Dark Rival (24 page)

Royce turned a brilliant gaze upon her. "Alba is in chaos now but it isn't anarchy—yet. We all answer to the King an' Queen. Moffat is a great lord an' bishop, Ailios, an’ he canna declare war as he wishes on the King's men. He canna attack Malcolm or me as he pleases. In a way, there's a truce between us. There’d be anarchy if a deamhan dared to invade a Master's home at will, for the Master would have revenge. This," he said harshly, “is the beginning of anarchy in Alba ."

Allie shivered. ''Yeah, and it's because of me.”

He took her elbow. "Ye serve good. Innocence an’ the Brotherhood. Any Master would defend ye with his life. Let us go down."

Allie stared as the first horsemen appealed behind the army of giants and equipment. All the demons were mounted. So much death wafted from the horsemen, And the aura of the entire army burned in red. And suddenly, Allie's gaze went to one of the horsemen on the far right, mounted on a dark beast. The rider was far away, but Allie knew he didn't wear armor because he did not gleam in the sun. For one moment, she couldn't look away, and she felt the demon's terrible, hypnotic pull.

She felt his smile. Come to me, Ailios…

Allied heart slammed—but she couldn't look.

"Ailios," Royce said sharply, turning her toward him.

Her relief was crushing. She had not a doubt she’d been staring at Moffat and that he'd greeted her with telepathy, trying to mesmerize her. "Let's go.” Allie whispered nervously. He had almost succeeded.

"Today he dies," Royce said.

THE BATTLE STARTED and the world as she knew it changed.

In one instant, the peace and calm of the day was shattered. Allie stood with Royce in the middle ward, between both gatehouse towers. Flaming arrows whistled lauding not just on the ramparts where most of the men were positioned, but in the ward not far from where she and Royce stood. Allie tensed as rocks and boulders exploded, shards flying dangerously close to them. Men began crying out in agony, shot by arrows or hit by the rocks. A man on fire fell from the walls, landing in the bailey, just across from where she stood with Royce. Shouts of rage began, as the defenders fired arrows and bolts from the crossbows at the attackers, hurling flaming liquids down upon them.

But the wounded increased in number, with every slew of incoming arrows and projectiles. Royce grasped her arm more tightly, as if he knew that it was almost impossible for her not to rush to the stairs and go up to help the wounded. Allie braced herself. She had to stay put for now. Nothing had ever been so hard.

Suddenly a sword-size bolt flew over the crenellations, impaling three men in a row, On the bolt, they fell to their death in the ward.

"I can't do this," Allie screamed, shoving at Royce. "I can save two of those men."

He pulled her into his embrace and locked her there, against his chest. “Stay still. They've breached the moat. Giants are scaling the walls—human ones."'

Allie went motionless, staring up at him. “How do you know?"

"I’m listenin’ to Malcolm," he said.

He was reading Malcolm's mind. Malcolm and Claire were fighting the invaders from the largest tower, which guarded the drawbridge. Allie tuned in to the three men and realized they were all dead. She told herself not to cry—not now, not yet.

Later, when it was over, she would pray for all the sacrifice and bless their souls, and then she would grieve for the human dead.

She focused on the castle around them, but she didn't feel evil inside, not yet.

"He’s waiting" Royce said, “for the right moment."

Allie couldn't imagine when that would be. The arrows, bolt and catapults kept coming. She could now hear the front gates being rammed. Worse, Malcolm's men were shouting more urgently and furiously on the ramparts. With dread, she looked up and saw two giants crawling over the crenellations. They were instantly slain by Malcolm and Claire and two other huge warriors, using both swords and energy. One was dark and swarthy, the other bronzed and gulden. Allie seized Royce's sleeve—the two additional men had the brilliant powerful auras that only Masters could have.

He had followed her gaze. ''Aye, Malcolm has summoned help."

A slew of giants now began breaching the crenellations. Malcolm, Claire and the two new Masters instantly hurled them back with blasts of energy, but as they dropped, more giants appeared. Allie saw Aidan appear beside them, sword in hand, now dressed like a medieval Highlander in a tunic, mail and boots, his legs bare. She watched him viciously slay four of the giants, making him as much a Terminator as Royce. He no longer appealed affable at all.

