Читать книгу The Darkest Craving - Gena Showalter - Страница 11

JOSEPHINA SPRINTED THROUGH the forest, twigs beating at her, leaves sticking to her. She pumped her arms and legs with all her might and began to pant, the night air burning her nose and throat. In one terrible swoop, all of her enemies had found her—yet none of them wanted to kill her.

A Fae army was here, determined to escort her home.

The Phoenix was here, determined to enslave her.

Kane was here, determined to … finally do as he’d promised? Or did he plan to hand her over to her family and collect a reward?

Probably the reward. Some of the Lords were wily like that.

What had she done wrong? How had she been spotted? She’d been so careful, sneaking here, hiding there. Only twice had she spoken to a human, and only to ask the males to run her over with their cars.

Both men had looked at her as if she were insane.

Maybe she was.

All she knew was that death—any death—was preferable to life with her family. The pain and suffering that came with Synda’s punishments was bad, but the agony of not knowing what the next punishment would be was far, far worse.

Her own father hated her, and rejected her at every turn. For centuries, she’d just wanted someone to love her. To see value in her.

Of course, then there was Leopold. Her own half brother wanted her in his bed, and wouldn’t stop pressing until he got her there.

Every day was a new stress. Josephina would wake up feeling as if she were standing on top of a mountain, screaming for help, but no one cared enough to listen. Tension never left her. And by the end of each day, her nerves were so frayed she feared she would have a nervous breakdown.

It was too much. She was tired, so very tired. She craved an end. Needed an end. Finally.

Sadly, she couldn’t kill herself—and how morbid was a thought like that? Other Fae could end their own lives, but not her. To purposely injure herself was to suffer with that injury, no matter how severe, for weeks, sometimes months. Eventually, she would heal. Even from a beheading. Yes, her body would grow back. Her father had made sure of it, using an ability she would love to steal, but couldn’t. The guards protected him too diligently.

Something hard slammed into her back, tossing her down. She hit the dirt and twig-laden ground with a loud crash, her lungs momentarily deflating. As she struggled to breathe, she was flipped over. Panic overwhelmed her, heating and freezing her at the same time. Tiny black dots winked through her vision, yet she managed to make out the shape of a man looming over her.

“Josephina,” he gritted out.

Kane. She recognized the low, gruff quality of his voice, and the panic receded. “Jerk! Just because you’re a star doesn’t mean you can act that way. A simple ‘stop’ would have sufficed.”

“I did say stop. You ignored me.” The weight of him lifted from her, allowing her to pull herself into a sitting position. She drank in as much oxygen as possible, and her eyesight finally cleared.

The warrior crouched in front of her, slivers of moonlight dancing over him. His hair was disheveled, but that hardly mattered. The strands of flax glowed as if they’d been sprinkled with stardust, reminding her of gorgeous ribbons of gold only the Opulens—the Fae upper class—could afford. The darker strands blended into the night. Red eyes watched her intently, angrily … with the barest glimpse of sizzle?

“Your eyes,” she said, unsure whether she shivered or shuddered. She recognized that bloodlike color, had seen it glowing from Synda’s gaze too many times to count. But the princess had never caused her every pulse point to flutter wildly.

He looked away, as though shamed. “They’re red. I know.”

Poor Kane. “What happened?” What had caused the demon to become so strong?

Without thought, she reached out to brush her gloved fingers against the skin underneath. He caught the motion and stiffened, reminding her of his dislike of contact; his air of anger intensified. But he didn’t flinch, as he’d done with Sabin.

“Is this okay?” she whispered.

He gave a stiff nod.

Gulping, she continued reaching.

At contact, his pupils expanded, gobbling up every bit of color. Even the red. His breathing changed, from slow and even to deep and shallow. The very air around them seemed to charge with electrical impulses, little sparks dancing over every inch of her.

I … like him?

No. Surely not. She’d had crushes before, but this was something else entirely. More intense. Almost overwhelming.

“That’s enough.” He grabbed her by the wrist, moving with lightning-fast reflexes, and she realized he was trembling. “Forget my eyes,” he bit out, setting her hand away from him. “Every time I’m near you, I hurt. Why?”

Deep down, part of her mourned the separation with him. The other part of her wanted to cry over this brand-new rejection.

You’re angry with him. This is silly.

“How should I know? You’re the first person ever to complain.”

“You’re not doing anything to me?”

“Of course not. Now, how did you find me? How do you know my name?”

“The answers don’t matter. I came to help you.”

“Help me?” Hope opened as sweetly as a rose in sunlight, bright and beautiful. “Really?”

He nodded.

“Oh, Kane. Thank you!” He planned to kill her, the darling man. No longer would fear be her constant companion. No longer would she have to endure her half sister’s punishments. No longer would she have to avoid Leopold’s advances. “How do you want to do it? A dagger? Your bare hands? Poison? My vote is quick and painless, but I’ll be satisfied with whatever you choose. Really. You won’t hear a single complaint out of me.”

Kane flashed his perfect white teeth in a scowl. “I’m not going to kill you, Tinker Bell.”

Wait. What? “But you just said you’d help me.” And had he really just called her freaking Tinker Bell? I’m not a thumb-sized sprite, dang it!

