Dark Embrace (Principatus) (37 page)

Inari’s question stroked the room like velvet. Ezryn tensed, his gut knotting. He could feel her anger pulsing through her. A terrifying force matched only by the inescapable, undeniable force of her demon sexuality.

He shot his brother a quick look, gut knotting tighter.

“Then have me,” Inari whispered.

Haral’s eyes grew wide. His lips parted in a silent gasp Ezryn heard all the same before he fell to his knees, blood flowing from the gaping bite wound in his cheek, his enrapt gaze ablaze with hungry, mindless lust. “Oh, oh, oh.” His groan ripped from his throat, a sound so carnal, so ripe with licentious pleasure Ezryn‘s gut rolled.

He knew what was happening to his brother. Haral hungered for Inari Chayse. Completely and utterly. He was consumed by desire for her. Mindless with it.

“Have me,” Inari whispered again, stepping forward. She didn’t look at Ezryn as she brushed past him. She didn’t have to. He felt everything she felt. Her rage, her contempt, her revulsion…

Haral groaned again, reaching for her from his subservient position, his hands trembling, his nostrils flaring. “Want you, want you.”

“Have me.”

The command caressed the room. Haral roared, grabbing at his trousers. “Want you, want you, want, want
, want
.”

Sour bile rose in Ezryn’s throat at the sight of his brother tearing at his clothes, desperate to get his hands on his erection. Ezryn bared his fangs, the urge to smash his fists into Haral’s gut, to obliterate his twin’s lascivious cravings for Inari almost overwhelming him.

He took a step forward.

Wait.

The word slipped through his head like a silent breeze. He stopped and shot Inari a quick look.

“Do you want to fuck me, Haral Navarr?” She ran her fingertips up her belly, over her breasts, up her throat.

Haral nodded his head with such violent agreement Ezryn swore he heard the bones in his twin’s neck grind together. “Yes, my goddess. Yes.”

“Then tell me, how did you become overlord?”

Ezryn froze, his stare snapping to Inari’s face.

“No, my goddess. I can’t…”

Harry’s tortured whimper jerked his attention back to his brother, and he bunched his fists. Harry was shaking, eyes bulging wider, face a sickly white. “Please, not that,” Haral blubbered, wringing his hands together.

“Do you want to fuck me, Haral?” Inari asked again, her voice lower, huskier. “Do you want to sink your fangs into my neck and feed from me?”

Harry’s mouth fell open and he scurried forward on his knees, arms held out to her. “Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes.”

“Then tell me, how did you become the overlord?”

“The oracle wanted Ezryn,” Haral burst out, the words running over each other, his stare never leaving Inari’s face. “The oracle wanted Ezryn for his bed, but our father refused him. Our father always cherished Ezryn more. So I went to the oracle and offered myself. Wasn’t that clever, my goddess?”

“Very clever, Haral.” Inari’s tone grew calm. “Tell me more.”

“I knew, you see, what the oracle could do,” Haral gushed, scurrying closer toward her, spittle shining on his lips. “I knew if I let him fuck me whenever he wanted, if I let him pretend I was my brother, one day he’d let me have what I wanted. Would do what I wanted him to do.”

“And what was that, Haral?”

The overlord hesitated, terror flicking across his pudgy face. “My goddess, please, no…”

A wave of rapture radiated from Inari and Haral whimpered, reaching for her again. “I wanted him to declare the human virgin whispered
my
name after the blood trails, not Ezryn’s,” he cried, tears of blood leaking from his eyes. “
I
wanted to be overlord. Not my brother.”

Ezryn stared at his twin, disgust churning in his gut, and relief—cold and empty and somehow hollow—igniting in his chest. The truth was revealed. He ran an unwavering stare over the vampires around them watching the spectacle. Their faces registered shock and disbelief. Followed by contempt.

“So you lied?” Inari whispered, husky voice all but inaudible. “You aren’t the true overlord? You aren’t the first born of the First Family?”

