Valteri entered the hall and breathed a weary sigh. After spending the entire afternoon at the castle’s construction site and listening to the builders instruct him on how many more men they’d need come spring … and all the different supplies he’d need to order by then, Valteri wanted nothing more than to find his wife and enjoy a quiet evening in solitude.
Preferably naked.
God help Wace if he disturbed him for anything other than the donjon being on fire.
And that change wasn’t lost on him. Never had he thought to crave the presence of any person as much as he craved Ariel’s.
She was the air he breathed.
His bare sustenance.
He pushed open the door to their chambers and froze.
The tunic Ariel had been mending lay folded on his bed, but no other sign of her existed.
Cecile ran out from under the bed, collided with his legs, then proceeded to circle his feet.
Frowning, Valteri placed his helm and gloves on the table beside the bed and stooped over to gently rub the kitten’s head.
“Where is our lady?” he asked, but his only answer came as a soft meow.
Where could Ariel have gone? It wasn’t like her to venture far when she knew he was returning.
She must be researching in the chapel.
He looked there first, and found it empty.
A quick search of the hall and bailey yielded nothing, either. As he entered the stable, a disembodied voice stopped him. “If you seek my sister, then I fear you’ve again allowed her to escape.”
Tired of hearing the demon in his ear, he turned toward Belial. “What say you?”
His expression grim, he stepped out of the shadows, his eyes hollow.
Valteri held the distinct impression the demon’s anger had reached its shattering point.
Belial shook his head, disbelief flickering in his light gaze. “’Twould appear our little bird has lied to both of us. A new skill that, and I must say that I’m very impressed. She told you that she’d be by your side forever and me that she was riding out to join you. But if you’re here seeking her … It can only mean that she’s flown.”
He shook his head as if he couldn’t comprehend it. “An unbelievable action, really. I never thought her capable of such.”
Valteri’s blood ran cold. “Then how do you know she left?”
“Since she’s been gone all afternoon … it’s the only thing that makes sense, isn’t it? She left the same time the Saxons did. You haven’t seen her and she hasn’t returned. What other deduction can be made than she ran off with them?”
The bastard was right, but he didn’t want to admit that.
“Perhaps she’s with Thorn or Shadow?”
Belial shook his head. “Already asked, and they appeared as baffled as you are.”
Valteri bit back a curse. “Do you know which way they went?”
Belial snorted, his eyes bitterly amused. “They rode to the north when they left here, as if they were riding toward the castle, but they may have altered their direction once they were out of sight.”
Wanting to punch the smug bastard in the face, Valteri grabbed a fresh horse and saddled it. With practiced ease, he worked the leather straps around the horse’s belly and his thoughts focused on his wife.
Had Ethbert taken her, or had she left of her own accord?
I’m such a fool.
Ever since he’d almost been crushed, she’d been more and more panicked. He should have seen this coming.
She was trying to protect him, and while he appreciated the thought, he wanted to strangle her, too.
I should have eased her fears more.
This was all his fault. If something happened to her because of it, he’d never forgive himself.
Valteri tightened the cinch with one last tug then swung himself up on the horse.
“Do you not wish for supplies?” Belial asked, a strange glow in his eyes.
“Nay.” All he wanted was for this bastard to get out of his way.
Literally and figuratively.
Ariel had already been gone most of the day.
Would he be able to find them?
If he rode through the night, he might be able to overtake them. Provided they stopped to sleep.
Surely they hadn’t been traveling without stopping for breaks. If they’d done that, he should be able to catch up to them.
Well, there was only one way to find out.
Wheeling his horse about, he kicked it into a full run.
Ariel stared at the flames of the fire, her mind traveling back to the blizzard and how Valteri had found her in the storm.
How he’d made love to her in their damp little cottage.
The fire before her warmed her cheeks, but did nothing for the coldness inside her, the coldness that needed her husband’s touch.
The empty ache inside her threatened to swallow her whole. God, if it hurt this much now, how was she supposed to live the rest of her life without him? This was excruciating.
Watching him die would be worse.
That was the only thing that kept her going.
This was to save him. Not only his life, but his soul.
And the world.
She had to do this.
Ariel closed her eyes against the agony that tightened her throat. Truthfully, all she wanted was to go back to him.
