Inferno of Darkness (Order of the Blade #8) (13 page)

The afternoon sunlight stretched long, too long. Time was running out as Dante moved quickly, setting up the rocks in formation with such swiftness and perfection that Elisha suspected he had done it many times before. He was building a pentagram, carved in the earth, the corners each anchored by a sharp rock in the shape of an arrowhead. Dante had explained it was how he needed to call Rohan, but with each passing moment, she became more anxious. What if Rohan killed her? What if he couldn’t help? They were running out of time.

With each rock Dante set in place, the air grew thicker and heavier, tainted by darkness that Elisha was all too familiar with, making her restless. She could feel the power of the sword growing, summoning Dante, and she could feel the effort he was expending not to grab it. She glanced at the nearby mountain, and saw a puff of black and purple steam plume from the top, cascading down the rocky sides as if the smoke was heavier than the air itself, as if it were carrying debris and dragging it down onto the surface. She shivered as she watched it. The mountain was coming alive, sensing the impending severing of the veil. The situation was unfolding with pre-fated precision.

She touched Dante's arm. "The barrier to the nether-realm is thinning," she told him. "I can feel it coming through." Not just the nether-realm, but taint from the queen's darkness. She shivered, unable to keep herself from looking around, half expecting the creatures of the night to start emerging from the shadows.

"I know." Dante stood back and called out his spear with a crack and a flash of black light. He dragged the tip across his palm, carving a thick gash in his hand. "I need your blood, too."

"Mine?" Elisha shook her head, knowing all too well the cost of allowing someone to control her through her blood. "No, I can't—"

"If Rohan's going to see for both of us, we need to build a conduit for both of us." He held out his hand. "Come."

She stared at him. "Isn't the blood bond one of the stages of the
sheva
bond? What if we accidentally—"

"It won't matter. We're both protected." He nodded at the runes still burned into his flesh.

Elisha glanced nervously toward the pool where the sword was resting. The water had started boiling an hour ago, and she knew it would not be long before it claimed Dante. In her pocket lay the Blade of Cormoranth…but even as she thought it, she looked at Dante, at his dark eyes, at his strong stance. He was a warrior of such honor. Was there really a chance she could kill him?

No, no, there was not. Was he strong enough to destroy the sword? No one was, but at the same time, Dante gave her hope. There was so much honor in him, so much goodness...but if he did it, she would die. And as she looked at this man who had made love to her, for the first time in her life, she became afraid of death. She became afraid of what she would lose if she died. She had just met this man, but he had changed everything for her. For the first time in her life, she knew tenderness and warmth, and it was because of him.

If she died, it would be over. Dante would be over. Just the thought of being separated from him made anguish pulse in her heart, and she realized she didn't want to die. And with that realization, all her power left her. If she was afraid to die, what did she have left? Nothing. Her willingness to sacrifice her own life to stop her mother had always been Elisha's only tool against her. But Dante had taken that from her.

What had she done?

He held out his hand for hers. "Elisha?"

She had to try. Wordlessly, she held out her hand. Dante took her hand in his and pressed his lips to her palm. "I'm sorry to have to do this, Elisha."

She nodded. "I know."

Without taking his gaze off hers, he took his spear and swiped it across her palm. She jumped at the stab of pain, and he immediately pressed his lips to the wound, taking away her pain. She smiled sadly at his tender gesture. The man kissed her bleeding hand to make her feel better? "You're not making it easy for me to kill you if I need to," she muttered.

He grinned, a smile that seemed to light up her heart. "I know. I'm difficult that way." He clasped her hand with his injured one. "Let's do this—"

A searing pain ricocheted through her hand as their blood mingled. She yelped and tried to jerk her hand free, but he didn't let go, his grip tight around hers as he went down on his knees, still gripping her hand. Pain was etched on the lines of his face, and she knew he was feeling the same shock. "Let go!" she demanded, trying to pull free of his grasp. The pain was excruciating, traveling up her arm as if her very blood had been contaminated by his.

