Bound By Darkness: Eternally Mated Novel Read online

  Oh shit. Not a good sign.

  Lyzander swallowed. A sharp pain shot down his throat, and then he looked at himself. To his horror, he was covered in red. What the hell had happened to him? Again, a pain throbbed in his throat and he brought a shaky hand upward. His brain took a second to connect to what his fingers felt. A hole on the left side of his neck. Not a hole, as he soon discovered. Something or someone had ripped a gaping wound into his neck.

  The door swung open, and his mistress waltzed in on a pair of black stiletto boots.

  “Well look at you. It appears you have a little something running down your neck there.” She pointed and feigned concern.

  “Fuck. You.” It was all he could do to ground out the words.

  She squatted in front of him, somehow balancing on the narrow heel of her boots and flashed a fanged grin. “I must apologize. Your blood is so tasty, I simply lost control.”

  His stomach boiled and threatened to spill its contents, not that he had eaten in a while. He should be glad he couldn’t remember her feeding off him so violently.

  “I have some good news though. Once you heal, I’m moving you to my personal servant status.” She shrugged. “Of course, you’ll still be for sale, but you will do my bidding. As long as you behave, you’ll have free movement in the compound.”

  “I might escape,” he managed.

  She laughed so hard she teetered on her boots. “You can try, but you should know there is no way out of Lulerain. Go ahead. Run. I’ll simply bring you back and make your life more miserable.” She dug her painted nails into his cheek. “You might as well resign yourself to the fact that you will be mine for eternity.”

  On her last word, his stomach contents splashed over her black shiny boots.

  * * *

  Kelana paid the bartender for a room upstairs, deciding it was best to stay the night so she could go into town in the morning. With each rickety step she climbed, her muscles grew more tired. It had been a long journey getting here, and she had let herself grow weak. Soon, there would be no choice left. She would have to get laid.

  She flung open her door and crossed into a small square room. A twin bed covered in a red quilt took up nearly all the space and she literally could take three steps from the bed to the bathroom. At least it had a bathroom and not a toilet in the corner. Thank goodness for small favors.

  Tossing her pack on the bed, she peeled off her dusty leathers and walked into the bathroom. Shoving the pink curtain aside, she turned on the water and stepped in. One thing about Hell, the water was hot and the pressure enough to sand blast your skin. It was as close to heaven as she could get at the moment. With soap in hand, she busied herself with lathering away the day’s grime when she suddenly heard music to her ears. The couple next door was in the throes of sex. Kelana stopped and concentrated on their voices. A woman’s mewl of pleasure followed by a gruff narration of what he was going to do to her.

  Kelana’s nipples hardened.

  Her skin became overly sensitive as their desires filled their room then seeped into the shower with her via the vent above her. It might be enough to give her the charge she needed, along with a little self-pleasure.

  She traced a finger over her nipple and moaned.

  The noises next door grew louder, and the bed banged against her wall. Her keen senses knew they were close to their climax, so she dipped her hand between her thighs and circled her nub. Electricity sizzled and heated up her core. She leaned back under the spray and allowed it to prickle her breasts. The scent of sexual lust reached her and her muscles tightened. Her skin began to glow. Something that always happened as she neared orgasm. The woman next door screamed, the male grunted, and Kelana’s own release let loose in a tidal wave of bliss. Her body somewhat recharged, she finished her shower by shampooing her hair.

  Moments later, a much cleaner and happier Kelana pulled on a tee and yoga pants then plopped into bed. Surprisingly, the mattress was comfortable. Or she was simply too tired to care. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she drifted into a much-needed sleep.

  Tall men with wings and swords burst through the door. Fyraith, Kelana’s grandmother, rushed toward them.

  “We are unarmed.”

  Her mother, Prislea, shoved Kelana under the bed. “Do not speak, child. No matter what happens, you must remain here until it is safe to come out. Promise me.” Her mother left the bedroom to join Fyraith.

  “I’m half human,” her mother said.

