Blood Shadows (21 page)

Braden shook his head slowly from side to side in an exaggerated motion. “You have no idea.”

“Hey, Braden.” A deep, smooth voice interrupted their conversation, and Braden looked up to see Kagen Silivasi standing in front of them in a pair of stone-washed Levi’s and a blue muscle-tee.

“Oh, hey, Kagen,” Braden called back. “Wassup?”

“Not much. When did you get here?”

“Just about ten minutes ago.” He gestured toward Nachari’s
destiny
. “I was talking to Deanna, telling her lots of important stuff about Nachari and showing her some pictures.”

“Is that right?” Kagen said, bending over to look at the phone. Seeing the last photo on the screen, he laughed out loud. “Katia said you called ahead—you wanted to talk to me about something—what is it?”

Braden looked back and forth between Kagen and Deanna. He hadn’t felt that good in a long time—having all of Deanna’s attention to himself kind of made him feel special, like he was somehow closer to Nachari. Telling on Kristina wouldn’t really make a difference in the world right now, but helping Deanna, that was as cool as it got. “Aw, nothing,” he said. “It can wait for another day. Just man things, you know.”

Kagen glanced back and forth between Braden and Deanna. “I see.” His eyes grew narrow, and he furrowed his brow. “You sure about that, buddy?”

Braden waved his hand through the air coolly. “Yeah, I’m sure. It’s all good.”

“All right then,” Kagen said. “I have a few things I need to take care of around here, so if you need me, I’ll be available a little later tonight.” He turned toward Deanna and brightened. “I’m glad you finally got to meet this one; he’s extremely important to my brother.”

Deanna regarded Braden pointedly. “I can see why,” she said. “Sometimes, just knowing who a person loves gives you a good idea of who they are. I think I’ve learned a lot today.”

“Good,” Kagen said. “I know it isn’t easy.”

Deanna smiled and nodded, but Braden hardly noticed:
Just knowing who a person loves.

That’s what she had said.

Whatever the Silivasis had told Deanna about him, she knew Nachari loved him, that he was one of the most important people in Nachari’s life; and for whatever reason, she was treating him really, really special. His heart filled with pride and joy; and he sat back in his chair.

Yeah, this was definitely the right decision. Getting to know Deanna was way more important than squealing on Kristina. In fact, it was turning out to be one of the best days he’d had in a long while.

In the privacy of his dungeon, Nachari rocked back and forth on his knees, trying to quell the nausea in his stomach. His blood dripped down from his mouth and nose onto the stone floor and pooled beneath him, but he didn’t give it too much thought. He’d been there a thousand times before, trying to reorient his body as it struggled to regenerate following a particularly brutal beating.

Ademordna had kept him in the throne room longer than usual that day, giving several of his minions a turn with the lash. After spiking his wrists and ankles to the stone, they had even spread some sort of animal grease over his naked body, just to make sure the spiked lash glided easily through his skin. He took a deep breath and tried to control his trembling; he could have sworn a few of those spikes nicked internal organs this time.
Gods, what he wouldn’t give for some fresh human blood right now
—for his body to have something other than Ademordna’s slaves to feed on.

He felt the bile rise in his throat, and he pushed it back down.

He felt the familiar pang of despair swell in his heart, and he fought against it.

Where was Deanna now? he wondered. What was she doing? And what would it be like to finally meet her? He had to concentrate on the future, because the present was simply too unbearable.

The click-click-click of spiked heels clattering on top of stone caught his attention, and he tried to turn his head to the side. The world began to spin around him, and he immediately held it back down.

“Ah, lover of mine; you don’t look so good today.”

Noiro.

Of course.

“Do you want something?” he bit out. He was so not in the mood for her antics.

“Oh, yes,” she purred seductively, “but you don’t appear in any shape to give it to me.” She paused to chew on a painted fingernail. “Shall I bring you another slave to feed upon? You really look…awful.”

“Why are you here, Noiro?” he growled.

