Temptation at Twilight: Lords of Pleasure (19 page)

Fear rode him hard, and he pulled futilely at his bonds. “What are you planning to do to Luc? Let me down from here, you bitch!”

“Now, that’s not very nice,” she said with a mock pout. “Arron, darling, you may proceed.”

Soren fought the fear clogging his throat as Arron retrieved the cat-o’-nine-tails from the table. He’d made a horrible mistake in underestimating Leila once again.

“How many lashes, my queen?” the man inquired, voice devoid of emotion.

“Twenty.”

Arron’s lips thinned and a muscle in his jaw tightened. “As you desire.”

Soren felt the blood drain from his face.
Twenty lashes from a whip with nine tails! Oh, gods . . .

The man moved around behind Soren, and the vampire’s mouth went dry. Numbing disbelief that this was happening to him suddenly transcended the fear. There wasn’t anything he could do to stop it. Determined not to cry out, he tried to brace himself. Nothing could have prepared him for the eerie whistle of the tails flying through the air just before they struck.

White-hot, agonizing pain ripped through his back, stealing his breath. Tears sprung to his eyes, blinding him. The excruciating shock rocketed to every nerve ending. Before he could recover, another blow fell. And another.

The room began to slide away, a buzzing noise filling his head. He thought he heard a low, animal moan escape his own lips but wasn’t sure. Warm wetness began to slip over his buttocks and down his legs. He was being torn apart, inches at a time.

See what you’ve brought down on us?
the beast raged.
Now you’ll learn.

When the blows finally ceased, he hung limp, chin on his chest. His breathing came in harsh gasps and tears streamed down his cheeks. By God, he wouldn’t beg.
I won’t.

“It is done,” Arron said from behind him. A shuffling noise indicated that he was preparing to take his leave, but her voice halted him.

“It’s done if he answers a simple question. Soren, where do you and your brothers keep the famed swords?”

The swords?
Of course she wanted them in her possession; they could kill any creature in existence. “Fuck. You.”

“No,” she said coldly. “He isn’t finished. Twenty more.”

Soren jerked his head up, struggling to see through the hazy film clouding his vision. His pulse hammered wildly. Even a vampire might not survive another round if he lost too much blood.

For the first time, Soren heard a hint of tension—even animosity—in the other man’s voice.

“Leila, I don’t think—”

“It’s not your place to do the thinking, damn you! Do it! And when you are finished, come to my room.”

“Why are you doing this?” Soren rasped.

She looked at him, malice shining from every pore. “In order to fully appreciate the gift I’m bestowing, you must experience the depths of torment. By the time you’ve seen the error of your ways and given in, you’ll be begging for the agony to end.”

She whirled and stalked from the room, slamming the door in her wake. Arron came to stand in front of him, and Soren was surprised to see sympathy in the depths of his green eyes.

“I am very sorry,” he said softly.

Hope flared. “You don’t have to do this. You’re not like her, Arron. I can sense it.”

He hesitated before answering, anguish etching his handsome face. “You are correct. I am nothing like Leila. . . . I am much, much worse.” With that, Arron moved back into position.

Panic returned, and he abandoned his vow not to beg. “Please, for the love of the gods, don’t do this—”

The blow set his back afire and shattered his senses. The leather tore into his flesh again and again, until he could feel nothing except blood running down his legs, dripping off his feet. Until he could see nothing, and the beast roared at his surrender.

Until he understood, at last, that there was indeed such a thing as a fate worse than death.

 

 

Harley was sunning herself by the pool, chatting with a handsome faery, when she spotted a big male with a familiar black head of hair making his way to her side. Breaking off her end of the conversation, she smiled at Valafar and gave him a jaunty wave.

He returned it, but appeared far too serious as he approached and stopped at the foot of her lounger. “Hi, pretty,” he greeted her. “I need to speak to you. Alone.” He shot a pointed glare at the other male, who quickly left for greener, and friendlier, pastures.

“Now, you didn’t have to scare off my new friend! What gives?” When he didn’t respond to her teasing tone, she began to worry. Her smile wilted. “What’s wrong?”

“Have you seen Soren?”

She curled her lip. “Not since the bitch-witch decided her play toy was spending way too much time with me and hustled him off someplace. Why?”

He paused. “How about Luc?”

“No, I haven’t seen him today. Maybe Aldric is around?” she suggested.

“He’s been called away on Council business,” Val said grimly. “Council people are disappearing left and right, and no one seems to know where the blazing Hades they’ve gone!”

She frowned. “Soren said you didn’t have much to do with the Council,
Prince Valafar
. So why do you care?”

He sighed. “So he told you about me? I
hate
the bullshit that goes on in the Council and I’m too old to stomach it anymore. But when members of my clan start to vanish, and then I investigate to find out that high-ranking members of the city are going missing all over, I have no choice but to find out what the fuck is going on!”

“Maybe Leila ate them?” She was only half joking. “I hear she has quite the appetite.”

“You’re probably closer in that guess than you realize.” He didn’t crack a smile.

“What do you know about her?”

“Plenty, but I need to speak with Soren first. He has to know what he’s dealing with before it’s too late.” Val’s fists clenched at his sides.

That had her pushing from her lounger to poke him in the center of his broad chest. “If it’s so dire, why haven’t you told him already? He’s made some sort of awful bargain with that sneaky woman, and I have a feeling it’s one skewed in her favor.”

“What do you know of this bargain?” he demanded, ignoring her question.

“She agreed to bring back his lost mate—
me
, they think—in exchange for his putting her up in style and pretending to be her mate. But I don’t know what else he has to do or what she gets out of it.”

