Daughters of the Morrigan Boxed Set: (Books 1-3)

by Nina Croft

  For so many years, this man had given her whatever little hope and happiness she had known. Only the moments when she’d been lost in her visions of him had she been able to forget, if only briefly, the horrors of her existence.

  Now she was scared. What if he touched her and it was a huge disappointment? But maybe worse, what if he made love to her and he was everything she had dreamed of? And that would make it so much harder to stay true to her decision.

  When she remained silent, his lips formed a grim line. He drew the knife from the sheath at his thigh. It was a wicked-looking blade, and a flicker of unease churned in her stomach. Was she afraid after all? One thing she did know; she didn’t want to die on her knees. She struggled to her feet, clumsy in the chains. He didn’t help, just watched through narrowed eyes, then took another step closer.

  She realized she’d expected a bit more of an argument from him. That he’d try and convince her. He’d seemed like he cared a little whether she lived or died.

  But maybe not.

  She backed away, but she had nowhere to go; already the rough stone of the cell wall burned cold against her back. She watched, mesmerized as he touched the point of the dagger to her stomach. Through the thin cotton of her tank top, the metal was cold, and she glanced down. It pressed lightly against her. One quick thrust and the blade would pierce her skin.

  But he knew what she was; that he couldn’t kill her like this. Did he mean to torture her first? She closed her eyes. But instead of the expected sharp stab of pain, the tip of the knife glided over her. It slid up over the flat plain of her stomach, leaving a trail of fire, over the swell of her breast, pausing briefly to tease the sensitive peak. Heat flared again in her belly, and she shivered at the sensation. She raised her head as the knife continued upward, coming to rest at the base of her throat. The point pierced her skin, and her eyes flew open.

  “Do you really want death so much?” he asked softly.

  She stared into his eyes. They were deep-blue, cold, showing no emotion. “I don’t fear death,” she said.

  His face twisted into an expression of scorn. “No, it’s life you fear.”

  She gritted her teeth at his words. Then she pressed against the point of the blade, winced at the sharp sting as it sank deeper. He pulled back.

  Hah, he hadn’t expected that.

  “What I fear is being the instrument of my enemy’s ultimate victory.” But even as she spoke, she wondered at his words. She had accepted death, could she now accept a chance at life? Could she somehow learn to live with what she had become?

  “Well, then,” he said, “yield to me, and the prophecy will never come to pass.” He paused. “Come on, Raven,” he coaxed, “wouldn’t you like to live to see Sorien meet that messy end?”

  “I told you, I made that up.”

  He smiled then, a cold, cruel smile. “I could make it happen for you.”

  She considered him for a moment. “Why do you care?”

  “I let you down once before when I demanded your death. I won’t do it a second time. Besides . . .” he paused.

  “Besides?”

  He didn’t answer straightaway. Instead, his gaze wandered down over her body. His eyes, when they returned to her face, were sleepy, heavy-lidded. A slight smile curled the corner of his mouth.

  “Besides,” he murmured, and his voice had lowered, soft, like velvet caressing her sensitive ears. “I want you.”

  Raven stared at him. It was the last thing she had expected to hear, and she was speechless.

  His smile faded. “I didn’t expect to,” he continued, almost speaking to himself. “Nor did I desire to. But since you latched those pretty fangs into my flesh and sucked my blood, I’ve been as hard as a rock. You expect me to kill you, and all I can think about is sinking myself into your body.”

  Warmth kindled inside her at his words, a throbbing heat between her thighs, and she stared at him, almost mesmerized. She licked her lips, and he smiled again. “So what do you say, Raven? Let me take the body you so obviously have no more use for, and afterward, if you still desire it, I’ll take your life.”

  ***

  Kael searched her face and knew in an instant that her resolve was weakening. She had a slightly panicked look in her eyes; they darted from his face, down his body, no doubt searching for the truth of his words. Her eyes widened at the obvious evidence that he wanted her, and then flew back to his face. He forced his breathing to slow as he watched her. She was still chained to the wall, and he knew he should release her, but first he needed to touch her, taste her.

