Dark Embrace (Principatus) (28 page)

Worrisome.

Threatening.

Haral needed to destroy the hero worship held for his brother. He needed to make Ezryn’s loyalists desist in questioning why the blood trials had named him overlord. He needed to make them hate his brother, not long for Ezryn’s inevitable ascension.

He needed to turn devoted love to vile contempt.

What better way than to have Ezryn responsible for a bloody, senseless war between vampires and Principatus? What better way to cement his own right to the supreme position than to be the voice of reason, the voice that brought peace between the Realm and the assassins of the Highest?

What better way than to disgrace his brother in the eyes of his own deluded kind?

He threw open the doors to the ballroom and stormed into the massive room, its opulence soothing his wounds. The candles lining the walls and adorning the gilt antique furniture flickered and spluttered in his wake, their warm yellow life fighting for survival. He understood their struggle. They were, indeed, the perfect metaphor for his very existence.

A faint scuffing noise tickled Haral’s senses, and he turned his attention from the room’s candles to stare at the six human females chained naked in the far corner. Fear oozed from their sun-kissed flesh, mingling with their sweat. Six Australian women who never in their wildest nightmares dreamed vampires existed until they were plucked from the streets by his loyal host, the human owner of the mansion, and delivered to him as a welcoming gift.

In a silent blur, he crossed to them, enjoying the frightened gasps his unnatural speed elicited from them. Letting his expression become contemplative, he studied them, noting the absolute terror in their eyes. As scared as they were, they knew better than to scream. The last woman who screamed in his presence had had her head ripped from her body before the screeching note could finish leaving her throat.

Their fear, silent it was, brought a smile to his face. He was Haral Navarr, and he was born to be feared. This was the way it was meant to be. This was power. Strength.

“The way it is,” he whispered, his gaze roaming from one terrified cow to another, “and the way it will fucking be.”

His mind mulled over the course of events to come, his dick growing fat with eager anticipation. One more night before Ezryn was forced to comply with his orders. One more night before big brother’s reputation and existence were decimated.

Which gave Haral one more night and one more day to locate the Principatus slut. With the Principatus in
his
hands, his plans for his brother rose to a whole new level.

He chuckled. On learning Ezzie was tongue-deep in the assassin’s cunt, his plan had begun to formulate. A plan that would not just see his big brother dead, but vilified beyond all measure. A simple plan really, but a very effective one—capture the Principatus, chain her naked and spread-eagle in the ballroom, fuck her and feed from her until she was almost an empty shell before ordering Ezryn to kill her there and then. Simple.

Unless he truly wanted the blood of his followers on his hands, Ezzie would have no choice but to do as commanded. The second he did, Haral would release footage of the heinous deed to the world. With a little bit of creative editing, the vampire race would see their hero, the prodigal son of the First Family, butcher a naked, chained and obviously raped female Principatus while she was defenseless in her human form. They would see Ezryn rip her throat out as she no doubt begged him not to. They would see Ezzie murder her in cold blood. Undeniable, irrefutable proof Ezryn was not the fucking vampire messiah.

Haral chuckled again. Not just a simple plan but also a sweet plan. The absolute destruction of his brother with a delicious added bonus. The blood of a Principatus was, from what Haral had heard, quite a rush. He looked forward to discovering how much.

You still have to find her. And bring Ezryn to heel. How many of your own guards do you think he will slaughter trying to save her?

He sneered at the thought. It didn’t matter. The end justified the means. A lesson taught long ago by his blood-drunkard idiot father.

Turning his mind from his troublesome brother for a moment, he let his attention linger on one particular female cowering in the corner before him. Her thighs were plump and dimpled with cellulite, her belly round and fleshy, her breasts full and tipped with pale pink nipples pinched hard with fear. Her sweat leached from her pores, salty sweet and tinged with the metallic tang of her body’s female blood. He smiled, his mouth growing wet. She was menstruating. Even better. The perfect feed. He would sate his lust and then sate his hunger.

“My Lord?”

Fury flooded through Haral and he hissed, spinning on his heel. How dare he be intruded upon in the ballroom? He locked his stare on one of his many servants scurrying toward him from the far door, the whimpering cries of the women behind him enflaming his rage even more.

The bleeder came to a halt before him, half-bowing, half-cringing. “You wished to be advised on any news of Ezryn Navarr?” he gushed, eyes downcast. “He was spotted moving through the city’s streets less than an hour ago.”

Haral narrowed his eyes. “Spotted by whom?”

“A human pet,” the servant blurted, head lowered, hands knotted. “The source is to be trusted. He is one of our most loyal donors, eager to be granted the transforming bite.”

Haral looked at the vamp before him, trying to ignore the familiar unease stirring in his gut. “Is there anything else?”

The vampire nodded, his expression wary. “General Jacob Ford has been seen moving through the streets as well. Heading for—”

Haral snapped his hand up, silencing the servant. Ford was in Australia as well? Why had he not known this? His throat grew tight and he ground his molars again. He should have known his brother’s lackey wouldn’t be far away from Ezzie’s side.

A heavy pressure squeezed his chest. General Ford presented a problem he hadn’t counted on. The American vampire was a threat. Ford despised him. Ford wanted him a pile of smoldering ash. Ford wanted to
make
him that pile of ash and was quite capable of doing so. Only Ezryn held him in check.

Haral let out a guttural growl. He would need to eradicate the general as well as his brother. He stamped his foot, the sound like a shot in the ballroom’s silence, and the women behind him squealed. “Fuck. Why isn’t anything ever easy?”

Use this information. Use their weaknesses against them and destroy all three at once.

The thought slid through Haral’s head, soft and absolute. He narrowed his eyes, considering the possibility. Ezryn’s weakness had always been his compassion, but Jacob Ford’s weakness was his heart. He was ruled by it. Friendship? Love? Ford believed in both.

