Beautiful Salvation (6 page)

Read Beautiful Salvation Online

Authors: Jennifer Blackstream

Tags: #Angels, #Cupid, #Demon, #Erotic Romance, #Erotica, #Erotic Paranormal Romance, #Fairy Tales, #Fantasy Romance, #Historical Paranormal Romance, #Love Stories, #Love Story, #Mermaids, #Paranormal Romance, #Romance, #Shifters, #Vampires, #Witch, #Witches, #Gods

 

“The king,” Etienne guessed.

 

Saamal nodded grimly. “As the king went to sleep, his vitality stopped feeding the land. Since the holy men were part of the castle’s population as well, there was also no one left to oversee the sacrifices. Without the sustenance it was the king’s duty to provide, the earth suffered until it is as you see it now.” He looked across the land, unable to swallow past the lump in his throat. “Barren.”

 

“Did you say…sacrifice?” Adonis’ eyes bored into Saamal’s, a strange emotion flickering in the brief sparks of cinnamon in the hazel depths. “What kind of sacrifice?”

 

Saamal met the demon’s eyes without flinching. “There is much you do not know about my kingdom. Do not judge when you do not understand.”

 

There was a strained silence, emphasized rather than broken by the wind through the brittle briars. Saamal could feel the weight of Etienne’s scrutiny on him as well, but he didn’t take his eyes from Adonis. This was it. This was the time he would find out if he could believe Eurydice, if he could believe that he was no longer alone in his quest to wake Aiyana from her sleep and save his kingdom.

 

“There was a time the people thought sacrificing a virgin was a good way to curry favor with an incubus.”

 

Saamal paused. It took him a moment to shift his thoughts and follow Adonis’ new line of conversation. “Indeed?”

 

Adonis rolled his eyes. “Ridiculous, right? Why on earth would an incubus be pleased to see a perfectly good virgin—”

 

“Get to the point, Adonis.” Etienne crossed his arms.

 

“We can talk about sacrifice later,” Adonis finished. “But we
will
talk about it later?”

 

“Is it your intention to tell me how to run my kingdom, Adonis?” Saamal kept his voice calm. The demon knew nothing about this kingdom, nothing about what it took, what it had taken… There’d been a time he would have killed Adonis for questioning him. Fortunately for the demon, a century of forced humility had taught Saamal restraint.

 

“You know me better than to think I want to tell you how to run your kingdom.” Adonis’ face hardened. “But if you’re talking about human sacrifice…” He stopped, pursed his lips. “Some things are not acceptable. If Kirill is right, and whatever Eurydice has planned is going to keep us in each other’s lives, then I need to know what sort of person you are before we go on.” He glanced at the castle for a long moment. “I’m willing to put the conversation off until we can make sure Aiyana is safe. But after that…”

 

The image of Aiyana lying in her bed, still as death even after a century, moved Saamal to incline his head, his eyes still locked on Adonis’. “We will talk later.”

 

Etienne furrowed his eyebrows. “If a sacrifice is needed to keep the land healthy, and the king is no longer able to lead the sacrifice, then why don’t you perform them yourself?”

 

Saamal stiffened, then reminded himself that though Etienne was perhaps a little more familiar with the flesh and blood aspect of existence, he was painfully unfamiliar with the divine. “A sacrifice is offered to gods, not by gods. If gods were to sacrifice to themselves, the sacrifice would have no meaning, no power. It would be murder, not sacrifice.”

 

Adonis opened his mouth, then closed it as if thinking better of what he’d been about to say. Etienne remained silent, appearing to be mulling over Saamal’s words. Saamal took advantage of the silence. He left his companions to their thoughts as he closed his eyes and opened his senses, listening without his ears to the wheeze of the wind. Though the air no longer answered to him as it once did, he could still hear its voice, gather information from its swells. The breeze ran invisible fingers through his hair, swirled around his head, breathing words into his ears in a language that had him aching for a simpler time. He clenched his teeth, forcing his mind to the present. There was nothing new to learn, nothing that had happened in his absence. Everything was silent.

 

A sudden growl from behind him prompted Saamal to open his eyes. He found Etienne staring off into the beginning of the maze of briars that surrounded the palace. His eyes had bled to the golden amber of his wolf and the sound trickling out of his throat had the hair on the back of Saamal’s neck standing up. The werewolf hunched over, the muscles of his arms and back swelling, stopping short of growing fur and moving him from human to half beast. He took a step in the direction of the brush and bared glistening canines at the darkness.

 

Adonis crouched slightly, rising onto the balls of his feet and scanning the environment with eyes that had bled to hellish crimson though he remained solidly in human form. “What is it?”

 

“Predator.” Etienne’s voice was thick, a low, gravelly sound that was more animal than human.

 

Familiar spirits danced in Saamal’s awareness, so familiar they were more an extension of his own consciousness. He held up a placating hand to his companions. “There are jaguars that live in the briars. They are guardians, loyal to me even in my reduced state. They will not harm you and I must ask you not to harm them.”

 

Etienne’s skin shivered and he narrowed his eyes to amber slits. He took a step back, but his gaze didn’t waver and his stance remained alert, aggressive.

 

“Why don’t we move inside?” Adonis armed himself with his usual easy smile and headed in the direction of the front door, his stride approaching his signature swagger. He waved a hand in the air and a cigarette appeared between his fingertips. The faint scent of cloves trickled into the air as he rolled the vice between his fingertips a few times, then blew on the end. The tip burst into bright tangerine flame. A cloud of smoke enveloped him as he sucked in a chestful of smoke and exhaled through his nostrils, eyes glowing a bright cherry red and giving him a draconic appearance amidst the smoke. “Shall we?”