  “We have our orders.” The man swung and Kelana stared in horror as her mother’s head parted from her body. Blood sprayed and landed within inches of Kelana. Her grandmother’s gurgled cry filled the room, and another angel shoved a dagger into the older succubus’s heart before...

  Heavy footsteps entered the room, and from her hiding place, Kelana saw a pair of boots. She held her breath and tried to still her tears. Her mother had made her promise to behave.

  “Where is the girl?” one called out.

  They were looking for her.

  A voice drifted like a melody from close by. “The child is not here. Perhaps she is with family elsewhere.”

  “Our orders are clear. Her father wants her dead. Are you certain she isn’t in here?”

  “I’m well aware of what our orders are, and do not ever question me again. The child is not here.” Kelana clung to the soothing voice and listened as he walked away. As the other two men walked out the front door of her home in the human world, the stranger stopped and turned. Kelana could only see his legs, but his whispers in a foreign tongue filled the room. Soon the blood and bone turned to ash, the massacre of her family only left in her memory.

  “Wait until sunrise child, and then leave here. Go back to Hell where you will be safe.” Then he was gone.

  Kelana woke with a start. Her lungs burned from gasping for air. She pushed damp hair off her face. “What the hell?” The nightmares were nothing new. She had been having them since the incident happened when she was eight, and that was twenty years ago. What was different was the man. She had never recalled that voice. The one that commanded her to wait until sunrise to come out. Could he have been speaking directly to her? He had referred to her as child, but it was impossible. He had to be something her imagination made up. Someone to help ease the wounds she had lived with for so many years. The angels that had come that night were there to kill her. Ordered by her father, that much had been clear. The guilt for her family’s death brought stinging tears to her eyes.

  Had she never been born, her mother and grandmother would still be alive. Kelana needed to follow through with this mating. Doing so would make her stronger.

  Her throat parched, Kelana reached for a bottle of water on the tiny nightstand and sucked it back. Looking at the clock, it was early morning and the suns would be rising soon. She crawled out of bed, stretched her stiff neck then pulled on a short black skirt, a white tank, and a pair of boots. No warrior bad-ass look for her today. She wanted to appear like a wealthy demon who expected others to do her bidding.

  After shoving her belongings into her pack, she headed out the door and down the back stairs that led directly outside. The two suns rose over the horizon and colored the sky vibrant red. It was going to be another scorcher, but then again there never was a cold day in Hell. She made her way down the street, which was already gearing up for the day. Vendors set up to peddle their wares from body parts to wicked potions. Some sold services like the demon she searched for. She needed a broker to get the angel out of Lulerain because there was no way she could go in. Her damned angel glow would be the death of her. Also, not knowing how they captured the angel put her in danger as well. Whatever they used on him might also work on her. A chance she wasn’t willing to take.

  Kelana approached a demon sitting with his feet propped up on a table. He wore a leather vest, torn jeans, and picked his nails with a blade. He didn’t even offer the courtesy of looking up at her when she approached.

  “I only accept pa
ying clients.”

  “And what makes you think I’m not willing to pay a very high price for what I want?”

  He finally looked up. “And what do you want?”

  She placed her palms on the table and leaned forward enough to give him a glimpse of cleavage. “The first is confidential.” She eyed the tent behind him, and he followed her gaze.

  Slipping his dagger back into its sheath, he swung his feet to the ground. “Follow me.” He stepped to the tent and held the flap open. She strolled through and took a seat, making sure her skirt hiked up as she crossed her legs.

  “I’ll get right to it. There is an angel being kept in Lulerain and I want him.”

  His black brow arched. “You want him, as in for the night or to keep?”

  She did a quick calculation. No demon would sell him outright. He was too valuable. The money his captor must be making had to be astronomical. “Twenty-four hours and he must be brought to me. No one is to know about my involvement.”

  “Obviously. Your glow will get you dead.” He reached for a stack of papers and laid them out in front of him. “What you are asking for...” He scribbled as he shook his head, raven braids swaying. “I’m not sure you have enough gold for.”

