Crystal Moon Read online

  respect and obedience.”

  Katya’s shoulders dropped slightly at Graham’s chiding,

  then her chin lifted. “While he sits planning his vengeance against

  DiSanti, I have captured the means by which to obtain justice,

  DiSanti’s only daughter, the heir to his misbegotten empire.”

  How little they understood. Did her father truly love

  anyone?

  “What will he sacrifice to have her returned unharmed?

  His fortune? His life? DiSanti is as flawed crystal. We will

  shatter him.” Katya spat the words, her face twisted in anger.

  If they planned to use her as bait to trap her father, they

  had miscalculated. Other than as a pawn to be sacrificed for

  something better, she held little worth in her father’s eyes. Why

  else had he abandoned her with the Sisters so long ago?

  And if these angry men raped her, what little value she had

  would disappear. Without her innocence, she was worthless to

  her father as a political pawn.

  Sianna shivered despite the warmth of the sun now beating

  down. She stirred, then cringed as they turned their hard stares

  on her.

  Katya stood and approached. “So DiSanti’s spawn

  awakens.” She crouched down. “If in your black heart you

  believe in the Eternal One, I suggest you pray.”

  Sianna fought to block the woman’s venomous anger and

  control the shudders of fear shaking her frame. “I don’t

  understand. Why have you taken me?” She forced the words

  past the terror clogging her throat.

  “Do not play the innocent with me. You live only so long as

  you are of use to us. Cause any trouble, and I will take great

  delight in disposing of you. Your father need never know of

  your death until it is much too late for him to escape our trap.

  Once we have him, you will pay for your crimes as well.”

  Sianna pulled herself up and faced the woman with as much

  courage as she could muster. “What crimes?”

  Katya gave a low growl and swung her hand. Sianna

  flinched, but the blow never fell.

  “Enough.” Graham grabbed Katya’s arm and pulled her

  away. “The girl is no good to us if she dies of fright.” He paused,

  his gaze running over Sianna. “Or from exposure.”

  He released his grip on Katya and knelt next to Sianna.

  The first rays of the sun flashed off a knife blade. Sianna shrank

  back. The blade swept passed her face and sliced through the

  rope around her wrists.

  Feeling returned to her arms and hands like a thousand

  insect stings. She gritted her teeth to keep from moaning. A

  heavy fur coat, warm from the fire and the heat of the man’s

  body, dropped over her bent shoulders. Before she could speak

  her thanks, he placed a mug filled with a fragrant, steaming

  liquid in her hands.

  Features twisted into a disapproving scowl, Katya moved

  to snatch away the mug. Graham stopped her.

  “She is our prisoner. Would you abuse her in her

  helplessness, as they abused Aubin?” he questioned softly.

  Katya’s gaze locked with Sianna’s. Heartbreak flashed

  across Katya’s face. Sianna felt it like a blade in her heart.

  “Will you sink into the slime with DiSanti?” Graham

  continued.

  Wave after wave of agony held Sianna rigid. Only when

  Katya whirled and fled the clearing did the anguish in Sianna’s

  heart cease. She knew Katya was not so fortunate. She carried

  the soul-destroying grief within her.

  “For whom does she grieve?” Sianna dared to ask.

  Graham’s grizzled features tightened, erasing all hint of his

  gentle nature. “Cease your questions, woman. Do not try our

  patience with your false show of innocence.” He turned and

  stalked away.

  Just what did they believe her father had done?

  ***

  Sianna sat behind Graham, her arms around his waist as

  his quinar picked its way confidently along the narrow mountain

  path. To one side sheer rock walls rose toward a cerulean sky,

  to the other, the ground fell away sharply. Pebbles dislodged by

  the passing quinar rained down into the distant valley. Upward

  they climbed. Despite the heat of the sun, the air grew thin and

  cold.

  “Will you tell me where are we going?” Despite herself,

  Sianna’s voice quavered.

  “Don’t be so eager. You’ll know soon enough.”

  “But...”

  “Be silent, woman, or I’ll gag you. I’ve no desire to listen

  to more of your lies of ignorance and innocence.”

  Though he spoke gruffly, deep within him Sianna sensed

  the seed of beginning belief. She contented herself with that

  small break in his hatred.

  When the sun stood straight overhead, they paused at a

  wide place in the path and dismounted. Her limbs ached and

  trembled from clinging to Graham and from the jarring gait of

  the quinar. They ate dried meat and fruit, washed down by a

  sharp ale.

  Sianna gulped the cold liquid, grateful for its numbing effect.

  Sitting beside Graham, she dared to ask again, “Where are we

  going?”

  While Graham and Katya ignored her question, the other

  men’s antagonism intensified. Tension made the atmosphere

  thick. “Why do they hate me so?”

  “Murderers are not often loved,” Katya said.

  The thought of what these people might do to her tightened

  her throat so she couldn’t swallow. “You think I murdered

  someone?”

