* * * *
Meda wished she had a watch. The chamber Tawren had left her in had no windows or way for her to know how much time had passed. She’d dozed at one point but soon roused. Unease was her constant companion. She didn’t trust Tawren, and she trusted his fellow Djinn even less.
She’d restlessly prowled the room while alone and inspected corner of space. There wasn’t much to it—a few pieces of furniture, the armoire and a few decorations. She didn’t know what she looked for. A weapon, perhaps. A clue to her freedom—and that wasn’t through the doorway. Two huge, dark-suited Djinn guarded the portal. They’d snarled at her when she’d opened it, hoping against hope that it was unattended. No such luck. She was trapped with no weapon—well, almost. She’d secreted a sharp knife in a pocket of the dress before a pair of young female Djinn had come in earlier to clean up the mess Tawren had made in his spate of anger. She doubted she’d have much chance to use it, but if he came close again, she’d jab him with it. Well, she prayed she would. She’d never stabbed anything, let alone another living being.
Desperation drove Meda. Tawren seemed determined to claim her; she wanted nothing more than to leave this freezing tomb and him. Especially him. He’d killed Lucan.
What if she could escape this place and alert the Dragons to its presence? They’d want retribution for their fallen brother. She’d have a hand in avenging his murder.
Tawren’s entrance startled her from her fantasy of bloody revenge. She darted behind the settee, wanting that barrier between them. He glared at her as he firmly shut the door. His face twisted into a sneer, and he sent out a spout of energy, blasting the piece of onyx furniture into a shower of fragmented stone.
She gasped, covering her face to protect it from the shards plinking to the floor around her. His boots crunched on the black pebbles as he approached her, with no heed to the precious stones crushed between his feet and the rock floor. His hands closed painfully on her arms, and he yanked her against his chest.
“Enough of this,” he bellowed. One hand fisted in her hair as she struggled against him and tugged back her head. His mouth flattened over hers, his cold filling her as he forced apart her lips. She clawed at him as sickness rose inside her. She shook as the revulsion overcame her, blurring her vision as her whole being protested his touch. Her stomach heaved.
He shoved her away, his glower fixed on her. His chest rose and fell heavily. Spinning from her, he went to the door. He reached outside and one of the guards handed him a parcel. Returning to the room, he opened the bundle of fabric to reveal a dark blue dress adorned with sapphires. His gaze challenged her as he draped it over one of the remaining chairs.
“You will be my bride this night. Prepare yourself. If you are not ready when I return, I will let the guards ready you.”
“No,” she whispered. This couldn’t be happening. Her life was as shattered as the onyx. First, Lucan and now she was to be the chattel of this man, a pawn in his personal agenda to eliminate the Dragons.
“I warn you. Do not cross me,” Tawren told her. He approached her once more. He reached out to trail his fingers down her cheek.
Horrified, Meda cringed away.
Frustration darkened his eyes. “You do not need to hate me. I will give you a good life.”
Right. His treasured battle prize, the trophy hard-won from his enemies.
“You would give me no time to grieve?” she countered.
“I’ll replace your sorrow. When we leave this place, I’ll give you fine children and treasures to fill our castle. Let me make you happy.”
She shook her head. Turmoil swamped her. Should she tell him now that she could have no children and meet instant death? Could she still escape? Should she endure the torture of being with him in hope of eventually breaking away or ending his life by her own hand? His life for Lucan’s.
Slicing pain slammed through her core at the idea of sleeping with Tawren. A whimper escaped her as she fought to stay upright. Her legs trembled, and sick goose bumps crawled over her skin.
He frowned. “Prepare yourself.”
She fell to her knees as soon as the door closed behind him. Her arms curled about her abdomen as she doubled over, her forehead to the rough ground. She drew in shuddering breaths as the pain alleviated in his absence. Need filled her, flooding her pussy and confirming she’d indeed gone crazy.
Her hand slid to the knife in her pocket. She’d use it on him or on herself before she’d part her legs for him.
* * * *
Lucan and Maks arrived at the Cameron cavern just before the three PM tour was to begin. They landed in the trees near the campground and shifted back to human form. Stealthily, they moved into position to see the tour enter the cave’s mouth, several of the participants holding lanterns aloft. The Dragons waited several minutes before creeping to the same entrance.
Agitation filled Lucan as they approached. Meda was so close, yet so far. It all depended on him finding that passage without detection by the humans. As the brownish walls closed around them and their eyes adjusted, the memory of Meda in that Djinn’s arms filled his thoughts. What if she preferred the Djinn? She hadn’t appeared to struggle.
Stop it!
Maks ordered, intruding on his thoughts once more.
You have to trust her more than this.
Lucan breathed in a burst of air and cleansed his thoughts.
You’ve seen yourself that she doesn’t bear my mark. Nothing binds her to me,
he replied.
She loves you. You know that,
Maks chided.
He didn’t actually.
I asked her to stay with me and she shied away from it. Without a bond, I don’t know she’ll stay.
Coming close behind him, Maks smacked the back of his head. Hard.
Cut the self pity crap. You’ve lived on her love for four years. Pull up your Dragon panties already.
Lucan growled low in his throat.
You’re a jerk.
Thankful for his scion’s levity, he focused his eyes on the walls. It was merely nerves that brought on this worry about Meda’s faithfulness. In truth, he was far more worried for her safety.
He looked for the familiar indentations he’d seen. The entire wall looked the same. As they walked, it didn’t change. None of it looked like what he remembered.
Suddenly, he heard the tour’s voices coming their way. Grabbing Maks, he yanked him down the first side passage he came to. They pressed flat to the wall. Lights soon bobbed past their hiding spot, but they were deep enough in shadows that no one paused.
