Isadora (Masters Among Monsters Book 2) (15 page)

He too had heard that this was an abysmal death. There was no way he would show his fear to this man though. Instead, he turned his head so they were eye to eye and said, “It will be no more unpleasant than your death when it comes. Of this I am sure.”

The prince gave a warped chuckle. “Unless you know something I do not, my death is not something you shall ever know of.”

“No. But living your life, as the liar you are, is much like living in hell already, is it not? Tell me. Do you threaten the boys’ lives before you fuck them, or do you do it when they are bent over the foot of your bed with no other choice but to submit?”

Prince Alexios drew his sword and pointed the tip up under his chin.
 

Diomêdês gave a savage smile and dared, “Go on, do it.”

The prince snarled at him and used his sword to slice apart his clothing, the material falling apart to reveal his naked body. Although lean, his muscles were honed from years of manual labor, and even though the prince despised him, his eyes hungrily moved over his body before they shifted to the man holding the ropes around his wrists.
 

“When he is bound to the boat, I want the center of the second cut above his groin. Make sure his cock is well coated. I believe, if that is chewed off first, it would be a fitting punishment indeed.”

Diomêdês was hauled towards the first boat by his tethered arms before he could respond. He took a shuddering breath, knowing that this was his end, and gazed out across the stretch of water. How could something so calm and still turn into the very bowels of hell overnight? Within only hours, he would find out.

His clothes were pulled from his shoulders, and he was bent at the waist. Two men poured the honey over his back and buttocks and then the front. Then they led him to the boat, tied him down, and coated his cock before tipping the milk over him. He had to stop himself from gagging as the sound of an axe splitting apart wood could be heard in the distance—the second boat being modified.
 

The crowd was eerily quiet. The only noise was the whack, whack, whack of the axe, and then six men were hoisting the second boat over him. As it came down in place, Diomêdês likened it to a coffin—which, in a sense, it was.

As he lay there stripped, bound, and doused, insects landed upon him and then struggled to get free of the sticky concoction that had drawn them in the first place. The boat was pushed down to the edge of the lake, and just before he was shoved into his watery grave, the prince came over and stood by his head.
 

He leaned down until their noses met and softly whispered, “Perhaps, as you gaze upon the stars this eve, you will realize how wrong it is to watch over someone else. How sinful it is to spy upon one’s most private affairs. Maybe the bugs will even teach you a lesson and eat your eyes out first.”

A wasp stung Diomêdês upon his thigh, and he flinched. Then he gnashed his teeth together and promised, “It may not be in this life, but I vow that, one day, I will find you again, and I will make you pay for this.”

As the prince’s teeth appeared in a malicious smile, several men shoved the boat so it drifted out into the middle of the silent and still waters, where Diomêdês waited for death to take a bite out of him.

ISADORA WOKE TO the familiar shout of suffering that tore from her Ancient, but when she reached for where he usually lay, he was not there. She sat up in the wide, empty bed and her blood rushed around her head as her panic rose.
 

Where is he?

Her limbs were still heavy, as though laden with lead as she shifted to place her feet on the cool hardwood. The tormented sound filled the room a second time, and she pushed aside the heavy blanket and frantically searched for the male it had come from.
 

She spotted his long frame stretched out where he lay sleeping on the chaise lounge over by the far wall. His fists were clenched on either side of him, and his eyes were squeezed shut as if warding off the pain.

She knew what he was dreaming without delving into his mind. It was the recurring horrors of his past. The torturous punishment bestowed upon him by an angry man who’d been too scared to admit his feelings for men, like the beautiful one spread out in front of her. Instead, he’d condemned him to death.
 

Death hadn’t found Diomêdês that night, however. Vasilios had, and he’d taken him back to Ambrogio, where he had become the second of their kind to ever be turned. The second most powerful and her Ancient. One who had never really been freed from a nightmare he bore scars to. One who was permanently damaged despite eternal life.

She ran to his side and fell to her knees, lightly placing her palm on his thigh as to not startle him. Only she and Vasilios knew of his past, a hellish, private torment to bear. One that the blood of even Ambrogio had been too late to heal.

“Diomêdês,” she whispered.
 

He did not stir.
 

“Diomêdês,” she tried again.
 

When still he didn’t wake, she gave his leg a slight pinch. His hand lashed out from where it rested on his chest, and his fingers wrapped firmly around her wrist. As his lids opened and his inky eyes found hers, they narrowed. As the fury in them dissipated, his grip loosened and his expression softened.

“Isa?”

“Yes, ’tis I. You were dreaming again.”

He released his hold of her arm to bring his fingers up to her face. With the utmost care, he cradled her cheek and gave a short nod. “Yes. That I was. Thank you for waking me.”

She gave a weak smile, wishing there were more she could do to ease his burden. But, as his fingers traced the line of her jaw to her chin, she knew there wasn’t. She rose to her feet and crawled into his lap. He drew her close, taking from her the comfort she offered in their most private hours.

Then she asked, “What made you think of it on this night? Is it because I was taken?”

His lips touched her forehead, and she closed her eyes at the affectionate gesture.
 

