Shadows of the Keeper (42 page)

“Somehow, I just never envisioned
having this conversation with my
dad
.”

Inzyr grinned.  “Come, you are
in luck.  A viewing.”

“Of you having sex? Eeeewww! 
I’m drawing the line!”

“Of why you are forbidden to go
down to market,
Emily
.”

“What about your lover?”

“She has been commanded to wait
until invited to enter.”

“Rude.”

“She is forbidden to be in your
presence.”

Emily gave her father a look. 
“Seriously?”

“You are far above her and I will
not have you exposed to the likes of
that
one,” Inzyr stated. 
“Besides, she’ll be dead tomorrow, so why bother with introductions or
manners?”

Emily flinched. 

“I’m an assassin,
Lumynari
,
daughter.  I’m not interested in candles, ambiance, or
coffee
with
these fools.”  He swept his hand to indicate the inhabitants down
below.  “Perhaps, when you experience
Lumynari
sex, then you will
understand I only seek basic needs from the females of this realm, nothing
more.”

“Dez, can we—“

“No, you most certainly will
not
convince me to teach you Lumynari sex.”

“Ha!”  Viewing out the window
again, her father, she noticed, held himself in a way that reminded her of how
he’d looked when she feared him.  Almost, she fell to her knees and gave
thanks that these two lethal Shadow Masters were her beloveds, and not
her
enemies.  If events were different, and they’d arrived seeking her death,
the two of them would have been vastly disappointed, for she’d have saved them
the trouble by ending her life herself. 

Unobserved by her, Dezenial stared
at her, reading every thought.

“You won’t let me go down there,
even escorted with dozens of guards?”

“No.”

“I thought I was under my husband’s
rule now?”

Inzyr arched a brow at her by way
of his reflection in the window. 

Emily sighed.  “Fine.  I
won’t beg, plead, or hold you at knife point.”

“As if,” Inzyr muttered.

My mother will try her hand at
every turn to confiscate you from my care, Keer’dra
.

Emily nodded, while watching
shoppers below. 

“Kendra never went into the city
during open market,” Inzyr turned to her.  “If it’s any consolation.”

“I understand.  But you two
are sooo gonna owe me.”

“Cheesecake.”

Emily gasped and spun to face her
new husband.  “How do you—“

“We have watched you forever,
Keer’dra.  Your sire remains mute, but he has acquired the ability to bake
such treats that you swear off each time you step upon your odd body scale.”

“You are evil personified.”

Dezenial bowed.  “I do my
best.”

“I was but curious to see why you
moaned with each bite.  An atrocity equivalent to eating mud.”

Emily clutched her throat. 
“Blasphemy.  Cheesecake
rocks
!”

“There,” Inzyr pointed.  Emily
moved closer and followed where he indicated.  A skirmish unfolded. 
She gasped.  “Are those
dwarves
?”  She stepped closer to the
glass, hoping for a better look.  Opera binoculars were presented to
her.  She smiled her thanks up at her husband.  “I’ll be,
dwarves.  What . . . hey!  What are they doing?  Man, they’re good
and pissed about something—oh my God!”  Emily reared from the bloody
scene, fearing it touchable even from way up here.  “You have to do
something.  He just stabbed that Lumynari merchant!”

Inzyr’s eyes grazed her. 
“Haggling.”

“Pfff, so you stab the person when they
don’t agree to what you’re offering to pay?” She shook her head.  “I’m not
watching this.”

Inzyr shrugged.

She fidgeted with her skirt. 
She’d really rather return to that couch and taste Dezenial again.  Morbid
curiosity won out.  She raised the tiny gold binoculars to her eyes.

“Bloodthirsty,” her husband
accused.

“Curious,” she defended.  It
took a minute of searching, glancing out the side of the glasses, then back
through them trying to get her bearings.  Without breaking his
concentration, Inzyr reached out, guided her line of sight, then resumed his
folded-arm-stance.

“Thanks.”

The dwarf was now leashed, a rope
looped around his thick neck, though barely seen under his thick, matted hair
that hung to his plump elbows.  She could tell he was calling out to his
companions, but they turned away, making themselves obscure within the
crowd.  “Will he be put in jail?”