“I lied,” Haral moaned. “I’m not the first born. I am not the true overlord. I killed my mother when she discovered the truth of my relationship with the oracle, and I arranged for my father’s murder.” He wrung his hands again, gazing at her. “Will you fuck me now, my goddess? Will you let me feed on your blood as I fuck your beauty?”

Cold shock slammed into Ezryn. He narrowed his stare, his brother’s confession chilling him to his very core. Their mother’s death? Their father’s… How had he never known the true depths of Haral’s lust for power? How had he not felt his twin’s true hatred?

He took a step forward, the blood in his veins like ice. It was time to end it. Time to finish the woeful situation once and for all.

“Goddess?” Haral wailed, staring at Inari with beseeching, pathetic hunger. “I want you. I want you.”

“Then have me,” Inari stated, and she spread her arms out to the side. “Have
all
of me.”

The air shimmered. A pulse of raw lust blasted through Ezryn. Jacob groaned, the sound strangled.

And Haral threw back his head, a wail of absolute rapture bursting from his throat, his hands grabbing at his cock, his balls, pulling at them, mauling them as bright red blood began to ooze from his ears, his nose. “Want, want, want, want, want…
”
He thrashed on his knees, eyes wild and glazed, body shuddering. “Want, want, want…”

Something intangible wrapped around Ezryn’s chest. He let out a choked growl, his brother’s wails and cries piercing his unbeating heart. Haral
was
his twin brother. Second born of the First Family. His twin brother who was never meant for the power, the responsibility of the overlord.

He squeezed his fists harder, watching Haral gouge at his groin, eyes rolling, saliva drooling from his mouth.

Brother.

Disgusted pity twisted in Ezryn’s core and he shot Inari a quick look. “Enough, my love. The truth has been revealed. There is no need for any further proof.”

Without hesitation, she lowered her arms and Haral collapsed forward, as if the power to control his body had suddenly been cut. She looked at Ezryn over her shoulder, an uncertain, almost shy frown playing with her eyebrows. He gave her a small smile and she nodded once. She understood. He could sense her acceptance of his decision and the reasoning behind it.
“He is your brother, Ezryn. Your twin brother.
”

He turned back to Haral, studying his brother’s slumped, trembling form. “It is over, Haral. You have no influence, hold no sway over the fate of the vampire race anymore. I accept my birthright as the true overlord and am commanding you to abdicate.”

Haral lifted his head, staring at him with eyes still wild, still empty. “No… Want…”

Ezryn clenched his jaw, a numb ache settling in his gut. “What you want you can no longer have, Haral. I will let you live—you are my brother. But know this, you are no longer the overlord, and any attempt to challenge my ruling will be severely punished. This is the way it is, and this is the way it will be.”

A low groan rumbled deep in Haral’s chest. A shudder rocked him and he glared up at Ezryn, hate etched on his face, his eyes suddenly clear. Baleful. “The way it will fucking be,” he sneered.

“Master!” Jacob yelled, “Look out!”

Ezryn reeled backward, a split second before Haral launched himself from the floor, a purple streak of hissing speed, and slammed into Inari.

“No!”
Ezryn spun toward them, dread smashing into his heart.

Haral staggered away from him, crushing Inari against his body, hiding behind her. One hand hooked into her breast, his pudgy fingers sinking into its full curve, the other rammed her head to her shoulder, straining her neck into a shocking curve even as she struggled in his hold. “You can have the position of overlord,
brother
,” he snarled, fangs glistening with saliva. His glare locked on Ezryn’s face. “I claim the Principatus.”

“No!”
Ezryn roared again, just as Haral sank his fangs into Inari’s throat.

Piercing pain detonated in her neck, up into her head, down into her chest. Ezryn felt it as surely as if his brother had punctured his own neck. Her spine snapped into a violent arch and she bucked in Haral’s hideous embrace, her neck and shoulder on fire, Haral’s teeth sinking deeper into her flesh.

“Bastard!”

The word shot through Ezryn’s head, Inari’s thought both incredulous and furious. His gut rolled. His chest squeezed tight. She bucked again, her stare locked on his face. Her blood gushed past Haral’s lips, a drowning flood streaming down her neck, over her shoulder, her chest. Painting her flesh red.