  “Let me worry about that.” She pulled a small pouch from her sack and dropped it on the table. “Your fee.”

  He studied her then picked up the pouch and opened it. “Holy shit. How many are in here?”

  “Fifty. That equals one hundred grand.” She sat back and folded her hands in her lap. “I’ll pay triple that for the angel, but it comes with stipulations. He must be in perfect condition. I don’t want him drugged either. He belongs to me alone for the entire twenty-four hours at a place of my choosing. One guard will be allowed but must be stationed outside.” She could easily take on at least one demon. “And I will return him in whatever condition I see fit.”

  He scribbled on the paper and looked up. “Anything else?”

  “I think that will do.”

  “And what if Aezyla inquires what your plans are with the angel?”

  She smiled. “Tell her I plan to make his life a living hell.”

  4

  Lyzander scrubbed his own blood off the floor with a toothbrush. A duty assigned to him after that bitch demon had ripped his throat out then got pissed because he dirtied her marble. He grabbed the bucket next to him and slid it forward just as the door opened, and Aezyla herself waltzed in.

  He inwardly cringed but refused to allow her to bear witness.

  “Lyzander, I have wonderful news.” She stopped in front of him and waited for him to look up and address her.

  “Yes, mistress?” He tossed the brush into the bucket.

  “A wealthy succubus has paid a fortune to have you for twenty-four hours. Get up.”

  He pushed himself to his feet, adjusting the loose-fitting cotton pants she had given him to wear.

  “You will get cleaned up. She wants you in perfect condition. Clothes will be laid out for you.” She placed a palm on his chest. “You will cater to her every whim. We want her to become a repeat client. Now, go.”

  Lyzander didn’t hesitate. The thought of finally getting a shower had him practically running back to his room. Once inside, he noticed the jeans, white shirt, and navy blazer laid out on the bed. A pair of black boots stood next to the chair. Damn, he’d not been given things this nice since he’d been here. He hurried and showered, anxious to finally get the blood off him. When finished, he dressed then sat in his chair and waited. Within minutes, Aezyla entered.

  “My, you look good enough to eat. Stand,” she commanded.

  He rose to tower over her and she adjusted his shirt collar. “Now, just because you’re leaving Lulerain, don’t get any ideas. You know there isn’t a demon for miles who will help you get out of Hell.”

  I’m leaving Lulerain? Could he somehow escape or get word out? If he could get to Ashley or the palace, he could get out.

  “Hold out your wrists,” she commanded, and he obeyed. A pair of silver cuffs snapped onto his wrists. “I wouldn’t want you trying to take out my guard.”

  Immediately he felt his power, what little he had down here, rush out of him. Aezyla had made sure to always keep him with only enough so he could heal, but not too much that he could cause damage.

  “Come along. You will have an escort into town.” She walked him to the door. “I hope you can perform on your own as your mistress demanded no drugs. Of course, being a succubus she should be able to get you to beg her for sex.” Aezyla laughed.

  They walked down a long corridor until it opened into a courtyard where a demon orgy was in full swing. Lyzander tried not to notice. It seemed that’s all demons did. Kill and fuck. Admittedly, what else was there? A large Sitori, who he recognized as the one who had been with him in the sex room, stepped forward.

  “He’s ready. Don’t be late and make sure you follow orders,” she commanded.

  The demon bowed his head. “It will be done.” Then he slapped another cuff with a chain attached to Lyzander’s right wrist. “This way.” He led Lyzander across the courtyard and beyond a stone wall that surrounded Aezyla’s fortress. Lyzander had always been led to believe once in Lulerain, there was no way out, so he found this interesting.

  “How is it you can come and go here?” he asked, not expecting a reply. To his surprise, he got one.

  “Not all of us are locked in here. Any can come and go, it’s only those condemned here that can’t leave.”

  “I see. Always a surplus of torturers then.”

  The demon smiled. “Money talks and what demon doesn’t like to mete out a little torture from time to time?”

