Fury lashed at Calypso as she was tossed over a sweat slicked shoulder, the male grasping her legs tightly. His shoulder dug into her belly as he trotted up the stairs. The bunch and flex of muscle beneath her teased her senses. Blowing the hair out of her face, she glanced around, only seeing the shadows of his loincloth and the sweat glistening on his skin.
Watching the stairs fade away into the darkness, she shivered. She wiggled, kicking as she was carried along the dank, narrow stairwell. She’d had enough of being muscled about by a male. Death was preferable to being treated as an object.
Smacking at his back, she winced at the pain in her hands, her voice dropping ominously. “Put me down, you lummox. I’ll not be tossed about like some wayward sack of potatoes or one of the wenches you’ve surely bedded.”
“Aye, you are not like anyone I’ve ever seen.” He slapped her ass, his hand resting on it for longer than necessary. “You’re more. Be silent, female, else they hear us.”
She felt the slam of arousal course through her. Heat pooled in her belly, and she shifted. Alarm and fear raced through her at the very notion of being aroused. Memories stirred, only intensifying the emotions.
“Let me down. Now.” Dear gods above, please no, not again. I don’t want to go back. Please, Flidais, be merciful. Renewing her struggles, Calypso barely felt the warmth of his touch as he shifted her, pulling her tight against his chest. Kicking, spitting, she fought, desperation making her clumsy.
“Shh, little one. It’ll be okay,” he soothed as he ducked beneath the archway and turned the corner. He dropped behind a cart full of barrels and peered out. “I’ll protect you, this I vow.”
“No.”
“Shh.” He slid her down to rest against the wagon wheel, his hand cupped over her mouth.
Calypso heard the rushed steps and caught the line of soldiers darting past them. She tensed, her fingers clenched into fists as she waited for the guards to spot them. When they vanished, seemingly unaware of their whereabouts, she offered a quick prayer for the guard’s inability to see the mystical disguises woven around them and glanced upward. Pale eyes smiled down at her as he stood, lifting her up over his shoulder again. Before she could speak, he darted up the stairs and headed for the outer doors.
“We must get out of this town.” He grunted as they stepped into the sunlight. Guards milled about searching for them, their brilliant red clothes standing out in the staid, monotone visage of the commoners. “East. Aye, east it must be.”
“No.” Calypso twisted and kicked. She gasped as he set her down, fear tightening around her throat. “I will not be—”
“So you have said, my lady. Come now, we’ve no time for this.” He grabbed her wrist and tugged. “If they find us, we’re both dead. I, for one, have no desire to die on a Roman’s blade, nor do I desire to die for someone’s pleasure. East we will go.”
“Not until you tell me why!” Calypso tugged uselessly against his grip.
She shuddered with each step. Her heart pounded in her chest, the memories dancing through her mind. The last male who had captured her had not been kind. He’d been brutal and cruel in his punishments, in his vices, and she couldn’t shake the fear this time would be a repeat of that.
“Please, Angrail, master. Please.” Whispering the prayer, she gasped when the male tugging at her paused to pin her to the wall. Men rushed by, the sounds of shouting and whips cracking filling the air. She watched them being driven into the small opening in the wall, some carried welts and cuts across their bodies.
“Your master cannot help us.”
“He is the only one who can help me.” Calypso looked into his eyes. Her heart stuttered before jumping wildly in her chest.
The awareness in the male’s eyes eased the fear clawing at her. She shook her head as something within her stirred, an image which put her fears to rest.
“It was you.” She pressed tighter to the wall. “That night my master came to us it was you in my dream. I lay bleeding, begging for death, a release from the pain, and I felt you.”
“I know not what you speak of.”
“You pulled me from his palace, from my place at the head of his house. To this.” She waved a hand around at the bustle of the city. “Why?”
“Come.” He grabbed her hand, linking their fingers together, and tugged. “We will discover this truth you seek, but we must go. Now.”
Calypso followed him. Dazed as memories surfaced, and wishes, dreams she’d all but forgotten flared to life. From the ashes of her nightmares she could feel a renewed sense of something happening. The warmth of his touch soothed the confusion, but did little to clear it as they hurried through the throngs of humans. One thought came to mind, one that solidified until there was no other. He was more than simply human—and he was hers.
