Captive of Darkness (Heart of Darkness Book 1) Page 6

  I stood up.

  “Where are you going?” His tone was gruff, annoyed.

  “I’m going to find Finn.”

  “Then you’ll die,” he said matter-of-factly.

  I glanced over my shoulder. “But I’ll die fighting for something I believe in.”

  I headed for the exit, hoping and praying that my instinct about him was right, that he’d—

  “Stop.” His tone was a sharp command halting me in my tracks and sending my pulse fluttering in anticipation. “Idiotic, foolish human.”

  I turned slowly to face him. “Does that mean you’ll take me?”

  He lay back down and threw his arm over his eyes. “Yes, yes, I’ll take you. Now get some rest before you collapse. Your knees are trembling with exhaustion.”

  “But, we have to catch up to them and—”

  “I know several shortcuts. We’ll catch up to them. But not if you’re too exhausted to travel. We leave once we’ve rested. Now come lie down and sleep.”

  Sleep … Next to him?

  “Wynter.”

  My name on his lips sent a shudder down my spine.

  “I promise not to eat you.”

  Was he teasing me? It didn’t matter, because my body ached and my legs felt like noodles. I stumbled across the floor and lowered myself onto the furs beside him, my back to him. The furs beneath me were soft and fragrant with his scent—earth and life and—oh, God—I was so tired. He shifted behind me and then his arm draped over my waist. I tensed, holding my breath.

  “Relax, the proximity will mark you with my scent for the journey.”

  He tugged me against his chest, the backs of my thighs pressed against the front of his, and his nose brushed the curve of my neck. I’d never been held like this. Never had the heat of someone’s breath on my skin like this.

  “Sleep.” His lips brushed the skin beneath my ear, and his tongue flicked out to taste me, sending a tremor through me. “Sleep.”

  Veles was gone when I awoke, and the stab of panic that shot through me at his absence turned my stomach. Had he left me? Oh, God. Was I alone? For a moment, I was paralyzed by fear and uncertainty. What was I doing? What in the world was I doing? This place was insanity come to life. A world of monsters that couldn’t possibly exist. It was a nightmare … a nightmare like the ones that came to me in dreams. Like the ones that spilled from my brush. A nightmare like the ones that plagued the townsfolk of Justice Falls.

  What if this wasn’t real? Or worse, what if it was real, but my mind, traumatized by it all, had conjured Veles to ground me. The benevolent monster who’d save me, who’d protect me. It sounded like a fairytale. One of Finn’s stories.

  I rubbed at my eyes with the heels of my hand. The rug with the face, the skulls and bones, the furs that smelled of moss and earth and him … No, he had to be real.

  A rustling pulled my attention to the doorway, to the slivers of moonlight visible through the barrier of black flora covering it. And then the flora was pushed aside and Veles entered. He was wearing a leather vest and trousers, but his feet were bare.

  The breath I’d been holding rushed out of my lungs. “You’re here.”

  “Oh, did you think I’d left you?” His lips quirked in a mocking smile.

  I tucked my legs under me. “No. I just …”

  He was studying me with those unfathomable eyes of his. “Or did you think I was a figment of your imagination?” The humor was gone now.

  I cleared my throat and dropped my gaze to his hands. To what he was carrying—something wet and dripping. Oh, God. Was that a dead animal?

  He threw it onto the floor and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, or maybe you’re a figment of mine, before tearing into the dead animal with his talons. Blood spattered his clothes and his face and then he was done.

  He held out a strip of meat. “Eat.”

  Bile climbed up my throat. “It’s raw.”

  He frowned at me as if I was a moron. “Yes.”

  “I can’t eat raw meat.”

  “Why not?”

  Oh, crud, it reeked. “Aside from the fact that it looks and smells disgusting? Because I’m human, and it will make me sick.”

