Impending Reprisals (31 page)

Merivic’s mouth curled into a ferial snarl as he placed his hands on her body, groping and fondling her bare form. She had no more scream left in her as the tears streamed down her face and she continued to squirm and thrash. “I will kill you for this,” she croaked out hoarsely.

“By the time you could, it will be too late.” He walked to the end of the table and stroked his palms up her spread legs, roughly grabbing her thighs before releasing her to unbutton his robe.

Malik’s low, droning chant filled the cavern monotonously, but then abruptly cut off in a sickening gurgle.

“No!” Merivic roared as he watched his cleric drop to his knees at Kael’s feet.

Relief flooded Anya as Kael began a slow and steady approach, his swords at the ready as he angled toward the altar. She mustered the strength to tell him what he needed to know. “He did not have me! You can kill him!”

“I misjudged your commitment, Kaelestis.” Merivic sneered as he backhanded Anya across the face. He stepped to the side of the table and raised his dagger high. “But if I cannot have her, no one will!”

“Anya!” Kael called out as he lunged forward, the enchanted amulet falling from his pocket as he did.

Anya, momentarily fighting for consciousness from the brutal hit, jarred awake and screamed again, piercing the air with her cry of helplessness as she watched the blade drop. She squeezed her eyes against the reality of it all, but a vicious roar pulled her back into the present.

Tajvek appeared mid-air and slammed into Merivic, digging his claws into his back and chest as he sunk his canines into the demon’s neck. The two rolled and battled across the ground as Kael raced forward to unchain her.

Shaking and delirious, Anya curled into a ball the moment she was released.

“Anya! Speak to me!”

A roar of protest ripped from Tajvek, drawing Kael’s attention, and he looked on in horror as he saw the cat fading from view. Patting his pockets for the amulet, he twisted around to see Malik dropping his hand in death as a cloud of powder settled over the necklace.

Merivic jumped to his feet and charged Kael, throwing him across the expanse of the cavern. Stunned and bruised, Kael wasted not a measure of time to scramble back up and race forward, weapons drawn.

The first arch of his blade connected solidly with Merivic’s upheld arm, nearly slicing it down to the bone. But the demon only laughed as he allowed Kael to watch with wide eyes as it healed to perfection. It took only a moment for Kael to realize Merivic had barely tried to block his attack on purpose—wanting him to fully witness what he was up against. And that moment of pause was all the demon needed.

From the corner of his eye, Kael saw the fist coming and jerked his head back. He still suffered a glancing blow, and though not as nearly damaging as it could be, it was enough to leave him bloodied and sprawled on the ground. Lifting his head, he saw speckles of light dancing in his vision, but he also saw Anya’s huddled form still curled on the altar, and fury pumped adrenaline through his body as he flew to his feet.

He shot forward again, swinging and thrusting his blades with the precision of a master, scoring strike after brutal strike, but they were all for naught. The demon did not so much as flinch as Kael opened wounds on his arms, legs, and chest, healing as soon as they appeared.

Repeatedly, Kael dodged Merivic’s attacks to implement his own, knowing a single, solid hit could be the end of him. And whereas his opponent seemed not to falter, Kael began to grow weary. 

As he ducked under another lethal swing, a shimmer passed through Merivic, momentarily blurring his physical outline as it traveled the length of his body. Merivic looked distracted for a moment as he backed away a step and Kael, with renewed hope, surged forward and struck his side. An expression of pain and shock twisted Merivic’s features as he flinched for the first time during the fight, and blood seeped freely through his robe.

His immunity was gone.

Kael pressed forward, continuing his assault and seeking the opening needed to deliver the fatal blow as he backed the demon toward the altar. Merivic screeched and howled like an animal, feeling pain for the very first time. Every issuance of his agony only proved to spur Kael on, but he somehow continued to successfully defend against his own death, parrying the steady blows using his arms as a shield.

A flash of metal suddenly caught Kael’s eye, and he tensed as one of the ceremonial daggers plunged into Merivic’s neck from behind. The demon’s surprise was apparent while he tried to grab at the hilt, but he was losing his strength too quickly to be able to dislodge it. As he slumped against the table, and slowly slithered down, Kael saw Anya kneeling on the tabletop behind him.

While Merivic died on the cavern floor, Anya swooned and collapsed against Kael. The feel of his strong limbs swinging her into his arms, and cradling her against his chest, was all she remembered before everything went dark.

Chapter 44

Anya lay in the bed, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight pooling across her face. “I still cannot believe the sun came out.”

“That very morning after he died,” Kael confirmed, caressing her cheek. “Are you sure you are well enough?”

