Darkness Comes (11 page)

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Authors: A.C. Warneke

BOOK: Darkness Comes
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*****

 

Confused and disoriented, Malorie jolted out of the Aradian’s memory, her spine slamming against the back of the chair she was sitting on. As it tilted precariously backwards, she flew out of the seat, barely aware of her surroundings: the small room, the falling chair, a nearly dead plant on the table. There was something wrong with her; she didn’t feel human. It was as if a feral creature had taken over her body and she was no longer in control of herself.

Mindlessly, her heart skipping erratically in her chest and her breathing too shallow, she looked around the confined space with wild eyes, desperate to release some of the energy that consumed her, desperate to find her equilibrium so she could think clearly once again. Her eyes landed on the plant and acting on instinct, she thrust her hands into the soil and let go.

Releasing the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding, she closed her eyes in pained relief as calmness flowed into her. After a moment, she felt the tickle of a fragrant leaf brushing her face and she smiled, once again human. Once again Malorie.

A soft gasp brought her out of her reverie and her eyes shot open and she saw the black haired man standing behind lush green foliage. The nearly dead plant was bursting with life, filling the small room with its exotic flowers and scent. Perhaps, she might have gone a bit too far in trying to find her balance. With an absurd measure of embarrassment, she yanked her hands from the soil and hid them behind her back, slowly backing up and sitting on the chair that hadn’t quite managed to fall over.

What the hell just happened? She had been captured by the Aradian, stumbling along behind him as he set a brutal pace. But then he stepped into the deepest shadow Malorie had ever seen. It yawned open and seemed to absorb all of the light surrounding it; a black hole. Inside the darkness, colors clashed and danced around her, sound was a strange cacophony of nothingness; if there was a smell, Malorie couldn’t have said for certain what it was: all of them or none of them. It was alien and uncomfortable and unending.

And when it finally stopped, her head continued to spin and her belly lurched in protest. The Aradian had released her and she collapsed to the ground, unable to support her body. On her hands and knees, she lost everything that was in her stomach and wanted to die. But then she saw the diamond covered Aradian step out of thin air, her son cradled in his arms, asleep and so innocent.

Reaching for her son, she used the last of her strength to gasp his name, “Toby.”

And then the world faded to black and she wound up here, in a small room with the Aradian’s memory swamping her head. Closing her eyes, she inhaled slowly, trying to keep the rising panic at bay. It would be foolish to give into panic now; there were no more plants to siphon off some of her nerves and she had to find Toby.

“Welcome back,” the hauntingly familiar voice wound its way through her senses, making her body clench in fear and excitement. Handing her some wet toilettes, he looked incongruously contrite. “Forgive me for putting you through that; it was thoughtless of me to keep you awake when I travelled through the Netherspace.”

She understood the words he was speaking but she was having difficulty understanding what they meant. Wiping her hands off automatically, she tried to grab one of the zillions of thoughts clamoring around in her head while they slid out of her grasp as quickly as she caught one. Without thinking, she squeezed her eyes shut and asked, “Why didn’t you do that when the vampires attacked the village?”

There was a long silence and she opened her eyes to see him standing over her, watching her with the strangest expression, part horror, part awe. Cocking her head to the side, she met his gaze, “What?”

Shaking off whatever thoughts he had, he wiped all expression from his face. Nodding towards the plant, he inclined his head, “I am impressed; I have never seen so much potential in a Breeder.”

She was absurdly pleased by his compliment and completely terrified, torn between clashing desires. What had he called her? A Breeder? Isn’t that what those poor villagers had been? The insatiable desire to ask him more about the village, the child that had been born, roared to life inside her and she had to bite her tongue to prevent the questions from spilling out. She couldn’t afford to learn more about him, to discover his sorrows and his love for his son; she would have no defenses left.

Oh, but she was curious!

She concentrated on the fact that he had kidnapped her, that he had marked her and kidnapped her; that he had taken her son, had probably taken her father as well. He was not noble and good; he was a monster who… who lost everything to vampires, just as she had. The image of the broken woman scorched her brain, her lifeless gray eyes staring out of a beautiful face. There was something so familiar about her, but of course Malorie couldn’t know who she was; she had been long dead before Malorie was even born. “What was her name?”

At his blank expression, she clarified, “The mother of your son; what was her name?”

“How do you know about Varick?” he asked, pain lancing his voice.

Malorie shook her head, unable to explain the memories she had experienced. What if he considered her a threat for getting inside his head? Maybe it had something to do with his blood that had mingled ever so briefly with hers; that would be weird but something worth exploring later. "Her name?”

Shaking off the despair that seemed to have gripped him at the mention of his son, he shrugged his shoulders, “I never bothered to learn it.”

She stared at him for a long moment, astonishment making her mute. Finally, she stammered, “That’s… horrible.”

With a wry grin, he replied, “She wasn’t mine to keep, Malorie; only to borrow.”

“You know my name,” she said softly, stupidly.

His soft laugh warmed her to her very toes and it was a struggle to remain immune to him; as if she had ever been immune to him. “Of course I do. Malorie means ‘ill-fated.’ It is a peculiar name for a child.”

“But the I.D. in my purse was fake,” she blurted out, slamming a hand over her mouth to prevent any more faux pas from slipping out and ignoring his words. His laughter this time was deeper, richer and she felt it in her soul. She was in so much trouble. Desperate to change the subject, afraid to hear the answer, she had to know, “Where my son?”

“He’s safe,” Compassion replaced his humor. “He’s being well guarded.”

Her heart kicked against her chest and anguish threatened to consume her; they had Toby; the need to protect her son overpowered her infatuation with the Aradian. She needed to escape, but how could she without her son? Swiftly, a plan formed in her head, a foolish plan with a very, very slim chance of success, but it was all she had. Letting the desperation she felt seep into her voice, she asked, “Can… can I see him?”

