Reclaiming Mystique Page 2

  “We don’t have much time,” Carinna said softly, reminding Naria that while Carinna could remain a wraith forever, Naria didn’t have the stamina to do so.

  Naria nodded to her sister, and they floated out of the prison wing toward the Light Cell, a room devoted to torturing the most severe of Dark World’s citizens. Most Dark World residents couldn’t stand the light. Naria and her sister were exceptions.

  Knowing that no one would bother them in here, Naria released her will and sank back into mortal flesh once more. She heard Carinna sigh and watched as she did the same.

  “Who do you think he is?” Naria asked, an unfamiliar excitement coursing through her veins upon seeing the new prisoner, the mysterious blond man. “He’s been separated from the others in the cell down the hall. And he’s been here for over two months now.”

  Carinna raised a brow. “You seem to know an awful lot about him for someone who should be studying her charts. Don’t you have some history exams on the Fer moon tomorrow?”

  Naria waved away her concerns. “I know all that already. Dark World history has always been my passion. The test will be easy. What I want to know is why those men are here and what Father plans on doing with them.”

  “Honestly, Naria, though you’re a year older than me you seem to be so very, very young.” Carinna shook her head. “What do you think Father will do with them? He’s not a demon lord because he’s compassionate. He’s been torturing the men for weeks now.” She lowered her voice and stepped closer. “From what I overheard Rala saying, the blond is giving Father fits. He won’t react the way he’s supposed to.”

  Rala, Depar and Bayna were Naria and Carinna’s half-sisters. They all shared the same father, Lord Demise. But Rala, Depar and Bayna had Lordess Xeche for a mother. Naria and Carinna had been born of an offworlder.

  “I supposed Bayna has been begging to try her new talents on these prisoners?” Naria didn’t bother to hide her distaste.

  “It’s what they do. A Succubus is only as good as her power over men. And you have to admit these males are prime specimens. I know you haven’t looked beyond the light-haired male, but the other four are built strong and firm. Warriors, I’d guess. You know what they say about warrior appetites,” Carinna ended on a blush.

  Naria smiled, amused to see her sister not quite as worldly as Carinna would like her to believe. Like her half-sisters, Carinna possessed a petite yet curvaceous frame, flowing dark red hair and black eyes—typical Dark Worlder features. Unlike her half-sisters, Carinna’s eyes did not glitter with menace and anger but with intelligence and curiosity.

  “I take it Father hasn’t agreed to let them work on the offworlders then?” Her half-sisters were no doubt drooling over the strangers.

  “No. And Bayna is in fits over it.” Carinna chuckled. “She’s been lusting over the males ever since they got here. You’d think it’s been cycles and not mere moons since our last captives.”

  Naria shook her head. Lust. Deceit. Agony. Her half-sisters lived for despair. Though Naria had been born a Dark Worlder, she felt like a fraud. Not only did she look different from everyone else, she disliked causing harm and suffering—the steady breath of life for her kind.

  Negative energy grew like a virus throughout Dark World’s five moons, which were the true lifesblood of their world system. Only crashed vessels and ravagers lived on the actual planet of Dark World; the majority of Dark World’s natives lived on its surrounding moons. Having transferred the crew of the SpaceStalker to Lysst, the militant moon, Naria’s father had gained control of the new prisoners. Here the men would be tortured and tested, prodded and studied to see what they knew and why they landed on a known hostile world.

  Though her father lived and worked on this moon, and Naria held some affection for him though she couldn’t fathom the way his mind worked, she preferred Fer, the learning moon. There she could content herself in studies, losing herself in texts and fantasies of what life might be like away from so much anguish.

  Her father’s tenth wife, Lordess Xeche, and her daughters resided on Arnth, the pleasure moon. Naria and Carinna had spent their first few cycles on Arnth before moving to Fer to learn about Dark World. A few cycles past, Carinna had fortunately showed an aptitude as a wraith, earning her the right to live and work for demon lord Feera, leader of the wraith class.

