Bride by Midnight (23 page)

***

Lyssa roused to warmth, softness, and a loving touch. Blade’s whispers pierced the blessed darkness that had claimed her, and in response she felt herself grow stronger.

Her eyes fluttered open. Blade smiled down at her, though that smile, illuminated by candlelight, was weak.

“You found me,” she whispered.

“Again,” he added.

“You should have run away, you should have gone to the sea without me...”

“Never.”

With a gasp, she tried to sit up. Blade held her down, gently. “Volker,” she said, her voice weak. “He... did you see him? Did you pass him in the hallway?”

Blade shook his head. “I did not see him.”

“If I didn’t pass out between the time Volker left the cell and you entered, and I don’t think I did, then...”

“Don’t worry about that now. Either you did lose consciousness or he had another way to exit that level. Secret passageways, hidden rooms. I don’t know and I don’t care.” His voice was rough.

“Where are we?” A quick glance told her that they were not in any place she had ever been before. The room was large and finely furnished, and decorated in gold and varying shades of blue. There was a collection of delicately crafted colored glass on a long table against one wall, blue and green and lavender, that caught the light and sparkled.

“In the palace, Level Seven,” Blade said. “The empress insisted.”

She realized that Blade had cut away her ruined frock and had been in the process of bathing her with a wet cloth when she awoke. She remained sticky with blood and was glad that there was no mirror nearby. The sight of her face as she knew it must look now would have given her nightmares for the rest of her life, she imagined. It was bad enough to see the blood and dirt on her legs and arms.

Steam rose from an ornate tub, not far from the side of the bed.

“Help me into that bath,” she said, and Blade wrapped his arms around her and helped her to sit up, swing her legs over the side of the bed and stand. Though she was weaker than she would have liked, she was stronger than she should have been. She thought of Volker and his knife, and clung to Blade’s arm as he helped her to the tub.

She stepped into the hot water, sank down, and leaned her head against the back of the tub, sighing in delight. The water was so wonderfully hot it could not have been waiting for her very long. Nothing had ever felt better. Well,
almost
nothing. “Hold my hand?” She lifted her left hand above the water, and Blade took it. Squeezed. Held on tight.

“You have truly ruined me, you know,” he said, his voice low.

“In what way?”

“Revenge is no longer all I desire. You make me want more. You make me want everything.”

She smiled. “Are you sorry?”

He hesitated before answering. “I haven’t decided.”

She remembered what Volker had said and wondered if the horrible man had realized at the time that he was offering her much needed information. He’d never meant for her to leave that dark cell, had perhaps not even meant for her to survive the night. But she had. “I could not have healed you inside if there had not been a heart to heal. If your soul had truly been beyond saving, no amount of magic would have been sufficient to pull you back from the brink of darkness. I have not changed you as much as you think. I only uncovered what was already there.”

He didn’t respond except to take a clean cloth, wet it and begin to wash her face. His touch was gentle, easy and loving. Though she could not see, she could feel the dried blood being wiped away. Even after the blood was gone, Blade continued to wash her. He obviously liked touching her, and she liked being touched.

Finally she dipped her head beneath the water, wet her hair and allowed Blade to wash it for her. As he massaged her scalp and washed the blood away, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to experience the pleasure his touch roused in her.

She almost told him what she suspected—no, what she knew to be true. They were having a baby. But not here, and not like this. The time would come, though, and soon. Would he be happy or terrified?

She would share the news as they sat before a fire in their own home, whether that home was Hagan’s cottage or a shack elsewhere. She would take Blade’s hand, look into his eyes and tell him, “We’re going to have a baby.” Whether he was happy or horrified, she would kiss him and make it all better. It was her place to do just that.

She was no longer angry with her father and Sinmora for not telling her about their own baby. The time for the sharing of such news needed to be... right.

