Temptation at Twilight: Lords of Pleasure (29 page)

“Soren!” he called. “Boy, am I glad to see you! Are you all right? I got attacked by a werewolf and then rescued by some Valkyrie, and I’m not really sure how I got here. Hey, get us down—”

“Luc, he doesn’t know you,” Zen said gently.

Luc flinched. “He has to recognize his own brother! Tell them, Soren.”

Soren skirted the altar and stepped close to Luc. “I have no brother.”

He steeled himself against the shock, and pain etched on the younger vampire’s face. Time was running out, and he didn’t have a moment to spare for sympathy. Opening himself to the beast, he allowed the lust to flow. The stark hunger.

But he turned from Luc. Even as a beast, he would not slake his thirst on his own flesh and blood. Instead, he moved to the altar and addressed Leila over Valafar’s unconscious form.

“You have the belladonna?”

“Eager, aren’t you, my new prince?” She handed him a blue velvet pouch closed at the top by a drawstring.

“Why wait?” He smiled, hoping she couldn’t see through the ruse. Praying she wouldn’t smell his desperation. “Once he’s dead, we’ll move into his home. I was thinking we’d bring one or two of our slaves here each week and sacrifice them as a reminder to the Coalition of our new rule, our power.”

“Hmm. His home is smaller than your estate. We’ll remain there.”

“Whatever you want, love.”

He was going a bit over the top, but it was easy to see how much the prospect delighted her. In truth, the conjured scenario did something erotic to his groin, and the beast responded. He was playing with fire.

“A wonderful idea, my pet,” she enthused. “You’ll have the right to the first ceremony, beginning with our three captives.”

Harley shrank back against Arron. Luc stared at him in horror, and Zen glared, his face murderous.

“I can hardly wait,” Soren heard himself agree. “Arron, your blade, please.” Arron hesitated, glancing at Leila.

“Go on. Let’s see what Soren has in store for our poor Valafar.”

Arron snatched the blade from his belt and handed the object to him, golden handle first. Soren palmed it, testing the weight. The wolf and his allies had come through. Little did the Gorgon know it wasn’t Arron’s blade at all.

But he had to carry on the ruse just a bit longer.

With lightning speed, Soren grasped the hilt and punched the tip of his very own sword into Valafar’s bare shoulder. The prince came awake, his bellow of rage echoing through the temple. Several of the traitorous guards paled, as much as demons can, and stepped back.

Soren sneered, twisting the blade. Blood welled and flowed from the prince’s wound and the sweet scent of it called to him. No, the darkness couldn’t take him. Not yet.

“I have a snack for you, Valafar,” he taunted, dangling the pouch in his free hand.

“Yeah? Wouldn’t you know, I’m not hungry,” the prince said between pants.

“Too bad. You’re going to eat these berries anyway. Care to guess why?”

“Haven’t a clue, but I’m sure you’ll enlighten me.”

“Because if you don’t, the pain you’re feeling will be nothing compared to what Zen will get next.”

Soren gestured to the demon in chains. Turning his head slightly, Valafar saw his friend, and the fight seemed to leave him.

“If I surrender willingly, Zen lives.”

“Agreed. He lives—as my slave.”

“No! I meant—”

“Too late.” Soren jerked the blade from Val’s shoulder, averting his eyes from the tantalizing blood. Working open the pouch, he extracted several purple berries. “Enjoy them. And while you do, think about me carving your heart from your chest and devouring it for my evening meal.”

He slipped the fruit into Valafar’s mouth. Almost as soon as the prince began to chew, he choked, gasping for breath. Convulsions racked his body and his chest heaved. His struggles slowed until he lay still, eyes staring. Sightless. The whole thing had taken only seconds.

“You bastard!”
Zen screamed, thrashing in his chains.
“Valafar! No, no!”

“I knew the demon cared for his prince,” Leila scoffed. “Liar.”

Soren tossed the pouch back to Arron, but nonchalantly tucked the sword into his belt. He said a quick, silent plea to whatever god might be listening to have mercy, to please let his plan work fast. If it didn’t, they were all fucked.

Zenon continued to rage, and tears were streaming down Luc’s cheeks. “Oh, gods,” his brother kept saying over and over. “Oh, dear gods.”

Innocent Luc,
he thought. The beast grinned and stretched, ready for the showdown.

