by Sam Cheever
“I’ve sent for the strongest healer in the court...”
Why did Astra sound so hesitant?
“The witch? Do you think that’s wise?”
Darma could almost hear her sister shrug. “She’s the best we have. But you’ll need to stay close. Watch her. I wouldn’t put it past her to try to get to me through Darma.”
“Great.”
Slayer’s voice was filled with the worry I’d seen in his face the last time I’d managed to rouse myself. I knew the healing wasn’t going well. I could feel my body rejecting it. But what worried me most was the constant static in my brain and the blood running from my nose and ears that made me wonder if whatever I’d experienced in Hades had damaged me permanently.
“I don’t like this, Astra. She’s so weak and her color is bad.”
“I know. We need to find out what happened to her in that castle.”
“You think being in Hell had something to do with this?”
“It had everything to do with it. I can feel it when I send my energy into her. There’s something there that wasn’t there before. Something...” Astra sighed.
“What?”
“Dark. Oily. Whatever it is it’s draining her.”
“Torre.” Slayer’s tone was deadly.
I twitched, shoving at the oblivion that had been calling me. With a supreme effort, I dragged my eyelids open and looked for Slayer and Astra. They stood close together across the room, their heads lowered and the lines of their bodies tense.
Astra shook her head. “He insists he did nothing to her.”
“He’s lying.”
She looked grim. “Dialle believes him.”
“You’ve gone soft, dragon fighter.”
The accusation was spoken quietly but its effect was no less formidable for it. Astra drew herself up and her jaw tightened. She leaned toward Slayer, poking a small finger into his chest. “Don’t make me kick your ass.”
“You know I’m right. Torre’s done something to her and he’s the only one who can fix it.” Slayer turned toward the door, jaw tense and fists bunched. “I’m going to beat it out of him.”
Without even seeming to move, Astra had her blade pressed against Slayer’s throat. “You need to stand down, Slayer.”
I gathered every bit of energy I had and shoved myself upright, leaning heavily against one arm. I couldn’t watch them tear each other up. “Stop it you two.” My voice was rusty, clogged with sleep, but they tensed, turning to me. “Bring Torre to me.”
Astra shook her head. “You’re lower than a snake demon in a Martian mire-pit. I can’t risk it.”
“Bring him, Astra.” I was happy to hear some of the normal strength in my tone, enough to make her frown. “I can handle Torre.”
My sister lowered her blade and walked over to the bed, her eyes flashing with rage. She stopped beside the bed and glared down at me. “This isn’t the Torre you’re used to Darma. He’s...” She hesitated, looking for the right word.
I found it for her. “Determined?”
“I was gonna say he’s found a set...but determined will do.”
My lips tipped upward. “He’s definitely different. I see that. My Torre...” I swallowed hard, sadness welling at the thought of my tender, loving ex. “He’s not in charge right now. There’s a new darkness in him that worries me.”
“The Hell environs will do that to you,” Slayer offered. He stood behind Astra, one hand on the hilt of his sword. “Do you remember anything he might have done to you there, Darma? Anything that might have engaged this...” he flipped his hand in my direction, “―thing that’s plaguing you?”
I shook my head. I’d gone over and over it in my mind. “Nothing. I really don’t think this is him.”
When Slayer’s gaze skittered away, I bristled. “I know you think I’m too smitten to see it, Slayer but trust me, I got over Torre a long time ago.” I let my gaze soften. “I’ve moved on.”
A ruckus sounded outside the door. A shout sounded, followed by an explosion that blew the doors open. We all turned as a tall, elegant royal devil strode into the room, his expression hard and deadly. He held Seraphim in his hands, her blade sparking under the light.
In a blink, Astra had power sizzling in her palm, the ball of magic almost as big as her head. “Stay back, devil!”
Slayer flashed away and turned up beside Torre, the tip of his sword embedded in the Prince’s throat.
Torre stopped, his gaze never leaving mine. “Are you all right?”
I frowned. “No. I’m not all right. You need to tell me what’s going on.”
His black gaze flared and swirled with the colors of rage. “I’ll tell you what I know. But only you. I want these two gone.”
“Not gonna happen,” Astra said.
Slayer’s response was to dig the tip of his sword more deeply into Torre’s throat. “You have a fireball’s chance in the rainforest dimension of that happening, devil.”
Torre didn’t respond to either of them. He held my gaze, his posture relaxed and his expression determined. By long habit, I reached for his mind and found the usual wall there. I felt the loss of our once strong connection like a knife to the heart.
But looking into his eyes I could see pain, maybe some regret and not a little need. It went beyond a desire for what we once had. It was a craving for understanding...the desire to make things right. I made a sudden decision I hoped I wouldn’t regret. “Leave us.”
“Darma...”
I skimmed my sister a look. “It’s what I want.”
Astra held my gaze for a long moment and then inclined her chin. “I’ll be right outside.”
Emotion tightened my throat. “Thank you.”
She strolled toward Torre, anger visible in every taut line in her small form. Astra halted next to him, leaning close with energy spitting from her outstretched fingertips. “One, wrong move, bud...one misstep...and I’m all over you like ugly on a demon.”
