Silken Rapture: Princes of the Underground, Book 2 (22 page)

“You know what she is. Does it surprise you?”

“No,” Blaise growled before he began pacing again. He suddenly knew for a fact that whatever secret Saint held involved the mystery of what was happening between Isabel and him.

“Is Saint being prevented from speaking to the rest of the princes about how he conquered Teslar?”

“Yes.”

Blaise blinked, surprised by Usan’s quick, forthright answer. “Why?” he demanded.

“Kavya has forbidden him to speak openly to the rest of you, upon the request of the rest of the Magian council.”

“You make it your sole duty to vex me, Old Man.”

Usan looked politely interested. “You know, I’ve never heard it put quite so succinctly. To vex, to agitate, to prod—”

Blaise made a sound of profound frustration, causing Usan to blink and rise from his intellectual musings.

“You will thank me someday for it, Blaise.”

Blaise bared his teeth.

Usan sat forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He pinned Blaise with his eerily focused stare.

“Perhaps today is the day,” he said thoughtfully. He seemed to come to a decision and smiled. “All right. You crave a truth? I will give you one. Isabel is pregnant. She is going to have a child.”

His ears rang in the silence that followed. For a moment, he thought Usan had used his magic to conjure an invisible hand to wrap around his throat.

“Isabel is pregnant?” he said after he’d managed to suck in a thin stream of air.

“That’s right.”

“You…you are certain of it?”

“One hundred percent certain, yes. She’s only a few weeks along, but trust me. We alchemists know two things very, very well—genes and vitessence. Isabel is going to have a baby,” Usan said with a satisfied smile as he arranged his robes in his lap.

Blaise turned toward the fire, seeing nothing, impervious to the heat on his skin. A few weeks along? Had she taken a lover while she was in London? A thought struck him and he made a choking sound of rising horror. He reached for the mantel to steady himself. The Literati, the Scourge, Morshiel and himself were all sterile. If Isabel was pregnant, then—

“One of Morshiel’s drudges,” he said in a choked voice. “Those fucking humans who follow him in exchange for drugs and Morshiel’s leavings. One of them must have raped Isabel on the night Morshiel kidnapped her—”

Usan made an exasperated sound behind him. “Today is
not
the day, then,” he said under his breath, sounding a little weary.

“Today is not the day for what?” Blaise roared, spinning around. “Stop speaking in riddles. If you know the details of Isabel’s pregnancy, tell me. I won’t tell her if the truth would upset her, but
I
want to know.”

“You want the truth?” Usan asked, his tone suddenly just as commanding as Blaise’s. He stood. “
You
are the father, Blaise. You are.”

He blinked and flinched back as though Usan had just struck him. “I am? Don’t be ridiculous. You said—”

“That you were sterile, yes I know. But haven’t I also taught you that one of the glories of nature is that it never stays the same? Change is the only constant in the universe.”

“But…the soulless cannot procreate,” he muttered.

Usan’s only response was to quirk his eyebrows in a query.

Blaise just stared. His brain seemed to have become disabled, as if the information was so powerful it caused a circuit overload. Suddenly, one clear thought streamed through his consciousness.

Isi. Maybe it was easier to accept the truth—whatever that truth was—from a peer versus Usan.

Isi was the link to Saint, and to valuable information. Isi had showed some improvement in the last few days, and even had spoken a few words in a thin, raspy voice. Aubrey advised against using any type of telepathy on him in order to gain information, saying Isi was too vulnerable at the present time. But in time, Isi would heal. He’d be able to tell Blaise some of the secrets Saint wanted him to understand. Somehow, Blaise had come to believe Saint possessed the answers he needed for this conundrum with Isabel. Isi held the key—

“
Isi
?” Usan asked, sitting up straighter. Too late, Blaise realized he’d been so thunderstruck by Usan’s news, he hadn’t taken care to guard his thoughts from the Magian. “Are you referring to Isi, who is one of Saint’s Iniskium warriors?”

Blaise did a double-take when he noticed the shock on the Magian’s face. He had never seen Usan look surprised at anything. Never.

“Isi is here…in London?” Usan demanded.

Blaise knew it was too late to deny it. Usan had already claimed the truth from his mind. “I’m shocked you didn’t know before,” he said. “I forbid you to see him. Morshiel and the revenants nearly murdered him. He’s been recovering, but slowly.
Usan
,” Blaise bellowed when Usan turned and headed toward the door.