Both males snickered.  For a
moment, she lowered her opera glasses and tried reading her father and
husband.  Dezenial watched her; Inzyr watched the market. She returned to
monitoring down below.  This time, it was Dezenial who reached around and
adjusted her position to relocate the macabre scene unfolding. 

Wounded Lumynari limped, his thigh
haphazardly wrapped with fabric doing little to staunch the flow of very dark
blood.  Dragged, thrown upon a huge wooden stage of sorts, the dwarf
scrambled to his feet and shook his fist.  Crowds gathered.  Like
ants, they swarmed from tents, stalls, and dark alleyways.  Two very large
Lumynari males stepped up onto the stage, and began shouting.  Several
hands raised at various intervals throughout the crowd.  Within minutes, a
Lumynari pushed his way through the throng of beings now dispersing and leapt
onto the stage.  Emily watched coins exchange for the dwarf’s leash. 
A soft gasp escaped her.  “Did that Lumynari just buy his freedom—why is
he struggling against a Lumynari trying to save—oh.  He was sold. 
What will happen to him now?”

Dezenial’s hands cupped her small
shoulders.  “He will be placed in tonight’s arena.”

“Arena?”

“After open market, much food,
dancing, a bit more trading,” he leaned down, “sex is enjoyed.  Then,
blood sport.”

“Blood sport?”

“To the death, Emily.”

“Will we be going?”

“You wish to attend?”

She shrugged, catching herself
before either male could comment she’d inherited Inzyr’s habit.

Too late, I’ve already noticed
.
And long before you knew of his existence
.

Making a face at her husband, she
looked back out the window.  “I used to watch boxing.  I even paid my
way into a cage match, not realizing it was a death match.  It was . . .
gross.”

“You attended this alone?”

“Uh, yeah.”

He looked over her head and she
knew he was exchanging a look with Inzyr.  “What?”

He clutched her chin and lifted her
face to make sure she read the seriousness of his expression.  “Never,
Keer’dra,
never
attend such an event here, in Balkore, alone, without
your guards. 
These
crowds are infested with killers looking for
any excuse to throw spectators into the arena as well. 
That’s
what
heightens the sport.”

“Really?”  His warning had the
desired effect.  The thought of having to fight like that was—she arched a
pale brow.

“Keer’dra.  Your powers are no
match against the trolls and other beings you’ve yet to imagine.  A
troll’s hide takes a very long time to burn.  You would be pulverized long
before he died of your fire, which would disturb him no more than a bee
sting.”  He waved his hand.  “Never mind the guards.  I forbid
you to attend.  I would lose my mind, should something happen to you.”

“I was kidding.  I . . . I
really don’t like this magic thing.  It always seems to erupt only when
I’m good and pissed.  I don’t like when the rage consumes me.  I’m
left shaking for hours afterwards.”  Sidestepping Dezenial, forcing him to
drop his hold, she made her way towards Inzyr’s galley, muttering, “Everyone
wants me to be well behaved and well protected.  Caged.”

“I have no desire to cage you,
Keer’dra.  You’re hungry.  And, no doubt, emotionally exhausted,
otherwise, I know you would understand my apprehension for your safety when
down here in a realm you’ve never experienced.”

She stopped and slowly turned to
look at her mate from across the vast room.

“I know your pain, Emily.  It
has been a burden settling deeply in my heart, but no longer.  Never will
you be parted from me again.”  His eyes glowed softly.  “Eternity,
Keer’dra.”

“I’m starving.”

His glowing eyes heightened,
perusing her body.

“Not for that!  Food. 
Spicy.  I’m craving Mexican food.”

“Show her the book, the
illustration,” Inzyr interrupted, his scrutiny unwavering of the market
below.  “We need to know.”

Dezenial’s eyes were focused so
heatedly on her cleavage, her breasts burned.

“First thing I’m requesting are
real clothes.”

“Denied.”

She giggled, crossing her
arms. 

Dezenial flashed a smile.

She looked down.  “Oh!” 
Quickly, she dropped her arms, her chest having been pushed up even more as if
offering him a platter.  “I need that sweater.”

“Put it on and suffer severe
consequences.”

“Then stop staring.  What
picture are you two grumbling about?”