Torre’s sexy mouth curved upward. “I am certain my brother would be thrilled by that.”
Astra’s smile was much meaner than his. “Dialle and I are together on this, devil. You overstepped your bounds in Hell. That isn’t going to happen again.” She reached up and touched his ear, silver energy flaring from her fingertips. Torre grimaced briefly before schooling his expression. I was amazed he could so quickly slough off what I knew to be excruciatingly painful.
After Astra had gone, Slayer stayed rooted to the spot. Though he’d stepped away from Torre, he still clutched his sword so tightly his knuckles were white.
“Leave, Slayer.”
He turned a brittle gold gaze to me, the black flecks flaring. “Not a chance.”
Weariness swept me. I brushed a hand over my eyes and sighed, unhappy to discover my hand was shaking. “Please?”
His lips tightened and he threw Torre a hostile glare. But Torre didn’t take the bait, his attention was fixed solely on me. “Are you sure, Princess?”
“Yes.”
Still Slayer didn’t move. Finally, Torre looked at him. “I won’t harm her, halfling. You have my word.”
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t think that’s worth much.”
Torre lifted his hands out in front of him, wrists pressed together. “Bind me with an angel chain. I’ll not fight it. I only wish to speak with her.”
Slayer glanced my way.
I shook my head. “Don’t you dare. You need to go, Slayer. If you don’t I’m going to be in a really bad mood for a very long time.”
His eyes went round. “Princess Cranky Pants rides again?”
My lips twitched. “Yes.”
Shaking his head, Slayer gave me a half smile that made my stomach twist with awareness. “I’ll be just outside the door. Really close.” Throwing Torre a final glower, Slayer dropped his sword into its sheath and strolled slowly from the room.
Torre waited until the door closed behind my partner before he moved. In the blink of an eye, he was
sitting on the edge of the bed beside me. The rapid movement made my head pound. “Don’t do that! My head is killing me.”
Settling my sword on the bed alongside me, Torre reached out and touched my temple, his fingers gentle against my skin. Healing heat flared in the spot and drove inward. The effect was less than I would have hoped. Whatever was wrong with me, the infusion of healing only seemed to stir it up, sending it flaring outward, rather than driving it away as it should. “What has happened, Darma? Tell me.”
I shrugged. “I was hoping you could tell me. Did you do something to me?”
“No. And if I had it would have only been to draw you closer to me. I would never intentionally harm you.” His fingers captured my chin, a gentle presence that held me as effectively as a vise. I found I couldn’t look away from his swirling gaze.
“What about unintentionally?” I’d been around royals too long to miss the qualifier in his denial.
“You have my word that if I had anything to do with this I’ll do whatever’s necessary to fix it.” He grimaced. “I trust my word means more to you than it did to your watch dog.”
I wasn’t sure it did. But I thought I could still read his intentions in his eyes. And he seemed sincere. “What are you up to, Torre?”
He held my gaze a moment longer and then released it, his hand falling to his lap as he sighed. “I had hoped to keep you in Hell long enough to entice you to stay. That is all.”
“What was all that secretive communication between you and Caninra?”
He stared at his hands for a moment, suddenly fascinated by the square perfection of his nails. When he spoke again his tone was carefully casual. “I made a deal with her to bring you to me.”
“And you would give her mate back to her. I got that. But you said something about her doing what you asked. What was that about?”
He shrugged. “She’s agreed to bring her mongrels together under my roof and serve as my war dogs.”
“Why do you need war dogs? Your brother has sworn off wars.”
Torre laughed. “If you believe that you are more naïve than I thought you were. Dialle simply says what his lovely queen expects him to say.”
I felt my eyes go wide. “You’re saying he’s lying to Astra?”
Torre didn’t respond. He wore a faint smile that told me more than words that was exactly what he was saying. I decided I’d have to have a little talk with Dialle as soon as I could.
It wouldn’t be in the near future, unfortunately.
Weariness made my limbs heavy and urged my lids closed. I brushed a hand over my eyes and sighed.
Torre’s manner changed immediately, becoming concerned. “You are exhausted, my beauty. The malady under your skin wears on you. What can I do to help?”
“Tell me what you did to make me sick?”
“I don’t...” He shook his head. “If I did this then I assure you it was unintentional.”
Something in the way he said it set off alarm bells. “But you know what happened, don’t you?”
“Not for certain, no. I can only guess.”
I waited a beat for him to go on and then lost my temper. “Are you going to tell me?”
“When you disappeared from your rooms I tried to use our old connection to call you back.”
I nodded. “I heard you call my name once.”
His eyes widened. “You heard?” He grabbed my hand and pulled it to his lips. “Maybe all is not lost.”
I pulled my hand away. “Nope. All is lost. Mostly what your communicating did was create excruciating pain.” I frowned. “That’s it? You just tried to contact me?”
He hesitated just long enough to make me suspicious.
“What else?”
“I might have infused some marking magic into my call. I’d been told that it might help re-open the mark.”
I lay back with a disgusted sigh, closing my eyes. “Well, that’s unfortunate, but it doesn’t sound like it contributed to my problem.”
“That’s just it. I think it might have.”