Val’s expression darkened. “No doubt the only thing she’s ever really wanted: power. Very few know this, even the Fontaine brothers, but the Coalition tossed her out of the Council centuries ago for her nefarious practices. She changed her name and appearance decades ago, and has been trying to worm her way back in ever since.”

Harley goggled at him. “Centuries? Changing her looks? How old is she and what the hell
is
she?”

“Ancient and lethal,” he said cryptically. “Let’s find that vampire of yours.”

Why wouldn’t Val say more about Leila, or whatever that thing was? A shiver of fear went down her spine as he took her hand and led her to search for the vampire who was starting to get under her skin.

S
oren had never been brought low enough to pray for death, and he wouldn’t start now. He wouldn’t give that she-devil the satisfaction. He would take every abuse she meted out and more. If she wanted a monster, she’d get one. In spades.

He’d turn her own creation against her.

The beast seethed.
You can’t do that.

“Watch me.”

Hang on; concentrate on that,
he told himself.
Feel nothing.
Pain, grief, despair—gone. All of it. Nothing left except the hatred that fed the beast awakening within.

His companion shifted and rolled in his chest like a caged thing, uneasy.
Eager
. A chill whispered along his spine, but he tamped down the cloying fear that once unleashed, he wouldn’t be able to control it. That it would consume him completely, his identity lost forever, even to himself.

The gamble wasn’t a choice. If it got to the point he could no longer control the beast . . . somehow, he’d do what needed to be done.

Chin resting on his chest, he stared absently at the inky pool widening under his feet. What was Harley doing right now? Was she having sweet daydreams of their rendezvous in the gazebo, or was she enjoying the pleasures at the resort? Did she miss him, wonder why he wasn’t back yet? Gods, he’d give anything to take her to his bed tonight and wake up tomorrow, all of this nothing but a nightmare....

“You must learn to guard your thoughts, vampire.”

He jerked his head up to find himself looking straight into Arron’s knowing green eyes. “I’ve got a better idea. Stay the hell out of my head. How does a shifter do that, anyway?” He winced at the lack of force in his voice, betraying his weakened state.

Arron lifted a tawny brow. “Stay out? Impossible. Your musings couldn’t resound more loudly if you stood at the very summit of the Temple of the Gods and bellowed them to the entire city. You have much to learn.”

“And I suppose you’re going to teach me?” he gritted. In spite of his resolve to block out the pain, it returned in sickening waves. Lack of sleep in the days since he’d brought Leila here, and now this torment, had left him faint with exhaustion.

Arron’s full, sensuous lips turned up in a ghost of a smile. “I’m going to enjoy your lessons, and so will you.”

“Yeah? Wake me up when the fun starts, ’cause I’m not real impressed so far.”

The smile vanished. “Take care to curb your foolish sarcasm in Leila’s presence. You will gain nothing, save prolonging the torture until she believes you’ve been beaten into submission—physically and emotionally.”

Soren blinked, trying to hold the dizziness at bay. “What the hell does she want? Is death the fate Leila has planned for me?”

Arron looked away, his expression solemn. “Perhaps.”

The wolf was lying. “I heard the two of you talking earlier,” he whispered past the agony radiating throughout his body. “Why does she believe I’m a descendant of Azrael? How is she going to use me?”

“All will be made clear to you in time.”

“You know,” he hissed, “I’m getting damned tired of that answer. What’s she going to do—turn me into some sort of demon from Hades? Is that what I somehow agreed to when we made our so-called bargain?” The man gazed at him with such sorrow, Soren’s blood ran cold. “Sweet, merciful gods . . .”

“Never make a deal with the devil, vampire. The game favors the house, without exception.” He paused. “One thing more—no matter what, do not let her get her hands on your family’s swords. When your mind betrays you, remember that, if nothing else.”

It was too much, and he couldn’t think anymore. Couldn’t reason out this madness and what he’d done to deserve it.

All he’d wanted was to have his mate and be happy.

“I’ve lost everything,” he rasped. “My mate—”

“You have another, at least for now.” Arron gave him a look filled with pity. “Your mate is the least of your concerns, unless she gets in Leila’s way. As your brother has done.”

Fear liquefied his guts as he remembered. “Luc. What has she done to him? Tell me!”

“Your younger brother is dead,” he answered quietly. “I am sorry.”

“You—You’re lying.”

“I’m not. I heard her order the attack myself. The assassin was a werewolf in half form. Luc never stood a chance.”

The wolf spoke the truth; it was in his eyes, his voice. No one escaped a half-form wolf. The blood drained from Soren’s face. Hanging his head, he fought the urge to howl. To go mad and tear apart everyone in sight.

Do it,
the beast purred.
It will make us feel better.

No. He would not give in to the sorrow and rage. That’s what she wanted.

Soren strained against the bonds. “Where is my brother’s body?”

“I—I don’t know. Leila sent me to confirm the kill . . . but it wasn’t there.”

Hope rose, nearly clogging his throat. “Then how do you know he’s dead?”

“From the amount of blood on the ground where he was attacked, I cannot see how anyone could’ve survived.”

“Then he could be alive.” He had to hold on to that slim hope.

“I do not think so. Nonetheless, it is curious. I cannot fathom why his body would’ve been taken or by whom.”

“What did you tell Leila?”

“Nothing. For now.”

This was all too much to take in. Yet he had a feeling he hadn’t even scratched the surface of crazy. He hadn’t stepped through the looking glass; he’d been slammed through the gods-damned thing, headfirst.

Luc. The fun-loving, adventurous brother, the bright star everyone wanted in their orbit. Dead. How could that be possible?
Please don’t let it be true.

He sagged against the bonds as exhaustion claimed him. Sometime later, he was vaguely aware of being freed from his prison, of Arron’s strong arms catching, then lifting him.