Blood Rites 5, page 12
Lazarus pulled her against his side and kissed her forehead. “You’re being a very responsible mother,” he said. “I can’t think of anyone better suited to the job than Victor. I think he might be sulking because you surprised him. He likes to be one step ahead of everyone, but he mis-stepped this time.”
Bella leaned against his chest and let Lazarus’s words flow like a balm over her feelings of anxiety and self-doubt. Then she frowned. “Serves him right,” she muttered. “I’m certain he only showed up to gloat because he’d heard about the mess at Haven House. What happened there, Lazarus?”
He gave her another, more detailed description of the events that led up to Jace’s remarkable transformation. Bella found herself glowing with pride at his story of the wolf-boy’s protective instincts. Though she didn’t look forward to questioning more of Sanguiana’s followers. The last batch had left her feeling simultaneously overstuffed, and exhausted.
But maybe another feed would do her good. They were going into battle, after all. Now, of all times, she should not be hesitating to feed her dark powers.
“Bella?” Lazarus asked, interrupting her thoughts.
She pulled away from him, lifting her eyes to his. “Yes, Lazarus?”
“You mentioned Selena,” he said, concern wrinkling his brow. “How is she? I’m ashamed to admit I’d forgotten about her illness in all the excitement of Gisele’s return. Is she all right?”
Bella felt her smile tremble and wilt, wishing he’d asked any question but that. She’d peeked in on Sylvia and her charge before she and Gisele had gone down to see Yvila, and… Bella sighed. Jace wasn’t the only one who’d undergone a sudden, inexplicable transformation.
Thank goodness for Sylvia… At least she could shape-shift into something big enough to restrain the demonic woman.
“Well,” she said, realizing there was no point in trying to hide the truth from Lazarus. “Perhaps it’s better if you see for yourself.”
12
The Darkness Within
Lazarus followed Belladonna through the dimly lit corridors of Blackwood Manse, their footsteps echoing softly on the ancient stone floor. She led him through a lesser used wing of the building, one he hadn’t been in before. When Bella opened a creaky wooden door leading to a narrow, winding stone staircase Lazarus put a hand on her shoulder.
“This isn’t the way to the guestrooms,” he said. “Isn’t she in her usual room?”
Bella pressed her lips together and avoided Lazarus’s eyes. “She was,” she said. “But Sylvia recommended moving her before… it became unwieldly to do so. She’s staying in the tower room now. Just until we get this problem sorted.”
“What problem, Bella?” Lazarus insisted. But the baroness didn’t answer. She took a lantern off the table next to the door, lit it, and began to climb the twisting stairs.
The air inside the passage was thick with a sense of foreboding. Small, dark portraits of Belladonna's ancestors had been hung along the passage, and they seemed to watch the passing pair with an intensity that made Lazarus feel like they were trespassing. Whatever used to be kept in this tower was not something the Blackwoods shared with outsiders, that much was obvious. Lazarus met the gaze of each painting, wondering about its story. The dark eyes that had witnessed centuries of history, however, were reduced to silent observers.
The tower room had a heavy wooden door, banded with blackened iron, just off a thin crescent of stone that served as a landing. As they approached the door, a sense of unease grew within Lazarus.
He could hear Sylvia on the other side. Her voice, usually cocksure and controlled, sounded strained and hesitant as she attempted to negotiate with Selena. Belladonna’s eyebrows drew together as she stood before the door with her hand raised to knock. Each muffled word that escaped through the door and onto the landing seemed to worry her more.
To Lazarus, the sounds from the other side of the door were more than unsettling—a mix of groans and what could only be described as the creaking of strained leather and rattling chains.
“What’s happening in there?” Lazarus's hand rested on the doorknob, feeling the vibration of some great turmoil within. “It sounds like someone’s being tortured.”
Belladonna shook her head. “I… I don’t know,” she said, her voice laced with worry as she finally confided in Lazarus. “She was changing, Lazarus. She was finding it harder to control her demonic impulses.”
