Sword of Darkness (13 page)

It was a frightening thought. Like so many before him, he’d laid the foundation of his own destruction. In one moment of thoughtless passion, he’d lost control of himself and sired his heir.

His successor.

He heard the sound of small footsteps approaching. He turned from his window to find Seren entering the room with a large platter of food. She was still dressed as a squire in a brown tunic and hose, with her pale hair plaited down her back.

Frowning, he watched as she placed the platter on a small table not far from him. “What is that?”

She looked down at her fare. “Dandelion salad with cowslip and berries. It was all I could find out in the kitchen gardens. I made a light sauce with the berries and water for the salad. It should be quite tasty.” She met his gaze. “I thought you might be hungry.”

He was famished, but there was nothing there that could nourish him. “Nay, Seren.”

“You haven’t eaten anything all day.”

“I am quite fine without.”

She placed her arms on her hips as she continued to argue with him. “You can’t go without food. Blaise said you must keep your strength up or else the shield will fall and the others will attack.” She held up a bowl of berries. “Humor me, my lord, and eat a few.”

He stared at the small blackberries. They looked so harmless and yet if he ingested them, his stomach would cramp and undignify him before her. “I can’t eat those.”

“Then what would you like? Perhaps I could make that instead.”

He cocked his head as he caught a strange tremor in her voice. It was slight…subtle. Yet it
was enough to make him wonder. “What is this really about?”

And then he saw it in her eyes. That darkness that had marked many before her. Aye, she wasn’t used to being dishonest, and it showed now in her entire demeanor. She was lying to him. “I know not what you mean.”

“You do,” he said, drawing near to her. “Tell me.”

He expected even more lies from her.

She didn’t bother. Stiffening her spine, she met his gaze with the sincere honesty that had marked her from the moment they first met. “I heard that you feed from the blood of children. That you would feed on our child once he was born.”

Kerrigan snorted at the absurdity of that. “Nay, little mouse. I find nothing nourishing about the blood of children.”

He saw the relief plainly in her green eyes. “Then what would you like to eat?”

Unlike her, it was in his nature to lie. Always. The truth was as foreign to him as was trust. There was no need to be honest with her, and yet the sadistic part of himself wanted her to know the truth of him. Let her understand exactly who and what he was, and then she would give up all her inane dreams that he might protect her or the child.

He smiled coldly at her. “What I like to eat, little mouse, is life.”

A deep frown creased her brow. “I don’t understand.”

“I know.” He moved to step around her so that
her back was against his front. Pulling his glove off, he laid his hand over her chest, between her breasts. “Haven’t you wondered why I’m so cold to the touch?”

“Aye.”

Kerrigan leaned forward and inhaled the special scent of her hair. It fired his blood even more than being able to feel the heat of her body. All he had to do was move his hand a tiny degree and he would be caressing her breast…

He pushed that thought aside as her heart hammered its strength against his palm. He could feel the strength of her life force. Feel the electricity he needed to regenerate his powers.

All he had to do was close his eyes and he could draw it off her. Pull it inside himself until he consumed her.

“In order to live,” he whispered in her ear, “I drain the life off others.” He watched as her nipples hardened under the fabric of her tunic, teasing his desire.

“I still don’t understand.”

Kerrigan couldn’t stop himself from flicking his thumb over one taut peak. She trembled in response, but didn’t pull away. He cupped her breast as he pulled her back against him. The hunger of his body was second only to his hunger for her life.

The demon inside him was awake and it wanted her. The only thing that held it back was the man who didn’t want her dead. At least not yet.

He forced himself to return his hand to the valley between her breasts, just over her heart. “I’m nourished by the essence of others.”

Seren gasped as she felt a sharp pain pierce her heart. She tried to move away from Kerrigan, but he held her in place.

He laid his whiskered cheek to hers, and for the first time his body was warm. “You should feel the rush of it, little mouse. The feel of someone’s life force moving through you, invigorating you.” He nuzzled her neck, before he moved his hand away from her. “I live off the strength of that human essence. The electricity that runs through a heart. I literally suck it into my body to feed myself.”

