Dark Deceit (4 page)

Korvain was sitting on the edge of her desk, his black eyes
glittering in the overhead lights. Although he was sitting down, she could tell
he was taller than her by more than just a few inches. His skull-trimmed hair
was black, matching his eyes and the dark slashes of his eyebrows.

He was bigger than any other male she had ever seen. His arms were
as big as her thighs, crossed tightly across a stomach so well defined the
muscles of his abdominals threw their own shadows from under the material of
his shirt.

Her eyes took in the breadth of his shoulders, the size of his
chest. Bryn swayed suddenly, her hand shooting out to catch the door jamb to
keep her balance. Gods, the scent of the male was intoxicating. She had a
sudden vision of having his body on hers, pressing into her. She gasped to hide
the groan that wanted to push its way free from her throat.

She watched as his eyes seemed to grow darker, his luscious mouth
parting in the most seductive way. Bryn shook her head and cleared her throat.

‘Korvain?’

After a long, hot, lingering look, he nodded.

Her eyes slid shut as another flash of them touching intimately
assaulted her. Letting out a breath, she pinned him with a look that usually
sent most men into hiding. ‘Mind getting your ass off my desk?’ she snapped,
stalking past him to sit in her huge leather chair.

With a cocky grin on his lips, he pushed himself off the edge of her
desk and parked it in the chair opposite her. His eyes raked over her upper body
like he was thinking about her naked. ‘Adrian says I can trust you with my
girls up on
Level Three
.’

‘How can you know for sure?’ he replied, his voice washing through
her, tightening the muscles in her lower body. The cadence of his voice was
mesmerising, and she got another flash of him whispering erotic things into her
ear while his naked chest pressed against hers.

She let out an exasperated breath. ‘I trust Adrian. He trusts you.
That’s enough for me. Besides,’ she leaned in closer, ‘if you fuck around with
them, I’ll fuck around with you. You know who I am, what I’m capable of.’

She sat back and watched in frustration as his lips curled into an
amused smile. Fucker.

* * *

K
orvain drank in
the sight of Bryn. She hadn’t been afraid of him when she’d walked into the
room. She’d been aroused by his presence. Now she was threatening him with
death. The Valkyrie was braver than he thought she’d be. And he had to admit it
was such a fucking turn on.

Her blonde hair was restrained behind her, a braid trailing over one
shoulder. His fingers curled wanting to know the softness of it, the silkiness,
as he ran it through his fingers. The darker part of him wanted to know whether
he could use all that hair during sex, to control her, to dominate her.

Her eyes were mesmerizing and completely unique to Valkyries—two separate
rings of color that somehow swirled together. The first was denim. It hugged
her pupil, lapping her iris until the outer ring of sky-blue started to take
over.

His eyes drifted languidly down to her neck, studying the distinct golden
tattoo beneath her ear. Next they swept down to the hollow of her collarbones
and then to her chest. She had nice breasts, but hid them behind a crew neck
tee as if she was trying to take away some of her femininity by covering
herself up.

His body had responded to the wave of gardenia her body had given
off. The scent lingered in the air, sticking to the back of Korvain’s tongue.
He wondered idly how she would respond to him taking her right here, right now
on the desk.

Bryn sucked in a sharp breath. Korvain smiled.

She wanted him. There was no doubt about that.

‘Have you ever done work like this before?’ she asked, clearing her
throat again. When he didn’t answer, she went on, ‘My usual guy didn’t show up.
I can’t afford to leave my girls unprotected.’ Her cheeks suffused with color,
and he realized she rambled when she was nervous. He found that...endearing.

‘I can do the job. Don’t worry about that,’ he replied. Her eyes
lingered a little longer than necessary on his mouth.

Bryn seemed to study him for a long minute before she nodded, her
braid bouncing on her shoulders like it had a life of its own. ‘I’ll show you
upstairs then.’

Korvain followed her up the stairs, passing by two bouncers at each
set of doors. The males tensed when they saw him, their hands reaching for the
butts of their weapons under their arms. He smiled at them innocuously before
walking on.

When they finally reached their destination, Bryn parted a red
velvet curtain and stepped into the room. Korvain’s eyes made a sweep of the huge
space, landing on each bouncer for a second, assessing him. When he spotted
Adrian, he lifted his chin in acknowledgment.

‘I’m going to put you out here so you get a feel for the place,’
Bryn said, pressing a button attached to the collar of her tee. ‘Fallon, I need
you out the back with the girls.’

A male fell out of formation at the back of the room and came toward
them. Korvain could smell he wasn’t human as he passed them by.