My eyes snapped back open. “Explain.”
“I might have inadvertently corrupted the mating mark I gave you.”
“What does that mean exactly?”
“It means it could be poisoning you.” When I looked suitably alarmed he went on. “I had no way of knowing it would do that. If you’d been a royal it wouldn’t have been possible. But since you are a halfling, half of the light, the extra infusion of black energy may have been too much for your system.” He leaned over me, a hand pressing into the mattress on either side of my hips. “I’m so sorry, gorgeous. I would sell my soul to take it back.”
“A little late for that,” I joked grimly. I couldn’t look at his handsome face. The pain there was too deep...the attraction I’d thought had diminished was still too strong. I tugged the sheet higher and focused on smoothing it over my torso. “At least we know what’s wrong now.” I glanced up. “We can fix it.”
He looked away, guilt transforming his features.
Panic swirled in my chest. “We do know how to fix it, right?”
Torre stood and paced away, saying nothing.
“Dammit, Torre! You can’t tell me this frunkin’ mark I never wanted is going to kill me and there’s nothing anybody can do about it!”
He swung around. “I won’t let it kill you.”
“Then tell me how to fix it.”
He shook his head. “You will not like it.”
I was sure of that. I hadn’t liked anything that had happened to me since he’d flown back into my life. “Regardless, I need to know my options. Spill it.”
His hand fell to the hilt of his sword and his expression darkened. Clearly he thought I was going to take his next statement badly.
He couldn’t have been more right.
“I can replace the current mark with a new one. A better one. One that will hold this time.”
Holy Gargoyle toes. I hadn’t seen that one coming.
CHAPTER TEN
An Impossible Choice
Death of my body?
Or death of my heart?
The Supreme High Witch of the Angel City Coven was impossibly beautiful in a way that made me hate her on sight. I especially hated the way she licked her full lips and batted thick blonde eyelashes when she saw Torre.
Ignoring the witch’s obvious come-on...mostly...Torre took my hand and kissed the palm, letting his lips linger there. “I’ll leave you. I’m sure you have much to consider.”
He wasn’t kidding. I had to consider whether to let the poison eat me away to nothing or just leap into the fiery pits and be done with it.
The idea of letting Torre tamper with the mark again was terrifying. Though, on the other hand, he might finish me off faster if he tried. A definite bonus.
Whatever I decided, I had to take into account the agony I’d felt when the mark had failed the first time and he’d rejected me to soothe his damaged ego. There are some kinds of pain a woman should never subject herself to more than once if she has a choice.
The question was whether I had a choice.
Astis wrenched her gaze from Torre’s taut, round behind just long enough to grimace at me. “You look like the inside of a gargoyle.”
I grimaced. “Nice bedside manner.”
Astis’s laughter was everything I’d expected. It made me want to wrap my fingers around her throat and squeeze really hard. But then she’d probably think I was making a pass. She was a crazy witch who took pleasure from pain. If only I could give her my poisonous mark. She would orgasm herself to death.
The witch rubbed her hands together and placed one of them on my temple. The other rested lightly between my breasts.
As she leaned close, her sweetly scented breath playing gently over my face, I realized my jaw was clenched and my hands were fisted. I unclenched my fingers and tried to relax.
Despite her invasive posture, the witch seemed to barely know I was there. She had her eyes closed and
was “listening” to my condition with her magic energy.
The door slammed open again and I jumped. Slayer ate the distance between the door and the bed in several long, powerful strides. His sexy stubbled jaw tight, he reached for the witch’s arm, seemingly fighting to restrain himself as his fingers wrapped around her slender limb and squeezed.
She sighed, her lips curving into a smile. “Harder, halfling. Squeeze it like you mean it.”
He shook his head, looking at me. “Is she behaving herself?”
I wanted to say no so Slayer would drag her out of there. The woman gave me the serious creeps. “She’s fine.”
He dropped her arm like he’d been burned and her smile turned to a pout. Opening her eyes, Astis winked at him. “I’m available any time you feel the need to beat a woman into submission, hard and sexy.”
Slayer scanned a look over her body as if he were considering it.
I growled a little before I could stop myself.
The witch shoved a strand of golden-white hair behind one ear and straightened so he could look his fill. Her eyes glistened with pleasure and she pushed her shoulders back to highlight her small, firm breasts.
He finally curled his lip as if he found her distasteful. “I prefer my women less crazy.”
Her gaze hardened for just a beat and then she smiled. It wasn’t a kind smile. “You don’t know what you’re missing handsome.”
He flicked a hand toward me. “You’ve been directed to heal the princess...”
I opened my mouth but he narrowed his gaze at me so I slammed it shut. I hated that everybody called me that. It wasn’t my fault Astra got herself hitched to a king. Princesses were pink and dainty and worthless. I didn’t want to be a princess. I wanted to be a kick-ass heroine who saved the world.
Good god, I was an idiot. The only thing I ever saved was my own ass. And lately I wasn’t even good at that.
Astis shrugged, sending her waist-length blonde hair into silky ripples that danced against her impossibly slim waist. “I am done evaluating the Prin...”
“Just spit it out,” I muttered angrily. “Can you fix me?”