Firebrand (11 page)

A voice rose from behind her. “Do you have the payment?”

Recognition and relief spread over her like a cleansing rain. “You are the one they call Plim?”

“I am.”

Using her acuity, Teezal could see him. A troll, his skin was rough and pale, his clothes green and simply sewn. Taller than most of his kind, the top of his head came to her shoulders. His mud-colored hair twisted into four braids that rest near his thick neck. She furrowed her brow sensing his essence. It seemed guarded, confirmed by his frequent scrutiny of anyone seeming to approach.

“He’s here,” the shadowy figure warned. “I know you can feel him, as can I.”

“Then we must conclude our business quickly. Before we are discovered.”

“Agreed.”

He led her to the far corner where a few individuals dressed in black appeared to fade into the inky paint that had been swirled onto the wall. The band on the makeshift stage finished a song and immediately began another, this one more rough with a thumping bass beat that seemed to vibrate through everything in the packed room. A few people around them began to dance.

“Humans,” Plim spat out, clearly annoyed by the gyrations of those around him, “such vile creatures. Look how they move, as though they were possessed. The race has not come far from the ancestors who nearly lost their world through temptation in the Garden.”

“Then why do you fight to save them?” Teezal volleyed.

“Because to conquer them is to ultimately dilute the bloodlines, an even more vile thought than living alongside them in their ignorance of us and our ways.” He held out his gnarled hand, palm upward, into which Teezal dropped a weighty blood-red velvet bag. He bounced it up and down a few times before apparently satisfied with its contents.

“Gold nuggets are of no use to you in the upworld,” she reminded him.

“But it will buy loyalty in my realm.”

A young man with eyes rimmed in black to match his flowing dark hair noticed the pair as he passed. “Great outfits,” he said, a toss of his head showing his multiple piercing. He fingered the hood of Teezal’s velvet robe. “I saw something like this in a Goth Shop on Canal Street.”

Plim reacted immediately, ramming his shoulder into the man’s side and pushing him away. “Be gone, human scum. Do not touch the robe of one who is trying to save you.”

The young man staggered backward before regaining his balance. “Be cool, little dude, I’m not rolling up on your woman, though I can see why she’d prefer a taller specimen,” he challenged, his stance wide set ready for a fight.

Teezal gently touched his cheek. “Continue on your way. There is nothing for you here.” She smiled as he turned and blended back into the crowd.

“He will not remember he saw us,” she assured her companion.

Plim’s eyes moved back and forth in a wary track as he carefully scanned the throng. “The Master. He comes closer. We must hurry.” He pulled Teezal deeper into the shadows. “Marcus Drake has been taken to the ice caves in the place of origin. He is forced to seek the Sword of Shadows alongside other captive humans guarded by soldier trolls. Once the sword is located, Gorash plans to use the Drakeman as a means to get the human sword. It is well known which human family guards it. Also well-known is the their weakness of compassion. Gorash is certain that if the Drakeman’s life is in danger, the Sword of Adam will be relinquished.”

Teezal closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, a pang of compunction gripping her. “No human life will be exchanged for the sword. A far greater need presses.”

“The tri-bred. Does she know of this mandate?”

“No but as she comes to understand and accept her destiny, she will see the obligation of sacrifice.”

“The Sword of Light. Is it secure?”

“For the moment, it is safe. Hidden. The capture of Marcus Drake presents a problem as well as a solution. He knows of the gravity of the Triad, so perhaps he will be the means to the end.”

“Is the human clever enough to realize if he finds the sword before he is rescued, he must not let Gorash know or all is lost?”

“He is.”

“I pray you are right.” Plim suddenly cocked his head in an abrupt jerky motion. “The Master is close.” His voice dropped to a raspy whisper. “You must go. He’s hunting. I can smell the musk of his excitement.”

* * * * *

Her feelings for David were truly a complication, Amber thought, sipping the soft drink the heavily tattooed waitress brought her. The flashing lights played on David’s face creating enticing shadows around his eyes, making him look heavy-lidded as though they had just made love. She reached out and traced his mouth with her forefinger wishing it were her lips.

