Sharon Ashwood - Frostbound

She couldn’t protest, the hot rage of betrayal too thick in her throat. How could her father agree to this?

“I asked for Max as our special go-between.”

Oh, God, Max! She turned to meet the king’s one topaz eye. Belenos licked his ruined lips. “I remember how good he tasted, don’t you? Dessert.”

Talia squeezed her eyes shut. “Stop it.”

“Are you hungry yet? Give it a day or two and I’ll bring Max in. I daresay it’s been a while since you’ve had anything but a dog to eat.”

Oh, no. She locked her knees, fighting the shudder that quaked through her. She couldn’t feed on her brother. It was bad enough that she’d betrayed him to Baines in the car as they drove to the university. But that’s exactly why her sire would starve her and then send Max in. It was her worst nightmare.

Belenos bent, and pressed his twisted mouth to hers. She could feel the scar tissue of his skin against hers, cold and hard and vampire dead. As she fought the impulse to gag, he thrust his good hand up the hem of her sweater, working his fingers under the lace of her bra. Clenching her body, Talia stayed perfectly still, knowing that if she recoiled there would only be more to come.

“You’re so frigid, I’d almost say someone had killed you.” He gave a soundless laugh that filled the room like a dirty secret.

“Let me go.” She didn’t open her eyes, but whispered the words like a prayer.

“It’s not time yet.”

His last reply made her flinch. What had she heard in his voice? Anticipation. “I’ve waited for this for months. Oh, I’ve known where you were, Talia. This is the computer age, after all, but I let you think you were safe. What’s the fun of having the humans send you back to me when I was just waiting for the right opportunity to come after Omara? The bonus of paying you a visit made this trip well worth the air miles. You’re my killone, get-one-free special.”

He leaned closer. “There’s something I want you to see.”

Talia kept her eyes closed. She was shutting him out. Denying what he had to offer.

“Look at me,” Belenos said, suddenly furious.

She squeezed her eyelids tighter, like a toddler having a tantrum.

He grabbed her chin, pulling her forward as far as the bonds allowed. “Look at me!” he roared. As he squeezed, she felt the slide of flesh against her jawbone.

Her eyes snapped open, glistening with the pain.

“That’s better.” With his free hand, he pulled a quartz sphere out of his pocket. “I’m in charge. Don’t forget that.”

He released her chin, letting her slump back against the chair. Her jaw throbbed, a pain for every place his fingers had crushed her.

He lifted the quartz. It sparked to life, a firefly of light glowing at its center and then blooming to fill the sphere. Talia watched with deep suspicion as the bright ball glowed in his hand, rimming the edges of his fingers with transparent red.

He shielded the quartz with one hand, hiding it from her view. “Let’s see who is down here. Where is Detective Baines? He was last seen bumbling into the wrong part of the underground.”

The image of Baines was blurry at first, but came slowly into focus. The detective was sitting on the ground, loading what looked like the last clip of ammunition into his sidearm. Baines looked dirty and in a desperate hurry, but there was no blood or broken bones that Talia could see.

Oh, wait. Baines was getting to his feet now, but struggling, using the wall for support. Something was wrong with his right leg. He couldn’t seem to put weight on it.

Belenos zoomed the image out a little, getting more of the surrounding area. “There are plenty of places where the tide has chewed caves into the soft rocks beneath the harbor, and many more where the tunnel floors are just wooden planking over the pits beneath. After a hundred years, some of that wood has rotted away. I’m afraid our brave detective has fallen through.”

Talia’s chest seized with tension. When the tide came in—around midday—all those underground caves would fill up, but that was a future problem. Right now, Baines had other issues. He wasn’t alone in the cave. Something had fallen in with him.

The cat looked like a creature made by magic, or it might have escaped from the Castle. It looked like a standard tabby alley cat—scraggly, thin, and mean—except it was bigger than nature intended. It must have weighed a couple hundred pounds.

It was looking at Baines as if he were a baby bird. Easy, tasty pickings. Baines was hurt, trapped, and running out of ammunition.

“Oh, this is too good, don’t you think?” Belenos cooed. He rose from his chair and crouched down beside her, showing her a better view of what he’d conjured in the stone. “What you see is what’s happening right now. How do you like my kitty? I made him specially to keep the detective from getting bored.”

“No!” she cried, forgetting herself and trying to rise from the chair.

It rocked forward, forcing Belenos to grab the back to steady it. The lapse of concentration made him lose the image.

“Bring it back! I have to see what happens!”

The desperation, the begging in her voice was a mistake. His mouth curled into a smile. “I bet you think your dog is going to ride to your rescue like a true-blue hero.”

He waited for the doubt, the wounded look as she took in his words, but her gaze remained steady. Lore doesn’t leave his people behind.

He gave a low huff of amusement and waved his hand again, and then she saw Lore, a fireball flying through the air over his head.

“Tsk, bad aim.”

“What is that fire?” Talia asked.

“Why, that’s how sorcerers fight, my duck. Basic wizardry. I’ve been teaching my troop leaders to use more than just guns. It’s hard for the enemy to shoot back when they’re burning to cinders. And werebeasts hate it. Teeth and claws are of no use, so all your hounds and wolves are just fish in a barrel, if you’ll forgive the zoological contradiction. The tunnels will positively stink with burning dog hair.”

Talia could see the hilt of a knife in his belt, but her hands and feet were bound. She wanted so desperately to grab it and slide the blade into his heart, she could feel the texture of the hilt against her fingers.

Belenos stood, checked his watch. “Tick-tock. Time to run. Next time I come back, maybe we’ll check on your friends. Maybe not.”

“For God’s sake, what do you want from me?” Talia let her fury show.

“Still plenty of fight left in you. Good. Next time, I’ll bring some toys. I’m dying to try out some of Omara’s techniques.”

Belenos slid the quartz into his pocket.

“What. Do. You. Want?” she hissed.

He picked up the gag, wrenching it back into her mouth. “Entertainment, my duck. It’s that simple. Le roi s’amuse. You owe it to me after stealing my money and running away. But that’s the last time—I’ve learned how to keep track of my things.”

He patted the pocket where he’d put the scrying ball. “Don’t forget that I’m watching you. There’s no escape from me. Ever.”

He ran a hand down the curve of her cheek, and then planted a kiss on her forehead.

Belenos’s men had one important strategic advantage, Lore decided. They knew the map of the underground warren, where the turnings were, where the dead ends could trap their enemy. What had begun as a rescue mission and sweep of the underground was turning into an all-out battle. Belenos wasn’t the only magic user on deck. His minions had training, too.

Where Lore had four bands of fighters, the sorcerer had dozens of small groups armed with fireballs roaming the tunnels. Lore had expected resistance, but nothing so deadly.