Rage to Adore

by Cara Lake

  Her eyes fluttered open. Xaphan watched as Morana slowly came to her senses and became aware she was no longer in the dark, dank cell. Morana’s wrists were still tied and she tugged angrily at the restraints, her eyes finding his, a look of wry bemusement on her face.

  “Xaphan?” she croaked, her throat dry. “Where…” Her face froze and the question remained unasked. Morana was staring at his son with an expression of predatory need. It was unsurprising. His son was an exceptionally handsome boy. Xaphan looked from Morana back to his son, a spark of fear in his chest. Before he could speak, Zahir had moved toward her, answering her unspoken question. “Lady Morana, you are safe here. This is my father Xaphan’s house. Are you thirsty? Do you require sustenance? We have bloodslaves who will serve you.”

  Morana’s eyes never wavered from Zahir. Her tongue flicked across her lips and she nodded. “That would be most welcome.” Her husky voice, dry from lack of blood, cracked and Xaphan was surprised that Morana’s expression showed signs of nervousness in the presence of his son. Before he could delve deeper to gauge her interest in Zahir, a servant entered the room and announced the arrival of guests who could not be turned away.

  Reluctantly, Xaphan left Zahir to see to Morana’s needs and strode down the stairs to greet the unwelcome arrivals. He had dealt with the Eunomi many times but preferred to keep his association with them quiet. Too many of his sanguini kin were intimately tied to the Discordant cause, which made the Eunomi’s visible presence in his house extremely dangerous for himself and his family.

  Cassiopeia Shedir watched with interest as Xaphan Al-Harqa descended the grand staircase, approaching with what could only be described as extreme trepidation. Immediately on high alert, Cassi let her mind probe freely, hoping that she would pick up on the reason for the unusual vibes that had assaulted her the moment she stepped over Xaphan’s threshold. She had never felt anything like it. As an experienced Eunomi warrior, protector of Esseni and possessor of wiccani magick, Cassi was intimately attuned to gauging the emotions of others. But the vibrations buzzing chaotically around her were not just emanating from Xaphan.

  “What can I do for you, Antares?” Xaphan greeted the warrior at her side. “Can I offer you some refreshment?” He clicked his fingers and began ushering them into the small salon on the left. Antares stood his ground as did Cassi, reluctant to lose the threads that were tangling in the air as her mind pushed again in an effort to unravel them.

  “No time for that, Xaphan,” said Antares. “We need your help.” Xaphan’s eyes flashed with annoyance and Cassi felt his heart rate speed up. She could tell he was frustrated by their appearance but that didn’t explain his fear.

  “I have helped you many times,” he said in a low voice, his eyes darting to nearby servants and he gestured for them to leave. When they were alone he continued. “I prefer that our dealings are private, you know that.”

  “I do,” said Antares, “but we have no time. I was told your son has in the past helped the EES and has the power of revelation.” Xaphan’s expression was wary as he nodded that this was correct.

  “We need him to read a location in order to find a lost comrade of ours,” Antares explained. “We believe he is being held in this city.” Before he could explain more a voice broke into their conversation. “I have that power. What can I do to help?”

  Cassi looked up to see a young man walking down the stairs, his face wearing an expression of concern. She raised her eyebrows at his appearance. The young man was beautiful. Perhaps the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

  Long dark hair fell loose to his shoulders in glossy waves that any girl would die to stroke. His eyes were an unusual shade of green and so clear and bright that looking into them was almost like staring at sparkling emerald stones intriguingly set in almond-shaped eyes enclosed by long dark lashes that any girl would kill for. An aristocratic nose and full lips that could have seemed feminine if not for the masculine cut of his jaw completed the gorgeous picture he made and Cassi couldn’t help but appreciate the portrait. The warm honey tone of his skin glowed with health and vitality. He was tall and lean and moved with fluid grace rather like a cat on the prowl. But that wasn’t why she was mesmerized. It was more that he was familiar in a way she couldn’t quite explain. She had never met him before—she was sure of that. So why did she feel as if she knew him?

