didn't really have a choice as he started walking her backwards. His steps were long but hers weren't, and she frantically walked backwards, trying to keep her arms from twisting in the binds.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “To king for judgment, trespasser.”

  Her eyes widened. The king as in Telal's father? Her gut clenched and she kept fumbling backwards to keep up. Shit, she'd really made a bad mistake.

  CHAPTER 17

  Telal approached the king's dais in long strides. His brother's appearance made him frown. What the fuck had happened to him? Gone was the auburn hair, the violet eyes, and golden skin and in its place was black hatred, without a soul.

  The royal congregation stared openly as he climbed the stairs to the throne. His brother eyed him, cold and calculating. He looked across the dais and saw his mother sitting at a regal table with white linen draped across it. Her hand held a golden spoon poised in midair like she'd been about to sip from it when he entered. She'd changed too. She'd never been a maternal mother, his nurses had cared for him more than she did, but even now he could see her eyes were darker, more sinister. Others sat at the table too, wearing the clothes of wise men, Alrik's council. He didn't see his father though.

  He should kneel before the king, but he didn't. He stopped in front of Alrik's throne, his soul burning to ask so many questions that have long gone unanswered.

  “What's brought you here, brother Telal?”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  A dark eyebrow went up. “After all this time, you think you c
an come here and make demands of me.” His voice was quiet, hard.

  Telal chose his words carefully. “I would just like to talk. I'm not trying to make any demands.”

  Alrik scoffed, his lips pulling into a mean grin. He stood and Telal saw just how much he'd grown from the little boy he'd known. In his memory, even as he'd wondered what he'd grown up to look like, to be, he'd never have guessed this. They were about the same height, but aside from that there were no other similarities.

  Suddenly, Alrik's gaze cut to the other side of the dais. Two women came through a red curtain partition, one with skin like glittering milk, the other a vibrant shade of ebony. Fleeting recognition crossed him as he gazed at the lighter-skinned one. She, too, paused when she saw him, her lips parting in surprise.

  Alrik growled. “Come with me.” Telal nodded, following him back through the curtain and down to the study at the end of the hall that used to be his father's. It was the king's study, and only he or his special guests were allowed to enter.

  Alrik swept open the doors and they slammed shut behind them, the loud crack echoed in the massive room. It looked the same, he noted. A large wooden desk, the walls filled with books and ledgers, the plush handmade rugs on the floor, and family portraits on the wall.

  Alrik dropped into a tall-backed chair, his eyes cold as ice. “Tell me what you’re doing here.”

  Telal took a seat across from him. “I'm here to talk business.”

  Alrik laughed, the sound like insects crawling along his skin. “Business. I'm intrigued. What business could you possibly be talking about, brother?”

  Telal held his questions about his family at bay. “I've finally started the negotiations to have the rift opened again.”

  That seemed to take Alrik by surprise; both eyebrows flew up and his hands clenched the arm rests like he was trying to strangle them.

  “Why would you want that?”

  Telal stared at his brother for long moments. He'd never anticipated he wouldn't want the rift open. Not once in his life did the thought cross his mind.

  “I think the better question is why wouldn't you want that?”

  He came back with his own question. “You've come back to claim the throne. You know father died that night.”

  “I don't want the bloody throne, Alrik. I always knew you were better for it than me.” As he said the words he cringed inside. After seeing his brother, he wasn't so sure. Something sinister wafted around him.

  Alrik relaxed back into his chair, his eyes drifting off to stare idly at the wall. “My brother's come back to open the rift. Just how do you plan to do that?”

  “I have an agreement with the Commander of the Atal Warriors. I have the documents with me so you can see the proposal.” Leaning forward, he took the folded proposal out of his back pocket and tossed it on the table between them. Alrik made no move to pick it up.

  “Tobius en Kulev? I think I'm surprised you'd work with him, though I guess I shouldn't be since you've done it before.”

  The jab cut straight to the quick. Telal stood in a rush, ready to get all the shit out. “No, Tobius died a long time ago by some renegade demons. His son, Tyrian, is in charge now. I have a loose acquaintance with him.” He left out the part involving the Bellum sisters. “He'll agree to the proposal but there are some 'ifs'.”

  Alrik smirked. “Some 'ifs'...”

  “Listen, that night I didn't betray you—”

  His brother's booming laughter overshadowed anything he might have said. Alrik stood and walked to a long wooden table against a wall that held bottles of various liquors and glasses of various sizes. He poured himself a tall glass of frenzia, strong demonic liquor, and tossed back the harsh drink then poured another and did it again.

  “I had an arrangement with Tobius to have the nether two rifts closed off for protection. I was trying to help us from all the attacks.”

  Alrik nodded as if he understood. “That makes perfect sense, brother Telal. Go to our enemy the vampires and get help from them without consulting our father first. Perfect...sense.”

  Telal clenched his jaw. “I know I was wrong now and foolish, but I'm trying to make things right.”

  Alrik quickly turned around, his strange dark eyes swirling with an eerie energy. “Bad news for you, brother. I am king now and I don't want the rift opened.”

