Handmaiden's Fury (4 page)

“Focus, Handmaiden. Breathe. I don’t
want you to find your pleasure yet.”

I reached for my attacker and pulled
him to me Neither an act of submission nor weakness, I kissed his rum-soaked
mouth. I took control, overwhelming him.

Men so seldom understood how fierce
desire could be.

I broke the kiss and peered into the
man’s brown, muddy eyes.

He peered back, his gaze lost,
confused.

The silver and red bond had formed
heaven’s thunder, which drowned out the sound of his own will.

“Kill them.” I commanded.

He spun around, pulling the knife
from his belt.

His first friend, the one who had
been in the alleyway with him, stepped back, bewildered.

“Rand? What are you—?”

He never had a chance to finish. Rand
was on him in a heartbeat. With the kind of ferocity that only appeared with
the loss of thought and fear, he swung his small knife. His friend’s throat
opened in a dazzling, brilliant spray of gurgling red.

In the confusion, the man who had stepped
from the pub ran upon me.

“She’s a witch! What did you do—?”

Behind him, at the edge of the
alleyway, stepped a fourth opponent. He had pale skin and wore a cloak the
color of night.

I could see his wicked smile, his
gleaming red eyes.

I dodged as the dusky-skinned man
clumsily swung a fist. He went for another strike, but I reached out, grasping
him firmly on the arm.

In the space of less than a breath,
less than thought, I released the power of the
Doch
sigil
into
him. Memories of my Sire coursed through me as I released the flame.

“Show me, little Handmaiden. Show me
how much you enjoy this.”

I bit my lip, moaning.

The man shuddered, moaning as Her
pleasure tore through him, sharp as a blade, fast as any arrow. “Saryna.” His
eyes glazed. “Oh, sweet girl…”

His body convulsed, his muscles
dancing in fits as the fire of ecstasy burned through him. Pleasure overtook
his entire world, and he sank to his knees, stupefied, his body betraying him.

Until Rand ended that with one quick
slice, the man who so loved Saryna lay motionless on the paved cobbles.

Rand and I faced the man cloaked in
night.

“You led us on quite the chase,
pretty doe.” The man’s voice rustled like silk pulled over steel. “I think you
are more than we believed.”

“Yours.” Rand’s voice came in a husky
whisper. “I belong to you, Mistress. What shall I do?”

“Kill him.” My grin turned feral. “He
doesn’t leave this alleyway.”

Rand turned on the man, knife in
hand, but the night-cloaked man danced around Rand’s advances, gone before
every strike. He was like the wind in autumn, like the grace of a raven’s wing.

Now.

I stepped in, my Lady’s power burning
on my fingertips. I missed my first grasp, but the second caught a pale arm as
he reached for me. I looked into his cloak, close enough to see his porcelain
skin and angled, strong jaw.

I released my Lady’s power into him.

Instead of enveloping him, thunder
and fire slapped me in the face. My head felt crushed. Lightning tore through
my skin.

I blinked, then landed on the ground
four steps from the night-clad man.

“I may also be more than I appear.”
He smiled smugly. “You will not be returning to your temple this night, I
think.”

Then, Rand appeared behind him, a
broken cobblestone in hand. He swung as the cloaked figure gloated and caught
him full on the back of the head. With a sickening crack, the not-man
staggered.

Rolling, I pushed myself to my feet,
holding my torn dress in an effort at decency.

Dazed, the cloaked man still moved
.
Goddess
above, a strike like that should have—!

Rand swung a second time.

I did not wait. I ran for the
alleyway.

They had ambushed me only thirty feet
before the alley, but the streets bustled with throngs of people. I stepped
into the crowd, watching the mouth of the alleyway. If the cloaked man came out
of the alleyway, I would not run. This time, I would stay with the crowd and
let the city watch intervene if he attacked me.

A long moment passed. Then another.

Rand stumbled from the alleyway. He
cast his eyes about, seeking me.

