The Darkness Within, page 4
Arderin studied his thick brown hair and prominent chin. He was quite handsome, for a human. She wondered if his motivations toward Sadie were purely platonic. Could he be interested in her romantically as well?
Filing that away in her curious brain, she stepped to look at the sample under the microscope. Tiny cells, burnt only minutes ago, had regenerated to be quite smooth again. “I have to find a way to convince Sathan to let me travel to the human world.”
Nolan sighed beside her. “I’d hate to see you guys get into an argument. You’ve been getting along so well.”
Arderin rolled her eyes, training them on his. “Because he’s in love and stuck in la-la land all the time. He doesn’t have time to drive me nuts now that Miranda’s pregnant. He’s more protective of her than he is of me at the moment. I’ll feel her out. Maybe she can be swayed to let me travel there. He’d do anything she asked him.”
Nolan lifted a tawny eyebrow. “He’s pretty set on keeping you safe, here in the kingdom.”
“Well, it’s not his life. I told him recently that I’ve grown tired of letting him have a say. If he’s not careful, I’ll just go. It will be much more difficult to travel there without his help and support, but I’m getting tired of his crap.”
Nolan smiled. “Well, I wish you the best in your efforts to sway him. If anyone can, it’s my curious and stubborn little student.”
Arderin felt her lips curve. “I’m so happy you’re here, Nolan. I know you must feel lonely. Believe it or not, I feel lonely too. More often than not lately. You can always come to me if you want to hang.”
“Thanks, sweetie,” he said, running a hand down her hair. “I don’t want you to feel lonely. I’m always here for you too.” His six-foot height was the same as hers, and she smiled into his eyes and gave him a firm hug.
“Okay, I’m off to find some Slayer blood. I’m starving. Let me brainstorm. I’ll figure it out.”
With a nod, he turned back to the microscope, and she departed the infirmary, determined to get to the human world or bust.
Chapter 4
Darkrip materialized into Miranda’s royal office chamber at Uteria. The room held a long mahogany conference table and the other members of the council milled around. He noticed Kenden, Miranda’s chestnut-haired cousin, chatting with Aron and Larkin as he drank coffee from a white paper cup. Aron was a Slayer aristocrat. Larkin was the resilient soldier who commanded the combat troops at Uteria.
Lila was smiling at Miranda as she rubbed her rounded abdomen. Miranda threw her head back and laughed at something the woman said, and Darkrip’s heart squeezed. No one laughed quite as heartily or fully as his beautiful sister.
Latimus and Sathan stood chatting, arms crossed against their beefy chests. They made a formidable pair indeed. Although Arderin’s threats to have them murder him were pithy, they still could likely beat the shit out of him before he gained his wits and ability to use his power to destroy them. Deciding that would expend too much energy, he reminded himself that was one more reason why he’d never touch the obstinate little princess.
Miranda gave Lila a friendly hug and walked toward the head of the table. “Okay, guys, let’s get started.”
Sathan sat to her right, his usual seat when they met at Uteria. In return, he always sat at the head when they held their combined council meetings at Astaria. Latimus sat to her left, Lila sitting next to him. Although Darkrip didn’t like many people as a general rule, the blond-haired diplomat had always been so kind to him. A recent battle with his father had led to him almost striking her and he still felt quite guilty about it. Strange, since a creature like him rarely felt any emotion, especially one as ridiculous as guilt.
“Hi, Darkrip,” Lila said, cordiality swimming in her stunning lavender irises as he sat beside her. “How are you?”
“Fine,” he said, forcing himself to smile at her, uncomfortable with her graciousness toward him. Especially after he’d almost killed her. Swallowing thickly, he waited for Miranda to speak.
She was still standing, making eye contact with each of them as she spoke. “Thanks to everyone for coming together this morning. One of the security systems for the train from Naria to Lynia went offline this morning, so Heden is at Astaria repairing it. He sends his regards. Today, I want to discuss what we’ve found and chart next steps. Sathan and Latimus spent two days going over the archives at Valeria, and Aron and Kenden searched the manuals here. Sathan, why don’t you go first?”
