The Shadow Games: The Chronicles of Arianthem VI (10 page)

“You might as well kill me. I have failed and failure is not an option.”

“You have not failed.”

The vampyr was sarcastic. “You seem to be still alive.”

“Yes, and that’s not likely to change anytime soon. But sometimes an objective must change when new information comes to light.”

“There is nothing you can tell me that will save my life. The Assassin’s Guild is not forgiving.”

“You are not a member of the Assassin’s Guild,” Raine said. “You are a member of the Shadow Guild.”

The vampyr was stunned, not only that Raine knew of the Shadow Guild, but that she dare speak the name.

“If you think your knowledge will save you…”

“I know that my knowledge does nothing but endanger my life. But I need to send a message to your leader. And you are going to deliver it for me. And she will spare your life for delivering it.”

The audacity of this one was dumbfounding and momentarily silenced the vampyr. “I don’t even know who the Head of the Shadow Guild is,” she said at last, “and I can’t think of any message she would receive from you or that would save my life.”

“I can think of one,” Raine said, and leaned closer to her captive. “You’re going to bite me.”

The vampyr looked on her with frustrated desire, desire that had been building the entire time this woman had held her pinned. It was a hunger both sexual and physical, a craving that she desperately wanted to satisfy.

“I will not,” she said through gritted teeth, and her fangs were beginning to show.

Raine leaned down very close to her, eye-to-eye, their lips nearly touching. “I think you will,” she whispered.

And then the vampyr was staring into the most gorgeous violet eyes she had ever seen. The lust in her went from flame to firestorm, instantly ignited by that inescapable Arlanian allure, the inadvertent desirability that had annihilated the tragically beautiful people. She tried to resist but succeeded only a few seconds more. Raine lowered her head and the vampyr latched upon her neck and Raine tensed, which only increased the vampyr’s lust, for the hardness of that body on hers was thrilling.

And the blood was marvelous, an elixir, an intoxicant, an ambrosia unlike any other. It filled her veins and made her head swim. And the vampyr could not get enough, her hips moving against the woman who restrained her.

And then the source of her pleasure was removed.

Raine pulled her head back, now holding the woman with only her weight because she was no longer resisting. Raine’s eyes were still a dark purple, the substance of legends and impassioned dreams.

“You tell the Head of the Shadow Guild that I want to meet her,” Raine whispered. “And soon.”

Raine pushed herself upright in a lithe movement and brushed the black ash from her armor. She turned away and without another word, started up the stairs, unconcerned about exposing her back to her enemy.

The vampyr simply lie there, staring straight up into the darkness.

Raine stepped over the remains of the shattered door into the courtyard. She was relieved to see her comrades largely unscathed. One of the Tavinter was wounded, but Torsten’s expression told her that it was not yet life-threatening. Raine stopped at Feyden’s side.

“You must get the Tavinter to Elyara. She will tend to him. I,” she said, nodding to the figure silhouetted by the sun on the outer wall, “must go deal with that.”

Lorifal glanced up at the tall, elegant woman who stood gazing out at nothing. “Is that sword really made from the bones of her son’s father?”

“They have a complicated family dynamic,” Raine said, trying to explain, and failing. “Well, you’ve met Idonea.”

“Ah,” Lorifal said, “say no more.”

Raine picked her way through the courtyard then up onto the outer wall. She approached Talan who turned as she neared. She gazed at the wound on Raine’s neck with glowing amber eyes. Then, without a word, she snatched the girl to her and kissed her passionately, almost violent with need. And Raine returned the kiss with just as much fervor, her craving for her dragon lover like something alive within her.

“They don’t waste anytime fighting, do they?” Feyden observed from afar.

“No,” Lorifal said, also watching the ardent embrace, “and I don’t think we’ll see Raine for a few days.”

As if on cue, a brilliant flash of yellow light blinded those in the courtyard, and an enormous red dragon stood balancing on the wall as if it were a perch. Without hesitation, the young woman next to her leaped up onto the dragon, wrapping both her arms and legs about the creature’s sinewy neck. And then, with a great leap skyward, the dragon thrust her wings downward and moved powerfully upward, and the dragon and her lover disappeared into the sun.