David took her hand in his. “Don’t,” the word sounding more like a plea than a request. “You have no idea what you do to me when you touch me like that.”

“Show me,” she whispered.

With a groan he could not smother, he pulled her to standing and into his arms. When their bodies met, she felt a slow smile spread over her lips in response to the feel of the primal way his body had responded to her touch.

She let out a long sigh, her warm breath caressing his neck. Her lips followed. She nipped his skin and felt him shudder in response. Suddenly he stiffened and moved her away from him with a firm, yet gentle shake.

“Amber, I can’t afford to get distracted and let my guard down. You belong to the Triad now. We mustn’t lose sight of that”

Rebuffed, Amber’s anger mixed with embarrassment. “I belong to no one,” she countered. “Least of all a ritual that, until I find my father, I want nothing to do with.”

“Dammit, Amber, we don’t have a choice.”

“We always have choice, David.”

“No, we don’t. Not before. Not now. Maybe not ever.”

“I won’t accept that.”

“I had to. You will too.” His broad shoulders slumped in a sign of defeat. “I was assigned to you, Amber. Before I met you, I knew everything about you. I learned about your parents, you real parents and your upbringing in the human world. I was shown your face as a reflection in calm water, as an apparition in rippling air, as an image placed in my mind. All to learn. All because it was my duty.”

Her eyes opened wide. “You only pretended to be interested in me when we did meet?”

He moved closer to her and cupped her cheek with one hand. “I wanted you the first moment I saw you.”

“Because you had no choice.”

He ran his finger along her cheek. “Because, though you were my duty, I had already fallen in love with you before we even met.” He ran his hand slowly down her neck to her shoulder. Pulling her to him, his hand continued down her back, following the curve of her spine, his fingers leaving a tingling like being singed by a fire in their wake. Then suddenly he heaved a sigh and pulled back. His shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. Amber. I shouldn’t cultivate what can never be.”

“The hell it can’t.” She threw her arms around him, her hands pressing against the back of his head.

He tried to resist her. His lips trembled, then parted and he slid his arms around her waist pulling her closer. When his tongue divided her lips and slipped inside, she opened her mouth wider to accept him and he fed from her like a man starving to death. She heard a groan and couldn’t be sure if it was his or hers. Her blood crawled like molten lava through her veins, burning a path to her heart.

Finally, when her head was spinning so hard she could hardly stand, he lifted his head away and whispered, “This will only lead us to the same temptation that began the fall of the Garden, Amber.” He pushed the hair away from her face. “We better find Teezal. At least with her around, we both have a bit more control.”

* * * * *

Eric Sinclair inhaled deeply. The aroma, human aroma, of lust and sex hung thick in the air. Another breath and he caught a hint of other scents. Trolls were here, as were fairies, orcs and imps. Not many. Just enough to taint the air and weaken the smell of women in want. But one scent rose above the others.
She
was here. He was sure of it.

His skin prickled. There wasn’t much time. He needed to find her, before The Taking, even if it meant the hunger building between his legs would go unsatisfied for the first evening in a long time.

He walked through the crowd, his dark shirt molding his back, his pants tight across his thighs. As he crossed the dance floor, a few women engaged him in a provocative movement of a woman’s body against a man’s. Other nights, other times and he would have them one by one but this was not just another night. She was in his arena now, among faceless, oblivious bodies that would not notice one being taken.

Then suddenly she was there. In front of him. Snaking through the crowd, attached only to the one leading her by a hand. Foolish, he thought.

In a movement too fast for a human eye to see, it became his hand on hers, him leading her to the limits of the shadows on the edge of the room.

And she became lost to her human companion as the mass of undulating bodies closed around them.

Amber became aware of being pulled away from David. Before she could protest, she fell against a hard muscular body and felt arms surround her. Startled, she looked up into a newly familiar face staring down at hers with delight.

“Dance with me, Amber.”

“Mr. Sinclair!”

“Eric,” he corrected.

“What are you doing here?”

He pulled her into the music, her body soft and fluid against his. “I could ask you the same question,” he replied, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of her corporal essence.

