DarykHunter (10 page)

For a moment she panicked, uncertain how she came to be a prisoner. Uncertain of her name. Then she remembered and panic surged higher.

I’m Ketera. Ketera Aldrancos.

Magon, she’d made a mess of things leaving the tavern even for a moment. Movement to her left made her flinch. She realized a shadow in a chair near the door wasn’t a shadow at all, but the bulk of a man in a cloak. Her heartbeat thumped loudly in her ears.

“There you are, girly.”

The tall man threw off his cloak and it fell on the floor. Now that he’d taken off the cloak, she could see the breastplate over his black tunic. The marks looked similar to the pirate slaver who’d tried to snatch her off the beach. His tunic was long enough to reach to his knees. Black boots similar to Dane’s reached to his mid-calves. His black hair was tied back in a dark, thin queue, his hairline receding. The man’s face matched his muscles. Everything seemed to bulge. His big nose, his ears.

He stood, revealing a muscle-bound frame. He walked toward her. “Welcome to my abode, my dear.”

She tried to talk, but her throat was so dry it came out as a croak. “Let me go.”

He laughed, a booming sound. “Right, my dear. Let you go? Why would I take you just to release you?”

“Because my mate will come for me. And I guarantee he’ll be furious.”

She said the words with conviction, half sure that Dane might not look for her. Perhaps he was even happy to be rid of her. Even as she hoped he might consider looking for her, how would he ever find her?

No. She needed to get herself out of this mess. She tested the bonds on her wrists and ankles. Not as tight as she’d expect. The ropes kept her firmly in place though, and getting free wouldn’t be easy.

The man sat on the right side of the bed. “What’s your name, little girl?”

“Ketera Aldrancos.”

“And this mate who will come for you? Give me his name, so I will know his kind before I kill him.”

Fear rose inside her like a wave. Though Dane was a large man, this guy was equally as big, perhaps larger. “Never fear. I am powerless to hurt him. Until he tries to rescue you.”

She squirmed inside. Could this man hurt Dane? She doubted it. “My mate slayed a dragon outside Grimnald Castle. I doubt you could do as well.”

“Ah. I heard of such a man. A man powerful enough to slay a dragon must be a Daryk One. Tell me his name or I shall have a taste of you before I sell you.”

Fear spiked, but she forced it back. “Sell me? You’re a slave trader.”

“Exactly. Now tell me his name.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Tell me.” Anger filled his voice as he leaned toward her.

Bulbous and ugly, his nose seemed huge. His eyes were flaming red, and she shrank back against the bed. By the god Magon. Those eyes.

“Who are you?” she asked, tugging against the bonds.

“Bantu Warrens of the Drakus clan.”

She wanted to scream at the piece of filth. “You snatch women off the streets to sell into slavery?”

“Slaves for sex mainly.” His eyes faded from red to solid black. Black seemed almost more menacing than the uncanny red.

Magon help her. Time to steer the conversation away. “Why are your eyes sometimes red?”

She knew the answer, but maybe if she kept him talking she’d find a way to escape. He leaned over her, his hand touching the bed on the opposite side of her waist. She held her breath.

“You are very strange, young lady. So innocent.”

Innocent? She hated that word, didn’t like that purity was so stained on this continent. “What is wrong with that?”

His big shoulders shrugged. “Nothing. It’s quite unusual. I suppose you’re a virgin.”

She gritted her teeth. “What is it to you?”

His smiled, and his spotted teeth made her stomach roll. “Virgins sell well. I will check to make sure of course.”

With a jolt, she remembered Dane’s fingers inside her and how he’d pressed deep. Dane hadn’t taken her, but perhaps his touch had done the deed. A flush filled her cheeks. “I’m not a virgin anymore. My mate has seen to that.”

His dark, slashing eyebrows went up. “Has he? Still, it is up to me to test all of my women before they are sold.”

Her heart slammed in her chest at the thought of this man taking her virginity, of using her. She couldn’t hold back a shiver.

“Please just let me go and I won’t tell my mate what happened and he won’t kill you.”

He grunted and said nothing. Perhaps she’d continue to play ignorant. Throw the man off guard.

“This Drakus,” she said, determined to make this man think she had no wits at all. “Why is he taking women for slaves?”

Bantu sighed. “You truly are a dimwitted girl, aren’t you?” He scoffed. “Everyone has heard of Drakus. Where have your parents hidden you? In the cupboard? Very well. Drakus wishes to bring peace to our land. To build our world by taking Magonian women and breeding with them.”

