Beneath the Shadows of Evil... Taken Read online

  Mikhal looked at Enid and again felt her deep caring and concern for his well-being. Satisfied that she would not betray him until she saw just means, he simply nodded his consent to their pact. The pair walked in silence the rest of the way to Alliana’s chambers. When they arrived, Mikhal paused outside the door and turned to the midwife again.

  “Enid, there is one more thing. I do not wish my wife to be told of the curse. No one, especially her, is to be told about what the Mage and Marishka have done to me.”

  “There will be questions when the Mage is turned to dust.”

  “Let them come to me if they want answers.” The fire in Mikhal’s eyes and the snarl in his tone made it clear his decision was final.

  “Very well. I shall do my best to keep Marishka from babbling to the minions. If she shares your secret with anyone, it will be with the imaginary beings that bombard her night and day. If she is kept sedated she won’t speak to them as much. She likes the milk of poppy, and it works well to keep the voices in her head at bay.”

  Before Mikhal could reply, he heard Thalia’s voice raised in alarm from inside the chamber. Entering with a cry of his own, he rushed across the room just in time to catch Alliana as her legs gave out from under her. She had been trying to get out of her bath, and the pain from her thawing feet had become overwhelming, causing what little strength she had to leave her.

  He swooped her up, heedless of the water soaking his clothes and the floor, and turned a furious look towards Thalia who was backing away in terror. She knew she had done a terrible thing when she had allowed the Mistress to rise, but she truly hadn’t been able to stop her. Alliana had become crazed and delirious as she’d regained consciousness, and before Thalia knew it, she was clamoring to get out of the tub.

  Before Mikhal could launch into a tirade or strike her dead, Thalia dropped to her knees at his feet. “My Lord, forgive me. I sent a servant to tell you the Mistress had woken, but before you arrived she began to struggle and fight me. I tried my best to keep her in the water but I… I didn’t want to injure her. She isn’t herself.”

  “No one came for me.”

  “It was but a minute ago.”

  Alliana began to push her hands against his chest, and he looked down to see her staring up at him with glassy eyes. She paused as she had a moment of recognition for the man who held her, and Mikhal felt the anger and revulsion she felt for him shoot deep into his soul. Her struggles increased along with the pure rage in her heart, and Mikhal had to do everything in his power not to show Alliana that he knew what she was feeling, and that it hurt him deeply.

  “Put... me... down.” The words were whispered but spoken in fierce anger.

  Mikhal ignored her, knowing he had to do what was best for her and his son. He looked back at Thalia, forcing back the daggers of pain shooting through him at Alliana’s disgust for him. “Get off the floor and see to her needs. I shall deal with your inability to follow my orders later.”

  Thalia rose, looking about for what to do first to see to Alliana’s needs, anything to please her Master. She knew he was furious that Alliana had almost fallen. “Yes, My Lord.”

  A growl rose up from deep inside him as Mikhal watched the servant woman fumble with the drying towel, but as he made his sound of displeasure, a wave of terror emanated from his wife. His show of anger died in his throat as he looked down upon her, and the fierce growl turned to a hushing sound as he tightened his arms around her. Part of him wanted to reassure her, to whisper sweet words, to tell her not to be frightened, but he knew that now wasn’t the time. There were others watching with keen eyes, and he dared not display any weakness.

  Mikhal reached out and snatched the towel from Thalia, then turned his back to her and Enid, and went to a chair by the hearth. He sat and cradled Alliana in one strong arm and began to gently dry her. Her eyes were open but unfocused, as if she weren’t entirely sure where she was or how she’d gotten there. Her lids were heavy, green orbs glassy; pupils huge as she tried to focus on his face then looked about in confusion. It was clear that her mind was attempting to put up a protective shield against the memories of the nights fateful events.

  Mikhal brushed his fingers over her temple, and had to fight the overwhelming urge to kiss her, to lap at his mark of claim and ease her tension, but he didn’t know if the intimate act would frighten her as well. His touch there might increase her confusion or renew the revulsion that had fled her heart when her mind had built up its wall of defense. Instead, he simply held her for a moment, looking, wondering if things would ever be right.