Raine was in agony. She thought Weynild, Talan’s less formal name, was intent on killing her. The rhythmic beating of her wings coupled with the movement of that sinuous neck between her legs invariably brought her pleasure. And she had been apart from her lover so long that she was already desperate with need.

“I thought we were only going a short distance,” Raine said through gritted teeth.

“Is there a problem back there?” Weynild said, her deep throaty voice filled with amusement.

“You know that there is,” Raine said, suppressing a moan. “You are torturing me.”

“Hmm,” Weynild said, “like that vampyr you were seducing?”

Raine knew Weynild was teasing her, but she truly was on the brink of losing control.

“I warn you, if you do not land quickly, I’m going to come right on top of you.”

“No, no,” Weynild said, dipping a wing and circling her intended landing. “You know I like it better when you’re on the bottom.”

This playful innuendo was nearly too much for Raine and the dragon landed lightly upon the flattened peak of a mountain. A flash of yellow light, a chaos of tossed clothing, and Raine was on her back on something that looked like an altar. Weynild was on top, pressing against her, driving into her, the firm breasts so tantalizingly close but just out of reach. And Weynild kissed her everywhere, her lips, her eyes, her throat, and when she moved to the throat, she bit her on the side that was untouched by the vampyr, not enough to break the skin but enough to send Raine into a frenzy of desire that was expressed in the movement of her hips. Weynild matched the movement of those hips with a skill that was maddening, pushing her young lover to the point where Raine felt the mental swoon that comes with perfect sex, the blending of the mind, body and soul that culminates in extraordinary physical release. And Raine did release, again and again as wave after wave of pleasure shook her, and her lover did not stop, her own climax driving her on until both collapsed, Raine releasing the legs she had locked about her lover’s waist and Weynild collapsing on top of the beautifully muscled body beneath her.

“The only good thing about being apart is that our reunions are so epic,” Raine murmured into Weynild’s hair.

“Hmmph,” the dragon said. “We are like that if we are apart for a quarter of an hour.”

Raine chuckled. “Agreed.”

Weynild raised herself up slightly so she could look upon her Arlanian. The purple eyes were fully displayed, the ones which Raine hid but would be revealed with deep emotion, and they were always revealed for her. It never ceased to amaze her how this small creature could satisfy her. It was almost impossible to sate a dragon, let alone exhaust one in the act.

Raine looked at Weynild with great love, then, for the first time since they had landed, she glanced around. She was indeed lying on an altar, with four pillars at the edges of the stone platform, all carved with depictions of dragons. It was open to the sky and it felt deliciously erotic to lie out in the open, naked except for her Scinterian markings, pinned by the gorgeous woman who lie between her legs with full breasts pressed to her chest.

“Let me guess,” Raine said, “this is a shrine dedicated to you.”

“It is,” Weynild said, “although every other sacrifice has paled in comparison to that.”

Raine glanced around. “It—“

Raine paused and Weynild followed her gaze to the far edge of the platform. Two wood elves stood at the top of the long staircase that led up the mountainside. They were stunned, openly gaping, and their expressions indicated they had been standing there for quite some time.

“Well, by the Divine,” Weynild muttered, and Raine burst out laughing.

The two wood elves came to their senses and prostrated themselves. Neither Weynild nor Raine moved to cover their bodies, for shame was foreign to both and there was no vulnerability in their nakedness. If anything, Weynild was mildly annoyed and Raine found the situation hilarious.

“Just go,” Weynild commanded them. The two elves scrambled to their feet and started to leave, and Weynild noticed they were carrying a nice sized goat. “And leave your sacrifice.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” they exclaimed, then fled back down the stairs.

“At least we’ll have something to eat later on,” Weynild said, eliciting another burst of laughter from Raine. Really, the whole circumstance was beyond comical and Raine could only imagine the stories that would spread after this encounter.

“Well,” she said, rolling over on top of Weynild and at last able to claim the breasts that had been so out of reach. “If this is your shrine, then perhaps I should worship you.”