  Turning back to Xaphan, who was scowling at his son’s appearance, Cassi focused on the task in hand. Pretty boys weren’t her thing and no matter how beautiful he was, it was his skill they needed—not his looks. “It won’t take long. We just need a reading from Morana D’Ath’s house. It’s close by and your son will be back in no time.”

  Xaphan jerked at her words and looked flustered.

  “The Lady Morana? She’s—” his son began to speak. “Zahir!” Xaphan bellowed, suddenly angry and shocking his son into silence.

  “She is here.” A female voice floated down from the upstairs landing. “I wish to thank you, Zahir, for loosening my restraints.” Four pairs of eyes looked up in surprise. Morana D’Ath floated down the staircase. At least it seemed to Cassi that she did. She was as exotic and elegant as Cassi remembered from their previous encounter. “Cassiopeia Shedir,” Morana was saying, “how interesting to see you again.” Cassi had no time for games. Their last encounter involved a discussion about Ziad. This woman had to know his whereabouts. Her anxiety took over and she shoved past Xaphan to meet Morana on the bottom stair. She grabbed her by the shoulders, pushing her back against the wall until they were eye to eye. “Where is he?” Cassi shouted. Two hands pulled her back.

  “Leave her alone!” Zahir demanded as Cassi struggled to escape his grip. Suddenly everyone was surrounding Morana. Xaphan trying to tear Zahir away and Antares invading her space, as eager as Cassi to find his friend.

  Morana seemed unfazed by the commotion. She stood still, one step above them staring down, a delicate eyebrow shooting up in amusement. Tilting her head to one side, she didn’t pretend to misunderstand Cassi’s question. “He’s safe,” she said with a half-smile that Cassi swore held almost a hint of bitterness. “And somewhere no one can find him.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  War

  Jaro, with Tyr and the squadron of thirty Eunomi warriors, arrived at the city gates just as Belial’s hordes began pouring through a small breach they had made in the city wall. The beleaguered shedu defenders were valiantly trying to hold them off while keeping the gates closed to another onslaught. A sudden pounding reverberated around the open square that led to the gates and a large crack appeared down its middle. The assailants were using a battering ram. A second hit split the gate in two. Now the enemy could advance from two sides.

  The shedu had no option but to fall back and use their shields to form a barrier. Jaro heard Bellor barking orders, directing his men to where they were most needed. His strategy was good and Belial’s advance stuttered in its tracks. The defenders were still hard pressed and Jaro noted a number of his fellow slave-gladiators among them, desperately working with the nobles who owned them to save the city. The irony wasn’t lost on him. These nobles needed these fighters like never before. And for the gladiators it was a chance to perhaps win their freedom, either by the release of a glorious death or through deeds of valor.

  Jaro fought his way through the melee to the frontline and joined his brethren. Grunts of acknowledgement greeted his presence as Jaro turned to face the enemy. It wasn’t long before his sword was bathed in blood.

  In the melee, Jaro spotted Bellor spearheading a counterattack by a small group of defenders to close the breach in the wall. It was a risky move but one that would be effective if they could pull it off. Once the breach was plugged, the full force of the defense could focus on the main gate. In his peripheral vision, Jaro noted a problem. A pack of erymanthi saevici, large boar-like creatures with curling tusks and vicious teeth, were bearing down on them unseen. Bellor was too busy directing his men, who by now h
ad forced the assailants back and were barricading the gap with whatever detritus they could find.

  Jaro grabbed a discarded spear. Too far away to be heard by Bellor, he needed to get his attention. He threw the spear, putting all his weight behind it and breathed a sigh of relief as it slammed with deadly force into the head of the leading erymanthi. The creature’s howling shrieks of pain distracted Tyr and his men from their task. They immediately focused on the remaining beasts and as the last one crumpled and fell beneath Tyr’s sword, his eyes met Jaro’s across the storm of battle and he nodded in acknowledgement of Jaro’s help. A bond was formed at that moment between the two men and Jaro knew that whatever happened after this, if they both survived, his relationship with Tyr Bellor had changed.