‘Take Fallon’s position by the emergency exit,’ Bryn said. ‘Keep the
men from touching my girls and from getting too trashed. I don’t allow drugs on
my turf. You see any, confiscate them then report it to me.’ She pulled an
earpiece, a mic and receiver from her back pocket and handed them to him.
‘Don’t be afraid to throw any of them out if they’re getting out of hand. I run
a high-class establishment here. I won’t stand for any shit.’

Korvain nodded and put the tech in place.

‘You’re on frequency three up here.’ She told him. ‘Questions? No?
Good. See me at the end of the night for the money I owe you.’

Bryn stalked away, straightening her t-shirt and tossing the silken
length of her braid over one shoulder. Korvain inhaled, tasting her scent,
trapping it in his nose.

Putting his back to the wall, he scanned the crowd. Humans mingled
with the gods, rubbing shoulders with them, sharing drinks with them. The
dancer on the stage was wrapped in a PVC piece—one Korvain assumed was a nurse’s
outfit. It hugged and exaggerated every one of her curves, flattering or not.
She tottered on her heels, eye-fucking the crowd as she bore down on the pole
at the end of the ‘T’ stage.

He watched the males with their money flapping in front of their
faces, watched the other bouncers position themselves more advantageously
around the room. Topless waitresses walked backwards and forwards from a shiny black
bar on the opposite wall to the stage, their hands filled with loaded trays,
their garters stuffed with green.

‘Hey, my brother,’ Adrian’s voice came over the earpiece in his ear.
Korvain glanced over at his boy.

‘Hey.’

‘If you do good tonight, she might ask you back.’

Korvain snorted. ‘I don’t need the work, my brother. I’m just doing
you a favor.’

His eyes made another sweep, landing on a woman who was walking toward
him. Her hips looked like they were well-oiled and moving independently of the
rest of her body.

She stood before him, smiling and batting her fake lashes. Now that
she was closer, Korvain could see she had the dual-ringed eyes of a Valkyrie.

‘Hi,’ she purred, draping herself across his shoulders. He bit back
the threatening growl when her fingertips walked up his chest and his throat
until the backs of her fingers caressed his chin and jaw. He caught her hand
before she could reach up and touch any more of his face, pressing his thumb
into the nerve on the inside of her wrist until she winced.

‘Don’t touch my face,’ he warned. The blonde drew her arm away,
cradling it to her chest protectively. When he looked back into her turquoise
and navy eyes, she’d placed her seductress smile back on.

‘Are you new here?’ she asked in a honeyed drawl.

He smiled, showing her his teeth. Her pupils dilated in response.
‘What’s your name?’

‘Kara,’ she breathed, her cheeks flushing, her pink tongue darting
out to moisten her lips.

‘Well Kara,’ he lowered his voice, dipping his head until it was
next to her ear, ‘Get back to work so I can get back to mine.’

Kara tottered off like she was suddenly drug affected, weaving
around the floor until one of the guys at a banquet table grabbed her arm and
pulled her down onto his lap. Korvain was the first to react, his lope eating
up the ground to get to the struggling pair.

‘—off me!’ Kara shrieked, her hands pushing at the human who had his
fingers climbing up under her skirt. Kara was straining to get away; her delicate
neck muscles were cording, straining against the man’s hold on her body.

On her neck, there was a patch of scar tissue about an inch wide and
two inches long just under her ear. He had half a second to wonder what it
could mean when Adrian arrived to back him up.

‘Get the girl out of here,’ he growled, already reaching for the man
and hauling him out from behind the banquet table. His legs flailed and kicked,
thrashing against Korvain’s hold. Korvain pushed him up against one wall,
scattering a group of men in his wake.

With his knee, Korvain separated the male’s legs, pinning his arms
out to the side and keeping pressure on the back of his neck with his forearm. Korvain’s
free hand skimmed down one side of his body then the other, searching for any
concealed weapons.

There was a small bulge in his jacket pocket when Korvain gave the
same once over on the front. Dipping his index and middle finger inside, he
pulled out a couple of packets and inspected the small white pills.

‘What have we here?’ he asked the human. The male was sweating now,
trickles of the stuff tracking his temples, running down the side of his face.

Korvain glanced up, looking directly into the camera above them.
Jerking his chin toward the exit, he looked back at the human. Flipping him
onto his stomach again, Korvain twisted the human’s arm around until he
screamed.

With a tight grip on the arm behind his back, Korvain sunk his
fingers into the back of the male’s neck and frogmarched him out of the club.

