One Bite (10 page)

Against her will, Irina thought of a few individuals who would leap at that sort of freedom. She pursed her lips and Kirill nodded.

“Exactly.
And those people would push others into defending themselves, and things would escalate. How long do you think it would take before
Dacia
became nothing more than another abomination like
Midguard
?”

Irina fell silent. Her mind worked to turn over what Kirill had said and though she hated to admit it, there was a kernel of wisdom in his words. She’d have to think it over before she could argue the point properly.

He led her to an open door and Irina froze when she looked into the room, swathed in rich purple and silver. Windows stretched nearly from floor to ceiling, offering a gorgeous view of the stars and moon. It was Kirill’s personal chambers. She recognized it from her previous visit. Anger gushed through her and she crossed her arms.

“You are beyond arrogant if you think I’m sleeping with you.”

Kirill raised an eyebrow. “You prefer to sleep in a room that has not specifically been spelled to keep out my father?”

Irina paused, her mind flashing back to the unpleasant monarch. The king was obviously aware of Kirill’s aspirations and it would not be a stretch for him to assume Irina was part of Kirill’s plan. Unease rippled over her nerves.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally, the words chafing her vocal chords. “Thank you for lending me your room.” She shifted from foot to foot, trying to think of a polite way to phrase her next question. Kirill, damn his eyes, watched her as if he knew full well what she wanted to ask, but was going to let her suffer through it. Irina cleared her throat and forced herself to meet his eyes. “Where will you sleep?”

Oh, how tempting it was to torment her. Even with all the treason he had on his plate, Kirill could think of little else that would be
so
satisfying as leading Irina to believe he intended to share a bed with her.

It was a ridiculous thought, truth
be
told. Kirill died at dawn, his body going cold and still. It was his weakest point, and he certainly didn’t trust this woman to the extent that he would let her see him in such a state. The only way to prevent his daily “death” would be to bond with a human, a sort of “marriage.” Then his sleep would be just that, instead of the corpse-like state he experienced now. He straightened his spine. And he certainly had no intention of bonding in such a way with Irina.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and tucked into bed, shall we?”

He relished the way her jaw tensed and her eyes flashed. She wanted to smack him
again,
he could practically feel the sting of her palm on his cheek. It was almost disturbing how a part of him wished she would. He would love an excuse to grab her again, and hold her still so he could properly chastise her for her blatant disrespect…

“Whatever you’re thinking about, it’s not going to happen.”

Kirill tried to keep his surprise off his face even as his body tensed slightly. It wasn’t like him to let his thoughts run away with him, not when someone else was present. He forced his mouth into a smile.

“I am thinking only of your welfare,” he said smoothly. He took her arm, gently leading her into his room and pulling a velvet cord to summon his manservant. Within minutes, the man appeared in the doorway. “Have a bath prepared,
Demyan
,” he said over his shoulder to his servant.

A curl of
Demyan’s
black hair fell into his eye as he nodded, but he barely seemed to notice. He kept his arms at his sides as he bowed slightly. “At once,
Your
Highness.”

Kirill nudged Irina toward the dressing screen. “Go and undress, the bath will be ready shortly.”

“If you think I’m going to parade around your chambers naked,
then
you’re not just undead, you’re brain dead.”

Amusement brought a small smile to Kirill’s face and he chuckled. “As much as I would enjoy overseeing your…bedtime preparations, I’m afraid I must take my leave. The servants will provide you with dressings for your wounds and a nightgown. My personal healer will be up to check on you as well. If you require my presence, just pull the velvet cord and tell
Demyan
that you wish to see me. He will pass along your message.”

If he wasn’t watching her so carefully, Kirill might have missed the flash of disappointment in Irina’s eyes. Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly and it made her gown dip tantalizingly close to revealing her beautiful pale breasts once again…

Kirill swept out of the room without another word, perturbed by how difficult it was to tear
himself
away from Irina. She was growing to be quite a distraction, and that was unacceptable.

