Beneath the Shadows of Evil... Taken Read online

  When he felt he had succeeded, when the last vestiges of vulnerability, and weak feelings had been sealed behind a wall somewhere deep inside him, Mikhal opened his eyes, only to see his beautiful Alliana, and all the mortar and stone crumbled as surely as it had just been built. His beast slipped away to be replaced by the gentle face of the man within. He tilted his head to the side and gazed at the lovely creature that was his mate, blue eyes dark and filled with raw emotion. The golden haired goddess who graced his bed and carried his child would now spend the rest of her days at his side, and he knew he couldn’t shut her out of his heart.

  “Alliana.” Her name flowed like honey over his tongue and he murmured it again and again. “My sweet Alliana.”

  Reaching out, Mikhal took a lock of her hair in his fingers and let the silky strands slide through them, marveling at how they shimmered in the light from the hearth. It wasn’t just her beauty that captured him so completely, no, it was the glimpse he’d had into her soul that held him securely as well.

  She’d had resilience, strength, and fire, even as she lay dying in the icy waters. Her conviction had driven her out into the snow to do what had been right in her eyes. Nothing had stopped her. Not the frigid cold, not his angry commands, nothing. She was strong, and he admired the fierceness of her spirit. Never had this woman before him backed down from him. Never. She’d never pleaded and thrown tantrums, she’d never tried to play him, or used her womanly wiles to get her way, no, not his Alliana. She was true to herself in all that mattered, and look at what it had cost her. She was brave, daring and courageous, even in the face of his tyranny, and it made him proud that she was his woman.

  If he were to be honest, he’d admit that he’d recognize the fact that she was a warrior equal to himself when he’d first captured her, and he knew that what he should do was learn to swallow his pride and give Alliana her due. She should be honored for her strength, not cowed under. Yes, he was still the dominant male, but she was his mate, not a minion or a servant. His mate. Strong, beautiful, resilient, and he wanted her by his side no matter what the others said. The problem was, she wouldn’t want to be there. After all he had done, she wouldn’t want to be there.

  How could he make Alliana wish to stay? It wasn’t that she could leave, that wasn’t an option. She was his mate, simple as that, and they were wed in the eyes of the law, but now, the man in him wished for her to want to be with him. How could he gain her forgiveness and her trust? How could he get her to care for him and to recognize the special bond they shared?

  He didn’t want it to be simply a matter of making her body come alive by tending his mark in bed, he wanted their relationship to be so much more, so much deeper, but how? It had been far too long since he’d wooed a woman, far too long since he’d cared, and even when he had been a human, he’d taken what he wanted, never bothering to worry about the lass’s feelings. He was the son of a rich Lord, why should he care?

  He thought about how he had appeased his sister all these years, how he had wooed her in a sense, but shook his head in frustration. Marishka always wanted trinkets and flattery, but Alliana wasn’t Marishka. The two women were as different as night and day, and Mikhal knew Alliana would fling his gifts and sweet words back in his face if he weren’t careful.

  Mikhal shook his head and gave a small growl. What had he done? He’d hurt her so badly. Pain, revulsion, hatred, and fear flowed from her very soul whenever she looked at him, and now he wanted her to care for him? It was foolish. No, more than foolish, it was insane. He might as well be as daft as Marishka to think Alliana could come to love him, but it was what he wanted, and damn it, Mikhal the Merciless, Lord of Arcos castle, always got what he wanted.

  Mikhal reached under the coverings and gently took one of Alliana’s hands. He whispered her name, caressing her fingers with his thumb, then pulled her hand from under the furs and brought it to his lips.

  “Alliana, wake up. It’s time to wake up.” In truth it wasn’t, and he knew he should let her rest, but he needed to see her eyes, needed to speak to her and see if he could wipe away just a hint of her hatred.

  “Alliana. Wake up, Pigeon.” Finally her eyes fluttered open; she turned her head towards the sound of his voice, and then hissed out a breath when she saw him. Hatred slammed into him as her green gaze met his blue one, the look on her face speaking volumes. She tried to pull her hand away, as if his touch burned her skin, but he wouldn’t allow it. More hatred, then disgust hit him because of his refusal, but he wouldn’t give in. Mikhal grimaced and looked away for a second to compose himself, and held fast to her hand.

