Dragonfyre (11 page)

Isran pulled a dagger from his waist and cut the bonds binding her wrists before sheathing the weapon. “Come. I’ll take you somewhere more comfortable.” She didn’t fight him when he lifted her in his arms. “You’re wrong,” she said as he walked from the chamber.

“About what?”

“Me being Aimery’s weakness. No woman has ever been his weakness.” One side of Isran’s mouth lifted in a smile. “I’ve seen Aimery with women, Kyndra. I was one of his closest friends. Few women turned his head, and even fewer kept his attention.

I’ve never seen him look at a woman as he looks at you.” His gaze met hers. “The hunger in Aimery’s gaze is absolute. “

Isran couldn’t be right. Kyndra tried to take in a breath and couldn’t. She refused to believe she would be the one thing that could destroy Aimery.

“You can save him,” Isran said. “Remember that.”

She kept her gaze on her hands that clutched his cloak around her. “What makes you think I want to?”

“Because you have the same look in your eyes.”

Was she that obvious? She knew she lusted after Aimery, but it couldn’t be more than that, could it? The emotions filling her were too new to fully understand.

“I’ll do my best to keep him alive,” Isran vowed. “Right now he’s battling himself to stay sane.”

“You shouldn’t have taken me from him.”

“I need to know how far he will go to get to you.”

Kyndra looked at Isran. Was this the same Fae who had stolen a dragon egg and killed a blue dragon? The same Fae who dove into black magic in an effort to take over Thav?

“You control Thav now?”

He nodded. “As of last night. Eldar was much easier to topple than I had anticipated. The magic he had to use in order to take away everyone else’s magic aged him to a wrinkled old man.”

“You don’t plan to make the same mistake?”

Isran chuckled. “Nay. The only one who could have come close to matching me in my power was Lugus before he gave it all up and sacrificed his immortal soul. Now, there is no one.

Once I use the dragon egg, no one will dare.”

Kyndra took in slow, steady breaths as the pain in her face began to double. Each step Isran took was as if someone were hitting her again.

“Sleep, Kyndra,” he whispered.

She tried to keep her eyes open because she needed to know where he was taking her, but his magic was too strong. No longer could she hold off the darkness that pulled at her.

Aimery had screamed Kyndra’s name so many times his throat ached but, with every moment that ticked by and he didn’t hear or see her, he knew Isran had killed her. His rage grew, and with Aimery’s rage was the need for his magic. He knew he was spiraling into insanity, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered without Kyndra.

“Kyndra!” He took in several deep breaths, pulling against the shackles that chained him to the wall. “Kyndra!”

He glanced at the bed and the crumpled sheets where they had lain just hours before. Her body had been a taste of paradise, her lips the sweetest nectar. She had been the woman he had longed to find, the woman he yearned to share his life with.

The door to his chamber opened. He craned his neck to the side, praying it was Kyndra.

Isran stepped into his line of vision and leaned against the wall, his arms folded over his chest.

“You’ve been making a lot of noise.”

“What did you do with Kyndra?” Aimery demanded.

“She’s safe.”

Aimery jerked against his chains. “Where. Is. She?”

Isran pushed off the wall and walked toward Aimery. “She’s resting. There was, ah…a small misunderstanding with the men who took her.”

“What happened?” The thought of Kyndra hurt was like a knife to his belly. The fact he hadn’t been there to help her was even worse.

“The men have been dealt with. As for Kyndra, there will be no lasting harm.”

“She doesn’t have any magic! She can’t heal herself.”

“But I can,” Isran said softly. “And I did. It was minor, Aimery. The man struck her across the face.”

Aimery squeezed his eyes closed.
Kyndra. Ah, gods, I’m sorry.

“Don’t you care what I’m going to do with you?”

Aimery’s gaze flew open. “I don’t give a horse’s arse what you do with me. Just let Kyndra go. Free her, and I will spare your life.”

Isran’s head cocked to the side. “You really believe you can kill me?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Even as your mind slips into insanity because you hunger for your magic so?” Aimery hated that Isran knew what tortures he was going through, but there could be no help for it.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” Isran said as he moved closer. “I have a better use for you than death.”

