Bound. Jen Colly

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СКАЧАТЬ lady lay curled on her side facing him, a downy white comforter tucked under her satin-clad arm. Vampires didn’t die easily, a gift to his species from whatever god had created them, but if he drove the blade directly into her heart, she’d be dead in a few minutes. Unless, of course, she’d just fed.

      Roll her onto her back. Stab her. It would be that easy. Again he twisted the dagger in his fist, readying himself to finish the deed swiftly. His knees touched the edge of the mattress. Weapon raised in the air, he reached out to move her.

      A heavy body crashed into him, tackled him solidly from shoulder to hip. He landed on the floor hard, his breath momentarily squeezed from his lungs. What the hell?

      Face smashed into the carpet, he couldn’t see a thing. The sharp jab of a knee ground into the center of his back. Morley tried to lift his head, to take a look at the man he hadn’t realized was in the room, but the man planted his forearm across the back of his neck, reunited him with the thick carpet.

      Covers rustled, followed by a soft gasp; then a sleepy feminine voice called out into the darkness. “Are you all right?” Lady Arianne was awake.

      The man kept him pinned to the floor and didn’t answer her, and all Morley could see was the carpet, his fallen dagger, and chair legs. The soft snick of a bedside lamp switch flooded the room with a mellow light, and a pair of bare feminine feet padded into sight.

      “My lady,” Morley said, the words a labor with the weight of the man on his back. “I meant you no harm. Please, have mercy on me.”

      “Mercy?” The lady reached down to retrieve his dagger from the floor. “You Spirit into my bedroom at midday with a knife in your hand, and you dare to beg me for mercy?”

      He tried again, not above begging. “Please. The knife was just…I would never—”

      “Enough,” she snapped, and the harshness of her tone stunned him into silence. The man above him shifted, and Morley suddenly realized that the single word, sharp and final, had been meant for the brute on top of him.

      Morley cried out as the burning pain of a knife sliced deep into his side, and then the blade twisted cruelly as it left his body. The gaping hole was draining a good amount of his blood, and with it, any remaining strength.

      “No need to kill him,” she said to the other man. “The captain is on his way.”

      Within seconds his body had lost the ability to fight, his muscles weak, unresponsive. His wound throbbed, and he longed to curl up where he lay. The man shoved him as he stood and backed away, leaving Morley sprawled on the floor, his blood seeping into the lady’s carpet.

      Morley wouldn’t die from the wound, and that was the point of a bleeding. Drained and weak, his body would put every ounce of strength into repairing itself from the inside out, and unless he fed, he would remain in a debilitated state. But this man had twisted the knife as it left his body, and the act felt personal. Whoever this man was, Guardian or servant, he was vicious.

      “Give me the knife,” the lady commanded his attacker in a hushed voice. “Now go.”

      The door burst open, and the rush of multiple footsteps shook the floor beneath him. Guardians surrounded him, hauled him to his feet, secured and stabilized him.

      “Excellent timing, Captain,” she said.

      The captain, a beastly sized man, surged toward her only to stop short when he saw the lady held a bloody knife in her hand.

      “Are you hurt?” the captain asked as he took the knife from her hand. Lady Arianne faced him, her mauve satin nightdress sweeping the floor, black hair curling around her arms in loose waves.

      She shook her head, proud and seemingly unaffected. “No. I am unharmed.”

      “My lady,” Morley begged again. “Please let me speak.”

      Chin tipped, shoulders squared, she might as well be wearing her crown with an army at her back. The woman was fearless. “Is there anything you have to say that could make me believe you had no intention of murdering me?”

      “I didn’t follow through.”

      “The end result matters little when the intention is clear. Guardians, take him away,” she ordered. “Captain, a word.”

      The Guardians dragged him away, across the plush carpet and out the door. It was late, and as they passed through the larger well-traveled corridors, no vampires roamed about. All was quiet.

      The two men hauled him down the old stone stairway to the jail beneath the arena. He wanted to struggle, to fight. No use. His strength depleted, he could barely pull his feet beneath him for the next step. Even if he’d had the ability, one man would never triumph over two Guardians. Decades of training had made them terribly good at their job.

      With a jarring halt, they paused before a cell. The end cell. Three walls of iron bars, one solid cement wall. This was the cell reserved for those with an execution date.

      A hard shove to his right shoulder sent Morley toppling into the jail cell and rolling across the floor. Dirt-coated stone dug into his knees and forearms as he tried to stop the momentum. With a heavy squeal, the door shut, and the Guardian’s key slid the lock home before he could scramble to his knees.

      “You’ve got about twelve hours to live,” a Guardian said, no longer concerned with him as they walked away.

      The crunching of the scattered gravel grinding into the dirt followed them. The fading sound left behind a strange emptiness. He didn’t bother attempting to stand. What was the point when his death crept closer minute by minute? He crawled to the only wall, collapsed with his back against the cold cement, head on his knees, and arms curled around his legs.

      He should have known he’d end up here, most with his talent did. High-priced jobs were always on the table for those rare few with the ability to take their Spirit form and disappear momentarily.

      Like an idiot, he’d jumped at the chance to rake in the cash. What did he have to show for his efforts? A gaping hole in his side and a death sentence.

      The initial silence had gone, replaced by the misery of prison. Dripping water hit the floor somewhere to his left, feet shuffled to his right, and the occasional moan echoed off every wall. The plunk of a stone hitting the floor nearby brought his head up.

      He wasn’t alone. A lean man sat inside his cell. Morley glanced around frantically, certain the man hadn’t been here a moment ago. The slashing angle of a shadow covered the top half of his body, but he was real. With an arm casually propped on his knee, the man seemed completely at ease in this filthy place. He tossed another stone.

      “You had a job to do, and you failed,” the man accused. “Lady Arianne should be dead.”

      “How did you know?” Morley asked, squinting his eyes in an effort to see through the darkness.

      “Jefford Morley,” his cellmate said, a smooth arrogance in his voice. “You’d better talk.”

      Who was he? This was not the same man who’d put him up to the job. Perhaps a Guardian had been planted in here in the hopes that he would tell a fellow villain what he might not reveal to the Guardians. He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I don’t know anything. How could СКАЧАТЬ