Lord of the Abyss

"Liliana."



Laughing, Liliana poured two more glasses. "Here, you go take it to them. If he asks where I am, tell him I'm slaving over his damn lushberry pie." It was dark outside, time for sleep, but he wanted his pie.



"So impertinent. Trouble, you are, trouble." Shaking her head, Jissa pushed through the door with the glasses.



A tiny chittering sound came right on cue. Liliana turned, put her finger to her lips. "Shh. You're not supposed to be in the kitchen."



Her little friend sat up on his hind legs and made the most arresting face - as if saying that he was a very clean creature, thank you very much. "Well, of course you are," she said in apology. "I've seen your fastidious ways." Liliana didn't find that as strange as she should have - the mouse had magic of its own. A tiny magic, but magic all the same.



"Lushberries are not something you'd like," she said, and, when his face fell, picked up the tiny but perfect pastry crust she'd baked the same time she'd done the large one. "Here, my friend. Now shoo before Jissa catches you."



Nose twitching with excitement, the mouse - its bones no longer so sharp against its skin - dragged away its spoils as she washed her hands and returned to mix a rich sweet cheese with the pulp before pouring it into the pastry. That done, all she had to do was put it into the oven for but a quarter hour. She took the time to whip up the cream, since His Lordship had decreed he'd eat the pie the instant it left the oven.



When the door opened, the caress of lushberries lay heavy and mouth-watering in the air. "Jissa, I think the pie will be - " It registered then, the scent that had come in with the opening of the door.



Darkness and heat and something quintessentially male.



Keeping her eyes resolutely on the cream, she said, "You're in my domain now."



Instead of arguing as she'd expected, he walked to the oven, made as if to open it. "Stop!" she ordered. "If you open it now, you'll let out all the heat."



Growling low in his throat, he came over to stand beside her at the counter, staring at the cream. She knew what he wanted even before he tried to dip a finger into it. Scooting away the dish, she shot him a scowl. "If you don't behave, I'll put salt in your pie."



He shifted closer, went for the cream again.



Glaring, she jerked it away once more.



He stepped over.



She looked up, intending to tell him to stop it when she was caught by the laughter in his eyes. He was teasing her again. That knowledge turned her a little mad, mad enough to lift the whisk and touch it to the tip of his nose. "There."



He blinked, raised his finger to his nose and wiped off the cream. No jagged black tips, she thought in shock - his hands were bare of any trace of armor below the wrists. Then he licked the cream off his finger, and suddenly, the game wasn't a game anymore, her thoughts scattering like so many marbles across a floor.



Forcing her head back to the bowl, she began to whisk with all her strength. Maybe that was why she didn't notice him move, why she didn't realize he'd trapped her with his gauntleted arms on either side of hers until his hands came over hers, one on the edge of the bowl to hold it in place, the other closing around the hand that held the whisk.



She should've protested, should've pushed back, but she continued to whisk even as his body imprinted itself on her own. The sensation was indescribable. No man had ever touched her thus, had ever wanted to touch her thus.



Her heart grew heavy at the reminder that the Lord of the Black Castle had been trapped here his entire life. He didn't understand that there were women of stunning elegance and grace who would beg to come to his bed once he reclaimed his place as a prince of Elden. Beside them, she'd look the mountain troll her father had called her. Her pride shook under the blow, but she didn't pull away.



Because this man, with his way of looking at her as if she mattered, his way of touching her as if he'd like to do a whole lot more, captivated her. And she wasn't too proud to take the crumbs of his affection. Shame would strike later, she knew. But this moment when he was so hot and hard and strong around her, this moment was hers. To be kept like a jewel inside her heart, a treasure no one could steal from the ugly girl with the face of a wicked witch.



"You're very soft down here."



Jumping at the deep voice so close to her ear, it took her a second to process the meaning of his words. Her hand squeezed the metal of the whisk. "You think me fat?"



"I didn't say that." He pressed a little deeper into her, his own body created of harsh edges and taut muscle. "You're all bony angles - except here."



Her skin blazed. No matter how much flesh other parts of her body might need, one part was quite happy to remain round and plump. "That's not something it's polite to mention."



"Isn't it?" Tantalizingly close to her ear again, his breath hot and wicked. "I order you to eat more. I like the softness." Lips brushing her earlobe.



She might just end up naked on the bench if he continued on in this fashion. "The pie!" she said, grabbing for the lifeline. "I must take it out of the oven or it'll burn."