  Telal shook his head. “Why wouldn't you that? It makes no sense.” Telal quickly thought back to all of his plans, years of planning, and already so many unexpected things had happened to throw him off. This especially he'd never figured into the equation. Of course, he didn't know his brother would be tainted too. Tainted with what? A voice asked in the back of his mind.

  “Do you wish to challenge me for the throne?”

  “A fight to the death? You have to be kidding me. You are my brother.”

  Alrik's cool gaze turned positively icy. “As if that means anything to me.”

  And just like that Telal's heart broke in his chest. A cold numb feeling drifted lazily through his body, filling his limbs and muscles with lethargy. Everything he'd worked for, to get to this moment, was shattered. He had the distinct urge to port home, put a gun to his head and blow his fucking head off. The one person he'd ever loved, his blood, hated him. How couldn't he? logic demanded. Fuck off, he told it.

  “You have not become a good king.”

  He had nothing left to lose now, even if his brother killed him it wouldn't be any worse than what he felt now. Hell, that would be a relief to the raw burning agony in his chest.

  Real anger surged in his black eyes. “You're here for five minutes and think you know everything about my kingdom?”

  Telal took several hard steps towards him, his hands curling, ready to throw the fuck down. “Where are the prolitare? Why are all the stuffy royals drinking gaily in their finery in the castle? If anything, it looks worse now than when father was king.”

  Alrik roared and charged at Telal like a massive battering ram. His shoulder slammed into Telal's stomach, shoving all the air out of him. It felt like he'd tried to shove his innards out through his spine. Telal went stumbling back, his feet slipping on the rug, then he caught his bearings and dug his feet in deep, pushing back with a roar of his own.

  They both went down to the ground in a roll, elbows digging into the ground, knees cracking on the floor.

  Alrik pulled back his head then whipped it forward, cracking Telal's nose like a toothpick.

  “Fuck me!” shouted Telal and pulled back his fist letting it fly. He only got in one good shot before arms wrapped around him and pulled him off his brother. He fought the restraining arms and slid several feet closer to his brother who stared coldly at him from the floor. He wiped at the blood at the corner of his mouth and smeared it across his cheek.

  “Get off of me!” He started channeling his magic, breathing heavily, then let his power fly. The men holding him were shot backwards as if a wave crashed into them. They slammed into tables and walls, breaking everything in their path.

  Alrik cocked a brow. “Your powers have grown too, I see.”

  “Pull off the guards and fight me,” he growled.

  Alrik gave the order and the men slowly got to their feet and shuffled out of the study. “I have a better idea.” He jerked his head towards the door and left. Telal followed, apprehensive, his blood positively boiling in his veins with the need to lash out. Alrik led them back to the throne room. Again he saw the woman and, like a punch to the gut, recognition hit. It was Arianna...his fiancé. Surely she'd moved on a long time ago. The marriage had been prearranged by his father and mother with her parents.

  His mother rose when she saw him. She wore an exquisite gown of golden sequins and diamonds that trailed behind her as she slowly came towards him. She stopped before him, her pale hands clasping together gently at her waist.

  “My son Telal. It's been a long time.” She said it as if she hadn't seen him in a year, not a thousand.

  “Mother,” he a
cknowledged. Something was different about her. Her eyes, he realized. They were harder, darker. He hadn't thought that'd be possible.

  “Whatever are you doing back here?” she asked softly.

  Alrik came up to them. “Now's not the time for that.” She glared at Alrik as he whisked Telal to the center of the dais. He stood in front of his great throne and looked out over the throng of royalty. “My brother is back, ladies and gentleman, and wishes to open the rift to the Atal Warriors.”

  Gasps of shock echoed throughout the great hall. Alrik held out his hand and the voices quieted. “According to him he didn't betray us. What say you to that?”

  The response came immediately. Everyone stood, screaming and shouting, their fists coming down hard on the tables and rattling their golden plates. Telal watched the sea of red-faced royals with a dispassionate gaze. Alrik turned back to him with hatred blazing in his eyes.

  “And you didn't come alone.”

  Telal tensed, his mind searched to figure out what he meant, or if this was a trap. Had Kearnyn followed him after all...or did...no that was impossible?

  Satisfaction filled Alrik's demented gaze. “Bring her in!” he ordered.

  Telal's gut clenched. No way. She couldn't be here.

  * * *

  The bars to the door opened and Lily was shoved face first inside. She slipped on the hay-covered floor and fell. At the last second, she turned her head so only her cheek slammed into the ground. She groaned as hot, flaring pain throbbed in her jaw. Footsteps came up behind her and before she could try to scramble away, someone cut the ropes at her wrists. The steps retreated then the metal barred door crashed closed behind her.

  Lily slowly turned around to a sitting position, her hand rubbing weakly at her jaw which felt broken. She knew it probably wasn't, but damn if it didn't feel that way. She looked around to survey her cage. Next to her cage, which was only about the size of a bathroom, no more than six foot by six, were dozens of more cages filled with people just like her. Well, she thought, not just like her. Many were multicolored demons with strange or unique skin and hair colors, both men and women. Most only gave her a passing, pitying glance then went back to talking in demonic to their cell mates.