"I can't," he gritted out. He pulled on her hand, tugging her down to her knees in front of him. His fist went to her hair and he yanked her close, his face inches from hers. "I have to say it," he growled. "I can't stop myself."

"Say what?" But even as she asked, she knew. The words were in her head, screaming at her. Words she didn't recognize, but somehow knew.

He dragged her up against him, so her breasts were against his chest. "Mine to you. Yours to me. Bonded by blood, by spirit and by soul, we are one. No distance too far, no enemy too powerful, no sacrifice too great. I'll always find you. I'll always protect you. No matter what the cost. I am yours as you are mine." He bit out the words, almost angry, and they hammered at her, assaulting her, like a fierce wind trying to rip her to shreds.

Rightness filled her, like a great burst of sunlight. Then she heard herself saying the words in her own head, the words she didn't want, the words she didn't even know. "Mine to you. Yours to me. Bonded by blood, by spirit and by soul, we are one. No distance too far, no enemy too powerful, no sacrifice too great. I'll always find you. I'll always keep you safe. No matter what the cost. I am yours as you are mine."

Dante growled with possession and anger, even as he pulled her against him and kissed her. It was a frantic, desperate kiss that exploded through her. Equally desperate, she threw her arms around him and kissed him back, needing his touch, needing to feel his body against hers, needing more. The words they'd pledged continued to echo through her mind, evoking a need for Dante beyond what she'd ever felt before.

He grabbed her by the hips, and shoved his hands under her dress, even as he kissed her. "God, yes," she whispered, grappling for the front of his pants. The moment she freed him, he yanked her against him, sheathing himself inside her so fiercely she screamed at the invasion.

He gripped her hair, holding her at his mercy as he kissed her, ruthless possessive kisses of ownership...and it felt so right. She, the woman who would give herself to no man, burned for the way he was claiming her. He drove deep, one arm locked around her waist, holding her against him as he buried himself in her again and again. Elisha locked her legs around his hips, her body writhing as he drove into her, her gasps of agonized pleasure swallowed by kisses that tore through all her shields, exposing her all the way down to her core.

It became too much, the lovemaking, the passion, the
need
, making her ache and writhe for more, for completion. With a roar, Dante staggered to his feet and slammed her against a tree trunk, bracing her against the trunk. She gripped his shoulders, gasping as he drove into her, his hands tight on her hips as he held her relentlessly, holding her where he wanted her, staking his claim on her with every thrust, every kiss, every move. Harder and harder he drove into her, and she screamed as desire built within her, twisting her and tormenting her until it was beyond what she could withstand. "Dante," she gasped, "I can't—"

"We can—" Then he drove again, a final time, and the orgasm exploded through her. Her body went rigid, and colors exploded through her mind. Red, green, violet, yellow, ruthless swirls of energy trying to consume her as fire rushed through her body, igniting every cell.

Dante shouted her name and then bucked against her, impaling himself so deeply within her that she knew they would never part, that their connection would hold them in its ruthless grasp for all eternity. His body went rigid, his grip on her merciless as he fought to help them both survive the orgasm terrorizing them both. The orgasm was not relief, and it did not end. It grew and grew, consuming them. It was ruthless, devastating, too much, too much... "Stay with me, Elisha," he shouted, his voice barely penetrating the kaleidoscope of colors and noise that was pressing down upon her.

He kissed her again, and this time, through the din, she felt him reach for her, not just with his hands, but with his soul. His energy rushed through her, and she lunged for his strength, opening her spirit to him. They connected instantly, and he enfolded her in his spirit, immediately weaving a protective shield around them both. The orgasm hammered at his protections like a predator, streaking through them, rattling everything, fighting to tear them apart. Elisha buried her face in Dante's shoulder, clinging to him as he pressed his body into her, using his strength to hold them up, to hold them together, locking them in a defensive embrace, just trying to survive the assault, but it was too much, too powerful—

Elisha.
His voice was like a warm flood of strength through her soul, a gasp of air.

Dante?
She thought his name and felt his response instantly.

Focus on me, Elisha. I've got us.
Again, his voice seemed to caress her, encircling her mind with power and protection.