  Hostile silence met her question. Apprehension kept her

  from asking more.

  She was almost grateful when they mounted the beasts

  and moved on.

  The path widened even more, heading downward. Shadows

  lengthened and the air warmed. Where before she welcomed

  the protection, she now longed to shed Graham’s heavy coat.

  Fear of sliding from the quinar’s back kept her from releasing

  her grip on Graham, and the men’s gazes already lingered over

  long on her bare legs. Like a sullen black cloud, their lust joined

  with the lightning of their hate. She was the enemy, the focus

  of their anger. Would their normal moral restraints protect her?

  She feared they would not.

  Dark came early in the shadow of the mountains. They

  made camp in a wooded valley. Quietly the men moved around,

  tethering the tired quinar and building a fire to prepare a hot

  meal. The tinkling sound of water cascading over rock blended

  with the chorus of birds settling for the night and the rustle of

  dry leaves in the evening breeze.

  Once the sun dipped behind the mountain’s bulk, the air

  grew chilled. Sianna wrapped her arms around her waist, again

  grateful for the coat’s warmth.

  Silence pounded against her abraded nerves. She could

  almost hear the thoughts of the men, and her tender heart

  lamented the fury directed at her. She tried not to draw attention

  to herself.

  Graham’s quinar nickered and nuzzled her fingers when

  she fed it a piece of dried fruit she had saved from the midday

  me
al. Though she knew the men watched her every movement,

  no one stopped her as she spoke to the quinar and stroked its

  rough coat. The animal responded to her touch with low rumbles

  of pleasure. She easily read the simple creature’s wants—a

  scratch in an unreachable spot, a rub, a handful of sweet grass.

  By giving him what he craved, she gained his trust and

  acceptance.

  Deju, Katya’s beast, laid his massive head on her shoulder.

  She staggered beneath its weight. He sighed in contentment as

  her fingers massaged behind one floppy ear. Moist and heavy

  with the smell of chewed grass, his breath bathed Sianna’s

  neck.

  Could she mount and ride away without being caught? The

  thought of escape tantalized her. Self-preservation urged her to

  flee, while her training prodded her to stay and help these deeply

  troubled people. But would they accept her aid?

  “Move away from the animals,” a man called Je’al ordered.

  Though tall, he appeared no older than Sianna. His gaze swept

  over her, then lingered on the swell of her breasts beneath her

  thin robe and nightdress. She clutched the coat closed.

  “You think you can escape your fate?”

  “I wasn’t trying to escape.” The lie tasted sour on her

  tongue.

  Before she could scurry back to the relative safety of the

  campfire, his fingers closed around her wrist.

  Like a burning brand, his touch revealed the torment

  churning within him. Hate, black and ugly, and a fevered hunger

  mingled until the two emotions demanded an outlet, lest they

  destroy him.

  Hope shrinking, Sianna knew he meant to vent his wrath

  on her. Caught up in his turmoil, it was a moment before she

  realized he pulled her deeper into the growing darkness rather

  than back toward the others. She opened her mouth to cry out.

  He clamped his hand over her face, smothering her scream.

  She fought his hold, her struggles no match for his strength.

  Soon she could no longer see the light from the fire or hear the

  murmur of voices.

  His hand lifted from her mouth. She gulped in air and struck

  out. He grunted.

  “Be still, she-hound.” His fingers dug into her shoulder,

  forcing her to the ground.

  “Let me go.”

  Pinned beneath his weight, she tried to retreat from his

  emotions. If she failed to separate from his passions, she feared

  she would experience her rape from his perspective. To do so

  would destroy her as surely as it would him.

  Twisted in disgust, his face hovered inches above hers.

  “The others may be content to let Rul Cathor decide your fate.

  Not I. Aubin....” His voice cracked on the name. “...Aubin

  was...he was....” He searched vainly for words to describe his

  attachment to Aubin.

  From the emotions of her captors since her abduction,

  Sianna had formed a picture of Aubin—a vibrant young man,

  full of laughter, loving and much loved. That these people should

  seek vengeance for his loss did not surprise her, but she could

  glean nothing of the how or why of Aubin’s death, only that

  somehow they held her and her father responsible.

  Sianna felt the battle waging within Je’al. She reached out

  to him, but feared she lacked the skill and strength to shatter

  the rage surrounding him, to reach his true self, the caring young

  man she sensed dwelling beneath his shell of anguish.

  Still, she tried. “I didn’t kill Aubin. I didn’t even know him.

  You don’t want to hurt me, Je’al. Please stop before you do

  something you’ll always regret.”

  “You lie!” He stripped away her coat.

  Her scream echoed loud in the night silence. His hand swung

  down and hit her cheek. A hot, white light burst behind her

  eyes, cutting short her cry. She went limp, unable to fight off

  the lethargy stealing over her.

