Dreams of a Dark Warrior (38 page)

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Authors: Kresley Cole

BOOK: Dreams of a Dark Warrior
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One wing and its engine separated, exploding into a bal of fire that rocked the night. The blast pitched

the cockpit and remaining wing end over end until it crashed into the side of the cliff.

Lothaire hurried toward it. If Chase lived, Lothaire could drink him, harvesting al of the magister’s

memories.

At the thought, his fangs dripped in his mouth.
Such hunger …
He’d have to take care not to drain the man down.

When he approached the mangled cockpit, the scent of aviation fuel swept over him; the remaining

engine sparked and flamed in the hissing rain.

Just a matter of time before it too exploded.

He found that Chase lived. Barely. Blood streamed down his face from a gash at his temple, whetting

Lothaire’s appetite even more. The plane’s frame had col apsed around his lower body, metal

indentations trapping his legs inside.

As Lothaire impassively watched, Chase gripped his legs behind the knees and yanked, but he was

pinned tight—

Those winged demons descended al around the crash site like vultures.

Some of demonkind, such as these from the Volar demonarchy, believed Lothaire was the devil

himself, born to lead al demons back to hel . Natural y, he’d fostered this rumor. Now Lothaire bared his fangs. “I said
gently
.”

One muttered, “He unexpectedly made the craft dive.”

“Be—gone.” With fear in their eyes, they took off at once, great black wings swooping, fanning the

flames.

Lothaire dropped to his knee beside Chase. “Where’s my ring?”

“Fuck off, leech!” He brandished his sword from a sheath at his side.

Before Chase could strike, Lothaire fisted his wrist, wresting the sword free. “I recognize this blade.

You stabbed me with it, twisting it inside me.” Lothaire pul ed the scabbard free, then donned his new

sword. “For sentimental value. Something to remember you by.”

Next he seized the magister’s hand. “And now to be rid of this col ar.” Though the man resisted,

Lothaire tore off his glove.

More scars?
Raised marks covered the back of Chase’s hand.

With a shrug, Lothaire flattened the pad of the man’s thumb against the torque’s lock. “Once I’m free,

we’re going to find out exactly how much pain you can endure while remaining conscious. I won’t stop until you tel me where my ring is.” He leaned in to say at his ear, “I’l be sure to make you feel your
loss
.”

Chase sneered, “My print won’t work.”

Lothaire pressed his thumb on the pad again. “You lie.” He snatched off Chase’s remaining glove to

test his other print. Nothing.

“If you want your torque removed, go find Fegley. Tel him I sent you.”

“Didn’t you hear? The warden is dead. Emberine burned the man alive.” After his hand had been

removed to use as a key. But the
suka
wouldn’t bargain for it, had threatened to incinerate it if Lothaire neared her.

So I’m still trapped
. “Then you remain of use to me, Chase. You know of another way off this island.”

“Of course I do.”

“You
will
share it. But must I dismember you first?” Once Lothaire drank Chase, he’d garner knowledge of any potential escape to be had. But those stolen memories were difficult to access at wil , no matter

how hard he’d trained to do just that.

Most of the time the memories came in the form of dreams.
How much sleeping will I be doing until I

escape? Until I seize
her?

The magister’s body twisted as the flames began to lick closer to his legs. As if he could see his

female, Chase stretched one arm out, reaching in her direction. His eyes glowed with fear—but clearly

not for himself.

He would be particularly keen to bargain. “I
do
hope your female’s faring better than you. If she

survived the crash, she could be at the mercy of those winged demons. Lusty devils. They won’t kil her;

they’l keep her as a concubine. For centuries. They’l breed on her as wel , of course.”

Chase yel ed, thrashing against the metal.

“You want to get to her more than anything,” Lothaire murmured. “You want it so badly, you’re

dumbfounded that you can’t get free.”

Another violent thrash.

“Now you understand what it’s like to be kept from your female when she is in danger. To have some

enemy gloating, while you are trapped and powerless, unable to defend her. But what if I pul ed you free

and you were able to go to her?”

“Do it! Free me!”

“You’d have to cede things in return. You stole my property, jailed me for weeks, starved and tortured

me. So many debts to pay. The scales between us tip so heavily against you, I probably should just kil

you.”

“You want to deal? Then do it!”

“My ring. I must have it.”

“It was taken off the island tonight. I don’t know where.”


Blyad’!
Then what else do you have? What wil clear the slate between us?”

“The Order wil strike this instal ation within six days,” Chase grated. “But there’s a boat a few days

from here. I vow to lead you to it, if you free me now.”

A few days?
Cutting it so close.

Lothaire would require blood in the interim. Normal y he fed only every week or so, but he was stil

regenerating. And he’d need al the power he could steal to compensate for this torque.

“I’l al ow this to cancel out my stolen property and to pay for jailing me for weeks. You wil be my guide

—and my prisoner.” He examined his black claws. “Next?”

“What?”

“To pay for starving and torturing me. What could possibly be recompense for that?”

Chase’s eyes darted. “I don’t … know. Damn it, pul me free so I can think!”

“I can’t stand to see al this good blood going to waste, seared to nothing.”

The magister’s face paled even more. “The fuck you’l be drinkin’ me!”

“When you tortured me, I told you I’d make you pay in ways you couldn’t imagine.”

As ever, I was right.
Lothaire almost sighed.
The world is so tediously predictable.
Speaking over Chase’s furious railings, Lothaire said, “Until we escape, I want you to
yield
your blood to me.”

Submitting to my bite.
Nothing would humiliate a man like Chase more, nothing could bring him so low.