  Her hair was clean but matted, and her skin had regained some of its color, but there was blood dried on her lip from where it appeared she had bitten the bottom one, and the dark circles that had smudged the delicate skin under her eyes just weeks before had reappeared. As he began to stroke her body with the towel, Alliana moaned and shook her head back and forth, but the motion clearly made her dizzy. She closed her eyes and weakly tried to raise a hand to the lump upon the back of her head.

  Not having the strength, her hand flopped back down, and Mikhal could feel her despair. She was hurting, terrified, and repulsed by the feel of his hands upon her, and Mikhal felt it all, but he continued to work with a gentle touch, and did his best to close off his heart to her pain.

  He tried to tell himself that she didn’t really know him, that she would react to anyone touching her now after she’d been so abused, but he couldn’t really convince himself of that. He believed that no matter how delirious she was, deep inside Alliana knew that the man who had forced himself upon her was the very one who was touching her now.

  Even so, Mikhal pushed away the anguish. She had to be dried and put to bed, and it had to be done right now. Her feelings couldn’t matter. Later he would tend to her heart and soul. He’d talk to her when they were alone. He’d be gentler with her now, and things would be better. Yes, she needed to be reprimanded for what she’d done, but... but it could wait.

  ‘Forever?’ His demon screamed out in his head. ‘You’ll wait forever now you weak willed pitiful excuse for a vampire.’ Mikhal shook his head and grit his teeth. ‘No! Not forever.’ He wasn’t weak, she was his mate and he had to care for her, had to protect her. Feeling as if a battle to the death was taking place in his very being, but not having time to dwell on his own inner pain, Mikhal continued with his work, ignoring both voices and focusing on his wife.

  When her skin was dry, Mikhal carefully toweled her hair, avoiding the large lump that was causing her so much pain. He ran his fingers through the golden strands before the heat of the fire, drying them, and making them shimmer as they fell. Once most of the knots were gone and her hair was dry, Mikhal carried his wife to the bed. Another servant had brought a woolen nightgown, and it was laid out, ready for her. The thing would cover her from chin to toe, and keep her quite warm. How could he have forgotten that humans needed such things in the winter?

  Mikhal laid Alliana down, and then carefully pulled the nightgown over her head, tying the drawstring snugly at her neck, and smoothing the sleeves. He then picked her up in one arm, holding her carefully and firmly though she stiffened at his touch, and pulled back the furs covering the bed.

  After he did so, he paused, holding her close, feeling her shiver in his arms. The ripple through her body wasn’t followed by a wave of disgust from her heart, so Mikhal knew a chill had shaken her, and he was simply loathe for a moment to let her go. She looked so vulnerable and so sweet, so young, yet so womanly and alluring at the same time.

  He brushed his hand along her cheek, and then let his fingertips graze his mark of claim upon her neck. His actions caused her to shiver again, and this time what Mikhal felt radiating from her soul was a feeling of an entirely different nature. He smiled, but his look of happiness soon turned to a scowl when the spark of fire their mating bond caused between them was immediately followed by a sickening wave of utter disgust at herself, contempt for him, and hatred, pure, raw hatred.


  The mysterious bond of the mating claim had broken through her confusion, and Alliana suddenly knew precisely who held her once more. She stiffened once again and struggled to be free of his arms as her disgust for him filled her, and Mikhal had to fight against the pain her rejection and loathing for him caused in his own heart.

  “Alliana.”

  “Down... I”

  The fear and confusion were building inside, along with the revulsion again, and Mikhal did as she asked, not being able to stand it any longer. He backed away from his wife and allowed his own anger to take over the space inside him where her pain had so recently been.

  Stepping away from the bed, he turned to Enid. “Tend her. See if my son will live.” Orders given, Mikhal walked further from the bed and began to pace, tapping into his deep well of rage as he went, doing all he could to block out Alliana’s emotional anguish.

