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“Wait.” Sychar turned to her.
Jelena sucked in a breath as his brilliant-turquoise gaze settled on her.
He reached for her hands and clasped them in his chilled ones. “I first want to thank this young lady for stepping in and saving me. If you hadn’t, I’m sure I wouldn’t have survived if things had gotten out of control.” After a brief, impersonal shake, he let her hands drop. He stepped back with a slight smile on his emaciated face. “Not sure what that thing was, or how you made it, but I’m glad you’re on our side.” He regarded Warad-Mushtal and slumped. “Okay, I hate to admit it, but I need to lie down.”
Frozen in place, Jelena unfocused and stared at nothing. That had to be the most anti-climactic thing that ever happened to her. She’d been positive that when Sychar touched her, her body would hum and sing with joy. His eyes would dilate as he breathed her in. Their hearts would race in unison as the universe became aligned.
The only thing that happened was… a big fat nothing. The skin of his hands was dry and calloused. Being held in them was as exciting as holding a rock. And she still couldn’t detect his unique scent. What was worse, the mere thought of taking his blood filled her with distaste. That made little sense. Even though he was gray and gaunt from his ordeal, the man was as handsome as ever. His undeniable leadership should have added to his allure. But it didn’t do a damn thing for her.
Her world tilted.
~Zamush~
Zamush took Asu to his private quarters at Esharra. He’d be damned if he let the Akurns witness what he did. With the man enthralled, his fangs lengthened. He pierced the delicate skin around his captive’s neck. The rich bouquet of Akurn blood filled his mouth. As he swallowed, a rush of the man’s recent memories sped through his mind in a plethora of images. Pulling his fangs free, he licked the wound closed. Zamush kept his control on the Akurn as he closed his eyes and sorted through the information.
Well, shit. Here was the oldest story in the books. Asu betrayed his friends and comrades over a woman. Looked like the young man was desperate to please an Akurn noblewoman by the name of Damkina, who was there with her father. She’d led the youth on, promising a variety of delicious rewards if he’d just do this itsy-bitsy little thing for her.
The boy’s naivety made Zamush snort. The guy honestly thought he was serving the Empire by spying on Warad-Mushtal. He’d reported their plans to rescue Sychar and the other prisoners at Erset La Tari to the woman. She had to have alerted Murduk where Sychar was by now.
Glaring into the man’s dilated eyes, he willed him to answer. “Where’s Damkina? Is she still here?”
After a slow blink, Asu gave a brief nod. “She’s waiting for me to confirm Sychar is here so Murduk can send his imperial guards.” Tears filled the man’s eyes. “Is it true? Sub-Prince Murduk is not King Du-Uru’s son?” He croaked. “That would mean I might’ve been responsible for the death of the rightful heir to Akurn.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he whimpered.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. His enthrallment was wearing off. And the last thing he wanted to do was comfort some idiot who blindly followed a pretty face. Tucking the man into his embrace, he teleported back to the main ballroom. Good, Abiditan was still there with Qhasheik and Katsuki. He frowned. Jelena wasn’t there. Neither was Sychar. Did they go off somewhere together? A searing pain tightened his chest.
Pressing his lips together, he shoved the now-sobbing Asu at Abiditan.
“What in the hell did you do to him?” Abiditan grasped the inconsolable man.
“I made him realize he’s an idiot.” Zamush rubbed his chest and spoke through clenched teeth. The urge to find Jelena with Sychar was hard to fight. No telling what he’d do if he caught them in a passionate embrace. “There’s another traitor in our midst. I have to find her before she sends a message to Murduk that Sychar is here.” Not giving anyone a chance to ask questions, he teleported away.
Now if he were a snobbish, self-absorbed Akurn noblewoman bitch, where would he be? As Zamush sorted through Asu’s recent memories of Damkina, he searched for a way to find her. Since the woman was a lackey for Murduk, she had to be in the thick of things. He teleported to the main receiving room at Esharra. Good enough place to start.
He glanced around the empty room, and a movement in the corridor caught his eye. If he was lucky, it was a servant. He sprinted to catch them. If anyone knew where the nobles were, it would be the servants. The corridor was empty, but the sound of a raised female voice down the hall had potential.
Stopping outside an open doorway, he listened in.
“What do you mean, you don’t know where the communication room is?” The woman’s cultured tones dripped with impatient condescension. “I demand you take me to somebody who does right now.”
“But…” a terrified whisper in a young female voice. The girl’s high-pitched cry pegged her as someone who hadn’t reached her pre-teens yet. “I was supposed to stay in my room. I don’t know where anyone is!”
Zamush peeked inside.
A tall Akurn noblewoman stood with her back to the open door, hands on slim hips. Luxurious butterscotch hair ended above full buttocks that were covered by a formfitting, watered-silk, yellow gown.
He’d been right about the age of the other person in the room.
The girl was far from womanhood. A full flush of deep red colored her porcelain cheeks as fat tears rolled down them. She bit her trembling bottom lip, and stood with her arms crossed.
It was obvious the poor girl was terrified.
He hated bullies. Standing in front of the open doorway, he leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms and legs. “Hey, bitch. Why don’t you pick on somebody your own size?”
The Akurn noblewoman swung around, her pale-blue eyes hard. She curled her upper lip. “How dare you address me so, you disgusting Adamou. Who let you off your leash?”
Ah, this is going to be fun. Catching the younger girl’s eye, he nodded to the hallway in invitation for her to leave. “Go back to your room, damu. I’ll take care of this.”
With a triumphant glare at her tormentor, the young girl scurried to him. “I could’ve handled her, you know.” Her cute little chin trembled, but her words were strong. “I’ll go back to my room because I want to. And I’m not a child!” To prove her point, she turned to the older woman and stuck out her tongue before running from the room.