“There wasn’t much,” he said, as Miranda sat. “The archives at Valeria aren’t as extensive as the ones at Astaria, but we did find a few things.” Opening the notebook that sat before him, he touched the white page with his thick index finger.
“There’s a mention from the fourth century of a woman with flame-red hair who came to meditate for several consecutive decades at the statue of the Great Buddha in Kamakura, Japan. The archivist noted that her hair never turned gray. It’s quite possible that it was Evie.”
Latimus nodded across from him. “There’s also another entry from the seventh century that details a pale woman turning into a dragon. It’s a fairy tale that circulated around the villages of Japan for centuries. The dragon was said to breathe fire the color of the woman’s hair and originated in the modern-day town of Zushi. It’s a coastal town that’s also located close to the Great Buddha statue. The dragon was described as quite evil, to scare children into behaving. We were thinking that perhaps Evie murdered some of the locals and this was the resulting fairy tale, passed down through the ages. If so, Japan could be a place she frequents quite often.”
Sathan looked around, connecting with everyone as he continued. “There were no more mentions of her in Japan, although we did find some mentions of a red-haired woman in France and Italy. Since that’s where Kenden found her, that makes sense.”
Kenden tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Yes, I knew to look for her there from the mentions in our soothsayer manuscripts. After looking over them again with Aron, we did find a fable that the soothsayers wrote, warning children to obey their parents lest a woman come to abduct them. The story warned that she would snatch them under the light of the red sun if they misbehaved. Knowing that Japan uses that symbol on their flag, it could be a confirmation that she favors that location.”
“Okay,” Miranda said with a nod. “Anything else?”
“Unfortunately, that was it on our side,” Kenden said. “Most of the mentions of her in our manuscripts reference France and Italy.”
“Same here,” Sathan chimed in. “That was all we could find as well.”
Miranda stood, and Darkrip sensed her restlessness. “So, the next logical step would be to look for her in Japan. Darkrip, we need to get you there. I’m wondering if I should come with you.”
“No,” Sathan said, his dark eyebrows drawing together. “You can’t travel while you’re pregnant, Miranda. We’ve discussed this.”
Her nostrils flared with frustration. “I know. But she hates Darkrip since he tried to kill her. I feel like having me there would soften the blow or something.”
“I appreciate your faith in me,” Darkrip said, his tone sardonic. “But I assure you, she’ll talk to me if I find her. If for no other reason, then to try and murder me back. She’s nothing if not vengeful.”
“And if she won’t listen to you, how will that help our cause?”
“Let me try first,” Darkrip said, moving his gaze to make eye contact with everyone in the room. “She hates our father, and we are united in that. Let me at least try to see if her hate is strong enough to sway her to our cause. We share an understanding of our father’s evil that Kenden didn’t have when he found her. It could be enough to pull her to our side. It’s worth a shot before I drag you to the human world, Miranda.”
“Okay,” his sister said, inhaling a deep breath. “Do you all agree that this should be our next step?”
Everyone gave an, “Aye,” heads nodding.
“Then that’s what we’ll do. Let’s all wish Darkrip well and hope that he’s successful. Given that our grandfather’s blood courses through him, I expect he will be. Thank you all for coming. I value your council and know that we’re on the right path to killing that bastard. For now, let’s adjourn. I’m going to head to the main square to peruse today’s street fair, if anyone wants to join me.”
Latimus stood and addressed Kenden. “You still want me to help Larkin with the orientation for the new Uterian soldiers today, right?”
Kenden nodded, standing. “If you don’t mind. I need to do the final walk-through on the house today.” He was building a house close to his shed, on the outskirts of Uteria, so that he no longer needed to live in the main castle.
“Sure,” Latimus said. Leaning down to kiss Lila, he asked, “Are you going to go to the street fair with Miranda?”
His bonded nodded and gave him a peck back. “See you at the train platform at three.”