Use those weaknesses then. Use them to destroy them all.

He turned away from the bowing servant and slid his gaze back to the silent females staring at him. Back to the plump woman with the full breasts and oh, so delicious fear.

Ezryn, Ford and the Principatus. Destroy all three at once.

He smiled, letting them see his fangs.

And to think his father had accused him of never amounting to anything, of never being as great as the prodigal son. If only Fredrik Navarr were alive to witness his son’s triumph…if only he could see what Haral was about to achieve. Maybe then he’d give his son the attention he deserved. Maybe then he would look at him the same way he looked at Ezzie.

His smile stretched wider as he stepped toward the woman with the dimpled, blood-smeared thighs.

All three at once.

Dark Ones, he couldn’t have planned it better.

Chapter Ten

Ezryn felt his general’s resistance surge through his mind, a thick sludge of demonic force tainting his normally calm subconscious. Jacob did not want to leave, did not want to walk away from Inari. The very notion filled him with such intense unease his vampire’s core was taking over.

“Jacob.” Ezryn fixed his stare on Jacob’s face, noting with detached interest how pointed his general’s fangs had become. How elongated. The vampire coming to the surface. “Jacob, go home.”

A shudder wracked Jacob’s body. He bared his teeth, jaw clenched. “I can’t do that, Ezryn. I need Inari—”

Cold jealousy rolled through Ezryn, irrational and pressing. Jealousy that his general dare believe he had reason to be near Inari. Jealousy that Inari had been speaking of something secret with Jacob—even through the doorway.

Jealousy that Jacob looked at Inari as if seeing her for what she was. What she
truly
was.

He snarled, yanking Inari harder to his body. “Go home, Jacob.” He pushed the command deeper into Jacob’s resistant mind. “Now.”

“Let me go, Ezryn.” Inari struggled in his hold.

He ignored her, his focus narrowed on Jacob’s face. Dismay twisted in his gut at the turbulent uncertainty etched there. His friend fought his true self just as much as he fought Ezryn’s command to leave.

Jealousy rippled through him again, building into a crashing wave of rage. “Jake.” He narrowed his thoughts into a single, pushing suggestion. “You need to go home.”

His dismay drilled deeper into his gut, his rage mounting. He’d never had the need to influence Jacob’s will before. That he did so now tormented him. And infuriated him.

Succubus
.

The word slipped through his head like an oiled serpent, and his anger turned hotter.

Inari. Succubus.

A low growl rumbled in his chest and he tightened his arms around her body. Curse it, he wanted to fuck her. Even knowing what she was, what she was doing to Jacob, he wanted to bury himself in her wet heat.

Succubus
.

Gut heavy, chest tight, he sent out another concentrated push to his friend. “Jake, go home.” He kept his voice calm but forceful. “Now.”

Jacob blinked once. His gaze slipped to Inari, his nostrils flared and he turned on his heel and left, moving away from the door and along the corridor in a blur of cold flight.

“What in all the levels of hell—” Inari began, but Ezryn didn’t let her finish.

He shoved her away from him, pinning her against the wall of her living room with his body before she could regain control. His cock pressed against the junction of her thighs, his chest crushed her breasts. He could smell her musk, taste it on the very air. Dark Ones, he wanted her. “What did you do to him?”

Her eyes widened. “What do you mean? I didn’t do anything to him.”

“I beg to differ.” He snaked his hands up her arms. Snaring the silver bracelets circling her wrists, he grit his teeth against the pain searing into his flesh and yanked them off, throwing them aside with a sneer. Fixing his stare on hers, he curled the fingers of his right hand around her throat. Her pulse beat against his palm, wild and erratic. “I’ve never had to influence my general like I had to just now.”

Inari’s eyes narrowed. “Influence?” She squirmed beneath him. “No wonder you were born to be overlord. Could you be any more of a control freak?”

Ezryn chuckled, dragging his thumb over her bottom lip. “Most definitely, succubus.”

“Fuck off, vampire.”

He lowered his head closer to her face. “Not until I’ve finished what I came to here to do.” He closed his fingers tighter around her throat, stared into her eyes, drew her sweet scent into his body and took possession of her lips with his.

His kiss was savage.

His tongue delved into her mouth, battled with hers. Explosive heat erupted in the pit of her belly, a heat further stoked by the head of Ezryn’s erection massaging the tiny button of her clit through her pants. She whimpered, and the wretched sound was captured by Ezryn’s brutal mouth. The heat in the junction of her thighs grew wet and she rolled her hips, hating herself even as she grew desperate for Ezryn to enter her.

Instead, he dragged his lips from hers and chuckled in her ear, a low, husky laugh of pure malice. “Tonight,
I
am the master of your sexual slavery, Inari. I
am
the one in control. You have no power. No say.
I
decide when you are pleasured and when you will come.”

Her breath caught and she struggled against his body. “Fuck off,” she growled again.

Ezryn laughed, brushing his lips against her cheek, a cold caress that made her pussy weep. “Tell me to remove your clothing.”

Inari’s mouth went dry. “Go to hell.”

He pushed his hips to hers and ground his erection against the curve of her pussy. “We’ve had this conversation before, succubus.” He slid his left hand down her ribcage, over her hip to her ass. “And we both know where it ended. With me between your thighs, feasting on your cream. Now tell me to remove your clothing.”

Anger ripped through the black desire consuming her. “Just who the hell do you think you are?”

“I know who I am,” Ezryn squeezed her ass cheek with brutal pressure before sliding his hands back to her hip. “And now I know who you are,
what
you are too. Now tell me to remove your clothing.”

“Fuck you.”

The red shards in his eyes glowed brighter. “Very well.”

He lifted his hands to the deep V of her corset and popped the top clasp.