Though Lothaire was calculating—choosing to serve the Endgame, rather than his emotions—he
was
a

vindictive son of a bitch.

***

“Never.”
The scent of flames and volatile aviation fuel oozed over Declan. “Just free me!” The nearing fire, the
frustration
. He was going to burn to death without reaching Regin. And if he died, who would get her off this island before the Order retaliated?

The vampire said, “Someone wil pay for the damage you did. Perhaps your woman? Yes, I should go

pierce her bright flesh. If she lives yet.”

“Don’t you
fuckin’ dare.

“Poor Regin. She could be bleeding out, or about to burn like you. Ah, she looked so weak, too. She

could actual y perish.” He tsked. “A legendary being like that, her life force extinguished forever. Because you wouldn’t surrender mere drops of your blood. And possibly a memory or two.”

“No, no!”

Lothaire rose. “Her blood wil be sublime.”

“Don’t touch her!”
Touch what’s mine, and I’ll punish you.

Lothaire knelt once more. “I want al the blood I can drink from you, Magister. Whenever and
however
I choose to drink it until we leave this island.”

However?
Declan didn’t understand, couldn’t think. The metal frame of the plane was heating al around him, searing his skin. He would give his life to save hers, but surrendering his blood to a detrus … ?

To have another one of these creatures feeding from his body?

“Never mind. I’l return with her head, so the two of you can fry together.” Lothaire turned once more.

“I vow it.” Declan bit back a yel as pain racked him. “Now free me!”

“Very wel .” After several tries, the vampire hauled him loose in a rush. As Declan labored just to rise

up on his battered knees, Lothaire snatched free two seat belts, using them to tie Declan’s hands behind

his back.

“What the hel is this, vampire?”

Lothaire shoved one hand against the side of his face and clamped the other over his shoulder.


No!
What the fuck are you doing?”

“Exacting, no,
accepting
a payment from you. I promised you that you’d know when I wanted to drink you. Because my fangs would be shoved deep in your neck.” The vampire dipped down, murmuring,

“They’re about to be. And with your invitation.”

Declan flailed, roaring with fury.
Another detrus feeding on me! Another one touching my skin!

“It can be quite enjoyable if you relax.”

But no matter how hard Declan struggled, he couldn’t get free. He felt the vampire’s breath against his

neck right before the bastard pierced him. There wasn’t the pain he’d expected, just a disgusting ful ness.

The rage, the unspeakable humiliation . . .

Lothaire drew deep, his tongue working as he lapped and sucked. When the vampire groaned, Declan

shuddered with revulsion, dizziness washing over him with each greedy pul from his neck.

Final y the vampire released him with another groan, sitting back on his haunches. “Your blood is

steeped
in power.” Running his tongue over a fang, he said, “Among other things. I believe I might be high. But I
like
it.”

“You wanted my memories, leech? They’re al yours.” Al the torture, misery, hate. Declan gave a

crazed laugh. “You’l fuckin’ choke on them!”

THIRTY-SEVEN

T
he magister’s blood was delicious and drugged. Yet what a bitter aftertaste!

No matter. Lothaire couldn’t remember the last time he’d tasted blood so powerful. His skin began

regenerating in a rush, strength fil ing him.

Out of his countless victims only a handful had ever fueled him as Chase had.

Berserkers. Those rare creatures. Who knew?

If he could have blood like this
and
lose the torque …

“You filthy parasite—I wil kil you for this!” Chase’s muscles began to swel , his eyes glowing, but he’d probably burned through his berserkrage surviving that plane crash.

“Admit it, Magister, you liked it a little.” Lothaire hauled him to his feet.

“One day I’l cut off your fuckin’ head.”

“Words hurt, Chase.”

The man opened his mouth to say more, then gritted his teeth. “This isn’t finished.” Through the pouring

rain, he lumbered in the Valkyrie’s direction, fol owing the swath of the plane’s landing.

Lothaire trailed him, keeping a keen eye on his new investment and blood supply. When they reached

the other half of the plane, the berserker, the fey, and Thaddeus had just crawled from the wreckage.

The fey’s cheek was gouged open. Thaddeus appeared unscathed, sounding out some primitive

Texan-esque whoop, then yel ing to the sky, “We freaking
lived
!”

Brandr had an unconscious Regin cradled in his arms. One of his eyes was swol en shut and blood

trickled from his nose. But Regin looked no worse than before the crash.

When Chase sagged in relief, Lothaire yanked him upright.

The man’s scarred hands clenched and unclenched behind him as he so clearly longed to have her in

his possession.

Lothaire drawled at his ear, “You want her so badly? Perhaps you oughtn’t have had your lackeys

mutilate her. Just a thought.”

Natalya reached for her charge thrower. “What is the leech doing here? Again?” But her weapon had

been damaged.

“Chase is my prisoner, and the Valkyrie goes with us.”

Brandr nodded slowly. “You
are
as crazy as they say.”

To keep his bargain with Chase, Lothaire would have to defeat these three and take the Valkyrie.

Or I can use them.
Lothaire assessed them one by one. A ragtag army.

The fey had skil s, the berserker would be an extra sword. Thaddeus’s hidden strength could come in

handy. Currently, the lad was dragging an overstuffed backpack out of the tail of the plane. Seemed he

was smart enough to provision himself.

“Chase is leading me off the island,” Lothaire said. “He knows of an alternate means of escape. We

could include you. For a price.”

Natalya rol ed her eyes. “What now?”

“Al egiance to me, until we depart this place. You’d vow no malice against me.”

Brandr shook his head. “That thing, that La Dorada, wil be coming for you. Unless you kil ed her?”

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