Bryn was waiting for them on the landing. She gave him a cursory
once over before saying, ‘This way.’ She pushed open a concealed door opposite
the stairs.

Inside, the room was sterile and cold. The walls were black painted
bricks. A metal slab of a table was in the middle of the floor, a matching
metal chair behind it. A single bare bulb hung from the ceiling. Korvain forced
the man down into the chair, holding him in position with his heavy palms on
his shoulders.

Bryn stood on the opposite side of the table, just outside of the
reach of the light, throwing shadows over her face and shoulders. Even though
the human couldn’t see her eyes, her stare was hard. The POS fidgeted; more
sweat breaking out on his brow, down his back and under his arms.

‘I hope you have an explanation,’ she said in a cold voice. The male
shivered under Korvain’s palms, but kept up with the silent routine.

‘She asked you a question,’ he growled softly. The man jumped when
he heard Korvain’s voice, whimpering pathetically. Korvain’s fingers dug in,
warning him not to move an inch.

Bryn stepped away from the shadows and approached the table.
Reaching inside the human’s jacket breast pocket, she pulled out his wallet.
Flipping it open, she studied his photo, her blue eyes flickering to him.

‘Alex Jones,’ she said in a quiet voice, ‘What are you doing selling
drugs in my establishment?’

‘I want my lawyer,’ he stammered. ‘I’m not saying anything until
I’ve spoken to my lawyer.’

Bryn laughed. The sound was as cold as the look in her eyes. ‘We’re
not the cops, so I can tell you right now that’s not going to fly. I’ll give
you one more chance though. Tell me why you’re selling drugs in my
establishment.’

Alex glared at her, saying nothing.

‘Fine. I’ll get the cops involved. Is that what you want?’

The silent act continued.

Bryn shrugged and slid a phone from her pocket. ‘Have it your way.’

Korvain stood there, restraining the man, watching the Valkyrie
work. A few minutes later, she hung up, pegging Alex with a hard stare. ‘Cops
will be here in a few.’ She glanced at Korvain. ‘I can take it from here. I
need you back in
Level Three
.’

Even though his instincts were screaming at him to stay, Korvain
nodded and slid out of the room. He wasn’t going anywhere while that POS was in
the room with her. Setting his back against the wall, he waited until the cops
arrived ten minutes later before returning to work.

H
e could feel his
body wasting away, but was powerless to stop it. He was immortal, not
invincible. Flesh burned and healed. Blood ebbed and flowed. Breath rose and
fell. And still he was bound to the boulders.

Pain.

Hunger.

Thirst.

He felt it in the tiny pinpricks on his skin, in the spasms of his
decaying organs.

His lids cracked, opening slowly to look upon the only other living
thing sharing his torment and misery. Ruby-red eyes stared down on him. As
always, its maw gaped, its fangs bared. He knew every single detail of its
body.

Venom welled slowly, dripping down one of its fangs. It hung there—trembling—before
finally dropping.

He didn’t scream, merely winced as the drop of poison rolled from
his chest, tracking down his ribs and sliding onto the stone at his back. It
took only a second before the smoldering wreck of his body
melted, consuming the last of his strength. A moan escaped his lips, a moan
that signalled his defeat, his surrender.

Squeezing his eyes shut tight, he didn’t even have the strength to
buck against the bonds anymore. He just rolled over and took it, figuratively
speaking. He was wallowing in his pain when he heard it.

Straining his ears, he listened. He could have sworn he’d heard a
voice. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, but he reacted all the same. He
managed to lift his head, eyes rolling around sloppily in their sockets before
exhaustion crashed over his body.

Are you a penitent man?
A voice asked. It
was smooth—silky like a well-polished piece of silver.

He tried to swallow moisture down into his dry throat, his tongue
rasping against the roof of his mouth. Such thirst he felt. Such hunger, too, but
he tried not to think about that.

Well, are you?

‘Who are you?’ he managed to croak. Was that actually what his voice
sounded like?

Salvation
the voice whispered; the word
echoing a hundred times over until his ears rang.

His tongue made another pass over his lips. ‘Where are you?’ He
waited for the response, hung onto it like it was a life raft and he was
drowning at sea. This was the first contact he’d had in...he paused. Squeezed his
eyes shut once more.

He remembered speaking to the bodies of his wife and son for a
while, but they never spoke back. He remembered cursing them for getting
killed, begging them for forgiveness, screaming at them to help him. Eventually
he stopped when the flesh fell from their bones in fetid puddles that filled
the cave’s belly with a stench that made his eyes water.

