Prince of Fire (25 page)

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Their camp was isolated, and still Ciro made sure his legion operated properly, as an army should. Some soldiers kept watch on all perimeters, while others trained for the arduous battles to come.

Training—with strict orders not to kill one another— did not sate their need for blood, and they were growing hungry again. But they were not ready. Not to take on experienced soldiers or armed and vigilant villagers.

Ciro's tent was positioned in the center of camp, where anyone who thought to attack would have to fight past every soldier of his growing army, his devoted Own, to reach him. More of his Own came to him every day, and with each addition his army grew stronger. Even though he was anxious to continue on his journey, he knew it was not yet time.

Diella entered his tent as if it were her own. Ciro grit his teeth. He would be so glad when the time came that. he could kill her outright. She was an annoyance, and she behaved as if she were still empress when her time was long past. She was merely the spirit of a long-dead empress trapped in a stolen body, and for some reason the demon wanted her to remain alive. For now.

"I'm bored," she said as she sauntered toward him.

"That's hardly my problem," Ciro responded.

"Surely you're not entirely happy to be sitting here when there is so much to be done."

"The demon will tell me when the time is right for us to make the next move."

"Yes, I'm sure it will."

Diella boldly sat on his knee, reaching into her pocket to withdraw a healthy portion of the drug Panwyr. At the sight of the gently sparkling brown powder, Ciro's mouth began to water. His brain pounded and his eyes could see nothing else but the offering on her palm.

The Isen Demon had been addicted for a long while, and Ciro had become addicted soon after the demon had joined with him.

"This will help us to pass the evening, will it not?"

Diella took a small pinch of the drug and sniffed it up her nose. Her cheeks, even the scarred one, went rosy, and her lips parted with a satisfied sigh.

Ciro took the drug from her palm, inhaling it as she had done. All worries about the battles to come melted away. When he was not thinking about taking his father's throne, he had room in his mind only for Rayne.

Beautiful Rayne, who would be his empress. Beautiful Rayne, who would bear his son.

Diella took his face in her hands, and he allowed her to do so. "So young," she whispered. "So handsome." Her fingers raked through his hair. "Such fair, lovely hair. Like an angel." One bold hand dropped into his lap and she sighed. "So large."

In the back of his mind, Ciro knew that Diella was not the one for him, that he should save himself for his beloved. But he did not tell the woman on his lap to stop, not when she fondled him, not when she freed him.

Diella roughly freed one breast and all but shoved it in his face, and Ciro did not mind. He was tempted to bite into the vein there, to take just a taste of her blood. But he did not bite. He squeezed hard, and laid his lips on the swell of young flesh, unable to stop himself. The drug swirled through his blood and made the world a fine place. There were many colors, here in his tent, colors which had taste and smell.

The power that surged through him was almost overwhelming, and he finally gave in to his impulses and raked his teeth over a tempting blue vein. He took a sip of blood, no more.

Diella's attentions became more ardent, and she stroked him forcefully and with demand. No one demanded anything of Ciro, not anymore.

No one but the ben Demon.

The demon whispered inside Ciro's head.
She is mine. Take her for me.

"But she's not..." Ciro stopped speaking and shut his eyes tight. His words were slurred. His thoughts were not.
She is not Rayne.

Open your eyes.

He did so, and gasped at the sight so near. It was Rayne who leaned down to kiss the side of his neck, Rayne, with her dark hair and flawless face and perfect body who lifted her skirt and straddled him. It was Rayne's bare breast slightly stained with blood.

It was beautiful, pure of soul Rayne who took him into her body and offered him womanly heat and much needed release.

He had not known that an untried maid could be so bold and enthusiastic.

In the back of his mind, a dark voice whispered.
Mine. Mine.

And then...

Ours.

12

"Gently, gently," a deep and pleasant male voice ordered as Keelia's captor tossed her to the ground. Her limbs were still useless, and she could not speak even to cry out in pain. She dropped to the ground limply, utterly defenseless.

She sensed a presence beside her—a presence very different from the rough and unkind creature who had kidnapped her.

"I'm sorry for your discomfort." The voice was low and reassuring, gentle and intelligent. Equally gentle hands removed the hood from her head, and she saw the wizard from her vision, the one who had enchanted the stone that had created the soulless monsters.

