Bound (43 page)

Cael’s grip on Kira’s arm tightened as he
embraced his heritage—his upper lip curled into a snarl, exposing
his sharp feline teeth. “You are lucky I have had my fill of human
flesh today. Of course, I would enjoy a snack.” He leaned in,
licking the blood from between her fingers. “Ahh! Sweet, like
honey.”

“Let go of me!” Kira screamed, struggling to
get free.

Zerek and Cael half-carried, half-dragged
Kira down the long corridor and into a filthy stall, throwing her
to the ground.

Zerek’s eyes were black and empty—dark and
merciless. He slapped Cael on the back. “You go first, my friend.
I’ve always enjoyed watching a game of cat and mouse.”

Zerek’s words sparked a fire inside Kira.
She’d had enough. “I am
not a mouse
,” Kira mumbled under her
breath. Slowly and deliberately, she pushed herself to her knees
and stood. Holding her hands out in front of her, she said, “It
would be more fun if the
mouse
wasn’t tied up.”

Their eyes widened. Zerek slapped Cael on the
back again. “Shall I hold her down for you?” His wicked laugh
echoed through the barn.

Cael pulled his shirt over his head and
tossed it aside. “No, but you might want to stand back. I hear she
bites.” His eyes locked on Kira’s and she forced herself not to
look away. They weren’t black and empty like Zerek’s, but she could
still see the evil in them. Cael drew his knife, slipped it between
her hands and pulled up on the blade. The rope fell to Kira’s
feet.

She smiled, earning the back of Cael’s hand
across her good cheek. She fell against the stall divider with her
back to them. “Al,” she whispered. “Give me all you’ve got—I’m
gonna need it. It’s the only way we’re getting out of here alive.”
As she felt the warmth build and her pulse increase, she let the
rage from Octavion’s blood flow freely through her veins. She felt
her eyes burn cold and her adrenaline rise. For a brief moment, she
focused on the Crystor, sensing its powers hadn’t entirely left her
after all. There was still a tiny flame fueling her need to
survive. No man would ever hurt her again—and live.

She slowly turned to face them. “That’s all
you’ve got?”

Cael smiled, but this time when their eyes
met she saw a flicker of fear. He swore and took a step back. “Your
eyes—what kind of evil magic is this?”

Kira smiled again. “The kind that’s gonna
kick your Royal ass.” Kira sprang forward, using all her weight to
shove him back. He stumbled, hitting Zerek and taking them both to
the ground. Zerek swore and tried to push Cael off him while Kira
ran toward Shandira’s room. She had to find the journey stone.

Kira got as far as the doorway before Cael
hit her from behind. She stumbled, grabbing the leather and chain
contraption to keep her from falling to the floor. While holding
onto the harness, she used her forward momentum to propel upward,
swinging her feet around to deliver a powerful kick to Cael’s
chest. He fell back against a cabinet, breaking the flimsy door in
two and collapsing to the ground.

She found her footing just as Zerek came
through the doorway. The darkness of his eyes ignited the last
shred of power left in the Crystor as she pooled her energy into
the tips of her fingers. They burned like an icy fire igniting her
fury. By the time he got to her, she was ready. She reached out as
he drew his knife, deflecting the stabbing blow with one hand, and
grabbing the side of his neck with the other. Zerek’s body
stiffened as she projected all she had through his body, sending
him into a convulsing fit. He fell onto the cold concrete floor,
twitching uncontrollably.

Kira stepped back and looked down at her
hands. The tips of her fingers were dark and numb. She curled them
into fists and drew them into her stomach. “How did I do that?”

The adrenaline flowing through her veins gave
her the strength to fight back, but hastened the poison’s path
through her veins. With each labored breath she drew in, a thin fog
overtook more of her mind and body.

Cael stood, wavering on his feet, and glanced
at Zerek still lying on the floor. He turned to face Kira. “I
will
have you.”

Kira threw back her shoulders. “It’ll be my
cold, dead body you take. I’ll fight ‘til my last breath.” She
grabbed the chain and swung it in his direction, barely missing his
face.