“Not yet; there is something that you must do for me,” her Aradian said; his voice deeper, huskier. She knew that tone; it had beckoned her so often in her dreams, whispering erotic words in her ear as he….

No, he wasn’t her Aradian; he was just the bastard that set this chain of events into motion. If it weren’t for him, she would be back at the nursery, her son by her side as they coaxed blooms into opening, as she filled orders and Toby played with his sword and his trucks. She was going to slam her fist into his beautiful face once more when she was free.

“He’s just a little boy and doesn’t understand what is happening,” she implored, squeezing her hands into fists at her sides so as to not punch him. “He must be terrified and confused; please, let me see him.”

“Will you give me what I want?” he asked softly, seductively, his green eyes lingering appreciatively on her chest, his masculine musk swirling around and seducing her senses.

She paused as her heart raced in her chest; he was going to allow her to see her son. It didn’t matter what it cost her, she would see her son. Slowly, she nodded, “Yes.”

“Did you think it would be that easy?” he chuckled harshly. The humor and seductive manner vanished just as quickly as they came, quite taking her breath away, “After the difficulties you have caused me?”

“Let my son go and you can fuck me right here, right now,” she said through gritted teeth, trying to tell herself that she was only offering sex in order to get Toby, not because she actually wanted to have sex with him. With as much venom as she could muster, she spat, “I’ll spread my legs and you can plow away until your seed is planted deep in my belly. Isn’t that what you want?”

She heard him chuckle once more, a dark and dangerously erotic sound. Her skin heated and the sensation of being in his arms flittered through her; she wanted to smack her forehead. His voice was amused as he told her, “Now, my delectable Breeder, the child has proven to be worth more to me than a vanilla fuck. I’ll not take you until you are begging me to fuck you, until you are so lost in passion that you have to have me.”

“Fine,” she acquiesced coldly. If he would only let her see her son, she would do anything for him. Her soul ached to see Toby and if he was in there she would have the chance she needed to escape and though the outcome would likely result in her capture and possible death, she was willing to take it. Freedom was worth fighting for; dying for. Licking her lips, she lifted her head and met his eyes, “Let me see my son.”

She heard the click of the lock and every fiber of her being held its breath. Watching intently, she saw the door open and a moment later Toby stumbled in and the door closed behind him. It didn’t lock. Her legs gave out and she fell to her knees, “Toby.”

His expression brightened and he crossed the room, throwing his arms around her neck. “Mommy!”

Laughing, crying, she wrapped her arms around her little boy and hugged him to her, never wanting to let him go. Had she really thought she would have been able to survive without him? He was her everything. "Toby, my heart; I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” he gushed. “But the people who have been watching me have been very nice; they asked me to make a plant grow and then they gave me cookies and stuff.”

Mal did not like the sound of that; were they trying to poison him? She hoped not; she hoped that what the Aradian said was true, that Toby was more valuable to them than she was; they wouldn’t hurt him if he was so important. And what sort of test was it to make a plant grow? She was grateful that her son inherited her green thumb. Holding her son, she looked up at the devastating Aradian, “Could I have a few minutes with my child?”

He bowed his head in an astonishingly old world gesture. “As you wish.”

As soon as he left, Malorie hugged Toby closer, and sat back down in the chair, holding her son on her lap. “Where’s your grandfather? Is he with you?”

“No,” Toby shook his head, twisting around and relaxing back against her chest. “They took him, too, but he was gone when I woke up from my nap.”

Damn it. “Baby,” she said, putting her mouth against his ear so she could talk even softer. Her brain was racing at a million miles an hour. “Can you draw a map of where we are?”

He nodded once and she smiled that he knew the importance of what she was asking. As he drew an imaginary map on the table and she studied it, they talked about nothing important. Hugging him closer when he finished, she whispered, “Don’t be afraid, Toby.”

“I’m not.” It seemed like a fairly straight forward route from where they sat to the exit. Of course it was impossible to know how many Aradians and vamps stood between them and freedom but she had already known that it was going to be an impossible escape. It was just one she would have to try.

“Listen to me Toby,” she whispered in his ear once more, kissing his cheek and knowing that time was running out. He stilled and she knew he was listening. “We’re going to make a run for it and if I can’t carry you, you have to keep up. Promise me that you will keep up.”

He looked at her over his slender shoulders, his brown eyes solemn, serious, “I will.”

Smiling at him, willing him the strength and courage they were going to need, she murmured, “Turn around and hug me again.”

He did as he was told and she took a moment to hug him to her, wrapping her arms around his tiny body. Closing her eyes, she held him, “Ready?”

He nodded, pressing his face against her neck. “I love you, mommy.”

“I love you, too, baby,” she whispered, refusing to think about what it was she was about to do. As soon as the door opened, she flew off the chair with a slight grunt; he was heavier than he used to be but it didn’t matter; his weight was a comfort. Sprinting to the door, she rammed her shoulder into the man who stood there and ran blindly into the hall, following the map that Toby had drawn, desperate for escape.

She was surprised that they didn’t run into anyone else as they made their way through the enormous house, though perhaps they weren’t expecting her tenacity. Her heart ached to be leaving her father behind but she would figure out a way to get him back after she got Toby to safety. She was sure that there were enough Blade Soldiers willing to risk all to take on a hoard of Aradians to rescue the man who had been their leader.

And perhaps she shouldn’t have been so confident in her ability to escape because the Aradian with black hair and green eyes stood before the front door, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his expression formidable, even if he was smiling. Skidding to a halt, she looked around for another exit, a window or… something.

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