“I considered you a friend, Isran. A man I called brother. Yet you murdered your own kind and slew a dragon? No Fae would ever dare such a thing.” Isran shrugged. “It’s the seduction of the black magic, Aimery. You’re powerless now, unable to do more than make yourself hoarse as you scream for your lover. Even if I granted your magic back to you, you couldn’t break the chains about your wrists.”

“I will free Kyndra.” The room spun, his mind screaming for his magic. He had to have it. It was the only way to save Kyndra.

“I can give you the means to free her,” Isran whispered in his ear.

Aimery jerked away from him. “I despise you.”

“For now you do. I give it another day or two before you’ll be begging me.”

“Begging you for what?”

“Magic, Aimery. What else?”

Aimery threw back his head and laughed. He was walking a line of madness, the slightest tip and his mind would be gone forever. “You won’t give me anything.”

“That’s right.” Isran tapped his finger on his chin. “You’re fighting your insanity. That’s good. You need to keep fighting it.”

“Let me see Kyndra,” he bellowed and yanked on the chain.

Isran lifted his brows. “I told you, she’s resting.”

“Bring her here, Isran. I need to see her.”

“No warrior such as yourself should have such a weakness, Aimery.” He hung his head, the frustration and despair sapping his energy. The manacles cut into his skin, sending rivets of blood down his arm, but he didn’t care. His throat felt as though a dragon had scratched it, but he didn’t care. He was going daft, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered without Kyndra.

Gods, how he missed her smile, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she got excited. He missed her smell, the feel of her hair in his fingers. He missed her strength, her passion.

He missed her.

Kyndra.

He didn’t believe Isran. Kyndra had left the chamber bound and gagged. Anything could have happened to her. She could be dead now for all he knew. If Isran was lying, Aimery was going to track down the men who took her and kill them painfully and slowly.

Isran was talking, but he no longer cared what he had to say. He was a murderer, a thief

—a liar. No one had ever deceived Aimery so, and it hurt. Isran had been like a brother to him.

Aimery had shown him things, taught him things, he had never done before.

And this was how Isran repaid him.

It was only after the door closed behind Isran that Aimery lifted his head and continued calling for Kyndra. He couldn’t give up hope that she was still alive.

* * * * *

“You’re healed.”

Her gaze swung to the other side of the bed where Isran stood. “You healed me?”

“The pain was too much for you.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he cautioned.

She sat up and noticed that she was clad in a plain cotton gown. “Where am I?”

“You’re still in the castle.” He walked to the foot of the bed and leaned his hands on the footboard. “You’ve been asleep a full day.”

Kyndra noticed the lines of worry on his forehead, the way his lips pressed tightly together and his clenched hands. “What has happened? Is it Aimery? Is he all right?”

“Nay, he’s not all right.”

She threw aside the covers and knelt before him. “What has happened to him?” Isran sighed and ran a hand down his face. “It’s his mind. I fear it’s gone. “

“Take me to him. Now.” She jumped from the bed and walked to the door.

He put a hand on her arm to stop her. “Get dressed,” he said and nodded with his head to the chair. “I’ll wait outside.”

Kyndra jerked off the gown before he had closed the door behind him. She hurried put on the cream gown she had worn the night before. The feel of the soft material made her think of Aimery. She yanked open the door to find Isran waiting for her.

“Why didn’t you use your magic on Aimery?” she demanded as they started walking down the corridor.

Isran shrugged. “Who says I didn’t.”

“Did you?”

He glanced at her. “I told you I didn’t want to kill Aimery.” That didn’t mean he had to save him either. Dread pooled in her belly as she lifted her skirts so she could walk faster. They had just ascended a set of stairs when she heard her name.

Her steps faltered, then slowed as she realized it was Aimery shouting for her.

Her gaze moved to Isran. “How long has he been doing this?”

“Since I took you.”

Kyndra grabbed her skirts and ran down the hall to Aimery’s chamber. She threw open the door to find him chained to the wall, blood caked on his wrists and arms, his head hanging between his shoulders as he continued to bellow her name.

“Aimery.”

