With one final look, she turned and drank in the heartbreaking beauty of him, then carefully opened the door and slipped silently out into the glowing shadows of the hall.
Chapter Eight
Blood and Sacrifice
Where there is love there is life.
The Message of Mahatma Gandhi
Mohandas Gandhi
Tess didn’t know how much time had passed since she’d begun walking into the bowels of the earth, following the increasingly miserable tunnel as it led her farther and farther down at a gradual, yet steady incline. It could have been an hour or as many as five. The time simply seemed to roll together into one endless string of eternity, like a mouse caught within the never-ending spin of a wheel. She was just debating whether she should go through another softly sung rendition of “I Am the Walrus” or “Copacabana”, when she suddenly felt a strong grip on her shoulder that quickly spun her around, then angrily forced her up against the cold stone wall at her back. She sucked in a deep breath of sulfur-scented air, prepared to scream for her life, but another hand clamped over her mouth. Rapidly, she blinked against a rolling wave of sickening panic, and looked up to see Zarnak’s hard, dark eyes staring down at her in the flickering torchlight, the expression on his beautiful face etched into rough lines of absolute fury. He vibrated with it, and she knew she was in deep shit.
Craaaap.
She breathed deeply through her nose, reminding herself that she wasn’t afraid of this man, and he laughed coldly down at her. “Did you really think I would sleep when I was protecting you?” he gritted through his white, straight teeth, shaking his head, and she suddenly realized her own stupidity. A warrior such as he would never sleep when they could have been in danger, and she had been an idiot to assume she could so easily slip away—too consumed with where she was going and what needed to be done to realize what was happening in the here and now.
With a warning look from his glittering glare to remain silent, he removed his hand, planting it beside her head while the hard length of his body pressed her against the cold wall. Swallowing against the tightness in her throat, she stated huskily, “You were awake the entire time.”
“Of course I was,” he snarled, clearly livid.
“And you’ve been following me,” she added dully, knowing her face burned to have been so brainless. Damn it, she hated the feeling.
His lips twisted with a cruel smile, and she wondered just how angry he was with her. “Oh yes, you little fool. I knew the exact moment you awoke from your dream and thought to leave me behind. It’s taken me this long, following you, listening to that infuriating singing, to trust myself enough to stop you without wringing your bloody little neck.”
Well, now she had her answer. He wasn’t angry, he was enraged. But instead of this realization fueling her own anger, which she’d expected, Tess found herself filled with an uncomfortable guilt, the churning emotion sitting heavy and thick in her stomach. He looked…hurt, and she hated that she’d put that look there, but damn it, he hadn’t given her any choice!
“I won’t apologize,” she said hoarsely, and his sky-kissed eyes narrowed to a sliver of burning blue, the silver flecks all but crackling with his temper. “I know I should, but I won’t, because you gave me no choice. I refuse to let you fight this battle. You’ve been through enough without having to take on my troubles as well. I will not be another burden to you.” And I will not lose you.
“And is it not my right, as your lover, to fight in your place? Is it not my right as your man?” he seethed, his angry breaths pelting her face. “But no, you won’t accept me as a part of your life, will you, Tess? Because even though you’ve handed me that hot little body to fuck, you still keep your heart so far out of my grasp, I’ll never be able to reach it, will I? And you don’t want me to. No, gods forbid you actually share yourself with me. Gods forbid you trust me to handle this, as is my right,” he bellowed, his voice trembling with emotion, and she felt each and every one of his impassioned words rip into her soul, like tearing claws.
“I…I’m sorry, Zarnak,” she said thickly, hating that her chin quivered with each word that fell from her lips as she found herself apologizing after all. “I’m…I’m trying to do what is right. I’m not trying to hurt you.”
His eyes widened at her words, then narrowed again, his anger not so easily appeased. “And how did you think it would make me feel when you crept out like a thief to go and risk your life? A life that I’ve boldly admitted I love?”
