Nightmaster - Susan Krinard

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crack around the room. Ares did the same with his own staff and passed it to one of the attendants.

      Then he abandoned the last vestiges of detachment and let the thrill of battle rise from within, his muscles tightening, his heart speeding. Palemon grinned, his teeth still stained with blood, and flexed his fingers. His nails, kept long as most Opiri preferred, were almost as deadly as claws.

      The fight was swift and vicious. The only weapons permitted were strength, swiftness and the tearing bite of long, razor-sharp incisors. Twice Ares pinned Palemon to the ground, his teeth inches from the other Bloodmaster’s throat. But each time Palemon threw him off, and soon both of them were panting and dripping blood from numerous small wounds on their arms and chests. Three times Ares heard the female human gasp, once more giving the lie to her formerly dispassionate demeanor.

      The thought of her naked body under his distracted him for one vital moment. Palemon lunged and drove Ares down, sinking his teeth into his enemy’s neck.

      “No!”

      The female ran toward them, as fearless as a hummingbird protecting its egg from a hungry crow. She struck Palemon on the shoulder. He reared back, lashing out at her, and she danced out of range.

      Ares didn’t hesitate. He flung himself on Palemon, banged his head against the floor several times and bit down hard on the other Opir’s jugular. Blood gurgled in Palemon’s throat, and he gave up the struggle.

      Rising to his feet, Ares stared down at his enemy and caught his breath. Palemon would recover from the bite; all Opiri healed as quickly in an hour as a human might over many days, or even weeks.

      But Palemon was in no condition to move now, and Ares had no desire to gloat over his victory. He looked around the room at the other Opiri. None would meet his gaze.

      That was as it should be. Ares had gone far to reinforce his status, and without seriously maiming his opponent as he could have done. Palemon was within his rights to demand a rematch because of the female’s unprecedented interference, but he would look the fool for seeming to suggest a serf had made a difference in the outcome.

      No, Ares thought. When next Palemon Challenged him, it would be to the death.

      As Daniel cautiously approached to return Ares’s clothes, the female stood with her arms wrapped around her chest and stared at Palemon with obvious shock at what she had done. It seemed incredible that she had put herself between two Opiri who could have torn her apart in an instant. But had her actions been born of ignorance, desperation...or almost unimaginable courage?

      Now that she was unquestionably his, such questions would be answered in due time.

      “Find another shift for the female,” Ares said to the nearest attendant. The Freeblood hurried off to fulfill his task and returned quickly with a slightly longer shift, less transparent than the first.

      “Dress yourself,” Ares ordered the woman. Moving slowly, she held his gaze as she slipped the shift over her head and tied the belt around her waist. It was the most unattractive garment in all Erebus, one assigned to City serfs, yet she was still beautiful, her hair falling about her shoulders and the curves of her body very much in evidence.

      “Would you have her bound, my lord?” the attendant asked.

      “Should I bind you?” Ares asked the woman harshly in the Opir language, his blood still thick with the dregs of violence. “Or will you come with me of your own will?”

      Chapter 3

      Ares heard the shifting and barely audible murmurs of the other Opiri. They knew he would not address a serf in such a way before his peers if he were not utterly secure in his power.

      The female seemed to know it, too. “I’ll come,” she said, lifting her chin.

      Turning to the attendant, Ares pressed his ring seal onto the tablet the Freeblood presented. He became aware once more of the silent audience, waiting for him to complete his claim with the serf’s blood.

      “Bend back your head,” he told her.

      She did as he commanded, baring her throat. Hunger flooded Ares’s mouth and desire hardened his body. He took her by the shoulders, and she didn’t resist.

      Most Opiri would be satisfied with physical submission. But that wasn’t enough for Ares. He sensed that she had accepted his power over her because she had no choice—and, perhaps, because she was grateful.

      But he still smelled her defiance, saw it in her posture, in the clenching of her fists and the set of her jaw. He would never attempt to break her as Palemon would have done, so it was quite likely that she would always keep some part of herself away from him.

      That would be a mixed blessing for what he had in mind. He wanted her thoughts free enough so that she would be of use to him in his study of human behavior and emotion, but at the same time he recognized that part of him craved another kind of challenge.

      It would be a kind of game he played with himself, keeping that uncommon lust for her in check and rising above his species’ predatory nature. He would call upon the discipline, persistence and resolve that had kept him alive over the centuries and allowed him to fend off every Opir who would take what was his.

      “Daniel,” he said, releasing the female’s shoulders, “take the staff and return to the Household. Have them prepare for a new arrival.”

      After the servant left to do his bidding, Ares nodded to the woman and walked out of the Claiming room. She fell in step behind him, and he could smell her arousing human scent. Once they were out of the Claiming room and in the lobby, she abruptly stopped.

      “Why didn’t you bite me?” she asked.

      Ares continued on without looking back. “I chose not to.”

      “What about the others?” she asked, changing subjects so quickly that it took him a moment to realize she was referring to the remaining serfs.

      “They will all be claimed,” he said, slowing his pace. “You are said to be a female of some intelligence. Were you unaware of what would happen to every human in your party when you arrived in Erebus?”

      “I was aware,” she said. “But Palemon...”

      Ares stopped and turned to face her. “Palemon will be in no condition to claim any serf today.”

      Her shoulders slumped in relief. Ares knew she had been deeply worried about her fellow Homo sapiens, afraid they would fall to a cruel master as she almost had.

      “Why do you care?” he asked. “Did you know these humans before you were sent here?”

      “No,” she said. “But maybe that’s something you wouldn’t understand.”

      “Perhaps I wish to learn.”

      She blinked, clearly surprised. “You wish to—”

      “What is your name?” he asked.

      “Trinity,” she said in a husky voice. “I know you can change my name if you want to. But I’m hoping you’ll let me keep one thing that still belongs to me.”

      “You very nearly lost your life,” he said, absurdly angry when he had no cause to be. “You interfered in a Challenge.”

      “I thought you were about to lose.”

      “I would not have lost.”

      “It looked bad to me,” she said. “I knew what Palemon would do to me if you didn’t win.”

      That was exactly the motive Ares had expected. “You made a grave error,” he said, holding fast to his temper. He turned away again. “Come.”

      Her hand darted out to touch his arm. An instant later he had her by the throat. She dropped her hand from his sleeve and coughed, but her gaze never left his.

      “There is something you must understand,”

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