  He turned back to the main gate, his brows creasing in confusion when he realized the invaders were suddenly falling back. Their retreat made no sense until Jaro registered the sparks of fear that were igniting through the Serpens’s defense. In the distance, outside the gates, a fuse had been lit by the newest arrival to the slaughter. Belial the Bloody. Jaro heard his name falling from the lips of those near him. Their words laced with more than just terror. A dark malevolence slid toward them, its grip paralyzing even the bravest warriors, turning their determination to uncertainty.

  At the same time another, different sensation exploded in his chest. A sudden lifting of a heavy weight, a lock breaking, a cage shattering. Pressure he hadn’t realized was weighing him down suddenly lifted and Jaro felt…free. If gravity didn’t exist on this planet he would have been floating. His bewilderment was shared by others in the crowd and as he scanned expressions similar to his own he realized something that shifted his whole world onto a different axis. The faces he recognized were all his fellow slave-gladiators.

  Griman, standing next to him, stared back wide-eyed. “Did you feel it too?” he whispered. Jaro nodded as Griman smiled and the full import washed over him. For a split second he was free. Free from Phenex. That sensation could only mean one thing—Phenex was dead. His joy, a fleeting thing that took flight momentarily, flapping its wings with awe suddenly dipped to be replaced by anger. Anger that he hadn’t vanquished Phenex, that he would never get his revenge and the depressing realization that he was now tied to someone else. Another warlord who would oppress the people as Phenex had before. His anger quickly morphed to rage and he roared. If he couldn’t have Phenex then he would take out his frustration on the closest equivalent. And lucky for him, the next best thing had just arrived. Belial!

  Jaro ran to the gate, his eyes registering but not dwelling on the horrific evidence of the slaughter that had taken place. So many dead and injured! He knew that others would see to them. His place was on the frontline. Bellor and his Eunomi squad were already there, watching with concern as Belial’s men fell back and regrouped around a contingent of soldiers dressed in only black pants, their bare chests emblazoned with their master’s sigil, a red palm print. They were armed to the teeth, their bare heads and flashing yellow eyes proclaiming them as shedu. These were his elite warriors and as with Phenex’s shedu were first and foremost mercenaries. They differed though from the Serpens’ shedu in that they had sworn bloodoaths to Belial the Bloody. They fought for him not just for coin but also out of loyalty to a warlord who allowed their most base instincts to run riot in battle. And in their midst stood Belial himself.

  Jaro had seen him many times in the pits at gladiatorial events but never dressed in full warrior mode. He was taller than Jaro remembered, over six and a half feet of pure muscle and testosterone. His black hair hung free around his face and his expression of pure malevolence sent ripples of fear through the ordinary citizens who had been brave enough to remain at the gate and try to defend their city.

  Bellor was barking out orders to his saevici warriors who had been brought up from the rear, when Belial spoke. Or rather he roared so loudly that even some of his own men were covering their ears. “I am Belial the Bloody! Phenex, you bastard! Show yourself!” The defenders shuffled uneasily. Phenex’s absence was a gaping hole that they had not failed to notice. Tyr Bellor stepped into the breach as only the man who carried the essence of War could. “You cannot win this fight, Belial. Leave now and we will let you take your dead.”

  Belial’s rabid howls of laughter filled the air. “And who are you to make such demands?”

  Bellor stepped forward. “I am Tyr Bellor, warrior of the Eunomi and this city is under our protection.” Belial’s heavy brows snapped together in confusion. “Last I heard Phenex ruled this city,” he said. “Where is the coward?”

  “You will have to go through us if you are that desperate to see him,” warned Bellor. “This is your last chance.”

  “I make no deals with the Eunomi!” Belial raised his hand. His men immediately moved into formation and magick crackled through the air, sizzling with dark power. Jaro, knowing what was about to be unleashed, shouted at Tyr to instruct his saevici to turn before any warloki in Belial’s ranks could unleash suppression spells to hinder their shift. His warning was unnecessary. Bellor was already giving orders but acknowledged Jaro’s warning with a nod of thanks.

  Jaro turned back to gauge Belial’s strategy just as a bloodcurdling roar shook the ground beneath his feet and he realized that the warlord was shifting. Ripples of panic began to spread amongst the defenders at the gate but were soon quelled by the steadfast calm radiated by Bellor and his Eunomi squadron. Being in perfect balance with the Esseni of Peace had its advantages.

