Bound By Fate: A Novel of the Strong (27 page)

Other than the delicious bite of his venna, Liv had felt no aggression when he had been inside her.

No, in those brief moments, it had been crystal clear that Toran was in the only place he wanted to be.

When he had pulled away, there had been only one emotion in the air between them.

His terror.

This knowledge, this understanding that there was so much more going on inside his head, made her reluctant to leave him.
 

She just needed a little space until they had time to sort things out.

“Well, I’m glad you’re exploring other options, my friend,” Mandy said. “I refuse to let you allow yourself to be his punching bag. That’s just bullshit. Besides, he’s trouble.”

“Trouble?” Liv stood up straight from where she was pulling socks and underwear out of a drawer. “What are you talking about Mandy? He’s harmless.”

Her friend coughed out a laugh. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, sister.”

“Why? What have you heard?” Liv turned and gave her friend her full attention.

“Not much.” Mandy shrugged, tracing a pattern on the quilt with a finger.

Liv tossed a pair of socks, hitting the witch in the face.

“Spill it, Mandy.”

*****

Batting the clothing missile aside, Mandy leaned forward and pursed her lips. She had heard two things.
 

The first would prove a hard conversation to have, and it was one she’d been contemplating putting off until she’d had a chance to confirm. Because if it turned out to be true, Mandy would have to kill the daemon.
 

The other was harmless––well, sorta harmless––gossip.
 

She had no problem talking gossip.
 

“From what I hear,” she said, “he puts a completely different spin on the phrase ‘lady killer.’” Other than that, and the other more eminently disturbing news, Mandy hadn’t learned much else about the daemon. Immortals, almost always near giddy to spill the beans, were surprisingly closed-lipped about the Tenn. Probably because of his freakish strength and the fact that he scared the crap out of just about everybody. Toran's cousin, on the other hand… well, let’s just say that daemon was known pretty much far and wide for his proclivity for kink.

And, without question, she could personally confirm those rumors.

“What does that mean?”

“What does what mean?” Mandy jumped.
 

Had that pervy little factoid somehow spilled outside her brain?

“What do you mean by ‘lady killer,’ Mandy?”

She took a relieved breath.
 

“Apparently he used to have a thing for killing females,” she answered.

“What?” Liv continued with her packing. “That’s absolutely absurd,” she dismissed. “I, for a fact, know that’s just not true.”

“And you would know this how?”

Liv sputtered out some non-answers.

“Yeah, yeah. Maybe you’re right.” Mandy shrugged to Liv’s turned back. She had to admit the details were a little sketchy, not to mention centuries old. “But he’s a dangerous dude,” she continued. “You know this; the entire Mythos knows this.” She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “You need to be careful.”
 

Someone’s gotta tell you what you may be up against.

Taking a deep breath, she said, “Listen, Liv. I think there’s something you need to know…”

Shouts rang out in the courtyard.
 

“What the hell?” Mandy jumped from the bed to peer out the tall, thin window. Conversation momentarily forgotten, she craned her neck to try to get a look. “I wonder what’s going on out there?”
 

“Oh my gods.”

Mandy whipped around to see Liv sway on her feet. Her friend’s eyes were wide and glassy, her breath uneven.

“What’s wrong, Liv?”

Lurching forward, Liv grabbed Mandy’s forearm and began dragging her towards the door. “We need to go.”

“Go where?”

“I can feel him.”

“Feel who?”

Liv didn’t answer. Instead, she dropped Mandy’s arm and bolted through the den, down the stairs, and across the great room floor.
 

Mandy had just about caught up to her when Liv flung open the castle door.

In the far distance, a dozen daemon warriors stood, their bodies still shimmering with mystic energy. Bloodied and filthy, they were dropped in a battle stance, shoulder to shoulder, their swords drawn, as if guarding something precious from danger.

Was that Merus behind them?

“Out! Now!” Though his shouts were dampened by the mossy walls of the castle, Merus’s heated voice scattered the village daemons who had been, just moments before, going about their day.

Within seconds, the quarter cleared completely.