They’d never answered him before.

But this voice had.

Maybe this was real...Maybe...

‘Hello?’ he called. Desperation stabbed at him as he was met with
silence. ‘Hello?
Hello?’

He waited. He heard breathing. Rapid breathing. They were close,
whoever they were. He strained his eyes, searching the darkness. ‘Whoever you
are, help me!’ he yelled, his voice cut up and bleeding like he’d swallowed
glass shards.

He waited for their response, peering past the shadows. The
breathing sounded like it was closer. Yes! It
was
closer. He held his
breath to hear them more clearly, to pin-point where they were.

What he heard was... 

Silence.

Deafening silence crashed over him.

He wailed at the ceiling. The breathing had been his own. Horror
seeped into his bones. He was losing his grip on reality, losing his sanity.
Immortality was the cage keeping his body alive and functioning, but his mind
was up for grabs.

His eyes rose to the ceiling above him. The serpent—his jailer in
this prison of torture—had not moved an inch since it had been placed there. Venom
dropped from one fang, and the cycle started all over again.

I have watched you wither. I have watched you writhe. I have watched
you beg for your release. Yet you have not asked for forgiveness,
the voice whispered once more. The silky quality to the voice
made him think it could be a woman. His skin was smoking, slowly being eaten
away. Soon the poison would be in his blood, his heart betraying his body by
pumping it all around under his skin.

‘Why should I ask for forgiveness?’ he wailed, staring at the
stalactite covered ceiling. ‘What do I have to be sorry for?’

Do you forget the reason you are here?
the
voice asked, growing impatient.

‘No,’ he ground out. ‘I have not forgotten. Nor will I forget who
put me here.’

And what would you do if you were free?

He smiled for the first time since his imprisonment. He’d thought of
nothing else. ‘I would kill him.’

A satisfied purr travelled through his head.
Would you now?
A
rumbling chuckle reverberated around the room.
And how would you do it?

That secret was one of the things that hadn’t left his mind. He
moistened his lips with another swipe of his tongue. ‘I know a way.’

And would you use that knowledge?
the
voice purred.

‘Yes,’ he croaked.

Yes? Do you swear to it?

He barked a harsh laugh. ‘This is fruitless. I am not free.’

If you were free?

It was only a dream. ‘Yes,’ he whispered.

His answer echoed around him, slowly disappearing and plunging the
cavern into silence once more. He soaked in the silence, the conversation he’d
just had playing through his mind. This wasn’t real. This conversation. This
deal. None of it was real. He slumped back, sinking into the dark oblivion of
his misery.

Then you are free
the voice eventually replied.

Confusion and doubt began to creep through his rotting mind. What
game was being played here? What trick? The silence continued on around him,
the doubt spreading. He was not free. He was—

The bonds that held him in place suddenly slackened against his
skin. They were...gone. He could breathe again; move his arms and his legs again.
He wanted to get up, but feared what would happen. His body was nothing more
than bones kept inside his skin.

Be sure to keep your end of the deal, Trickster.

He started by rotating his wrists and ankles first, letting the
feeling come back to him. Next his knees and elbows, then he sat up and the
world swam in front of his eyes.

Hunger burned his stomach. Food. He needed food.

Perhaps it is time to punish the serpent for the role it played in
your captivity. Consume its flesh and learn how the world has changed around
you
that seductive voice said; nudging him in the
direction he’d already been heading in.

When he felt he could, he swung his legs off the platform and placed
his feet onto the cold, rocky ground. Slowly and unsteadily, he made it to his
feet, clinging to the rock walls for support until he made it to the bones and
rags that had been his son.

Lifting the rags, he took the blade attached to the leather belt his
son had once worn and stood. He was shaking from hunger, from insanity, from
disbelief. He eyed the serpent hanging from the ceiling, hearing the hiss of
warning—ignoring it.

Climbing clumsily onto the platform, he licked his lips. One cut
through its head was all that was needed. His body shook violently now, and he
only had one choice: strike now or go hungry.

Blood flowed down his hand, his arm; dripping off his elbow from
where his knife severed the spinal column of the snake. It was cold and it was
liquid. He thrust his mouth under the flow, drinking his fill of that cool
blood then pulled the body free from the rock.

Taking it to the cave’s floor, he peeled the skin off with weak fingers
and feasted on the flesh still writhing between his teeth. He ate until he
passed out, his eyes closing, his stomach full, his mouth moist with blood. His
head was now filled with knowledge about this new world he was a part of. He
had only one thought as he let sleep drag him under.

He was free.