The phantom, p.25
The Phantom, page 25
He narrowed his eyes. “I’d give you those words, but there’s no time to talk. You made sure of that, didn’t you, Lyla?” Suddenly colder than ice, he clasped her waist and flashed her to the third-floor conference room, the table piled high with a plethora of dishes. From a succulent bird stuffed with a mix of fruit and nuts to creamy potatoes and buttered vegetables.
Roux released her and stepped back at the first opportunity.
The savory scents made her mouth water, but her stomach only roiled in protest. All her life, she’d been confident in her feelings and her decisions. Become General. Give up everything for Laban. Lay the world at her daughter’s feet. Kill the Astra. Now she knew nothing, and the uncertainty sucked.
Focus on the party. The welcome party as well as the other combatants were dressed to the nines, too, and already seated. All conversation ceased as the crowd noticed Roux and Blythe.
“Sit, sit, and we’ll get started,” Tonka said, motioning to the empty chair at the head of the table.
Thankfully—or not so thankfully?—they hadn’t attempted to put Blythe at the other end. Nope, they’d saved her the spot next to Roux’s. He escorted her over and even held out the seat for her.
She pasted a smile on her face. Brittle? Probably. But it was the best she could do.
Roux stared straight ahead...and anger began to overtake her uncertainty. She scanned the room’s occupants, skipping over everyone but Carrigan and Lucca. They peered at her with expectation and maybe concern.
What? she mouthed.
Arena, Lucca mouthed back. Midnight.
Should she attend a meeting with possible foes? Yes, she decided only a moment later. She needed to know why they’d helped her. Or finally kill them. The real question was: Should she tell Roux about the meetup or keep quiet? In his weird, awful mood, he might protest. But could she sneak away without detection?
She chanced a glance at him. His eyes were now fully red.
Uh. No. There’d be no sneaking away. She’d just have to tell him and deal with the fallout.
She nodded at the harpy and the Phoenix.
“Now that our honored guest is here.” An Amazon motioned to the food. “For our harpies, every dish is mine, so every bite you take is stolen. For our vampires, there’s a nice blood pudding no one else will want. For Astras with a dessert fetish, our team of chefs made lemon blueberry cake since they didn’t have the ingredients for chocolate. Seems our farmers are slower than usual since most of them are dead and all. I suggest everyone eat up. For many of you, this will be a last meal.”
Roux had requested a chocolate dessert? For her? How...how sweet. So why treat her as an inconvenience? Had she angered him in some way? But how? She hadn’t removed any of his organs in days. Not a single one.
“You mentioned round nine.” He moved his gaze from one female to the other, avoiding only Blythe. “Explain.”
Oh, yeah. Anger. Lots and lots of anger. Seriously, what had changed between the request for dessert—which must have happened after the round, when he’d spoken with Tonka—and the here and now?
“Yep, I sure did mention round nine, didn’t I? One sec, though.” Tonka mimicked the others, diving for the food, dumping spoonfuls of everything onto her plate. “A girl’s gotta eat, amirite?”
Screw Roux. Blythe wasn’t missing a meal because some guy had gotten his underwear in a twist about something he refused to share with her. Even if she deserved it! Half standing, she bent over the table and loaded up on chicken, greens, and honey-glazed carrots.
As she forked the first bite into her mouth, Roux latched onto her wrist and diverted her aim, claiming the bite for himself. He retained his hold on her until he swallowed. Then he stared at his empty hand as if trying to decide what to do with it.
“You may eat. There’s no poison,” he said, and nope, he didn’t glance at her. Or prolong contact. He lowered his arm.
Okay, so maybe she could be nicer to him? “How kind of you to check for me, Astra,” she said, and she meant it. Hoping to sooth him, she switched her fork to her other hand, then reached under the table to squeeze his knee. “Perhaps I’ll offer you a reward.”
As she slowly glided her nails up his thigh, a muscle jumped in his jaw again. Did he try to stop her? No. His breath hitched. Closer and closer she came to his zipper...
He stiffened and removed her hand at last.