“Kael,” she began, a hint of exasperation in her voice, “you have put it off long enough.”

“You were unconscious for nearly two days. I do not want to push you for more than you are ready to handle.”

“If I was not ready, I would not have asked.”

“Very well. What did you want to know?”

“Everything. Anything. What all happened?”

“I already told you about the demons by the cave.” He looked at her as she nodded her agreement. “Well, when they could not get inside, they turned on the city.”

Her breath caught, and she unconsciously began fidgeting with her amulet.

“Thankfully, no one was killed, but several townspeople were severely wounded. Gerhard, Caleb and Roarke came across the demons on their way to the cave, and ended up following them in to protect the city. They did well, killing several before they disappeared.”

“They just vanished?”

“Caleb said that was when he knew Merivic was dead—that he had been defeated. When he died, the demons’ tie to the mortal world was severed and they were banished back to the lower planes of Hell.”

Anya closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “All right, what else happened?”

“That is all there is to tell. You know the rest. I carried you out, brought you here and have been with you ever since.”

She ran her fingertips across his cheek. “Are you going to let me out of bed today?”

“Are you strong enough?”

“I believe so.”

“Lenna brought you some fresh clothes and I put them over there.” He gestured to the bedside table.

“How is Lenna?” Anya asked as she reached for the clothing.

“She wishes us well, and bid us a safe journey.” Kael placed his hand on Anya’s arm as she flinched from her reach. “Let me get those for you.”

“I am all right, just a little sore, I suppose. I can do this.”

“Call if you need assistance. I will be right outside.”

“I will,” she assured before he left the room.

It was with a great deal of grit and determination that Anya was able to dress herself without moaning aloud from the soreness radiating throughout her body. But she did so as much for herself as for Kael’s peace of mind.

Opening the door, she watched as Kael studied her expression.

“There,” she stated. “I did it.”

Kael smiled and took Anya’s hand, not bothering to comment on the beads of sweat dotting her forehead, the flush of her face, or the grimace of pain she was unable to hide. To do so would only make her act all the more stubborn.

Instead, he led her slowly down the stairs and through the manor, exiting into the courtyard to join Gerhard, Roarke, and Caleb.

“Are you well, Milady?” Caleb asked with genuine concern.

“I am fine. Thank you, again,” —she glanced to the other men—“all of you, for saving me.”

“Oh, but it is I who should be thanking you,” Caleb admitted. “I owe you all a debt of gratitude.”

“Nonsense, Caleb. We could not have stopped him without your guidance,” Kael stated, then looked at Gerhard as he cleared his throat loudly. “Nice and subtle, Gerhard.”

Caleb looked at him, curiously.

“So, Caleb,” Kael began, “speaking of your guidance… We have discussed it at length and have decided that the monarchy should be turned over to you, since there is no one left to claim the throne. No one deserves it more than you do.”

Caleb bowed his head humbly before locking his eyes on Kael’s. “I am afraid I cannot. It is not my place to do so.”

“Of course, you can. You have just saved the city. Stands to reason they would accept any one of us as their leader. However, we have decided unanimously that it be you.”

“I am honored. Truly, I am. But as I said, I cannot. I must return home now that my mission is complete.”

“Your home is Decessus.”

Caleb shook his head haltingly as he smiled, a ribbon of brilliant light streaming around his form, blinding those standing with him as his body faded into a silhouette. “They sent me to help the mortals defeat Asmodeus. He was once one of us and, therefore, our responsibility. But we did not have the power to stop him. We were bound by the rules of our own doing, and could not outright give you the knowledge you required. You had to ask the right questions, take the appropriate actions, and choose your own fate. Where I merely led you down the path, you struggled, you fought, and you prevailed. You have won this war for us, and we will be forever grateful.” The incandescent form began shrinking in upon itself until it was a pinpoint of light suspended in the air, then sparked into thin air.

They all stood staring in awe to where Caleb had been standing. Kael was the first one to respond with a deep sigh, and then glanced at Anya’s wondrous expression. “Are you ready to go home?”

She turned to him, expression blank, and then she smiled, cuddling into his side. “By the gods, yes.”

He nuzzled the side of her head and kissed her as he slung his arm lightly over her shoulder. Turning toward the carriage on the other end of the courtyard, Kael glanced back at Gerhard and Roarke. “I suppose it is up to you two to take over the monarchy.”

Roarke’s jaw dropped. “Wait—”

Gerhard slapped a hand on his back. “We can figure it out,” he murmured as he watched the couple walk away.

“Let us go home, my tenacious love.” Kael glanced down at Anya to catch a flash of her glare. “My fiery woman? My little spitfire? My exotic beauty?”