  True. Lyzander paid attention to every detail as they passed several small huts. Emaciated demons of different species scurried for scraps of food that littered the ground. Fear rested in their eyes, and Lyzander could well imagine the horrors inflicted on them. Many of the same had been done to him, and he held a new respect for the captive demons. How many of them were here that didn’t belong? Who decided the punishment? Lulerain was supposed to be a prison for the worst of the worst, and if these demons fit that description then they truly belonged.

  When they came to a large stone hut, a demon with an impressive sword stepped out and hailed them. His companion stopped and spoke in a low tone so Lyzander couldn’t hear. Soon after, the enormous iron gate opened, and they stepped through. When they did, everything went black. A change in pressure, and then a rush of air swept past before daylight once again greeted his weary eyes.

  Interesting. A sort of portal system in and out of Lulerain.

  His guard led him down an old-fashioned cobblestone street. Vendors were setting up tables and tents to peddle their wares. “Perhaps we can stop for a little shopping?” he joked. His guard flashed him a dirty look but said nothing. No doubt he expected the slave to be seen and not heard.

  * * *

  Kelana paced the foyer of the luxurious penthouse she had rented and glanced at the clock for the hundredth time. The angel was due here in less than half an hour. She went down her mental checklist again. Weapons were stashed, along with a special spell used to remove slave bands. There was not one doubt in her mind that this angel would come with one or two attached. Escaping with the angel didn’t bother her as much as the thought of mating. Would she be able to go through with it?

  Her hatred of the holy beings certainly didn’t help. However, she reminded herself it was nothing more than sex. Something she had done with strangers more times than she cared to count. She found herself wondering what he looked like. Kelana had only ever seen the fallen and the glimpse she had gotten of those who had murdered her family. She had been so young and it had been dark; she wouldn’t be picking those men out of any lineup. She was going to have to rely on her investigative work to find them.

  A knock brought her back to the present. She smoothed a hand down the tight black dress that clung to every curve and checked her appea
rance in the mirror as she passed by. Opening the door, she was greeted by the demon she had paid to bring her her prize. He tipped his head.

  “The angel you requested. His guard will be posted across the street. I will be back in twenty-four hours.” And then he shoved the most handsome man ever in front of her.

  Regaining her composure, she grabbed the angel’s hand and pulled him inside, quickly slamming the door behind her. They stood in the foyer and stared at each other. His long blond hair was loose and hung to a pair of broad shoulders. Eyes bluer than the purist sapphire stared at her, and then his luscious lips parted.

  “Mistress. I am here to fulfill your needs.”

  God, that voice. It stirred something deep inside her and was the most sensual thing she had ever heard. It caressed her skin like an attentive lover and caused heat to flare between her thighs. The succubus part of her snapped awake and started swirling out her desire.

  His nostrils flared and his eyes widened. “I was told you were a succubus, but my owner left out the little detail about you also being part angel.” His perfect brows dipped down. “How is it she let you live?”

  “She has no idea who I am. It’s why I hired a handler to take care of my business.”

  “And what is your business?”

  She glared at him. Had they beat him so much he had gone daft? The thought pissed her off, and the fact that it did made her even angrier. “Umm, obviously I am a sex demon, and I need to refuel.” She eyed the two plain silver bands. One on each of his wrists. It would probably be to her benefit to leave them on until she had at least gotten what she needed from him.

  “The fact that you are indeed a succubus is quite evident.”

  “Sorry. Do my pheromones have an effect on you?” Why the hell was she sorry? Fucking him was on her agenda, and after getting a look at him, she had to squeeze her thighs together to stave off the burning.

  He cocked his head. “Does it matter? You paid for my services and here I am.” He shucked off the jacket he had on, and she couldn’t help noticing how the white shirt molded across a pair of broad shoulders or how he filled out a pair of jeans. She couldn't stop herself from stepping closer to him. His scent, one of fresh linen and ocean breeze made her want to rip his clothes off and lick every inch of him. She had no idea angels also gave off such sex appeal, and they claimed sex demons were bad.