When she stepped from the tub, the water she left behind was pink and soapy, but she was clean once more. And stronger than she’d been when she’d stepped into her bath. Blade took a large thick towel and dried her body. Slowly, with gentle hands and a loving touch. How someone so large could be so gentle, she could not imagine. When her body was dry he rubbed the towel in her hair until it was no longer dripping wet. She sat on the side of the bed, and he reached for a dress that was laid out on a massive wing chair. It was not her dress, she had never seen it before, but she recognized the fabric. It was a lovely shade of gold; it shimmered in the light. She never wore such bright colors. Wearing that dress she would not be able to blend into the crowd. People would look at her. They would stare.
Bad Luck Lyssa. Witch
.

“Not yet,” she said, and Blade dropped the fine dress and turned to her. “Comb my hair?”

He sat beside her on the bed and did as she asked, gently combing the knots away, one narrow strand at a time. By the time he was done her hair was almost dry. It fell over her shoulders, damp and waving, when he set the comb aside.

“Make love to me?”

The question surprised him. “But you were...”

“When we’re together, when we’re connected, I grow stronger. Nothing will make me heal faster than making love to you.” And it was more than healing, she knew that now. She and Blade were incomplete alone, but together... together they fit like two pieces of those intricate wooden puzzles her father sometimes sold in his shop.

Blade placed a hand, large and warm, beneath her belly button. Lyssa held her breath? Did he know about the baby? Did he somehow just
know
, the same way she did? But his hand didn’t linger there. It moved lower, slowly, surely. He spread her thighs and stroked her where she was already wet for him.

“I should have known you would find me.”

“Yes, you should have,” he whispered as he kissed the side of her neck. For a few wonderful moments she relaxed in his arms and let him arouse her. Not that she’d needed much in the way of arousing. Neither did he, she noted when she reached out to caress him.

“I once wondered how you managed to walk down the street with this hard length between your legs. I understand now that it isn’t always so, but I still find it... fascinating.”

She removed his shirt, taking her time, running her hands over his chest and arms as they were revealed to her. He was so hard all over. Once he had been hard inside and out, but now... now he knew love. Amazingly, impossibly, he loved her. Would it last? Was it real? Those were questions for another time. Right now, at this moment, it was real enough.

He stood by the side of the bed to shuck off his boots and pants, and then he was in bed beside her. She loved the feel of his bare skin against hers, loved the image of her pale skin pressing against his tanned flesh. He spread her legs and teased her again, his fingers dancing around and then inside her.

“From a dark alley at midnight to a room in the imperial palace,” she whispered in his ear. “We have come far in a short period of time, love.”

Blade rolled her onto her back, and then he was inside her. With every stroke, pleasure and power grew. Soon it didn’t matter if they were in an alley or a palace. All that mattered was the strength of their bonding, the pleasure they brought to one another. The love. The love was most important of all.

Any lingering pain she might have suffered faded. With love and pleasure, Blade wiped the nightmare that was Miron Volker from her mind. How had she lived without this? Without
him
?

And then there were just the two of them and the way their bodies fit together. Pleasure grew. It teased her; it enveloped her.

Lyssa climaxed and screamed, not caring who might hear. Release whipped through her body, as if a thousand golden threads pulled and danced inside her. She felt Blade’s release, savored it as she had savored her own.

He collapsed atop her, cradled her in his hot arms. “I do love you, you know,” she whispered.

He did not respond, and she was not terribly surprised. Love had not been in his plans; it was likely more of an annoyance to him than it was to her. But she was hurt. A little. She shouldn’t be, she should understand, but the heart wasn’t always practical. The heart didn’t respond to reason.

Maybe, like her, Blade wondered what was real and what was magic.

Chapter Seventeen

Princess stood at the open window and howled. Father had ignored her requests for an audience for
hours
, and now it was too late. The witch and the blade were here, and there would be no stopping them now.

She turned to face her sisters. “We do not need Minister Volker to take what is rightfully ours.” She would not call him Father, not ever again. “He’s delayed too long, and now our enemies are stronger than ever.” That was all the explanation that was necessary. Her sisters knew what she knew; they shared thoughts, knowledge, fears.