* * * *
From above the street, Marshelit watched the pair closely. Already their auras were blending, soon they’d be as one. Fae and falock would be an impressive match, if the male knew what he was. If he didn’t, it would make things much easier for Marshelit—there would be no hesitation, no resistance to sucking the very life force from him.
A twisted snicker of glee escaped as they vanished into the crowd. With the two together, it would take little to steal their powers. With their gifts he truly would be unstoppable. Even the gods would bow before him. Aye, he’d have it all. Power. Immortality.
“I will have it,” he declared and teleported away. Slipping back into the wiccan realm, he paced. “She has more power than any fae I’ve encountered. With her connection to the mist it is likely she’d have some power over death. I could utilize it. Seduce her into yielding her power. Then I would take his. Drain him of life until there is nothing more.” He scratched at the stubble on his jaw. “But if I were to wait until she is with child, I would have the ultimate feed. I would have more power than ever.”
He rubbed his hands together, his mind whirling with the temptation of such power. They would bow before him, worship the very ground he walked upon. There would be none who would dare refuse him.
“No, no. It is too long, they may not breed immediately. I must do it now. I must have the power.” He shook his head. “It is within my grasp. I will do what needs doing.” Marshelit paused, his gaze sweeping across the lush greenery of his world.
Massive trees rose to the sky, the ground beneath them alive with snakes and other slithery creatures. Rich, pure, the very world was alive with power he could feed off. The smell of smoke and spruce hung in the air like a fine perfume. The faint sounds of the winds whispering to each other filled his ears. Contentment flowed over him, yet he fought it.
It wasn’t enough. He wanted more. Wanted the status of a god. Even if it meant destroying the fae completely. Aye, his plan would do. First though, he had to draw attention away. He had to turn the eyes of all immortals away from him, from his task, so they would not interfere.
With a flicker of glee he rubbed his hands together. He knew just the thing to shift the attention away from him. If it risked the other worlds, it was of little consequence to him. Once he was in possession of their gifts he’d be unstoppable, and a mere thought would take care of the wayward general.
“It will all be mine. Then she will have to bow before me! Indeed, she will bow and beg for mercy before I cast her into stone.” Closing his eyes, he wove a spell, the air around him splitting open to create a portal.
Stepping through it, Marshelit glanced at the area he was in. Salt filled the air, the smell of seaweed mixed in. He could hear the waves crashing into the rocks, an unending ebb and flow of water and stone. Without a second glance at the ocean, he turned and strode along the narrow ledge. Rock jutted out of the mountainside, bare of all foliage. Silent guards against the evil trapped within their dark depths. Twisted, cracked, a monstrous green and black stone rose toward the sky.
“It is time.” Marshelit hunched down as he stared at the weathered rock wall before him. He could see the first hints of decay, smell it in the air as he appraised the cliff. Sunlight glinted off the little used gate to Saltar’s prison. He snickered. Even the crazed vampire had no idea of it. “For now.” Rising to his feet, he lifted a hand and cast a glowing orb of light into the stone.
The sound of rock crumbling, rolling and banging against each other, was loud in the silence. Huge chunks gave way, crashing to the valley floor in large sheets of earthen stone and shattering into pieces, clouds of dust rolling upward.
“Yes, yes, soon it will be mine.” He giggled, the maniacal sound bouncing off the rocks to echo along the canyon walls. Spinning and dancing, he wallowed in the glee as he contemplated what he had set in motion.
* * * *
Trees lined the narrow road, and high grass blew gently in the wind as they trudged along. Silence stretched between them, tight, sharp, it felt as though it could cut like a knife. Lucien glanced over at the quiet female at his side. The sun cast a golden glow across her body, her bare skin glistening with sweat as they moved through the heat of the afternoon. He could smell the faint scent of earth, of spring, with every gust blowing around them.
“So what is it you plan on doing?” She glanced up at him, a dark look in her eyes. “I’m not one for...”
“I’ve no intent to hurt you.” Lucien shrugged at her words, the echo of her racing heart loud in his ears. “You are my female, I must protect you. The Romans will not be so kind to you if they catch us. You’ve dispatched a fair number of their warriors.”
“You think I fear them?” She froze, her lips parted in shock. She trembled, her eyes darkened to a deep green unlike anything he’d seen before. “I fear no human, slave. Not even you. You should fear me. Once I understand what you have done I will kill you. This you can be certain of.”