“Milady?”
She looked up at Ethbert, his face shadowed by the darkness. He extended a bowl of porridge toward her. “I thought you might be hungry.”
“My thanks.” She took it from his hands even though her cramped stomach protested the smell.
He squatted by her side and tossed more wood on the fire. Strange how that had seemed so incredibly sexy whenever Valteri did it and yet it left her completely unaffected now.
After a silent minute, he looked back at her. “He won’t find us. You’re safe now.”
Safe.
That was the least of her concerns. The Saxon had no idea what she was really running from.
And her stomach clenched at the thought of Valteri.
Would he ever understand what she’d done and why?
Or would his pain be so great that he wouldn’t even care about the reasons?
Pain squeezed her heart in a brutal grip that stole her breath. The last thing she’d ever wanted was to be another regret for him.
I’m so sorry, my love.
“Milady?” Ethbert’s concerned tone did nothing to alleviate the misery inside her. He touched her arm and it took all her control not to flinch or flee. He’d been so very kind since they left, but he wasn’t Valteri and she wanted no other man to touch her in any way.
“I am fine.” Offering him a smile, she took a hesitant bite of porridge.
With a nod, he rose to his feet. She sensed he wanted to say something more.
The younger of his brothers—Arthur, if she remembered his name correctly—stepped forward with a blanket.
Ethbert took it, then wrapped it around her shoulders. “You should rest yourself and try not to worry overmuch. I’ll not let anything harm you. I swear it.”
Thanking him, Ariel set the porridge aside and settled down by the fire. She drew the blanket up to her chin, and wished to the gods that things had been different.
Damn you, fate and curses.
Ethbert and his brothers had dug through the snow to make her a pallet on the ground, but still the cold dampness seeped through her body.
Watching the flickering flames in front of her, she allowed her thoughts to drift.
For a while she remembered her real home, with her father and mother. While they’d seen her trained in her duties and had instilled in her an indelible sense of honor, they had basically been absentee parents.
Michael because he had other duties that kept him away, and her mother, Lailah, preferred fighting against Kadar and the rest.
Really, she barely knew her mother. As an Arel, she hadn’t possessed enough curiosity to ever ask about either of them. How they’d come together to create her. Though to be honest, her father and his ilk were prone to leave children like her strewn about.
It was something they all accepted. Those like her who were Arelim did their duties and never questioned their births.
Those like Shadow, who were of mixed blood, hated their Arelim origins that had been used against them. At least all the ones she’d ever met.
Funny how she’d never given any thought to that before. It’d never mattered.
An Arel didn’t question. They just obeyed.
Being human had changed that. Now she was curious and she wanted to know if her parents had ever cared for each other. Had her mother ever felt like this?
Or her father?
Sighing, she thought of her brethren and friends. She knew more about Wace and Mildred than she did those she’d fought beside for centuries.
And none of them filled her with the passion that Valteri did.
In truth, the Arelim were a bit stodgy. They were nothing like Shadow and Thorn.
Or Valteri.
All rules and decorum, her ilk were an extremely boring lot.
How weird that she had accepted their muted emotions as “normal.”
But then, like Valteri with how others reacted to him, she’d never seen or experienced anything else.
Therefore, she’d never questioned it or thought about what she was missing out on.
While she’d been content, it was nothing like the happiness she felt in his arms.
“Ariel?”
Her blood ran cold at the last voice she expected to hear.
Belial.
Scanning the campsite, she tried her best to find a trace of the beast. All she saw was Ethbert and his brothers, talking on the other side of the fire.
Damn him for his tracking abilities. How could she ever avoid that beast?
“So, here you are,” the disembodied voice said in her ear.
She turned to see the winged shadow beside her. “You wager much appearing this close to the humans.”
He laughed, his voice ringing through the trees, but she knew its pitch was higher than that which the human ear could detect.
The night animals screeched and gave flight at the insidious sound.
In response to the animals, Ethbert and his brothers unsheathed their swords and looked about the forest.
“Milady? Fear not!” Ethbert returned to her side. “Hubert is going to check on the noise we heard.”
She nodded.
His brother clapped him on the back before heading into the woods.