She tossed something green to the floor beneath him. “Look, wizard—and you tell me.”

Nachari blinked a trickle of blood out of his eyes and struggled to bring his vision back into focus. The rich, deep croak of a toad gave away the object’s identity before his eyes recognized what they were seeing. He blinked several more times. “From the east?”

Noiro practically hummed with self-satisfaction. “From the marshlands in the center of the eastern province itself.” She pursed her lips. “And trust me, my Adonis, it was hard as hell to get it!”

Nachari reached out and stroked the toad’s back—testing for the corrosive energy. The vibration itself would tell him whether or not Noiro spoke the truth.

He felt the vaporous potency and almost smiled.

Almost.

He pried a stone free from the floor, a slab he had loosened earlier in anticipation of the four talismans, and placed the frog in the narrow hole beneath the opening.
Be still
and sleep
until I awaken you,
he commanded, watching as the reptile instantly complied. He turned to Noiro. “Help me up…please.” He hated having to ask her for her assistance, but going forward with his plan was more important than his pride. And one day—yes, one day soon—there would be a reckoning unlike anything the demoness had ever seen.
Oh yes, her day would come
.

Noiro sidled up to him, ran her long, bony hand along his skin from his ankles to his shoulders, lingering at his buttock, and groaned. “Soon,” she whispered, clearly lost in carnal thoughts of her own. She grabbed him by the arm and tugged. “Tell me then, did I do good, lover?”

“Well,” he said derisively. “Did I do
well
? And yes, you did fine…for now. But you still owe me a secret.” He leaned against her as she helped him to the bed and then dropped him carelessly, causing him to fall in a battered heap on top of the already soiled blankets. He quickly rolled off his back, biting down on his tongue to keep from crying out. “My clothes.” He pointed toward the tattered rags crumpled in the corner.

“Oh, pooh!” she whined. “Do you have to get dressed?” She stepped forward, curled her hand around his manhood, and slowly stroked it up and down. “I can’t wait to see this marvelous instrument in all its magnificence; won’t you make it hard for me, Nachari? Please…at least give me a taste of what’s to come.”

“
My clothes
,” he repeated.

Rolling her eyes, she huffed her annoyance and retrieved his clothes. “Here.”

He took them and grimaced through the pain as he dressed. “Now then,” he groaned, leaning back onto the bed—he didn’t care that he fell in an awkward position; it was too much work to correct it—“there is still the small matter of trust…and a secret.”

Noiro sat heavily on the bed, jostled his aching body callously, and snorted. “Fine, fine. We may as well get it out of the way.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “Now then, let’s see…a secret.” Her devious eyes lit up. “Your brother Shelby was a very pure soul. I hear he is well respected in the Valley of Spirit and Light.”

Nachari sighed, trying to gather his patience. “The deal, Noiro, was a
secret
: something I don’t already know and can’t easily find out. Something that would place you in jeopardy if anyone knew you told me.” He frowned. “Try again.” He shut his eyes and recited a short Latin incantation beneath his breath so the demoness couldn’t hear. The spell was not strong enough to force her compliance, but it was definitely sufficient to confuse her mind—push her further in the direction of doing his will.

She threw back her head and shook out her hair as if the unruly mane was an erotic crown of glory. “Fine,” she snapped, sounding both irritated and bored. “
Fine
.”

He waited quietly.

“The boy,” she began.

Nachari sat up, alert.

“What boy?”

She turned up her nose in disgust. “The sniveling little accident-waiting-to-happen. You know, the one that follows you around like a lost puppy dog.”

Nachari frowned. “Give me a name.”

“Ha, ha,” she mocked. “As if you don’t know. Braden. Braden Bratianu. Satisfied?”

“Go on,” Nachari urged, suddenly feeling afraid for his young protégé: What could Noiro possibly know about Braden that he didn’t?

“The young acolyte Braden will never have a
destiny
. He is not born of the Curse. He was made. And while he may have been protected by the god Pegasus at the behest of his stepfather Dario, the Blood neither cursed him nor chose him.”

