Shadows of the Keeper (36 page)

Emily whirled.

Dezenial pursued, lethal intent unmistakable.

She seethed.  Thrusting her
hand high left and then right, muttering words as clearly as if reading a
passage from a book of spells, all present were amazed, including herself, at
the blue arcs of light appearing.  Streaks of light melded, twisted and
created a cage-wall of sorts.

Dezenial was brought up short,
unable to pass through the webbed lights.

“Wanna know why I seem so bitter,
so angry? It’s not that I’m ungrateful, quite the contrary.  But, you are under
the impression that, because I’m human, I’m to be treated like an idiot;
furthermore, Mr. Dezenial, not one time have either you,  nor Broc, respected
that I want-to-go-home!  You both wave me off like nothing more than a gnat.
So, piss off!”  She offered a little waggle of her fingers.  “Buh-bye.”

“Keer’dra!  You are not safe
to travel these caverns alone.  Keer’dra!  Your temper will be your
death!”

She rammed her middle finger in the
air and rounded a bend away from him without a second glance.  Out from
his line of vision, she sprinted.

Earsplitting roar, the likes she
would later compare to jets taking off, deafened.  Rocks tumbled. 
She was thrown to the ground by the quake.  From behind, explosions of red
light arced.  “Oh,
shit
!”  Ominous shadow loomed, stretching
towards her.  It was nothing compared to the beast stalking its
wake. 

As if in slow motion, Dezenial strode
purposefully around the bend she’d just cleared.  His head lowered, his
expression was something she’d never seen in him.  Eyes burned
crimson.  Tiny bones weaved into the ends of his lunar hair flew back from
the force of his advance upon her.  Black thigh boots, skintight leggings,
his torso bare, fists clenched—death personified. 

Emily shrieked.  Standing on
shaky legs, she fled.  Lacking direction of where she could hide, she
glanced over her shoulder.  He was closing in!  From nowhere, a guard
stepped out, flail swinging like a pendulum.  Brought up short, Emily
gawked at the two inch spikes protruding from the ball, and the killer eager to
shred her with it.  Enemy, or called upon by Dezenial?  He didn’t
advance, just made sure she knew, he was there to stop her.  Confirmation this
was one of Dezenial’s goons, not an assassin. 

Raising her chin, she turned and
faced down her nemesis.  Counting his steps, she didn’t bother praying to
entities. They had abandoned her long ago.  He terminated his advance, his
chest against her, forcing her to look up at him as he loomed over her.

“You will learn,” he inhaled
deeply, nostrils flaring, “to defy me is to die.”

“Death doesn’t scare me.”

“
Death
will be the easy
part.”  His hand snaked out, grasping the back of her skull, arching her
head back even further.  “But I have another lesson in mind for you. 
You need taming, hellcat.”  His head dipped within inches of her
face.  “You will find you are in the custody of one who will succeed at
such an endeavor.”  His mouth hovered against her own until she could
taste him, his fangs brushing against her lips.  “My command will rule you
forever.”  His mouth plundered hers.  She struggled, trying to pull
away.  “You will give in to me, Keer’dra.  You will succumb to my
power over you, and you will swallow that dangerous pride of yours.”  His
mouth assaulted hers again, though she tried to avert her face.  Roughly,
he cupped her chin.  “I take what belongs to me.  Shall I show you
how?”

“No.”  She tasted blood. 
Sweet.  Spicy.

“Do you deny you are mine?”

“You denied me.  Consider the
favor returned.”

“Your lack of fear is your
downfall.”

“I refuse to . . . fear . . .
you.”  Her body begged to differ by quaking.

Sharp fangs traced an invisible
line from her collarbone to the lobe of her ear, suckling on the tender flesh
for mere seconds.  Emily shuddered.  To her horror, her head fell
back, her neck arching, silently begging for his devouring.  When had he
let go of her hair?

He chuckled.

Her eyes snapped open.

“I have my answer,” he sneered.

“I don’t belong to you.  I
belong to none.  None want me.  Never have. I am nothing more than a
damn conquest to you, and your Lumynari pride.”

She found herself immediately
ensconced within his embrace again, his mouth predatory against hers,
commanding her soft lips part for his entry.  His tongue dove into her
mouth, grasping her own, suckling, gently pulling, his hand cupping her face
with tenderness that belied his incredible strength.

Her knees buckled.

Instantly, he stepped back and
coldly watched her collapse. 

“Bastard,” she whispered, clutching
her chest.  Shards pierced her heart.

“Look at me.”

She shook her head.  The guard
stepped closer. 
Great, an audience viewed my mauling
.

