Darkness Captured (5 page)

“Touch the frame of the mirror. A lot will be explained.”

Guntram stalked toward the mirror, lifted one hand, and pressed his fingertips to the frame. The surface of the glass reflecting his own image shimmered, lightened, and then settled again, offering a view into an orgy of bloodlust and sexual frenzy.

Guntram’s chest stilled and his gaze skimmed the room.

“She touched the glass,” Alex said softly, urgently, beside him. “Had to, for it to have happened.”

“It’s a portal, then? Into hell.”

“Into the Land of the Dead. Hell, I guess.”

“She’s not there. Is she already dead?”

“That she isn’t anywhere in sight is a hopeful sign.”

Guntram swallowed down the deep emotions that tasted like metal in his mouth. “How do we save her?”

“Simon, my mage, has a plan.”

Guntram found it nearly impossible to look away from the awful carnage. But he dropped his hand and spun on his heels, his hand coming up to grip Alex’s throat and lift him off the floor, the tip of his dagger pressing between the vampire’s ribs. “You’re responsible,” he said between clenched teeth. “Don’t think, because you hold my men and we’re only a small force, that our kind won’t seek vengeance.”

Alex lifted his hands. “The last thing I want is trouble with the Wolfen,” he said, his voice strained. “You have my word we’ll do everything we can to get her back. She’s my friend.”

“She tried to kill you.”

“Long ago, yes. But I know she regretted it. I hold no grudge against her. I didn’t intend this.”

Guntram lowered the knife and dropped Alex on his feet.

Alex raised the crystal. “Have you seen enough?”

Guntram nodded.

Before his eyes could adjust to the dim light inside the council chamber, something hard slammed into Guntram’s side, taking him to the ground. A boot crushed the hand holding the dagger—Alex’s. Nicolas had him pinned.

Guntram had the advantage of weight and would have liked nothing better than to take out his rage and frustration on them both, but he lay slack until Nicolas gave his shoulders a shove and climbed off him.

Guntram rose, brushing off his clothing—nothing but an act, because he was already covered with a thin layer of mud. When his gaze met Alex’s again, he let him see his fury. “What is this plan you have?”

The older man stepped forward. “What we seek to do may be impossible. While demons have punched through to enter our realm from time to time, no one from this realm has entered the Land of the Dead and returned. Not without negotiating a trade. One soul for the soul you would save.”

“I would take her place,” Guntram said quickly.

“And then your kind would still have cause to war with us,” Alex said, sounding impatient. “I would attempt to enter in secrecy, find her, and slip back. It hasn’t been done before. But we were fortunate to obtain a device, something sorcerers use to cross between the realms. We sent Inanna and the demon known as the Devourer to the Land using that device.”

“I will take my men.”

Alex shook his head. “No, we don’t want to leave a large signature. Two of us will go.”

Guntram’s jaw tightened. “I’ll be one of them.”

The mage cleared his throat, drawing their gazes. “And I will accompany you.”

Alex swung toward the mage. “It should be me,” he said heatedly.

Simon shook his head, a small, sad smile easing his expression. “You have work to do here. You’re too important to risk.”

“Then it should be me,” Nicolas said, stepping closer.

“You’d desert Chessa when she’s about to give birth?” Again, Simon shook his head. “I’ve known this was coming. I’m prepared.”

“You’ve done this before. Lived this before?” Alex asked.

Guntram scowled, not following the conversation and wondering if they were speaking in some kind of code.

Simon nodded. “I’ve lived this before.”

“And how does it end?” Alex said, his eyes glittering.

“In death. But I have hopes that this time, I will find a way to prevail.”

Alex gave a violent shake of his head. “No. Someone else will go.”

Simon gripped Alex’s shoulders and stared into his taut face.

Guntram nearly snorted, wondering if the two were going to kiss.

“We have a few hours to make arrangements,” Simon said.

“To settle your affairs you mean,” Alex said bitterly.

Simon let his hands drop and turned to Guntram. “Go to your men. You’ll have access to the house, the dining hall, baths. Don’t try to enter the gardens or make a run for the gates. You can tell them everything. We have nothing to hide.”