Hearing this from a slave trader chilled her blood. Dane’s description of Drakus’ plan felt more real to her. She knew what she had to say. “I’m not Magonian. I cannot help you.”

He leaned over her, breath putrid, smile evil, his eyes glowing red once more. “Maybe you are. Maybe you are not. I don’t give a shite. You’re mine for tonight. If Drakus wants you after that, so be it. I can always find another wench, Magonian or Dragonian.”

She couldn’t help her reaction as she practically hissed at him. “That will never happen because my mate is going to come for me.”

Oh god, if he only would. Did he think she’d run away? Would he just assume she had and not think to look for her?

He laughed, and once more his laugh echoed in the chamber. “Tell me who your mate is.”

She was tired of playing with Bantu. “Dane Charger.”

Bantu’s eyes widened, but she saw no fear with their dark depths. “A formidable foe. But not unbeatable. You shouldn’t feel so much confidence in him, little girl.” He scratched his stubbled chin. “Then again, a Daryk One’s mate is precious to him. He won’t be able to resist the need for you.”

She doubted his assertion—after all, Dane saw her as property to seduce. To trifle with. Emotions ran deep within him. She’d seen that.

She decided to switch tactics. “Draconus cannot find what you do admirable. Are you not worried about repercussions from the god?”

He laughed again. “You jest, little lady. I don’t believe in Draconus. Few people in Dragonia do. Are you religious?”

She almost said no. “Yes. Very.”

He stared at her, eyes narrowed, and sudden fear threatened to overcome her bravado. He smiled. “Dane Charger. Do you know his past, Ketera?”

She swallowed. “Of course.”

He grunted then left the bed. He crossed to the window, separating the thick curtain to look outside. “Tell me his past.”

She drew in a slow, tortured breath. “Why?”

“Where was he born?”

“He didn’t tell me.” Lying was coming very easily to her now.

“Who is his family?”

“What?”

“Drakus’ father kidnapped a woman from Magonia who had a child by him. That child turned out to be Drakus. That same woman escaped Drakus’ father and was rescued by Dane’s father.”

She swallowed hard. “And?”

Bantu turned back to her. “Dane and Drakus are half brothers.”

Shocked, she wondered if Dane already knew this.

He returned to the bed, his eyes glittering. “Enough of this other talk! A good fuck is a good fuck.”

Repelled by his rough talk, she wanted to turn the talk away from coupling but couldn’t think of another subject. “You Dragonians think of nothing but…” She could say it if she tried. “Fucking.”

He laughed, throwing his head back with mirth. “The god! You are a strange woman. It’s a wonder Charger has the least interest in you. He’s always liked lusty, bawdy women.”

Hot fury spread inside her, a feeling that overwhelmed common sense. She didn’t want to think about Dane in another woman’s arms. Having relations with her…fucking, as it was called. No, she didn’t like that at all.

“Now that I know you’re Charger’s woman, I will deliver you to Drakus. He’ll take great pleasure in breaking in Dane Charger’s woman.”

Defiance burned in her gut. “Why?”

Bantu’s grin, dirty teeth and all, sent revulsion curling in her stomach. “Because he has special business with the man.”

Before she could retort, the hut door burst open and banged against the wall.

Chapter Six

Ketera flinched as two large men leapt through the door. Bantu drew a dagger from his waist and jumped onto the bed. He held a blade to her throat. She gasped in genuine surprise and fear. Her terror changed into stark relief.

Dane had come for her.

Dane stood a few feet in the doorway, his gaze feral red, anger clear in the set of his mouth. Instead of using his dagger, he’d drawn his sword. The same one he’d used to kill the dragon. Behind him stood a man almost as tall as Dane, eyes equally red, the handsome lines of his face grim and assuring that he’d come to wreak havoc. He wore a sleeveless vest decorated with silver metal motifs depicting savage beasts she’d never seen. He wore belted brown leather trousers that hugged his body with enough love to hint at powerful thighs and calves. The man’s body bunched with lethal tension. She tore her attention away from him to Dane.

Dane caught her gaze in his, and for a few seconds the fire left his eyes. Aggression vanished and reassuring warmth replaced it. For a few seconds she felt safe despite the fact Bantu had her tied to a bed and a knife at her throat.