Nachari sat very still for a moment, contemplating all he was hearing. Could the demoness possibly be right? And if so, what did this mean for Braden? “Elaborate…”

Noiro stood up and began pacing around the clammy room. “What more do you need to hear? Shall I spell it out?”

Nachari bit back a curse. “Please do.”

She wheeled around on him. “The boy is a vampire because Dario turned him; however, he is not a product of the Curse! He was not born to a cursed male, nor is he a descendant of one of the original cursed males. Therefore, the gods have not chosen a mate for him—the Curse simply does not apply in his case.”

Nachari inhaled sharply as a dozen questions raced through his mind. “Can he mate with—or marry—a human female, then? And if he does, will he have twin sons? Is he immune from the required sacrifice?”

She shrugged, clearly indifferent. “He can try. No. And yes.”

“What do you mean?” Nachari pressed.

“I mean he can try to mate a human female if he wishes. However, I think we both know how badly such a thing would turn out. After all, he is a vampire—that much is a fact.”

“And the required sacrifice? His twin sons?”

Noiro smiled then, not so much with joy as cunning, the antics of a woman who had the power to shock and unsettle a Master Wizard. “No Curse—no sacrifice.”

Nachari let the information settle as he tossed it around in his head. Of course, if he ever made it back to Dark Moon Vale, he would have to gather his fellow wizards and Napolean and fact-check the information with the light gods, as it were. Even he was not foolish enough to trust a demon with a matter this important, but what if…what if Noiro was telling the truth? Then that would mean—

“Ah, yes…you are finally catching up with me,” Noiro crooned, an eerie self-indulgence in her voice. “Braden Bratianu can sire female children.” She laughed riotously then. “Pity he’ll never have anyone to sire them with.”

Nachari swallowed hard, his mind barely able to weigh the implications. “How do you know this?”

She looked away wistfully. “A brief tryst I had with the dark lord S’usagep—the twin energy of your revered Pegasus.” Her lips turned up in a wry smile. “Mmm, that was quite the…aerobic…affair.”

“And?” Nachari prompted, not at all interested in hearing about Noiro’s demented sex life, past or present.

“And,” she continued, “haven’t you ever wondered why so many of your
destinies
come from broken homes or tragic pasts? Why they’re orphaned or without much to speak of in the way of friends and family? It’s certainly not by accident.” She reached out to stroke his chin, and he had to force himself not to withdraw from her touch in disgust. “In this one matter, preparing a female human for her vampire husband, I’m afraid our twin energies interfere a great deal.”

“So, you’re saying that S’usagep interfered with Dario Bratianu and Lily, then?”

She laughed out loud. “Oh yes. As much and as often as he could.” She stuck her lip out in a pout. “Poor S’usagep did everything he could to steer Lily away from her destined path: She was never intended to marry a human prior to meeting Dario, and she was certainly never intended to bear a human child with a human man. But S’usagep worked tirelessly at hooking her up with anyone he could—anyone but Dario.”

“And that’s how Braden was born?”

“Quite the accident—that kid,” she said.

Nachari frowned, wishing he didn’t have to wait to tear the evil deity’s head off her shoulders. “I’m afraid I have to disagree,” he argued. “Braden is turning out to be quite the miracle: Perhaps you dark lords should stick to what you’re good at—scheming against one another in the underworld.” After all, Lily had divorced her first husband and ultimately married Dario Bratianu anyway—just as the Celestial gods had destined. So Dario had been forced to convert little Braden under the protection of Pegasus, even though he wasn’t his natural-born son, so what? The child had come through the conversion just fine, the first human turned vampire outside of the Curse; he was a blessing to everyone who knew him. Especially to Nachari.

Noiro’s cruel eyes narrowed even further in anger, if that was even possible. “Watch your tongue, boy. You are still a prisoner in my domain, and I can still have you skinned alive!”