Darkyn's Mate (#3, Rhyn Eternal) (8 page)

“He lost no time in turning you,” Wynn said.
“Come in.” He opened the door wider to display a chamber the same
size as hers but outfitted as if for a hospital.

Deidre entered uncertainly. A girl in her
mid-teens lay still on the hospital bed central to the room. Half
her face was disfigured.

“Double-bound? I didn’t even know it was
possible.” Wynn was unable to hide his surprise this time.

Unwilling to admit to the bonds let alone
talk about them, Deidre focused on the girl.

“Is this …”

“His daughter.”

Deidre wasn’t certain what to think at the
sight of the girl on the bed. She drew nearer, eyes sweeping over
the medical equipment in the room. The girl appeared to be
sleeping, her breathing deep and steady.

“What’s wrong with her?” she asked.

Wynn took up position in a seat near the
bed. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his face was
drawn.

“Sasha, one of my sons hurt her. He was on
the Council until shortly after I died-dead, after which he
betrayed the Immortals to work for the Dark One, Darkyn’s
predecessor. Darkyn cracked down on him, and Sasha hurt his
daughter.”

“If he fixed me, why can’t he fix her?”
Deidre frowned, disturbed by the idea of some psycho hurting the
girl. Darkyn’s daughter appeared frail and gaunt, her skin a shade
or two darker than the white pillow beneath her head. The damage
done to half her face caused horrible scarring that left her
features lopsided and her skin knotted. The other side of her face
displayed facial features that were heavy rather than feminine,
resembling her father’s.

“I’m assuming it was because a deal went
bad. I guess the time this all happened was when Darkyn took on the
Dark One. He wouldn’t say much else, other than she cannot be fixed
with the magic of Hell,” Wynn explained. “She’s in a stasis right
now, caught between life and death. I’ve been charged with curing
her. Or I’ll never leave Hell.”

Deidre felt no pity for him, despite the
circumstances. After what he’d done to her, she wasn’t able to.
Wynn’s eyes fell to her fangs again then drifted down her body.

“He changed you,” he murmured. “You won’t be
leaving here after your deal is up with Past-Death.”

“How do you know about that?”

“I was waiting in the portal room with her
when Darkyn came to tell me I wasn’t leaving,” Wynn said with mild
amusement. “He stripped her deity powers, said she had to earn
Gabriel the same way you did.”

Darkyn did two things that she almost agreed
with. Deidre didn’t think it was a good sign that she cheered on
the Dark One. Did it make her bad, too?

“Lesson learned. Don’t screw over his mate,”
Wynn finished.

“It wasn’t for my sake,” she assured
him.

“He knew exactly what he was doing.”

“Darkyn doesn’t lose. As I learned, my deals
hold the same power of enforcement as his. He was making certain I
win,” she said. “I’m assuming he kept you because you’re the best
surgeon there is. Even if you did use your skills to try to kill
me.”

“I’m not the mate of the Dark One. Those
skills give me a small chance of leaving,” he reminded her.

“I was destined for this,” she returned.
“Past-Death told me how she made me in her image to trick the laws
into making me Gabriel’s mate.” Deidre hugged herself, disturbed.
“She said she made me, used me and was done with me. She traded me
to him, Wynn, like I’m nothing. Maybe I shouldn’t be, but I’m glad
Darkyn stripped her power. Maybe she’ll learn a thing or two about
being human.”

Wynn studied her, warmth in his eyes. “I
don’t know how this all unfolded,” he said. “You truly are an
innocent caught in the politics of the Immortals and the scheming
of deities. You are the last person who deserves to be here.”

“You always say the right thing,” she
murmured. “Even while you were killing me.”

She paused, knowing she shouldn’t ask what
she’d wanted to since finding out what he did. At this point, there
was no reason not to.

“How could you, Wynn?” she asked, with more
emotion than she intended.

“It’s done, Deidre,” he said.

“It’s that simple to you? I mean nothing to
you, like I meant nothing to her? I’m disposable?”

“Deidre,” he stopped then continued with
some effort. “I loved you in this life and the last. I lost you in
both, too, once by the choice of Past-Death and once by my own.
There is no part of me that wishes I couldn’t go back and save you
from this. He won’t let me out of here alive, I don’t think.”