“Or maybe I won’t,” she muttered, drawing back and spearing a carrot.
He scowled at the others. “Round nine. Tell me what I wish to know.”
“Oh. Right,” Tonka said, a pea falling out from the corner of her mouth. “Well, it’s like this. Tomorrow, each of the combatants will be given a series of safe words. Oh, why wait? They are stop, no, don’t, and please. After that, they’ll be randomly called to the arena one at a time...where they will undergo the same torture for the same amount of time. Whoever utters a safe word is out. If not, and they survive, they go on to the finals. Since you are the Astra’s torture master, you’ll be overseeing each session. If you take it easy on someone, she’ll be disqualified with this.”
The harpy lifted a glistening black dagger.
Blythe’s fork clattered to her plate. That dagger. Fashioned from trinite. The substance able to end her for good.
25
THE PAIN
Roux’s nerves were well past frayed now. A second trinite dagger was in play. Where the citizens of Ation had gotten it, he could guess. Right or wrong, he would be taking it after he dealt with the wraiths.
He escorted Blythe to their room as soon as the dinner concluded. “Stay here. I’ll return in the morning.” He offered no other information. Wasn’t sure he could speak much more without emptying the seething cauldron inside his head.
“Morning?” she demanded, spinning to face him. “You’re staying out all night?”
As if she cared! “I have things to do.”
“But...they have trinite.”
“And you are well able to protect yourself.” Truth.
“But—”
He flashed to Wraith Island, hating his task. Hating this realm. Himself. Her. As he’d vanished, hurt had flittered over her features.
His guts twisted. Just another lie. Anything to convince her greatest enemy of her affections. How better to lower his guard?
“You brought us a feast tonight,” Penelope said with a grin as soon as he entered the palace. “Whatever happened to incite this, keep thinking about it!”
He hated her, too.
Roux did everything in his power to blank his mind and mute his hatred. The wraiths glommed onto him anyway. Thankfully, he was only a little shaky when they finished.
Before his hostess could say anything else, he returned to the underground arena, where he intended to stay. During dinner, he’d observed Blythe’s quick, stealthy exchange with the Phoenix and harpy. He knew the trio planned to meet.
Only two hours until midnight. Enough time to regain his strength and think about tomorrow’s torture sessions.
As he drew the shadows around him, making his body blend in with the rocky walls of the cavern, he rolled through the facts. Ten females, Blythe included. What he did to one female, he must deliver to all. Though he was furious and, yes, okay, even destroyed by his gravita’s lies, he didn’t know if he could harm her. The thought alone caused sweat to bead on his brow and acid to fill his stomach.
At the same time, he must do what he could to knock out as much of her competition as possible.
He considered and discarded one idea after another. None of the combatants in the tournament would bow to mere threats. Mental torture rather than physical, perhaps? And if he broke Blythe’s mind?
Sexual torment could solve the problem and teach the harpy a lesson at the same time. He could force her to desire him. Fake it then, she-beast. Let her see and hear the enjoyment others derived from his touch, too.
And if she didn’t care?
He worked his jaw. He had to hurt her physically, didn’t he?
Carrigan and Lucca arrived sixteen minutes early, beating the harphantom to the secret meeting. The pair rounded a corner across from the arena and stopped near the royal portal, located directly beneath the palace. Close enough to Roux that he didn’t need to relocate. A blessing, considering he currently shook like, well, anyone who’d ever gone to war with the Astra.
Fitting, since he was at war with himself.
While the harpy evinced stress, pacing back and forth, the Phoenix remained still and calm. They’d washed the blood of today’s battle from their skin and changed into the traditional leather dresses worn by the females of Ation, but they now sported a whole lot of dirt. What had they been up to before coming here?
“What if she doesn’t believe us?” Lucca asked, pacing at a faster clip.
“Then she dies. It’s that simple.”
Roux tensed, the urge to strike now, now, now almost irresistible. Threat!
Wait. He sniffed the air. Did he detect the harphantom? The barest hint of honeysuckle and rose wafted to his nose. Oh, yes. She was nearby. Muscles hardened as he scanned the area. No other trace of her.