Cael vanished and appeared behind her. He
wrapped his arms around her waist, carried her kicking and
screaming to the mattress, and threw her down. He leapt onto the
bed, crushing her beneath his weight. He had both her hands pinned
above her head with his body pressing her tender back into the
sheets. When he leaned in to kiss her, she jerked her head to the
side and bit down on his forearm, drawing blood. He struck her
across the face with his free hand.

“Give up. You will not win this fight.”

“Never!” Kira screamed. Kira’s head began to
spin and at first she thought it was from his fist knocking her
dizzy, but then the pressure of Cael’s body lifted and he sailed
across the room, hitting the far wall. The force of the blow
knocked him unconscious. Thinking it might be another Royal or
maybe one of Shandira’s scouts, Kira rolled to her side and tried
to get up to run, but she couldn’t keep the walls from spinning
long enough to gain her balance. When a strong hand clamped over
her shoulder, she turned, ready to fight. She didn’t even look,
just brought her foot up from where she lay and kicked, hitting
Nigel in the gut. He stumbled back, holding one hand up to ward her
off and the other to his stomach.

“You’re late,” she said.

A brief smile crossed Nigel’s face as he
offered to help her stand.

She accepted, but still couldn’t gain her
balance. She tried to step over the mattress to the shelves, but
her knees buckled and she collapsed onto the bed.
Not now. I
need a little more strength. One more burst of energy.
But
nothing came. “I need to know what they made me drink and find the
journey stone. Will you help me?”

Nigel knelt beside her, his eyes shifting
from her bloody face to her shivering form. He drew one of the
blankets up around her shoulders, then tore off a section of sheet
for her to hold over the cut on her cheek. He put his hand to his
heart and nodded.

“Thank you,” Kira said. “The bottle—she put
it in the sink. I need to get it to Octavion. He’ll know what it is
. . . might have something to counteract the effects.”

Nigel vanished, appearing an instant later
near the sink and without the slightest hesitation, was back
kneeling in front of her with the empty bottle in his hand. Kira
took the vial and slipped it into her jean pocket. “The stone.” She
pointed to the shelf.

Standing, Nigel rummaged through the boxes
and bags, but the stone wasn’t there. Kira tried to remember the
last time she’d seen it. Shandira was angry. She’d returned the
stone to its bag and tossed it . . .
onto the bed
.

Kira turned, her movements sluggish, and
pulled the pillows away, searching under the covers. She found it
wedged between the mattress and the wall. Sliding the stone from
its pouch, she aligned the markings. The two openings appeared and
the room filled with light. “Help me stand.”

Nigel lifted her from the bed and planted her
feet firmly on the ground, supporting her from behind.

She raised the journey stone into the air,
gave it a spin and let go. It stayed suspended, shooting colored
light out in all directions. She’d turned to thank Nigel when she
caught movement behind him. Zerek struggled to his feet, his knife
blade in his hand. With a flick of his wrist, he threw it.

“No!” Kira shoved Nigel to the side. The
knife deflected off his arm and into her shoulder. She cried out
and collapsed into Nigel’s arms.

Nigel lowered her to the ground and turned to
face his brother. Zerek had taken another knife from his boot and
stood, ready to fight. He sliced the air, taunting Nigel, beckoning
him. The whole scene came at her in waves as the pain in her
shoulder increased and the fog from the poison closed in around
her.

She turned away from them to look behind her,
but instead of the beautiful kingdom of Xantara, there were dark
pine trees and a crumbling stone wall. The image twisted, whirling
around the portal. It wasn’t what she’d expected. Had she done
something wrong? Had she opened the portal to a completely
different world than Ophira? A world without Octavion?

“You are not my brother,” Zerek yelled. “How
could you betray me like this?”

Kira turned her focus back to the Darkords,
now standing face to face. Nigel grasped Zerek’s hand, the knife
held fast in his fist. They wrestled with the weapon until Nigel
brought it down between them. Their bodies slammed together in a
violent thrust of muscle, sending the knife into Zerek’s side.
Their eyes locked for a moment—Nigel’s lips moving without sound.
Nigel lowered his head and closed his eyes, pulling the knife out
of Zerek’s side and tossing it across the room.