  He opened his fingers and the knife clattered to the floor. Taking a step closer, he reached out to smooth the spot where his blade had pierced her throat. He traced the line of a vein as it pulsed beneath the fragile skin, and he could feel the rapid throb of her blood beneath his fingers. He stroked his fingers over her collar bone, and her skin was like satin. His hand moved lower to gently cup her breast, and he scraped the pad of his thumb over the taut nipple. A tremor ran through her. He paused.

  She was a virgin, and he had one chance to show her that she didn’t want to die. Panic held him immobile. But then he was overcome by a feeling of rightness. This was meant to be. Leaning forward, he softly kissed the corner of her mouth, then brushed her lips with his. She stayed motionless while he deepened the kiss, stroking her lips with his tongue until she opened her mouth slightly and he slipped inside. She tasted sweet and hot, and his hands slid up to cup her face, his lips slanting over hers, his tongue thrusting into her mouth. He finally felt her move against him then. Felt the tentative stirring of her tongue against his, heard the clink of the chains as her arms came up to grip his, and he was filled with a fierce exultation. She would be his.

  Then she went still. He forced himself to pull back and look down into her face. Her silver eyes were unfocused, as though she was seeing something inside her head. A shiver of awe rippled through him.

  “Someone’s coming,” she said, her voice strangely blank. “One of Sorien’s men.”

  He frowned. “I thought you said you didn’t have the sight.”

  She blinked as if awakening from a trance. “No,” she replied. “I said I hadn’t seen Sorien’s death. You have to go.”

  ***

  The aftermath of a vision always left her slightly dazed, and Raven frowned. Then it came to her—obviously he couldn’t leave her; he hadn’t yet done what he had come for, and he couldn’t allow the prophecy to be fulfilled. Now they had run out of time and he would have to kill her after all. She felt a brief stab of regret and wondered at it. She’d thought herself so willing to die, had welcomed the thought of peace at last, and now she wavered. What had changed?

  She could still feel the sensation of his lips on hers. At the first touch, her body had stirred to life and, for a brief moment, she had wondered if he truly cared. But nothing had changed. He hadn’t come to save her; he had come to save the rest of the world. She bowed her head, praying for the strength to see this through, to be strong.

  “If they come now, then Sorien will win. Don’t you understand? I’ve accepted my death. It was the thought of Sorien gaining from it that was truly killing me.” She slammed her hand into the rock wall behind her. “You must prevent the prophecy from being fulfilled.”

  He stared at her through narrowed eyes. “Forget it!” he snarled. “I came here to save you, and I am not killing you now.” He took a deep breath. “We can’t go now. I’ll never get you out without the distraction. And the Council is taking its time. So tonight I’ll leave you, but the next time I come, we leave together.”

  And the lights went out, and he was gone.

  Chapter Seven

  Something must have warned them. Or maybe Sorien was getting twitchy as her birthday approached.

  Since Kael’s last visit, three days ago, they’d been checking on her every few hours. They just peered in through the door, not coming close. Most of them were afraid of her. But at least they brought h
er water. She had enough to drink and bathe. Not all of the fire-demons were as bad as their leader.

  But perhaps, somehow, Kael was aware of the increased security. Maybe that was why he hadn’t come back. He knew her escape was impossible. But it was unlikely he would just leave her here and allow the fire-demons to fulfill the prophecy.

  Which meant…something had happened to him.

  She rubbed the spot between her eyes. Why couldn’t the stupid visions come when they were of some use?

  Three days, and they’d been the longest of her life.

  Her emotions constantly shifted between hope and despair and back again. She still hadn’t decided whether she would allow him to make love to her. Or even if she would go with him. Or the alternative.

  Hours were spent trying to imagine Kael killing her. Actually, it was easier than imagining him making love. Or having sex. Love didn’t come into it. He would make it a quick death. It wouldn’t hurt.

  Closing her eyes, she remembered the sensation of the knife at her throat. Just one sharp lunge and she’d be gone—well, as long as he followed through and chopped off her head—and the nightmare would be over.

  Death or sex.

  Ugh.

  Except he wasn’t here. So it was pointless to keep thinking about her options. As usual, she didn’t have any.

