Deliverance (6 page)

25 BC

Turney had been living with
the leader of the village for the past month when he announced that it was time he was on his way.

Iliana felt faint when he told her that he would be leaving on the morrow. Tears threatened, but she didn’t want him to see her cry. She turned and fled into the woods, toward the cave. She knew that place better than anyone and could hide there for as long as she wanted. And she would need solitude to recover from not being in Turney’s presence anymore.

Just when she was about to enter the cave, a big, strong hand grabbed her arm and turned her around.

“Oh,” she gasped when she hit the solid mass of a man’s chest.

“Iliana,” Turney whispered. “Why do you run?”

Chin trembling, Iliana told him the truth, though she knew it wasn’t seemly for a woman to be so bold. “Because I am sad to see you go.”

He looked pleased by her answer. “Then come with me.”

Iliana’s father was not happy when she came home to announce that she was going with Turney. “You must marry him before you can go with him. It is not right otherwise!”

Turney entered then. His frame took up so much space that the house seemed instantly smaller. “We will marry tonight, if that would please you. Then we will take our leave in the morning.”

Iliana didn’t know how her father felt about that because her mother burst into the room then. “Yes,” the older woman cried. “My baby married to Turney! I can’t believe our good fortune.”

It was just a few minutes later that they walked to the village leader’s house and he married them. When Turney leaned down to kiss her, Iliana’s lips tingled with pleasure but her body felt unfulfilled in some way. Later that night, she learned what her body had craved with the first kiss. She experienced some pain, but was later given so much pleasure that she thought to die from it. It was nothing like her mother had said.

Traveling was everything she thought it would be and more, especially with Turney. People looked up to him as the god he claimed to be. Wherever they went, they were treated to the finest rooms with decadent foods Iliana could never have imagined. She savored the decadent desserts and hearty stews filled with exotic spices.

While the healer in the village had told her of the great cities, Iliana could hardly believe her eyes when they entered a large city with towering buildings and almost as many horses as there were people to ride them.

Turney loved the larger cities and stayed in those longer than the smaller ones. “I like the villages better,” Iliana told him one day. “They remind me of home.” She blinked back tears. She didn’t want him to think she regretted marrying him.

“Too bad, Iliana. The cities have more to do. I get bored with the villages. They are all the same.”

At one point, they were invited to visit the prince of Iberia. Turney asked her to stay at their room in the inn while he accepted the invitation.

When he saw her downcast eyes, he stroked her face. “You don’t have the proper training to meet royalty yet, darling. I’ll take you with me to the next one.”

Resigned, she nodded and sat inside for the evening. Turney didn’t get home until very late, when Iliana was asleep. “Turney?” she murmured when his weight settled down on the mattress.

“Yes, I’m here.” His speech was slurred. Surprise flittered through her. Wine and ale rarely affected him. He must have drunk a lot. She couldn’t sleep the rest of the night.

Turney enjoyed his time at the castle so much that he went almost every night. He told Iliana almost every day that he would take her the next time, but he never did. When he returned, he always smelled of alcohol and perfume, the aroma changing every time.

Iliana had learned through their travels that men taking mistresses was common. It wasn’t at all like the expectations she’d grown up with in her village. No man strayed there, and if they did, everyone knew about it. The adulterer was castigated wherever they went and they definitely would not cheat again. The idea of her husband sleeping with others made her sick, but Iliana didn’t feel like she had a foothold in this matter. If she confronted him, would he turn her out? She didn’t have money or friends. She had nowhere to go.

And so she stayed, tamping her feelings of betrayal and tolerating Turney coming home with the scent of other women on him. The worst was when he still wanted to exercise his husbandly rights with her. She smelled his lover’s perfume on her own body afterward.

Weeks later, feeling restless and lonely, she paced the confining space of her room. It was ironic, really. When they first arrived, she’d been delighted to stay in such a nice room at the inn. Now, she wanted to burn down the walls and drink in fresh air. She’d even be pleased with going back to the cave near her village.

I can’t stay in here one more night!
she screamed to herself. Not caring that she was unaccompanied, Iliana left. She kept her cloak over her head while she walked the streets and watched others go about their evening. There were couples walking arm in arm. Her throat constricted as she watched a man open the door for his companion and bow respectfully.