Weynild caught her breath as Raine took the nipple in her mouth and the other hardened in paired consequence. She watched with golden eyes as those perfect lips toyed with her, then moved lower. She leaned back to gaze at the sky as her lover went to her knees and that head moved between her legs to worship her in a way that the wood elves could only dream of.

Many hours later, the two lie intertwined beneath the stars. Some worshiper had left an ornately embroidered tapestry that was now wrapped about them as a blanket, and their backs and heads were comfortably cushioned by a pile of fleece left by some supplicant. Small fires flickered in the vessels surrounding the altar, providing both warmth and the sweet smell of incense. Despite the fact that they were completely exposed, it felt cozy.

“I’ve always thought these gifts worthless,” Weynild murmured. “I stand corrected.”

“I might have to add this to my list of favorite locations,” Raine said.

“You really are an exhibitionist.”

Raine just grinned and it grew quiet as both retreated to their thoughts.

“Were you able to gain the help of the dragons?”

“I was,” Weynild replied, “my ally from the Great War, Kylan, has pledged her support. And she has confirmed that Volva and Jörmung, my enemies from that war, are in league to bring back the Hyr’rok’kin.”

“Does she think they are working with the Shadow Guild?”

“She does. She believes they are behind the contract for the assassination, but that it is one plot of many.”

“That’s bad,” Raine said.

“Yes,” Weynild agreed, “but the assassination attempt is the most serious of what is known. Have you made any progress?”

“I have,” Raine said, readjusting her head on Weynild’s shoulder. “I met a woman in the Emperor’s court, a seer. She is vampyre and claims to be the second in command of the Shadow Guild.”

Weynild raised her head. “And do you believe her?”

“I do. Her name is Malron’a.”

“I do not know her,” Weynild said thoughtfully.

“She sent me to a cave in Digranes. It was filled with vampyres, but no great test. Then she gave me Hestr, which did indeed house a member of the Shadow Guild. So I am inclined to believe her.”

“And why is she helping you?”

“She wants me to kill the Head of the Shadow Guild.”

The silver head came back up. “She doesn’t want much, does she?”

“As second in command, she has no authority to cancel the contract for the head of state. But if she is in charge, she has said she will do so.”

“And do you believe her?”

“I don’t know,” Raine said. “I don’t trust her. But I don’t have anything else to go on. And she has offered up something that could cost her greatly.”

“And what is that?”

“Pernilla.”

Raine could feel the slight shift in Weynild and turned to her knowingly. “That is her name, isn’t it?”

Weynild was quiet for a long moment. “It is,” she said at last. “And I hate to put you in this position because she is a very dangerous individual. But she would flee from me and become unreachable, whereas you will draw her in.”

“I had a feeling I was being used as bait,” Raine said, “which is why I’ve been sharing my bodily fluids so freely.”

The playful jab told Weynild that Raine was not angry with her and understood why she withheld information. It was also enough to rouse her possessiveness, and she rolled over on top of her lover, pinning her hands to the fleece.

“Take care, little one,” the dragon said, “do not make me sacrifice the fate of Arianthem out of jealousy.” Raine simply pushed upward and stole a kiss, and the dragon spent several hours reminding the Arlanian that she belonged to her.

Chapter 12

I
t was indeed several days before Raine returned to the imperial capital and Weynild returned to her search for her kind. Kylan had given the dragon insight as to where she might find those favorable to her quest, and where she might find those opposed. And so, after dropping Raine off in the forest close to the capital, engaging in a passionate goodbye, the dragon disappeared once more into the sky.

Raine found Idonea, who could tell by Raine’s sunny disposition that she had spent time with her mother, and Idonea related her adventures in the imperial court. Apparently negotiations between the Alfar and the imperials were progressing favorably and rapidly, aided by the Baroness of Fireside. Idonea had both scandalized and fascinated the court, which had accepted her wholeheartedly for they valued entertainment far more than propriety. Raine was glad that Idonea was nearly finished with her role-playing for she could see the Ha’kan were getting restless and wished to return to their search for Skye.

Just as Raine wished to return to Malron’a, which she did as soon as the sun set, once more using the night and her furtiveness to gain access deep into the castle.