Page 12 of One Silent Night (Dark-Hunter 15)
Bravo that. They needed the spirit of war awakened like he needed a hot poker shoved up his ass. Keep that idea to yourself, boy. You don't need to give Zephyra any more suggestions on how to make you suffer.
True enough. She lived to make him beg her for mercy.
Jared met Zephyra's hostile glare and knew instantly why they were there. "It never fails to amaze me what people will do to have their way. I won't kill him for you. You know better than to ask that of me."
Zephyra tsked as she pulled a dagger out of her boot. "Why do we have to play this game, Jared? You know my thoughts. I know you're already in my head reading them. Now be a good boy and do what I say."
He was so tired of following orders. Of having no will of his own. It was time he stopped serving and took control of his miserable life. "I don't care what you do to me."
She ran a deceptively tender hand down his grizzled cheek, making him ache for a real caress. One that wouldn't turn vicious on him. "I know you don't. But we both know you don't feel that way about your little friend. Him you would die to protect."
He tensed at the mention of his demon companion. "Nim's not here. He left."
"Of course he did." Her tone was mocking.
"Nim?" Stryker asked.
Zephyra glanced at him over her shoulder. "An inutile slug demon Jared adopted."
"I did no such thing." Nim had adopted him, and he'd been trying ever since to get rid of him. The demon was a liability he didn't want or need to carry. Honestly, he was sick of Nim hanging around and complicating his worthless life even more. All the demon did was get him into trouble. And worse, Nim got him tortured.
She dragged the dagger's tip down the divine markings on his left arm. At one time he'd worn them with pride. Now they only reminded him of his humiliation. They marked him as a slave. The last of his kind.
"Is he here?" she asked.
He hissed as she laid open the length of the tattoo. His blood beaded under the line, trickling down his flesh. Stryker turned away as if the sight sickened him.
Zephyra wasn't so kind. "Looks like I guessed wrongly."
Jared met her gaze without flinching as his anger snapped. "I told you he left."
"Really?" She trailed the dagger over his collar bone. "I'll bet he's hiding on your back."
Jared gasped as she plunged the dagger deep into his shoulder, through the tattoo that was there. Pain seared him.
"Zephyra, stop!" Stryker snapped. "There's no need for this."
"Trust me, it's the only way to get his compliance. But don't feel bad for him, Stryker. He slit the throats of his own people, didn't you, Jared? Those he didn't kill, he led to the slaughter."
Pain and fury mixed inside him. "Shut up!"
"Why? It's the truth. You've never cared about anyone but yourself. So give us the demon and let me end your suffering where he's concerned."
Against his will, he jerked as she trailed the knife over the tattoo that wasn't branded into his skin. It merged with the others, but it wasn't his . . .
"Aha, found the little bugger, did I?" She clenched the dagger tight, pressing it into his skin where Nim was resting.
Jared ground his teeth. If she stabbed Nim while he slept on his body, it would kill the demon.
"Shall I liberate you from your annoyance?" She pressed the tip in, drawing blood.
Jared tried to pull away, but he couldn't. The chains held him tight and gave him no choice. "Stop!" he growled. "Don't hurt him."
"Kill Gautier and I'll let your demon live."
"And if I can't kill him?"
She jerked his hair hard, slamming his head back into the wall. "You don't want to find out. Trust me." Snapping her fingers, she used her powers to open his shackles.
Jared fell back against the wall and slid to the floor, his entire body aching. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been freed. From the sensation of his stiff muscles, it felt like centuries and it probably was.
Zephyra stood over him, looking down. "Clean yourself, dog. Bring me the head of the Malachai and I'll give you two days to wench and drink before I call you back. Betray me and you will think these past centuries were paradise."
Jared laughed bitterly. "Your mercy is beyond reproach, my lady."
"Sarcasm . . . such sweet music to me." She kicked him hard in the ribs. "Now go and carry out your orders."
Stryker met Jared's searing gaze. Hatred burned bright, but something told him the hatred was directed more inwardly than out. The poor creature. It would be kindest to kill him.
"Are you sure he can do this?" Stryker asked Zephyra as she sheathed the dagger back into her boot.
She led him out of the room and into the hallway. War pulled up their rear. "Don't let his sniveling fool you. He was created to kill."
"So was the Malachai."
"Yes, but the Malachai is half human and new to his powers. Jared should make easy work of him." Pausing in the hallway, she looked past Stryker to War. "Keep an eye on Jared. Make sure his little demon doesn't go free. That stupid slug is the only way I have to really control him."
Stryker watched as War inclined his head to her before he returned to the room where Jared had been left. "How do you know he's not going to rebel and kill War?"
She snorted. "So what if he does? Are you two friends?"
"Hardly, but if War is gone, Jared could come after you."
"So long as he wears that collar, Jared is my property. He can't kill me anymore than I can kill him. I can make him bleed and suffer, but the collar won't allow him to attack his own er in any manner. In fact, if I'm under attack, he has no choice except to defend me whether he wants to or not."
That had to be one of the cruelest things he'd ever heard of. He couldn't imagine a worse punishment than being forced to protect someone he hated. Someone who tortured him.
And it made him take a hard look at the woman in front of him. She was so familiar and at the same time so foreign. What had happened to the woman he'd married? "I remember this beautiful girl who wouldn't even allow me to have a cat in the house because she didn't want it to hurt the mice. A woman who made me carry any insect outside to set it free rather than kill it."
Her black eyes met his, and there inside he saw a hatred so potent, it stole his breath. "And I remember the sounds of my grandson screaming for mercy as he was viciously killed for being different and I was powerless to help him. I'm not that little girl you left behind, Stryker. I'm a vengeful woman at war with the world that did her wrong."
"Then you understand me. I didn't ask for this existence and I want the blood of everyone who took part in damning me to it. My father, Apollymi, Acheron, and Nick Gautier."
"What of Artemis?"
"I have no love for her. But there's no real hatred for her either. So long as she stays out of my way, I don't care what happens where she's concerned."
Zephyra looked up at him. His black hair contrasted sharply with his swirling silver eyes. He looked nothing like the boy who'd stolen her heart. The boy she'd wanted to grow old with. In those days, she'd expected to spend forty years with him, if they were lucky, before death separated them.
Eleven thousand years later, here they stood. Toe to toe. Enemy to enemy.
It was ironic really. At fourteen, she would have sold her soul to spend eternity with him. Now she only wanted to see him die miserably.
How the world changed . . .