  And if he did come, then whatever happened would have to happen before one of Sorien’s men came to check on her. She didn’t want Kael to die because of her. Even if he was head of the horrible Council.

  She was sitting on the ground, chewing on her fingernails, when she heard him arrive. The now-familiar flutter of tiny wings. Then the light flashed on, and there he was. Her heart rate picked up, a mix of fear and…she wasn’t sure. Or maybe she just wasn’t ready to admit it yet.

  By her reckoning, there were still hours of daylight. And her guard was expected at any moment. She struggled to her feet, trying to reconcile the fear and the hope churning inside her. Her palms were clammy, her heart now racing.

  As he stepped toward her, the breath caught in her throat. He lowered his head and she couldn’t move, was locked in place by some invisible force as his lips touched hers briefly, sending warmth radiating through her.

  He raised his head. “How have you been?”

  She blew out her breath. “How do you think I’ve been? I’ve been stuck in this crappy cell for three days. I’ve been…crappy.” The shadow of a smile crossed his face and her hands fisted at her side. “You have to go. They’ve been checking on me every few hours, and they’ll find you here.”

  He shook his head. “I won’t leave you again. We go tonight. As soon as it’s dark.”

  Raven searched his face and could see the resolve in his expression. But how could they wait until darkness? Her guard would be here any moment. If he found Kael here, he would raise the alarm and they would never get out, and any chance of freedom or preventing the prophecy would be snatched from her. Kael had to kill her. The prophecy could not come to pass. Panic tore at her mind.

  The faint clang of a metal door opening warned her of the approaching guard.

  “He’s almost here,” she whispered. “You must do it now.”

  “Relax,” Kael murmured.

  His expression was impassive, calm, and Raven had to bite back the scream that threatened to erupt. He looked around the cell, and then he vanished.

  Raven blinked. She stared at the spot where he had stood and caught a flicker of movement. A small jeweled gecko darted across the floor. It clawed up the wall beside the cell door and went still, blending into the rough stone. The light went out and Raven sank to her knees, praying they would do no more than peer in the door.

  The key scraped in the lock, and a moment later the door was flung open.

  Crap.

  Taking a deep, calming breath, she allowed her body to sag against her restraints, shaking her head so her long hair spilled over to curtain her face.

  The cell was filled with light, and Raven closed her eyes. She remained motionless as the heavy footsteps crossed the short space. The stench of sulfur and smoke that always accompanied the fire-demons seared her nostrils, and fear blossomed inside her—a nest of cockroaches writhing in her belly. She swallowed the nausea of hatred that rose in her throat as the fire-demon came to a halt in front of her. He leaned down and grasped her hair in a claw-like hand. Her head was jerked upright, and she opened her eyes and stared into his face. His breath was hot against her skin, and she tried to hold her own breath against the stink.

  It was Grieffen, Sorien’s second-in-command. “There was a light.” He glanced around the cell, then back to her, eyes narrowing in confusion. His eyes searched her face then down over her body.

  “You look well, witch. What evil have you been brewing in here?”

  When she remained mute, he straightened and took a step back, raising his hand. Raven watched him warily, bracing herself for the blow, then couldn’t resist a quick peek at the wall where the lizard had been. It was gone. She looked back at the fire-demon. His gaze flicked about the room as though he could sense something amiss.

  A soft, sibilant hiss came from beneath the cot. Grieffen turned to stare.

  The serpent emerged gradually from the shadows, its coffin-shaped head mere inches from the ground as it glided slowly across the floor of the cell. Raven found she couldn’t look away, her gaze riveted to the sinuous, gray-brown body. It was thicker than a man’s arm and over ten feet in length. The demon appeared petrified, locked in place, staring in horror as the snake slithered to a halt a yard away from him. Slowly, it raised its head, flat hood spreading, jaws opening to reveal the inky blackness of its mouth and flashing, razor-sharp fangs. Raven watched transfixed as its head slowly undulated from side to side.

  Then it struck.

