Embrace the Desire (26 page)

“Revenge against what?” She spat out. “What happened to you that you hate so much, that you hurt so much that you inflict that same pain on whoever comes near you?”

He stopped, stood as still as a stone statue. “I've never had a choice but to be who and what I am.” A mirror slid across the floor and stopped in front of her. “And this reflection of yourself is what I wanted from you, but like everything else in my life, I had to let that go and trade it for something else.”

She stared at herself and didn't know what to say or to think. Damon had wanted her to be his queen? She ran her fingers across the serpents in her hair that formed the crown she was wearing. They leaned into her fingers as if they wanted to be petted, to be loved. He groaned softly as she ran her fingers down the front of the snake skin dress, like a glove it held her, molded to her body.

“What are you going to do with me, Damon?”

The dress and the crown vanished, leaving her naked and fearful. Damon didn't even look at her, his head turned and a soft growl echoed around the room.

“I'm going to use you as bait.” He looked at her suddenly, a cruel expression stared back her. “But don't fear, I'll not harm one single hair on your head. How could I?”

“Why wouldn't you? You did before, so why not now?”

He laughed, the cruelty in his voice bouncing around the room. “Because dear little Chanta, I made a bargain with Charon as well. But trust me, if I had not made that bargain, I would be all over you licking up your pain and misery with every breath I took.”

With those words, Chanta sat up in the bed she was on. As she threw her feet over the side of bed, Damon appeared at the bottom of the bed. Black rose petals fell from the ceilings, showering her in their dark fragrance. His smile made her skin crawl. With a wave of his clawed hand, he left her stunned, speechless, and naked.

Payne reached for Chanta as she vanished, falling to his knees, his heart ripping from his chest, and hatred filling his soul. Damon would die!

“I will kill you with my bare hands! Do you hear me Father? I'm going to rip every inch of you apart and throw your bloody ass into the flame of the Underworld!”

Sharp pain exploded inside Payne's head. Damon's voice roared, “I'll be waiting for you my son . . . and your woman will be sitting at my feet begging me to pleasure her!”

Payne looked to the ceiling and closed his eyes. “Gyth! I beg of you! I beg like the snake I am! Give me the power to defeat him, give me the strength to rip his soul in half, and give me the birthright that I have so long denied!”

Gyth appeared, his white robes settling around his feet. “You do not know what you ask. The birthright may very well make you like him. There is not enough good in you to keep you as you are.”

“It matters not as long as she is returned and Damon dies.”

“If Damon dies, someone will have to take his place.” Gyth's jaw flexed, his eyes swirling with the white glow Payne had seen in Chanta's eyes. “The Underworld will claim you if you kill him. You will become your father because the universe must remain balanced.”

On his knees, Payne roared, his heart aching, his mind in turmoil. “And what happens to Chanta if she remains in the Underworld? She has a power unlike anything I have ever seen. What happens when Damon tortures her? Tries to convert her?”

“No one said we were going to leave her there.” Gyth eyes glowed brighter. “Don't you think that I would have killed that abomination already if it weren't for keeping the balance?”

Varick appeared beside Gyth as Payne got to his feet. Clenching his fists, Payne manifested his weapons. Gearing up for the fight ahead, he loaded himself down with enough weapons the Army would have stared wide-eyed. He palmed a hunting knife, ran his thumb across the glistening blade.

“Give the power back to me that I gave you freely.”

Payne stepped toward Gyth fully intent on going head to head with him when Varick grabbed his arm. “He can't.”

Payne growled, the sound a low vibration growing louder with each passing second.

“He doesn't command the Destroyers anymore. He has no power over them or over you.”

Not believing his ears, he turned to Varick, all too aware that Gyth's eyes were hard set on Varick's face. “What the hell do you mean?”

The air in the room dropped twenty degrees, Gyth's hair fanning out and tinging with red. When Varick spoke again, Gyth vanished. “It's the reason I've had such a hard time controlling these god powers. It isn't just mine that I have. When Isten reset my destiny, I became the leader of the Destroyers and every power that Gyth took is now mine.” Varick stepped back, his topaz eyes glowing with a soft light. “I owe you a wish.”