Elisha held tight to that sound, the feel of his spirit, huddling against him as the waves of the orgasm continued to blast them, tearing at them, weakening her until all she could do was focus on the feel of Dante's body still pinning her against the tree, on the warmth of his spirit, on the sound of his voice still talking to her...until suddenly, abruptly, mercifully, it was over.

Every muscle in his body was shaking violently.

His breath rasped in his chest, as if it were tearing flesh each time he inhaled.

His blood burned where it flowed through his veins.

Every part of his body hurt from the orgasm.

And he could tell from the way Elisha was trembling that he'd failed to protect her from the same fate. He pressed his face into her hair, his arms still locked around her, his cock still deep inside her. Her legs were clamped around his hips as she gripped his shoulders, her face buried in the curve of his neck.
Elisha?

She didn't respond, and he couldn't find her in his mind. Had he imagined their mental connection? Shit, he hoped he had. Or hadn't. He didn't even know what had just happened between them. He just knew it was dangerous as hell. "Elisha?" This time, he spoke aloud.

She groaned. "What just happened? And don't tell me it was simply because you're a Calydon, because I won't believe it. Even you guys can't produce an endless orgasm that sucks all the life out of you before you have a chance to brag to all your friends."

He laughed softly at her disbelieving tone. "Maybe it was a warning by the gods never to have sex again?"

"It worked." She lifted her head from his shoulder, and he saw pain etched in her eyes. "I thought I was going to burn up from the inside out. It was as if lightning was searing me."

"I know. Me, too." He had to look at her arm. He knew he had to check to see if she was carrying his brand. The blood bond had compelled their intimacy, and that would happen only with a
sheva.
And the sex...had that been driven by the blood bond, or had it been something else? Because he'd never heard of the blood bond inducing that kind of response. He had to know what he was dealing with and look for the brand that would indicate their fate. But as hell was his witness, he didn't want to.

"What were those words we said?" She looked up, so much exhaustion in those violet-blue eyes. She no longer carried the sated look of a woman well-loved. It was the haunted expression of a woman barely hanging on, trying to regain control of the situation, of herself. But there was no blame or recrimination in her eyes, just the need to reach for him for comfort and understanding.

He ground his jaw at her question, knowing that the blame would appear on her face when he told her the truth. "Those words are the oath from the blood bond stage of the
sheva
bond."

Her eyes went wide, and she jerked her arm from his neck and looked down. He followed her gaze, but his brand was not on her arm. They were still safe. Relief cascaded through him, and he closed his eyes for a long moment, willing strength back into his body. "We're still good." Except he knew that they weren't. Calydons could talk mind-to-mind only with other Calydons, except in the case of their soul mate. "Did you...hear my voice in your head while we were making love?"

She nodded. "Yes, but I can't anymore."

"Shit." He didn't know what was going on, but they both needed space right now. He palmed her hips, supporting her as he withdrew, both of them gasping as he pulled out. The orgasm hit again, and he grimaced, fighting to retain control as Elisha bucked in his arms. He held her tightly, their cheeks pressed together as they clung to each other, their bodies screaming as the orgasm tore through them with even more ferocity than the first time. It was ruthless, merciless, violent, taking them over yet again. He drilled his focus down, fighting to protect them, to somehow shield them from the repeated onslaught. But he couldn't halt it, and it raked through them again, even though he wasn't even inside her.

She screamed, and he caught her mouth in a kiss, desperate to find a way out of the loop.
Elisha, we have to ride it. We can't fight it. It's stronger than us.
Instinctively, he reached for her mind again, and this time, he felt her awareness when he touched her mind.

I can't, Dante. It's too much. It hurts—

Stop fighting it. Give yourself over to me. Just let me absorb the pain. We have to try it. Come on!
He kissed her face, kissed away the tears streaming down her cheeks, even as he tightened his grip on her hips, fighting to hold her against him, struggling to protect her from the bark that was against her back. He tried to back up, to pull her away from the trunk, but he couldn't do it. The orgasm held them both too ruthlessly, howling through him like a demon possessed.
We can't beat it. We have to go with it.