He pulled back at once - but she was almost certain she felt the brush of his mouth against her neck before he released her. Already regretting the loss of his touch, she picked up a thick cloth, opened the oven and removed the pie. Taking it to the counter, she put it carefully on top of a flat stone she'd placed there for that purpose.



The Lord of the Black Castle was beside her an instant later. "Give it to me."



She wanted to turn, breathe in the scent at the curve of his neck. "It'll taste much better after it has cooled a fraction," she managed to say.



"You are not lying to me, Liliana?" That gentle, dangerous tone he used very much on purpose to get what he wanted; his hand - hot, rough - coming to curve around her nape.



Before she could respond, his head jerked up. "I must go. The residents of the Abyss need a reminder of who rules them."



Liliana all but collapsed into a quivering puddle after he left. The man was potent. And she was playing a very dangerous game in allowing him to go as far as he'd done. If they went further, and then he discovered her identity...



"He won't hate me any less." It was a painful realization, but it freed her. "There is no happy outcome here for you, Liliana." So what did it matter if she stole a few moments of happiness on the road to Elden? If she allowed him to treat her as a desirable woman, though she knew she was no such thing? It made her a thief and a liar, but perhaps once she was dead or exiled, her father defeated, the Guardian of the Abyss would forgive her the deception.



Tears burned at the backs of her eyes and she might have given in to them had she not felt an ugly chill along her spine. The kind of chill that augured the proximity of dark blood sorcery. Stomach curdling with horror and rage, she pushed out of the kitchen and ran to the massive doorway of the Black Castle.



Bard appeared out of nowhere to stand in her way.



"Blood sorcery," she said, begging him to understand. "There is blood sorcery beyond." Terrible and vicious and fetid with evil.



The man blinked once. "You stay."



"No! You don't understand! This kind of blood sorcery - " tainted, putrid " - means someone is being sacrificed!"



A stolid expression. "You stay."



Liliana bit down on her tongue. Hard enough to spill blood. And then she whispered an incantation that had the giant slumping to the floor in a heap. "I'm sorry," she said as she bent to take a wicked curved knife from his belt. "You'll be awake again in no time." Pulling open one heavy door, she raced out into the black-as-black embrace of the night.



Chapter 10



Her feet, clad in thin embroidered slippers that had appeared in the kitchen a few hours ago, slammed down on sharp edges, rocks and branches as she ran through the agitated rustling of the Whispering Forest, almost slipped on the moss that covered the bridge that spanned the restless river, but she kept running, holding her skirt high above her ankles.



The lights of the village came into view. Twinkling and warm but for the haze of sulfurous magic. Fighting the urge to throw up, she ran pell-mell toward it, taking only enough care to ensure she didn't break her neck. For if she did, an innocent would die. Always, her father and his apprentices used innocents. Their blood was more vital they said. Richer. Purer. But not tonight, she vowed, not tonight!



Stumbling into the periphery of the village, she had to halt so she could pinpoint the location of the evil. Slicing a small line on her palm, but not allowing the blood to touch the earth lest it give her away, she whispered for the magic to rise, to seek out its dark kin. Her power hesitated in distaste. Innocents, she urged, innocent blood. Seek innocent blood.



No hesitation now. Her power winding through the village in a crackle of deepest red, with her running in its wake. Around houses shuttered up for the night and courtyards abandoned, through the deserted main street and onto the clear surrounds of the village green.



Her power hissed at the filth it saw, went to wrap itself around the man's neck in a choking hold, but Liliana drew it back. Wait. Wait. We'll have only once chance. Dark blood sorcerers, distended with power stolen from those who couldn't defend themselves, were stronger than those like Liliana, who used only their personal reserves.



This one was a thin, handsome man, his face likely the reason he'd been able to persuade the young village maid at his feet to meet him in the thick black of night. She lay unconscious on the grass now, the sorcerer chanting incantations above her, a serrated blade in hand. That blade, Liliana knew, would go into the girl's abdomen. A slow, torturous death, her blood seeping out drop by drop while her murderer kept her silent even in her agony and grew drunk on the force of her life, her death.



Power blazed in the air as the sorcerer made a sigil above the girl and Liliana realized he was one of the old ones for all that his face appeared young. Old and powerful. It was foolish, part of her said, to give up her life for this one girl when she had come to save a kingdom. If Liliana died, the Lord of the Black Castle would not remember, would not return.