Niklas set Brianna away from him and hung his head. “You’d better go, Laharra. When she has her mind set on something, she just won’t give up.” He leaned down and gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead. “I will see you at dinner tonight.” He shifted himself within his clothing. “I just hope I can survive until our wedding.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Brianna smiled in her sleep. Light from the window tickled her senses. She opened her eyes slowly. The last few weeks had been storybook perfect and would have been even more so had the threat of the end of this world not been looming over their heads.
The wedding was tomorrow. Finally, she and Niklas would be able to sleep in the same bed again. She stretched as she slowly came awake. As usual, she was deliciously sore in a few select places, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. Silera would certainly have a fit if she’d known about their hideaway along the Shantamoura. She’d been so diligent in keeping them apart at the palace.
Brianna frowned as her hand bumped the wall beside her. She didn’t remember moving the bed against the wall. There wasn’t really a need for that in a room the size of this one. She opened her eyes and looked around, finding that she wasn’t in the room she’d grown accustomed sleeping in and Killer was nowhere in sight.
Her stomach rolled as the usual morning sickness began to make itself known. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing her rebellious stomach to settle down, just this once. She needed to think.
A picture of a shadowy stranger loomed into her mind. Only he wasn’t a stranger, as Brianna had recognized him. It was the same man from the ball, with that same cold smile. She remembered now—he brought her here. What did he want with her? It must have been him. His face loomed in her mind.
Brianna cupped her head in her hands and felt a lump there. He must have hit her with something. Her head ached. The throbbing was a steady cadence torturing her already abused head. The bitter taste of bile hung in the back of her throat, making her swallow convulsively.
She inhaled deeply, needing to gain control of her emotions, trying to be strong. Brianna did this even as she gagged from the mixture of the foul taste in her mouth and her morning sickness. The smell of dankness and mildew that permeated the room didn’t help with her queasy stomach. She squeezed her eyes shut when she heard the faint scuttling noises in the corner. Rats? She shook her head and shuddered. She didn’t want to know.
Trying to look around without moving too much, she wondered what she was doing here. Where in the world was she? Or perhaps a more appropriate question would be where in the universe was she? There wasn’t a way to tell if she was even on a world or not. They could be on a ship drifting through space for all she knew.
Brianna pressed her trembling hand to her mouth, trying to stifle a hysterical giggle. With any luck, they wouldn’t realize she was awake yet, and that would at least give her some time to think. She closed her eyes and prayed for her strength to return. She took another deep breath. Just a little while longer and maybe her head would clear enough to formulate some sort of plan, at least she hoped so.
She opened her eyes again and examined every inch of the dimly lit cell. It was too small to be a room. Six feet by six feet was just big enough for a bed and one small table and chair. The door was flat with no decoration. The cream-colored walls and brown floor blended well with the natural wood furnishings. She looked down. The bed was covered with a gray utilitarian blanket. The small table held one pitcher and one glass.
The bed was hard, and her muscles were sore from resting on it in one position for Goddess knew how long. She ached all over. Bruises marred what she could see of her arms and, if the pain was any indication, her legs as well. Brianna needed to move, but didn’t dare, because she didn’t want to make a sound—and she was sure she’d make plenty of noise if she tried to move right now, it hurt so much. She feared the creaking of the bed or the rustling of her clothing would alert her captors to her conscious state.
Briefly, she thought of calling Larin for help, but she wanted to try Niklas first. She couldn’t keep calling upon the Fae for help without hurting Niklas’s feelings. Brianna gazed longingly at the pitcher on the table and licked her dry, chapped lips. She was so thirsty. She worried about that. Would they drug her? Had they drugged her already? She slid a protective hand around her slightly rounded stomach. Had they already harmed her precious cargo? She swiped impatiently at a tear. There was no time for crying. If she was going to protect her children, she had to find a way out of here.
Brianna closed her eyes and concentrated. She tried using the mind link to call Niklas to her. There was no response. Either they were too far apart or her captors were somehow blocking their mental link. She refused to consider the thought that he could be unconscious or dead.
Niklas? Please, answer me Niklas, I’m so scared. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and concentrated on staying calm. Getting hysterical was not going to help matters. She needed to stay calm, so she could think her way out of this. Trying to keep her movements to a minimum, she itched to bring her hand to her mouth. Her horrible nervous habit of nail biting was taking a tremendous toll on her ability to think right now. If they were monitoring her, not only would they see her horrible habit, but they would know she was awake. Surely they wouldn’t see just a nibble…
Brianna had almost lost the battle with her inner nail biting self when the door was flung open so forcefully she’d forgotten to feign unconsciousness. Her eyes were wide with fear as she looked at the man in the doorway.
He was tall, like Niklas, but that was where the resemblance ended. Where Niklas had laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. This man had lines between them from scowling. His mouth slashed cruelly across the lower half of his face, showing his contempt for her, or perhaps his contempt for the entire human race.
It was the same man from the ball.
Niklas! She could hear herself screaming, yet her mouth was firmly closed. She had to calm herself. This could not be good for her or for the babies. The thought of her unborn children had a calming effect, allowing Brianna to take a deep breath and think. “What do you want with me?” she asked him levelly.