  “Pigeon, I want you to listen to me. I know how you feel about me, I’ve always known, and... And I know I deserve it because of what I’ve done to you, but things will be better now. I want you to understand that your life is going to change.”

  Alliana stared at him and then moved to turn away. He could feel disbelief and the familiar hatred surging up inside her and flowing into his heart, could in fact read it in her eyes. Mikhal gently took her chin in his hand and held her tight, not allowing her to turn away. His touch was gentle and that fact wasn’t lost on her, but it also did nothing to change how she felt. One act of kindness could not make up for a month of terror and pain.

  “I speak the truth, Alliana. Your life will be different from now on. The past is over.”

  Her eyebrows arched and just a hint of the old fire lit her eyes. If she’d been well it would have taken all that she had not to flay him alive with her sarcasm, but all she could do was glare. It was a struggle to fight him even to this extent, but she had to, so she searched her soul for the strength she knew lay deep inside to let this monster who held her still, know how much she despised him.

  “... Setting me free? Not if not free.” her voice was raspy and faint, weak, and the words trembled as she forced them out. If not for his vampire hearing, they would have been lost on him. They were not however, and Mikhal heard them loud and clear.

  Mikhal’s demon roared deep within him, and he saw Alliana flinch though he hadn’t made a sound. Their bond had let her feel what was raging beneath the surface; she knew when his demon was displeased. He forced his beast back, though it fought to be free, straining against his animalistic instinct. His monster wanted to slap her for questioning him, and for even suggesting that her place wasn’t at his side, but his man won the battle. Mikhal remained as gentle as possible, speaking in a firm but quiet voice, but he knew his hold on his demon was tenuous at best.

  “No Alliana. You belong here with me. You carry my child. You will stay here. I... I want you here!” ‘Calm yourself, calm down.’ Mikhal told himself over and over. He knew his anger would not temper her disdain for him; it would only ignite a deeper fire of hatred in her soul.

  “I want you here.”

  “But what do I want?” Again she spoke with the faint trembling voice, raspy yet full of emotion as she strained to make her anger known.

  “Please, love.” The disgust that surged through her and into him at his use of the endearment shocked him, and he looked at her with eyes full of hurt. She truly did despise him. Even a tender pet name produced revulsion in her. How could he ever hope to turn her heart if one mere word could cause so much aversion to well up in her soul?

  “Alliana listen. I know you wish to leave here, but that is not possible. You are my wife and you carry my child.” Again, hatred, disgust, rage, but Mikhal fought off the feelings, he had to; he had to make her listen. “You belong at my side, and you will come to see that in time. What I want you to know now is that I am sorry you were hurt by what I did. It is my right as your husband, we both know that, but you weren’t ready, and I shouldn’t have treated you so badly afterwards. I realize that, and I admit presenting myself in my demon form was wrong. I did it because I was angry, and because I had been so terrified when I found you gone, but those aren’t good excuses. It was wrong.”

  Alliana’s eyes widened. Was he apologizing? Mikhal t
he Merciless, the grand Lord Arcos, was saying he was sorry? Mikhal’s demon immediately rose up, clawing its way to the surface, causing him to growl and shake his head. It too was stunned by his admittance to guilt. Stunned and enraged, and the power of his beast couldn’t be contained this time. He fought it, he truly did, but he vamped out for a moment nonetheless, before forcing back his demon once more, and it was all Alliana needed to shut down.

  She struggled to pull her hand away, and finally Mikhal let her go; her terror slamming into him, fiercer than any blow, and her pain doubling him over with its intensity. He rose, vamping out again, confused, enraged, storming over to the hearth and sweeping his arm across the top of it, sending the mantle clock crashing to the stone floor, then flinging the earthen jug of brandy that sat on a nearby table against the far wall where it shattered with a dull thud, as the precious amber liquid seeped out among the shards and formed an ever growing pool.