  Naria still hadn’t shown any capacity for demonic talent beyond a limited ability to turn wraith, her gifts of healing a well-kept secret that would only further have distanced her from her Dark World brethren. Unless she showed some sign of dark talent before her twenty-fifth cycle, she would be sent to Wyrn, the chaos moon, a place that even demons feared go. She had less than a cycle to figure out a future on Dark World, and as time progressed, she grew more and more fearful that Wyrn would soon be her future.

  Unfortunately for Naria, the only area she excelled in—academics—was not recognized as a true calling. She sighed, depressed and angered that her short time in the light had been tainted by thoughts of her doomed future.

  “Let’s leave here,” she said to Carinna. “It’s almost time for dinner anyway.”

  Carinna agreed and, as one, the sisters moved past the prison and the militant courtyard, past the training fields and through dark, curling trees toward the rock-walled house of Lord Demise. Small winged serpents hissed in welcome, nipping playfully as they passed. Naria smiled and waved to them as she climbed with her sister up the stairs to her father’s home.

  “Do you know anything more about why the strangers are here?” Naria couldn’t help but ask as they made their way into the house. Dark walls lit briefly with flame as they passed, then reverted to nothingness. The cold reached through the walls to comfort them, but Naria felt a painful shiver pass through her, hating the icy temperature of her world.

  “Really, Naria. If I didn’t know better I’d say you were interested, really interested.” Carinna’s eyes twinkled.

  “Stop.” Naria blushed. Unlike her half-sisters, who had taken their sexual pleasures many cycles ago, she had opted to stave off that portion of her life. She knew Carinna had finally succumbed to curiosity and dallied with an incubus last year to celebrate the twenty-second anniversary of her birth. Carinna said she’d enjoyed the experience, though it left her feeling somewhat unsatisfied so she didn’t return for more.

  Naria, on the other hand, wanted something she couldn’t quite understand. And she felt no attraction for the cruel and blatant sexual males of her kind.

  Her sister studied her curiously. “Father learned that the prisoners had been trying to avoid a Meklen ship, for some reason or another.”

  “I hate the Meklens.” A deep voice boomed from the darkness of the dining hall. Several dark forms slithered out of the way as Naria and her sister joined their father at the table. “How lovely to see my daughters this eve.” Lord Demise nodded and smiled, his sharp teeth reflected in the low flames burning on the walls.

  “Father.” Naria nodded somberly.

  Carinna immediately shimmered back into her wraith form.

  He nodded his approval. “Lord Feera tells me you have talent for holding form, daughter.” He turned to Naria. “You know, though Feera presides over Mrunde, he let Carinna work on Lysst at my behest. He does an excellent job managing the wraiths and haunts in Dark World. You might think of giving it a try.”

  Naria said nothing though she wanted to cringe at thoughts of working on the death moon, or worse, living as a wraith full time.

  “I saw that Naria.” Lord Demise frowned as he tore into the plate that suddenly appeared before him, giving his daughter a mental slap.

  She refused to flinch, accustomed to accepting pain, Lord Demise’s means of expressing fatherly devotion. She stared at him, confused at the odd affection she felt while a taint of revulsion passed over her as she watched him devour the still writhing red flesh of a necthyt sitting on his plate.

  Despite his demonic traits, she understood why her mother had succu
mbed to his charm. Her father had a unique appeal all his own. He stood tall and slim with dark black hair and black eyes in an otherwise colorless face. At the moment, his large, black wings lay flat, draped over the chair at his back like a large cape. His hands and feet held recessed talons, now exposed as he ripped into the flesh on his plate.

  When he smiled, even in grim satisfaction, his face darkened into a handsomeness that would have made him a wonderful incubus had he been so inclined. Naria heard rumors that the demon and devel women still chasing her father met with the same terrible fate her mother had. Xeche, Demise’s current wife, cared for her demon lord with an obsession bordering on madness, an impressive display of lust and pride befitting a Lordess of her station.

  “Yes, Naria?” Her father had seen her watching him. His plate was now empty, and he fastidiously wiped away the blood and tissue clinging to his talons.

  “I was just noticing how handsome you are, Father.”