It was a slap in the face. She never realized it before, but Turney had never truly been a gentleman to her. Breathing became difficult and Iliana was about to turn back when she heard two men coming out of a tavern. She stopped when one of them murmured Turney’s name.

“I hear he sleeps with any girl that’s a maiden. That way they don’t get pregnant, he told me. Says that his seed don’t take with virgin blood.”

The second man piped up. “Did you hear about that whore he killed?”

A woman who had been about to proposition them stopped as if she’d been slapped. “She was my friend. We shared our clients. But that bastard killed her because she was carrying his brat!”

Blood rushed from Iliana’s face and she began to feel lightheaded.

“Serves her right, then,” the second man said. “I wouldn’t want to get a bastard on a whore, either.”

The prostitute gave a tight smile. “No need to worry about that with me, love. I’ve been working the streets for four years with no seed taking root in my womb.”

Both men inspected the woman thoroughly. “How much?” the first one asked.

As they negotiated their business arrangement, Iliana turned away, bile rising to her throat.
It can’t be true. Not one word of it. It’s just some gossip that got out of hand.
But she wasn’t convinced.

She rushed back to the inn and ran up the stairs to her room. Her head was swimming, so she laid down on the bed without even removing her shoes. Breathing deeply to calm herself, she somehow fell asleep through her anxiety.

When she woke, Turney was beside her, slumbering soundly.

After hesitating a moment, she took a breath and nudged his shoulder. “Turney?”

He smacked his lips and turned over.

“Turney I need to ask you something.”

“What?” he muttered.

“Is it true you killed a whore because she was pregnant with your seed?” Her question came out breathless. She’d never said the word “whore” out loud before.

He shifted and mumbled, “No child of mine can live in this world.” His breathing immediately went back to deep and even.

Iliana waited for several minutes, watching him closely. As quietly as she could, she slid out of their bed. Her heart pounded loudly as she quickly packed her belongings. She would need to take some money to buy food as well. She wasn’t even sure she could find her way back to her village, but she had nowhere else to run to. And she certainly couldn’t stay with a man who would kill so easily.

Just as she eased the door open a crack, Turney’s large hand reached around her and slammed it closed. “Where are you going so early?”

Swallowing past her dry throat, she whispered, “I don’t love you anymore.”

Turney looked bored. “So? I never really loved you, either.”

His callous demeanor and words hit deep. Her voice cracked when she asked him, “Then why did you marry me?”

He shrugged. “So you would come with me. You did amuse me for a while. Longer than most women.”

Her very core shook. “Have you married other women before to keep them until they no longer amuse you?”

“You’re the first, but I highly doubt you’ll be the last. It’s nice to have a wench in my bed while I travel.”

Tears sprang to her eyes and Turney laughed at her expression. “You still don’t understand, do you? I don’t age. I’m a god from a different world. I found an opening into your world through that cave where you found me.”

Iliana shook her head, her hair flying about her shoulders. “Lies. You lie!”

“Really, darling? Have you not noticed that the weather is always perfect wherever we go? That I always hunt the best game?” he challenged. “Have you ever seen a man as large and handsome as me?”

Staring up at him, Iliana was speechless. He couldn’t actually be a god, could he?

After studying her expression for a moment, Turney shrugged. “You want to leave? Then go. You probably won’t get the same treatment from strangers when you’re alone, but it’s no matter to me. I’m more amused by this prince and his court anyway.”

He opened the door for her and she fled, her face a mess of tears and
dis­enchantment.

Chapter 8

“Y
ou can do this, Samantha,” Liam encouraged. “Nikita will help you through it.”

Samantha barely registered his words, but she knew that something was happening. It was dark and humid. They had gotten off the boat earlier that morning before the sun rose in the sky. She knew that Nik had arranged a hotel room for them and they’d stayed there most of the day. As soon as night fell, Nik and Liam had ushered her out the door, but she’d been too weak to walk. She wasn’t sure how long ago that was.

Nik was still carrying her around the streets, and there weren’t many people around. If she’d been more coherent, she may have been frightened to be walking in such a seedy part of the city. But she wasn’t scared at all; she just wanted to sleep.