“I will. I’ll take care of your problems. That way, you’ll want to live.”

Every ounce of the hope withered. He had no idea what he was saying, or how impossible such a task would be.

“Where have you been?” she asked, ignoring his offer. Had he gone home to a girlfriend? The last story she’d read about him had claimed he was single, but a year had passed since then. Or, in her case, a thousand and one years. Had he pampered this nameless, faceless female?

I’m the one who saved him. I deserve to be pampered.

“Respond to my promise,” he growled.

She sighed. “Why do you want to help me, Kane?” Beautiful Kane, with his rainbow of colors.

“I can’t not help you.”

“But … why?”

“You’re min—” A muscle ticked below his eye. “I owe you.”

He’d only get himself killed, and she didn’t want that. “Well, I release you from your debt. How’s that?”

He shook his head. “I’m your new constant companion, Tinker Bell. It’ll be better for both of us if you get used to the idea.”

Kane … with her every second …

A blessing and a curse, just like her strength-stealing ability. “Either kill me, get me out of the forest, or get lost. Those are your three choices.”

“I’ll get you out of the forest,” he said, standing, circling her with all the predatory intent of a ravenous beast, “and while I’m doing it, you’ll tell me how many people I need to kill to make you feel like your life is worth saving.”

She wrapped her arms around her middle lest she be tempted to reach out again. “Too many.”

“So the problem is people.” He stopped in front of her.

“Yes, but did you hear me? There are too many of them.”

“Too many is my specialty.” Hesitant, he held out his hand to help her up.

More contact? Freely offered this time?

She licked her lips and stretched out her hand.

He recoiled, as though startled, even though he’d been the instigator, and his arm dropped to his side. He made a fist, a dark, frightening need springing to life in his eyes. But … a need for what?

Trembling, she labored to her feet under her own steam. Which, to be honest, wasn’t much. Her adrenaline must have crashed. Her knees knocked together, struggling to hold her up.

“I’m sorry,” Kane said, his voice low and quiet, yet somehow far more undisciplined than she knew him to be. “I should have helped you.”

Clearly, he hadn’t gotten over his aversion to touch. Especially hers. “Yes, well, I’m not going with you, and I don’t want my problems murdered. An attempt would only create more problems.”

“I’m afraid your days of making your own decisions are over. I’ve got problems of my own, and I can’t see to them until I’ve seen to yours.”

She backed away from him.

He shook his head. “Don’t you dare run, Tinker Bell. I’m strong enough to chase, and I don’t think you’ll like the results.”

Her stupid body tingled, a clear disagreement. Did he wield some strange ability she’d never before encountered?

Stop thinking and move! She faked a pass to the right. He followed, and she darted to the left. Then, she ran at full steam.

He slammed into her, knocking her down. He wasn’t even winded when he said, “Consider this your final warning,” his warm breath caressing the back of her neck.

Oh my…. His weight was as heavy as before, pressing her into the ground, but this time, because she knew the culprit, she didn’t feel threatened. She felt … achy, her nerve endings sizzling with undeniable awareness.

“Let me go. I’ll hurt you if you don’t.”

He stood, dragging her with him. He held on tightly, surprising her, his arms steel bands she couldn’t break—didn’t want to break. But he was still shaking, as if touching her was somehow more painful to him than he’d claimed her nearness was. It shouldn’t be. Not yet.

“Kane,” she said. “I’m serious. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Sweetheart,” he replied, practically breaking her heart with the sudden thread of gentle kindness in his tone, “this is for your own good. I promise.”

No, it wasn’t. He simply didn’t understand. She tugged off one of her gloves. Her hands were her only weapons; he would hate her for what she was about to do to him, would never again come near her, but he’d left her with no other option. “Last chance.”

“I told you. I’m not letting you go.” He hefted her over his shoulder and trudged forward, shouldering his way through tree limbs determined to slap him. “I’m saving you.”

“You can’t save me.” Fighting wave after wave of guilt, Josephina reached out and gripped his forearm. “Please don’t make me do this.”

“And just what is it you think you’re doing, hmm?”

Leaving you helpless. Tears welled in her eyes. No other choice. She tightened her grip on him. Instantly, her pores became tiny vacuums, sucking the strength out of him and into her.

He stilled, gasping. “What are you doing, Tinker Bell? Stop that.”

“I’m sorry.” Warmth flooded her; warmth and the fizz of energy … so much energy, lighting her up. No, not lighting, she realized a second later, but darkening. Then, utter blackness gobbled up the light, cloaking her, sending her tumbling straight into a spiraling pit of despair.

Kane set her on her feet.

A terrible scream cut its way through her throat. Her knees buckled, but he was no longer able to hold her up. She slammed into the ground, contact finally severed. What was happening? What was wrong with her? And the screams—hers, and someone else’s, someone sinister—argh! Growing louder and louder.

And yet, through it all, a single whisper managed to claim her attention. I hate you. Hate you so much. Want to kill you. Will kill you. Soon, soon, so very soon.

I don’t understand, she thought, panicked.

