Shadows of the Keeper (32 page)

Coughing, sputtering, sneezing and
dry heaving made her feel as if her ribs would crack.  Dezenial raced her
from the water, lifting her in one fluid motion.  Gagging, grabbing her
stomach, too weak to hold on, her toes curled tightly against the pain of trying
to get air.  Thick towel wrapped around her.  She spied a sink and
frantically jabbed towards it.  Quickly, Dezenial helped her walk, her
legs giving out several times.  One last hard cough and water upheaved
from her innards to spill out into the black marble sink. 

“In my world, a bath is for washing
the body, not for drinking.”

“I’m . . . dying and you . . . make
jokes?”

Grinning, he turned on the
water.  With gentleness belying the size of his hand, he washed her face
with refreshing cold water.  “Drink.”  His palm cupped water for her
to drink from, iciness soothing her raw throat.  There was something
genuinely erotic, drinking from his hand.  Drying her face with the edge
of the massive towel currently wrapped around her, he tucked the corner he’d
used in between her breasts—she smacked his hand—he yanked her against
him.  “I think, Keer’dra, in the future, you should think out a plan
before you attack.  It does no good to go against your enemies and die in
the trying.”

“Shut up, Dezenial.”  She
huddled against him, absorbing his body heat.  Just as suddenly, she
pulled away and sneezed.  Her eyes bulged.  She slammed against him,
obstructing her view.  “You’re
naked
!”

“Yes. This is how one bathes.”

“But . . . but . . . you don’t have
on any clothes.”

Shadow Master frowned.  “This
is one of those female trick observations trapping me into wishing I were dead,
correct?”

Face averted, she pulled
away.  “Put something on.”

“Do I shame you, Keer’dra?”

“Hardly.”  She gasped. 
“What I meant was . . . well, what I meant to say –oh, just wrap that—wrap a
towel around you!”  Heat rushed across her face like a marching band with
red banners.

“Come.  Your hair must be
oiled and dried.”  His tone chilled the room.  “I do believe I
offered you coffee.” 

“I didn’t mean to hurt—“

He was still naked!

“Ruining my clothing while
assisting you with your hair seemed a waste.  Save your words, Princess
Emily.”  He shrugged, indifferent to her apologies.  “Follow if you
wish.”  He moved away from her, muscled thighs and buttocks an amazing
sight to behold.  Unexpected flutters attacked her abdomen.  She
didn’t budge.  Couldn’t.  He looked . . .
sculpted
.  If
he were to pose for an art class, that would be one class where all students
present would fail.  They’d be too busy ogling.  Or, trying to touch
with the excuse they were interested in getting a feel for their
specimen.  Almost, she giggled.  Another thought struck her, sobering
her.

Dezenial had watched over her an
entire lifetime.  He had intervened when danger lurked.  All those
times she’d been afraid of the dark, it had been him pushing back the
nightmares, keeping her safe.  He had given himself to Drakar’s patrol to
save her.

He turned around.  Raged
dripped as visually as rivulets of water rolled down his exquisite body. 
His chest swelled, his chin jut out and male pride made him even more something
to behold.  “Careful what begins to root in that little head of yours.”

“Be careful your barbs fail to
protect you from your fears.”

He charged.  Viciously, he grasped
the back of her soaked hair, yanking her head back, commanding her
attention.  “What, Emily, do you think I fear?” he hissed ferociously,
making sure she had fill view of his fangs.

“Love.”  She wrenched free his
grasp, sidestepping his tall frame.  Clutching her towel tightly, she
stormed her exit from the gigantic bathroom, stopping just short of vacating
his presence.  “I think, Dezenial, you are much in comparison to Broc:
very needful to clutch hate, but sadly lacking when the heart begins to open. 
Be warned, I no longer own a heart. 
You
crushed it when you left
me; Broc soaked up what was left and annihilated it with his hateful
words.  Screw both of you!”  She stormed out.  Little did she
realize her words, to this god, were just that—words.  For Dezenial was
embedded in her mind; her deepest thoughts.  Had she remained and seen the
slow smile slithering across his face, she probably would have clawed
him.  That thought made him grin even more.  Because what his little
Emily thought to bury deeply in the secret folds of her most inner thoughts
nearly bowled him over.

She loved him.

It would be very interesting to see
how fiercely she remained in denial.

