WindSeeker (30 page)

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Authors: Charlotte Boyett-Compo

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Fiction, #Adult, #General

BOOK: WindSeeker
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Conar’s feet, but didn’t touch him.

The hair on Belvoir’s head stood up. "It’s afraid of you, brat." His face beamed with certainty. "The

gods-be-damned thing is afraid of you."

Conar could see the uncertainty in the creature’s beady red eyes as It glared at him. He took a step

forward and the reptile pulled back Its neck.

"Belvoir’s right. The beast
is
afraid of you!" Hern shouted.

Conar looked back at Hern and nodded. Raphian, the Destroyer of Souls, was backing off. The sure

knowledge that he could wield such restraint over the demon filled the prince with an immense sense of

energy. He looked at his hands, amazed to see squiggles of blue lightning playing along the fingertips. His

entire body tingled with it. Coursed with it. Invested with it. This new potency filled him with confidence.

"
You are no match for me, McGregor!
" the demon hissed, but with a level of fear.

Conar began to realize what was happening. It was the beginning of the power the Domination had

invested in him at his ordination. He didn’t question it. He didn’t care to know how he had acquired it,

how it had come full-blown, at last. All he knew was that he had the ability to defeat the demon, to save

his men, and he had every intention of using that power to do so.

"Back off!" he bellowed, taking a step closer to the vile thing. He wasn’t at all surprised when the haze

retreated.

"
You are no threat to me
!" Raphian howled.

Conar smiled. It was a smile as evil as the grinning leer of the serpent-god. "You gave me the power to

be a threat to You, Raphian."

While it was true that the Domination had instilled in him the power to make war on the demon-god, it

had not supplied him with the power he was currently utilizing. None save Kaileel Tohre realized the

immense untapped reserve already inside the young man even before they gave him what power they

had. They had not known that there was power, untarnished by evil, not as yet refined, still undisciplined,

never hinted at, but immense and limitless, within the young man at his conception. It was that power

which kept Raphian at bay.

"
You are a fool, Conar McGregor
!" Raphian growled, his putrid breath washing over Conar.

"And
you
are weak!"

Volatile fury blasted over the men as the demon reared high Its triangular head. Its slathering, gaping

mouth opened wide as though about to strike. Thousands of sharp, yellow teeth lined the mouth;

blood-red eyes narrowed into oblongs of evil. The forked tongue shot toward Conar, the cleaving going

to either side of him, but never coming into contact with the prince’s flesh, for there was now an invisible

shield protecting him.

Conar’s laughter echoed on the icy wind. He stood his ground, never moving. With a purpose that flared

his pupils wide, he fixed his gaze on the maw of the serpent-god, on the whipping tongue as it waved

about his face. He could hear venom dripping on the ground, bubbling, hissing where it fell. He

laughed."You can’t touch me, can you?"

"
I will take your men instead!
"

Conar shook his head. He stood between It and his men. He knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that

as long as he was in the forefront, the demon was powerless to harm them.

"
I will make you watch them die in agony, Conar McGregor
!"

Conar’s lips began to move with incantations he didn’t realize he knew. He had no idea what they

meant, from where they had suddenly sprung. His breathing grew deep and slow, and his face filled with

an unholy light.

Belvoir took a few steps toward Conar. The prince spun around and fixed the man with a furious glare,

pointing a rigid finger at the Master-at-Arms. "Stay where you are!"

"You heard him!" Hern bellowed and dragged Belvoir back. "Let him handle it." The burly warrior’s face

was filled with overwhelming admiration for the man he thought of as his son. It was something no man

had ever seen on Hern Arbra’s weathered features before that day. Nor would they see it again for any

living being other than Conar McGregor.

"
I will slay you, McGregor
!" Raphian screamed with fury.

"Then do it." Conar’s voice was a soft, caressing whisper, seductive, challenging. There was humor on

his lips. "You wanted me, Raphian. What are you waiting for? Here I am!"

"
I will take everything away from you!Your woman. Your children. Your friends. And when I am

through with you, I will take your very soul
!"