  She hardly caught the movement, it was so fast. Once, twice, then again, it sank its fangs deep into the face and throat of the fire-demon. Grieffen moved then, his hands rising to try to ward off the attack, scrabbling at the serpent. He had no chance, crashing to his knees under the force of the blows. A fierce wave of exultation washed over her as a whimper trickled from his swelling lips.

  She turned from him to stare at the serpent. It watched her, yellow eyes unblinking. Then Kael was back. He stood before her, his expression blank as he stared at the demon. Grieffen was still on his knees and Kael kicked out, hitting him in the chest, and the demon fell backward to the floor.

  Kael nudged the writhing fire-demon with his toe. “Isn’t it good to know you’re not the only thing with fangs?”

  “What was that?” Raven asked.

  “Black mamba,” he replied. “Deadliest snake on the planet. It normally takes around twenty minutes for the poison to kill. Fortunately, fire-demons run a bit hotter than your average human—he’ll be dead in five.”

  “Pity.”

  Kael turned to her and smiled. “You don’t think we should put him out of his misery then?”

  “No.”

  Grieffen was convulsing now, his back arched from the floor, white foam frothing at his mouth, his nostrils. Raven watched curiously. She felt no compassion, only regret that he wouldn’t suffer longer. Within a few minutes he was still, his face a mask of agony as the life faded from his bulging eyes. Kael knelt beside the body, knife in hand, grabbed the head by the hair, and severed the neck. The body collapsed in upon itself, a pall of ochre smoke rising from the corpse, and in a few moments, nothing remained but a pile of ashes.

  Raven glanced up at Kael. He appeared lost in thought. Was he considering his options? Deciding whether it was safer to kill her after all? He had said he wanted her, and she believed him, but was that enough to risk their capture?

  She was about to find out.

  Chapter Eight

  Kael rose to his feet and kicked at the ash with the toe of his boot. He hadn’t planned on any direct confrontation. His aim had been to lie low until the attack began and then get Raven out in the confusi
on. But the fire-demon hadn’t left him any choice. Clearly suspicious, he no doubt would have raised the security level and they would have never gotten out of the place unnoticed.

  There was also the fact that he’d raised his hand to Raven—never going to happen. Not again.

  “They’ll come looking for him,” Raven said.

  He shrugged. “Maybe. Who was he? Do you know?”

  Raven nodded. “It was Grieffen, Sorien’s second-in-command, and he’ll be missed.”

  She was right. “We need to get out of here.”

  He considered making love to her quickly, now, ensuring once and for all that the prophecy could not come to pass. But his whole being rebelled against taking her here with the stench of dead fire-demon in their nostrils.

  The problem was: where to take Raven to keep her safe until the attack? “Stay here,” he said.

  Raven rattled her chains. “Like I’ve got an option,” she muttered.

  Kael grinned, his grin widening as she scowled in return.

  ***

  Raven watched as he left the cell then closed her eyes and waited. She had to force herself to relax, impatient to get away.

  She was trying to keep down the feelings of hope that had been growing since Kael had first appeared days ago. She’d tried to fight it, scared that she was doomed to disappointment.

  But it had been almost impossible. The news that her father was alive and had been searching for her had lightened her spirit. Whatever happened here today, she would always have that. She’d felt so forsaken, as though she were unloved in a world full of darkness, a mere pawn in a war which had gone on for so long no one remembered the beginning. Now the knowledge that someone had been searching for her through all the long years was like a thrill in her blood.

  She also realized how weak she had been. The blood she had taken in the past had never been enough; it had merely reduced the craving. But hunger had been a constant companion. Feeding up until then had always been accompanied by guilt, but now she relived the moment when she had sunk her fangs into Kael’s arm. Felt again the resilience of his firm flesh beneath her teeth, licked her lips as she remembered the rich taste of his blood. It had been days ago and yet she could feel her body responding to the memory, heat coiling at her core, her breasts swelling. That brought back other feelings, the sensation of his huge hand cupping her breast, the taste of his tongue as he kissed her. And she realized she no longer feared his taking of her body. Rather, she feared that somehow it would not happen, and Kael would be forced to kill her so as not to let her fall innocent into the hands of their enemies.