“If she dies,” the harpy said, flinching, “we’ll be stuck here.”
Carrigan shrugged. “We’re already stuck.”
“Yeah, but with her, we’ve got hope.”
“Okay, now I’m really curious why you wished to meet with me.” Blythe stepped from thin air, appearing close to the other women, but just out of striking distance.
At the sight of her, Roux’s central nervous system erupted in flames. His blood steamed in his veins, and his heart raced. She’d worn her hair free and loose, the sleek black mass framing her pale face, making her baby blues appear bigger and rounder than usual. The gown had been replaced by a short leather skirt and one of his shirts, tied at her waist, as if she’d ached to have something of his wrapped around her.
He almost reached for her. Then he remembered the firstone dagger. His hands curled into fists. Deep down, she wanted nothing to do with Laban’s killer. She had only pretended to desire Roux in order to distract and kill him. The shirt was just another prop to sell her lie.
Lucca scowled at her. “We saved your ungrateful hide from a swarm of decapitation bees and determined royals. Was spying seriously necessary?”
“Yes,” Blythe replied with a cold smile.
“She wasn’t spying,” Carrigan said with a smile of her own. “That’s done in secret. I knew the moment she arrived.”
The harphantom rolled her eyes. “Whatever you’ve got to tell yourself, hon.”
Roux was inclined to believe the Phoenix, who merely gave another shrug.
“So?” Blythe spread her arms. “Why am I here?”
“To bargain,” Lucca replied. “It may not seem like it now, what with the trinite dagger in play and all, but the former queen’s advisors made a deal with Erebus to ensure your victory in the tournament. As soon as you don the crown, the Dark One has vowed to open a doorway out of Ation for them. Which is true, I’m betting. He can open one, all right, but that doesn’t mean the group will be able to go through it.”
Fury sparked in Roux. Not because of the deal offered by Erebus. That was expected. Roux even knew why the god wished for Blythe to survive. Who else stood a chance of defeating a male known as Torture Master? None. But the fact that Erebus had interfered to keep Blythe alive meant the Blade of Destiny had predicted her death before the tournament’s end. So who was going to take her out? And how did Roux stop them?
Of course, there was another possibility. These females were lying, running a play of their own.
“Why are you telling me this?” Blythe demanded. “Why are you helping me again?”
She didn’t know the answers? Hmm. Was she not already working with the pair to betray him? Interesting. So why hadn’t she killed them yet? Simple curiosity? A sense of fair play for gifting her with the flower?
He pursed his lips. Did the reason really matter? She’d hidden the firstone dagger. That alone proved her guilt where Roux was concerned.
“I’m sure your Astra has mentioned my dealing with an oracle before I came to Ation,” Carrigan said. “I believe we’ve found a path out of the realm. But. It requires Roux’s aid, and he won’t be in the mood to give it without you. And not because of his Commander’s request. Don’t think I don’t see the stardust on your skin. Yeah, I know all about the warlords and their ways. After consulting with an oracle about my trip here, I made it my business to know. Though the stardust has faded, rather than brightened. Trouble in paradise?”
“Good to know I’m living in your brain rent-free,” Blythe snapped. “What is it you’d like me to do for you in exchange for a ticket off realm, anyway? Spell it out for me.”
“You will help Lucca survive alongside us. Then, and only then, will I show you the way out,” Carrigan said.
“Are you kidding?” Radiating frustration, the harpy spread her arms once again. “What you’re asking is impossible. The one survivor rule is etched in the Oath Stones. Trust me, I’ve experienced the compulsion that comes from making such a vow. There’s no circumventing it.”
“Maybe so, but if you want what we’re offering badly enough, you’ll figure something out.” The Phoenix hiked her thumb in the other harpy’s direction. “If she dies, I’ll be happy to stay here for eternity just to spite you.”
Lucca fluffed her hair. “I’m kind of important.”
“Talk to the Astra,” Carrigan suggested. She arched a dark brow. “Or not. If any Astra could be the first to ditch a fated mate, it’s the Crazed One.”