He lifted her head with great care and dropped yet another talisman around her neck. It was smaller than the binding talisman, and hung from a dainty silver chain. The stone was swirling gold and deep purple, and seemed to be alive in the way it sparkled and churned. At first Keelia was alarmed, but a rush of peace descended upon her.

The wizard seemed so kind. Perhaps her visions of him as an evildoer had been wrong. Perhaps her visions had been twisted by the same power that had dampened her psychic abilities. Nothing about him alarmed her, not in any way.

He was dressed in a flowing dark purple robe, and a very pretty silver and gold medallion lay against his chest. It wasn't a crude talisman like the ones die beasts wore, but was a very attractive piece of masculine jewelry. The two metals, one warm and one copl, were blended together, intertwining in fascinating swirls.

His hair was long and black, without even a hint of curl or wave, and it hung well past his shoulders. His eyes were green as emeralds, but there was a touch of something else blended with the green. Black, perhaps. Deep, endless black that she could very easily fall into. The eyes were odd, but his face was decidedly handsome. He had a wonderful smile. Keelia's heart leapt, and in that moment she knew she had been enchanted in some way. By the newest talisman perhaps, or by the eyes, or by some other spell he had used upon her. She tried to fight against the unnatural forces that affected her, but it was so hard. It would be so much easier to drift into the mindless oblivion he offered, rather than continuing to fight.

The wizard saw her uncertainty and his smile dimmed. "I have dreamed of this moment for so many years. Before the Isen Demon promised you to me, before I knew it was possible that I could actually have you for my own, I dreamed of bringing you here."

Keelia tore her eyes from the wizard's face and studied
here.
Purple-tinged wizard's light, along with ordinary lanterns and candles, illuminated this cave which was much more than a cave. She saw a number of naturally formed doorways which would lead to other rooms, or to an exit perhaps. The ceiling was high above, the smooth stone floor covered here and there by woven rugs. Like the Anwyn homes which were built into the mountain, this cave had been fashioned into the finest of dwellings. There were many furnishings, and some of the walls were covered by colorful tapestries. Having made the difficult climb, she wondered how they had come to be here.

Magic had been used in some cases, she imagined, but not in all. Some of the pieces had simply been constructed here. The wizard had been building this home for many years.

For her.

"Promise to behave yourself and I will remove the binding talisman."

Keelia wasn't sure how she was supposed to jnake such a promise when she couldn't move or speak.

The wizard reached out and grasped the stone that had immobilized her. As he lifted the stone and moved it past her eyes, she noted that it was different from the one the creatures wore, different from the one that now lay against her chest.

Again she realized she had been enchanted, so she fought. Inside, where die wizard could not see, she did battle with herself. A part of her saw this man as handsome and kind. She instinctively thought of him as a friend, one she could trust with her darkest secrets and her very life. But she knew this was not true. No wizard who used his gifts to create twisted monsters was kind. No man who used his magic for darkness was her friend. She fought very hard to retain her senses, but it wasn't easy. In fact, it would be very easy to drift into the world this wizard had built for her, to allow herself to be sucked into what he offered her, body and soul. It would be very much like falling into the blackness she sometimes saw in his eyes.

In doing so, she would lose herself. Keelia breathed deep and prepared to strike as soon as she was able. She could kill the wizard and the beast who had carried her here if her moves were well planned. Once they were dead, she could search at her leisure for the stone—given that mere weren't more of the monsters waiting around every comer. It didn't matter; she had to Jry.

The wizard stopped moving while the binding talisman still hung over her head. She was unable to move or speak still, even though the stone was no longer touching her. Did the new talisman have the same effect? Had he simply exchanged one immobilizing spell for another? No, this was different somehow.

"Do you wonder why I have dreamed of you? Why I have gone to such lengths to prepare a home fit for a Queen?"

Actually, she did wonder a little. She had not dreamed of this wizard at all, not in her entire life. She had never so much as glimpsed him in a vision until she reached for information about the twisted Caradon and the reason for their existence.

"My name is Maccus. Perhaps that name resonates in the depths of your soul or in your very heart."

Keelia found that she could shake her head a little. She was still influenced by the original talisman, but as it no longer touched her, she was regaining some control of her body. Her fingers curled. A muscle in her jaw twitched.

"No?" Maccus said. "That's surprising. I did expect that my mate would know me when she saw my face."