  Had anyone heard her cry? Would anyone come to her

  aid? Or was this just the first of many such attacks? The

  thoughts floated randomly in her mind. Somehow they no longer

  seemed important.

  “You’ll not escape so easily. Open your eyes.”

  She blinked. A groan slipped through her lips.

  In the past she’d taken on the suffering of others, absorbing

  it as she helped them heal. The experience did not prepare her

  for the agony of her own pain. Dull aches throbbed a

  counterpoint to the sharp pangs shooting through her head.

  The night swam back into focus. Je’al knelt over her. She

  felt the prick of his knife pressed against her belly. The heat

  from his body, so close to hers, did not warm her.

  “I want you to feel as my blade slices into you.”

  She sucked in her breath. For a second the blade no longer

  touched her. She had mistaken his intent. He lusted for her

  blood rather than her person. “I had nothing to do with Aubin’s

  death. You must believe me.”

  Je’al laughed softly. “You can’t escape. Nor will you die

  quickly.” He lowered the knife until it pierced her skin. “Like

  Aubin, you’re young and healthy. With a belly wound, you’ll

  take days to die. At the end,” his voice broke, then firmed in

  anger, “Aubin begged and screamed for us to put him out of

  his misery.”

  Sianna knew Je’al spoke the truth. She’d once cared for a

  man with a punctured abdomen. Brought to her days after the

  injury, her skill proved too little to save him. She could only ease

  his torment until the end.

  “Will you beg then?” Je’al asked.

  Sianna tore her gaze from him. She could no longer endure

  his emotions. Like a hail of sharp stones, they battered her.

  Even the plunge of his knife could not cause her as much pain.

  She looked past him into the moonlit woods.

  And forgot to breathe.

  Silhouetted against the setting moons stood a Dark Angel.

  Legs spread wide, his black cloak billowing in the night breeze,

  he appeared a demon come to claim her ka, her soul.

  Sword in hand, he moved forward. The red blade caught

  and splintered the moonlight.

  With a gasp, she squeezed her eyes shut.

  “What...” Je’al started, his words cut short. Then his weight

  lifted from her.

  There was a muffled grunt and a thud. Je’al’s emotions

  went silent. Was he dead? No. Sianna sensed him, alive but

  unaware.

  Stunned, she lay still. No other presence touched her. Was

  the man truly a Dark Angel? She kept her eyes closed. To lose

  her ka would be a worse fate than any Je’al or the others

  planned for her.

  She strained to hear, to sense. Other than the whisper of

  air through the trees and the rasp of Je’al’s breathing, she heard

  nothing. She gathered her courage and lifted her eyelids. Here

  was her chance to escape.

  A few feet away Je’al lay sprawled on his back. As if

  asleep, his chest rose and fell evenly. He appeared little more

  than a boy, his manly features barely formed. She sensed his

  deep turmoil and su
ffering, but despite the Sister’s teachings

  she would have to work at forgiving him.

  Rising to her knees, she glanced around for the Dark Angel.

  Had she imagined him? No. Je’al’s limp form proved the Dark

  Angel had come. But where was he now? And what would he

  want in payment for his favor?

  Sianna remembered the Sisters’ tales of the Dark Angels.

  Lost souls, forbidden entry into eternity for their misdeeds in

  life, yet not evil enough to be condemned to oblivion, they

  wandered the land in search of salvation. They offered help to

  those in need, but to call upon them was to court danger.

  Dispensing justice with their red crystal swords, Dark Angels

  often did not distinguish between the guilty and the innocent.

  Perhaps in this instance, the Dark Angel had come and

  gone, without thought of payment. Once safely back with the

  good sisters, she would offer prayers for the Dark Angel’s ka.

  For now she would flee.

  Sianna rose. Though her legs trembled, she knew she could

  not delay. Soon Katya and the others would notice her absence.

  Her only hope was to put as much distance between them and

  herself as possible. She shivered. What chance did she have of

  finding her way back to the sisters? Alone. Lost in the dark.

  She had no choice. To stay meant death.

  Kala and her crystal twin, Dema, no longer lightened the

  night sky. A heavy blanket of darkness surrounded her. She

  grabbed Graham’s coat and wrapped it around her, grateful for

  its warmth.

  She turned and crashed into something solid. Smothering a

  startled scream, she looked up.

  Her eyes locked with those of the Dark Angel. Deep as

  the moonless night, his eyes speared her and held her motionless.

  Black hair fell loose around his face, just touching his shoulders.

  Though not fair skinned, his face appeared light compared to

  the night surrounding him.

  Many things could interfere with her ability to read people’s

  emotions correctly, but always she felt those emotions hiding

  within. Yet she sensed nothing from this man. Was he truly a

  Dark Angel?

  “Why did Je’al wish to kill you?” the Dark Angel asked.

  “He blames me for another’s death.”

  “Who are you, woman?”

  “Sianna Di....”

  “Je’al.” Graham’s booming voice drowned her whispered