“Rand!” I waved my hand at him, unwilling
to step from the street.

He saw me and staggered over.

I sat on a bench next to a fountain.
“Where is he?”

“He ran off, didn’ he? Jumped on a
rain barrel and pulled up on the roof, quick as spit.” Rand panted. He looked
at me, his eyes hangdog and stricken.

I cursed.

Rand winced at my anger.

“I’m yours, Mistress. What will you
have of me?”

I pulled my torn dress back up. It
was a bit ragged, but it would hold until I was back at the House of Pleasure.

“You can tell me who hired you fine
men for one thing.” I narrowed my eyes. “Was it Lord Devariis?”

He shook his head emphatically. “No,
Lady. T’was that man, the one in black. Came into the pub not an hour ago. Don’
know his name, but I saw his badge. A silver eye, it was.”

How very odd. The Silver Eye was the
symbol of House Marklus.

Each of Stormhaven’s seven royal
Houses had their own house badge, a symbol that those born into or adopted by
that House proudly displayed. Of course the ruling Houses were a political
tangle of snakes so intertwined that they were impossible to completely
unravel.

Each House maintained various
contacts and supports for all their major endeavors. House Gwen’Dyrin, for
instance, employed the Runners of the Merchant Guild putting the current
Guildmaster in charge of the flow of information around our sister city,
Wintersedge, a very profitable endeavor.

I wasn’t involved with any of the
Houses. The most familiar to me was House Padronsdotter. They held many
intricate ties to the various temples throughout the land. It was the source of
their very name, and they took their piety very seriously.

While House Marklus tended to be
quiet, more secluded and secretive in its dealings, I knew their badge. They
had no ties to our temple or any other to my knowledge. Why would one of them
try to kill a Handmaiden?

“No one told you I served the Goddess
Rydia, did they?”

He shook his head again. “No,
Mistress. I was told…” He bit his lip, full of shame. “I was told you were
simply a whore of Lord Devariis. That you stole somethin’ when you left ’is
house.”

That made sense. “We need a carriage.
I have to get to the Lady’s House, and sooner is better.” I eyed him. “What of
Brys? What happened to the man who was awaiting me?”

Rand looked horrified and slowly sank
his head into his hands. He stuttered for a moment, not wanting to answer.

“R—robbed ’im, didn’t we?” He gave me
a sickly grin. “Took ’is horses an’ ’is pretty carriage.”

My eyes narrowed.

“We were told he was yer driver, that
you was in it together! ’E’s still all tied where we left ’im, I’ll wager.” His
face was hopeful, but his eyes shone with unshed tears.

I gave him an icy glare. In my body,
the fury of my Lady reared its head.

“We didn’ kill ’im!” He was
desperate. “I’m sorry, Mistress, truly! So sorry!” Now the tears rolled down
his cheeks, and he started to snivel.

“Well, you’ll take me to him. We’ll
pick up Brys and then head to the House of Pleasure.”

“You’ll… you’ll be taking me with you
then?” His voice was mewling, pathetic. “I don’t deserve yer kindness,
Mistress. But I’ll do ye right, I will!”

I gave him a cold stare. “Of course
you’re coming.” I smiled tightly. “And I know you’ll do right, Rand. You’ll
have no choice.”

“I love you, Mistress. I’ll do
whatever you want.”

The Rand who had been was dead. This
Rand would be in love with me, addicted to me, for the rest of his life. He
would serve me unfailingly.

“I know you will, Rand. Serve me
well, and we’ll see if we can forget about tonight.”

He started to blubber. “Thank you,
Mistress. Thank you fer lettin’ me make it all better.”

I made sure my dress was as secure as
it could be, though it took all of my willpower not to rip it off altogether
and throw myself atop Rand. The sigils were a demanding burden, though my anger
helped clear my mind for a time.

“Show me where you left Brys.”

Rand led the way through the city
streets.

Over two hours later I finally made
my way back to the softly lit, sumptuous halls of the House of Pleasure. My
body burned with passion, and I trembled from the unreleased power in my sigils.