“It should have been impossible for Isi to come to London,” Usan said, pausing. “The change in Saint’s nature has made the impossible possible, it seems. The princes’ followers have never before been able to leave their sire’s territory. Nature has taken yet another unforeseen path. I will not place an obstacle in this particular alteration.”

“What do you mean?” Blaise shouted.

He was destined to continue to be frustrated, however. The Magian strode swiftly toward the exit, his strange robes billowing out behind him. As he grew closer to the door, he faded from view. Blaise was left standing there alone.

The Old Man really did make it his mission to bewilder and infuriate him at every turn.

In the midst of his chaotic thoughts, he sensed Isabel awaken in her bed. He paused, his face turned toward her even though walls and a great distance separated them.

Isabel is pregnant. You are the father, Blaise.

A sweat broke out on his brow.

Do not believe it
, he warned himself. Humans would have said miracles abounded in Blaise’s world, but for him, life was an endless, gray duty. Isabel had lit up his world with her presence, showed him a whole new spectrum of color, infusing his world with life.

Her presence was all the miracle a being like him could ever hope for. The fact that she
wanted
to touch him, that she curled into his arms like a contented kitten when he went to her, still remained a matter of pure amazement to him.

He sat down on the couch, and placed his forehead in his hand. His body seemed to strain toward Isabel while his mind kept recalling in vivid detail the malaise that consumed her, the illness he had caused. Usan was right about one thing—he could not leave her now. He would continue to try and comprehend these inexplicable events, but he must endeavor to stay away from Isabel until he was more certain of what was happening. He would go to her only as Royal, for she still had not made the heinous realization that he and the animal were one.

As for Usan’s claim in regard to her pregnancy, the news tore at his consciousness.

Miracles didn’t exist, and certainly not for creatures such as he. Recalling the stunned look on Usan’s face caused a worm of sick anxiety to squirm in his gut.

If Usan was worried, Blaise had a thousandfold reason to be.

Chapter Fourteen

Aubrey had recommended to Blaise that the crystal be stored in the apex of Sanctuary—at the very tip of the pyramid, where the power from the earth was the strongest. The apex room had always been a comfortable retreat where the Literati liked to go to relax and meditate. He often went near dawn, when the rest of the Literati slept. That, and the magical ward he placed on the door, assured his privacy while he performed his rituals.

It wasn’t a church, of course, but considering how aware the Literati were of the earth’s sublime soul, it made sense that this room, which burrowed down farther than any other, would be held in special regard. Now that the crystal was housed in the apex room, it made the location a hundred times more powerful.

Aubrey chanted the ancient words and inhaled the pungent scent of incense into his nose. Summoning a demon was always tricky magic, but tonight the challenge was exponentially greater. It was the first time he’d attempted the spell within Sanctuary’s magical protection.

He opened his eyes, breaking his deep trance when he finally felt her presence beside him.

“I’ve been watching you,” Shirian’s voice whispered in his ear.

He smiled, despite her taunting tone. A thrill of excitement coursed through him. He’d done it. His spells had allowed Shirian to enter Sanctuary.

First the demon, soon the clone.

“I know it,” Aubrey said calmly. He glanced to the left and saw the vague outline of Shirian’s form hovering in a blue mist.

“I saw you on your knees with that human whore—Chesa you called her,” Shirian hissed. “You played the submissive very well. I wouldn’t have thought it, given our previous chats. I thought you were too
powerful
to go down on your knees.”

“Only the ignorant believe there is weakness in occasional subservience. There is power in submitting. I find pleasure in it, sometimes as much as bending another to my will.”

“You’ll never convince me of such nonsense.” The sound of her mocking laughter raised his hackles, although he took care to ensure she didn’t see his annoyance.

“You have taunted me enough, Shirian. I know what you came here for. Touch the crystal.”

Her laughter faded. Distantly, like an echo, he heard her soft pants of anticipation. She manifested into flesh before his very eyes. He knew she was evil to the core, but he couldn’t help but be awed by her beauty. She kept one hand on the crystal, and turned toward him, her long, coal black hair swishing around her hips. She’d taken form naked. He salivated as his gaze ran over her comely form.

