7. Slobozia

Chapter 7

Slobozia

M y first thought should be the woman who screams from within the cavern we're barely minutes from reaching, but every neuron in my body yearns to protect the vampiress by my side. My chest pounds as thoughts of a heated battle with Lucas run rampantly through Taylen's mind. No matter what I say, what I do, she needs this, and only an insecure vampire would not let her prove herself when that's exactly what her heart so desperately wants to do.

But it's clear that's going to come with a heavy price tag for me, because whether she likes it or not, I'm not going to let her be hurt, no matter what the penalty she deems justified in doling out to me as a result. I feel it before she even says a word.

Taylen's eyes turn their heat to mine, and her fangs descend. "Do not protect me, vampire. I am a future warrior. I need no protection."

My jaw locks tight, but like it or not, she's not leaving my side. Our troops move in, flanking the cavern as the witches, masters, and lords move steadily forward, guiding us inward and into the damp and dark interior of the caves. We trudge forward with our keen night vision and the light of the witches' stones to guide us. Another scream echoes through the walls of the dank halls.

Lucianna whispers urgently, "Embry."

All of us quicken our pace but are also cautious that it just may be a trap. The walls of the cavern are dark and quiet but we move steadily to the interior of the mountain far out of range, slipping into other crevices where no human could ever fit. When we reach the sacred cavern, the black marble walls and floors etched in gold come into focus, glistening in the darkness around it. The golden throne that sits in the center of the wall, meant for our overlord is where the bastard, Lucas, lies in wait, sitting underneath the Descallia crest of deep red.

His red eyes are filled with heat and hatred for our kind. He flicks an imaginary piece of lint from his dark cape as he sits with one leg on either side of Embry, who sits chained on the floor in front of him, his knife held tightly at Embry's throat, waiting to see if we'll attack.

Not one of us will. Not without a direct order from the overlord, because everyone in this room knows the relationship between Lucianna, our future queen, and the woman who now finds herself hostage to the traitorous beast and sits helpless on the floor.

Emotion rolls in waves from Taylen. She takes in the carnage strewn across the cavern floor, no doubt left by the evil bastard because he wanted us to see. A well-thought-out scene where he gets to gloat over his victory while sitting in the overlord's chair as we walk in. But it will be a short-lived victory for the bastard because not one of us plans to take this lying down or let him leave this cavern alive. Every one of the masters here is on the ready, waiting for the order to put the fucker down.

Overlord places a hand on Lucianna's shoulder, to calm or quiet her fears as she watches her closest friend's life hang in the balance. We wait for a sign, a command or anything that would give us the go ahead to attack, but Descallia does not plan to lose or go too quickly.

He gestures to his golden chair. "You sit on a throne, yet you're a leader of none. The men you used to lead, they looked up to and respected you." Descallia's voice raises as his eyes turn from dark black to red and his fangs descend. "Yet that wasn't enough power for you, Lucas? You were second in command to all we hold dear, but it was too little? Not enough for your greedy dark soul?"

Lucas laughs, the high-pitched sound that I've grown to sense as a cover for fear. "Do not look down your nose at me you high-handed bastard. I gave you centuries to do the right thing, to learn that the humans want nothing from us but to bury us in the ground, that the syndicate boys you now rub elbows with want nothing more than the power you hold. But you would rather get in bed with them and continue building your empire than to embrace your own and our ways. You brought this on yourself, Descallia. Soon you will be an overmaster of none."

Overlord Descallia glares at the man who dares speak to him in this manner after years of service. He gestures to Embry, still chained to the foot of the throne. "And Embry, what has she done to deserve her current plight? All she's done is help the vampires, care about you, and want to make our world a better place to live. Yet, you throw all of that away, and threaten her very existence with a knife at the throat?"

Lucas pulls Embry's purple hair back tight and her eyes blink, absorbing the pain for a moment as though drawing more energy from it. She should be very afraid of the bastard, but the look she gives the witches tells me she's not one little bit. The look is brief, but it's enough, and the minute the path of light coming from the stones switches and blinds Lucas he moves the blade from her throat to defend himself against the assault of the bright lights and what he thinks might come, giving the witches an opportunity to free Embry with a wave of the wand.

Embry lowers her head and grabs Lucas's legs, throwing him off balance to get away from the knife, at least until Descallia yells, "Attack!"

The next minute Embry is swinging the weight of the chains upward, and hits Lucas on the side of his head at the same time my dagger flies through the air and catches him in the chest.

His eyes flare red, and he manages to capture Embry around the neck with an arm, as if daring us to come one step closer. I watch Embry and the witches carefully, seeing the look that passes between them and Taylen.

I grab my stake, at the ready if needed, but Taylen is more than prepared. She flies through the air, her stake already out, driving in front of her rage-forced flight, staking him right into the open wound I've laid in his chest. Taylen's accuracy sends him to the ground, a perfect hit, unable to move or disappear to recover, and instead to a death becoming of the evil dark soul who can rot in hell for an eternity.

Lucianna runs to Embry, holding her tight, the two of them hugging as the witches join them, all overcome with emotion at the sight of their friend in such close peril but relieved that she's now safe. At last everyone can breathe.

I join Taylen, who's retreated to a recessed corner of the cave. She may think she's not noticed there, but there's nowhere she can go that I don't feel her very presence. Every neuron in my body knows exactly where she is at this minute, as though she were an extension of me.

I transport toward her, take her arm, and walk with her down the length of the darkened hall, out of the way of prying eyes not because I give two fucks what people think. But because she does, and I don't want to cause her any unnecessary concern about what the other masters might think.

Taylen turns her bright red eyes to mine, but her heart is racing far too fast. She is still breathing hard and her adrenaline is still running much too high. I stroke the length of her neck with a gentle finger, caressing the pulse that beats wildly below the surface. "Slow breaths. Even the most toughened warriors need a calming mechanism after such a quick and sudden attack. You did extraordinarily well, Taylen. If you had not delivered that stake so quickly, we may have lost him for good. You are a true warrior. I'm sure today's battle will earn you the right to join the team."

She looks up at me with a heartfelt genuine smile that causes my chest to tighten with something I've not ever felt before nor ever wanted to feel, until her. She feels it too, whether the dark-haired beauty wants to admit it or not. This thing between us is far from one sided. No, destiny has zapped us both with the magic of her rod, whether I wanted it to happen or not.

Her still-racing heart and the scent of arousal wafting through the air, mingling between us is not unnoticed by me. As though destiny needed to entice us further with its scent.

I should restrain myself as a master of power, knowing that she's destined to be a warrior and any overtures I make could be construed as a person in a position of power seeking sexual rewards. But none of that seems to matter in the least. I draw her to me, my hand snaking around the nape of her creamy neck, my finger still stroking that tantalizing pulse as I bring her in for a kiss that I will no longer deny us.

Her sweetness is better than any one of the fantasies I've had, a honey taste that melds in my senses and sends a jolt of desire directly to my cock. She responds as though she were made just for me, her body softening into mine, rigid hardness against the soft firmness of her belly. My hands slide down the length of her, lifting her with one fell swoop as she wraps the length of her lean legs around me. I hold the firmness of her heart-shaped ass in the palms of my hands, and know in this moment that if I take her here, everyone will know and it will be the end of us in the end.

She pants against me, and any thought of denying this thing between us dies on her lips. "Touch me, vampire."