Lazarus felt his jaw tense. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“She didn’t want you to know,” Belladonna whispered hurriedly. “She was ashamed at her lack of control, and the fact that you… you inspire the strongest of her feelings, Lazarus. She was worried she would do something she would regret.”
“Me?” he said. “What have I done to her?”
Belladonna laughed ruefully, her hand still on the door. She looked over she shoulder at him. “Nothing, Lazarus,” she said. “That’s precisely the problem. She’s been cursed with a succubus form, but her human instincts were able to override her urges until—”
A roar shook the door, alarming both of them. Lazarus understood the problem. “She needs to feed,” he said. “As you do. But she hasn’t taken any lovers since her transformation.”
Bella nodded. “She only wants you,” she said. “She was determined to win your affections, no matter the cost. But she underestimated how strong those urges would become. We had hoped that if we snuck her away, she could regain control and give her enough time for you to notice her.”
Lazarus ran his hands through his hair and blew a slow breath out through his teeth, trying to remain calm. “Notice her?” he laughed. “I can barely keep my eyes off her. I tried, obviously. I stayed away from her out of respect for you, because of your history, Bella. I trusted that you’d bring her into the fold when you were ready.”
Bella grabbed his sleeve in her hand, wrenching him away from the door. “If you wanted her, why didn’t you tell me?” she hissed. “All of this could have been avoided! You’ve been avoiding each other since we returned from the Shattered Citadel. I know why she’s been avoiding you, but I assumed you weren’t interested. Dammit! This is our fault!”
Lazarus was stunned.
“I thought she was angry with me! Every time I entered a room, she left. Or if she couldn’t leave, she pretended I didn’t exist. I didn’t know what I’d done to insult her, but I’ve been busy planning a war. I wasn’t going to chase after her if she didn’t want anything to do with me.”
His words were punctuated by loud thud from within the room, like the sound of a heavy object hitting the floor. Sylvia cursed loudly, and something hissed back.
Bella bit her lip. “All right… well… mistakes were made. Now, we’re going to have to unmake them. But, you might feel differently when you see her now, Lazarus. She’s, uh, quite terrifying.”
Lazarus took a deep breath and knocked on the door. “Sylvia?” he called. “Are you all right in there? I’d like to speak with Selena if I can.”
An ear-splitting roar shook the door again, and a series of thrashing and thumping noises followed.
“Uhh, Lazarus?” Sylvia said, her voice deeper than it usually was, as if she were using a larger form. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. Selena’s feeling a little emotional at the moment.”
With a firm resolve, Lazarus put his hand on the door handle. “I’m coming in,” he said. “Bella is with me. I know what’s going on, and I want you all to understand that we’re going to get through this together. I can help.”
His voice was steady, imbued with more self-assurance than he felt. But they were all in this together, and Selena's fate was intertwined with his, no matter what he found on the other side of the door.
He twisted the handle and pushed the door open. It creaked, and slowly swung into the room, revealing a scene of chaos and destruction. The room was in disarray, broken furniture pushed against the walls. Chains looped through sturdy metal eyelets in the walls and ceilings, wrapped around a massive figure at the center of the room. It was Selena, but not as he’d seen her last. Sylvia had shifted halfway into her silver-scaled dragon form in order to bind and hold the succubus, but even then it seemed to be an effort.
Lazarus nodded to Sylvia, then turned to the succubus. “Hello, Selena.”
“Don’t look at me!” she bellowed, writhing in her chains with her coal-fire eyes burning into his. “I’m a monster.”
Selena's new form was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. She towered over Lazarus. Her skin had taken on a deep red hue, tough and textured like volcanic rock. Thick, black horns spiraled from her temples, adding to her already imposing height. Her eyes glowed like molten lava, flickering with an inner fire that spoke of untamed power. Sylvia had bound Selena’s powerful black wings with chains that looked painfully tight, and a black, pointed tail lashed behind her.
She was still recognizably female—only scaled up to giantess proportions—and her face was still her own. The demonic features distorted her visage somewhat, but she still looked like herself. Her once-pretty face now with the feral, terrifying beauty of a predator, was framed by wild tangles of white hair, streaked with black.