“He won’t hear you,” Isran said as he came up behind her. “His mind is gone.” She shook her head. “Nay. He’s too strong.”

Kyndra walked to Aimery and lifted his head in her hands. His eyes were shut, his face haggard. “Aimery. Open your eyes.”

“Kyndra!”

Her heart ached to see him thus. It was as if he couldn’t hear her, or refused to. “Aimery, please!”

When he still wouldn’t open his eyes, she slapped his face, hoping to shock him enough that he would look at her. He didn’t even flinch.

“I told you. His mind is gone.”

“You shouldn’t have let this happen,” she whispered. Tears fell down her cheeks as she stared at the warrior who had vowed to protect her, the man who had showed her what it was like to be loved.

Isran turned her away from him.

Nothing made sense to her anymore. Why would Isran not kill them? Aimery was a threat, a warrior not to be taken lightly. Yet Isran said he didn’t want to kill him. Then why keep him alive? Just because he admired him? That didn’t make much sense to her.

Nay, Isran had to have something else planned.

“You said you were keeping me alive to help Aimery. You knew this would happen.” Isran smiled. “It’s amazing what you can learn from black magic.”

“So you think you can predict the future?”

“Nay. I can see into it, however.”

“Are you sure you aren’t seeing what you want to see?”

He laughed. “Ah, Kyndra. Now I see what attracted Aimery to you. You have a strength of spirit that fairly glows within you. Would you like me to tell you what your fellow priestesses think of your betrayal to their vows?”

Kyndra winced, unable to stop the hurt his words caused. “I knew what I was doing.”

“Nay, you didn’t. It was the magic that drew you in.”

This time she laughed. “Is that what you think? I hate to disappoint you, but I had already decided to give in to my desire for Aimery before we entered the castle. Your magical music only set the mood.”

“You lie.”

The way he held himself still told her he hadn’t liked what he heard. “I’m not. If your black magic is so powerful, why not find out for yourself.” Every time Aimery hollered for her she wanted to cry. His voice was hoarse, barely discernable from the deep timbre she had come to love. He refused to stop, though she knew he must be in pain.

“Let me stay with him,” she begged.

“Nay.”

“Isran, you need me. Let me stay with him.”

Isran looked from her to Aimery before he gave a brief nod and left the chamber. She heard the telltale click as he locked the door. She almost laughed. Where would she be going?

She wasn’t leaving the castle without Aimery, and he was in no condition to go anywhere.

She walked to him and brushed his hair away from his face. “You promised not to leave me. Come back to me, Aimery. I need you.”

“I need you.”

The words echoed in Aimery’s head. He thought he caught the scent of Kyndra, but it was most likely another of Isran’s tricks. How many times had Isran brought in a vision of Kyndra? How many times Aimery thought it was her, only to hear Isran’s evil laugh? It was so many that Aimery no longer trusted his eyes.

He had stopped responding, shutting his eyes and his heart to the beseeching voices that sounded so similar to Kyndra’s. But none of them were her. They might look like her, sound like her, but they didn’t smell like her.

The more powerless he felt, the deeper into his insanity he sunk. He knew and could do nothing about it. He wasn’t sure of Isran’s game. Maybe the bastard just wanted to see how much he could make him suffer.

Aimery almost laughed at the thought. He had endured months of torture at Lugus’ hand when he tried to take over the Fae realm, and not once had Aimery faltered. Yet now, the thought of Kyndra wounded or dying made him ready to give Isran whatever he wanted in return for her freedom.

And that’s when it hit Aimery. Isran wanted something from him. He wanted Aimery to break, to beg for Kyndra’s life. That’s when the son of a bitch would tell Aimery what he wanted.

The question was, how long could Aimery hold out. Already his mind was slipping through his fingers, breaking into tiny fragments that teased him with bouts of lucidity. Just as it did now.

For a moment, he could have staked his life that he smelled jasmine and sunshine. For just a heartbeat, he had dared to open his eyes in the hopes of seeing Kyndra.

And just as soon as it had come, it disappeared.

The illusion Isran had sent to him continued to speak, her soft voice speaking his name, begging him to open his eyes. But Aimery was no fool. He would not succumb to Isran’s baiting.