  He stared at the meat for a long beat, dropped it onto the neatly stripped pile, and then stormed out of the tree. Long minutes passed before he returned with something cupped in his hand. He held out one of the black, red-centered blooms I’d seen in the clearing.

  “A flower.” A flower stained with the blood from the dead animal. I offered him a tentative smile. “Um, thank you?” Was I supposed to wear it? Was this some kind of apology gift?

  His gaze tracked my features and then he snorted in annoyance. “Oh, for goodness’ sake, it’s edible. It will sustain you. There are Forlorn in Nawia that live off the blooms. Forlorn to whom meat is poison because they are the meat. You want to find your brother, then you need to keep up your strength.”

  He was right. My backpack had been lost in the skirmish in the forest. Ignoring the blood and the fact that his hands were coated with it, I scooped the flower from his palm, plucked off a petal, and popped it in my mouth. It was sweet and soft and delicious, even with the blood tainting it. My stomach growled, and the flower was gone much too soon.

  “Good,” he said.

  He gathered the meat and wrapped it in a large strip of leather, tied it off, and then tucked it into his vest. Probably a hidden pocket? He then walked over to the pile of bones and began rummaging through them.

  “Take this.” He slid a bone across the floor. Smooth and slightly bulbous at one end, and jagged and sharp at the other where it had been snapped off. “A weapon. For defense.”

  “I have my chain.”

  “The metal won’t work on the Forlorn. Not unless it’s pure iron.”

  “It worked on the Silver Riders.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know about that, but”—he made a grab for me, curling a fist around my wrist, around the chains wrapped around it—“this won’t hurt us.”

  Oh, crud. I unwound the chain and picked up the bone knife.

  “You’ll need this too.” He threw something at me.

  A leather vest like the one he was wearing. “You want me to wear this?”

  “It’s warm and it doesn’t smell of human. You can keep your britches on.”

  Britches? Who called trousers britches? Veles did, apparently. “How come you weren’t … dressed last time I saw you?”

  He glanced down at his leather, obviously handmade clothes. “Hunting is messy and bloody, but now that we have to travel, this outfit works best.” He walked toward the entrance. “Get dressed and come out. It’s time to go.”

  I joined him outside a few minutes later. “Thank you for doing this, by the way.”

  A frown flitted across his face, and his hand went to his chest.

  “Are you all right?”

  He arched a brow and then set off. “Keep up. I won’t be carrying you this time.”

  I had to jog to stay close to him as he wove through the trees in a loping stride. He was huge, majestic and powerful, a monster with horns that glinted in the moonlight. Thank goodness he was on my side. For now.

  I caught up to him, working hard to regulate my breathing. “How long till dawn?”

  “Forever.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Don’t be. We can’t all have the sun.” His tone was flippant and dismissive.

  He’d mentioned dreaming of the sun. Had he meant … “There’s no daytime here, is there?”

  “Nawia knows only the moon.”

  He picked up his pace, forcing me to practically run to keep up.

  “We’ll have to cut across the flatlands to intercept the Silver Riders in the marsh.”

  Was that a hint of uncertainty in his voice? “You don’t sound too pleased about cutting through these flatlands.”

  “Your perceptual skills are astounding.”

  “There’s no need for sarcasm.”r />
  “No? But there is every need for speed.” He came to a halt, arm out to stall me.

  I doubled over, clutching my abdomen to catch my breath. “What?”

  “Hush.” He cocked his head, listening.

  I straightened and bit back a gasp at the sight up ahead. We were at the edge of the forest and the beginning of the flatlands—rolling plains bathed in silver stretched out as far as the eye could see.

  “On the count of three, we run,” Veles said.

  “Run?” I massaged the stitch in my side.

  He nodded slowly. “Do you see the mounds out there?”

  I took several steps to come abreast of him and peered out of the tree line. The land that had looked so flat and even at first glance was actually dotted with raised mounds of greenery.

  “I see them.”

  “Knocker mounds. You get too close, you linger, and you’re dead. Keep up, stay right behind me, and run exactly where I run.”

