Lisa Shearin - Raine Benares 02 (36 page)

Rudra
Muralin was a thousand years old, but he was still just a boy.

The
lower hells must be freezing over. The Saghred and I actually agreed on
something.

Why
would you want a boy when you could have a man? A voice came from the shadows,
low and dark with barely contained rage. Tam’s voice.

“Release
my son.”

Heavily
armed and black-armored goblins silently emerged from the tunnels and quickly
surrounded the Khrynsani. Dark power rolled in waves from each and every one of
them. These weren’t nightclub bouncers. Tam had called in high-powered,
out-of-town talent.

The
Khrynsani weren’t outnumbered, but I do believe they were outgunned. The same
thought was crossing their minds. They looked to Rudra Muralin for the command
they had to expect but didn’t want to hear. Even death-loving Khrynsani didn’t
want to die.

Tam’s
dark eyes glittered in the dim light. This wasn’t the Tam I knew. This was
Primaru Tamnais Nathrach: dark mage, former chief shaman for the House of
Mal’Salin, magical enforcer to the goblin queen—and a really pissed-off father.

Tam
was dressed for sending Rudra Muralin to his reserved place in the lower hells.
He was in black from head to toe, including boots that came up to midthigh. His
armor was leather and matte black steel, he was wearing blades anywhere and
everywhere he had the room, and his hair was pulled back in a long, goblin
battle braid. When he stepped into the room, his braid didn’t move. Probably
another blade.

Rudra
Muralin was standing between Tam and his son. When bad people threaten your
child, I imagine that could make you a little irrational. Add irrational to
rage and black magic and you’ve got a powder keg ready and eager to explode.
Most people would run screaming from that kind of blast before it happened.

Tam
was going to run toward it; I could see it in his eyes. And if he got the
chance, Rudra Muralin was going to do the exact same thing.

And I
was hanging there like a side of beef, smack dab in the middle of the room,
with Piaras sprawled in a corner, out cold.

Like
I’d said, things were going to get ugly.

“I
offered you a place of honor among my new disciples.” Muralin’s voice was
ominously quiet. “You scorned my gift.”

I
blinked. So the petulant punk was going to slaughter Talon out of spite?

Tam
looked past Rudra Muralin to me.

“Did
he harm you?”

“Just
my dignity for now, but I don’t like his plans for later.”

“Plans
can change.”

“I
was hoping you’d say that.” I tilted my head to the right. “Piaras is on the
floor over there. Please get him out of here.”

Tam’s
eyes went back to Muralin. “Done.”

Muralin
actually made tsking sounds. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,
Tamnais. Your spawn means nothing to me; I have other sacrifices. But your elf
whore is mine.”

Whore?

Chain
me, steal my magic, slaughter kids on me, kill me,
and
call me a whore?
I flexed my feet. There’s payback due on that one.

Rudra
Muralin took the curved knife away from Talon’s throat and, with a disdainful
smile, shoved him to the floor. Talon’s hands were still bound behind him and
he landed hard on his shoulder. A muffled sound of pain came from behind his
gag, but when he looked up at Rudra Muralin, his aqua eyes were crystal clear
and blazing with hatred.

“There’s
your filthy bastard,” Muralin purred. “Come and get it.”

Tam did.

Now I
don’t mind all hell breaking loose. My family loves a good fight. But a torture
chamber full of leather-clad goblin dark mages, and me dangling from the
ceiling like a party favor? No, thanks.

Fortunately,
most of the spellslinging was aimed elsewhere. One of Tam’s men dragged Piaras
clear and took up a defensive stance in front of him. Good. Piaras looked like
he was starting to come around. Even better. Hopefully he’d realize that the
goblins were divided into “us” and “them,” and that the goblin standing guard
over him was one of us.