He smiled. “Who said I wanted you?” He stepped further into the room and sat down on the chair. “You have something I want. Something that will help me kill the usurper and place the rightful heir where he belongs.” He held out his hand. “Give it to me, and perhaps I will be kind and let you go.” He shrugged. “Or I may just kill you quickly instead of torturing you. Either way, giving me what I want is better than making me take it from you.”
“The rightful heir?”
“I am the rightful heir. Niklas is my cousin. His line has ruled for thousands of years when it should have been mine. It went to his, only by the virtue that his grandmother married the king first.” He held out is hand. “Give me the stone.”
Brianna wanted to try to talk reason with him. Tell him that of course the firstborn son would rule, not an adopted son, but the man was crazy.
Go to hell! “I have no idea what you’re talking about, sir.” Brianna rolled onto her other side and brought her legs up to her chest, wanting to do whatever she could to prevent him from noticing her pregnancy. This man wanted to destroy the rightful heir, and she was carrying three more. She had no doubt that he would take great joy in murdering them all.
“The stone,” he said impatiently. “I want the stone.” He wiggled his fingers as if that alone would make the stone appear from its hiding place.
Brianna sighed, pulled on the chain that held her lucky Petoskey stone out from under her shirt. “This stone?” She feigned a look of total confusion. “This is just my lucky Petoskey stone. I don’t know why you’d want this so badly.” She drew the chain over her head and handed it to him.
The man flung it across the room where it cracked against the wall. “Do you mock me? Do you think that I will not kill you where you lie?” He snarled, his ominous dark eyes turning black with rage.<
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You won’t if you want the stone, buddy. Niklas won’t give it to you, and I don’t have it. It was a wonderful thought, even if it didn’t make her feel any better. She closed her eyes and thanked the Goddess that she’d taken Niklas’s advice and never worn it. Brianna yawned.
The man glared at her, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. His inky black hair hung loose and lank against his forehead, looking greasy.
“You seem a bit strung out, maybe you should try decaf.” Brianna closed her eyes against his penetrating glare. If she kept looking at him, she may just lose her nerve.
“I don’t need your primitive stimulants. They are beneath me,” he snarled.
She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “It was just a suggestion. You appear so tense.” Why did he want the stone? Did he know of its powers? “What do you want with this stone anyway? It’s not like its anything special.” She gave a delicate shudder. “It’s not even pretty. The only reason I even kept it is because my mother gave it to me. And that’s only if we’re even talking about the same thing.” She pasted an innocent look on her face, hoping it appeared genuine.
“What I will use it for is my concern. You only have to provide me with the means to obtain it.”
“You have no right to hold me here like this, so let me go.” She raised her chin, looking into his hard eyes that gleamed when he smiled cruelly. He looked around the cell he kept her in. “To think I never imagined I would have to point out to you that you are in no position to make such demands, Your Highness.” His tone was mocking. He reached out and trailed a finger down her cheek.
His touch was abhorrent. It was all Brianna could do to not flinch or pull away when he touched her. But she was not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he scared her. She suppressed a shiver of revulsion, somehow knowing that if she wasn’t careful, this man would drop all pretence of civility. “Why have you brought me here?”
His mocking gaze raked her from head to toe, making her feel dirty in the wake of his look. His lips curled in a parody of a smile.
“Why, to have my wicked way with you, of course.”
Brianna scooted away. “I would rather die.” He rushed forward, much faster than she could have anticipated. He grabbed her neck, forcing her against the wall. She choked. His hand squeezed, blocking her airway.
“That can be arranged!” he enunciated every word carefully. “Do you understand, Your Highness?” he spat. He released her, throwing her to the floor. He indicated the water on the table. “Clean yourself up, as I will be coming to escort you to dinner.”
“You’ll never get the stone. I don’t have it anymore.” Brianna choked past her sore throat.
“Where the stone is, is of no consequence. I will possess it.” He turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him.
“Well just wait and see if I invite you to another one of my tea parties, mister. You’re right on the top of my go to Hell list!” she shouted after him. Brianna looked around the room and was glad he left her. With all of her bravado gone, she needed a respite.
She stood and winced as her body protested the abuse it had suffered at the man’s hands and limped over to the corner to retrieve her necklace. She gave it a dirty look “Some lucky charm you are,” she said as she slid the chain back over her head and limped back to the bed where she concentrated on contacting Niklas again.
Niklas? Please answer me. Why is it I can never make contact with you? Still nothing. It must be the distance. Otherwise, she should be able to communicate with him. She wasn’t as strong of a telepath as Niklas. She sighed and sat down with her head in her hands. How in the world was she going to get out of this mess?
Brianna closed her eyes and a picture sprang into her head. A man with silver hair and silvery blue eyes and next to Niklas, the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. “Larin!”
“You called, oh beauteous one?” He was bowing again.
“How can someone be so appealing and yet so annoying at the same time?” Brianna glared at him. “You can be so damn obnoxious.” She limped to the table in the corner and poured herself a glass of water. She sniffed it suspiciously.