  Alliana squeaked at his display of rage, her eyes growing huge, and her increased horror came at him in wave after wave. He turned on her, snarling, unable to fight his own feelings. “Stop it. Stop it, damn you.”

  Alliana looked at him bewildered, shaking her head. Her eyes big as saucers, the furs pulled up to her chin, seeking shelter behind the only form of refuge she had against the raging monster that was her husband.

  Seeing her terror, feeling her shock, knowing her pain, Mikhal fought back his demon, and then advanced towards the bed, but Alliana shook her head, mute with horror, expecting a beating. He stopped, running his hand down over his face as he changed back, feeling helpless and frustrated, close to going over the edge, at a complete loss as to how things had gone so wrong and not knowing how to make amends. “Alliana.”

  “No, please.” He could barely hear her plea, her voice was so weak, and it hit him then that not only did she look frightened beyond belief, but that she looked ill as well, truly ill, worse than before. Her hair was damp along her forehead; her lips were dry, her breathing ragged, her eyes unnaturally bright, her skin waxy and very pale. What had he done? Why hadn’t he let her rest?

  “Alliana. I... I mean no harm. Let me see to you.” Fighting off her terror, moving through it like the thickest of fog, he went to the bed and pulled her close, pressing his lips to her forehead. Just as he thought, she was hot, too hot. This was something new. She hadn’t been feverish before. Mikhal cursed under his breath at his stupidity, realizing he must have been too caught up in his own selfishness to notice the rising heat of her hand when he’d held it.

  Alliana struggled against his arms, but it was a pitiful battle as chills began to overtake her. Mikhal wanted so badly to hold her, to comfort her, but he knew that would do nothing but make her more fearful. He’d already done enough. He couldn’t give her his body heat to fight the chills that were now wracking her body, so there was no reason to put her through such misery. Instead, he pushed her back down upon the pillows and pulled the furs to her chin, then went to the bell pull, yanking it over and over to summon help. He needed Enid and he needed his wife’s servant. No longer could he be selfish and tend her. All he did was terrify Alliana and make her worse. If he wanted her to get well, it would be best if he put all thoughts of himself out of his head.

  Pulling again, Mikhal paced the room, tugging on the servants’ bell, not satisfied until Thalia came rushing in. Mikhal focused on what had to be done and began to bark orders, letting Mikhal the Merciless run free. His wife needed him, and giving commands he could handle. There was no time for emotions or dwelling on the future, he had to take control and resume the role of Master Vampire for the sake of his wife, and for the time being, it felt good.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~

  As he sat in a chair far from his Alliana’s bed, the servants came and went tending the fire, lighting candles, bringing the things Enid asked for, and another jug of brandy for their scowling Master. Thalia stayed at her Mistress’ side, bathing her forehead with a cool rag over and over, as Alliana’s small form tossed on the bed in the midst of fevered dreams. Time passed as they worked, and still Mikhal sat keeping his silent vigil, growling at any who came too near, all to the sound of his wife’s ragged cough filling the room. Finally, Enid approached and Mikhal looked up, bleary eyed an expression of bewilderment on his face. How had this all happened?

  “How is she, Enid? Tell me true.”

  “Not good. Near as I can tell she must have taken a bit of water in her lungs. Took some time to take hold, but now she can’t breathe. Take that with the cold water she lay in, and it’s given her the fever. Her heat is bad, so is the cough. Could be a struggle to save her. I can’t make you any promises this time, Mikhal. The girl did a stupid thing.”

  Mikhal didn’t want to hear about Alliana’s foolishness anymore. He knew she had been stupid, but none of that mattered any longer. What mattered was saving her. “Enough of your talk, old woman. I know what she did. My question is what can you do?”

  His ire irritated Enid, but didn’t surprise her. Not in the least, in fact, it pleased her. Mikhal wasn’t buckling under the curse. On the contrary, his newfound emotions were making him stronger. Not that that was an entirely good thing, he’d never spoken to her so harshly, or looked at her with such disdain before, but at least he hadn’t lost his edge.