“I think a little of that,” he said, “and I also spoke with Eton earlier while you were sleeping. Thanos has awoken, and he is none too happy about what has become of him.”

Isadora put her hands to Diomêdês’s chest and shifted to stare into his face. “Is it really so bad?”

The wince that creased his eyes and scrunched his nose was as good as a yes.

“Poor Thanos.”

“Yes. He will be maimed for the rest of his existence. And, since he understands that is infinite, he is coming to terms with walking the Earth as, well...a monster, I guess you could say.”

Isadora frowned, wondering how much damaged Elias had inflicted on her cousin. “I would think, as long as he is alive, that should ease some of the suffering eventually.”

Diomêdês shrugged. “The thought of eternal life is daunting enough when you are whole and able to seek companionship. The thought of eternal life on your own is much less satisfying. I know this to be a fact, my Isadora. I was in a similar position, as you recall.”

“Yes. That may be. But you found someone, did you not? I am sure he will too. Plus, he has Eton.”

He gave her a smile, and the beauty of it warmed her entire being. He really was the most kindhearted male she knew.
 

“
Ahh
my Isa. Their bond is quite unique. But you are right. I did find someone. It took me many years, and I never could have dreamed one such as you. But I found you.”

She raised her head and placed her lips to his cheek. Then she said ever so softly, “You bring me more joy in these precious moments than any man or woman could hope to in our bed.”

Their relationship was a most unusual one. Isadora was aware of that. But it suited them. It fulfilled them both on the different levels they needed, and she wouldn’t have changed it for anything in the world.

“Not even him?”

She didn’t have to ask him whom he meant, and as she thought of Elias’s face, she paused.

“Ahh…I see that perhaps he is the exception.”

She didn’t want to lie to Diomêdês, so she was, as always, honest to the core. “I thought he may have been, and I was going to bring him to you. But that was a long time ago. Long before all of this.”

Diomêdês didn’t move, didn’t even flinch. All he asked was, “And now?”

Her fingers twisted into his clothing as she vowed, “Now, he must die.”

WHEN ALASDAIR ARRIVED in Vasilios’s bedchambers, Leo was standing opposite his sire with a set of golden handcuffs secured to his wrists. Surprisingly, both males were still fully clothed, but the sexual tension in the room was practically vibrating. Leo’s shoulders were set as he stood toe-to-toe with the Ancient, and Vasilios’s eyes were lit with lust and arousal.
 

His sire sensed him and shifted his gaze over Leo’s shoulder. “Finally, you are here. Now we can begin.”

Leo looked back at him, and his grey eyes raked over his body. Alasdair briefly wondered if their yielding had informed Vasilios of his “wine and dine” rule yet or if that only applied to him. He ran his tongue along his lower lip as he strolled towards them, enjoying the thought of changing Leo’s mind about his terms.

“We were just chatting while you were securing the others,” Vasilios said.

When Alasdair stopped beside the two of them he looked from one to the other. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Weren’t we, Leonidas?”

Leo nodded as if he were in a trance.

Alasdair’s lips tipped at the sides in a knowing smirk. “Huh. And will you always lie on his behalf, then,
file mou
?”

Vasilios chuckled. It was a rich, sensual sound that never failed to ignite his carnal side.

“I…ahh…ah—”

Alasdair reached for the back of Leo’s neck and tugged him his way. He pressed his lips to the confused ones that were still stammering around for a good excuse, and then he swiped his tongue over Leo’s mouth before slipping inside for a taste.
 

Leo groaned and took hold of his shirt as he fully turned and gave as good as he was being given. He rose up on his toes and put his entire body behind the fervent kiss, and the delicious sound that came out of him made Alasdair want to strip him naked. Instead, he lifted his head and slid his eyes to Vasilios. And what they’d done had his sire’s fangs elongated and a wicked grin across his lips.
 

“I can taste him on you,
file mou
. I hardly think talking is all that took place while I was gone.”
 

When he returned his attention to Leo, whose lips were now slick from his own, Alasdair took immense pleasure at the way he tried to deny any wrongdoing just in case he was offended. How very mistaken he was.

“Well, he, ahh… I mean…”

As Leo floundered with an answer, Vasilios laughed again.
 

“I’m so glad this is amusing for you,” Leo said, placing his hands low on his hips as he glared over his shoulder.
 

“Oh, but it is. You’re so worried about what he is thinking when you could just look and see,
agóri
.”

Alasdair’s own lips twitched at the observation. It would take their yielding some time to learn what he could and could not do. With a huff of annoyance, Leo rounded back on him, and his eyes were alight with irritation
and
desire.
 

In an instant, Alasdair felt his unskilled probing and let him inside to see what his thought had been. When the image in his mind was relayed to Leo, it became clear he was not upset at all by the prospect of him and his sire kissing, but the fact that he’d missed it.
 

A smug curve tilted Leo’s lips and he took a step back from him and winked. He then turned to boldly take hold of Vasilios’s jacket.
 

“How about you prove you aren’t always such a selfish asshole.”

Alasdair’s eyes widened. No one spoke to Vasilios that way—not even him. So, when Vasilios’s eyes gleamed at the taunt, he realized there was more to that statement than what was being said.