The entire way down to his secret room, Kirill reminded himself of his goals. Irina’s help with the troll king had been
invaluable,
he had yet another ally in the upcoming coup against his father. After locking the door securely behind him, Kirill strode over to a pile of scrolls and removed the one that outlined the troll king and the strengths his people offered as allies. Kirill grasped the scroll and moved to the wall on the east side of the room, affixing it to one of the screws buried in the stone. He examined the line of his allies and nodded to himself. Things were progressing on schedule.

A flash of red caught his eye and Kirill walked over to another table. Prince Etienne gazed up at him from a portrait Kirill had managed to acquire from Sanguenay. Portraits of the other princes also littered the tabletop, along with history books and every scroll Kirill had been able to find that even mentioned the other royal families. A stack of papers sat in the middle of the table, drawings of the legendary World Tree mocking him with its vague prophecies and whispers of the great kingdom lying just out of Kirill’s reach. It was only two more days until the next full moon, when he would go to the tree once again.

A knock at his door made Kirill snap his head up. He bolted to the door, knowing that
Demyan
would not have interrupted him if it was not important.

His chest tightened when he opened the door and revealed a panicked
Demyan
. The man’s usual calm brown eyes were bright with concern, an expression Kirill rarely saw on his servant’s face.

“Your Highness,”
Demyan
gasped. “It’s the young lady. She’s collapsed!”

“Lockdown the castle!”
Kirill snarled.

In seconds, Kirill had bolted from the room, trusting
Demyan
to lock the door behind him. He poured every ounce of his strength into his mad dash for his chambers, flowing like dark light down the zigzagging hallways and exploding into the room.

Irina lay on the floor, clothed in a delicate cotton nightgown. Her wet locks lay in dark tendrils around her head, the water leaking onto the thick red rug. Kirill fell to his knees beside her, putting a hand to her forehead. He frowned when he noticed the pearl encrusted comb buried in her hair. When he attempted to brush it away, it stuck with a stomach turning insistence.

“This comb has been pushed into her flesh,” he said, not bothering to hide the outrage in his voice. He very carefully parted her hair, trying to see the extent of the damage. “You have already sent for the healer, yes?”

“Yes, Sire,
Klement
will be here shortly,”
Demyan
said.
“And
Isai
as well.”

Kirill nodded his satisfaction. “Good. The wizard may be of help.” The scent of blood was so strong it made Kirill’s head spin and his mouth water. He knew that even small head wounds bled badly, so it didn’t necessarily mean the wound was critical. Still, he didn’t like the stillness of Irina’s body. It just didn’t make any sense, Irina wasn’t human. Why did it seem she was so vulnerable?

“Your Highness, may I examine her?”

The healer’s voice was calm and almost musical despite his advanced age. His grey hair and wrinkled face spoke to his experience, one of the reasons Kirill had chosen him for his personal physician. He wore a simple green robe without any special adornments. The clinking sound that always seemed to follow him betrayed the presence of all the vials he always carried on his person, forever prepared for whatever injuries might need seeing to. Kirill nodded, but didn’t move. “The comb has pierced her flesh.”

Klement
knelt on the other side of Irina, gently probing around where the comb met Irina’s skull. Kirill looked up to see him frown then gasped when the healer gently pulled the comb from Irina’s head.

“There is swelling around the wound, more than there should be.” The healer reached into his cloak and pulled out a bag. He rooted through it and found a small, blue glass bottle. Kirill wrinkled his nose at the smell of whatever the liquid was as
Klement
poured it onto a bandage and pressed it to Irina’s head.

“Let me see the comb,” an imperious voice commanded.

Kirill spared a glance at the wizard,
Isai
, as he swept into the room with his usual commanding stride. His blue eyes glowed slightly with power, combining with his golden locks to give him a more beautiful appearance than anyone with his temper had a right to. His golden robes were line with red velvet and embroidered with silver. He was a garish sight, but he never failed to draw attention. The man had ego enough for an entire royal family, but he was also one of the greatest wizards in the five kingdoms.

Kirill picked up the comb from the floor and handed it to
Isai
. Then he turned his attention back to Irina. Her pale face had grown even whiter, taking on an almost silver glow. Her red lips stood out like blood on freshly fallen snow and her black lashes swept down over her cheeks like a raven’s midnight feathers.