It felt as if they’d been walking forever. But she couldn’t bring herself to care. All she wanted to do was close her eyes, but whenever she tried, Nik would shake her and yell at her to open them.

“That one,” Liam said to Nik. The boy was pointing to a man who was standing across the way. The man was slapping a woman who was barely dressed. Once the man finished yelling, the woman bowed her head and ran over to a group of women in similar dress. They ignored her and eyed Nik with calculating eyes. One woman pushed her breasts together and smiled at him.

Nik lowered Samantha to the sidewalk, her back resting against the scratchy wood of a building. He disappeared from her sight, then reappeared a minute later. The vampire was crouched in front of her, holding the squirming man in his grip. His hand covered the man’s mouth and nose.

The white of the man’s eyes showed stark fear against his black skin. He stared at Samantha with a mixture of hope and fear.

“What?” It was all she could bring herself to say. Confusion muddled her brain and she felt like nothing around her was real anymore.

Liam leaned forward while his claws extended. The boy cut into the man’s jugular as he gave a muffled scream under Nik’s hand. Liam then reached out and pulled Samantha’s head toward the gushing wound.

When Samantha smelled the metallic substance, her mouth opened of its own volition. The blood called to her. It was life, her life. It would solve all of her problems and she had to have it in that very moment.

Closing her mouth over the wound, she began to suckle. The man went completely still after a moment, either from loss of blood or lack of air. But he wasn’t dead. His blood was pumping over Samantha’s tongue with a strong, steady flow.

The first swallow came easily. It was like drinking a nice smoothie after a long workout, and Samantha gulped as much as she could. As energy started to come back into her body, her mind was cleared once again. But then, the blood was suddenly thick and cloying. The overwhelming coppery taste, along with the thickness, disgusted her and she tried to pull away.

A hand at the back of her neck held her immobile. “You must keep drinking, Sam,” Nik whispered. “You’ve not had enough yet.”

The coppery blood was too hot for her to handle. It got caught in the back of her throat and she began to choke.

“Just relax, Samantha,” Liam said as he brushed a hand through her hair. “If you relax your body, you can get it past your gag reflex.”

Samantha tried, she really did, but just couldn’t handle it. She continued to choke and could feel the warm blood in her stomach mix with her bile and start to move up into her esophagus.

Nik let go of her neck and she pulled away and wretched onto the building behind her. It was worse coming back up, mixed with her stomach acid.

Tears streamed down her face and she sobbed in between gags. A large hand rubbed circles across her back and she knew it was Nik. She remembered what his touch felt like and it soothed her a bit. “You must try again, Samantha,” he urged. “You and Leisha will die if you don’t keep the blood down.”

He was right. She already felt the fatigue returning. She had to force herself to do this. If she didn’t, she alone would be to blame for Leisha’s death. Samantha had to give her friend a chance.

Turning back to the bleeding man, she put shaking fingers on his shoulders as she leaned down to his neck. Drinking the blood was even worse the second time. The thick liquid continued to trigger her gag reflex, but she forced herself to swallow it down and drink as much as she could.

“You did it,” Liam praised. “You can stop now.”

Samantha stood and looked down at herself. Her shirt was covered in the man’s blood, as well as splashes of her own bile. She used her sleeve to wipe the sticky fluid from her chin and stumbled until Nik caught her in his arms. Again, he picked her up and started carrying her. They walked past the group of prostitutes who were now without a handler. Samantha wondered if their lives would get better because of what they’d done, or worse. The women immediately lowered their heads and scrambled down an alleyway as Nik and Liam passed. A few of them had enough courage to watch them. One of them met Samantha’s gaze. The older woman’s face was haggard and lined. She looked at Samantha with pity shining out of her hard face, as if Samantha was the one with the most wretched life, not them.

“You are very strong, Samantha. Not many humans can bring themselves to do that.” Nik’s voice was laced with possessive pride. She broke eye contact with the prostitute and stared at Nik’s chest.

Samantha didn’t feel like she’d accomplished anything. Com­partmentalizing her emotions when she’d helped Leisha and Liam feed was one thing. Actively participating in murder was something else altogether. Bitter tears fell from her eyes and she squeezed them shut.
Let’s just hope I never have to go through that again.