“Valafar is really dead,” Leila breathed. “I don’t believe it.”

“Arron, secure our little human whore beside these two,” Soren ordered.

“Soren, don’t do this!” Harley begged. She fought the wolf as he chained her, to no avail. “This isn’t you, and you know it!
Soren!
”

He approached her slowly, like a cat stalking a mouse, a smile curving his lips. The pulse pounded in her neck as his hands skimmed her shoulders, parted her robe. Auburn hair framed her small face and enormous green eyes. Taut, rosy little nipples puckered. Strained, like his cock.

He lowered his head, flicked one peak with his tongue and swirled the rounded tip. She sucked in a ragged breath, trying to block his assault on her senses, and failed. His fingers slid down her flat belly to the thatch between her thighs and probed her clit. Succumbing to his seduction and heedless of their audience, she spread her legs.

“Come taste the slut,” he said over his shoulder.

Leila joined them, her tongue attending the other nipple with expertise. “Ah, my prince, she’s delicious,” the demon bitch murmured.

“Ohh,” Harley moaned. She was no match for the two of them.

The sudden urged to sink his fangs into Harley and drain her while she was bound and helpless seized him. He fought it down, but the beast was becoming nearly impossible to subdue.

“Yes, she’s sweet. Enjoy her while I see to our handsome demon.”

With Leila absorbed in her seduction of Harley, he moved to Zen, who was practically rabid with the desire to kill him.

“Let me down from here and I’ll carve out your fucking heart,” Zen hissed.

Soren looked deep into his eyes, willing him to get his message. “I hope you do. Now pretend I’m biting you.” He pressed his body into the demon, palms skimming his sides. When his teeth grazed Zen’s neck, the demon shivered and tried to pull away. Giving the beast some rein, he sank his fangs into Zen’s neck, but only enough to make it look like he was drinking. He wasn’t ready to die yet.

The demon was a good actor and gave a hoarse cry. Soren ground his hips, sealing them together. He walked the razor’s edge between the pretense of evil and reality. The beast was rapidly taking over every corner of his soul.

Hoping no one could see, he reached between them and slipped the sword from his belt. Zen sensed what he was doing but not why, and began to struggle. Soren withdrew his fangs to whisper in his ear. “Easy. I’m not going to hurt you. Help me. This has to look real.”

Soren put his arms around Zen, as if holding him in a lover’s embrace. Though the demon wasn’t aroused, he put on a good show. He moaned as Soren’s mouth claimed his, their tongues dancing, exploring. Zen was so good at it, his actions were driving the beast inside Soren nearly out of control.

Quickly, Soren tucked the hilt of the blade into Zen’s waistband at the small of his back, the sword’s blade running behind one leg, hidden from view. He broke the kiss and gave the demon a sad smile, and kept his voice low. “When the moment comes, use it well.”

Zen inclined his head to indicate his understanding, and Soren walked back to Leila and Harley. He spared a furtive glance at Val’s body.

Dead. He’d been wrong, and he’d failed.

His fragile hold on his mind began to crack, like thin ice across a pond. Leila had Harley enthralled, fingers deftly stroking between her legs, teasing her clit. The demoness laved one nipple, then the other, nipping at her breasts. Drawing a bit of blood, licking it away. Harley moaned, helpless.

Looking up, Leila smiled at him. “She is ready. Kill her.”

He closed the remaining distance and Leila moved aside. Burying one hand in Harley’s hair, he pulled her head back. Her lovely eyes were glazed with passion, ready to submit to his will. To give him her life’s blood. And he wanted it flowing into his mouth, his cells. All of it.

Soren sank his fangs deep into her throat. She bucked, crying out, but her words were drowned in blood. Streaming into his mouth, filling his hard cock. Throbbing.

“Yes, that’s it,” Leila breathed into his ear. Her hand cupped his crotch, stroking his erection through his pants. “Take it all. Drain her. Feel her heart slowing. This power, this ecstasy is all yours now, my love.”

Yes!
The beast exulted.
Kill her!

The wickedness bled to every part of him like an ink stain. He could feel her heartbeat weakening as he drank. She was saying something again and again, the words finally penetrating the fog.

“I love you, Soren,” Harley whispered. “I always will.”

Soren
. His name.

He drew back as she slumped in the chains, eyes closed. His gaze fell to the tiny holes in her neck.