Her glare flickered into a smirk after she could hold it back no longer, and she pointed a slender finger at him. “Watch yourself, Kael. You are testing my patience.”

He chuckled lightly as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “And I always will.”

#   #   #

Now Available…

CONNECTED

a Twists of Fate novella (Book 1)

A rock group’s rhythm guitarist, Rhys Alexander, dies and finds himself bound inside the body of a woman he’s never met. Can she help him move on to the other side, or will he end up finding the love of his life…after his has already ended?

Excerpt:

After a few minutes of digging through her closet, Addison came up with two black dresses. She wanted something simplistic to fit her style, but elegant. Something not too revealing, but feminine; something that would make a man drool but leave enough to the imagination to have him wondering what was hidden underneath.

What are you doing?

“I’m trying to decide which dress to wear.” She chewed on her fingernail as her eyes shifted from one dress to the other.

Wear the one on the right.

Her eyebrows shot up. “You can see them?”

Hell, no. But your inability to make a fucking decision is raking at my nerves.

“So you just picked one at random?”

It’s a decision, isn’t it? It’s not like you’re any closer to one.

She lifted a shoulder in semi-agreement as she eyed the wraparound number on the right.

Worked for her.

She shoved the reject dress back into the closet before she went to dry her hair and throw on some make-up.

Rhys was surprisingly quiet throughout, and then she realized he had closed off their link. Why? She had no idea, but at this point it hardly concerned her. She was just thankful for the quiet.

After fluffing her blonde locks and putting on her face, Addison shrugged out of her robe. She took her time as she picked out some frilly panties and bra—because you just never know—and then wiggled into the dress.

“Oh, boy,” she mumbled, studying herself in the mirror. The dress didn’t leave as much to the imagination as she had hoped. She couldn’t go out like this, could she?

A sly smile crept to her face. Well, maybe…

What’s up, sweetheart?

Aaand the cocky attitude was back.

“Just checking things out. This dress is a bit…revealing. I’m not used to it.”

He chuckled.
What?
he
teased
. Can you actually see your knees?

She pulled at the fabric wrapped tight around her chest as her ample breasts kept trying to pop out and say ‘hello,’ and then she tugged fruitlessly at the hem.

“It shows a lot more than that,” she muttered, rethinking if she could leave the house that way or not. After all, it
was
only a third date, and on top of that, she never truly intended to ever wear that dress; it was a impulse purchase on a day she had felt a helluva lot braver than she did just then.

Jesus, it can’t be that bad. Hell, if any damn flesh is showing, you’d consider it to be too revealing.

“I would not.” Though she probably would.

Don’t get all offended and shit. You showed me your picture, remember? Very proper, very conservative, very non-revealing. I know your type.

“My type. Is that so?” She propped her hands on her hips, her contempt pushing her to prove the stereotyping asshat wrong. “Would you like to see for yourself? Then you can enlighten me with your vast knowledge as to how this dress is too conservative, and fits my type perfectly.”

Snorting a laugh, he encouraged her further.
I would love to see your oh-too-sexy dress, sweetheart. Lay it on me. I’ll try to contain myself.

Striking a ridiculously sassy pose that had her giggling, she projected her image from the mirror.

He made a choking sound, and she felt his entire being seize up.

Frustrated, she shut down the image. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

For crissakes, woman, you’re fucking hot in real life! What the hell happened to the prim-and-fucking-proper-working-class girl?!

Suddenly feeling very confident, she tipped her head to the side and studied her image again, being sure Rhys saw it as well.

“I let my hair down, which I’m known to do when I go out. I put in my contacts, which I also do from time-to-time. And I put this on,” she ran her hands down her dress, caressing every curve. “Which, I might add, you picked out. I think you made the right choice, don’t you?” She turned in the mirror, glancing over her shoulder to show the ‘v’ of bare skin slashing down the back.

Addison, baby, you’re killing me. Of all the damn luck; to be stuck in the head of some searing hot babe.
He groaned as if in real pain.

She laughed at his dramatics, and closed off the image. “What does it matter what I look like? I’m still
me
. The irritating
woman
you fight with constantly.”

Yeah, but before I was getting a rise out of you ‘cause I could.

“And how has that changed?”

His voice shifted low, almost sultry.
Now I’m kinda thinking of it as foreplay.

It was her turn to make the choking sound, followed by a wave of heat planting itself firmly in her cheeks. “Oh, please.”

That’s right, baby. Beg.

She couldn’t help but laugh, refusing to take the man seriously. “This is going to be a long night.”

His chuckle joined hers.
Count on it.

“You better behave yourself, Rhys.”

To that, he had no response.