Are you sure this is the right place?
Maks asked.
Yes. It’s a sub-cavern beneath this system. I’m sure of it.
He just didn’t know where. He could feel Meda. Her heart seemed to beat in his ears. It eased the ache that had plagued him the past few hours. He hated being apart from her. If anything happened… He sighed. But he was far more worried about her than his own well-being. He’d been the lone wolf for years. If necessary, he could do it again, though with far more of a hole in his heart.
Visualize it,
Maks urged.
We can wander around here for hours or we can take a few minutes and get some direction.
He nodded and closed his eyes then he heard it, the grinding noise of stone against stone. Beckoning to Maks to follow, he allowed his Dragon armor to slide into place then headed for the sound. In the distance, two Djinn came through an opening in the cave wall.
“Stupid humans,” one of them grumbled. “Always traipsing around our caves. No idea how easily we could kill them all.”
“Tawren won’t allow it,” the female with him protested.
“He wouldn’t notice one pudgy human gone missing.”
Lucan wondered if anyone would notice an obnoxious Djinn gone missing. Reining in his loathing, he silently hid in the shadows and watched the pair disappear. His battle wasn’t with them, though his kind called all Djinn enemy.
When he was sure they were gone, he crept forward. This time, he easily found the correct portion of the wall. The notches were shoulder width apart just as he remembered. He slipped his fingers into them and felt for the levers. He didn’t feel anything! Damn it! Would it take magic for the portal to open?
He glanced at Maks.
You have more experience with this than I do…
Maks raised his eyebrows.
With breaking into a Djinn stronghold? Are you crazy? This is the first time for me, too.
Damn.
My guess is we need Djinn blood to activate the lock,
Lucan offered.
It would be the most effective method.
In unison, they looked up the passage in the direction the Djinn couple had taken. The sound of what they were doing, echoed down the passage. Need for Meda gripped Lucan once more. The compulsion was so strong, he feared he’d do anything to get to her—then fuck her no matter the dire circumstances.
Where had that come from? He shook his head, refocusing.
With the Djinn couple distracted, he and Maks could easily overtake them. Distaste filled Lucan. He didn’t have stomach for war and killing, but the pair were the most likely keys into the underground caverns.
No. He wasn’t the cold-blooded beast their enemies accused his people of being.
As nasty as the male sounded, I can’t just kill him,
he told Maks.
Even if their kind nearly killed me.
Murder would do nothing to further the cause of peace, and that was what the Dragons wanted. They didn’t want the constant battle with the Djinn and Elvish.
We could knock through it,
Maks suggested.
Magic might act as the lock, but the door is only as strong as the rock.
Not very subtle. They’d hear us coming.
Not to mention, hapless humans might unknowingly find their way into dangerous Djinn territory.
Our options are narrowing. It’s all quiet up there. Mr. Djinn must be a speed demon.
Lucan jerked his head toward the ceiling. It was tall enough, he and Maks could hide in the shadows and watch the pair reenter—perhaps catch the door before it fully shut.
Unfurling their wings, they flew several feet over the door. They clung to walls and waited. To their surprise, only the male returned.
“Bitch,” he muttered as he fastened his pants. “Try and blackmail me, will you?”
He pressed his hands to the grooves where Lucan had placed his just minutes ago. The door immediately clicked open.
Djinn blood,
Maks said, echoing Lucan’s earlier thought.
But where’s the woman? I have a bad feeling about this,
Lucan replied.
The door swung shut at a speed that could only be magical. There was no intercepting it, not without losing a hand, fingers or a foot.
We need to find the female,
Lucan said, dropping to the floor. Maks leapt down beside him and they raced up the corridor. The woman was sprawled naked and wide-eyed, her throat slit. Her mouth moved as she tried to breathe.
“Can you heal her?” Lucan asked.
“She’s a Djinn…”
“Can you heal her?” Lucan repeated.
Maks sighed. He shifted back to human form. “At least, get some of her blood on your hands so you can open that door.” He looked at the woman. “I expect your help after this, or I’ll kill you myself.” Withdrawing an army knife from the pocket of his jeans, he slit his wrist open and held it against the woman’s mouth as Lucan ran one hand along her throat. He smeared it onto his other hand.
“Drink,” Maks rasped. “If you want to live, fucking drink!”
Slowly, weakly, the female’s lips moved. After a few moments, Maks pulled back and partially shifted so his arm would heal then immediately shifted back. As Lucan watched, his scion’s hands glowed a faint gold color and he ran them over the woman’s neck, as he had Lucan’s body earlier in the day.
Minutes later, she sat up nearly fully healed aside from a dark red mark across her skin. Lucan knew from experience, the scar would fade to nothing within the half hour.
“My name’s Amara,” she murmured. “I was a servant to Lord Tawren.” Her head bowed and she placed a hand over her chest. “I’m at your service.”
“Was that Lord Tawren?” Lucan couldn’t help asking.
“No! That was my lover—ex-lover—Claive. Lord Tawren is…well, he’s actually somewhat…kind.” She glanced over at them then added, “To our people.”
“Why did Claive try to kill you?”
“He’s been stealing. I was trying to convince him he should stop—now, I am cast out. I am as good as dead to them, but I would rather find a way to live out there,” she waved a hand toward the entrance of the cave, “than be dead.”
It’s an archaic society,
Maks told him.
Men are dominant and their women are belongings. Her lover’s action makes her worthless. She can’t be part of their society any longer.
“Amara, will you help us get inside?” Lucan ventured.
“Why?” she asked hesitantly. “I cannot help you hurt my people.”
“My wife has been stolen—”
Her eyes went wide. “Tawren’s woman. I cannot…”