Wood screamed, shrieked, exploded.

Allie, now encircled in Royce's aims, her back to his chest, tensed in dread as the gates were bleached and the giants rushed in.

"Ye stay here,”
 
Royce said grimly. "Ye stay against this wall." He seized her shoulders. "Moffat will try to come now that I fight. Ye ken? I’ll keep one eye on ye."

Allie nodded, but she didn't want him distracted. She seized his face in both hands. “Don’t you dare keep one eye on me! I won’t move. You fight with both eyes on the demons, damn it!"

In answer, Royce handed her a small deadly dagger and drew both swords, and before Allie could blink, he was striding into the horde, viciously determined, a golden warrior. He entered the fray like a lethal machine, his arms moving at stunning speed, like rotating blades, and the giants fell, one after another, as he strode through their midst. He had become a two-handed killing machine.

The entire inner ward had become a battlefield. Just feet from where she stood, Masters and Highlanders fought the giants.

The pale sand-colored dirt ran with blood.

Bodies lay everywhere—the dying and the dead.

How could she simply stand there and watch, doing nothing?

Allie saw that Royce was on a roll. He certainly seemed invincible now. The huge urge to heal overwhelmed her and she moved just two steps from the wall. There, she knelt beside a very young man, stabbed through his side, half of his tunic covered in blood. The boy’s eyes were closed, but he was alive.

Allie sent her white healing light over him and through him. She focused, the terrible uproar of the battle vanishing, and it was only her and the young defender and her white healing power. She didn't move, aware of his severed flesh knitting, of a severed muscle healing. She felt his heart beating normally. She was rewarded when his eyes opened and he blinked at her in surprise. Then he smiled. "Lady, thank ye."

Allie glanced into the melee. Royce was half covered in blood but he was focused and unhurt. Every giant who turned toward him—or that he attacked—fell to his blades. In spite of how horrible such a battle was, the sight of him thrilled and reassured her. He was power and courage and today, the gods smiled upon him.

The giants kept on coming through the gatehouse however, never mind that the men above were pouring hot oil on them and shooting them with flaming arrows. A little heat wouldn't stop them, Allie thought grimly. But they were human, and enough wounds would eventually kill their bodies.

She glanced up at the ramparts; most of the battle had moved down into the ward. She was pretty sure that wasn't a good sign. Claire and Malcolm remained above, though, fighting those still trying to scale the castle walls.

Allie turned away. Another man lay unconscious a few feet away from where she knelt. He'd suffered a blow from one of the catapulted rocks and had fallen from the ramparts above. Allie scrambled over to him and began healing him instantly.

"Ailios."

At the silken, seductive, deathly tone, Allie froze. Slowly she looked up at Moffat.

He smiled at her. He truly had the perfect beauty of a golden angel—but he was the harbinger of death. His eyes gleamed with a demonic lust that was so very sexual Allie's tension skyrocketed. In that instant she knew he’d entrance and seduce her before he was through with her—and that he’d take more than pleasure from her. He'd take power, leaving her the victim of a pleasure crime. "Aye," he murmured.

Allie felt a chill sweep over her—and it was partly sensual.

"You’ll never be able to resist me, Ailios. I’ll wait while you finish healing him." He chuckled.

In that instant, Allie believed him. His powers of enchantment were terribly strong and she had to somehow keep a shield of white light about herself. Worse, she knew that if he seized her, he'd leap into another time and place with hen He only stood a foot away, towering over her; and that was dangerously close. She had to put more distance between them—but she was so afraid to move now. If she moved, she was certain he'd reach down and grab her. She didn't even dare look toward Royce.

Sweat ran down her body in streams of fear as she tried to think, on her bands and knees, near the wounded man.

"You don't wish to finish the healing?" he murmured, his blue eyes hot and bright.

It was hard to think clearly when the lord of so much mayhem and death stood staring down at her, contemplating all the ways he'd use her. There was so much fear her chest hurt. Allie knew she had to move. She erupted, crawling backward as fast as she could.

His pointy shoes followed her.

Before she could leap to her feet, her heels hit the wall. She looked up in horror.

He knelt so they were almost face-to-face his features perfect. "You’re so much like your mother," he breathed.

His breath tickled her skin. How did he know her mother? "Fuck off."