It will remain interesting to
see how long
you
remain in denial, my son
.

Dezenial’s fists clenched against
Hades’ taunting laughter, reverberating within his head.

“Dezenial,” she muttered from the
side of her mouth.  “This feels awkward.  Six guards surrounding me,
really?”

“Ayea nitag.”

“Oh, for the love of God, what did
it
say
this
time?”

Inzyr scowled.  “You will
learn the language.”

“Thanks, but I’m not interested in
becoming fluent in Horror.”

“Repeat my words.  Perhaps
their meaning will prevent you from roaming.”

“You want me to say all that? 
Okay,
Perhaps their meaning will prevent you from roaming
.  There,
how’s that?  I
even
managed to mimic your accent.”  Almost,
she stuck out her tongue.

Dezenial chortled.

“I want you to understand Balkore
is not that stone and mortar dwelling your Forest Lords reside in.  Down
here, curiosity will be your death,” Inzyr stated, his expression icy.

“Give me some credit, will
you?  I know better than to go exploring in Lumynari domain.  I hated
Halloween haunted houses, why would I want to play in yours?”  This time,
she did stick out her tongue. 

Glowing green rocks morphed Inzyr’s
face into something alien.  “You
will
repeat my words,
Princess
Emily.”  Without waiting for her to acquiesce, the assassin proceeded with
language lessons, repeating over and over his words until Emily said them
correctly. 

“It will suffice for now.”

“And it’s meaning that I
oh-so-need-to-know?”

“
Avoiding assassinations
. 
You have learned two important words, and why we keep you surrounded with elite
guards.”

Emily looked up at Dezenial as they
walked.  “Couldn’t we have just brought him back a doggy bag?  A chew
toy for not piddling on your rug?” 

Dezenial grinned.  Inzyr
snorted. 

His eyes, no matter the
insufficient lighting, caused her heart to flutter.  She squashed the
momentary lapse in sense, amusing herself with the image of stomping the
emotion until it was nothing more than dust.

Their journey continued down a long
cavernous corridor, green eventually giving way to flickering orange from numerous
torches.  Only thing missing was a band of pirates creeping towards buried
treasure.  Though the ground was smoother here, she still kept the train
looped over her arm, fearing she’d snag the beautiful sapphire silk.

“Do no fret your gown, Keer’dra. 
My apologies it is not of the highest quality for you.”

“I’m not that kind of girl,
Dez.  This dress is breathtaking, but I’d be just as comfortable in my
jeans and a good sweater.  Warmer too.”  She smoothed the waist
hugging her now very slim form.  The neckline dipped rather low, and the
built in corset pushed her breasts up like a right proper medieval
maiden.  Though she felt overly exposed, it
had
been a heady
experience when Dezenial’s eyes had smoldered.

He’d gifted her with the
gown.  With it had come an invitation to dine with him amongst his
elite.  Warning of treachery amongst these
chosen
guests, she was
to be wary her temper and quick tongue.  She held up two fingers and gave
scouts honor to obey.  Dezenial had smirked, then presented her with
female slaves more anxious to meet and assist her than she’d thought
necessary.  Shouldn’t they be sorrowful, their current plight of
servitude?  None were allowed to converse directly with her, Cianna, their
caretaker, was the only one granted such privileges.  The height and
silliness of children, they claimed to be in their eighties.  Emily would
ask the details later, for they’d looked to be no more than teens.  In
fact, she had an entire slew of questions to ask Dezenial, once they were
alone. 
Alone
. 
With Dezenial
.  She
stumbled.  One of her escorts quickly grasped her arm, steadying
her.  She smiled her appreciation, surprised she received a grunt in
return; surprised he had long
black
hair versus the luminous white of
Lumynari.

Dezenial. 
Alone
.

She was torn between kicking him in
his very sexy ass, or tackling him to the floor to molest whatever treasures
lay hidden in his erotically tight leather pants.  Oblivious to Dezenial’s
wolfish grin, Emily thought back, with increasing annoyance, how he’d refused
to give her privacy while she’d dressed.  They’d tugged the towel away,
beckoning she step into the gown.  Ever so slowly, it was pulled up,
pausing its ascent to whisper around her thighs before raising more to hug her
breasts.  Lacing the sides and then the back, pushing everything up even
more, giggles had escaped a few of her servants—she refused to call them
slaves.  Emily had glared across at Dezenial.  He’d reciprocated with
arousal glowing in his eyes as the handmaidens slipped tiny pearl buttons into
their loops at each of her cuffs.  By the time her hem was raised, shoes
of the softest velvet slipped upon her feet, his fangs were long and
lethal.  Her tongue darted out, swiping her bottom lip.  She failed
to realize, in Lumynari, she was offering silent promise of sexual
gratification.