You deserve pain, and I’ll make sure you get it if you go near him again. He’s mine. Mine. I won’t share him with you. Never you.

Nearing hysteria, she drew on every reservoir of strength she possessed, lumbered to her knees and crawled forward, away from Kane. Yes, she had to escape Kane. All of this had come from him. Belonged to him. The more distance, the better. Please.

Rocks sliced at her palms and knees, but she didn’t care. In the distance, she heard the snap of breaking wood. The whoosh of air. Something hard slammed into her, knocking her feet out from under her and planting her face first in the dirt.

When the daze cleared, she realized the culprit wasn’t Kane this time, but a tree.

She fought her way free, tears streaming down her cheeks, and continued her journey forward.

“Josephina,” Kane called. “Tinker Bell … what did … you do? To me?” His voice was weak, rasping.

A spark of light dashed across her small line of vision, followed by another. Soon, colors formed, taking shape. Bushes, tree roots and trunks, piles of leaves, a coyote stalking past—only to stop and bare its teeth, as if preparing to attack her. But another tree fell, slamming against her and scaring the animal away.

Hate you. Hate you, hate you, hate you.

Pain momentarily stunned her, her abused back threatening to shatter.

Before she could fight her way free, a pair of boots appeared in front of her. Boots she recognized.

Josephina swallowed a groan. No. No! Anyone but him.

“Well, well,” the owner of those boots said. “What do we have here?”

She recognized the voice, as well. Leopold, her half brother, had found her. He would ensure she returned home … back to her own personal hell.

KANE HEARD TINKER Bell screaming, and battled a rage unlike any other.

Mine, he thought. No one was allowed to hurt her, not even him, not even as angry as he was with her for what she’d done to him.

What had she done to him?

He wanted to stand and help her, whatever was wrong with her. He did. Yet, his body was too weak.

He’d vowed never to be weak again. Or, barring that, to kill the cause.

Tinker Bell was the cause, somehow, but he wouldn’t be killing her. He would be … he wasn’t sure, and didn’t like that he couldn’t decide.

One second he’d been as normal as a man like him could be, carrying her over his shoulder. The next, he’d felt warm silk pressed against his arm, and he’d begun to weaken. He’d set her down as his limbs began to tremble. Then, he’d crumbled.

But then, so had she.

The darkness he’d carried for so long had thinned, but instead of strength taking its place, he’d experienced extreme fatigue.

He’d watched, helpless, as Tinker Bell curled into herself. Her skin had gone pallid, and horror had consumed her features. She’d looked … haunted. He’d reached for her, but she’d managed to crawl away. He hadn’t managed to follow. Soon she’d disappeared beyond the line of trees.

Must help her.

“So, it’s safe to say this night isn’t going according to plan.”

William’s voice hit him, and he struggled to sit up.

“The girl.”

“Escaped. Burned me, too, the little—”

“Not the Phoenix. The Fae. Go get her.”

“I’m too hungry to run.”

Rage gave him enough strength to hurl a rock at the warrior’s fat, ugly head. “Go!”

“Fine.” Footsteps echoed. “But you’ll owe me.” Swaying limbs, swishing leaves, then … nothing.

In and out Kane breathed. There was something else happening inside him, something stranger than the sudden weakness, and he needed to figure out what it was. And it should be easy. For the first time in centuries, his mind was silent. Thoughts were easy, without any kind of dark filter. Emotions were pure, without any kind of terrible guidance. He was—

Alone, he realized.

Realization knocked him flat on his back. In that moment, there was no hint of the demon’s presence. No sickness in the pit of his stomach. No icy fingers of dread crawling all over his skin. No terrible whispers in the back of his mind.

But … how could that be? Kane was alive. And if he was alive, the demon was with him. Right?

Or, had the Greeks lied to him and his friends the first day of their possession, as he’d hoped? Gideon had once survived several minutes without his demon. Of course, the creature had still been tethered to him, and had returned.

Kane thought back. He’d never actually seen a possessed warrior killed simply because the demon had left his body. His friend Baden had died from a beheading. Cronus and Rhea, former king and queen of the Titans, had been demon possessed and had died from a beheading, too.

What if Disaster was gone? Permanently? But where could the demon have gone? With Tinker Bell?

Was Disaster the reason she’d screamed?

Or had she somehow killed the creature?

Had Kane finally experienced something good?

He rolled his shoulders, the muscles knotted and protesting as if he’d never really used them. He and Tinker Bell were going to have a long talk. He would ask questions and she would supply answers. If she hesitated, he would spank her. Yes. That’s what he’d do to her, he decided.

Part of him wanted her to hesitate.

He’d never thought to experience sexual desire again—not true desire—and yet, when he’d tackled her, her softness beneath him, and he’d had her scent in his nose, and her panting breaths in his ears, he’d yearned to strip her, to see her, all of her, and take everything she had to give.

She might have let him. But just how would his body, and his mind, have reacted?

Now, the need for her was still there, a thorn in his side. He didn’t like it, had to get rid of it.

A frowning William returned—without the girl.

Kane growled low in his throat. “What happened?”

“There was no sign of her,” the warrior said. “And don’t get your panties in a twist, but, uh, there was evidence of a struggle.”