  He laughed, a sound that echoed around the room. “Quite so.” He smiled and snapped his fingers. She and Carinna now had two tame plates of Lysst fruits and nuts.

  Her father could be cruel, evil, and angry. And he could be loving.

  Naria sighed and ate her dinner, once again consumed with guilt for wanting to leave the only family she’d ever known.

  Lord Demise sighed to himself as he stared at Naria, the elder daughter of his only obsession. He should never have taken her mother, Zena, to bed, but he’d been so filled with lust at first sight of her that he’d been unable to control himself. He’d used every ounce of his estimable persuasion, and the offworlder had succumbed with an insatiable carnal hunger than fed his own.

  The spitting image of his beloved, Naria had a tall frame and slender build, her womanly form not as pronounced as Xeche’s but lusted after by his soldiers all the same. Naria’s blue-black hair glittered like polished devel stone, her eyes an unfathomable pool that shimmered from purple to black and all the colors in between when she allowed her emotions to rule.

  He studied her with her Carinna, aware of their difference and similarities. Though the girls had different coloring, there could be no doubt they were blood sisters. Both had an affinity for the light, even though Carinna tried so hard to fight it. Naria, on the other hand, made no effort to disguise her interest.

  She picked gently at the round, juicy fruit on her plate. She still had yet to show any aptitude for the darkness of their world, and he’d begun to worry. She would have made a better succubus than Xeche, truth be told. As he’d overheard many times, her exotic features beckoned a second and third glance. Like her mother, Naria possessed an allure that drew men, regardless of race.

  Xeche would have a fit should Naria consider becoming a sex demon. At least that headache would never come to fruition. Naria was too self-conscious to bare her body as freely as the succubae did.

  The girl didn’t like spirits and the incorporeal state, didn’t desire pain and the ability to bestow it. She hated the dark, disliked blood and entrails, and always tried to find the good in others. He frowned.

  “Father?” Naria dabbed at her lips, so polite and tidy.

  So like her mother in so many ways. “Naria, you’re eating. Give it a little mess.” He looked to her sister and saw Carinna freeze. She’d been mirroring her sister. “Never mind.”

  No matter how much he might wish it, both girls had their mother’s blood. Zena had once been a prisoner on Dark World. Thinking of her imprisonment shifted his thoughts to his newest captives. And to one stubborn offworlder in particular. “I’m sure both of you have heard rumors of our new prisoners.”

  He noted the keen interest in Naria’s face and thought it most intriguing that she tried to hide it, blocking her thoughts from his mental probe.

  “Rumors?” Carinna asked.

  He answered, “The offword males, five in all, come from Nearworld space. They supposedly landed here for no other reason than to escape death.”

  “Will you let them go then, Father?” Naria asked, her naiveté disturbing.

  “Go?” He scowled, and his vision turned red, like his eyes. “Naria, mind your tongue,” he growled. “Of course not. In fact, on the morrow, I will give one of the prisoners to Bayna. You’re more than invited to watch. Perhaps that will stir your inborn gift, hmm?”

  Naria’s eyes widened and turned from a deep purple to the mottled hues of a prism. “Which one will you give her, Father?”

  “Why do you ask?” He didn’t like her tone, any more than he liked her disturbing ability to block his probe.

  “It’s just a bet that we made,” Carinna said quickly, and Naria’s eyes returned to normal, her thick lashes sweeping downward. “I bet Naria a day’s chores that the golden-haired male would be the first to go.”

  At mention of the mulish man, his thoughts darkened. “No, he’s mine. Bayna has chosen the half-blooded Fenturi from the other cell. I believe her sisters will soon join her once the man has been broken.”

  Naria frowned. “Why is the blond separated from the others?”

  He shot her a sharp look but could detect nothing more than curiosity. “His mind is much stronger than the others. I have not yet been able to reach him.”

  Naria blinked in astonishment. “Truly?”

  “I don’t understand it. The male is a puzzle.” He’d tried everything from inducing friendly hallucinations to hellacious visions but could find nothing to allow him entrance into the offworlder’s mind. Even physical torture hadn’t done more than earn a few grunts of pain before the light-haired man lost consciousness.