“I should not have left her alone.”

Demyan
slowly knelt beside Kirill. “
Your
Highness?”

Kirill hadn’t meant to speak out loud. Still, he was among allies. Of everyone in the entire kingdom, he trusted
Demyan
perhaps most of all. Not for sentimental reasons, but because he was a
koschei
, an immortal whose soul existed outside his body. Long ago, Kirill had managed to find the place where
Demyan
kept his soul and he now held it in a secret location where
Demyan
couldn’t find it. At first the man had raged against Kirill’s demands that he serve Kirill as a manservant until the day Kirill took the throne as king, but after a few decades, the immortal had softened and now served Kirill with something bordering on true loyalty.

“There was an attempt on her life just earlier this evening,” Kirill admitted.
“At the troll king’s home.
I didn’t think anything of it, I didn’t…”

“I have lived with that threat of violence, with that incessant fear, for nearly my entire life.”

Irina’s words came back to him on a memory and he clenched his hands into fists. This was unacceptable. He was too old, too intelligent to make such foolish mistakes. Irina was an important part of his plans now. He needed to find this threat that kept risking her life and destroy it.

“Poison,”
Isai
said grimly. He stood over Irina and held his hand above her body. After murmuring a few words in a language Kirill didn’t understand, the wizard jerked his hand down. A bright flash exploded around Irina’s body and her upper half shot up off the floor before flopping back down.

“What are you doing?” shouted
Klement
. He scrambled to put the balm back against Irina’s head.

“Calm yourself, healer,”
Isai
said, his tone dripping with contempt. “The woman is not human. The poison wasn’t killing her, it was the spell bound to the poison that was harming her. Without the spell, the poison is just so much plant juice.” He turned to Kirill and bowed his head, the closest the wizard ever came to showing respect. “She will be fine,
Your
Ma—”

Kirill was off the floor and had his hand wrapped around
Isai’s
throat before the magic wielder could finish speaking. “In the future,” he said quietly, “you will be more careful with my guests. If you had been wrong, about the spell, the poison, or the woman’s nature, then you could have done great harm with your arrogance.” He tightened his grip, relishing the garbled sound coming from
Isai
, his golden eyes growing wider. He released him suddenly and stepped back. “Thank you for your services. You may go now.”

The wizard stood there for a moment, his eyes growing bright with rage. Kirill kept a straight face as magic crackled in the room, responding to the wizard’s fury. The fool could rant all he wanted
to,
they both knew he wouldn’t dare hurt Kirill. Not when Kirill was in possession of
Isai’s
most precious book of spells. The wizard had to continue to serve Kirill faithfully until he became king, otherwise Kirill had promised to destroy the book.

After a few more moments of posturing, the wizard snarled and whipped around. He swept out of the room like a parting storm.

“Whatever his temperament, he was right, Your Majesty,” the healer said quietly.

“Arrogance costs lives, it doesn’t save them,” Kirill muttered. Still, he looked down at Irina and felt a nearly crushing wave of relief to find her chest rising and falling steadily with her breath. “Get her to bed, please,
Klement
.” He stood. “
Demyan
, come with me.”

As soon as they were out in the hallway, Kirill rounded on
Demyan
. “Did you lockdown the palace?”

“Yes, Your Highness, and I’ve checked the castle wards. No one has tried to get out.” He shifted from foot to foot.

Kirill frowned.
“But?”

“There is someone trying to get in. Lady Serafina would like to see you.”

Kirill froze.
Serafina.
Curse her timing. He didn’t have to look at the clock to know that sunrise was less than an hour away. The sorceress had planned this visit too well, as she always did. With a muttered curse, Kirill stormed down the hallway, making his way to the front door. He nodded to the guards and they opened the heavy oak, revealing Serafina in all her finest. Red silk exploded around her like the petals of an exotic flower. Silver jewelry graced her ears, neck and wrists, sparkling enough to nearly blind him. The bodice was laced so tightly Kirill imagined it was hard for her to breathe, but it did its job of thrusting out her breasts in an erotic feast for the eyes. On any other evening, Kirill would have taken the time to appreciate the sight. However, tonight he had more important things on his mind.