Her inarticulate response clearly amused him. "Don't you want to see her, Ailios?"

Allied heart slammed. "She's dead "

"Really? Since when?" His cruelly beautiful smile played.

She could hear herself panting. "I will never heal demons.”

His soft laughter came. "Maybe, maybe not. I have vast powers, beauty, and I believe that in the end, you will serve me well." His gaze slid to her mouth. It dropped lower, to her breasts and cleavage, daringly revealed in the tiny top.

"I'll die before healing demons," she said and she spat at his face. "And you'll have to rape me to get me in bed."

He wiped the spittle aside. "I'll enjoy that even more than seduction. If you wish to scream in sexual pain, it can be arranged."

Allie knew he meant it. She realized she was shaking as she slowly sat, still on her knees, her back now against the wall. There was no damned place to go.

He reached for her.

But she had been waiting for his move.

In spite of his magnetic pull, she thrust the dagger through his palm. He growled, eyes widening in surprise, and he hesitated a fraction of a second.

Allie ducked and rolled beneath his outstretched arm.

Her hair leapt into his hand.

She howled from the pain. But even briefly blinded by it, there was panic. Could his grasp on her hair be enough to take her through time with him?

And from the corner of her eye, she saw the blade.

A swirl of silver light. Royce.

It sliced through her hair and she was free. Allie leapt away.

Royce stood facing Moffat, smiling coldly.

Simultaneously, Moffat and Royce blasted one another with energy, but it was a stand-off. Moffat seized his sword with his bleeding hand, drawing it free of its scabbard. He thrust—as did Royce. The two blades locked.

So afraid the future would be repeated in the past. Allie looked at Royce, his blood-drenched leine sticking to his entire body like a second skin, delineating every muscle he had. His face was a mask of savage pleasure. He wasn't afraid—he relished the violent encounter.

"A Ailios," be said softly.

And he stepped back and thrust, forcing Moffat back to the wall. The blades shrieked and screamed, metal hissed and burned, filled with their power. Suddenly Royce drew his short sword, so swiftly Allie was certain he'd mortally wound the other man.

Somehow Moffat drew his own small blade and parried.

Allie looked at her dagger, which lay on the ground not far from where the two men were furiously engaged. They seemed to be evenly matched, the one exception being the wound she had inflicted on Moffat’s right hand. In spite of all the fighting he had done that day, Royce was not wounded, and Allie prayed that gave him the advantage.

The men withdrew and attacked again, each using two swords now. As they did so, Allie darted past them and seized the dagger. She was going to stick it right into Moffat's heart the next chance she got.

Royce and Moffat were braced swords against swords once more, pitting holy strength against demonic power.

Allie estimated she was but two steps away from her target. She needed an opening....

"No!” Royce said sharply.

And although Royce didn’t look at her as he spoke, Moffat used his short sword, dropping his hand then raising it savagely, clearly going for Royce's jugular.

For one horrific instant, Allie thought Moffat would slit Royce throat. But Royce brought his short sword up in the nick of time and as the blades rang, Allie leapt at Moffat.

Returned, trying to strike his longs word at her to deflect her dagger, but he was caught on Royce's longer blade and Allie slipped underneath.

Instead of penetrating his chest, she stabbed him deeply in the side, burying the entire blade there up to the hilt. Moffat turned white, dropping his weapons.

He looked at her, his eyes red with rage and hatred, a terrible promise there, and he vanished.

"Damn it," Royce cried in frustration.

Allie sagged against the wall. She could barely believe what she had done—she had almost caused Royce's death again!

He sheathed his swords and took her by the arms.

Instantly she became aware of his power, his rage and his heat. She stiffened with tension, her gaze shooting to his.

His silver eyes blazed with savage bloodlust. But he said. "Are ye hurt?"

"No. Are you?"

"Nay." He wet his lips, looked at her mouth and Allie felt the blood rushing through his veins. She felt the huge pounding pulse in his loins. She felt his murderous rage change, becoming pure, primitive male lust.

He turned abruptly to assess the battle, his jaw hard and flexed. Allie followed his gaze—the giants were fleeing, although a number of Masters and giants remained engaged, both on the ramparts and below in the ward. Their master, Moffat, was undoubtedly calling them off.