“Here, take a look.”  Dezenial
picked up a book, opened where a marker stuck out—

“What is that?” She pointed at the
marker.  “It looks . . . like beef jerky.”

“A tongue.”

Emily gasped.

“You thought we jest?”

Awkwardly, she cleared her
throat.  No good.  Her voice was stuck somewhere between shock and
disgust.

Dezenial turned the thin volume
towards her.  She reached out, using a pillar to steady herself. 
“Does he realize what a place like this would cost in New York?”

“It costs me down here as well,”
Inzyr growled.  “Should be free, for all that I do.”

“I was speaking about money. 
How much it costs in money.”

“Must you think everything we do
results in bloodshed?” Dezenial asked.

She jabbed the air just above what
had been a tongue.

“Yeah, okay, there is that. 
Your father keeps souvenirs.”

“Oh, God.”  Emily
gulped.  “Not to mention fangs protruding when irked, eyes glowing red
when enraged, favorite pastime beheading and removing,” her eyes dropped to the
bookmark, “tongues, and weapons that would have Homeland Security swearing
they’d finally found weapons of mass destruction—“

He laughed.  “I’ve heard of
that search.”

“You have?”

“I live in Balkore, Keer’dra, but I
assure you, we are not ostriches.”

“Ostriches?”

“Bury thy head in the sand,
suddenly, reality no longer exists.”

“You’re freaking me out.  Yes,
I believe every route you travel is for the final gain of bloodshed.”

“For many Lumynari, it’s
tradition.”

“You claimed your kingdom was
different, but that dwarf was just sold.”

A shadow of annoyance crossed his
face.  “He arrived at the entrance a free being.  Once permitted in,
he falls under the laws of my territory.  His brethren will take with them
tales of their fallen comrade’s consequences.  Next time temperamental
dwarves visit my kingdom, they will remember they are guests here and maybe
will seek to adhere to my laws.”

Emily snorted.

“You disagree?”

“More like, they enter, they’re
secretly tagged.  Belligerent ones are then insulted, set up with the
beforehand knowledge they’ve explosive tempers.  Your cronies have the
perfect alibi to purchase the unsuspecting victims, bet spectators on which
will survive, then toss the hapless creature into this
arena
.”

Dezenial turned and looked at
Inzyr.

“Vaifyr.”

“What does that mean?”

“Daughter.  Dwarves have never
been trustworthy, nor ally.  Conversation transpires all the while their
eyes dart, assessing our holdings, so they may aptly report to their king what
they have seen of value.  In a few days, as every time after open market,
the scavengers return with their pathetic weaponry in hopes of conquering and
claiming dwellings and riches not theirs for the taking.”  He turned his
back on her, his post never neglected.  “Word of you has reached
them.  Those who arrived today were here for no other reason than to see
you for themselves, then plot your capture and sell you to the highest bidder:
Drakar, or Shadow.  My spies are much more fluent in weeding out
information, the dwarves never bright enough to realize I am always several steps
ahead of them.  That one who you witnessed being sold had orders to
capture you, alive,” he looked at her for long moments, “or dead.”

“Oh.”

“I will amuse myself with him
later, in the arena.  It has already been arranged.  I told you,
none
attempt to harm what is
mine
.” 

Emily swallowed.  Hard.

“Come, wife.”  Dezenial
waggled the small book, then reopened it to a page he’d wanted her to
view.  Grateful to change the subject, she stepped closer and craned her
neck in order to see around his large bicep.  She inhaled.

“Your thoughts cloud my thinking,”
he warned.

“Your near nakedness clouds
mine.  That’s it!  That’s the same medallion . . . wait a damn
minute!  It’s the same one Blade had me locate in this small trunk
thingy.  Why are they so damned determined I wear this?”

“
Determined
to shroud
you.  A lapse in time occurred, cloaking you from my mind.  It was
the same when you were a child for many years.  You wore this, this amulet
he gave you?”

“Yes, I didn’t want to hurt his
feelings, and was going to take it off once I boarded the plane, but, honestly,
I forgot about it.  I don’t remember wearing one as a kid.”

“I transported my mind back to your
dwelling, hoping to garner information of your whereabouts.  It was where
I found the human male, Peter and attached to his mind.  Very dark, that
one, for a human.”

“Right at home, weren’t you?”