  Oh, God. “What are these Knockers?”

  He looked down at me, his ember eyes glowing like twin flames. “Let’s hope you never have to find out.”

  I grabbed his arm as he took a step toward the clearing. “Veles. I don’t … I don’t know if I’m fast enough?”

  He graced me with a slow blink. “You stick to the path I run, and you won’t have to be. There are safe spots and danger spots. Knockers leave lines – you won’t see them with your human eyes, but I will. Leap when I leap, run where I run.”

  Oh, God. I nodded. “All right. Let’s do this.”

  Veles broke into the clearing in a jog, and I followed, running full pelt to keep up. He leapt and zigzagged and swerved between the mounds, seeing something that I couldn’t. I tracked his every move, mimicking it as best I could, sticking to the path he was forging. Thin, spindly trees appeared in the distance.

  “Almost there,” Veles called out. “Keep going.”

  My legs had a mind of their own, pumping along with my arms, wind rushing through my hair. For a moment there was nothing but liberation. But then Veles faltered and spat out a string of curses. He spun to face me, eyes wide, arms going up in warning, and then something snagged my pack and the ground was rushing away from me. My scream lodged in my throat, but Veles’s cry was enough for the two of us.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  I twisted like a worm on a hook and caught a glimpse of my attacker—hairy legs, too many legs, dripping venom, and bulbous eyes. My scream finally erupted from my throat, and then I was being yanked backward, toward the horrific mandibles of the enormous spider monster.

  A shrill whistle pierced the air, followed by another, and then I was being shaken like a rag doll and barely registered the third whistle before I was hurtling back toward the ground.

  Pain lanced through my shoulder, tears blurred my vision, and then I was being swept up into Veles’s arms and we were flying across the ground. Leaping. And weaving.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  They were behind us, in pursuit.

  Veles cursed again and again and the things following us screeched as if in agony. He kept up his litany of colorful cussing, and then we were whipping past the tall, slender tree trunks and skidding to a stop. He turned to face the way we’d come, and my chest squeezed in horror at the sight we’d left behind.

  Eight foot, eight-legged beasts with hungry humanoid mouths and rolling eyes slammed their legs on the ground in agitation. They skittered back and forth but they didn’t come into the tree line.

  I clung to Veles, breathing in his scent to ward off the terror, heart pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it. He gathered me closer, turned away from the monsters, and strode further into the trees.

  We didn’t speak for long minutes, and I kept my arms wrapped around his neck and my face pressed to the crook of his shoulder. It was insanity that this felt safe, that he made me feel safe.

  He came to a standstill. “You’ll need to walk now. The ground is getting wet and marshy, and our combined weight will make it harder to navigate.”

  I nodded, my forehead brushing his neck. His grip tightened around me, and then he slowly lowered me to the ground, allowing my body to slide down his until my boot met the earth with a soft sucking sound.

  I looked up into his moon-shadowed face. “What were those things?”

  “No longer what they used to be. I think … I think there was a time they were helpers of the weak and helpless. All I know is that cursing and whistling brings them pain.”

  And it had saved me. “Thank you for saving my life.”

  I was expecting a sarcastic reply, or a flippant retort, or maybe something about how he still might eat me, but instead he surprised me by reaching up and brushing his thumb across my cheekbone.

  “You’re welcome.” His tone was low and gruff.

  And then he was striding ahead of me, his feet squelching through the boggy ground.

  Finn. I’m coming.

  Chapter Nine

  Veles

  It reeks of death, blood, and humans. The tang of metal in the air tells me that the riders were here not too long ago. The fresh pools of blood mingling in the mud and soaking into the hungry bog tell me that humans have been lost today. Taken. They have been taken by Black Annis, the silver witch, the hag with a love for meat and bones and broth and stew. Her seductive influence still hangs in the air. It probes at my mind, pulling forth hidden desires.