  “Perhaps I could try,” Naria offered.

  He stared at her in disbelief, aware of Carinna’s wide-eyes. Naria had never before expressed a desire to torture anyone. She wouldn’t inflict pain on even the smallest creastone.

  “You? If a demon lord of the highest power cannot breach the mortal’s defenses, what makes you think you could?”

  Naria stared at him with her intense eyes, eyes that gave him hope when they turned as black as his. Wanting more than anything for his daughter to join him in Dark World’s hierarchy but wary of false expectations, he asked her a simple question. “Why?”

  “It’s time I found something I could do to serve Dark World.” She sounded so earnest. “My time here is closing fast.” Determination lit her fine features. “I have yet to experiment with mental torture. But Father, you know I’ve some skill with mental blocks and probes. Perhaps a challenge like this is just what I need to jump-start my abilities.”

  He probed for signs of deceit but could find none. “Very well.” He hadn’t lived for more than five hundred cycles by being trusting, but his desire to have Naria working by his side on Lysst outweighed his vigilance. “But I’ll be watching you every step of the way.”

  ***

  Later that night in the room they shared when visiting their father, Naria and Carinna lay awake staring at the damp ceiling above them.

  “What are you about, Naria?” Carinna’s suspicion didn’t bode well.

  “Nothing at all. Just trying to find my place in this world.”

  “Utter damnation.” Carinna let out a huff. “You just want to get closer to the light-haired captive. Admit it.” She paused, and Naria felt her sister’s beady stare through the darkness. “Oh, I see. You think he can get you out of here.”

  Naria would admit no such thing. After much badgering, Carinna finally gave up and fell asleep. But Naria remained awake, her entire mind and body tingling with anticipation. Something about the stranger called to her. And maybe, just maybe, she could find someone to help her off of this miserable world.

  -2-

  “Where do you suppose Jace is? Do you think he’s okay?” Mikhel asked in a low voice.

  They’d been imprisoned for three days, and his body felt stiff from the abuse they’d suffered at the hands of some large blackened creatures with fists like rocks and teeth like small blades.

  Before anyone could answer,
the cell door opened and the four remaining crewmen of the SpaceStalker hastily stood to face this new threat. Their tormenter entered and nodded to them, polite, as usual.

  “Good to see you’re all still with us,” Lord Demise said in a deep, smooth voice. “You will be glad to know your friend is alive if not well.” The demon raised a long-fingered hand that ended in sharp nails and studied his claws before glancing up once more. His dark eyes blazed when they rested on Nesham.

  Castor stepped forward. “We told you why we had to land. Can’t you just give us back our ship and let us go? At least let our friend go. We’ve done nothing to you.” He sounded frustrated. They’d been beaten and stuck in this dark cell with little to eat and no word of Jace until today. Still, it took guts to order around a creature so beyond anything Mikhel had ever seen before.

  Demise smiled, showing pointy white teeth, and Castor took an uneasy step back. Even fearless Koneru seemed to tense in Lord Demise’s presence. The cape at the demon’s back moved, and Mikhel and the others watched in astonishment as the man flexed not a cape, but two expansive black wings.

  “You.” Demise pointed to Nesham. “Come with me, lest I kill the rest of them in your absence.”

  Nesham turned to Castor with regret in his sad eyes and approached their dark captor. Yet Mikhel read the aggression in his fellow Fenturi. When Nesham got within a few feet of Demise, he shot out in a burst of speed and knocked the demon to his knees. Mikhel tackled Demise the rest of the way to the ground, while the others piled on as well. Out of the corner of his eye Mikhel saw Nesham dart out the doorway into the depths of chaos.

  The distraction didn’t last, unfortunately. A glaring pain ripped through his mind, and Mikhel writhed on the floor in agony next to his crewmates.

  The demon lord shook himself and flexed his wings in agitation. Instead of cursing them, he gave an evil grin and laughed.

  Hel and darkness—we’re in real trouble now.