“Pathetic bastards.” Belial laughed. “Do you think I should gather wolves to feast on his hide? Or maybe feed him to something worse?”
“Nay!” she gasped.
Ethbert looked at her with a frown. “You don’t want him to go?”
Ariel cast a heated glare to Belial, then looked back at Ethbert, her temper carefully shielded. “It wasn’t your brother’s search that I spoke of. Rather a response to the sudden cold that bites my flesh.”
He offered her a knowing smile. “I shall get you another blanket.”
Belial brushed a cold, shadowy hand against her cheek. “What a liar you’ve become. I’m impressed by your abilities. What would your father say?”
“For me to gut you.” Ariel slapped at his hand and a fierce jolt shot through her arm.
Belial tsked. “Now, now, little Ariel, you know better than that. You can’t harm me when I’m in this form.” He wrinkled his nose. “You’re still mortal.”
Ariel trembled. He was getting ever stronger. Soon she’d be no match for his powers, and he’d have the strength to brew whatever evil he wanted.
What would she do then?
Ethbert returned with the promised blanket. He offered her a timid smile as he draped it over her. “Rest easy, milady. I’m sure the noise was nothing serious.”
“Thank you.” She returned his smile.
When he’d left her once more to join his brothers, she turned toward Belial. “Why are you here?”
“I wanted to find you.”
She glared at him. “Why?”
Before Belial could answer, she heard a horse approach. Dread took root in her heart.
“Nay,” she whispered, knowing the rider even without seeing him. Panic consumed her.
Valteri stormed into the clearing, scattering Ethbert and his kin.
Ariel scrambled from her pallet to rush toward the demon. “You treacherous beast!” she snarled at Belial as he drifted away from her. “How could you?”
“’Tis what I do.” He laughed.
Ariel wanted to tear him apart. If only she had her Arel powers, Belial would be in more misery than if he faced Kadar himself.
If she ever returned to her own body, she’d beat him worse than a Malachai.
Unsheathing his sword, Ethbert shouted at Valteri, “Nay, you evil bastard! You’ll never take her.”
Those words brought a whole new terror to her.
Don’t you dare!
Ariel looked back toward her husband. The Saxons were no match for his skill. He would tear them apart.
Valteri had reined to a stop. His spine rigid, he stared down at the Saxons. A sudden gust of wind caressed the blond braid he wore draped over his right shoulder and billowed his cloak out behind him.
Even from her distance, she could see the malice shining in his mismatched eyes. “Don’t make me kill you, Saxon. ’Tis my wife solely that I want. Give her over and you may leave in peace.”
She held her breath as Ethbert charged forward.
Valteri’s horse reared, dancing away from Ethbert’s sword. “I’d rather send you to hell first!”
With expert skill, Valteri brought his horse under control, then slid from his saddle and unsheathed his sword. He headed for the Saxon, his eyes filled with bloodlust.
They couldn’t fight! Not with the curse and not with her present to witness the event. ’Twould be Valteri’s death!
Valteri and Ethbert doffed their cloaks.
“Nay!” She ran toward them and placed herself between them before they could engage each other.
She grabbed Valteri’s brown woolen tunic and held tight. “Milord, please, for my sake do not do this.”
He wrapped his arm about her and held her close to his chest. “Did they take you or did you leave?”
She choked on a sob, feeling his heartbeat race beneath her fingertips. The thought of touching his chest and not feeling that steady throb …
“There’s no chance for us. You know that. I am your death.”
His jaw tensed. “Don’t you dare say that! ’Tis not so.”
“Aye, Valteri, but it is, and I beseech you to leave while you still can. You must live for me.”
“I’d rather die for you.”
“That I can oblige!” Ethbert grabbed her and shoved her into his brother’s arms. “Hold her, Arthur.”
“Nay!” She tried to break free, but Arthur held fast.
“This is between us, Norman. ’Tis time for you to pay for the souls you’ve taken. The innocent lives you’ve destroyed.”
They crossed swords.
Ethbert spat at him. “Give your hellish master my best!”
Metal clanked against metal, the sound blistering her soul.
“Please, God, no!” she cried, the words searing her throat.
She winced at the sight of them fighting and the memories she had of countless battles.
Only in the past, she didn’t care who won or lost. Because her role had been simple.