  Wynter whimpers.

  “We go on.” I skirt around the blood, biting back the hunger that gnaws at my belly, staunching the urge to lie down and lap at the ground, at the sweet blood that once coursed through throbbing veins.

  “They killed them,” Wynter says softly.

  “No. Black Annis did that, and she may still be close by. We must keep moving.”

  “What is she? Who is she?”

  “A witch, a hag. A blessing, a curse. Some call her intentionally to barter, to trade; they offer blood to the earth, and she comes and she takes, she always takes.”

  I resist the urge to take her hand, her small, soft, pliant hand, because with the blood strong on the air, and hunger clawing at my belly, I’m afraid I’ll lose control. That I might devour her one way or another. But it is she that grasps my arm, pressing herself against it. Close, she is too close, and Annis’s influence is tearing down my defenses. Her control is an infection that leaves behind a residue that only she can extract.

  I shove Wynter away, calling on anger to keep me strong. “Whimpering human, you wanted this, now see, see what lies on the journey. Blood and death and grief. The one you seek could be right here, lying among the entrails over there. Or maybe this is his blood seeping into the earth under my feet.” Cruel words meant to shock and shatter.

  She takes a stunned step away from me.

  No. Come here.

  A gust of air. A whiff of blood.

  My stomach cramps as the coppery tang hits the back of my throat. Saliva pools in my mouth, and my balls tighten. I tear into the leather pouch and drag several slices of meat from the bundle, shoving them into my mouth and chewing with gusto. They take the edge off a little.

  Just eat her.

  The voice is a whisper.

  Fuck her and then eat what remains.

  I shove more meat into my mouth, grab her arm, and drag her around the mound and through the slender trees. My primary desire is something else, something I don’t understand, and it urges me to protect the fragile butterfly. It fights my base desire to inflict pain.

  She yelps.

  I am holding her too tight, talons scraping and cutting her tender flesh. Sweet hell. That scent, that aroma. The beast rises, trying to take control, and pain rips through my jaw as my canines elongate. A taste. Only a taste will satisfy him.

  I swing her around to face me and hold up her arms. Her eyes go wide, sending a thrill through the beast. Her mouth is a delicate ‘o.’

  “Veles …” My name on her lips makes me painfully hard.


  I bring her wrist to my mouth and slowly lick the blood blooming there. Flavor explodes on my tongue, shooting down to my manhood, and then I have her up against the nearest tree, groin pressed to her groin, lips pressed to her throat, eager to bite and tear and suck.

  “Veles,” she moans, grabbing my shoulders, and the bloodlust morphs into something else entirely, into a primal lust, into the need to bury myself inside her.

  Take her.

  Do it.

  Not a beast, not a monster. No.

  I pull away, slow and deliberate, and look down into her flushed, heavy-lidded face. Her lips are parted on a sigh, her thick, dark lashes cast inky shadows on her alabaster cheeks. Those lips. Those rose-red lips. I lick them, a flick of my tongue across the seam. Sweet, so fucking sweet.

  Her fingers flex on my shoulders, but she doesn’t push me away. She doesn’t turn her face away.

  I could take her now, tear off her britches and take her up against the tree; her gasps and whimpers would echo in my ears as I thrust into her sweet, wet place. But I am not a monster. No.

  I release her and step away. “Pull yourself together. We have riders to track.”

  Chapter Ten

  We rushed through the trees, farther and farther away from Black Annis’s influence. Away from whatever enchantment she’d left on the air.

  Veles didn’t speak. He didn’t look my way. He didn’t stop. And despite the ache in my limbs, neither did I. This was punishment for the wicked, wanton thoughts his proximity had provoked. Penance for the desire that had pooled liquid hot in my belly when he’d pinned me to the tree, because in that moment, I would have let him have me. I would have opened for him, bucked under him. I would have tasted him with lips and tongue, uncaring for anyone or anything but the rasp of his cock deep inside me.