Bedeviled (19 page)

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Authors: Sable Grace

Tags: #Fantasy, #Vampires, #Adult

BOOK: Bedeviled
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Chapter Twenty-Eight

K
yana lay curled against Ryker, the frantic pace of her mind in direct contrast to the rhythm of her heartbeat. She'd had sex with him before, but this time, something between them had shifted. The usual need to bolt hadn't come, neither had the normal urge to deny anything more than a fuck had happened. The balloon of protection she'd been carrying in her chest for the last couple of centuries had popped after her last orgasm.

But try as she might, she couldn't figure out why. This time, like the others, she'd used him for the relief his body could offer hers. Relief had come, instead, to all of her.

Ryker began to lightly stroke the sensitive square of skin at the small of her back, and it hit her all at once. The difference. She'd felt, in his last kiss, the truth. He loved her. No man touched a woman as he'd touched her without love, and while Ryker had hinted at his feelings for a while now, she had always found some means to brush them off. The wall of duties and bloodlines between them had made it the simplest thing in the world to tell herself that there was nothing different between this tryst with Ryker and any of the others she'd ever had.

A liar lies to others. A fool lies to herself.

The time would come when her itch to roam would return, but she couldn't keep trying to convince herself that she was in any kind of hurry for that to happen. Why push it away when it felt so good? Nature would take its course soon enough to break them apart, but for now, she was too exhausted to do more than hold him as closely as possible.

The uncomfortable realization left her body cold. She nestled closer to Ryker, pressing her nose to his neck, breathing in the sweet, clean scent of his skin.

“When I was fifteen,” she began, “my father sold me to Prince Mehmet and I thought it was the beginning of my happily ever after.”

Ryker's chest stopped rising, his breath stuck somewhere between his lungs and his throat. She felt him stiffen beneath her, as though he might be afraid to so much as twitch and risk scaring her off. But now that she had started, she was determined to finish. Determined to prove to him that she was able to give a little of herself to him—perhaps not her future, but a bit of her past.

“His harem numbered more than eighty-seven women. The oldest and first wife, Azime, ruled us with a hard fist and an even more brutal tongue. But I suffered through her abuse silently. Mehmet was kind to me. He made my nights easier to bear after days of dealing with Azime. At least, for a while.”

“Fifteen,” Ryker whispered.

Kyana propped herself onto her elbow so she could see his face. “That's not so bad. You were there. You know women marry much later now than they used to. The youngest of his harem was only five. Of course, she was untouched, but even she knew well what being one of Mehmet's wives was going to mean for her one day.”

Tracing the fine lines that defined Ryker's abdomen, she tried to summon an image of Paulina, the youngest of the harem. But no image came. Just the faint memory of blond hair and a foreign accent. British, probably. Mehmet had liked his collection of women to be eclectic. He'd had wives from fifteen different countries in his household.

When her gaze fell back to Ryker's face, she found him watching her intently. “What?”

His smile was faint as he rubbed his thumb over her chin. “That's not enough tit for my tat.”

“It was plenty of tit for a little tat.”

Ryker exhaled, his golden hair spreading out around his head on the cold bath tiles. “Ares came for me when I was ten.”

“He told you he was your father then?”

Ryker nodded. “Tit.”

“I enjoyed being Mehmet's wife until one night when we'd been married for nearly six months.”

“What changed it?”

Kyana dragged her leg off his thighs and sat up. How much did she really feel like confessing? A bit at a time, and when it became too much, she'd stop. Something was better than nothing, wasn't it?

“It was the first time he raped me.”

Ryker's eyes flashed, but no surprise marked his features. “The first time?”

“Yes, though not the worst by far. He saved that for the
last
rape.”

He watched her and she could read on his face that he'd guessed what happened next. But it was his turn, and he was going to have to earn the rest of her nightmares.

“All right,” he said, finally taking the hint of her silence. “When Ares found me, I was nearly dead in my aunt's stables. Tit.”

“Bullshit. More tat.”

He shook his head and closed his eyes, and Kyana swallowed back her own secrets. She'd been ready to spill it all, and he didn't seem any closer to trusting her fully than he had been two weeks ago.

“Fine.” She rolled onto her knees and reached for the discarded bikini draped over the edge of the bath.

Ryker grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “I was naked and bloody. My aunt was dead. My mother was covered in blood and the whip in her hand was in two pieces. Need more?”

Her heart caught in her throat and she heard herself whisper, “Yes.”

“She'd been trying to beat the evil out of me. My fangs . . . all demigods have them—a result of god blood mixing with non-god blood . . .”

Kyana knew as much. It was how the first Vampyre had been born. Something icky in Cronos's blood had caused his offspring to not only have fangs like other demigods, but also be born monstrous and bloodthirsty.