  Enid glanced at Mikhal. She had watched him with eagle eyes as he’d tended so gently to his bride, musing to herself that her friend had indeed fallen under both the Empathy curse and the spell of simple love. Be it the mating bond, or just the age-old spark between a man and a woman, it didn’t matter, the feelings were there nevertheless. At least on Mikhal’s part.

  As for the Gypsy, that was a different story. It was clear she wanted no part of the Master Vampire who had stolen her from her family and taken her as his mate. Now, as Enid approached the bed, she stared at the girl, assessing her condition. “You never told me what she did, Mikhal. How did she come to be in this state?”

  Mikhal snarled as the picture of his mate lying frozen and near death in the icy stream flashed into his head. “The little fool ran away, barefoot in the snow and took a bath in the stream. She hit the back of her head as well. There is a lump there. She was unconscious and laying in the water when I found her.”

  Enid turned and raised an eyebrow. “Am I to assume then that you once again asserted your husbandly rights? Is that why she did what she did?”

  Mikhal was filled with fury at her words. He would not, simply would not, feel shame for taking what was his. She had decided to go to the stream. Alliana had done this to herself. “How am I to know, and what does it matter? Yes I took her; the rest was her doing. You told me it was time.”

  “Settle my friend. I am not accusing you of anything. I did indeed tell you it was safe to bed her.” At Enid’s words, Alliana moaned and cringed. Mikhal felt her revulsion, her horror as she thought of how he had taken her, and her feelings filled him with both remorse and rage.

  Enid’s eyes stayed on Mikhal as the wave of emotions went through him. Seeing his confusion, knowing he was experiencing everything Alliana felt, a surge of pity she couldn’t stop rose inside her, for what had been done to him.

  Mikhal’s eyes flashed with fire the moment he felt it. He snarled fiercely, his demon coming to the forefront in a flash, moving forward towards the midwife with deadly intent. No one, No one, would pity him. Ever!

  “Don’t you dare, old woman; I have no need for your pity.” Worried that he had said too much, shown too much feeling. Mikhal forced himself to regain control without doing bodily harm to Enid, and turned towards Thalia. “You, get out of here until I ring for you.” Then keeping his back to Enid, disgusted with himself and the situation he had been thrust into, he barked at the midwife to get on with examining his wife.

  Enid first raised Alliana’s head none too gently, and ran her fingers over the lump on the back of her skull. Alliana winced and tried to turn away, but Enid fisted her gnarled hand into Alliana’s long hair, holding her steady. Mikhal, sensing her pain, grimaced but refused to turn. Enid was testing him, he knew it, and for both of their sakes, he had to show her he was still emotionally stable. He also knew that the old witch knew what she was doing whether she liked Alliana or not.

  “Aye, she has quite a bump, but she’s awake. That is a good sign. Someone must keep watch and rouse her every hour or so though.” Her hands released Alliana’s head back onto the pillow and began to run up and down over her arms, rubbing briskly, and then stopping to hold her cold hands.

  “She’s got good color to her skin here, but she may still lose her fingers if she was in the water too long. I’m more worried about her feet though. The rot could set in if they froze. If her toes blacken they’ll have to come off. I told you from the start she was an idiot.”

  The thought of Alliana losing her fingers and toes churned his stomach. He knew he shouldn’t care, knew he should feel it was her just due for defying him and doing something so utterly stupid, but he couldn’t. The thought of the pain she would experience knifed though him all the same.

  “Isn’t there anything you can do?”

  “Let me test them for feeling. The skin doesn’t appear frozen any longer but it may be too late. You’ll have to ... Well this may be hard.”

  “Mind your own business Enid, and worry about my wife. My feelings are not your concern.”

  Hurt by his disregard for her worry, letting her own emotions take full hold, knowing he would feel it too, Enid huffed and marched over to where her bag had lain since the day Alliana had been moved into these chambers. She withdrew a long needle and returned to the bed, glancing back at Mikhal, glaring, when their eyes met.

