Pure Desire [Pure 3] (Siren Publishing Allure) (21 page)

The great jaws snapped. The color of his eyes intensified and narrowed into slits. He resembled a mongrel dog about to attack. “I will oversee the next attempt and assure you the emperor will be pleased,” he snarled.

Dolunas, known to be temperamental, glared at him. He took a cautionary step back and out of reach of the hammer-fist with the extended claws. “See that you do what is necessary to succeed. I will smooth things over with the emperor,” he said, unsure if that was possible given his Grace’s current unpredictable state.

Without a word, Dolunas spun around on his heels, walked into the umbra, and disappeared into the blackness that cloaked his dark form.

As soon as he entered the hallway that lead to the emperor’s quarters, the guards came alert. By now, with his many visits, he would have thought the personal guards would show some familiarity and not watch him like a hawk flying over a field of mice.

He felt edgy and uneasy under their direct gaze as he drew closer to the wooden double-doors that secured the emperor in his quarters. He knew the invisible force-shield was there, even though he couldn’t see it.

He was searched like a thief, made to surrender his weapon, which he did readily. Once the guard felt comfortable, he gave the orders to deactivate the shield and open the doors and allowed him entry.

The sweet scent of jasmine reached his nostrils, the fragrance infused into the room by the many gold holders with small holes in the lids that were placed strategically around the chamber. As with the entire palace, the Grace’s bedroom was covered in darkness, and little light shone from the low-burning sconces that lined the walls. The balcony doors were shuttered. The windows were closed and heavy wooden slates were locked in place, blocking out the moonlight.

Adjusting his eyes, he found the emperor lying on his four-poster bed, which was raised high from the floor on a platform. A gauzy material was draped over the four posts, fell, and hung low on each side to enclose the area in a sheer tent. His Grace lounged lazily, sprawling casually on satin coverlets with fur-lined throws draped over his mid-section.

There was movement. Two figures stretched their lithe, slender bodies. Pale thighs and bare round buttocks were distinguishable in the faded light. One of the men looked at him. Brilliant blue eyes examined him with indifference, and then he returned his attention to the emperor. Delicate fingers massaged the pallid skin, a noticeable contrast against the blood red spread that covered Emperor Agaci, stroking his Grace.

The other concubine listened to Emperor Theopolis Agaci, smiled warmly, and slipped beneath the covers.

He diverted his eyes from the constant head bobbing beneath the sheets.

“Your Grace.” He bowed. He stood and met the emperor’s stare. Like the cretin, he had not accustomed himself to the translucent eyes that were wintry white and twice as frigid.

“You met with Dolunas and have news for me?” Theopolis Agaci said.

“Yes, your Grace, but I fear it is not good.” He folded his hands to keep from trembling.

Emperor Agaci’s glacier stare was unsettling. Honestly, being in the man’s presence left him in a fit of nerves. He had seen the emperor’s cruel streak firsthand, and as long as he lived, he preferred never to experience it again. The smallest nuisance would set the man off. When that happened, the emperor’s wrath was swift and deadly.

Emperor Agaci shooed the attention away. The men pouted briefly before entertaining themselves now that the emperor had dismissed them. He watched carefully as his Grace rolled from the bed to stand.

His height was impressive. A lean, muscular frame, blond-white hair, and a charming smile made him seem immature in nature. At times, he found it difficult to believe the amount of evil that dwelled inside the angelic featured man.

He watched him pull on his robe. Slim fingers fastened the ornamented gold slash over the royal blue robe before he looked at him again. He lifted an eyebrow questioningly. “Well, don’t just stand there. I will hear what you have to say.”

The emperor walked to a nearby table and picked up a jeweled box, flipped the lid, and dipped his finger into the powdery substance. He inhaled, taking a deep breath, and filled his lungs. When he looked at him, again the icy orbs appeared glossy.

“Dolunas’s first attempt to seize the female did not succeed. He brought me this unfortunate news tonight and offered excuses, if you care to hear them, Grace.”

“Did the explanation he gave seem believable?”

“As far as I could tell, I think Dolunas speaks the truth. If the cretin is anything, he is honest to a fault.”

“So, you trust the thing?” the emperor sneered.

He chose his words carefully, not sure of the emperor’s intention behind the question. Theopolis Agaci made inquiries for a reason. Whether it was to understand a comment or something else, there was always an underlining motive for everything he did or said. He had to tread lightly. What he said next might be held against him. “I trust your decision in all matters, Grace. If you thought it was best to engage the cretin, who am I to contradict your choice? Not that I would.” Then he added, to fill the uncomfortable silence that ensued, “If you please, you could meet with Dolunas yourself. Perhaps then you would be more comfortable with my word.”

A wry smile curled the emperor’s lips. “If that were necessary, then I wouldn’t need you, now would I?”

Again, he tested him. He offered to bring Dolunas to him, and again, the emperor refused to meet with the cretin. There was some alternate cause as to why, something he had yet to figure out, but he was sure that whatever basis the emperor had for refusing to interact directly with Dolunas had to be a secret the emperor didn’t want exposed.

He sensed trepidation behind the impeccable façade his Grace presented at his suggestion. It was a frisson reaction, but he saw it in his eyes, which dulled slightly, and his jaw twitched. Then, just as quickly, he recovered and returned stoic.

“I don’t like mistakes,” Emperor Agaci said.

“Dolunas will oversee the next mission and see to it that the girl is acquired. He gave me his word, Grace. He knows that you will not accept another failure.”

“I will not…from you or the creature.” He made his point.

He bowed, acknowledging the threat.

Emperor Agaci walked over to the bed, disrobed, and joined the men who waited eagerly for his return. They cooed, whispering endearments and sucking up big time when the emperor relaxed in the folds of their arms.