I love you, Soren
.

He staggered back as if from a physical blow. “Harley?” He shook her shoulder gently and her head wobbled, hair obscuring her face. “What have I done?”

Leila sidled up to him, laid a possessive hand on his chest. “Don’t worry, darling. The beast’s first kill is always a bit shocking. It gets easier with each one. Kill the other two; then we’ll feast on their hearts.”

Feast. On their hearts.

On his mate’s heart.

Cold rage suffused him and the beast demanded blood. But when it flowed again, it would belong to Leila and her cohorts.

Howling with grief, he shoved Leila away and whirled. He flung out an arm and hurled a blue bolt at the chains holding Harley’s body. They snapped as the blast hit the wall, and she collapsed to the floor in a heap. Leila leaped at him, but Soren sidestepped her, freeing Zen and Luc in an explosion of flying rock and chain links.

The pair dropped to their feet, Zen whisking the sword from his back.

“What are you doing?” Leila screamed. “Arron, guards, stop them!”

Turning, he shot another bolt at Leila. Missed. Instead, it slammed into a column next to her, taking out a large chunk of marble. The impact knocked her off balance and she staggered backward.

Shit!
In frustration, he cast about for a weapon, wishing he hadn’t given his to Zen. Power flowed through his veins like an electric current, but what damned good did it do if he didn’t know how to control it?

Arron, who had been tensed and waiting, promptly relieved a surprised guard of his sword and lopped off his head with it. “Soren, catch!”

Soren caught the weapon and faced the advancing guards. It wasn’t his own sword, but it would do. They split off, a group of them going for Zen and Luc, and the others standing against him and Arron. It seemed like daunting odds.

And then a familiar dark-headed vampire charged into the temple, leading reinforcements.
Aldric! Thank the gods.
The newcomers joined the fight as Aldric tossed Luc’s magic sword to their youngest brother.

One big brute squared off with Soren, feet planted, sword at the ready. The confident grin on his broad face revealed just how short he believed the fight would be.

With one swift stroke, his opponent raised the blade and brought it down at an angle. Soren barely parried the blow in time to keep his head on his shoulders. He blocked several more, but the weapon felt awkward in his hand. He wasn’t going to win a contest of swordsmanship, so he’d change the rules.

Tossing the weapon aside, Soren charged the giant before he could swing again. The vampire’s eyes widened a fraction, and he wrapped his arms around the brute’s waist in a flying tackle.

Caught off guard, his adversary toppled and they crashed to the floor. The vampire’s sword skittered out of reach as they rolled, grappling. Soren landed several good punches before a flash of metal caught his eye. Pain lanced low in his abdomen. Straddling the demon’s waist, he looked down at himself to see the handle of a dagger protruding from his own belly.

“Not so tough, are you?” the lug sneered.

Jerking the knife from his belly, Soren plunged the blade into his foe’s heart. The demon’s scream ended on a gurgle, then a final rasp as his eyes went blank. Soren moved off him, springing to his feet.

Blood everywhere. Flowing like a crimson river. It puddled underneath his boots, the stench of it driving him mad. Both beautiful and awful. He couldn’t let the insanity claim him forever. Gods, if he could only hold out a little longer, he could finish this. The prickling sensation in his stomach told him that his flesh was already knitting closed.

Holding his head in his hands, he blinked furiously to clear the red film, the frenzy to feed that had descended over him once more. The scene before him was unfolding like a surreal, grisly nightmare.

Zen and Luc were fighting back-to-back, cutting a swath through the enemy, the Fontaine swords glowing with beautiful, sinister light. Zen had taken out one of Leila’s goons and was wrestling with another, teeth clenched in grim determination, muscles bunching. Gaining the upper hand, he hooked an ankle behind the demon’s leg and tripped him. They fell together, and Zen finished him with one efficient stroke to the heart. The demon’s flesh sizzled and popped as the magical blade slid home, ending him.

What Luc lacked in practice with his sword, he made up for in sheer strength and resolve. Blades clashed, Luc’s sword sending out showers of eerie sparks with each hit, and he drove the attacker back, unbalancing him. The kid was good, and Soren felt a surge of pride. The falter in his opponent’s step provided the opening his brother needed. Grasping the heavy weapon with both hands, he swung, cleaving the demon’s head from his shoulders. The severed neck blackened and burned.