“You-will-look-at-me!”  Ground
rumbled.  Her teeth rattled.  What punishment would he mete, if she
kept refusing
and
in front of his subjects?  Bitterly, she raised
her gaze to find his, holding it tightly, hoping he felt her agony.

“You belong to me.  Do not
doubt it.  Do not waste my time fighting it.  I grow weary waiting to
claim you.  Dare to test me again, and I will not be a
gentleman
.”

“You will never be anything more to
me than what you are now, an animal.”

He hunkered down so quickly, she
reared.  He caught her and held her steady.  What she saw in his eyes
silenced her. 

“Hate me for now, Emily, in this
moment, but when you are no longer warmed with fury, when you shudder with
chill, it will be me who warms your flesh, your heart and your soul. 
Only
me.  I am the only one who will ever understand all that you are, and
accept all who you will be.  Temper included.  All I ask in return is
to respect my authority, not to control you, but to keep you safe from those,
even now, plotting your death.”  He stood, turned away, and didn’t look
back for the duration of his vacating her presence.

She’d never felt more alone or more
small than she did right now. 

“If you can pick yourself up, we
will continue your training,” a voice said from behind.

The voice of her most despised
antagonist.

“My life just keeps getting
better.  How long were you lurking, Inzyr?”

“Enough to know it fails to be much
longer before you become his mate.”

“Over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged.”

“Yeah, because killing a helpless
woman is such a challenge for you.”  Emily stood, her legs quaking, and
dusted dirt from her backside.  With a sigh of disgust, she turned to face
down her nemesis.  A dozen or so guards stood behind him.  “Oh,
goody, more fans.  Joy.  I swear upon everything unholy down in this
pit, if I don’t get coffee and food, your leg is going to become my meal. 
If you’re going to keep pets, Inzyr, we need to eat.”

“I’m sure we can find something
dead for you to gnaw.  Follow me.”  He pivoted and stormed away, his
long white hair flapping against the pace he set.

Long distances, they traveled in
silence, the ultra-dim world offering little view other than rocks, and more
rocks.  Emily debated singing a ridiculous car-traveling ditty to keep
terror of darkness at bay.  Dehydrated, her tongue felt more like a huge
glob of old gum.  Just as well.  No doubt, her current escort of
monsters would pounce if she started singing One Hundred Bottles of Beer on the
Wall.  Save for the guard nearly glued to her ass, each of the creatures
possessed the same lunar white hair, glowing like Inzyr’s—like her own. 
The assassin wore an unclasped jerkin, but the others wore leather body armor,
their shoulder padding coming to jagged points tipped with silver.  She
slammed into Inzyr.  When had he stopped?

“Do not question me.”  He set
her from him.  “Argue, and I’ll have no qualms tearing your tongue from
that vicious little mouth.  You attempted to save Dezenial’s life when
stepping in front of the whip master, and again when you torched your prison
guard.  For that, I tolerate you.  I will not, however, tolerate your
disobedience where we’re about to step into.”

Emily sighed, weary of arguments
and threats. 
Dezenial
?  No answer.  “Had I realized the
depth of your hatred, I would not have imposed upon you for something as simple
as breakfast.”

“It is the middle of the night,
just so we’re clear on how little you know.”

“Tell me again how I’d distinguish
this in your world of forever-dark?  Why don’t we skip the pleasantries,
and just begin this training so utterly beneath you, that we may part company,
or I kill myself—whichever comes first.”

“You are in need of nourishment.”

“I don’t need handouts from the
likes of you.  You hate me,” she shrugged.  “Whatever.  Don’t
really care for your tight ass either, but, apparently,
daddy
feels I
need
babysitting
.”  Her pointed stare dared him to react to her
insult, her brow arching of its own volition.

Contempt slithered down his
towering body, crawled across the floor and was such a tangible thing, she
could have stomped it until it bellyached back to its owner. 

Inzyr unhurriedly freed his
cutlass.

Emily trotted back, eyes igniting
along with her hands.  She stumbled against a very hard body.  Over
her shoulder, she looked up.  Death stared back.  She averted her
attention back to Inzyr.  He was going to kill her.  Right
here.  No wonder Dezenial had mentally cut her off.  Too chicken shit
to kill her himself; too chicken shit to hear her screams.

She’d roast the assassin. 
Then his goon squad.

Raising her hands, blue flames
engulfed her arms.

Inzyr turned away, but not before
smirking.  “Stay to my back, and no further.  Keep that mouth of
yours shut, or we visit a seamstress.  They have quite a way with needles
when sewing mouths shut.”  He conversed in his language, drawing guffaws
and obvious snorts of agreement from the surrounding Lumynaries.  “And,
just so we’re clear,” he flung his hand at her.

Flame snuffed.