He stood there waiting for the dismissal. He wanted to run from the room, but knew he could not and would stand there for the duration until the emperor bid him to leave. It was plausible he might not allow him to escape, and that sent shivers racing up his spine.

“Sometimes I’m not sure I can trust you anymore,” the emperor said, watching him closely.

Here it comes, he thought, the cat and mouse game his Grace played with him on occasion. He braced himself and kept his tone neutral to disguise the anxiety that crept inside his body. “I’m your most loyal servant, Grace.”

The emperor smirked. “You honor me because you fear me. I’m afraid your loyalty is not what it once was when you were in awe of me.”

He knew not to respond. He remained mute, waiting for the gauntlet to drop. The pit of his stomach grumbled nervously in anticipation. He prayed silently to the Immaculate Providence that he would not have to prove his fidelity to a man he despised.

As if it were yesterday, he recalled his first encounter with Emperor Agaci, the night he realized the man who had become the ruler of Oridus wasn’t worthy of the position, or even to exist as a human being.

Their encounter and the many that followed seemed surreal now but were never forgotten. How could he forget the torment he experienced as a young man under the emperor’s hands?

His father had eight mouths to feed and barely managed to keep him and his younger siblings from starving. They lived on the outskirts of the city of Oridus, mere farmers and paupers in the eyes of people who snubbed them because they were of the poorest station.

All that changed one day when the emperor and his entourage passed through his small village. He wasn’t sure how he caught the Grace’s eye. His father hadn’t explained it fully the night he came into his room and told him come morning he would go and work within the palace confines. It was an admirable position, a responsibility that would elevate his family to a respectable status, all because the emperor had requested his presence specifically.

He had been reluctant to leave his aging father in frail health. Nor was he foolish enough to refuse the emperor. Come that morning, dressed in his finest attire, which included worn-sole boots, tattered trousers, and a freshly made shirt his mother had sewed, he left his home and went with the palace soldiers to begin his new role within the royal dwelling.

Within days, his father received a hefty sum of ducats that allowed his family to live comfortably, and he was grateful to the emperor. He had been elated when he learned of the emperor’s generosity. The third night, just before he settled into bed among the other servants in the quarters they shared, guards came and told him the emperor had summoned him.

He had entered the royal bedroom and dropped to his knees in gratitude to give thanks. The Grace had been gracious, accepting, even polite—then he had raped him repeatedly.

Refusing the Grace had never entered his mind. To do so would put his family in jeopardy, so he submitted to the unwanted attention night after night. Years rolled by. Blessedly, finally, the emperor grew tired of him and moved onto another. He had thanked the Immaculate Providence that day, and then sobbed himself to sleep that night because he was so overwrought with happiness that he could finally sleep through the evening without fear of the guards coming for him.

Sporadically, the emperor would call upon him to amuse his deviant taste. Instead of fighting, he learned to accept his fate and get the deed over with quickly. That didn’t mean he accepted or wanted the Grace’s attention or that he didn’t hate the air he breathed. Or that he didn’t dream of the day he could enact his vengeance against the man responsible for stealing his innocence and making his life a living hell. That time would come when he cut the emperor’s throat and watched him bleed out and plead for mercy, for which he would show him what he gave each time he molested his body—nothing!

Emperor Agaci motioned for him to join him in bed. He went, swallowed the bile down his throat, and forced himself not to puke as the emperor removed the covering and displayed his erect phallus.

He thought about revenge, nothing else, and concentrated on the emperor’s murder, which helped him to perform.

He repeated the mantra inside his head that gave him strength.
This is a means to an end. A necessary evil to fight evil.

Chapter Twenty

Noor had just finished a long and tedious conversation with Sterns, Farrow, McGovern, with the guardian listening in, when the door to his housing burst open and hit the wall with a bang. Allura bound into the room, eyes wide, cheeks tear-stained, and looking frazzled.

“You have to save him!”

“Calm down and tell me what happened.”

“Channing just left to do something stupid,” she shrieked.

Noor went to her and hugged her in his arms. He spoke softly. “Where did he go?”

Allura began pacing, rambling and explaining what happened. By the time she finished, she was shaking. She looked at him, crying openly. “Please, I just know something terrible is going to happen to Channing. Please—we must hurry.”

He secured his pistol, rifle, and sheathed a knife. “Do you have any idea where he might be headed?”

Allura shook her head no, and then said, “Yes, the fool is headed over to Matt Graham’s. He intended to settle matters between him and Caroline once and for all…good lord, I tried to talk some sense into Channing, but when he gets a wild hair, reason doesn’t exist.”

Noor took her arm and lead her to the door, saying, “Go back to the main house and wait. I will find Channing and drag him back here if need be. Don’t worry.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“No. Allura, we are not going to argue about this.”

She responded by adjusting the gun belt on her waist. She eyed him, her expression void of indulgence. It clearly said she refused to concede. “You don’t know your way around these parts and will waste time searching. Time we don’t have. You need me.” She nailed the point home.

It galled him that she was right. He set a stern look on Allura. “You will do exactly as I say…stay out of the way. Are we clear?” He waited until she nodded before he walked outside to retrieve his horse. “I mean it, Allura,” he added, and left her there to enter the barn.

He finished saddling his horse, turned to lead the mount outside when a figure emerged from an empty stall.

“You Noor Rynoir?” the man said. The toothpick between his lips switched from side to side.

“Who wants to know?” He didn’t have time for whatever the man was about, nor did he care.

“My name is Dunst…you heard of me?”

“Unfortunately, yes, I have.” He continued toward the door, disregarding the man.