"Why find another when you serve well enough?" he said. "Now, come. I have a surprise for you." He held out his hand, waiting.
Slowly she pushed to her feet and turned to face him. Her heart thundered with the need to best him, but she merely crossed the distance and took his hand. Cold steel, that's what he felt like. "I want my husband released. McKell, too. They're good men. I'll take them to the surface, and you'll never have to see them again."
"How many times must I tell you? I don't want to discuss them." There was no room for argument in his tone. He ushered her into the next chamber. His. It was as ornate and lavish as hers, though it appeared uninhabited. The bedcovers were not rumpled, and clothes did not spill from the closet.
Her heart only decelerated when they exited into the hallway and headed for the alabaster columns leading into the ballroom. "You never want to discuss them," she muttered.
"Because the subject angers me. Bad things happen when I'm angry. Remember?" Like she'd forget. "Figured out how you're going to use me yet?”
“No."
"What's the holdup? 'Cause I'm willing to bring her to you in exchange for my man."
"I've thought of that. However, while I think you can find her without her notice, I do not think you can best her in a fight. And I cannot send troops with you, because she would sense them."
Bride refused to give in to despair. There had to be a way.
A gaggle of voices greeted her ears. Then, the more she walked, the more those voices blended with the strains of music and clinking glasses. Even ... moans? Usually all the entryways in the palace were open, easily accessible, but today—tonight?—the one into the ballroom was draped by more of that black velvet.
Manus pushed the material aside and urged her forward. Hesitant, she entered. And gasped. Vampires were everywhere. They held goblets filled with blood as they drank and laughed and danced. Naked humans lined the far wall, a buffet of choices. Males and females of every size and color. When they were chosen, they stepped forward and offered whatever body part was desired.
Hanging above them were Devyn and McKell. They were inside a cage, gripping the bars and staring over at her, as if they'd been expecting her. The princesses De-Ella and Jalyn were underneath them, laughing and throwing little pieces of human food at their feet.
A whimper escaped her as her gaze met Devyn's. Oh, my love. I'm so sorry. Her arm extended of its own accord, reaching for him, desperate to feel his skin against hers. Devyn reached out, too, but there was too great a distance between them.
Manus grabbed her wrist. "This way."
"No." He wanted to take her from Devyn? The rage she'd been suppressing these past three days boiled up, overflowing, burning ... sizzling. It was like acid in her veins. And yep, there were those burning thorns, as eager to cut at her as always. "I will stay here."
"We aren't leaving the room," the king told her, exasperated. "You have my word."
Still the rage churned, free now and unwilling to hide any longer. Her gaze never left Devyn's as she stumbled her way to the dais, where two empty thrones waited. Manus motioned for her to take the one next to his, and she did, her motions jerky, clipped.
"What are you doing to them? Why are you treating them like this?" Two proud men, imprisoned, objects of ridicule. I have to do something. Today. But what? She was strong, but she couldn't defeat the hundreds of vampires in this room. Not at the same time. And not without getting Devyn killed. As his safety was the only nonnegotiable part of her escape strategy, that wasn't an option.
Manus tapped his fingers impatiently against the arms of his throne. "I called this gathering together to show you a softer side to this great city and its people. Look how much fun they are having."
"Yeah. At Devyn's expense."
"As well it should be. He is a traitor."
"No. He's not." There was so much rage now, it seeped from her voice, hummed from her skin. The thorns sharpened, cutting deep and hard, and warmth spilled between her breasts. She glanced down and saw that she was actually bleeding, crimson soaking the material of her robe.
"Why do you like him so much?" Manus asked, unnoticing.
She dabbed at the blood, her hand shaking. "Why do you care?”
“I don't. I'm merely curious."
"Well, for one, he would give his life for mine." Not that a man as self-absorbed as the vampire king would understand that.
"You are sure of this? The Devyn of Targonia I know is always greedy for the next female to bed.”