“. . . the strange things I could do . . .” Ryker continued. “It was all demonic to her even though she knew better than anyone who my father was and why I was so different from the other children.”

Though his eyes were closed, the pain on his face was so clear, Kyana couldn't bring herself to ask for more. Instead, she lay back down beside him and shivered.

“The last time Mehmet touched me, I was twenty. Azime had found me asleep that afternoon when I was supposed to be taking lessons with my language tutor. She beat me within an inch of my life, and that evening, when Mehmet called for me, I had no choice but to go to him even though I was in horrible pain.

“When I told Mehmet I hurt too much to let him bed me, he raped me.” It was the first time in her life she'd spoken that truth aloud, and the agony of it made her dizzy. “Azime had beaten me so thoroughly, I must have had internal injuries because Mehmet's brutality nearly killed me.
Did
kill me, in fact.

“It was that night that Henry found me, taking my last few breaths on the stairs outside the prince's chamber.”

“Your Sire.”

Kyana nodded. “He'd come to stay at the palace to convince Mehmet to invest in a spice trade. Henry was so adept at blending in with the human world, he never had to work to hide. Of course, Vampyre weren't such notorious myths then. Even if someone did find it odd that he was never seen during the day, they never questioned it.”

“You loved him.”

“Yes. He gave me life that night. And a future. Tat, Ryker. A lot of it or I'm done playing.”

“Ares raped my mother and left her to die. That's why she hated me so much.”

Though her heart constricted, Kyana felt herself shake her head. “Who told you that?”

“My mother. Every damned day for ten fucking years.”

Kyana raised up once again. Something was wrong with what he was saying.

“Ryker, Ares isn't Zeus. He has never, in the eighty years that I've belonged to the Order of Ancients, been accused by mortal women of rape.”

When Ryker opened his mouth to speak, Kyana gently placed her finger over her lips to silence him.

“The gods boast of such things. Why wouldn't Ares? Especially if such an escapade gave him a strong son like you?”

“How the hell should I know?”

He was angry now, rolling away from her to stand. He pulled on his trunks and faced her, his brow furrowed. “It is what it is, Ky. My mother hated me for what Ares did to her, and Ares never wanted a son. He wanted a soldier.”

“Then why press you to claim him as your father to the Ancients? You said that's what he wanted.”

“Look at me, Kyana!” The vein in his neck bulged as he yelled down at her, and Kyana suddenly felt like a scolded child. What was meant to be a bonding moment for them had turned ugly. “
I am my father
. How can you say that I am not?”

Stumbling to her feet, Kyana fumbled with the bikini still clutched in her hands. Suddenly feeling too vulnerable in her naked state, she tugged the pieces on and faced him.

“I'm not saying that. Ares is your father,” she said. “It's like he colored you with his DNA.”

“Then what exactly are you implying?”

Kyana sighed, wishing she'd never started the tit for tat, wishing they could go back to the quiet of holding each other.

“I'm just saying I think you should speak to Ares. Find out his side. Maybe your mother wasn't completely honest with you.”

She was actually defending Ares. The world had definitely gone crazy. But she'd spoken the truth. Of all the gods to have raped a woman, Ares was one of the few she couldn't imagine being guilty of it. If nothing else, he had too much pride to take a woman who didn't want him.

“You think my mother was a liar.”

The statement wasn't a question. It was a cold, hard accusation.

If Kyana answered him now, the walls would be reconstructed between them.

“I'm just suggesting you talk to Ares. That's all.” She headed to the changing rooms, her heart resuming its heavy burden in her chest.

Why did she always have to step in shit then put her foot in her mouth?

Chapter Twenty-Nine

K
yana took her time zipping up her leather pants and pulling on her boots. She sat on the small corner stool in the dressing room and was peeved to find she was still out of breath. Getting her pants on had been a trial. Her freaking legs wouldn't cooperate. It was as though they'd been sculpted out of pudding, quivering under the weight of her body like useless blobs.

The adrenaline that had spiked from catching Haven was wearing off, and her body was quivering both from exertion as well as from the need to eat and sleep. Not to mention the need to make sure she hadn't just royally screwed things up with Ryker.

Pulling up the zipper on her boot, she forced herself to stand. She'd go see Haven, make sure she was all right. Later she'd figure out what this thing between her and Ryker was evolving into and how to either walk away or fix the mess she'd made of everything. Right now, she didn't have the stomach for it.

When she exited the stall, she couldn't even meet his gaze.

She'd slept with men before. Why did it have to be different with Ryker?

“I don't want to hurt you,” she heard herself say.

“I know.”

She nodded, trying to convince herself that he
did
know what he was in for with her—a roller-coaster ride that didn't promise a safe exit.

“If I said anything that—”

“It's fine.”