Dane’s eyes blazed red again, and he practically growled the words, “Get away from her. Now.”

“Best do what he says,” Dane’s companion said with a rumbling deep voice that held hints of smoke and sinful nights. “You don’t want to cross him, and I’m afraid you’re already in bad shape. Charger is the most vicious bastard I know.” He shoved one hand through thick, wavy black hair that fell to just the top of his shoulders. His nonchalance took her off guard. “Charger is deadly.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Dane said with a sneer. “Rayder Tyrus is far more dangerous.”

Bantu snickered. “Rayder Tyrus. I’ve heard of you. Big, bad Daryk One who became a slave trader.”

Slave trader? Dane was with a slave trader?

The man called Rayder scrubbed at his stubbled jawline. It looked as if he hadn’t shaved for days, but it only made him more handsome.

“I’ll take her off your hands,” Rayder said to Bantu.”

When Dane didn’t protest, a chill spread all up and down Ketera’s body. Uncertainty turned her stomach. Then she saw the quick smile that passed between Dane and Rayder. Perhaps Rayder and Dane were playing at being enemies? She could only hope so.

“I ain’t giving her up to anyone.” Bantu’s sneering answer growled over her head. “She’s mine until I turn her over to Drakus.”

“You will not survive that long.” Rayder’s voice became deeper, a hint of anger around the calmness.

“I’d rather see you fight for her,” Bantu said. “Whoever survives will fight me for her. The winner takes the spoils.”

By the god, they are fighting over me as if I were a piece of meat.

“Best you let her go, mate,” Dane’s companion-at-arms said. “My friend has a bloodlust upon him.”

Bantu laughed. “It will make the fight all the more sweet.”

Dane shifted, and Bantu brought the knife nearer to her throat. Ketera gulped in a breath as Bantu pressed closer. “Stay back or I’ll cut her.”

“You know what we can do to you, man.” Dane’s voice held pure poison, as gravely as rocks rolling together. “You work for a Daryk One. You’ve seen his worst.”

Bantu grunted. “What of it? She’s mine now.”

“I want her back. And neither of you will touch her.” Dane’s hushed voice defied either man to take ownership of her.

A strange relief passed over Ketera. Dane did care. He would get her out of this jam. At the same time, part of her chafed at the idea she hadn’t thought of a way to escape this mess herself.

Rayder turned to Dane, his casualness cut in half by that red eye glow. “Fight me for her.”

Oh my Magon.

Dane glared at Rayder, body tight, muscle tension obvious. To Ketera’s amazed eyes, they took their attention off Bantu.

“Are you insane?” Dane asked his so-called friend.

Low laughter echoed from Rayder’s throat. “Some say so.”

“Bloody well get on with it,” Bantu said.

With a swiftness that made her mind spin, Dane and Rayder broke into battle. Swords clashed, the harsh clang ringing in her ears. Bantu’s laughter echoed. She flinched, squirming as she twisted in her bonds. The knife at her throat scratched her, and she cried out at the slight pain. Bantu drew the knife back from her neck, intent on the battle. The rope around her left ankle loosened. Yes! Perhaps if she just worked at it harder…

The Daryk Ones twisted, moved with a speed she’d noted while watching Dane kill the dragon back at Grimnald Castle. She’d never seen a man move so quickly on Magonia and wondered what magic worked upon these warriors.

Sweat beaded on their foreheads, muscles bulging as they shifted on their feet. Fear rose so high in her she thought she might strangle. She glanced at Bantu. He wasn’t paying the least attention to her, an eager smile on his face. An erection pressed against his trousers. Her stomach roiled.

Anger made her wrench at her ties and suddenly her feet were free. Bantu jumped and pinned her to the bed. She screamed, the sound more a yell of defiance than fear. She kicked out, caught him straight in the balls with her foot. Bantu screamed, fell off the bed and writhed. Satisfaction blended with her fear.

“Take that you…you—!” She didn’t know any really excellent curses, so she added one she’d used before. “Bastard!”

Dane and Rayder’s blades came together. A grunt came from the both of them as they surged toward the bed. Her eyes widened. Both men turned toward Bantu. Dane sprang forward, his motion a blur. A second later Bantu yelled as the sword found its mark into his chest. A growl issued from Dane’s throat.

“Bastard of a dillianas!” Dane stood over Bantu with a look so hateful that Ketera almost cringed.

“Dillianas?” Her voice rasped in her own ears.