“Okay, honey. I’ll miss you.” Darkrip had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. Those two were so in love it made him want to throw up in his mouth.
Lila seemed to float out of the room behind Miranda, with Sathan and Aron accompanying them. Larkin and Kenden followed behind, chatting about the new long-range walkie talkies they had purchased for the soldiers to communicate more effectively.
Not bothering to stand, Darkrip decided he’d sit and stew a bit longer.
“Do you want to help me orient the troops?” Latimus asked him.
Darkrip contemplated. It would give him something to do besides wallow in his always constant rage and self-hate.
“You’re adept at using the TEC. I wouldn’t mind having your help to show the twenty new soldiers we have.”
“What the hell,” Darkrip said, standing. He had an eternity to concentrate on what an abomination he was. Why not help out the Vampyre commander? They’d grown quite cordial to each other lately, and Darkrip was impressed at the mighty army the man had built.
“Great. C’mon.”
Striding together, the warrior dwarfed his six-foot-two frame. But that was okay. Darkrip could still kill him with a thought. Smiling at the nasty image, he let him lead the way to the sparring field.
TWO HOURS LATER, DARKRIP was actually enjoying helping the troops learn how to deploy the TEC. It was a powerful weapon against the Deamons, its ability to latch onto their foreheads and plunge a blade into the vestigial third eye between their functional eyes deadly. It killed every Deamon with one discharge—except his powerful father, who was unfazed by the weapon.
As he trained three Slayer soldiers on the device, he saw the man to his left struggling. “You need to hold it like this,” he said, addressing the soldier. “Otherwise, it might detonate in your hand.”
The soldier fiddled with the weapon, accidentally dropping it to the ground. As he bent and picked it up, it seemed to shoot out of his hand, right into the side of Darkrip’s abdomen.
Sucking in a huge breath, he waited for the pain. And then he felt it. Pleasure on the highest level coursed through his body, causing his heartbeat to accelerate. It was another trait inherited from his wretched father. While others felt agony at the infliction of pain, Darkrip felt an immense joy. It was extremely evil and disgusted him thoroughly.
Latimus ran over, placing his hand on Darkrip’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” he asked, worry lacing his ice-blue eyes.
“Yeah,” Darkrip said, pulling the contraption from his side. Blood gushed behind, swamping him with a wave of bliss. Looking up at the Vampyre, he saw the realization resonate in his eyes.
“We’re okay here, troops,” he said to the three soldiers Darkrip had been training. “Take ten.”
“Sorry, man,” the offending soldier said, his eyes filled with guilt. They stalked off toward the nearby barracks for their break.
“I have a first-aid kit—”
“It’s fine,” Darkrip interrupted the commander, holding his hand over the gaping wound. “That’s what I get for trying to be nice and help people. The universe just isn’t ready for that.”
Latimus’ irises darted over him. “I understand that you’re not feeling pain. But the wound needs to be treated.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s time I get back to the cabin anyway. This Mr. Nice Guy shit just isn’t me.” Closing his eyes, he transported to his cottage. Pulling off his bloody shirt along with the rest of his clothes, Darkrip assessed the wound in the bathroom mirror. It was bad. A long, deep laceration ran down his entire left side. Cursing Vampyres for being the only immortals with self-healing abilities, he washed out the wound with a soapy cloth and applied the long bandage that he’d pulled from his bathroom cabinet.
Lying on his bed, Darkrip threw his arm over his eyes. The cut at his side throbbed, his dick throbbed—hell, his whole body throbbed. Wishing for nothing more than to never feel anything again, he drowned in self-loathing. Eventually, he fell into sleep.
Chapter 5
Darkrip angrily rubbed his eyes as he awoke. Feeling gritty, he lifted the bandage and looked at his laceration. It stared back at him, red and angry. Cursing himself for even agreeing to help Latimus in the first place, he rose from the bed and clenched his teeth at the sight of his near-to-bursting cock. The twisted pleasure-pain from his wound combined with his sick need to masturbate was driving him insane, reminding him of what a vile, nasty creature he was.