Talon
was on his feet and was looking for a way out when a Khrynsani with a
wicked-looking dagger locked his arm around Talon’s throat and pulled him in
tight for the kill. Bad move. Talon’s hands were tied behind his back and they
were perfectly aligned with their intended target. The guard’s shriek confirmed
it. The kid traded his death grip on the Khrynsani’s dangly bits for a sharp
twist, and didn’t let go until the guard’s knees buckled. Having been a man
myself for several hours this evening, I knew firsthand that there was no pain
like man pain.

“Talon!”
I yelled.

The
kid turned. He was gagged and tied; I was chained to a hook. We were quite a
pair.

“Swing
me!”

The
kid looked baffled for a split second; then he grinned.

I
narrowed my eyes. “Not that kind of swing. Get behind me and push.”

He
did, and I got the intense satisfaction of kicking a Khrynsani in the back of
the head.

I was
on the backswing when I saw Rudra Muralin coming for me, curved dagger held low.

He
wanted control of the Saghred—and if he killed me, he had it. I could not
believe this. My life’s goal was to get rid of the Saghred. Now to keep my
life, I had to fight for the rock. Irony sucked.

Rudra
Muralin ran straight at me and I used the only weapons I had. I wrapped my legs
around his waist, pinned his arms to his side, and squeezed my thighs together.
I felt his power building, so I twisted sharply, squeezed harder, and screamed
right in his face.

Tam’s
blackjack came down on the back of his head. Rudra Muralin went limp between my
legs and I let him go before his weight dislocated my shoulders.

“No
spells?” I gasped.

“No
need.” Tam grinned and tucked the blackjack back in his belt.

He
bent and wrapped his arms around my hips and lifted me straight up. I unhooked
the chain and lowered my arms, my shoulders screaming in protest.

I
grimaced. “I am going to be so sore in the morning.”

Tam
loosened his hold enough that I slowly slid down the length of him until my
feet were on the floor. Tam didn’t let go. I’d kind of thought and hoped he
wouldn’t.

“Nice
work,” he murmured.

I
shrugged as much as my aching shoulders would let me. “If you can’t fight,
distract.”

I
looked around the room and swallowed. Tam’s black-magic hit squad didn’t
believe in taking prisoners. If it was Khrynsani, it was dead.

Piaras
was on his feet and mostly conscious. Talon was untied and ungagged.

“Garai?”
Tam never took his dark eyes from mine.

One
of the goblins approached. “Your will, my primaru?”

“Find
the keys.”

“At
once.”

I
stopped and my eyes went wide. With all the black magic flying around the room,
the Saghred should have been trying to burn a hole in my chest. It wasn’t.

Oh
yeah. The manacles.

Tam
knew. He grinned slowly, then bent his head and kissed me even slower. One arm
pulled me tight against him; his free hand cradled my face and one finger
lightly traced the tip of my ear.

I
told myself that my legs were still weak from hanging; Tam’s kiss and nibbling
fangs had nothing to do with it.

Tam
raised his head and looked down at me; his dark eyes had gotten even darker.

“See,
no Saghred kickback,” he murmured.

“Not
a peep,” I managed.

His
smile turned seven ways wicked. “Maybe we should keep the manacles.”

I met
his smile and raised him a grin. “They could come in handy. And you’re very
bad.”

His
smile faded. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

Garai
brought the keys and Tam unlocked the manacles. He pocketed the key, then held
out the manacles to Talon.

“Would
you care to do the honors?” Tam asked his son, indicating the still-unconscious
Rudra Muralin.

Talon
bared his fangs in a ferocious smile. “I’d love to.”

Tam’s
expression went solemn. “We should talk later.”

The
kid snorted. “Damned right we should.” He stopped and thought. “Sir,” he added.

I
took a couple of quick steps back from Tam. The second those manacles came off,
the burn was back. With the room full of black magic—and especially Tam’s
proximity—the Saghred was looking for a piece of the action. It felt like it
was going to take the first piece out of me.

“Raine,
are you—” Tam took a concerned step toward me.

I
held out my hand to stop him. He understood and didn’t come any closer.