Dezenial had looked both irritated
and relieved by Inzyr’s sudden arrival.

The assassin had entered,
apparently above the need to knock first.  The women immediately ceased
their chatter, eyeing him fearfully.  They gathered their clutter,
hustling from Emily’s chambers.  Dezenial slipped into an adjoining
chamber.

“Tse’ ja.”

“I don’t understand your words.”
Butthead
.

Barked laughter erupted from the
next chamber.  Emily frowned at the partially open door.  Inzyr’s
scowl deepened. 
Stop monitoring my thoughts, wretch
.

“You will begin language lessons
soon.  I simply called you beautiful,” Inzyr stated.

“Um, thank you.  Tongue’s
burning from the compliment, isn’t it?”

“If we do not acquire ice soon, I
fear I may begin emitting smoke.”

Emily had the grace to grin. 
“Save your compliments and I’ll save pretending I like you.”

Corpse cold, Inzyr leaned back, his
head tilted to rest against the wall.  Assassin eyes, however, remained
leveled on her.  Tonight, his attire consisted of a black jerkin—at least
this time he wore some semblance of something on his torso—and black
leggings.  Long white hair was pulled away from his face, plaited and
falling down his back much like a glowing rope.  She suspected his act of
being oh-so-casual was just that, an act.  Tension crackled from
him. 
Leashed.  And who controls the beast’s muzzle?  You,
Dez
? She envisioned Dezenial walking this dog up to a tree so the beast
could lift its leg and—

Another bout of laughter erupted
from Dezenial’s chamber.  Inzyr pushed away from the wall, looked to the
chamber and then at her.  Emily was about to ask the assassin which he
preferred, trees or hydrants?  But, right at that moment, Dezenial had
practically exploded from his chamber—

“We are here.”

Emily flinched out of her reverie.

“Do not look for conversation,
Keer’dra.  I have forbidden it.”

“Somehow, I doubt any of your
buddies have the latest CNN report, or what’s on sale at Victoria’s Secret.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

“Lumynari cross-dressers?  Who
knew.”

Dezenial glared.  “I do not
wish webs to be weaved around your naivety.”  His large hand descended to
the small of her back.  Flutters erupted at his touch, searing an
invisible imprint of his hand through the fabric of her gown.

Double doors opened on cue.

Jeweled goblets glittered from atop
the rows upon rows of long tables, draped in pristine white linens. 
Intricate candelabras flooded the vast dining hall with romantic
lighting.  She’d expected a tavern, topless wenches, and testosterone
charged beasts bashing their heads against one another.  Dezenial smirked
behind her.  “I can take you to such a place, if you prefer, Keer’dra.”

Emily didn’t hear him.  She
halted, unsure of herself.  Hundreds of sophisticated Lumynari, garbed in
all manners of dress from warriors to velvets, immediately stood, their heads
bowed.  She was from Texas, whereas, these were regal—

“Keer’dra, you are with me.”

“Do they do this every time you
enter the room?”

“Must I go above and kill my
dinner?” Inzyr asked.

Emily smiled sweetly.  “I
could throw you a bone, give you something to gnaw before you chase your tail
and settle for the night.”

Inzyr lunged.  Dezenial’s hand
upon his chest halted his deadly intent.  Emily noted how the guards
hadn’t even flinched. 
Huh, so they’re to protect me from everything
but the stooge.  Interesting.
  Dezenial scowled down at
her.  “Why must you provoke him?”

“Can’t help it.  He’s like a
caged beast, and I just have to keep sticking my fingers near it.”

Inzyr smirked.  “Caged beasts
bite.”

“Owners pull triggers.”  Emily
blew the tip of her index finger to emphasize her point.

“Enough!  You two will have
your battle later.  For now, we dine on the terrace.”  Dezenial
stated.  “Look at no one, Emily.  If you do, it will be perceived as
a challenge.”  He then chuckled softly as their party moved forward again.