 

Saamal obligingly led them into the mess of briars. Wood groaned around him, sharp thorns cracking as the enchanted woods pulled aside to allow him through. “The
balam
coaxed the briars to grow as a sort of protection spell to guard the sleeping palace. I don’t fully understand the enchantment, but I have yet to have a problem with them.”

 

“An enchanting welcome.”

 

Etienne groaned at Adonis’ quip and Saamal shook his head. His companions stayed close, following in his wake, and for a moment, Saamal reflected on how strange it was to not be alone as he travelled this path. It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant sensation.

 

“What is your castle built from?” Etienne ran a hand over the baluster leading up to the front door, brow furrowed as he stared at the smooth carved surface.

 

“Looks like brimstone.” Adonis leaned back, peering up at the towers rising like spearheads into the sky. “The skyline of the whole place looks like it’d be more at home in some monster’s mouth. I’ve never seen towers come to quite that fine a point.”

 

“The stone looks like it’s actually drinking the light.” Etienne glanced over his shoulder at Saamal. “Is it brimstone?”

 

Saamal lifted a shoulder in a tired shrug. “I don’t believe the castle was originally constructed from brimstone. It is more likely that the drain on my land has drawn the life from the stone, reduced it to a darker state.”

 

Etienne narrowed his eyes. “Stone isn’t alive.”

 

“Everything is alive, my friend,” Saamal corrected him. He kept his eyes on the front door, resisting the urge to look at the land behind him. “Everything can be robbed of its energy, left to wither and die. Why do you think stone crumbles?”

 

The werewolf fell silent, the lines between his brows remaining. Saamal took the lead as they reached the front door. The massive wood creaked as he drew the doors open, a sound befitting the mood of the eerily silent palace. They progressed into the main foyer and a rustle of clothing caught Saamal’s attention. Etienne was stripping out of his clothes—a process that did not take long, since the trousers were all he wore.

 

It took him a moment to think of what to say. “Are you uncomfortable, Etienne?”

 

The werewolf rolled his shoulders, standing naked as he took in his surroundings. “I’m going to shift and have a look around, make sure there’s no one here who shouldn’t be. Who’s supposed to be here?”

 

“Everyone.”

 

Adonis and Etienne both frowned. Saamal pinched the bridge of his nose.

 

“I told you, the
balam
put the entire palace to sleep. They will wake after Aiyana wakes. Until then, the castle’s entire population, from king to servant, is all here, all having fallen asleep in the midst of their duties.”

 

Adonis paused with his cigarette halfway to his lips. “Will it affect us?”

 

“No. It was meant to work on all who were present at the time of casting, so there should not be anything to fear for you.”

 

“Perhaps, but what about you?” Adonis mused.

 

“What do you mean? I am not affected.”

 

“Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t. You live here, don’t you? This is where you stay?”

 

“For the last few decades, yes. I stay here to make sure no harm comes to Aiyana.”

 

“Well, constant exposure to this level of spell, regardless of who it’s supposed to affect, would be quite a strain. Maybe this is why you are always so…subdued?”

 

The demon’s suggestion was interesting, though Saamal doubted its validity. It was more likely that the subdued nature Adonis referred to was a result of having half of his lifeforce sucked out of him.

 

Etienne cleared his throat. “So everyone I encounter should be sleeping. No one here should be awake?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Etienne inclined his head once, tilted it side to side, stretching the thick muscles in his neck. The change came over his body in an invigorating rush of energy that Saamal could feel like a warm summer wind, filled with the scent of new leaves and wet earth. Saamal closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. Being in the proximity of such a rush made his blood flow a little faster, his spirits rising ever so slightly. He opened his eyes in time to see Etienne’s muscles surge under his skin. Brown fur erupted along his flesh, swallowing his human skin in the pelt of a brown wolf. He fell to the ground, hands slamming into the floor as his legs snapped at the knees and bent the other direction, reforming into a quadruped’s form. He bowed his head, chest heaving as he breathed through the change. Sharp claws scrabbled at the stone floor and as the last twitch of his body heralded the completion of the change. He raised his snout and howled. He sniffed at the air and then took off, racing into the next room.

 

“I assume the lovely Aiyana is in the tower.” Adonis puffed on his cigarette and gestured at the stairs. “Shall we proceed?”

 

Saamal glanced at Adonis, a quirk in his eyebrow. “How do you know Aiyana is in the tower?”

 

Adonis swept in the direction of the grand staircase in the center of the room. “The princess is
always
in the tower.”

 

Another howl echoed around the castle before Saamal could formulate a proper response. A sudden chill raced down his back like the sharp slide of an icicle. The well of remaining power inside him opened wide and he drew deeply from it as he dashed through the grand hall, following the howl through to the kitchens and down into the servants’ quarters. His heart pounded as he finally dashed into the room the howl was originating from.

 

Etienne, still in wolf form, was crouched inside the doorway, facing an unconscious servant. The werewolf’s lips were pulled back, white teeth bright in the dim light. The man he was agitated by was average height, as far as Saamal could tell from looking at him lying on the floor, his skin a honeyed brown, black hair cut short and close to his head. He was curled slightly on his side, seeming to have gone to sleep in the middle of dressing for his shift. He wore the uniform of a cook.

 

“What is it?” Saamal demanded. “One of the cooks?”

 

Adonis spoke from behind him. “He doesn’t seem any different than any of the others.”

 

Suddenly, Etienne darted forward, closing his jaws on the footman’s hand in a vicious bite. The man screamed and shot up from the floor. Etienne released his hand and leapt back, still facing the footmen with a menacing sound rumbling in his throat.

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