Deidre returned her attention to the girl.
Wynn regretted what he did; he regretted the impact to him more.
Immortals and deities didn’t have the capacity to care for others.
Would she be alone for eternity?

“Can you help her?” she asked.

“I am doing my best. My deal with your mate
is dependent upon me succeeding. He gave me five days.”

“If the magic of Hell can’t cure her, can
yours?”

“Not so far. I’ve tried traditional
medicine” he motioned to the machines lining the perimeter of the
room “and my magic.”

“Poor girl,” she murmured, recalling all her
years of pain and misery with the brain tumor Wynn caused to
expand. Her deal with Darkyn damned her, but also saved her life.
“Is she demon?”

“Half-breed like Rhyn. Demon and Immortal.
Mother is long dead, most likely one of the blood slaves. Darkyn
was known for going through them like tissue paper.”

The reminder of what her mate was made
Deidre nauseous.

“At least I can save other women from that
destiny,” she said. “The mating bond is absolute, isn’t it?”

“It is. Neither mate can have someone else
on the side. Yours is more so. He’s dependent upon you for blood, a
condition that transcends the normal mating relationship.”

She deliberated on this
information. Darkyn was determined to keep her, determined enough
that his
insurance
limited him more than her. He was serious about not
losing.

Wynn was looking at her again, an odd light
in his eyes. It made her uncomfortable.

“He was wise to turn you quickly,” he said
after a long silence. “He can’t harm you now with the double-bond.
Did the transition hurt?”

“He’s never hurt me. Terrify me?
Definitely.”

Wynn’s smile was fleeting. “I don’t suppose
you’ll put in a good - or bad - word for me.”

“No,” she replied firmly. “Your deal is with
him. You made your choices, Wynn.”

“More than fair.”

Deidre.
The summons was quiet. It was accompanied by a
vision of her chamber. She felt compelled to go there.

“I’ll come back,” she said. “Will you tell
me if you need something to help her?”

“Without a doubt.”

Deidre left, troubled, as she returned to
her room. It didn’t make sense that nothing could save the girl, or
that Darkyn was capable of trying to. It meant he cared. Or he was
obligated. She’d learned a lot lately about how obligation held
more sway in the Immortal society than truth or emotion.

Her heart quickened as she entered her room.
The sight of Darkyn’s lean frame was enough for her blood to heat
before his piercing gaze caught hers from across the room.

I am yours.

She hated him. She
needed
him. She couldn’t
navigate through the emotions.

Deidre approached unbidden and stood before
him, wishing she understood him and their bond better. His black
eyes saw through her; his cold features were expressionless. He
scared her, and she touched him instinctively, wanting his cool
energy to help calm her emotions.

“I’m sending you somewhere,” he told
her.

“What? Where?”

“On an emissary mission.”

Surprised, she sought some sign he was
testing her or baiting her again.

“You trust me to go somewhere without making
a deal you can’t live with?” she asked.

“Clever,” he murmured. “You want
something.”

“I won’t make any deals this trip if you
teach me how when I return.”

He considered. “Two conditions. One, what I
teach you can never be shared. Two, there will be no official deals
between you and me. Private deals only.”

“Ones that can’t be enforced, in case you
lose?” she challenged. “You think I’ll beat you eventually?”

“Insurance,” he replied mockingly.

She rolled her eyes at him and dropped her
hand.

“You’ve gotten brave, love.”

“You like a fight, don’t you?”

The light in his eyes was response enough.
It made her heart race.

“Deal or no?” he asked.

“Deal.”

“You’ll be taking a message from me to
them.”

“Really?” She frowned. “What’s the
message?”

“You are.”

Gabriel.
Her first thought was that he was sending her to
Death as a means of torturing her or at least, nailing home the
point that he had won this round with Gabriel.

The slow smile she distrusted spread across
Darkyn’s face. Did he know what she thought? Was it so obvious?

She dropped her gaze.

“You will soon learn that those who lose
deals with me are a desperate lot. They will see you as a target.
Do you remember what I taught you about killing?”