“He was. Once," she said. "And yes, I'm sure." Look what he'd done for her already.
"I could prove that, you know? I could let him die for you." Manus clapped his hands and commanded the night's entertainment to begin. "I mean, if I were to leave him out for Fiona, a sacrifice, if you will, and she were to do to him what she did to my brother, you would do anything necessary for vengeance. You would find a way to slay her."
She ignored the new string of dancers on the floor. "I would find a way anyway, to save him from such a fate. But you know what? Now you've reached the limit. That's the second time you've threatened him, and I won't stand for another." The pain ... oh, the pain ... it was eating her up, consuming her. Killing her.
For the first time in her life, she embraced it, didn't try to fight it. More and more blood spilled from the wound in her chest. "The first I allowed to intimidate me. This one, I will not. This one, you will pay for."
He laughed. Actually laughed. "Already I can hear death in your tone. Perhaps I am finally on the right path."
How dare he calmly speak of Devyn's possible torture. How dare he even consider using the man she loved like that.
She sat there, panting and sweating and bleeding. "You. Will. Not!" The last was said on a scream as the rage exploded inside her. It was a bomb, destroying everything in its path, even the thorns. It destroyed who she was, what she was, dousing that inner fire with flames of its own, melting her, making her into a new creature.
"Oh, do calm down," Manus said without facing her. "I have not decided to venture down that road yet."
Her pain—gone. Her strength—unparalleled. She felt it sweep through her, a strength so potent she could taste it on her tongue, feel it singing in her blood, vibrating in her bones. She was drunk on it, dizzy.
"No. No!" Manus said, and she heard the fear in his voice. Her body is vibrating like Fiona's, he thought. She is nefreti. How could I not have known?
Bride could read his mind.
Still she sat, now as motionless as stone, gripping the throne, silent. A sea of other thoughts filled her head, rolling through her, some violent, some sweet, some hungry, all drifting from the dance floor. She was inside the head of every vampire present.
They were maddening, almost deafening, but she managed to ignore them. Her hands were hot, so hot, anything they wanted theirs for the taking. And they wanted vengeance.
"Guards," Manus shouted, his voice trembling. Because of the noise, no one heard him. He jumped up, meaning to run from her.
"Quiet," she told him, and his lips pressed together. "Sit." His expression was shocked and horrified as he fell into his throne.
No longer was her ability to make wishes come true muted. No longer would there be consequences. Anything she wanted, she could have. The knowledge was there, screaming from Manus's thoughts as he recalled his time with Fiona. She could stop time, as McKell did. She could create fire with her bare hands. She could erase memories and suppress another's powers.
"Bride. Bride!"
Devyn. She recognized his voice and turned toward him. Colors winked around him, twinkling stars of crimson and azure. His energy, she thought, awed. So lovely. So pure.
Love, love, love, he thought, his voice already so much a part of her that she had no trouble distinguishing him from the others. Thank God you're all right. I'll think of a way out of this, I swear I will. If that bastard touches you ...
No thoughts for his own comfort. No regrets for the torment he currently endured. All his thoughts belonged to her, for her. He truly did love her. Saw her as a cloud of bliss in the bleakness that was his life.
I'll get us out of this, she projected at him. His eyes widened. He'd heard her, she knew he had.
And now to save him. Her gaze narrowed on Manus. As she studied him, she saw that his energy pulsed erratically, scattering all the other energy around him. Except hers. Hers was too strong. This was how he'd stopped Devyn, she realized. Through a potion that bounced particles off of each other.
Vampires, she had come to learn, loved their potions.
You will pay. She reached inside his chest with a mental hand and squeezed. Squeezed so tightly the previously unused powers inside her recoiled. Still she held firm.
He gurgled out a pained breath, rubbed frantically at his chest, his skin growing paler by the second. He gazed at her, unsure about what was happening. He wanted to speak, but she hadn't released his tongue from her wish for quiet.