Larin took a good look around the cell that served as Brianna’s accommodations. His surprise was evident.
“You know,” she said, leaning against the wall. “I find it a bit comforting to find that you obviously don’t know everything. Even though you try to make it seem as though you do.” She had to hand it to him, though. He recovered very quickly.
“What is the occasion of your summons, oh lovely flower of the desert? Your incredible beauty is startling, though surrounded by thorns.” He put his hands together, the tips rested against his lips. “Yes, a cactus flower, a beautiful white blossom surrounded by the most horren—”
“Will you cut the crap? Geez, I thought you were supposed to help me if I needed it. Not make me sick to my stomach at every opportunity.” She looked around the sparse room. “Well, I obviously need your assistance. Need I say more?”
Larin crossed the room, took her chin into his hand and looked into her eyes. “I do not understand why you don’t use your own power to save yourself.”
His slim hands gently brushed over her bruises, taking some of the pain away. He massaged her head, his magical hands removing the pain of the goose egg she’d discovered there. “I don’t have any power, Larin. I’ve told you that already.”
Larin eyed her with disbelief. “How can you so readily believe everything that has happened to you, yet still deny your own power, your own heritage?” He held his hand out to her, clearly wanting her to take it. “You are, at least, part Fae, Brianna. Your power is your heritage, much the same as the color of your hair and your eyes. The blue in your eyes comes from your Fae blood, just as the lightness of your hair.” He smoothed a tendril of her hair behind her ear. “Just as you have accepted your blue eyes, you must accept your power. You must learn to accept it, Brianna, otherwise you will be unable to help him.” Larin smiled at her softly and snapped his fingers.
Chapter Twenty-three
“Brianna!”
She turned at the sound of Silera’s voice. Larin had unceremoniously dumped her into the dining room, where Niklas’ mother sat drinking tea with another woman.
Silera’s eyes were full of tears. “Where…where did you come from?” She shook her head. “I don’t care, I’m just glad to see that you’re back.” She rushed to Brianna, her arms open. “I was beside myself with worry.” Silera wrapped her in a warm embrace. “Are you well?”
Brianna nodded, hugged her back, then reached up to push the hair from her face.
“Oh my Goddess, what happened to your neck!” Silera put her hand to her neck and felt gently.
Touching her neck, Brianna felt the welts there. She could almost feel the imprint of the man’s fingers. No wonder it hurt so much when she talked.
Silera brushed Brianna’s hair back and frowned at the multiple bruises she saw on her face, neck and arms.
“Ahreelia, find Niklas, tell him Brianna has returned. Tell him,” she looked at Brianna’s bruised face and arms. “Tell him she is well, but she needs him.” She turned and gave the woman a stern look. “Go. Quickly.”
Brianna suddenly felt faint. Silera grasped her by the shoulders, took her to the adjoining room and told her to lie down on a long surface with flat cushions. In the short time she’d spent on Terrna, she found this was what passed for a couch.
Silera left the room for a moment and returned with a basin of cool water. She took a cloth and began to bathe Brianna’s cuts and bruises with it.
Brianna closed her eyes. What was it with people wanting her to bathe all of the time, did she smell or something? Geez, she’d just had a bath last night.
“I won’t ask you to speak now.” Silera wiped Brianna’s brow gently. “Any questions can wait until Niklas has seen you to your room and you are comfortable.”
Silera’s ministrations were so soothin
g, she felt herself drifting off… She woke with a start when she heard a loud crash. A scream lodged in her throat. Who was it? Had the man found her again? Sitting up, Brianna saw Niklas walking toward the corner of the room where Silera had cared for her contusions. Tears filled her eyes. He was the most beautiful sight.
Silera was hurrying behind him, talking frantically. “…the doctor, he is on his way. Niklas, what if—”
Brianna shook her head. Still not totally fluent in Terrnan, she had trouble understanding everything that was being said when they talked so quickly. She tried, but her head pounded mercilessly, making it hard to concentrate. Even with her head aching so badly, she couldn’t help but admire the way Niklas walked, the power in each stride, the way his hair framed his face. She had eyes only for him, watching as he carried himself with an air of confidence.
Even through the cloud of her exhaustion, Brianna’s senses were on overload. What was it about him that had every one of her nerve endings acutely aware of his presence? She looked down toward his hands. He had such good gentle hands, long fingered and strong.
He reached out to brush the hair from her face. His touch only served to add more fantasies to her libidinous thoughts. He looked down at her arms, gently lifting her leg to raise the hem of her slacks so he could inspect it. Brianna watched as he stiffened, his jaw tensed, and a muscle jumped under the skin, he was so angry. Niklas reached down to pick her up.
Brianna flinched away. “Don’t…” Regretting the words almost as soon as she said them, she bit her lip. Looking everywhere but his beautiful eyes and tempting face, she searched for the words to explain how she felt.
Niklas closed his eyes. “I will not hurt you, Laharra. I am not angry with you, I am simply angry at what has been done to you. Please let me carry you to your rooms where I can bathe you and see to your wounds.” He waited patiently for her permission.
Briannas Prophecy Page 24