“Dare I ask what amuses you?”

“I ponder their reaction should
they witness your temper.”  He leaned down, closer to her ear.  “I
have heard stories of a certain jailor not taking well to your flames.”

“Shut up.  I killed him in
self-defense.  I have to live with that knowledge for the rest of my
life.”

“Yes, tell me, do you suffer for
it?”

“Haven’t lost sleep over his ugly
ass yet.”

Dezenial’s laugh was low, throaty,
his eyes glittering.  “Hellcat.”

“I can’t believe you watched me
dress.”  Her mouth quirked.  “I didn’t get to watch you.”

“I will watch you sleep as
well.”  Azure eyes raked her breasts.  Again, she stumbled, this time
it was Dezenial’s arm wrapping around her.

“And when will you sleep, or
warrior of mine?”

“When my arms are tightly wound
around you, and I can feel the rise and fall of your naked breasts pressing
against my chest you forever daydream about licking.”

“Ack!  Jeeze, Dez. 
Discretion.”  She glanced around, mortified those walking with them had
overheard his words.

“We are brutally honest,” Inzyr
stated, observing them.  “Forever in need of sex, I might add.”  A
snort escaped him.  “
Dez
?”  Soft laughter was heard over their
footsteps. 

Emily threw him a scathing look
over her shoulder.  “Wanna know my nickname for
you
?”

Again, Dezenial laughed.  “You
two will cease long enough for me to enjoy my meal and observe.”

Emily lifted her chin and hem and
followed the guards through a secondary set of heavy doors being held open for
them.  A very long, wide table was set up as opulently as those she’d just
passed.  As in the previous dining room, here the occupants stood, their
heads bowed.  Emily wasn’t sure if she wanted to get used to this
treatment, or run screaming from the ridiculousness of it.  Yesterday, an
office manager for a real estate agency; today, a queen.  And, she was
about to train in magicks with a belligerent assassin . . . and she’d been
brutally beaten, whipped, her clothing—

“Keer’dra?”

Her chair had been pulled
out.  How long had she zoned?  Embarrassed, she quickly sat as it was
tuck underneath her.  “Thank you.”

Everyone remained standing. 
They were watching
her
.  Had she just committed some Lumynari
etiquette snafu?  Dezenial snarled at his other guests in his language,
his expression frightening. 
I will be brave, I will be brave, I will
be brave.  I can do this, I can do this, I can do this.
  “Inzyr
isn’t joining us?”

“He stands.  Better to
observe.”  Dezenial glared at all present before settling into a chair
that looked more like the jowls of an angry beast.  Fitting.  His
eyes flicked over her, but she ignored that he’d more than likely read her
observation.

“Observes?”

“Those who think to attack.”

“In your kingdom?  Wouldn’t
they be stupid to try?”

“Right now, I am taking advice from
your species of humans by keeping my enemies close.”

“Is this why I’m here?”

Amber gaze locked with blue.

“Your question does not warrant an
answer.  Now,” he unfolded a linen napkin and placed it upon his
lap.  “You will disregard what
we
eat.  I have requested a
special meal for you.”

“Cheeseburgers?”

“Cheeseburgers?”

Emily giggled.  They sounded
like the skit she’d seen on old Saturday Night Live re-runs with John
Belushi.  “Flattened meat.”  She motioned with her hands. 
“Melted cheese.  In-between two thick slices of bread called buns. 
Ketchup, mustard, mmmmm, mayonnaise and pickles—God, I’d part with anything for
pickles, and French fries.”  Her voice became husky.  “Oh, the
pleasure of French fries.”

“I will be sure to seek this
pleasure and acquire it for you as soon as possible.”

She eyed him skeptically.  “I
think you’re making fun of me.”

“I’m intrigued what you will part
with for this
pleasure
of French fries.  I assure you, they are
soon to be placed in front of you.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed. 
“Perv.  What are we having,
Dezenial
?”

A few eyed her, pausing their muted
conversations. 
Maybe I should shine Dez’s boots to reaffirm I’m a good
little prisoner.  Better yet, I could shine his very defined
derriere. 
Spit
shine.  Yum-yum!

Spontaneous grinning made his eyes
twinkle.

Gouging his eyes replaced her
imagination.

White brow arched, daring her.

She battled the temptation. 
How dare he read her every thought?