She swallowed against the dryness in her throat, suddenly wondering if he was ever going to forgive her for this. “I was trying…”
“What, Tess?” he demanded, lifting her by her upper arms until they were staring eye to eye, their mouths all but touching. “What were you trying to do? Protect me? Make me feel like a fool? Break my fucking heart? Do you know what would happen to me if you died?” he growled, nearly shaking her as his hands trembled in his rage. “Do you think I would have any life left, Tess? Goddamn you,” he roared, “how dare you make those choices for me? I’m the man here and it’s my right to protect the woman I love!”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, suddenly wondering what was right. But there was no doubt that she’d hurt him, and that had never been her intention. “I don’t agree that you should carry the burden on your own, without my equal help, even if you are a warrior and accustomed to making the battles of your friends your own. But you deserve more…” she struggled to find the right word, but all she could come up with was, “more faith than I’ve been able to give you. It…it wasn’t fair to you and I admit that.”
His mouth twisted with an odd look of bitter emotion. “You’re more than my fucking friend, Tess.”
“I…realize that, Zarn,” she said carefully. “And all I can say is that I am truly sorry.”
He watched her with those dark, deep eyes, the silver striations glittering and bright in the soft glow of the nearest torch. His nostrils flared, and she could tell the precise moment when his anger rearranged itself inside his body…inside his mind, shifting into a slow, searing burn of sexual, animal hunger.
“How sorry are you, Tess?” he rasped silkily, huskily, and just like that, her body responded, going warm and damp and eager. Just a look, the rich, evocative sound of his voice, and that steady, ever-burning glow of desire that she carried inside her rushed to life, like a mighty fire swarming through her blood—urgent and swift and breathtaking.
That blistering, purely seductive, slumberous gaze stroked its way to her mouth, and for the first time in her life Tess understood the expression “bedroom eyes”. Lambent and intensely provocative, his meaningful stare made her feel both weak and strong all at once. He watched her lips part, watched her tongue flick the crest of the upper swell of her mouth in nervous excitement, and his gaze narrowed, his breathing coming just that little bit faster…heavier…hard.
And that easily, Tess knew, in vivid, blinding detail, exactly what he wanted from her.
He stared at her for a long, intense moment, and then his words washed over her like a physical caress, and she struggled not to moan, not to wrap her thighs around his narrow waist and rub the damp, pulsing ache between her legs against his hard, bold erection. “Now is hardly the time, but soon I’m going to collect. You owe me, little one. I want my cock in your hot little mouth again—pressing all the way back against your throat. Want to shoot my cum over your sweet tongue. Want to watch you swallow it.”
She didn’t argue, but she did smile.
He shook his head and slowly, in careful degrees, the corner of his mouth curved in a small, wondering grin. “What in all hells am I going to do with you, Tess Laurent?”
“Whatever it is, I’m sure I’m going to enjoy it,” she quipped, and then she laughed softly, recognizing the relief pouring through her soul that she was no longer alone, that he had come for her, to stand beside her in this dark time. She knew, of course, that he planned on standing before her, offering her t
he protection of his body, but she also had faith that he would soon come to understand the truth she had finally opened her eyes to.
They would stand together, as one, and in that union they would find the strength to survive.
Lifting her hands to his beautiful face, she cupped his hot cheeks and stroked her thumbs over the strong line of his cheekbones, fully aware that he was undoubtedly the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. Softly, she asked, “Do you have a last name, Zarnak?”
“No,” he rumbled. “Other than the claiming of the Silver clan.”
She smiled, running her thumbs over the dark silver of his brows, then lower, tracing the grooves that bracketed his perfect mouth. “You can always take mine,” she offered casually, while her heart beat to the rapid, fluttering rhythm of a bird’s wings. “It’s my father’s family name. Robert Laurent was a strong, honorable man, and he would have eagerly welcomed you into our family.”