Lucien laughed softly and cupped her face, his thumb tracing over the plump curve. “Come, little one, let us go.” Without a backward glance, Lucien began walking again. He smiled at the sound of her steps behind him but didn’t spare her a look.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere safe. East would be... No, no. The Romans are to the East. South would be best. I’ve heard there are still parts of this world where the Romans hold no sway. It is there we will find freedom.”
“I’m no slave!” she hissed, the wind gusting around them. Leaves swirled and danced around their ankles as they stepped off the rocky road into the lush grass on the edge of a thick forest. The scent of fresh grass lifted to his nose and teased his senses.
“Nay, you are not. But they’ll not care. Come now, be quick about it, my girl.”
“I am not yours. I have a name.” She slapped at his outstretched hand, then stepped back and glared at him. “Unlike you, a common, weak mortal, my kind does not need to worry about death. But of course you would not understand this at all, would you, human?”
“You keep calling me human, what is it you think I am?”
“Nothing. You are nothing to me.” She pushed her hair away from her face and followed him. “Do not call me little one or yours. I am neither.”
“Aye, what then is your name?” Lucien ducked under a moss-covered log and turned to lift her down a slight incline. He ignored the heat that flared in his hands at the light touch, the softness of her skin stirring an unfamiliar ache.
“Calypso. I am a servant of Angrail, guide to the gates of paradise,” she snapped at him. “And my master will be most displeased to hear of your—”
“My what? My insistence upon keeping you safe? Perhaps.” He chuckled and shook his head. “But then perhaps not. It would seem to me, Cali, if you intended to kill me, you would have done it before now. Come. We’ve wasted enough time on idle chatter.”
“Idle? Idle?” Indignant, she crossed her arms over her chest, the move pushing her breasts up to spill over the top of her corset. “I hardly think we are having idle chatter, you pathetic—”
“Lucien. Not human,” he interrupted. “My name is Lucien. The sun will set soon, it is best we are far from the prying eyes of any who would take the road.”
“I was evading capture of far more worthy adversaries long before you were whelped, you twit.” Calypso slapped his chest and turned in a circle.
He tilted his head to the side, taking in every line, every inch of her. Eyes closed, she held her palms up, a slight breeze playing with the loose tendrils of her hair as she turned. She rolled her shoulders, flexing her fingers. She moved her arms as though dancing, the slow, sultry wave of them like branches of a tree. A mystical glow surrounded her, the faint hint of green filling the air around her. He tensed, his hand going to the sword at his side when she twitched before she knelt at his feet.
Her hair flowed over her shoulders, pooling around his ankles, leaves and twigs tangled in the dark strands. As if a living being, it moved, flowing, twisting around him like roots of an old gnarled tree. He shuddered when she glanced up, her eyes a solid white, lines of brown and green trailing across her skin.
“We must go north. My goddess will grant us favor in the north.” She stood and dusted her hands off. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her nails glittering with the movement. A quick blink and her eyes were back to their normal color, a curious expression in their depths.
What sorcery had created a creature with eyes that changed like a summer storm cloud? He reached out to trace the curve of her ear, a slight frown of confusion tugging at his face. What sort of woman would have pointed ears? Delicately made, the peak was decorated with tiny vines and leaves, earrings hung down, blending into the flesh with ease. A soft gasp had him starting and he stared into her wide eyes.
“Do not even think it, human.” She shoved at his chest and turned to stalk deeper into the forest. “North, Lucien. North.”
“Think of what?” Pushing the thought aside, he turned and hurried after her. “You will answer me, what is it I’m not to think of?”
“I am not about to sit around and discuss your male needs. I refuse to be treated thus,” she hissed and stepped around him. “We go north.”
“Cali, you must wait. There is much danger—”
“I am the only danger you need worry about. You will do well to recall I freed you, not the other way ’round.” She whirled to poke him in the chest. He jumped at the sharp flare of heat and stepped back. “Now, enough of this. Come. Our time here grows short, and I will not risk angering my goddess or my master.”
Lucien exhaled sharply. “You have no sense of preservation, my lady.”
“My senses are in full working order. Hurry, there will be a storm soon and we need to find shelter before it hits.”
“There is not a cloud in the sky, how can there possibly—”
“Don’t stand there like a fool. The storm approaches, and it will be fierce.”
“How in the name of the gods does she know that?” he muttered but caught up with her. With a soft sound he pulled her against him, using his body as a buffer against the rising winds. “Stay close to me, mistress, so you do not fall prey to the evil which walks about this world so easily.”