The remnants of her clothing, black leather torn asunder by her transformation, hung in tatters, barely covering her newfound form. Her curves were still in evidence, though thickened by corded red muscles that pulsed as they wrenched against the chains. Huge breasts, strained against a scrap of leather that had once bound her chest.
Yet, despite her monstrous transformation the intoxicating draw of Selena’s succubus nature was working in full force, perhaps stronger than ever. Lazarus took in the giant of a woman and felt his mouth go dry with a combination of fear and arousal.
“You’re not a monster,” he said, keeping his voice low as he stepped into the room. He locked his eyes on hers like he would a wild beast challenging him for dominance. She panted, not breaking his gaze, as she continued to strain against her bonds. “I didn’t think so before and I don’t think so now. We need to decide how to fix this, Selena.”
She growled, deep in her chest and tore her blazing eyes from his, staring at the wall instead.
“Easy, Lazarus,” Sylvia warned, her silver scales flashing in the light of Bella’s lantern. “She’s strong, and she wants—”
As Lazarus stepped into the room, Selena lunged, driven by a primal lust. Her clawed hands swept out for Lazarus, but he ducked and sidestepped the attack. Bella intercepted the demoness’s swipe with a powerful kick that caught Selena’s forearm just below the elbow, snapping her arm away from Lazarus. Sylvia heaved on the chains, shouting, “Enough, Selena! Get control of yourself. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? This is what the human inside you needs! Control yourself, or lose that part of yourself forever.”
Selena roared, covering her face with her large, clawed hands, her shoulders shuddering as she fought to overcome the urges that threatened to overwhelm her. Bella closed the tower room door and hung the lantern on a hook on the wall.
Sylvia grappled with Selena, her scales shimmering in the dim light. “I can hold her, but not forever,” she said, her voice strained as she managed keep Selena from lunging a second time. “The longer this takes, the more likely she is to lose to the beast she’s fighting. She’s been growing weaker rapidly, the real her. I’m afraid it might be too late to save her.”
“I’m here now,” Lazarus said, speaking to the demoness. “We’ll make this right, Selena. Understand? But I need to know this is what you want.”
Belladonna appeared at his shoulder with her hands ready in a fighting stance. Her vampiric powers made her much stronger than her human form appeared, and Lazarus was relatively certain that she and Sylvia could restrain Selena long enough for him to help her. If she wasn’t beyond help.
“You should be scared,” Selena rumbled, her monstrous face turned to the floor. “Succubi prey on mortals. I don’t just want to mate with you, Lazarus. I want to ride you to your grave. If I wasn’t bound, I’d have fucked you to death the moment you stepped in that door.”
Lazarus stepped closer, keeping his guard up in case of another surprise lunge.
“I’m not a normal mortal, Selena,” he said. “If I take you now, I plan to have you many more times. Once will not be enough for either of us. Is that what you want?”
Selena thrashed against her chains and roared in frustration, but she didn’t answer. Her chest heaved with restrained breaths, her pendulous breasts bouncing above her taut stomach and thick, muscular hips and thighs. Despite her alarming appearance, Lazarus found himself stiffening at the idea of taking this woman as his own. The air around her reeked with desire, and he knew their union would be unlike anything he’d ever experienced.
But would binding Selena to him be enough to help her overcome the curse? Of that, Lazarus wasn’t certain. Still, he felt it was his duty to try. He should have taken her after her victory against Duchess Talon’s necromancers. Then, perhaps, this wouldn’t have happened. But if any mortal was strong enough to bed a succubus and survive, surely it was him?
“I’m not going to make love to a bound woman unless you tell me that’s what you want,” Lazarus pushed her. “Say it. Tell me what you want me to do.”
Selena’s eyes blazed as she glowered down at him. “You must promise me something first.”
“What kind of promise?”
Her shoulders heaved, red muscled arms twitching as she attempted to shake the chains from her wings. But it was as if her body was acting of its own accord, an instinct that her mind was barely able to fight.