I
took slow, measured breaths. “Maybe we should have left the manacles on me.” I
tried a grin; it didn’t quite make it.

Rudra
Muralin chuckled dryly. He was on the floor, he was manacled—and he was
smiling. That didn’t bode well.

He
looked around at his dead Khrynsani guards. “Bravo, Tamnais. You’ve always been
the thorough type. Very neat, very meticulous work. My temple guards were here
with me.” His black eyes were shining. “My
shamans
are with the
spellsingers. And if I didn’t return within the half hour . . . Well, let’s
just say they had their orders.” He smiled, slow and horrible. “Time’s up,
Tamnais. The harvest has begun.”

Just
because punching the goblin’s fangs out wouldn’t do those kids
any good didn’t mean I didn’t want to do it. Really
bad.

Tam
grabbed the front of Rudra Muralin’s doublet and jerked him to his feet.

“Talk,”
Tam growled.

Muralin’s
laugh came out as a strangled rasp. “Why? Or you’ll kill me?”

“I’ll
make you wish I had.”

“Hollow
threats, Tamnais. You’ll never find what’s left of those spellsingers without
me.”

“Want
to bet?” I asked.

“My
shamans have put up shields, distortions, and illusions, seeker,” Muralin
sneered. “Even with the Saghred, your abilities are pathetic. Do you truly
think what you call skill got you this far? I brought you here, exactly where I
wanted you. You weren’t following spellsingers, elf. You were answering my
call.”

Piaras
was beside me. “Raine, he’s lying. You
saw
the spellsingers in their
cell. You were tracking them, and he knows it. You can pick up their trail
again.” His confidence was absolute. So was his desperation. Katelyn Valerian
was down here somewhere.

The
desperation part I agreed with. I had to find Ronan and those kids now. But
what I’d been following all this time—had it been the real thing or a Khrynsani
shaman phantom? There was no time for doubt, no second-guessing. Tam could
torture information out of Rudra Muralin, but anything he told us would be a
lie.

I
knew it. So did Tam. He was looking at me. There was no question reflected in
those eyes; he just needed an answer. I’d backed away from him and stayed there.
The Saghred was coiling and twisting at the stench of black magic in the
air—and at Tam’s nearness. I couldn’t trust anything Rudra Muralin said. Could
I trust the power boost of a starving, vindictive, and fickle rock?

No.

I was
a Benares. I knew one person whose wits I could trust here and now.

Me.

I
didn’t need the Saghred. I’d had dark mages, crafty bastards, try to throw me
off the scent in the past. It hadn’t worked then, and it sure as hell wasn’t
going to work now.

I
exhaled and let a slow smile spread across my face. “I can do it.”

I had
to. Ronan and those kids had no other choice. Tam’s eyes were still on me.
“Raine, when Rudra said harvest, he meant Magh’Sceadu.”

Oh
shit.

Piaras’s
expression was identical to mine, and I’m sure he’d just thought the same two
words.

“Magh’Sceadu
are the most convenient way to store souls when living bodies become
inconvenient,” Muralin agreed smugly. “And they can flow through solid rock.
These tunnels run under the entire island—including the citadel.” Those black
eyes were on mine. “As enjoyable as it would be to watch the souls flow through
you, my Magh’Sceadu can flow into the Saghred’s containment room and feed the
stone directly. I just need you to die. I always have a backup plan, Raine. Or
I believe the more modern term is ‘Plan B.’ ” Rudra Muralin grinned until his
fangs showed. “What’s your Plan B?”

My
stomach twisted. Plan B? Hell, my Plan As were rarely anything to write home
about. Sneak in, charge out, hope not to die. That pretty much covered it. I tried
to keep my plans simple. I’d discovered through near-fatal experience that the
only thing fancy tactics gave you was more things that could go wrong.

I had
an idea. It was simple, which was just the way I liked it, and even better, I
thought it would work. If Rudra Muralin was going to play hardball, the least I
could do was throw him a curve.