Kira’s heart ached as she watched Nigel pull
Zerek into his arms. He’d sacrificed his own flesh and blood to
save her life. A few seconds passed before Zerek came around and
drove the heel of his palm up under Nigel’s chin to break free.

Zerek stumbled to the doorway leading to the
barn stalls, then disappeared around the corner. Nigel took a few
steps toward the doorway and stopped, looking back at Kira. His
fists clenched at his sides, his chest heaving with every breath.
For a moment, Kira thought he would come back to help her, but
instead he followed Zerek.

“No,” she croaked. “I need your . . . help.”
Kira turned to look through the opening, its warm breeze whirling
around her now. She had to get through to the other side before
Shandira returned. Grasping the handle of the knife, she pulled it
from her shoulder and let it fall to the floor. She screamed from
the pain as the beams above her head faded from her view. She
wasn’t going to make it.

The portal is in the aubelet.
Nigel’s
thoughts invaded Octavion’s mind, finally giving him hope and
settling the ache in his heart.
Come quickly, she is not far
from death. I will hold back the others as promised.

Turning to face Luka, Octavion ordered, “Have
my chambers prepared and the physician waiting when I return. And
be prepared if I need your help.”

“Consider it done.”

Luka’s words were a distant echo as Octavion
appeared in front of the aubelet, its crumbling walls a witness to
the abandoned structure’s neglect. The thick wooden door leaned
precariously against its frame, sagging loosely from a single rusty
hinge. With a thrust of his foot, the door slammed against the
inside wall sending dust and dirt raining down from the rotting
beams, their skeletal frame giving a broken view of the starlit
sky.

He breathed deeply, the smell of Kira’s
tattered flesh already filtering through the portal. He pulled a
section of his tunic over his mouth and nose. He had to stay in
control or he’d kill her before getting her to safety.

As her scent grew stronger, Octavion felt his
transformation taking over, the muscles across his shoulders and
back swelling, his eyes burning. He pressed the fabric tighter to
his face and continued to the front of the structure where he came
to the altar—a solid slab of white stone carved from the mountains
of Eshman. The cold hard surface still held the blood stains of the
many sacrifices made to the God’s of Lor.

He closed his eyes and held his breath,
focusing only on the sounds—the scurry of a small rodent to his
left, the creak of wood shifting with the slight breeze, a whimper
coming from above. Without taking a single step, he stood at the
top of a rickety staircase that led to the loft and observatory,
now overgrown with ivy. Dead leaves and small twigs swirled and
danced along the wooden planks where the journey stone held a
doorway open to Kira’s world. He pushed through the whirlwind of
warm air and stepped onto the concrete floor of the barn.

At first he didn’t see her, but then noticed
fresh streaks of blood leading to where a tattered bundle lay on
the floor. When the bundle whimpered, Octavion’s heart clenched.
Now he could see her—her back riddled with welts oozing with
infection, her beautiful red hair tangled and matted with
blood.

As he went to her side, he took a quick
inventory of her injuries. Beyond the mass of cuts and bruises on
her arms and neck, her hands were swollen and deep burns cut into
her wrists where ropes had once bound her. The ends of her fingers
were dark, as if they’d been singed, her broken nails caked with
dirt and dried blood.

“Kira!” He fell to his knees and cradled her
head in his arms, carefully turning her onto her wounded back. “I
am here. You are safe.”

She gave no reply.

He brushed the hair away from her face
exposing a long gash on her cheek. Streaks of blood made a
labyrinth across her face and down her neck. He cursed.
Shandira, there is no place for you to hide, no sanctuary from
the evil you have inflicted. I will come for you.

Shandira’s sick laughter invaded his mind
before he threw up his defenses, blocking her thoughts.

He lifted Kira from the floor, not caring
that his tunic slipped from his face. He stopped when he smelled a
strong, pungent odor. He leaned closer to her face and dared a
treacherous breath. Mixed with the scent of her blood was
poison.

“Blessed, Zi'ah!”
Nigel, what did they
give her? What poison?

A few seconds passed with no answer.

Nigel!

Look . . . pocket.
Nigel’s thoughts
were strained and distant.