Conar’s hand shot out. In a jagged spear, lightning flew toward the center of the haze. The creature

screamed in agony, a cacophony of utter torment.

"You want a piece of me, Raphian?
Then, come and get it
!" Conar challenged, taking another step

toward the demon.

A furious screech of frustration rent the frigid air. The mountain trembled. Rocks slid down the pathway,

cascading over the rockface and into the precipice to land with distant crashes in the valley below. The

sound reverberated through the mountains and over the valley and into the suddenly boiling, heaving sea

beyond Boreas Keep. It hung suspended in the air like a thundercloud and the haze around the demon

turned from red to the sickeningly, eye-hurting shade of green it had been upon Its arrival.

"Come and take me, Raphian! You wanted me so badly! Come and try to take me now!"

Raphian’s leering face bucked in anger, the eel-like neck twisting and snapping as It bobbed over the

men. Venom gushed from the great maw. Where the venom landed, fires started and the earth gave way

in large chunks.

"
I will punish you, Conar McGregor! I will give you grief such as you can not imagine! You will

die in agony, Conar McGregor
!" The prince’s name echoed off the mountains, shooting across the

skies with thunderous discord.

"Go to hell!" Conar screamed defiantly. He flung his arms wide. "Go back to the abyss from which you

sprang!" Another bolt of lightning zinged from his fingertips. The creature howled in protest. "I command

you to leave!"

Sentian Heil, hurting so badly from the lash across his chest, could barely see straight and yelped with

sheer terror as the creature reared over them, surged forward as though to snap them up, and then

vanished as though It had never been there. "God!" Sentian breathed, feeling the wet stain of urine

flowing down the seat of his pants.

Conar stood perfectly still, his heart thundering. He felt Belvoir’s hand on his shoulder and he turned, the

smile of victory frozen on his face. He glanced at Hern, the smile growing wider. He winked, and then his

eyes rolled up in his head as he pitched forward into Belvoir’s arms.

Hern chuckled. "Welcome home, brat."

* * *

"He’s home!" Wyn yelled as the top of his lungs. His skinny legs pumped furiously beneath his tunic as

he ran from room to room in search of Liza. His blond hair tumbled wildly about his head. His blue eyes,

so like his father’s, shone with an inner light that seemed to have a life of their own. "Liza!" His plaintive

cry, rising on the last syllable in childlike petulance, rang out through the marble halls and echoed back.

"Papa’s home!"

Liza smiled. Her husband’s child from a brief encounter with a serving wench came bolting though the

solarium door. "Be careful, Wyn!" she cautioned when the child nearly fell as he scurried to her side.

"He’s home, Liza!" Wyn cried, grabbing her hand. "Come on! He’s home!"

Liza’s heart beat so fast she could barely breathe. They’d had no word of him in more than six weeks;

she’d had no news from Belvoir, Hern, or Sentian in more than five days. Her telepathic probes had

garnered little more than a slight shadow of movement and her fears had grown steadily over the last two

days since her visit to Tohre.

Running as fast as they could, they reached the main doors and skidded to a stop at the sight of four

horses tethered to the front hitching rail. Although Seayearner was one of the horses, there were no riders

in sight.

"Where?" Liza asked breathlessly, turning to her stepson.

"Back inside!" The boy pulled her into the main hall.

They were about to start searching the lower rooms, when a soft voice called to them in greeting.

Together, they turned.

Conar stood in the doorway of his father’s library. Bright sunlight cast from the room haloed his blond

hair. Although he had lost quite a bit of weight and his face was stubbled with beard and shadowed with

dark circles, there was a warm smile of love on his face as his son bounded into his arms, nearly

knocking man and boy to the floor.

"Papa, I missed you!" Wyn cried and tightly wrapped his thin arms around his father’s neck, his legs

around Conar’s waist. He buried his face against his father’s shoulder. "I really missed you."