“Ezryn.”

His name was whispered in his head, and with it came a wisp of something delicate and powerful at once—love—before he felt nothing but an icy ripple and a surging force.

The Principatus was emerging.

God’s assassin rising. Ready, eager to destroy.

Inari flung her arms wide, throwing Haral off her back with little effort, his fangs gouging her flesh, his nails raking over her breast. Ezryn experienced her pain, her repulsed disgust, and it unleashed his own. Completely.

He smashed into his twin, pinned him to the floor by the neck and glared down into his face. “After everything you’ve done to everyone I’ve loved, after what you did to Jacob…to Inari…” Cold resolution flowed through him. “I have to kill you.”

He slammed his fist into his brother’s face, shattering his teeth. His knuckles stung, ripped open by Haral’s fangs, but he didn’t stop. He hit his brother again, his vampire’s soulless
croi
taking control, the years of betrayal, hate and denial pushing him beyond rational thought. It turned him into the monster he so despised—the bloodthirsty, soulless killing machine.

He hit Haral again, each punch shattering the face so like his own, each blow showering him in his twin’s blood.

Until something vise-like grabbed his wrist.

He snapped his stare over his shoulder, fangs bared, the blood rage boiling in his veins.

Jacob stood beside him, his fingers curled around his wrist, his face bruised, broken but already beginning to mend. He gave Ezryn a silent shake of the head, the stake buried in his armpit dripping blood. “You will hate yourself, Ezryn,” he stated, pushing Ezryn’s arm down, lowering his killing strike.

Ezryn swung his gaze back to his brother, the savage damage to Haral’s nose and teeth a mirror to the damage Haral had wrought on Jake.

“What are you going to do, Ezzie?” Haral rasped, glaring up at him through bleeding eyes. “You’re too noble to kill me?”

“He may be, Harry,” Jacob said, his voice full of menacing promise. He stepped forward, placed his hand on Ezryn’s shoulder and moved him away from Haral with gentle but inarguable force. “But I’m not.” He reached up, wrapped his fingers around the stake buried in his armpit and withdrew it in one slow, steady pull. His blood ran down its pointed length, dripping on the floor beside his foot, an unspeakable message to all. “Ready?”

Ezryn studied him, on the verge of telling Jake to stand down. And then he thought of Jacob’s wife, of what Haral had ordered done to her, what Haral’s zealots had forced Jacob to watch. He thought of what Haral had done to Kristoph, what he’d tried to do to Inari, and he gave his best friend a single nod.

Haral may be his twin brother, but that would not save him. Not from the American vampire. Not from a just punishment long overdue.

He cast his gaze over the vampires still mingling around them, some still writhing in the pain of Inari’s earlier control, most standing silent, struck dumb with shock. “I am Ezryn Navarr.” His voice carried throughout the hall, each syllable resonating with the ancient power of his bloodline, each note reverberating with half a century of denied leadership. “
First
born of the First Family. Let it be known, by right of birth and confession, I
am
the overlord of the vampire race and reclaim the position denied me for fifty years.”

Every vampire still standing dropped to their knees, their stares locked on Ezryn.

“The tyranny of Haral Navarr’s rule is over,” he spoke, his blood roaring in his ears, Haral’s whimpering pleas echoing around the room. “The vampire race has a new leader. The
true
overlord has returned.”

He swung his gaze to the far corner of the ballroom, his mouth filling with disgust at the five naked, chained females staring at him. Five petrified, degraded women. “The humans are to be released. Now. We do not feed on the unwilling, nor treat them as cattle.”

With a nod, three of Haral’s guards hurried over to the women and the solid chink of metal falling to marble ricocheted through the charged silence. Sobs of relief and gratitude came from the corner, the completely human sound filling Ezryn with a heavy sensation.

He turned to Inari, to the Principatus he’d once sought to kill, the succubus he’d once planned to punish, the woman he knew he loved beyond measure and who loved him in return. A wave of warmth rolled through him, an emotion he recognized as pride.

She was proud of him. He gave her a small smile. It felt good. Very good.