  “I am not a minion or a servant. I am your friend, and you would do well to remember that.”

  “Not now, Enid.” His snarl filled the room, causing Thalia to flinch and Alliana to moan. Mikhal’s anger rose at his wife’s distress, and he wanted desperately to shake the old woman, but he held back. He needed her and she knew it. “You would do well to remember who is Master. Tell me what can be done.”

  “Potions and herbs, hot poultices on her chest to draw out the poison, cool rags on her forehead to bring down the fever. It shall help, but if the girl is not strong it won’t cure her, and she very well may lose your son.”

  Both the demon and the man inside him screamed their outrage at Enid’s proclamation. He couldn’t lose his child. He simply couldn’t lose his son. Alliana was strong, he knew she could fight this, but the babe, the babe was helpless.

  He turned from the midwife, fighting for composure. It wouldn’t do to fall apart now. He couldn’t give into his demon’s rage or his man’s fears; neither would benefit his wife. Swiping his hand over his face and looking upward as he grit his teeth, Mikhal held back a howl of outrage that life could be so unfair. He stood there, with all eyes upon him, as he struggled, feeling their curiosity, Thalia’s fear, and Enid’s pity. Thankfully Alliana was too far-gone to feel anything. Finally, turning back, he met Enid’s eyes with his own.

  “Do what you must. Use all the servants you need. Save her and save my son. She’s strong, and I know she’ll survive, but my child... Enid, save my son.”

  “The Gypsy wench has to have the will to live.”

  Enid’s eyes bore into him but he stood fast under their burning gaze. “She will. You take care of her body. I’ll see to the rest.” He said the words, but they lacked conviction. How could he give her the will to live when the life he had to offer was one surrounded by these castle walls? His home was her prison, it was as simple as that, and she hated him for it.

  “Just do it, Enid. Save them. No one in this castle shall be happy until my wife and son are safe and well.” With that Mikhal stormed out of the room. Alliana didn’t want him there so there was no good reason to stay, besides; he was hungry. The brandy he’d consumed while Enid was tending Alliana had soured in his stomach, leaving a gnawing need. It was time to feed.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Mikhal took the steps two by two and crossed the great hall with long purposeful strides, determined to forget the unpleasantries that filled his life. He would find himself some hapless victim and drain them dry for dinner, the curse could be damned. Mayhem and slaughter had always served to brighten his world, and he’d be damned if it wouldn’t do the same now. Mikhal the Merciless wouldn’t be cowed by some b
its of magick. He cared naught for what the cattle he fed on felt. Their terror had always been a part of his mainstay, and it would continue to be so.

  Arriving at the main entrance, he took in the sentries who had immediately gotten into a pose of submission at his approach. He paused, looking at them curiously, wondering why they hadn’t simply thrown open the doors as they were supposed to, and then realized he didn’t know the time. He’d been so consumed with worry over his mate that he’d been about to walk outside without knowing if it was sunlight or dark. Shocked at his own stupidity, he gave a wry chuckle of disbelief and shook his head. Such inattentive foolishness could make him appear an imbecile before the others, or even get him killed. He would have to be more vigilant in the future, regardless of what was happening with his wife.

  As he stood there, he heard a sudden scream pierced the air from outside, and Mikhal knew at once that it was the Mage. It wasn’t the scream of death, not yet, but it was one of horror, and the knowledge of imminent demise. It was a cry full of resigned terror and it made a supremely satisfied look come over Mikhal’s face. He reached out and pressed his hand to the door panel with longing for a moment, thinking it was such a pity that he couldn’t go out and witness the Mage’s death first hand, but knew the echo of the dying man’s screams would have to suffice for now. As it was, he was pleased. Lucian had done his job well.

  Mikhal smiled once more as the sound of the Mage’s cries filled the air yet again, and a wave of terror from deep inside the hapless vampire staked to the ground in the courtyard came over him. His face took on a look of pure evil, and his eyes turned cold as ice, as his beast relished in the agony of the being that had dared to betray him.