“I can smell your blood,” he murmured, a small smile shaping his mouth.

“Yes,” she whispered. “It is a miracle, this crystal.” Her lips curved when she noticed his gaze on her full, thrusting breasts.

“I was called the Jewel of the Nile.”

“You are, indeed, beautiful.”

Her red lips slanted into a cruel smile. With her free hand, she reached between her thighs. She was clean-shaven. Whether that was because she’d pictured herself that way before she’d taken form, or because that’s how she looked when her spirit had resided in flesh, he did not know.

She parted her labia, showing him her fleshy gem.

“I would have you kneel before me,” she purred.

He moved quickly, so quickly that Shirian gasped in surprise when he had her turned. He forced her to bend over. He’d pulled one arm behind her back in a painful restraint and pushed her head downward with a grip at her neck. She was so intent on maintaining contact with the crystal, her resistance was minimal.

“I am the master of you, demon,” Aubrey grated out between clenched teeth. “One word from me, and you will be smoke once again, wandering the tunnels. He grabbed a portion of thick hair at her nape and jerked her head up. “Go ahead. Mock me again, and I’ll say the word. Or take your hand off the crystal. You always have that way out, Shirian.”

She made a strangled sound when he stretched her throat, but as he suspected, she didn’t try to speak. Shirian coveted flesh. She was too smart to forsake the opportunity to exist in it.

And such lovely flesh it was, Aubrey thought as he stroked her bare bottom. He kept her hair bunched in his hand, her head drawn back at an awkward angle.

“I will show you who is master between us, Shirian.”

He drew his hand back and struck a buttock. Hard. She whimpered and fell forward slightly.

“Put both of your hands on the crystal and brace yourself,” he said briskly, releasing his restraint on her wrist. “Or you can break contact, if you like. If you are mist, I cannot punish you. I’ll leave it up to you.”

Her hair covered her face, but he imagined she gritted her teeth in fury beneath the obscuring black veil. He smiled when she slowly raised her free hand and braced herself. He brought his hand back and struck her buttocks, again and again.

“Was the Jewel of the Nile ever punished before?” he taunted her as he cracked his palm against succulent flesh. “I expect an answer,” he said, smacking her hard. “What’s that? No? Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me. Perhaps if you had been, you wouldn’t have become such a selfish—heartless—bitch.” He ground out a word every time he landed his palm on flesh. She made a sound of deep frustration and he laughed.

“You really believed you could rule me, didn’t you?” he muttered, amazed at her audacity. He glanced down, appreciating the sight of her smooth bottom blushing pink. He knew he was laying it on thick, but Shirian wasn’t a human. She was a demon, and he
would
see her submit. The more he forced her to, the more power he would have over her. In the world of magic, power could be banked like money. One could never have too much of it.

Subjugation of a demon was never easy, and sometimes he chose to do it sexually. Given the circumstances, it was the perfect way to bend Shirian to his will.

“Perhaps you could have ruled me, if you didn’t love this beautiful flesh so much, Shirian. As things stand, however, you are mine to do with as I please. Don’t move.”

He straightened and headed toward an upholstered chair and ottoman. She turned her head, trying to see him through her thick hair.

“What are you doing?” she asked, sounding furious and bewildered.

“You’re punishment for your insolence isn’t over yet.”

He shoved the cushioned ottoman along the polished wood floor with his foot. “I want your knees hugging that stool, your ass in the air, your head down. You can touch the crystal at the base.”

“No,” she snarled.

“Do you want me to say the word, Shirian? Funny thing about magic. If you piss me off enough, I will think the incantation so strongly, I won’t have to say it aloud. You will just find yourself in the tunnels again, powerless vapor. And know that if you do not submit to me, I will never summon you past the boundaries of Sanctuary and into the crystal room again. You will never again find yourself clothed in this beautiful flesh. Never.”

She scurried to take the position he commanded. He helped her, since she needed to maintain contact with the crystal with at least one hand. A moment later, he stood back and inspected her. She knelt, her legs spread widely, her knees squeezing the opposite corners of the ottoman. Her torso slanted down, her hands bracing her against the bottom of the crystal and the floor. She was spread so thoroughly that her clit, pink pussy and anus were all exposed to his appreciative gaze. He saw how her ribs contracted and expanded, and knew that the position was not a comfortable one for her to hold.