“If you’re wrong—” she began, the words tearing from her throat as if it took all of her self-control to stay focused on the moment. “If you’re wrong, and I am too strong for you…” She forced herself to look away from Lazarus long enough to meet Belladonna’s gaze. “Your women must promise to kill me. You must promise to let them.”
Behind Selena’s muscular shoulder, Sylvia nodded. She adjusted her grip on the chains that held Selena to the floor. “I’ll do it,” she said with the cold efficiency of a professional killer. “I don’t want to, but if it comes to saving you or the kingdom, I’ll kill you in a heartbeat.”
Bella took longer to agree. “We were enemies once, Selena,” she said. “And once I wished you dead. If we can save you, I will do whatever it takes. But yes, if your essence appears to be hurting my love, I will have no choice. I agree.”
“I hope it won’t be necessary,” Lazarus said. “But I admire your conviction. If we are agreed, then I only need you to say the word.”
Selena closed her eyes, her body shuddering, as she fought to control her excitement and her need. “Yes,” she whispered. “Even if I must be bound every time you come to me, I would have it this way rather than not at all. Fuck me, Lazarus.”
Lazarus nodded, stepping closer to the demoness. Chains rattled as Sylvia braced herself for the oncoming battle. Bella said, “I’m ready.”
Selena thrashed again, whimpering like a dog in heat. She fell to her knees, bringing herself closer to Lazarus’s level, and her blazing eyes fixed on him, begging for the release that he promised. Her gaze, her scent, everything about the giantess tugged Lazarus forward, strong enough to defeat any self-preserving instincts that threatened to override his suddenly overwhelming need.
But he had Belladonna and Sylvia with him. He trusted his women to keep him safe if he lost his ability to keep himself so.
“Good.” Lazarus shuddered, letting the flood of Selena’s demonic influence wash through him unhindered. “Hold her steady,” he warned. “I might not be able to stop once I start.”
13
Monstrous Urges
Lazarus approached the bound demoness with fire burning in his veins. The feeling was similar to the rage he felt when his blood magic overtook him in the midst of a battle. Except it wasn’t rage he felt. It was lust. Every step he took that brought him closer to the red-skinned giantess set his mind reeling with desire. His entire body hardened, as if it knew it would have to fight for survival the moment he touched Selena.
Sylvia and Belladonna murmured encouragement, but even that faded into the background as his vision and focus tunneled on the monster before him.
Selena was hunched on the floor, her shoulders heaving against the chains that bound her there. Her wings attempted to beat free of their bonds, the leathery flesh straining audibly. Her breasts hung almost to the floor from this reduced stature, and her muscular thighs were spread to bring herself lower. She kept her coal-fire gaze fixed on the floor as if in submission.
Lazarus knew this was no submission, though. She was afraid of what would happen if she acknowledged his presence. She was afraid that the demon spirit fighting for control of her soul would destroy him—and her with him—if she didn’t keep her urges in check.
He studied her as his own body strained to be free of its constraints. Lazarus removed one of his axes from his belt, keeping it in his left hand, just in case he had to fight for his life. Then he slowly undid his trousers, keeping his leather chest piece in place, another safety precaution.
The demoness’s red, stone-like skin was unusual but not repellant. In fact, he felt a strong desire to run his tongue over the cracks along her collarbones. Her cheeks were sharp and jutted, like her body had been carved from the stone itself. But the details were meticulous, fierce in their beauty. Full lips parted to allow sharp, fanglike teeth to protrude. Her neck, relative to the muscular shoulders, was a delicate reminder of her more human form.
Selena growled when Lazarus removed his stiffened manhood from its prison, surging forward as far as her bonds would allow. Lazarus stayed just out of reach of her clawed grasp.
He strained to speak, to draw his focus away from what he planned to do to this woman, and back to the instructions that might allow him to survive. “Bella,” he rasped. “I need her hands bound,” he said. “And her teeth barred somehow. We’re not taking unnecessary chances right now. Selena, don’t fight her, or I’ll walk away. Understood?”