In a near-choreographed motion, Merus and three of his men shifted down to hoist their fallen leader off the ground. Moving in unison, they hauled Toran’s body towards the keep, the others forming a constantly shifting circle to help ensure the safety of their would-be king.

Though he was unconscious, Toran was still a threat to the entire village.
 

And that was why Merus had cleared the area.

As if to confirm his fears, he grimaced as a tendril of Toran’s venna escaped, singing his hands. The ground beneath them trembled in warning, a bolt of blue lightning splitting the sky.

Fingers clenched tight inside his cousin’s clothes, Merus tucked his face against his shoulder. Giving an awkward shrug, he tried to wipe away the sting of sweat that clouded his eyes. Though his vision somewhat cleared, he feared nothing would erase the scenes of destruction now seared into his mind.
 

In all his long life, Merus had never seen such carnage––so many Vimora struck down at a single place in time.

Gritting his teeth, he glanced down at Toran’s face, a face etched sharp with agony.

Merus shuddered.

He had to get his cousin to his faine.

Before they could make it across the clearing, Liv sprinted out of the doorway. She was followed closely by her friend.

At the sight of the witch, a stab of worry pricked his heart.

He needed her out of there.

He needed her
safe.

“Merus! What’s happened?” Liv cried as she ran into the mix of their jostling limbs. Reaching in, she placed a hand on Toran's chest. As she struggled to hold contact with his moving form, she let out an anguished wail. “Oh my gods, he’s in pain.”

“You need to tell your friend to leave here, Liv.” Merus grimaced as another flare of Toran’s venna ripped through him.
 

“What’s happening? What’s going on?” Mandy called out from where she stood just outside the castle entrance.

“Get the door, witch,” Merus ordered. Surprisingly, she was quick to obey. “Then get the hell out of here.”
 

Pushing past her, they carried Toran's body in through the open doorway. Once inside, the witch slammed the door shut behind them.

She made no move to leave.

As they laid Toran out on a rug on the floor, Merus turned to her and raised his voice. “Get the fuck out, Mandy. You’re not safe here.”

*****

Not safe for Mandy? Why?

Liv’s heart constricted.
 

“Oh gods, how many, Merus?” She fell to her knees and placed her hands on Toran's chest. Liv bit back a groan as wild, untamed venna singed her fingers, heating the air around her.
 

“You know about his curse?” Merus spoke up from where he knelt on the other side of his cousin. Though she could tell he was worried, his eyes were thankful… and relieved.
 

She grunted as a lick of venna raged up to wrap around her chest, trying its hardest to steal her breath. “Yes, I know all about him.”

“Then you know why,” he turned to Mandy, his voice rising on every word, “she needs to leave!”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Mandy yelled back, her fists clenched at her side.

“Stop it. Both of you.” Her fear mounting, Liv turned to Toran's host of warriors. “We need to get him upstairs and somehow get him cleaned. Then I need to see…”
 

A blinding white light exploded in the room. When it dissipated into sparkling nothingness, every blade of grass, every smear of mud and blood and gore that covered Toran's now unconscious form… was gone.

All heads in the room whipped around to eye the witch.

“What? He doesn’t look much up for a bath.” Mandy pressed a hand to her chest, her tone defensive. “I wanted to help.”

“Thank you, Mandy. I really appreciate it.” Liv nodded towards the doorway, her hands pressed tight against Toran’s chest, desperate to try to give him comfort. “But why don’t you go home?” She tried to gentle her voice to hide her growing panic. “Merus is right. It’s not safe right now.”

“Why? What’s going on?” Mandy cried. “Tell me!”

“Toran needs my help. He’s…” She swayed on her knees, her bones rattling as she absorbed his agony. “I need to get him upstairs so I can…” Her eyes drifted closed. She had no words to explain what it was she now faced, how she knew she’d do whatever it took to relieve his suffering.

She just had to believe she’d survive it.
 

“It’s going to be a while,” she whispered.

“Are you going to be safe?”