Claim the soul of the loser and take him to her boss.
Now …
She cared about the outcome.
Most of all, she cared about Valteri, and she refused to watch him die.
Suddenly, a light broke over their heads.
Ariel looked up through her tears and gasped. Invisible to the men, Raziel descended.
His armor glistened as he glanced at the combatants then slung his hand out toward her.
The impact sent her reeling and knocked her from Arthur’s grasp.
Or so she thought.
Catching herself, she realized that they still held her human body. But she stood outside herself, dressed in her Arel armor.
Raziel tossed her battle sword to her. “Protect your husband.”
Grateful beyond belief, she rushed forward and caught Ethbert’s sword with her own and sent it flying.
So … Raziel was Valteri’s guardian.
Her husband was wrong. He wasn’t alone, after all. That was why Raziel had come to her before. Not because of her.
Because of Valteri.
More grateful than she’d ever been, Ariel stood between the men and kicked Ethbert back, away from Valteri, so that her husband could catch his breath.
Belial flew forward with a snarl. “Nay! This is not for you to interfere!”
Raziel blasted Belial back with a power-bolt, his face contorted by rage. “This isn’t Valteri’s time to die, demon. You’d do well to remember we are not to interfere! Nor are you to harm a hair on the head of Jaden’s son.”
Ariel almost dropped her sword as relief tore through her.
This isn’t Valteri’s time. That single phrase lightened her heart as she repeated it over and over, reveling in its sweet sound.
Her brethren would help her protect him.
Yet even so, Ethbert rushed toward Valteri and caught him about his waist. Valteri tossed his own sword aside and the two fought with their fists.
She stepped back and let them get their rage out.
Belial flew to her side. He started to reach for her, but one swipe of the sword and he knew better than to try. With this weapon, she could kill him.
“Don’t smile yet, Arel. You might have him tonight, but come tomorrow…”
She glared at him. “Really, Belial? Must you be such a cliché? Just once, can’t you be something more than what Kadar bred you for?”
He bared his fangs at her before he vanished.
The fistfight continued on for a few minutes more until Valteri knocked Ethbert to the ground.
Retrieving his sword, he held it to Ethbert’s throat. “Leave off this fight, Saxon,” he said, his breathing labored.
Ethbert leaned back against his elbows and glared up at Valteri, his gaze harsh and damning.
His sword never wavering, Valteri looked to her. “Ariel?”
She handed the sword back to Raziel. “Thank you.”
He inclined his head to her. “Be careful.”
“Always.” And with that, Raziel reunited her with her mortal body.
She gasped as the cold seeped into her flesh.
Arthur released her just as Hubert returned to the clearing. Rebellion glowed in both their eyes, but Valteri pressed his sword tip closer to Ethbert’s throat. “Don’t,” he warned them, his tone most lethal. Hubert dropped his sword and moved to stand beside Arthur.
Relieved that the fight was over, she went to her husband.
Valteri wrapped a protective arm about her, then removed his sword from Ethbert’s throat and sheathed it. “I suggest you be on your way, Saxon. Neither you nor your brothers are welcome on my lands ever again.”
Gently, Valteri set her up on his horse, then mounted behind her.
Ethbert didn’t move from his place on the ground, but his glare was such that she almost expected him to rise and again attack Valteri.
Valteri ignored his hatred. Kicking his horse forward, her husband held her close as they left the Saxon camp.
In spite of the fact that he said nothing, Ariel sensed the pain inside him and she longed to soothe it.
Leagues flew by before Ariel found the courage to speak. “I had to leave.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you come for me?”
Anger mixed with tenderness in his eyes and his arms tightened about her waist. “I will always come for you, Ariel. I can’t live without you.”
Though his words brought a painful, warm rush to her heart, frustration claimed her and she wanted to shout at him to see reason.
Instead, she bit her tongue.
How could she argue when the love that made her leave was the same love that made him come after her?
It was so cruel.
So bitter.
And so incredibly precious and sweet.
What were they going to do?
Theirs was an impossible situation.
Belial grimaced. Once more the internal pull tightened his gut. “Damn it!”
He had to go. Whether he wanted to or not.