Payne had wanted his complete revenge on Damon; he had wanted him begging for Payne's forgiveness and he had wanted to see him die a painful death. But now, Chanta was in trouble and he wanted his birthright, the one thing that was powerful enough to destroy Damon, and the one thing that could send him straight to the Underworld to get Chanta back.

• • •

Damian snuck through the cave and waved for Bastilla to follow. The boyish grin on his face appeared as she glided up behind him and they made their escape out into the sunlight as the coven slept. The sand beneath his feet scratched at his heels as they raced along the riverbank.

Out of breath and safely out of the hearing distance of the coven, they burst out into laughter. They held hands as they raced to the river. Plunging in headfirst they swam across the great water to the other side.

Damian lay looking at the bright white sky as Bastilla took his hand. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispered as he turned his head to look at her. “I have a secret I want to share with you. Someday, when I learn how to control it, it will be able to free us from this hell.”

Bastilla sat up and her eyes widened as Damian summoned his powers. Purple flames leapt to his fingers and danced up his arms. She knew the nature of the flame, it was the flame of the Underworld, Damon's flame. She bit her lip as he stood and held his arms out. His body lifted as the flames completely engulfed him.

His body twisted as it transformed, as the skin melted and reshaped over his bones. His black hair grew and fell to the ground under his feet as muscles bulged under his new skin. Flames leapt from his mouth as asps slithered around his waist forming his clothes. The clothes shined as they covered his body and hissed as a crown of blood formed above his brow.

His fangs extended and he threw his head back in pleasure as the asps settled over his skin. Long sharp spikes protruded through his snake cloths at his elbows, his shoulders, and his forehead. Opening his clenched fists, four long sharp eight-inch metal-like spears ripped through his knuckles.

He floated to the ground and smiled triumphant at Bastilla. His triumph did not last. Her thoughts and emotions poured into him.

Bastilla groaned as she looked upon him from head to toe. He was dark, dangerous, and powerful. She covered her mouth as she realized the snakes were poisonous, that Damon's were not, and that Damon did not know of Damian's power. Her eyes narrowed and her heart tightened in her chest. A cold blast of jealousy ran up her spine as she looked upon him.

Everyone in the coven thought he was human, even his mother. Bastilla had always thought that Damian was weak and inferior. She not only had tried to protect him, she had coveted the fact that he had needed her. She had often dreamt that Damian would fall at her feet when she became Damon's bride. That she would be worshipped as queen of the Underworld, that Damian would one day be her slave and hers alone, and .

“Why do you stare at me like that?” But he knew the answer before asking the question.

Bastilla inched away. “You must get rid of that power. You must not ever use it again. Lord Damon will kill you! You have lied to us all . . . your mother will not be pleased!”

“But . . . Bastilla I hid this for us, that someday we could be free . . . ” His words were lost, his heart breaking.

Bastilla turned her back and ran to the river. Damian knew where she would go and knew she would tell them all. His heart grew cold and bitterness swelled in its place. In that second as she reached the other side of the river he knew he was alone in the world, completely alone.

Damian, son of Damon, looked down at his hands and clenched his fists. He willed the power to hide and the flames died slowly. His feet touched the ground as his body transformed back into the child he was. But now he was different, a dark spark twinkled in his eyes where once there had been a sparkle of hope. But there was no more hope in his soul, only darkness.

Ten minutes later, he walked back into the coven's lair and leaned against the cave wall. He watched as his mother looked upon Bastilla in horror and rage as the girl told her in detail of Damian's power. A slow steady growl erupted from Damian's chest as the coven turned to look at him. He knew what was coming and he wasn't going to fight.

He stood perfectly still and his heart never once sped as they surrounded him and slammed him to the ground before their mistress's feet. The pain felt good, it felt right, as if it was meant to be. With every ounce of his soul he forced the power of his father deep down inside of him. He sealed it inside so tight that even he was no longer sure that it had existed. He pushed its memory to the farthest recesses of his mind and latched onto the wall of hate that was forming around his heart.