But it so wasn't. His anger was still ticking away in his jaw. She'd learned her lesson today. Never,
ever
talk bad about a man's mama. Even if instinct told her she might be a lying bitch.

Once outside, she forced herself to finally look him in the eye and didn't like the way he studied her. “I'm going to check on Haven and I need to feed and—”

“Go.” Ryker silently raked his gaze over her face, his lips twisting as he seemingly argued with himself over her attempt to put distance between them, literally and figuratively. “But Kyana . . . we
will
talk about what happened here today. Before our
discussion
. You're not going to run from me forever.”

She watched him go. As he vanished around the corner, she was annoyed to find that the only running she wanted to do was straight back into his arms.

K
yana took the steps two at a time and crested the top of the cavelike entrance of the prison, nodding at the two sentinels standing at their posts. She stepped past them into the alcove and found Haven lying on a blanket in the corner, well guarded and certainly not alone.

Geoffrey was with her, his lap her pillow. His Irish lilting voice carried quietly down the hall as he talked to Haven, brushing her hair back with his long, lean fingers. Even from this distance, Kyana could see the worry on his face, the pain in his eyes.

Careful not to make a sound, she slowly backed out of the cave and dropped onto the steps outside. Haven was safe and comforted. That was all that mattered. Interrupting them felt wrong, and truthfully, if anyone was going to get through to Haven, it was Geoffrey. Better to leave them in private.

Besides, there wasn't anything else she could offer Haven until the purging was complete and it was time for her trial. Kyana should return to Beyond, find Ares, and see if anyone had managed to locate the trident yet.

A sudden hand on her shoulder jerked her from her thoughts. She looked up to find Ryker standing over her wearing a worried expression.

“How is she?”

“Are you stalking me now?” she asked, a bit peeved to think he might never have left her at all.

“Yes.” There was no apology in his tone, and she couldn't force herself to appear more than miffed. In truth, she was glad he'd shown up. Walking away from Haven and leaving her to her fate was not going to be easy. Even if she was with Geoffrey.

Her gaze strayed back into the cave to peer through the darkness, and she swallowed a knot of sadness. She could barely make out her friends' shadowed forms, yet this could potentially be the last time she saw Haven.

“When will they hold the trial?” she asked.

“Day after tomorrow. It will take at least that long for the cleansing and purging to be complete.”

She nodded. Two days wasn't so bad. It left her with a bit of time to try to sway the jury on Haven's behalf. After all, Kyana was supposed to have been sentenced to die and she'd been spared. That meant there was hope for Haven too, didn't it?

She closed her eyes. She needed rest, but where would she go? Now that she'd seen Haven again, she knew she wasn't ready to return to Artemis's temple. And her own home in St. Augustine was cold and empty without Haven. Her gaze trailed up Ryker's legs, his belly, and finally settled on his eyes.

“Ryker,” she said.

“Hmm?”

“Can you forget that I said anything about your mother and take me somewhere?”

He looked at her with a bit of suspicion. “Are you going to pick another fight?”

“I wasn't—” Kyana sighed. “No. I won't.”

He held out his hand and she took it, letting him pull her to her feet. “Where am I taking you?”

“Somewhere I can rest and eat in peace. Where no one will bother me for answers I'm not ready or able to give.”

He wrapped his arm around her and she felt like half of a pair as they made their way back down the streets. It made her uncomfortable even as she found it soothing. The only pair she'd ever truly belonged to was the Kyana and Haven duo.

Could she ever let herself become part of another? Part of the one Ryker offered? She was really sick to death of stressing about it. Maybe she should just play it out and see what happened. He was a big boy. He knew the risks.

As they walked, she finally managed to dig up her voice to say, “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked, turning them onto a side street that faced the beach.

She couldn't help but smile. “Letting me use you.”

“Don't kid yourself. I used you too.”

“I know.”

He squeezed her shoulder and as they turned left onto the beach, she realized where he was taking her. His home. She could see the rooftop from here. The closest she'd been to his place was using a shower he'd installed on the outside of his bungalow, which had led to their first sexual encounter. He'd never invited her any closer, and she'd never asked.

That he was bringing her here now was a warning she didn't care to listen to. Step inside his home and the bond got that much stronger. See a glimpse of the man inside the cool blue eyes and rock-hard abs.

She couldn't bring herself to protest.

“Your house, huh?”

“I've seen yours, I think it's time I show you mine.”

“Ya know, when people say that, they're not usually talking about houses.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, but we've already played that game. We can play it again later, if you like. A good night's sleep, no stress. Just me, you, a little beachside barbecue.”

It sounded like heaven.

“You know,” she said, “if I stay the night I'm going to hate myself in the morning.”

Ryker shrugged, the hint of a smile creasing the corners of his mouth. “That's okay. If you stay the night, I'll probably hate you in the morning too. But that's a chance I'm willing to take.”

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