She knew he understood when he pressed closer to her chest, against that fluttering beat of her heart, with a look so gentle, so tender, even hopeful, falling over his ruggedly beautiful face that her breath caught and her eyes stung. “I’d be honored to take you up on your offer, Tess. Mr. and Mrs. Laurent,” he said with a smile in his voice. “How conventional we’ll sound, little one.”
“Hardly,” she laughed. “We’ll be the talk of The Wood! Everyone will gossip about the plain-Jane mortal who bagged herself the hottest babe around. We’ll be a shocking scandal and no one will believe it ‘til they see it.”
He threw back his head and laughed, then lowered her to her feet and wrapped her tightly within the circle of his powerful arms, resting his chin on her head as his chest rumbled with his low laughter. “There’ll be no scandal, for you’ll have made an honest man of me. And Tess, my dear, one would have to be blind not to see that you are the most precious female ever to grace The Wood.”
“Ah…” she smiled, pulling back so that she could look up through the flirty line of her lowered lashes into his grinning face. “You do know that flattery will get you anywhere, don’t you?”
“Anywhere?” he murmured, arching one silvered brow, his dark eyes burning with erotic intent. And she could see, like a picture in her head, the exact thing that he wanted, that he planned on doing to her, and her cheeks burned even as her body tightened in anticipation.
“I can hardly wait,” she said breathlessly, and even her earlobes pulsed with heat.
“Neither can I.” The laughter had faded from his voice, leaving only the hard, straining edge of need in his words.
“Then let’s go, Zarnak.” Tess wet her lips and brushed the heavy fall of her hair back over her shoulders, then patted her thigh, grinning when she felt the cold weight of his dagger. “Let’s get Emily out of this place and make Montgomery a permanent fixture in hell.”
* * * * *
An hour later, it became vividly apparent to Tess that she would never have made it so far without the magnificent man at her side.
“You know,” she murmured teasingly, watching his muscles bulging powerfully as he hacked his way through a towering wall of thick, deadly giant hogweed with his sword, “maybe it’s not so bad that you’re here after all, Zarn.” She thought wryly of the dagger she had strapped to her thigh with a strip torn from the bottom of her skirt, and added, “You’re certainly proving useful. This would have taken me days to cut through.”
“A man likes to know he’s good for something,” he remarked dryly, clearing a path for them. While working, he had explained to her how the hogweed grew over the portal every morning in a high, poisonous wall and had to be hacked through every night by whoever dared to enter the Lower Realms. “Careful,” he cautioned as he moved forward through the hole he had managed to open, “this one is more poisonous than most, simply because of the ground it grows from.”
Tess cautiously avoided the deadly leaves of the plant, and followed Zarnak through the opening to find herself standing beneath a blood-red sky filled with a single, massive black moon and a dark blanket of ominous clouds that slithered overhead like something alive.
“What is that smell?” she gasped, nearly gagging at the overpowering odor of sulfur and something that far too closely resembled rotting flesh.
“Hell,” he said grimly, and moved to stand at her side, both of them staring out across the barren landscape that stretched before them, a wailing, dry wind buffeting their bodies, one moment chillingly cold, and in the next burning against their faces like a furnace.
“I should have known,” she drawled, wishing she could think of some witty conversational topic to take her mind from the battle ahead. She was terrified, and hated admitting it, simply because she’d spent far too much of her life afraid. But as she looked ahead, blinking against the stinging, ever-changing wind, Tess realized that this was a land born from hatred and fear and desolation—her own terror would be right at home here. Barren trees dotted the ragged horizon, pitifully stark and naked in their death, while overhead smoke-colored shapes resembling large, clawed birds crept eerily along on the whistling wind.