Pain. Misery. These were the things that called out to Ania. Not by her choice, but by fate's. She silently craved for peace from her ordained duty, but the reality always kept her at a bitter distance and her dreams full of nightmares.

She cast an eye over the darkness, hoping that she had somehow mistook what her senses were telling her, yet she knew she hadn't. Damon was here, somewhere in the black dense forest, alone and suffering. And she had to find him, Terror Sky insisted that she deliver a message in fear of what was transpiring in Damon's black heart.

Through the years, Ania had managed to keep her distance from Damon even though he yielded such great miseries, not only from himself, but from others around him. Something about him intimidated her, his name a cold living thing burying into her chest.

Damon was a master of misery and even though Ania had never met him, she had dreamed of him, had felt his pain and misery. Part of her was fascinated and had longed for this moment, the other part of her was wary, equally petrified.

The forest in which she stood was dark, no noise and no movement. It would have been damn eerie if she had of been a human. As she walked through the branches, the only sound were her light footsteps. She knew she was getting closer because her skin starting tingling, her body buzzing, and her lithe muscles jerked.

Her heartbeat quickened as she stepped out into a clearing. Nestled in the center of the flat clearing, a standard issue cabin stood. From the windows, flickering light jumped up and down casting an eerie glow across the steps that led to the porch.

Ania walked onto the porch and looked through one of the windows at Damon who stood before a fireplace, his head downcast, his shoulders sagging. Who would have ever thought he could look so downtrodden?

Summoning her powers, she slipped into the black smoke and stepped out of it behind him. The flame in the fireplace crackled, his head lifting slowly, but he remained as he was. One hand was on the mantle, the other hanging at his side. In human form, shirtless and in leather pants, Damon laughed.

“This,” he held out his hands indicating the cabin. “This is my reprieve. A sanctuary away from the Underworld in which I must rule.”

“A hiding place, nothing more.” Ania tried to look away from his back, from the tight hard muscles that bunched as he moved. “I can feel the burdens you carry.”

“Ah, yes.” He turned slightly, his profile silhouetted by the fire. “You must be the goddess of misery I have heard so much about.”

“I am Ania.” She took a step closer, cautiously. “I came here for two reasons.”

Before she could blink, he was in her face, his hands clutching her shoulders. “And what might that be?”

The instant he touched her, she groaned, his words lost. The integration with his mind happened so suddenly, she found herself in his arms, against his chest. She knew that sex and pain were releases for him, but what she was seeing was so beyond that. It was a curse, a drug he had to have to survive.

“You must release me.” Her hoarse whisper rattled the ceiling, the wrought iron and candle chandelier swaying. “I will not be responsible for my actions if you don't do as I insist.”

The second he released her, she wanted to protest. But she was here for a reason and it didn't have to do with her needs or desires. Nor was it about Damon. This was about Payne.

“What do you want?” He turned his back to her, going back to the fireplace, staring into the flames.

“I come with a message from Terror Sky.” Ania watched his muscles bunch as he rolled his shoulders, stretching his neck. “You must take cautious steps during the next few days. The events happening around you are leading to your demise.”

“My demise?” Damon swirled around, his face twisting in rage. “Now, why would Terror Sky care about my demise?”

Ania stepped back, her face burning. “As you know, balances must be maintained. Now is not the time for evil to be triumphant over good. If you die, Payne will rise from your ashes and destroy this world as the Heavens will fall and all mankind will suffer.”

He laughed, the sound a symphony of misery and aching. “Didn't Terror Sky tell you? I would just as soon watch this world destroy itself than take another breath of this putrid air around me.”

He came at her and she held her hand up, stopping him in his tracks. Enough was enough. She was one of the oldest goddesses in this realm and no one was going to threaten her, least of all a snake god that clutched his past to his chest and used it to justify the things he did.