Marie Harte - Gale Season

Arim stood and held out his hand, his palm open facing the wall. Two growing dark portals appeared as he chanted. “Darius on the left, Marcus on the right. Go, and summon the royal guard as well. That dozen can be trusted. Give warning to your mother. She’ll summon the other kingdoms.”

They nodded and ran. Darius disappeared, and Marcus turned quickly to ask, “What about you?”

“I have to help Aerolus first. Now Marcus, Tessa needs you. Go.” Before Arim could finish, Marcus vanished.

After they departed and the gateways to Tanselm closed, Arim turned to Aerolus. “We need to go to Aelle. I have a friend there who may be of some help.”

“Good, because if you don’t, I’ll kill the Aellei, one by one, until I get my affai back.” Aerolus spoke calmly, but the murderous lust in his voice was readily apparent.

“Damn, I’m gone for a little while and Aerolus turns into a bloodthirsty warmonger. What else did I miss?” Cadmus chuckled weakly, then groaned. A moment later, he stared at Aerolus in shock. “Did you say affai ?”

“Yes, I did.” Aerolus stared at him before shaking his head, seeing something Arim couldn’t.

“What?” Cadmus sounded defensive.

“Nothing. Just be glad Arim is so pure of Light he can’t see what I now can.”

“Aerolus? Cadmus?” Arim stared at the two of them with growing irritation. It still baffled him that these two were so much more difficult to handle than their brothers. Darius was a hothead, Marcus an arrogant and dangerously crafty Storm Lord.

Aerolus, though powerful, was the quiet, obedient brother. And Cadmus used to be the light-hearted, comic relief. Why, then, was Arim having such a headache handling these two?

“I’ll deal with you later.” He scowled at Cadmus. Shaking his head, he stalked to the centre of the room. “Okay, then.” He grimaced. “I never thought I’d say this willingly, but let’s go to Aelle.”

Alandra groaned and rubbed her temple, the familiar smell of white lily stirring her unease. As her awareness returned, she glanced down at her nudity and quickly fixed an illusion of Aellein garb, a flowing white dress, to cover her body.

Her head throbbed, but she felt for the most part unharmed. She prayed Aerolus was all right, not knowing what had happened to him after the nasty Djinn threw her at two Der warriors and disappeared.

Unfortunately, nothing she’d said had convinced the Der to release her or send for Sava. One minute she stood in Tanselm, the next the Der had her back in Aelle. They’d thrust her into this dingy dungeon, its only concession to Aellein standards that it was one level below ground, with a small barred window that allowed a hint of air and light through.

Throwing her so hard she’d hit her head, the Der had left her alone while she’d moaned for help before blacking out. And now she was left to face…this.

She glanced around her and noted the cleanliness of the place and the cool feel of rock beneath her body. She should have felt chilled, but the warmth outside made the cell surprisingly temperate.

The entire room was made of blue rystone, impervious to Mir charms and time stamping, from the walls to the floor and ceiling, to the hard bed and stone table and stools fixed to the floor.

Grimacing at the ache in her back and head, she sat up slowly and swung her feet to the ground, made even more conscious of her vulnerability by the bareness of her toes.

“Oh, good, she awakens.” A slick voice immediately froze her.

Glancing to the source, she paled, seeing ‘Sin Garu, the Dark Lord who’d almost killed Aerolus and his brothers not so long ago.

Unlike the diminished sorcerer she’d helped fling out of Seattle weeks ago, this sorcerer stood tall and straight, both pale and beautifully masculine. Long, blond hair, not as light as hers, but more a gold in colour, shone with good health. Damn it . His thin lips curled as he stared at her, making her feel like a deer in a hunter’s sights.

“How are you feeling, purie ?” he asked, the copied nickname making her feel ill. “Oh, yes, I watched you with your Storm Lord lover, you delicious little creature.” His navy-blue eyes darkened to black as he neared and loomed over her. “For a petite female, you have the most remarkable figure. What wonderful breasts, and such a tiny waist.”

He licked his lips, and she stared, wondering if she’d see fangs like his brother had, praying she could escape this mess whole, without bite marks.

Seeing her attention, he smiled, showing sharp, white teeth. “Have no fear, Alandra. I’m not a blood drinker,” he said with disgust. “Their kind, frankly, sickens me.” His eyes burned, and she knew unrest existed between the Dark Lords.

Maybe she could use that to her advantage.

“Why are you here?” she asked in a polite voice.

“Such fine manners.” He chuckled and sat next to her on the hard bed. His knee brushed hers, and she was vividly reminded the dress she ‘wore’ was only an illusion.

“I’ve come because you matter, my dear. The magic within you is one of the keys to unlocking control of Tanselm. But of course, you knew this.” He eyed her shrewdly. “Were you hoping for a deal from B’alen? You must know he’ll take what he wants, regardless. I, on the other hand, am not so foolish to think I can control an Aellei possessing Storm Lord blood.”

She blinked, her heart racing, but remained composed. What, by Shadow’s heart, was he talking about? “ No, you’re not a foolish lord. A bargain, perhaps?” She stared at him, wishing she were anywhere but here.

“You’re much more intelligent than your aunt gives you credit for.” He nodded with approval. “Then again, you can’t afford to be choosy in here, can you?” he asked with a perceptive grin.

She’d have to be careful. He was no one’s fool. “As you say, I have a limited venue of choices just now. What did you have in mind?”

He stared at her, his gaze roaming her body and making her feel as if he saw through the illusion. But he didn’t move closer to her, for which she was decidedly grateful.

“My brother will come to claim you soon. When he does, go along with him. He’ll try to drink your blood, but you mustn’t let him.”

She gave him a look that had him grinning, and for a moment she wondered at his sudden likeability.

“That was a stupid thing to say, wasn’t it?” He shook his head. “Look, Alandra, I know you’re fond of Aerolus. Truth be told, of all the Storm Lords, he’s the least offensive, in my opinion.

“You, my dear, can love him all you like. But in the end, you are of Shadow, and he’s not. Like me, you crave the Dark. And while we may not see eye to eye about Tanselm’s future, you at least agree that the Dark should be able to coexist with the Light.”

She nodded, wondering where he was going with this.

“Good.” He seemed pleased. “Then you, too, stand against B’alen, whether you want to or not. My older brother,” he sneered, “would have you believe he means to wed you and make you his queen. But he wishes only to drain you of your power and ascend Tanselm’s throne with Lidra by his side, under his thumb.

“And once Lidra gets hold of you,” he said, surprising her at the speed with which he moved to grab her throat, “all this pretty glamour will be for naught.”

Her dress shimmered and vanished, leaving her naked and vulnerable in ‘Sin Garu’s grip.

“You are such a delectable treat,” he said softly, his teeth looking all too sharp the closer he brought his head.

“You said you’re not a blood drinker?” she asked quickly, startling him out of his lust-inspired trance.

“No, but I like to eat sweets,” he murmured and brushed his lips along her cheek, tightening his hand around her throat.