“Madeleine?” Alex said softly behind Simon. “She’s not going to understand.”

Simon didn’t turn. His gaze held Guntram’s as he spoke. “I have letters written, and something I will ask of you. For now, I would watch her fly.”

Guntram waited until the mage had left, then turned to Nicolas. “I’ll need weapons.”

Nicolas snorted. “I’ll take you to the arsenal, but I don’t know what you’ll find effective against demons.”

“A sword,” Alex said, sounding distracted. His gaze was still on the door where Simon had disappeared. “Decapitation works best.”

Guntram smiled, steel and muscle—his favorite sort of fight.

As Gabriella drew closer to the Master, she slowed, surprised because the vegetation inside the pool was thicker than she’d first thought. His fingers curled again and she took a deep breath, descending the tiled steps and settling her hand inside his.

His palm was hot, the surface hard. He helped her into the water, and her feet met a soft, sandy bottom. The water was warm, but no warmer than a natural pool. She lifted her gaze, feeling suddenly shy now that she stood so close and by her own choice.

His expression didn’t invite, didn’t give a hint at his pleasure that she’d obeyed. Instead, he watched as though waiting for something, wanting to see the expressions slide across her face.

The thought that he waited for something had only crossed her mind when she felt something slither around one ankle.

Gabriella gasped and tried to jerk back her foot, but the thing beneath the water wrapped around her, anchoring her there. She shot him a glance filled with alarm. “Do something!”

A smile pulled at one corner of his mouth, but he didn’t move. He let go of her hand.

She pulled her foot again, and whatever surrounded it constricted. Then another thin tendril shot upward, sliding around her calf and wrapping around her knee. She peered into the water and caught sight of a dark green vine, the end shaped like a leaf, but thicker and rasping against her skin like a tongue. As she peered down, another vine shot out of the pale sand beneath her feet, and then another; winding quickly around her ankle as they tugged her legs apart.

The demon laughed softly as her arms flailed to grasp his shoulders in panic. His arms closed around her, and he laid her back on the uppermost step.

She let go of him and set her hands on the edge of a step, gasping for breath. At the sight of his mouth, one corner curling, rage shot through her. “Bastard, make them let go.” Vines sprang from the water and twined around her wrists, drawing her arms wide. Now she was spread-eagled, lying across the steps, her body—her sex—exposed. She expected him to gloat.

Instead, his head fell back suddenly, and a long groan tore from his mouth.

She glanced down to find vines entwining beneath the water, one wrapped around his cock, another encircling and laving his balls.

But he didn’t look concerned, merely orgasmic.

His heavy-lidded gaze lowered to hers, and she took his cue, relaxing against the tiles beneath her and letting the vines prying her apart do their work.

As soon as she surrendered, the tension eased, and the vines surged between her legs, tickling her inner thighs, stroking between her buttocks, at last sliding along her folds. “Sweet Jesus,” she gasped.

A dark brow rose.

And she laughed, beginning a slow rise toward ecstasy. “Guess he has no place here.”

He muttered something, and the vines ringing his sex loosened. He strode toward her, lowering himself to a knee on the step just beneath her. When his hands settled to either side of her body and he hovered over her, she lifted her head and nuzzled her cheek alongside his; letting him know she was eager for this, burning for it.

Vines continued to wrap around her body, cushioning her back, sliding around her sides to loop around her breasts and plump them up. He tapped a nipple with a fingertip and a slender vine inched toward it, surrounding the distended tip and tightening deliciously. Then he lowered his head and tongued the end that peeked from the center of the tight ring.

Gabriella’s whole body quaked. Spread as though she’d been tied to a rack, something she’d experienced a time or two, she prayed for him to discern the excitement building inside her.

His head reared back, canting, staring into her eyes, and then a small, wicked smile stretched his lush lips. Vines exploded from the water, shooting upward, and he leaned away. One vine quivered, then descended, lashing her belly, her inner thighs, with just enough speed and strength to sting but leave only reddened skin—not a welt.

Gabriella cried out, her hands straining against their bonds, her belly beginning to dance with electric quivers as creamy pleasure filled her channel and trickled down her inner thighs to float away in the pool.