“Strike one,” Emily warned,
pretending indifference to her now flameless hands.  She almost expected
them to be smoking. 
Strike one for you too, Dezenial. 
Schmuck.  How dare you leave me with this creature.  Coward
.
 For whatever reason, her mind conjured the image of Pendaran. 
Perhaps her hatred of one male required competition?

Pendaran arrogantly leaning against
Castle MacLarrin’s massive entry doors.  Scenes altered.  He pushed
away from the doors, briskly moving towards her as he unsheathed his
sword.  His lips were moving.  Akin to watching old silent movies,
there lacked sound of any kind.  Her ears pounded.  He raised his
free hand.  Medallion.  Spinning.  Sunlight glinted off of the
silver.  It had been a beautiful piece, given to her when he’d posed as a
chauffeur.  Sunlight again.  Oh, how she missed the warmth against
her skin.  Closing her eyes, her head tilted back, a sigh escaped as blessed
warmth caressed her face.  Pendaran stalked.  The medallion swayed. 
Back and forth . . . back and forth.  A flick of his wrist and it began
twirling faster and faster.  Spinning silver captivated her.  Shards of light
grew.  Each rotation, the arcs extended.  Reaching.  For her!  Pendaran’s
voice began to penetrate.  From very, very far off.  Garbled. 
Foreign.  He was shouting!  Emily retreated.  Frightened. 
The medallion pulled her attention; held her.

Pendaran pursued.  A hunter
closing in on its prey.  Powerless to move, Emily searched her perimeter
for escape.  He lifted his arm higher, forcing her attention back on the
medallion.  Twirling rapidly, it transformed into a cylinder.  Emily
gasped.  Tiny rays of light resumed shooting out towards her.  They
were changing . . . into white wispy hands—

Throwing her arm up, she averted
her gaze.  “Pendaran, stop!”

Shouting erupted.

Emily was seized, spun, and slammed
against a hard chest, an arm of steel banding around her middle.  “Remain
against me.  I will protect you.”

The nightmare who remained
practically glued to her backside during this wretched trek was now offering
protection?  Stranger still, she actually found comfort in his silky
voice.  What was happening?  Shouting escalated.  She sensed
utter chaos.  Had Drakar’s forces attacked?  The steel band relaxed a
bit.  Emily breathed more freely.  She was even permitted to move
away.  Looking around, she expected to see slain bodies.  Menacing
killer frowned down at her, speaking foreign words.  Odd, his hair was
black.  Emily gasped.  “
You’re
the one who escorted us to
dinner last night.”

“He says for you not to move away
from him.  He has been charged with your life.”

Emily warily complied. 
Muscled arm wrapped around her waist again.  “What’s happening?”

“Perhaps you would care to tell
us.”

“Do I look like an investigative
reporter?”

A cold edge to his voice, Inzyr
spoke to the surrounding garrison.  Their eyes, illuminated much like a
nocturnal animal, scanned above and around.  A few commented in return
before moving away.

“I am not in the habit of waiting
for those in my charge to follow,” Inzyr said, returning his vicious scrutiny
to her.  “Nor do I wait for my questions to be answered.”

“I
have
been following
you.”  She raised her chin.  “I don’t want to be around you
anymore.  Take me back.”

“Your whims are of little
importance.  What were you seeing?”

“Seeing?”

“You have stood rooted, unable to
hear me calling your name.  A vision presented itself to you.”  He
ground out words from behind clenched teeth.  “What-did-you-
see
?”

To say his name is to call him
to you
, Blade had warned.  Did she want that?  Even here, amongst
these savages, did she want any of Broc’s lying comrades near her?  But
then, hadn’t Dezenial abandoned her?  What loyalty did she owe him now?

“You’ve made a grave error if you
assume I will continue questioning.”

“Tell me, oh Assassin, why
did
Dezenial trust me in your keeping, and yet, you drip contempt?  Is it your
wish to get me somewhere deep in these bowels of hell where you’ll finish me
off, my carcass rotting, never to be found?”  She felt the charging within
her, a familiar sensation prior to battle.  Veins tingled as if
electricity coursed through her, tightening of her scalp, and a sharpness to
her vision as, others claimed, her eyes began to glow.

His eyes turned molten.  Solid
body against her back tensed.

Time to see if Blade spoke
truths. 

“
Pendaran
.”

Inzyr’s nostrils flared.  His
upper lip curled and a snarl escaped.

“Why would I be seeing
Pendaran
?”

Inzyr charged.  Fisting her
collar, he yanked her close.  She swatted, clawed, and even succeeded in
biting the back of his hand.  Arms banded around hers, pinning her from
behind.  Inhumanly snarling, Inzyr ripped open her tunic, exposing her
cleavage.