* * *
Blythe fumed and paced the bedroom all night, the Phoenix’s words replaying in her head on repeat. If any Astra could be the first to ditch a fated mate, it’s the Crazed One.
The Astra had marked her with stardust, then abandoned her as soon as trinite showed up? Okay, fine. His attitude had changed before the weapon’s arrival. But either way—the nerve of the man! Had he decided to ditch her for good?
It was possible. After all, he hadn’t drooled all over himself at the sight of her dinner party dress, as any smitten male would have done.
Had she lost her touch? One moment she’d been contemplating the pros and cons of making out with the too-sexy Astra, the next she’d wondered if he’d washed his hands of her for good. How she felt about the possibility? Besides awful. Big awful. Huge.
Which was foolish! Not getting physically involved right now—smart. Well, more physically involved. It saved Blythe from a boatload of guilt. Except, she still hungered for him. More than ever!
Why couldn’t they be lovers, at least while they were stuck in Ation? Maybe they would bang the stupid out of each other. No lust meant clear thoughts. Clear thoughts meant better decisions.
Excuses, excuses. Justifications and rationalizations never got anyone anywhere but trouble. Her current predicament was living proof of that.
When the sun rose, Blythe bit her tongue and tasted blood. Still no sign of Roux. He was really gonna do it. He was gonna send her into battle without a pep talk or anything. Motions jerky, she changed into a fighter’s uniform, loaded up with weapons and flashed to the underground arena.
“Sit, sit,” Tonka called from the dais. “We’ll be doing this one at a time in totally random order. Carrigan the Flesh Melter, you’re first. On deck is Justice the Brain Smasher, followed by Umber the Lady Baller, Lucca the Blood Rainer, Helga the Slaughterhouse, Stefanie the Bone Collector, Blaise the Scourge of Fate, Daphne the Empress of Agonies, Vera the Living Terror, and finally Blythe the Man Hoarder.”
Man Hoarder? Lips pursed, she climbed the steps of the amphitheater, joining the other competitors in the stands. Carrigan and Lucca nodded a greeting at her. No others glanced in her direction.
“I’m last again?” she asked. “Yeah. Sure. Totally random order.” Once again, she’d get to listen to everyone else scream.
“Not our fault Fate hates you,” the harpy quipped.
Her heart thudded as Roux appeared in the center of the arena. Two tables and a stool arrived next. Weapons adorned the smaller table. Chains hung from the other.
Pallid and a bit shaky, Carrigan headed down. Roux said something to her, his volume too low to pick up, and the Phoenix settled on the table and willingly chained herself down.
“Start the clock,” Roux called.
“Clock started,” Tonka called back.
For the next thirty minutes, the Astra sat on a stool—and Carrigan screamed. The same thing happened with the following eight warriors. Four and a half hours Blythe spent listening to blood-curdling bellows and unheeded pleas for mercy while watching Roux, vacillating between fascination and horror.
He forced the women to chain themselves to a table he flipped upright. He then eased onto the stool before them, keeping his back to Blythe. Throughout each session, he remained relaxed, talking so softly she couldn’t detect his words. He never touched his charges. Not with his hands or a weapon. Never displayed a sign of regret or remorse. Never hesitated to deliver the next round of anguish, however he was doing it.
Five women voiced their code word and died at the hands of the royal council, as promised. Thankfully, Carrigan and Lucca survived.
“Blythe the Man Hoarder,” Tonka called, giddy, “you’re up.”
Blythe’s stomach churned as she flashed to the sand. Walking would only delay the coming agony. Better to get it over with.
Perspiration dotted her palms. Oh, she didn’t care about the coming pain. Nothing he did today could compare to the anguish of losing Laban. But. She did care about what this meant for their...relationship.
Ugh. The R word. But facts were facts. Whatever had transpired in the past, they were, kind of, a couple. She’d slept with him; he’d stardusted her. If she squinted hard enough, she caught glimpses of it in the light. Honestly? She really, really wanted more. He might be the storm in her life, but he was also, somehow, a calming harbor. She savored every moment in his arms.