Closing his eyes, he surrendered to the bidding he hated most. Light shot around him as he fell through the dimensions of time and space and into the pit of the Nether Realm that held his noose.
His body aching, he soon found himself in the deepest pit of Kadar’s prison.
Just as he’d expected, he landed in the main throne room. Orange lights danced along the dark walls. Screams echoed around him and he looked up to his master’s bone-encrusted throne.
To his shock, it wasn’t Kadar or Azura.
Death sat on the throne.
Audacious and stupid. He’d give Grim that. Ballsy beyond ballsy. Although, if either god caught him, Grim wouldn’t have his balls for long.
Even if he was Kadar’s son-in-law.
Handsome and devious, Grim stared at him as if he’d like nothing better than to rip his demon flesh apart. He stroked the bleeding demon chained to the throne’s arm and raked a hostile glare over Belial.
Granted, Belial had never cared for Grim even when they’d battled together, but still he had to admire his bravery right now.
“Greetings, Belial.”
“Where’s Kadar?”
Grim shrugged. “Amusing himself with some poor slug, no doubt.”
“Then why was I summoned?”
An evil smile curved his lips and a tremor of fear chilled Belial’s spine. “A little demon told me what you’re up to.”
“Six feet?”
Grim wasn’t amused. “Your plan, nimrod.”
Trying to remain nonchalant, he looked about, curious as to who had betrayed him. He knew it wouldn’t be Thorn or Shadow. While they might not like him, they had even less love for Grim. Last time Shadow had been near him, he’d almost fed the bastard his own intestines.
As for Thorn, they had once been allies.
Now they were mortal enemies, and if Grim could deliver Thorn’s head to Kadar, he’d gladly do so.
Nay, someone else had heard him.
Who?
In this place? There was no telling. Every corner had ears.
Or eyes.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Grim laughed, balling his fist up in the demon’s hair, causing it to hiss and bare its fangs. His hand froze and a delightful gleam lightened his red hue. “Don’t play coy, brother. You want your freedom. We all do. Do you really have the soul of an Arel in your palm?”
Belial relaxed a degree as he realized that Grim had no knowledge of Valteri fitzJaden. “If I did, what’s it to you?”
Grim left the throne and approached him slowly. “Have you given thought as to what would happen if you bypassed our master and gave her over to the Malachai instead?”
Not really.
Grim slapped him on the head. “Think, imbecile! The prophecy!”
Belial gasped as he remembered.
As it began, so it would end.
A child born of light and dark.
The final Malachai.
“But she’s destined to die.”
“Then you better protect her, little brother. We need that bitch to breed with Adarian Malachai. If she does…”
They could overthrow the dark powers.
Take the throne and the world themselves.
He grabbed him up by his neck and held Belial before him. “That was always your shortcoming, Belial. You never saw the bigger picture.”
But he did now, and it was glorious. “What if the Malachai doesn’t accept her?”
“Born. In. Violence.” Grim growled each word. “To do violence and to die violently.” That was the creed of the Malachai race. “The very nature of that beast is that he rapes the mother of his heir. Trust me. Put her with him and he will do what it is that he does. All we need is your little Arel and nature will take its course. He won’t be able to help himself. She is a creature of light and he will attack her.”
Why had he not thought of that?
Because unlike Grim, he wasn’t a servant to the Malachai.
In fact, the Malachai tended to pull the wings off demons like him. Which caused him to avoid the Malachai as much as possible.
Just like any demon with a brain in their head would do. Unlike Grim, who’d once been a god.
“Are you sure this will work?”
Grim laughed. “I was there in the beginning when the Malachai race was cursed. The one thing I know is the Malachai bloodline. Bring me your Arel and I will give you your freedom.”
In spite of the pain, he smiled. This was even better than the curse.
Fuck it! He didn’t have to wait for anyone to die. All he had to do was get Ariel here.
“I’ll have her back in no time.”
“Don’t fail me, Belial.”
“I won’t.”
Suddenly, he found himself returned to the forest. He reached behind his back and touched his aching spine. When he pulled his hand away, he saw the blood.
You bastard. He’d always hated Grim.
Sadistic bitch.
Groaning, Belial stretched out on the ground, needing time to regain his strength.
Fine. New plan.
And this one was going to be so easy.…