She looked around him into the room’s blackness for David but only saw indistinct shapes. “I’m here with friends.” The music had become low and seductive. Was it her imagination or did her body seem to want to mimic the sway of Sinclair’s as he moved to the raw beat that pounded the air.

“You seem to have lost them.” Sinclair noted, his hand slipping lower down her back, pressing her round hips deeper into his hard edges. “So, dance with me,” he repeated.

“I’m not a very good dancer.”

His body moved against hers, urging her to not resist. “Maybe you just haven’t had the right partner.”

Without reason her hips mirrored his, moving with rhythm to the heady beat of bass and drums. She tried to ignore the strange pull she felt but in his arms, his body grinding against hers, every ounce of common sense she owned was slowly vanishing, replaced by a primal force she found difficult to control.

Around them, strobe lights flashed, adding staccato to the rhythm and making the air crackle with sensuality as they moved in unison against each other. She could feel his breathing come harder and heavier, his erection hardening against her thigh. She lifted her head and found her mouth just a fraction of an inch from his. If she rose up, just a bit, their lips would touch.

Like the buzz of flies a voice inside her suddenly rose above the primal sensations accosting her.
Be strong
. Reaching down with every ounce of strength she owned, she grabbed onto to the words and held fast.

“David,” she cried out, “Where are you.” She tore her gaze away from Eric’s entrancing orbs looking for her love, the man who owned her heart and her soul.

“Come with me, Amber,” Eric baited. “I could show you wonders he could never begin to imagine.”

“No,” she countered, pulling away as much as he allowed it. “I can’t I don’t know you.”

At first he did not respond and she wondered if he heard her or if her reply had been muffled against his chest or drowned out by the throbbing music. “But I know you,” he finally said.”

“How?” she pulled away half expecting him to release her but instead he pulled her back to him.

Before she knew what he was doing, he’d moved her through the crowded dance floor and into the darkness at the edge of the huge room. In a place filled with people, he found a small, dark alcove completely empty. He pushed her up against the wall and kissed her, his mouth beginning a hungry seduction of hers, pausing only enough to plunder and taste before feasting again. His hands moved down her sides, catching her hips and locking them to his and her eyes closed, shutting out the flashing light and explosions of color that burst around them.

Like a rumble of thunder, his voice slashed through the cloud forming inside her head. “
Give yourself to me, Amber. Willingly
.”

She felt a sharp pain as his teeth pierced the tender flesh of her lower lip before he took it into his mouth in a sucking motion. As blood flowed from her into him, she began to weaken as though energy was being pulled from her and feeding him.

“No!” she cried, her eyes flying open. Gathering what strength remained, she pulled free. “I shouldn’t be doing this.” She pressed her hand to her mouth, feeling the warm trickle of her own blood.

“Why not?” He growled, grabbing her more firmly around the waist and pulling her back. He moved his mouth to the soft spot near her ear as he ground his hips into hers. “Give yourself to me. You want this. I can smell it.”

“No, I don’t. Not with you.” She shoved away from him with all her strength just as a flash of white light discharged in front of her, making her shield her eyes with her forearm and recoil from its heat. When the light grayed, she lowered her arm and found that Eric Sinclair had vanished.

“Whoa! Great pyro!” someone shouted as the crowd exploded into cheers and applause. The band responded with a throbbing guitar run.

“Amber!” David’s voice rose above the din.

Amber felt him grab her wrist. She spun into his arms. “David, thank God.”

“Baby,” he said, running his hands over her face. “I looked for you everywhere. It wasn’t until the light flashed that I could see you.”

“What happened? Where’s Eric?”

David’s hands closed around her upper arms. “Why? was he here? Well never mind him. Are you okay?”

She nodded. “I’m fine.” She looked into David’s eyes. Even as the darkness closed around them again she could read his pain.

“What were you doing with Sinclair?”

“Nothing. David, I’m sorry.”

She saw the muscles along his chin move as he clenched his teeth against what he might say. One hand released her upper arm, the other held fast. He traced her swollen lips with his fingertips and felt the small wound. “What happened?”