It was a hellish landscape—dark and dank and malodorous, tinged with red and orange—and somehow sickeningly moist, almost as if they were walking through a giant cavern that would lead into the inner workings of some beastly creature. With a grim look, Zarnak grasped her hand and led her toward a towering shape on the far horizon, the ground mushy beneath their feet, and the farther they traveled, the worse it became. The smell was noxious, chemical and foul, like an insidious vapor that clung to her skin with the clammy grasp of a cobweb, and she fought against the urge to turn and run back, away, as far and fast as she could.
But an image of Emily’s innocent, smiling face filled her mind, and she gritted her teeth and walked on beside the brave warrior who held her heart. She didn’t know how someone who had been here before, like Zarnak, could possess the courage to return, but he had. On and on they went in silence, with nothing but the howling wind for sound, until they finally reached the giant iron gates of the tall, terrifying structure that looked like something between the Coliseum and Dracula’s castle.
Tess didn’t need a doormat to tell her who lived there, and a new fissure of fear scurried through her system as she thought of actually entering the unsettling building. Damn, but did this woman have a disturbingly sick sense of style?
“Zarn,” she called over the snarl of the wind, “how are we going to sneak in there and steal Emily away?”
His head turned and he looked down at her, the question already in his eyes. “I thought you meant to kill your uncle?”
“Well yes,” she muttered, “but I had assumed he would be wherever I found Emily, and that I could fight him there. I didn’t plan on taking on a bloody fortress!”
“Tess,” he said gently against her ear, pulling her into his side, “there is only one way to get Emily. We must offer a proper challenge in her court.”
Several things entered her mind, the first being No way in hell! followed quickly by He must be out of his ever-loving mind!
“What do you mean?” she demanded, but she feared she already knew the answer.
He shifted to look into her eyes, his stare steady and intent. “We must present ourselves before the Blood Goddess and challenge her servant, Montgomery, for your sister’s life.”
“Absolutely not. She’ll kill you!” she cried. “She’ll kill both of us! Are you crazy?”
He shook his head, those dark eyes staring…penetrating, probably trying to figure out just how she had planned on succeeding without him when she was obviously ill equipped to handle the situation on her own.
“Tess, if we do not challenge, then we leave ourselves open to her cursing. Trust me, I know. It was killing one of that bitch’s bloody dragons without a proper challenge in her court that got me running on four legs instead of two.”
Her eyes went wide, mouth opening on a stunned sound of shock. “You killed her dragon without challenging him and
she cursed you? That is how you became the unicorn?”
“Yes. Her dragons attacked me and my men while we were rescuing a group of our captured warriors, here in the Lower Realms. I killed one in self-defense, burying my steel through his head, and when he died, the hilt of my sword stood out upon his brow like a horn. Dismissing as irrelevant the fact that he’d attacked me first, she took advantage of her self-serving rules and sent me to my own personal hell,” he explained flatly. “For some reason, the idea of sentencing me to such a prison, where I would sport my own horn, struck her as infinitely amusing.”
Tess squeezed his hand as it gripped hers, and wished they were someplace where she could offer him comfort. Somewhere…anywhere…but this dark, dismal place. “Zarnak, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be, beautiful.” He leaned down and brushed her mouth with his. “For you rescued me, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” she said, nodding, before adding miserably, “and because of me, you’re back in hell again.”
“Yes, but this time I’m giving her no out. I’ve learned my lesson, Tess, and she won’t be able to abuse her rules so easily this time.”
With those words, he lifted his powerful fist to bang upon the iron gate.
* * * * *
The last fifteen minutes had been a blur for Tess. As Zarnak’s fist struck the massive gate for the fifth time, the iron monstrosity had lifted and they had entered the lair of the Blood Goddess. A tall, dark, ferocious-looking guard demanded their business in a grating rasp, his voice undoubtedly mangled by a thick white scar that slashed across the swarthy skin of his throat, and the sheer maliciousness of his expression made Tess’ stomach twist with dread. Zarnak spoke with the guard, and after snickering loudly at their business, the man led them to a small room where they were to await their audience with the Goddess.
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