  Belial’s shift continued and Jaro decided it was time. He needed this. Belial was his. All his hate, anger and rage at fate, injustice and circumstance fueled the embers deep down inside, sparking his shift with a force that tore through his cells at lightning speed. Jaro transformed mere seconds after Belial and his men, the wide expanse of ground outside the gate now a sea of saevici beasts poised to rampage. All held back, awaiting Belial’s command.

  The warlord’s saevici form was truly terrifying. He had transformed into a huge black catlike creature, its massive head supporting a lethal horn at the center and from its mouth sprouted two even more dangerous-looking fangs, similar to those on a saber-toothed tiger. The beast’s black coat gleamed when the light of the three suns hit it and reflected back a multicolored rainbow that blazed with a ferocious glare that nearly blinded his adversaries.

  “Pantera!”

  “Chaos be damned!”

  Jaro heard the cries that spread along the frontline as they realized what Belial was—a pantera—the mythical cat that could rip a man in two with just one bite, its horn and claws vicious and practically unbeatable. Panteras were even rarer than Jaro’s own barghesti form and nearly twice as deadly. Although the waves of calm washing over the Serpens’s defenders had held them steady, Jaro heard murmurs of shock and sensed a rising tide of fear wash through the line. He decided to give his men something to cheer for. His men? Jaro didn’t understand how or why but he could feel a deep connection to these men and this city and he knew with a certainty that he would do everything in his power to defend them.

  He answered the pantera’s roars with the bloodcurdling howl of a barghesti, the sound of it immediately heartening to the men around him. The pantera’s ears pricked. His attention caught, the large cat turned in Jaro’s direction, emerald eyes flashing with anger. The battle raged around them. Saevici pitted against saevici, claws, teeth and tusks ripping through fur and thick hides in a savage fight for survival. Men fought for their lives with weapons of all kinds, swords outweighing guns as warloki and wiccani magick made technology nearly useless on this planet. Arrows rained down on the attackers from the high stone wall, the sound of battle, brutal and chilling reverberating across the city and striking fear into the hearts of the civilians sheltering in their homes.

  The two large beasts only had eyes for each other. The pantera homed in on Jaro’s barghesti and charged at him, not caring that he was causing more havoc within his own ranks than the defe
nders. Belial did not care. His men were expendable. All that mattered to him was winning the fight. Jaro could see it in his eyes. But as the pantera charged and Jaro braced for impact, he knew without a doubt that he wanted it more. He needed to win.

  The huge cat and ferocious dog crashed together, rolling in the dust, jaws snapping as each tried to gain the advantage. Jaro barely missed being skewered by the pantera’s horn as the beast aimed for his throat. He managed to deflect the assault by writhing to the side, his claws slashing at the pantera’s chest. He drew blood and used his hind feet to kick the pantera backward, sending him crashing back into the attackers’ ranks. The pantera howled in anger as he righted himself, shaking his head in a daze. In an effort to gain the advantage, Jaro leapt toward him, jaws snapping as he tried to rip out the pantera’s heart. The pantera was too quick, jerking his body sideways so that Jaro’s teeth tore at his shoulder instead. At the same time the pantera’s horn slid across Jaro’s thick fur, grazing the underside of his belly and drawing blood. Blood for blood.

  Both Jaro and Belial drew back, taking a breath, blood flowing from their wounds. The crash of battle had died down as they circled each other and the men around them realized that the outcome of this battle hinged on the duel between the two saevici beasts. The air was thick with tension as the pantera sprang into action. Jaro held his ground as the large cat crashed into him again and then all hell broke loose as a savage spitting whirlwind of black fur, claws, teeth spun out of control barreling into the surrounding warriors scattering bodies like ninepins. Dueling ferociously, the two beasts tore at each other. The men watching cringed at the sound of ripping flesh and howls of agony. Crimson blood splattered the cobbled courtyard in front of the gate, the smell of coppery blood, sweat and fear clogged their throats making their eyes water. No one doubted that this was a fight to the death.