Still, I had unfinished business.

“I will find the gentleman a room
near yours for the evening, Handmaiden.” Brys spoke as I clutched his arm,
leaning on him more than I wished to after such an exhausting night.

“Thank you, Brys.”
I smiled at him and stroked his arm,
uncertain how long I had been doing that.
“I’ll handle the rest in the morning. I’m sorry for the
difficulties this evening.” I snuggled into his chest, nuzzling at him before I
realized what I was doing. I wrenched myself away. “I apologize, Brys. I didn’t
mean….”

“Not at all, Handmaiden. Your
pleasure is mine.”

I practically raved for release. The
sigils continually called to me, burning into my body with whispers of passion.
If I did not focus, they would constantly pull at me with memories of my Sire,
wisps of what we had been doing to awaken their power.

Constantly holding Rydia’s Passion at
bay had grown tiring. Every little thing made me… eager.

I needed Sire Mattias.

I knew what to expect. He would be
harsh, almost cruel with me. He would need to burn the traces of our Lady’s
Flame from my body. He would be relentless, pushing me to emotional highs and
lows through pleasure and pain. He would be forceful enough to master my body
in every way possible, gentling my power as one might break a wild stallion.

It was for my own good. It was what I
needed.

When he opened his heavy, mahogany
door, his lips drew to a thin line.

His voice was strong like sweet, dark
rum, and I trembled as he said, “You’re late, Handmaiden.”

My eyes dropped of their own accord.
Still trembling, I flushed under his gaze. “It wasn’t my fault, Sire. I was—”

He reached forward and grasped my
hair tightly at the root. He squeezed, and I gasped. He pulled my face close to
his.

“I sat here, worrying. You could have
sent a runner. I thought—” He bit his words off.

I trembled like a child in his grip.
The kohl around my eyes ran with my tears, and I gazed up at my teacher.

“Yes, Sire.” I bit my lip. “May I
come in, Sire? I need ease.”

“What you need is to be bound in the
lower hall for a few days. You need to hang there so the other Handmaidens may
watch what happens to a spoiled child who does not obey her Sire.”

“No.” I began to cry in earnest.
“Please. I need you.” I wanted to debase myself before him, to fall to my knees
and do whatever he wished, but he would be unmoved.

“Did you find what we were looking
for? Is Devariis guilty?”

“Yes, Sire. He is a sorcerer.”

“Truly? You saw this?”

I nodded. “He is also selling girls.
He has a ship, and they load them in the night.”

“Slave girls? That he is shipping
north?”

I nodded. “Both human and human-kin.”

“It’s good that I sent you then.”

“Yes, Sire.”

He considered me for a long while.
“You also found trouble. You burned Orin’s cottage and fought in an alleyway.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Was there truly no other way for you to
deal with these situations?”

I had scribbled the briefest overview
of my night while in the carriage. I knew I would be less than useless while
awaiting my ease after reaching the temple. Brys must have given my report to
Sire Mattias so that he would know what to expect of me
.

“I did my best, Sire, with what I had
available.” I nuzzled his face. “I went and found out what we needed to know.
It was out of my control that I’m late.”

He caressed my hair. “The sigils are
blossoming, aren’t they? I can feel them burning in you.”

“Yes, Sire.” My voice came as a
bladed whisper. Ever trembling, I used every scrap of will to keep from hurling
myself upon him.

“I’ll have to gentle you, Handmaiden.
You know I will.”

“Please, Sire.”

He caressed the side of my face.
“Poor little one.” He spun his hand in my hair and grasped it tightly. I gasped
as he pulled. Then, he kissed me.

Oh! There was nothing like his kiss.
Sire Mattias’ kiss burned like molten silver.

He chuckled darkly and a smile spread
into his midnight eyes. “Come along, Handmaiden. Let’s see to your ease.”

“Yes, Sire.”

I followed him, both eager and
afraid.