  She lifted one of Alliana’s feet and held her toes fast, then methodically pricked them one by one with a sharp little jab. Each prick produced a bead of blood to appear and caused Alliana to jerk and cry out in pain. Without a word, Enid moved to Alliana’s other foot, raising it with the intent of continuing.

  Mikhal’s hands were fisted at his side, fighting what he was feeling. As the level of pain increased in his wife, Mikhal ran his hand over his face, growling, and then finally stormed towards the bed before Enid could complete Alliana’s other foot.

  “Is that really necessary?”

  “Humph! I warned you.”

  The rumbling in Mikhal’s chest deepened and Enid knew she’d better stop her games. The time for petty anger was over. She had proved her point. “It must be done. See how her toes bleed? How she felt each prick of the needle? That means the blood is flowing and that she still can feel her toes. It tells me there is less chance the rot will set in. We’ll still have to watch for the skin to blacken mind you, but she may be lucky.”

  “And her hands?”

  “They must be done as well. It’s the only way to know. If there is no blood, no pain, we can try to warm them more.”

  “Very well. Be quick about it, and then see about my son.”

  Enid did as he asked, as Mikhal snarled and fought the stabs of pain he too felt because of the midwife’s ministrations. When she was through, Enid promptly began to fold up Alliana’s nightgown. Feeling the touch of the witch hag once again, Alliana began to fight as hard as she could as revulsion filled her.

  “No.” She tossed her head upon the pillow and clawed at Enid’s hands. The midwife tried to slap them away, but Alliana, even in her state of semi confusion, knew what she wanted, and was determined that the hag was not going to examine her again.

  She kicked her feet and flailed her hands, her panic giving her strength, finally landing a blow to Enid’s face. The midwife huffed loudly, holding her cheek and glaring at Alliana, her own hand raised to deliver a blow of retaliation, but Mikhal intervened before she could make good on her intent.

  Feeling Mikhal’s hand lock around her wrist, Enid whirled, outraged. “She hit me! Your little Gypsy whore struck me.”

  “I am aware of that, Enid.”

  “And yet you stop me from giving her what is due?”

  “She isn’t herself.

  “What does that matter? She is but a human.” Enid didn’t think of herself as being human any longer. She had cut her ties to her blood kin years ago, and joined the league of vampires.

  “She is my wife. My mate.”

  “And so you won’t let me punish her as she deserves?”

  “Enid, I.” Mikhal dropped the midwife’s ha
nd, whirling around, he vamped out, snarling, then fought to control himself, and regained his human form once more. He was filled with a pure burning rage, and it wasn’t directed at the fragile woman who lay upon the bed. No, it was a rage meant for his dear old friend, and it ate him up inside.

  He was disgusted that he had so little control of his demon’s fury, while at the same time filled with anger that he actually was beginning to hate his evil beast. It was who he was, wasn’t it? How could he despise that part of him? It was hard to believe it, but he did. His demon self was what controlled all the vile acts he committed, and it was the part of him that had almost destroyed his wife. Therefore, he was now loath to accept that very heart of his being. Instead, he wished to lock it away, only allowing it to come out when he needed his beast to be the Master Vampire who ruled his domain with an iron fist.

  When Enid had begun her attempt at examining Alliana, Mikhal could feel the true extent of horror and revulsion his wife felt at being touched by the hag. Alliana’s disgust and terror, her panic at the idea of those fingers exploring the intimate part of her body, had been overwhelming, and when Alliana had lashed out, he felt her need as his own. There had been no anger over her action, but when Enid had attempted to return the blow, the sight of a hand raised in anger towards his wife, and the thought of the pain she would experience because of it, made him crazed.

  He forced back his monster and turned back around, knowing he had to fight what was happening to him, he had to be strong. This was no time for feelings and pitiful human emotions. He’d had enough. He moved to the bed and took Alliana’s face in his hands, gently but firmly.