Looking out the curtains, he saw the moon. Good god, he’d slept for hours. His injury pulsed, and he realized he didn’t have the proper tools to treat it in the cabin. Checking the clock on his bed stand, he noted that it was almost midnight. Throwing on some sweat pants, he conveyed to Nolan’s infirmary, mindless of his bare chest. Since it was so late, no one else would be there.
When he reached the infirmary, he found a counter with cabinets above and all the appropriate medical supplies. Pulling out a needle and thread, he sat on the infirmary bed to start stitching. God, the wound was ugly. He inspected it, sewing the enflamed tissue together, hating the pleasure that shot through his body with each needle prick into his skin. And then, he stilled...right in mid-prick...
She was here. Her scent invaded his nostrils like an unwelcome army attacking the thick layer of protection he had built around himself. With a growl, he lifted his head.
Arderin stood inside the entrance to the infirmary, her eyes rounded as her pink lips formed a silent ‘O.’
“Get out,” he gritted through his teeth. He hated that his tone was so harsh, especially after their recent cordial conversation in the gym, but he detested showing vulnerability to anyone. That he would show it to her, the woman who seemed to pervade his every thought, was humiliating. Vowing to scare her away, he bristled, hoping she’d scamper off and leave him to drown in his self-loathing.
Her ice-blue irises lowered to the gash, where his hands were still frozen in mid-sew, and then lifted back up to his. “You’re hurt.” Her voice lacked the harshness he’d come to expect from her.
“Very observant, princess.”
She took two tentative but long strides toward him, her chin held high. “Who hurt you?”
“Arderin,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut as her smell overwhelmed him. “I would leave now, if you know what’s good for you.”
Opening his eyes, he observed that she swallowed visibly as she closed the remaining distance between them. “I think that’s the first time.”
“What?” he asked, his tone somewhere between exasperated and furious.
“That you called me by my name and not ‘princess’ or ‘brat.’ Now, I’m really worried.” Her lips curved into a half-smile as she looked down at him, her expression filled with concern. He felt scrutinized, as if he was a bug under a microscope.
“I’m not your latest science experiment. Get out.”
Arderin grabbed the needle and thread, grazing his hands as she took them. Fire sparked through his entire body from her brief touch. “You can’t sew yourself if you don’t clean the wound first,” she instructed as if he were a child, not the son of the Dark Lord who could pulverize her into a million bits with one thought.
“I cleaned it earlier. I’ve been injured thousands of times in the Deamon caves and sewn myself up just fine. Not all of us have the luxury of playing doctor for a day.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Since you’re in pain, I’ll let that one go. Give me a sec.”
Pivoting, she opened the windowed cabinets above the counter, pulling out a bottle of alcohol, some gauze and some bandages. Dragging over a tray that sat atop thin legs with wheels, she set everything on top. Coming to stand in front of him, she gave him an irritated look.
“Move your hands.”
Realizing that he was still holding his hands in front of his wound, he moved them, sitting the palms flat on the bed. Opening the bottle of alcohol, she poured a generous amount on the white gauze. Lifting those gorgeous eyes to his, she said, “This might hurt.” Her perfect features were laced with extreme focus as she touched the gauze to his wound.
It did indeed hurt, but that pain sent an agonizing burst of pleasure through his veins, compounded by her scent. Hating himself, he closed his eyes in shame.
Her short gasp indicated that she’d realized what he had so desperately wanted to hide from her. He wasn’t sure why, but he’d wanted his sick pleasure kept from her.
“I am the son of the Dark Lord,” he muttered to her, his eyes opening to form angry slits. “You should expect that I would feel pleasure from pain.”
She shrugged her slender shoulders and continued cleaning him. “Guess you’re lucky.”
Darkrip scoffed. “Yes, none are as lucky as I,” he mocked.
Arderin lifted her icy irises to him, filled with the quick flare of anger that he’d come to expect from her. “Most people would give anything to feel pleasure where there should be pain. Perhaps you need to change your perspective.”
