Seduce the Darkness (Alien Huntress #4)(82)
Author: Gena Showalter

"Not always. I only discovered the power a day ago, so I’m not exactly good at it." He sat at the edge of the chair, fairly panting with excitement. "Can you wish a person’s death?”

“No," she said, because no way would she do that for him. "Why do you care, anyway?"

"In all my many years, there has only ever been one other I could not read." He settled back, excitement gone as if it had never been, disappointment in its place. "Can you guess who that was?"

Dread snaked through her. "Your mom?" she asked hopefully, though she knew that wasn’t the answer.

"A female named Fiona. My tormentor. She was nefreti." Bride was proud of herself. She didn’t flinch. "What’s that?”

“Someone with too much power. Someone who must die.”

“And you think I’m a nefreti?"

"No," he said. "She hummed with so much energy, it was like a song in my blood every time she neared. That is not the case with you. However, none of my warriors can find her because she, too, can read minds. She knows when they are coming."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"If I can’t read your mind, that must mean she cannot. That means I can use you against her. I just have to figure out how."

Three days passed with agonizing slowness. Bride was allowed to see Devyn only once a day to feed. She was blindfolded until she got there, ensuring the location remained hidden, and they weren’t allowed to speak to each other. A guard always accompanied her to ensure she behaved. She’d been told that for every word she uttered, Devyn would receive ten lashes.

The silence was killing her. He was suffering, she could see it in his face. His amber eyes were dull, and bruises had formed under them. Every day he was dirtier and a whole lot shakier than the last.

She realized now, he’d never had a plan. He just hadn’t wanted her hurt in a struggle. Whether he knew it or not, he loved her. Rather than bask in that knowledge as she should have been able to do, guilt was now her constant companion. Luxury for her, suffering for her husband.

Whenever she would finish drinking, having tried not to take more than a few sips, Devyn would keep his head tilted, silently urging her to take more. Maintaining her strength was important for finding a way out, but she just couldn’t weaken him more than he already was. He would sigh, kiss her, hug her tight, and then gently push her out of the cell.

Each time she tried to read his mind, or at the very least send her thoughts into his, but she was still capable of neither. Those powers supposedly belonged to her, damn it, but all she found were the thorns and fire. Trying to forcibly extract them was worse than when they sprang up from her emotions. It was like ripping her body in half.

She wanted to tell him she was going to get him out of here, not to worry, that she stripped and camouflaged herself when everyone was sleeping and searched the palace for the dungeon, as well as whatever was quashing Devyn’s powers. She wanted to assure him that she would find it, whatever she had to do, but she wasn’t sure she would succeed, and the words always died in her throat. They weren’t worth ten lashes.

After her meeting with Manus, she’d been given a spacious chamber with a large bed and lacy canopy. The walls were bare except for a painting of Manus. There was a marble vanity, which she now sat in front of, staring into the glass, wondering when to make her next move—and exactly what move to make.

"Good." Manus leaned against the room’s doorway, arms folded over the wide expanse of his chest. "You’re wearing the gown I had made for you."

Her eyes met his through the mirror, and her fingers clenched around the brush’s handle. "Yes." As if she would deny his wishes. It was a velvet dress that matched the cape he always wore. Black with gold trim. The material clung to her curves, soft and luscious. At his request, her hair had been curled and now hung down her back in shiny ringlets. "Word on the street is, you’re single. Maybe we should find you a companion," she said. So you’ll leave me the hell alone.

He had come to her once a day to "chat," mostly questioning her about fights she’d been in, how she’d hidden herself from humans for so long. To her surprise, he’d been a gentleman. Not because he liked her but because he thought to use her against Fiona, his enemy. Still. She didn’t want him getting any ideas about the two of them.

She sighed, remembering his other visits. He’d also had her wish for a few things—a meal to appear, her clothes to change on their own—testing the limits of her powers. For the meal, a human servant had tapped over his own feet, propelling into the room, falling and breaking his neck at their feet. For the outfit switch, her robe had brushed a lamp and caught fire. Bride wasn’t too happy with this latest power and was now terrified of using it.

"Why find another when you serve well enough?" he said. "Now, come. I have a surprise for you." He held out his hand, waiting.

Slowly she pushed to her feet and turned to face him. Her heart thundered with the need to best him, but she merely crossed the distance and took his hand. Cold steel, that’s what he felt like. "I want my husband released. McKell, too. They’re good men. I’ll take them to the surface, and you’ll never have to see them again."

"How many times must I tell you? I don’t want to discuss them." There was no room for argument in his tone. He ushered her into the next chamber. His. It was as ornate and lavish as hers, though it appeared uninhabited. The bedcovers were not rumpled, and clothes did not spill from the closet.

Her heart only decelerated when they exited into the hallway and headed for the alabaster columns leading into the ballroom. "You never want to discuss them," she muttered.

"Because the subject angers me. Bad things happen when I’m angry. Remember?" Like she’d forget. "Figured out how you’re going to use me yet?”

“No."

"What’s the holdup? ‘Cause I’m willing to bring her to you in exchange for my man."

"I’ve thought of that. However, while I think you can find her without her notice, I do not think you can best her in a fight. And I cannot send troops with you, because she would sense them."

Bride refused to give in to despair. There had to be a way.

A gaggle of voices greeted her ears. Then, the more she walked, the more those voices blended with the strains of music and clinking glasses. Even … moans? Usually all the entryways in the palace were open, easily accessible, but today—tonight?—the one into the ballroom was draped by more of that black velvet.

Manus pushed the material aside and urged her forward. Hesitant, she entered. And gasped. Vampires were everywhere. They held goblets filled with blood as they drank and laughed and danced. Naked humans lined the far wall, a buffet of choices. Males and females of every size and color. When they were chosen, they stepped forward and offered whatever body part was desired.