Conar fiercely hugged the boy, closing his eyes to the sweetness of his child’s body. "And I missed you,"

he whispered into the boy’s thick hair and kissed the flaxen curls.

"Everybody was worried about you, Papa," Wyn scolded, drawing away a little so he could see his

father’s face. "Are you all right? You look tired."

Conar looked into his wife’s tearful face. He tried to smile, but his lips quivered. He looked back at

Wyn. "I’m fine, now, Wyn."

Wyn glanced behind him. A knowing grin, too old for his years, lit his sun-freckled face. He whispered

in Conar’s ear. "I bet you want to be alone with Liza for awhile, huh, Papa?"

Conar blushed. "Aye, Wyn, that I would."

The boy laughed and his legs unwound themselves from his father’s waist. He slid down Conar’s tall

frame and clapped his hands in delight. "I’m gonna tell Rory and the others that you’re home!" His merry

laughter floated back to them as he ran in search of his siblings.

All Liza wanted to do was look at him, at his precious face, his beloved body. She couldn’t have taken a

step on her own if she had tried. Tears eased down her cheeks. She put up a trembling hand to wipe at

the telltale moisture.

He walked to her, stopping only a few inches from her. "Hello, my lady."

Her chin quivered. "I am happy to see you, Milord…" Her voice broke with emotion. She tucked her

chin against her chest, suddenly very, very shy in front of this man who was her husband. Her lover. Her

heart.

A faint smile touched his full lips. "Look at me, Sweeting." When she glanced up at him, he tilted his head

to one side and studied her lovely face. "You are well, Milady?"

"I am now."

"Unharmed?"

She could only nod.

He opened his arms. She stepped gently into them, laying her head on his chest as his arms closed

tenderly around her. She slipped her arms around his too-lean waist and let out a tremulous sigh of relief.

"I have missed you so," he breathed against her hair, his voice filled with longing. He put his index finger

under her chin and lifted her face to his. He lowered his head, and tenderly placed his lips against Liza’s.

It was, by far, the most chaste kiss he had ever bestowed upon her, but at the touch of her husband’s

mouth on her own, a flare of red-hot passion ran though her, and she felt as though her knees would

buckle. She groaned deep in her throat and pressed herself closer to him. She felt his body respond. His

hands went under her legs, his arm behind her back as he lifted her and cradled her high against him. She

nodded at his silent question, unable to speak past the lump in her throat.

Though his own legs were weak, not so much from passion, but from the abuse he had suffered, he

managed to carry her up the stairs. He didn’t see others watching him. It wouldn’t have mattered if he

had. His full attention was on the woman in his arms. A woman he had been willing to forfeit his soul to

keep.

* * *

She awoke with a start and looked to his side of the bed. Her eyes met the steady, unwavering gaze of

her husband. The quick smile of happiness vanished from her lips before she could speak, for there was

neither life nor warmth in the look he gave her. He lay there, his head propped on his fist, and didn’t

speak. The emptiness in his gaze unnerved her. Unable to bear the silence any longer, Liza caressed his

cheek. "What’s wrong, my love?"

A fleeting smile passed over his lips. "I was watching you sleep. You looked so innocent." Something

dark flared in the deeper striations of his irises, some spark that turned his mouth bitter, his gaze bleak.

Liza sat up in the bed, her heart lurching with concern. "I know what you did for me."

His face filled with shame. "And you could offer yourself to me? Could make love, knowing how

befouled I had become?"

"You are my husband; I love you. What you did, you did for me. For us, so we could be together." She

reached out for him again, but he turned on his side away from her.

"Not now, Liza."

"Conar?" She kissed his cheek, saw he was crying. "Beloved, don’t."

"I had no right to lay with you last night. I am unclean, Liza." His voice broke. "I should have waited until

this evil had been purged from me. I may well have contaminated you."

She pulled him against her, cradled his shaking body as he sobbed. "It will be all right, Milord. You’ll

see. Now that we are together, everything will be all right. I will never let anything hurt you again."

He turned so that he was in her arms and buried his wet face against her soft bosom. Clutching her to

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