“And what happens to the person you draw this electricity from?”

“If they’re human, they die. If they’re Adoni, they can survive it. At least on occasion.”

She gaped at his harsh words. “You kill people and steal their souls?”

“Nay, little mouse, the soul holds nothing for me. Give it to your God or your devil. I care not which. As for death…better them than me.”

Stunned by his confession, she turned in his arms. But before she could speak, she heard the large rustling of wings. A dark shadow appeared in the window an instant before three gargoyles flew into the room.

Rage and fear mingled inside her. How had they breached his shield?

Kerrigan moved around her to engage them. Seren looked about for some way to help, but there was nothing she could do. As she had said earlier, she wasn’t some warrior to fight. But how she wished that wasn’t so.

Kerrigan caught one of the gargoyles by the tail
and used it to slam it into the wall. The gargoyle shrieked before it jerked its tail free, then dove at him while a second one came at his back. They caught him between them, and pummeled his body with their fists.

The third gargoyle flew at her. Seren gasped before she ducked it and hid herself beneath the nearest table. As the gargoyle came after her, Kerrigan sent some kind of sorcerer’s blast from his hand at the gargoyle that splintered it into pieces. Dust from the stone scattered everywhere, making her cough as the stone dust invaded her lungs.

Then Kerrigan spoke in a language she couldn’t understand. His words rang out clearly in the hall in a deep cadence that was almost like a song. A heartbeat later, the other two beasts dissolved.

Seren sat beneath the table, covered in dust, as she realized exactly how much power Kerrigan commanded. For the first time, she was scared of him. Scared of this man who claimed to have no compassion.

A man who killed others just so that he could live. It was monstrous.

“You’re safe, Seren,” he said quietly. “They’re gone now.”

Her entire body shaking, she crawled out from under the table to see nothing but the powdered remains of the gargoyles.

Kerrigan leaned against the table with his arms supporting his weight. His black hair framing his handsome face, he looked a bit pale and worn. And as she neared him, he pushed himself back and leveled a menacing glare at her.

“How did they get inside the shield?” she asked.

His breathing labored, he raked a hand through his tousled black hair. “When I took the spark from you, it opened a slit in the shield. I can’t feed and hold the shield at the same time. Not unless I wish to kill you.”

Seren wrapped her arms around herself as a foreign coldness consumed her. “So this is the life you have. You kill in order to live, and you live in fear of those who want to kill you in return.”

She couldn’t imagine the horror that was his existence. The loneliness. Surely he did live in hell and had done so for countless centuries. “Tell me something, my lord, is this the life that you would give to your child?” She looked up at him and narrowed her gaze. “Truthfully.”

She took his hand and led it to her stomach so that she could hold it over her womb. “Is this really the existence you want him to know?”

Kerrigan closed his eyes as the warmth of her washed over him. She feared him now. He could smell it, and yet there was no joy in his having caused it. In fact, it pained him.

He spread his hand out so that he could feel the tiny spark of power that called out to him and to Morgen. In time, that spark would manifest itself into a fetus and then a living, breathing person.

Whoever controlled the child controlled that child’s powers.

An unbidden image went through his mind. He saw himself as a callow youth. Bitter and angry, his face still stinging from his mother’s latest slap,
he’d been lugging water from the well to his mother’s hovel.

Three men had been riding by on horseback when his mother, being ever eager for coin, had called out to them to ask if they’d like to spend some time in her bed.

A knight dressed in a brown and gold woolen surcoat had sneered at her and her peasant’s homespun rags. At least until his gaze had fallen to Kerrigan.

“How much for an hour with the boy?”

Stunned, Kerrigan had frozen in place. He didn’t know what shocked him most: the man’s question or the calculating gleam in his mother’s light eyes.

Her gaze had gone from him back to the knight. “He’s a virgin, my lord. Surely that’s worth at least a silver mark.”