What's going on, love?
Devyn's voice hit her in a rush, laced with panic and frustration.
Everything's fine, don't you worry. I love you, she told him, never releasing her hold on the king. I love you, too, but how are we reading each other's minds?
Surprise, your wife is one of the most powerful people in the world. I'm going to handle everything, and then we're going home.
Will you be in danger? he asked. No. I freaking rock right now.
Well, let me have a little of the glory, at least, he projected dryly. No way. I want to tease you about this for years to come.
Manus was gasping now, and people were starting to notice. Two vampires even approached the throne. "My king?" one asked.
So what exactly are you planning? Devyn asked. You'll see.
—make her stop. The king's thought intruded into her mind. The closer he came to death, the louder his projections. So important. Can't die. Can't fail Terreck.
He'd loved his brother. Loved him more than his own life, and when his brother had been taken from him, he'd wanted to die himself. Then Fiona had come to him, taunted him. He'd wanted her head. Still wanted it, and would do anything to get it. Even lie. He didn't want to kill McKell and Devyn, wouldn't kill them. But he would keep them here, use them, to gain what he wanted.
With the realization, Bride released her grip on his heart.
He was panting, sweating.
So was she. Determined to finally end this, to leave and return above with Devyn, she rose. "Stand," she told him.
It was a command, and not something he could ignore. As before, there was power in her voice. Utter compulsion. It was not something he would be immune to later. No, this voice would continue to control everyone who heard it, no matter how many times they heard it.
The king stood, hate bleeding into his eyes. Nefreti bitch. "Yes. I am."
Anything you speak will happen. Will become fate. Anything.
Yes, she realized, the ability to sift truth from lie making itself known. His thoughts were true.
You'll destroy the world, you know that, yes? You'll destroy your lover.
He was ... right. She knew it, the future suddenly playing through her mind. She would return to the surface with Devyn. One day they would fight, as couples always did. She would say something she didn't mean. He would be hurt irrevocably.
Horror flooded her. She couldn't allow that to happen. Which meant, she couldn't go with him. Oh, God. She couldn't go with him.
Guards pounded toward her, their thoughts converging on her. Must save the king. Kill her before it's too late. How could this have happened?
She held out her hand, only that, but every single one of them went flying backward, slamming into walls and other people. There were gasps, muttered curses, then everyone stopped what they were doing and eyed her with the same horror she felt.
She could sense her ability to camouflage taking over, changing the color and texture of her skin and hair. Could feel her muscles trembling, wanting to break apart, mist and fly. To escape it all.
Not yet. Just a little longer.
Get the whips, someone thought. Perhaps all of them were thinking it. Have to get the whips. Only way to stop her.
"No one move," she shouted, and even Devyn and McKell ceased moving. Soon Devyn's skin paled, turned blue. She frowned, not understanding what was happening. Devyn?
Can't... breathe...
"Breathe!" she rushed out. "Everyone breathe." Oh, yes, she was a menace who would inevitably hurt him. When his color returned, she faced the king, tears forming and streaming freely down her
cheeks. "Devyn and McKell are going to leave, and you are going to let them. You are not to chase them. Ever. You are to leave them alone. If you even think of hurting them, you will suffer a pain like none you've ever known." I'm not sure I like this.
The thought hit her, louder than any before it, and so clear it was as if the woman was standing beside her.
Bride cast her gaze through the crowd, searching ... one of her new abilities allowed her to search faces with the precision of a computer, honing in. There, in the far corner, was a shadowy figure. She couldn't see the woman's face, it was cloaked, but she recognized her for what she was. A nefreti. Her powers matched Bride's in strength, in beauty, the aura around her as bright as the sun.
You are Fiona, Bride said. The one the king searches for.
Yes.
She was also someone who could stop Bride and hurt Devyn. You don't like what I'm doing, fine. Tell me what to do. I'm open to anything as long as the two men in the cage are free and unharmed.