She crazed.  Head-butting
Inzyr, she used the body behind her as leverage, elevated and gut-kicked him
with both feet as if pushing off.  Quick as lightening, she repeated her
performance, this time clipping his chin with her foot.  His body slammed
against hers.  Glaring down at her were twin amber orbs of pure
malice.  The body behind her remained like a brick wall.

“Call him,” Inzyr ordered. 
“The amulet hasn’t been placed around your neck.  Call him now!”

“Fine! PENDARAN, PENDARAN, PENDAR—“

Calloused hand violently covered
her mouth.  “Utter that name again, and I-will-gut-you.  Do
not
play coy with me.” 

“You said call him,” she mumbled
from under his hand.

“
Dezenial
.”

She snorted.

“In your special way, Emily. 
Now
.”

She shook her head.  She
wasn’t calling that son of a—

Inzyr withdrew a double-edged
dagger.

Emily closed her eyes. 
Dezenial!

That she was screaming, she had no
knowledge until Inzyr’s hand clamped over her mouth again.  Her throat was
fire.  How long had she left her mind?

“We divert.  My
chambers.  Follow me.  Say nothing, Emily.” 

Her crazed eyes stared at his
dagger poised over her heart. 
I hate you, Dezenial.  I hate you!
She screamed her mantra nonstop until mentally, she slumped.  Inzyr walked
with unfaltering purpose.  She trudged.  Colorless terrain sloped
deeply.  She was forced to lunge-walk.  Twice, she’d come close to
sliding down, had her protector from behind not steadied her.  Cold air
bit deeply leaving her diseased with shaking.  Thin tunic, now torn thanks
to a certain animal, offered little warmth.  Leggings, thigh boots acted
as barrier for her legs, but her arms had numbed over an hour ago.  Every
few minutes, she reached up with fingers that felt like unoiled hinges, and
felt her ears.  Still attached.  They stung from the cold.  How
much longer before they froze solid and fell off?  She rubbed her arms for
warmth.  Painful waste of effort.  Not even her surroundings could
distract from the freezing temperatures currently numbing her mind.  Even
darker than the previous hour.  Her legs gave out.  Abruptly lifted,
she huddled against warmth, not caring who—or what—carried her.  She
burrowed deeper against the body, trying to absorb radiating heat.  Clacking. 
Her jaw ached.  How long had her teeth been chattering? 

They halted.

A torch flared, burning her
eyes.  She buried her face into the chest of whomever carried her. 
So warm.  If only she could get closer.  She felt herself shifted,
then eased down.  They stood in front of an onyx door inlaid with
runes.  Didn’t matter.  Too cold to care.  They could be
standing at Godzilla’s feet.  She’d welcome the trampling, if it promised
an end to this cold.

“You are in my domain now. 
Remain silent until we are indoors.”

Emily offered a half-assed
salute.  Then checked to make sure her fingers hadn’t fallen off.

Several variations of Lumynari
passed by.  They acknowledge Inzyr, and paid her little heed. 
Probably
assume I’m his whore.  Or new slave
.  Her monster guard pressed
his body against her backside, strong hand splaying her abdomen, his other arm
wrapping tightly around her upper torso.  Heat penetrated instantly. 
If she weren’t so damn cold, she’d slap him for the intimate way he held
her.  Warmth.  Right now, he could strip her naked, shave her head
and make her walk on her hands, if it meant he’d keep sharing this wonderful
body heat.  She pressed back, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the sensation
of someone actually giving a damn about her.

Flicker of apprehension coursed
through her.  Eyes flew open, positive the assassin was about to slit her
throat.  Inzyr touched large black shiny runes, while others, he
turned.  So deftly his hand traveled, she’d never remember the
sequence.  And then, she gasped, pressing deeper against her living
radiator.  Laughter rumbled against her back.  The black shiny runes
lifted, eight legs sprouting.  Scuttling like real spiders, they traveled
an invisible maze, deep holes randomly opening for them to drop their bulbous
little bodies into.  A series of wet pops followed.  “Yuck. 
Uber yuck.”

Arched door popped free from its
holdings.  Swoosh of pressurized air breezed over them.  Barest hint
of movement, the door opened enough for one body to enter.  Inzyr snatched
her wrist, and shoved her through.  She clawed his face before he finally
succeeded in coming in himself.  Once he cleared the door, it slid back
into its deep grooves.  Several seconds passed, pitch black drowning her
while the sound of metal spiders clackety-clacked back into their original
place—or so, she
assumed
that’s what she was hearing.  “I hate
spiders.”

“Silence.”

“I hate you.  I hate
Dezenial.  And screw your silence.”  She screamed with every ounce
she owned in her five-foot-three frame!  Then she laughed.