She placed her hand on his heart. He
remained relaxed despite giving her a loaded weapon then telling
her to take the kill shot.

“To summon me, simply say
my name,” he added. Darkyn tipped her chin up to meet her gaze.
“You think I’m sending you to
him
.”

“It would be awkward,” she said in a hushed
voice.

“Then you’ll have to trust me, won’t
you.”

“You enjoy baiting me too much for me to
trust you.”

“So honest, so pure,” he said.

“Don’t mock me,” she said, thinking about
how Fate did the same. “I get it. This is your game. You don’t
lose. You’d send me to Gabriel on a silver platter to get your
point across. I assume that’s where I’m going.”

“You’ll find out.”

Deidre wanted to deck him again. And cry.
And run. She hated that he’d always known exactly what to say to
get to her. From the moment he first offered her the deal that
landed her in Hell, he read her.

Darkyn flicked a nail against the pad of his
thumb. The blood ensnared her senses at once, compelling her
attention to the maroon droplets. Her hunger demanded action. The
wound healed, leaving the drops on his thumb. He pressed the pad to
her lips. They parted instinctively, and she tasted him.

She closed her eyes and shuddered in
pleasure. He’d worked her into a frenzy the night before by
dribbling a similar amount of blood, enough to tease her without
satisfying her. This time, the few drops quelled the hunger and her
distress. It left her calm.

“When you’re finished, call a portal,” he
instructed.

Her eyes opened. His attention was on a
point behind her, and she turned to see a portal waiting.

Deidre’s hand dropped from his chest. This
had to be a test. He was sending her out and expecting her to
return. Did he trust her or assume she knew better than to run?

She ran her tongue over her teeth to capture
the last of his blood. She’d seen how hungry he was last night. He
wasn’t going to let her go for long, since she was his singular
food source.

One of the yellow portals beckoned her.
Deidre entered the shadow world and shivered, her exposed skin
chilled. She glanced back over her shoulder to see Darkyn standing
where she left him, hands clasped behind his back, watching her
with the cold smile that told her there was more going on than she
suspected.

The calm of his blood offering kept her
uneasiness at bay as the portal behind her closed. She hurried to
the one waiting for her and paused. He could be sending her
anywhere.

To Gabriel.

At least, if she saw him, she could
determine which parts of what she felt were real and which stemmed
from the bond. Deidre drew a shaky breath and stepped through the
portal.

She recognized the surroundings. The
Immortals’ stone fortress. She was in the middle of an unfamiliar,
tall hallway. She heard the sound of a weapon scraping a scabbard
behind her and turned.

Red tattoos flashed on the arms of the two
Immortals in the hallway. She didn’t recognize them from her short
stay there. One had his sword raised, the other’s was down. They
scrutinized her.

“Rhyn,” she said, uncertain who else to ask
for.

“Wait here,” one said. “No quick
movements.”

She nodded.

The second put his weapon away and darted
off down another hallway. Deidre waited nervously, uncertain what
to think about the Immortal staring at her. His sword lowered as
the time grew on. The light in his eyes was like that in Wynn’s,
one she couldn’t place. It was almost the fire of desire, yet too
raw.

It made her uncomfortable.

“Fuck.”

Deidre recognized the growl of the
half-demon and faced him. Flanked by the Immortal she knew as Kiki
and two more, Rhyn stood several meters away. The silver-eyed
half-demon was tall and muscular, the air around him rippling with
power. It was the opposite of Darkyn’s, whose was subtle and
calming. Rhyn’s energy made her edgy.

“You’ve been gone, what? Three days? And you
come back with a double-bond to someone new?” He shook his head. He
motioned for the Immortal behind her to leave. “Does Gabe …”

Her sharp intake of breath stopped him.

“Double-bond,” one of those behind Rhyn
said. “What is a double-bond?”

“It’s what the Dark One does when he doesn’t
want his mate disappearing on him,” Rhyn said. “I sensed you
arrive.”

He approached and circled her, pausing
behind her. Self-conscious in front of Gabriel’s closest friend,
Deidre faced him, tilting her head back to meet his liquid silver
eyes.