The lashes continued. Tongues tightening, hardening, flicking at her flesh, never the same spot. The leaves twisted, knotted, then lashed at her like the strokes of a cat-o’-ninetails. Gabriella gasped, her body releasing endorphins that sent her into a haze of euphoria. Her fists curled; her head tilted back.

Then she felt a fingertip slide from between her breasts down her belly to her mound, tracing through her thatch. The leafy tongues followed and slipped between her folds, pressing them apart to tap her clit.

She was close to exploding, sliding deeper into an orgasm so strong and fierce that she rebelled. “No!”

Her eyes slammed open, caught his heavy-lidded glance, and she knew he had no intention of retreating.

A vine lifted in the air above her, coiling around and around, the end whipping like a whirligig, then stretching into an oblong shape. Her breath caught as it dove between her legs, sliding between her folds and pushing deep into her body.

Afraid for a moment, she held her breath, trying to close her legs against the invasion, but the bundle of twisting vines inside her pulsated. The leafy tongues caressed her inner walls, twisting tight and then expanding, then repeating the motion over and over until her belly undulated, and her eyes slid shut.

Whipping vines tapped her breasts, her abdomen, her thighs, stung her lips and nipples, striking without pattern but warming her skin an inch at a time, until the heat inside her curled around her womb, became too much—and not enough.

Her eyes shot open, begging him silently to end it. At a single wave of his hand, all the vines, save the ones cushioning her body and wrapped around her ankles and wrists, slipped back beneath the water.

Gabriella drew short, shattered breaths, staring as he came over her, his hands plunging beneath her bottom, lifting her. His cock, ringed at the base with a single vine, prodded between her slick folds and then sank inside, pressing upward until he was fully lodged inside her.

With all her walls breached, decimated by the frightful, sensual torture, she shivered, silently welcoming his invasion. However, his cock—hot, thick, and pulsing inside her—remained still. She raised her head and bit his shoulder, clamping down to hold him.

Soft, pleased laughter shook his chest, and he began to move—nothing tentative or exploring about his strokes. His cock drove deep and hard, thrusting with precision and strength, her inner walls stretching so suddenly that she felt the burning pinch.
Perfect.

Her orgasm exploded, arching her back, shuddering through her splayed limbs. If she’d been free she would have writhed in anguished ecstasy. Instead, all she could manage were shattered groans against his skin. Her teeth gnashed, drawing blood, and he punished her for the injury, hammering harder, driving her breath from her lungs until she grew lightheaded and released him. Her head landed on a tiled step as she lingered in the lush aftermath, her body lolling on the tide of his own exploding pleasure, drifting toward darkness …

She awoke and found herself lying on his chest as he rested on a step, her legs spread over his hips, his cock hardening again and still deeply embedded inside her. She raised her head slowly to meet his strange golden eyes.

His hand lifted to her face. Fingers tucked sticky locks of her hair behind her ears. “You will call me ‘Bel’ or ‘Lord’ when others are with us,” he said slowly in a deep, rumbling bass that vibrated through her chest.

Gabriella swallowed and lifted her breasts off his chest. Her nipples tingled and were tight and hot. “So you can speak English.”

His shoulders shrugged. His gaze swept her chest, then slowly met hers again. “If you were from some other place in your world, we would speak another language. You will have no difficulties communicating here.”

“Why didn’t you let me know that before?”

“I didn’t want to hear you beg to be returned.”

The deep rumble of his voice vibrated through her body. Her sex clasped his cock. “Will you?” she said, struggling to keep her tone even when her breaths were quickening again. “Will you return me?”

A muscle flexed along his jaw. “Never.”

And with his sex stirring inside her, she wasn’t all too certain she wanted to leave. At least not yet. This place frightened her, but so did he.
Deliciously so.

CHAPTER
4

A
lex stood at the edge of the training field where stadium lights burned brightly enough for the kestrel to play. He watched from the garden as Simon lifted his arm to send her skyward again.

The relationship between Madeleine and Simon had always been the most poignant he’d ever observed. Simon waited eagerly every month for the full moon, which freed the kestrel, transforming her into the human woman who’d captured his heart long before anyone he knew had been born.