Horrified to a depth he’d never known, he’d watched as the knight dismounted to pay his mother the silver coin.

Time had seemed suspended as the knight approached him. The summer breeze had swept its blistering heat over his body while the other two men had laughed and made comments on how they should have thought to offer for him first.

“I’ll take a turn with him when he’s finished. Two bits for the bastard since he’ll be virgin no more.”

His mother had laughed along with them. “Done.”

Terrified, he’d been unable to move.

Until the knight had reached for him.

Kerrigan had swung his bucketful of water over the man, then beat him with it. The other two men came to help, and somewhere in the fighting, Kerrigan had grabbed the knight’s dagger. Shaking in indignant outrage, he’d begun stabbing without thought as to the repercussions. He’d been blinded by his fear. Blinded by his anger.

And when everything had settled down again, he’d found himself covered in blood, standing over the bodies of the men. His face had throbbed from their beating. His entire body had ached.

Then in true scavenger form, his mother had come forward to search their purses for more coin.

Kerrigan had gaped at her.

Their deaths hadn’t even fazed her as she pocketed any item of value they had. “We’ll need to bury these bodies somewhere.” She’d glanced to the horses that carried their armor. “Think you we could sell that for more?”

“You were going to sell me to them.”

She’d looked at him crossly as she rose to her feet. “What are you squawking over, chicken? I’ve sold myself for you enough times that it’s only right that you pay for me for once.” She’d grabbed him by the hair and gave a yank as one corner of her mouth had turned up into a mocking smile. “And now that I know what you’re worth, we’ll be—”

Her words had ended in a choking gasp.

Kerrigan had felt nothing as he watched her eyes turn glassy. He’d felt her blood running over his hand before she’d staggered back and fallen.

And still all that he’d felt was emptiness. And relief.

Until the fear had set in that someone would learn of what he’d done and kill him for it.

He’d dropped the dagger and run with all his strength. And in that one moment, he’d set his future into motion the same way Seren had the instant she’d reached up and taken his hand.

And now he looked into those large green eyes that held no hatred of him. No scorn.

But they were fearful, and that saddened him.

“You haven’t answered my question, Kerrigan,” she said softly. “Would you barter your child to this life so that you can have the world? Is it really worth it?”

She lifted his hand and held it between hers. “All people are born with goodness inside them. All. And I know that somewhere deep inside you is still that goodness you were born with. You may never find it for me, but I pray you, my lord, find it for your child. Don’t let him learn brutality from your hands. You were tender with me when you created him. I know you can find that same tenderness for him. I know it.”

His chest tightened at her words. He’d never loved anything in his life. Nothing. He didn’t even think he was capable of such a tender emotion. There was no goodness in him. There never had been. “And if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not wrong.”

In that moment, he realized the full strength of this woman.

He fought for himself. For
his
wants and
his
desires. But Seren…she fought for others.

He laid his hand against the smoothness of her cheek and stared into those eyes that seemed to glow from a fire that ran soul-deep.

“How can you have faith in me after all you have seen? All you know about me?”

Her features softened. “It doesn’t make sense, does it? But then the fact that the two of us are locked inside a castle while an entire army waits to kill you and capture me doesn’t make sense, either. Why are we here?”

He gave a short laugh. “I know not.”

Her eyes turned light and teasing. It was a look that no one had ever had with him before. “And to think I’d really hoped that you had a plan of some sort.”

He enjoyed this light bantering. The absence of malice and mistrust. “So did I. It seemed like a good idea when we came here.”

The light faded from her eyes as her face turned serious again. “What’s to become of us, my lord?”

Kerrigan stroked her brow with his hand as he marveled at the strength of her. At the way she was willing to take them all on for a tiny child that she didn’t even know. “That is the question I keep asking myself. I could fight my way through Morgen’s army, but I can’t protect you while I fight. They’d take you the minute the shield went down. Not to mention that her army is actually mine and I don’t really want to diminish my own forces. I might need them later.”