Princess stared at Runa, but only for a moment. That one could hide too much, she kept her own secrets. It was alarming, it was a worry, but for now they needed one another. They had no one else.

“How can we escape?” Runa asked, too meekly for one so powerful. “We are too far off the ground to leave by the window, and the door is only opened once every three or four days for feeding.”

Princess was tired of sharing nourishment with two others. The power she took in was insufficient. Volker was probably keeping them weak on purpose. Was he afraid? He should be.

She wanted to be fed well and often. Otherwise, how would she reach her full power and become the leader she was meant to be?

“We’re due for a meal, are we not?” Princess looked at Runa, who was outwardly the weakest of the three of them, the quiet one, the one least likely to be seen as a threat. It was embarrassing, that a Ksana could be so timid. “Tell the sentinels that you’re starving and in need of immediate nourishment.” After the death of one of their own, they would not even speak to Princess through a closed door, much less open it to her. “Tell them Divya and I are asleep, but you cannot sleep because your hunger is too great.” She smiled. “Tell them last time I refused to share.” They would believe that.

But Runa didn’t move toward the door. She was uncertain still.

Princess looked to Divya and sent a silent communication. Without further prodding, the more obedient sister moved to the closed door. In a deceptively sweet voice, she crooned, “When will we feed again?” Then, in an exaggerated whisper, she added, “Princess will not share, and I am so very hungry.” When no one answered, she said, “Father will be displeased if I die from hunger.”

After a short pause a male voice responded, “I will see to it.”

“Soon,” Divya said, her voice almost pathetic as she gave Princess a wicked smile.

Runa said, “You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?”

“How else can we expect to escape?” Princess argued. “We’ve been replaced as Volker’s favorites, you do realize that, don’t you? Can’t you feel the others, so near? A shifter, a seer who whispers in his ear, a fire-starter. They are not as strong as us. They are more... malleable. More obedient. Ksanas are not easy to kill, but the man who dared to call himself our Father is searching for a way to do that right now. He brought the witch and the blade into the palace. Beneath our very feet, they grow stronger. I warned him. I told him what had to be done, but did he listen to me? No. He does not deserve our loyalty.” She would kill Volker herself, if she could, but he was wary of her and always kept his distance. The best immediate solution was escape. “Our time will come, Runa. You can be a part of the coming revolution, or you can die with the rest of those who oppose us.”

Emotions warred on Runa’s face. “I don’t want to die.”

She also didn’t want to kill, and that was the problem.

Long hours passed before the sentinel returned. Runa sat upon her bed, unnaturally still the entire time. Divya sang, repeating over and over a pretty tune of a love she would never know. Love was not for their kind. Princess did not make that argument with her; for the moment Divya was happy, dreaming of freedom and what tomorrow might bring. Why should she rob her of that joy?

Princess looked onto the street below, using her increasing powers to reach beyond this palace to others of her kind. Once she escaped, she would find them. Not for the first time, she wished that she had made that escape days ago.

As the night grew long, she began to think their ruse was a complete failure. Escape would come, but not tonight. And then the sentinel at the door whispered, “Are you still there?”

Divya danced to the door on bare feet. “Yes.” Her voice was soft, seductive. “Step back,” the sentinel said. “I have a beggar for you.”

Divya did step back, but not far. Princess stood to the side as the door cracked open. A very confused and very drunken man in rags was thrown into the room, but before the sentinel could close and lock the door, Princess reached out and grabbed his arm. Her slender fingers gripped tightly. She yanked him into the room and threw him to the floor before he could shout and raise an alarm. As he hit the ground the breath left him so he was incapable of calling for help, not that anyone was close enough to hear, and then Princess was on top of him.

She caught his gaze and held it. He was a large man, but he was mentally weak, and that glance alone was enough to capture him. This sentinel was not much older than she. He might be seventeen or eighteen. He had smooth skin, a slender body, long, fine brown hair that might have a touch of red by sunlight. She would never know.