Liv looked into Mandy’s beautiful cat-yellow eyes, finding strength as always in their friendship. “I’ll be fine,” she said.
 

“I don’t want to leave you,” Mandy whispered.
 

“Everything will be okay.” Liv somehow managed to smile. “Trust me. Now go.”

“Okay, girl. I’ll see you later.” Mandy glanced down at Toran before leaning in to peck Liv on the cheek. When she pulled back, a glint of fear shone in her eyes. “Be careful. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

As Mandy hurried off, Liv turned her attention back to Toran.

“Help me get him upstairs,” she ordered.

Within minutes, Toran was placed carefully in his bed.

When Toran's men filtered out, Liv turned to his cousin.

She needed to know what she was dealing with.

“How many, Merus?”

“He took out twelve assassins, plus three of my brother’s men were lost,” he answered.

“Fifteen?” Liv’s heart and lungs constricted at the news. “How many Vimora?”

“They were all Vimora,” Merus whispered.
 

“What?” Liv gasped. “How can that be?”

“We were ambushed, betrayed by the Elden. Paid for by my own blood… my fucking father.” Anger burned in his eyes. “But instead of just escaping the plane, Toran has risked everything…”
 

He sucked in a breath, the words he’d just spoken hanging heavy in the air between them.

“What do you mean,” Liv said, “he’s risked everything?”

His hand on his cousin’s arm, Merus hung his head.

“Merus, what are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry, Liv,” he whispered at the floor. “I can’t tell you.”

“What do you mean, you can’t tell me?”
 

The force of his guilt nearly snuffed out all the air in the room.

What the hell was going on.

First Anara. Now Merus.

“What is it, Merus?” she demanded. “What are you hiding from me?”

When Merus lifted his head, Liv could see that she wasn’t going to get an answer.
 

His jaw was set.

“Should I bring Anara?” he asked instead.

“No. Just leave us.” Liv didn’t have time for games. She pressed a hand to Toran's forehead. It felt as if he was burning alive.
 

Merus made no move to leave the room. Instead, he reached for her other hand.

“Liv, please.” With a gentle tug, he turned her to face him. He looked at her with beseeching eyes. “When it was over, he called for you.”

“Yes,” Liv replied coolly as she pulled her hand away. She turned her back. Placing both palms upon Toran’s chest, she opened herself up to her fate. “It seems that only I can help him now.”

Mandy had made it as far as the main gatehouse entrance before Merus was able to catch up with her. Though he had just left the bed of his injured cousin, he was consumed with her, her presence in Venn Dom an itch that could not be ignored.

He had to speak with her.

“Mandena,” he called.
 

Her name upon his lips, he was desperate to feel her, especially now that he knew the mere timbre of his voice was capable of arousing such sensuality… of awakening so many of her hidden desires.

His skin tingled with expectation as he opened himself up to savor her response.

He got nothing but attitude.

She turned to him, a fake smile plastered on her face.

“Hey, Merus,” she said. “What’s up?”

“What’s up?” He closed the distance between them. “Is that all you have to say to me? Seriously?”
 

Gods, she was infuriating. And just as elusive. After just one night bound to his rack, she had not come back for more. He had checked his phone like an idiot for weeks, pining like a schoolboy for a call, or just a simple text.

Well, there had been that one night.

“How’s it hanging?”

He found himself staring her down.

“Don’t start with me, witch,” he said at last. “I can think of better uses for that flippant little tongue.”

He watched a blush, that godsdamn blush, so incongruent with her blatant sexuality, creep up her neck.
 

“What the hell do you want, Merus?” she cried. “Are you senile? You’re the one who told me to leave!”
 

Ignoring her, he threw out his arms, his palms open in irritated supplication. “It’s been months! Why have you not come back to me?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she drawled. “I guess I figured I didn’t have an appointment.”

His vision went blue.

“If you don’t watch it,” he said, “I’m going to spank that attitude right out of you.” Wrestling his venna back under control, he leaned in to whisper at her ear, “I thought you liked what I did to you.” He trailed a fingertip down her neck.