Janrae Frank Dark Brothers of The Light 3 Blood Dawn

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the nature of his bond with Anksha, to know that he was her blood-slave. They
treated her like a pet and she behaved like one. They all gave her candy and
petted her. She romped with the lycans, mellowing into a feral child state no,
not child-like, she was a cat in humanoid form, a large, dangerous cat, for
the moment playful and content with her playmates; a lion on love's leash. Her
limbs had healed with incredible speed and the casts had come off a week ago.
Now her nearness became a roaring agony in his mind and body, searing through
his flesh from the soles of his feet to the roots of his hair. The palms of
his hand tingled and his loins burned. A weight pressed on his chest,
clutching around his heart, as if to burst it. He felt her sitting on the
wagon's seat, talking to Nevin.
"Anksha," he croaked, through dry, cracked lips, his throat tightening,
barely able to get the words out, realizing with desperate panic that he was
on the edge of another attack. "Anksha & help me." Her presence became a
roaring noise in his mind, screaming through his awareness, splitting his
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thoughts. "Anksha!" His voice finally came loose from his throat in a shriek
of agony. "Anksha!"
Anksha rushed in followed by Nevin and Amiri. Her eyes saucered and she could
feel his pain. "Isranon?"
"Link & feed& Please feed," he gasped.
"Lock the doors." Amiri ordered.
Nevin got the doors locked, changed, and curled up beside Isranon. The mage
clutched at him for support.
Amiri unfolded a chair and moved close, taking Isranon's hand. "It's bad.
Damn. Anksha. If you don't go back to feeding regularly the link's going to
kill him."
Anksha whimpered. "But he's so weak. I hurt him."
"You hurt him worse if you don't. It was too late the moment you took him. He
isn't like the others. It's this constant contact. He gets no relief. Get it
over with."
Anksha climbed on top of Isranon, starting for his throat, and then spun,
jumping off. She pushed up his pants leg and bit him there in the femoral
artery instead where there was some fat and muscle. Isranon still clenched
Nevin, but it did not hurt nearly as bad and the sensation was startling.
"What in Creation is she doing?" Amiri asked. She and Randilyn had tried some
interesting positions and arteries in their feeding and sexing, and she'd fed
from that one herself a few times, but the Beast had never varied in her
feedings always straight for the throat with such consistency that Amiri had
noted in her journal that the Beast must be a throat feeder by nature and
possibly by necessity. Amiri squatted, observing the way that Anksha's fangs
and lips handled the artery behind Isranon's knee. Anksha appeared to have no
difficulty with it.
Amiri stroked her head. "Don't take too much, just sooth the link."
Anksha came loose from him, her mouth, and face bloody, disengaging her fangs
and sliding them out of him as gently as possible. Isranon flinched, crying
out softly. Anksha licked the wound to close it, straightened his pants, and
crept up to him with tears in her eyes. Amiri went to the cabinet for a bottle
of demon's blood. Isranon needed trolls blood; the regenerative agent was
strongest in trolls' blood. Amiri got him up and fed him.
* * * *
They set a strong pace each day, as Nans grew more desperate to avoid the
Sacred King. There was no time for hunting. There was no war yet on theWest
Bank of the Hillora, but the spectre of what happened to Timbren which had
been consumed in its entirety during Hoon's war with the Sacred King was in
everyone's mind. The Nine, the elder gods of the pantheon, had instructed
their priests to order an exodus of the West Bank: all the small isolated
villages and towns, the little freeholds, cotwolds, farms, everything
scattered through the wilderness had been ordered to run north with the Sacred
King. Her company, which had been a small riding, had grown to the size of a
major city in motion, moving slower and slower. Godwar, the priests
proclaimed, and the people flocked to her for protection.
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Nans merged Isranon's people with her own, making a single company of them
with Isranon and Zulaika's blessing. They were all in this for the long haul.
She promoted Travis to Itch's place as second and made Zulaika her third. She
integrated their lycans into a single unit of scouts, leaving Nevin and Olin
assigned to Isranon, and Anksha as her wildcard. They had also been instructed
that no one was to call Isranon by any name other than Dawnreturning.
No one minded killing trolls to feed Isranon, because trolls were universally
considered vermin; they fed primarily on humans and other two-legged sapients.
Anksha had a very narrow window of time in which to catch a troll. Yet none
ever came near enough to the camp. Anksha did not understand that, but Nans
did. The auric scent of wilderkin predator registered on their psyches as a
very large, very mean creature. In other words, when they came too close to
camp, the trolls smelled something that would eat them and backed away. Nans
had not yet learned to damp it down.
Travis was delighted to have a new audience for his old stories. Most of them
revolved around that old black dog whose name was Blue. Travis could never
quite explain why he had named him that as a child. The Rowdies knew them all
by heart and endured them good-naturedly, along with his usual embellishments.
They gathered around the fire. Amiri and Nevin sat with Isranon, who lay
wrapped in a blanket on a folding cot. Randilyn, Amiri's nibari sat beside her
master, smiling. Nans wanted to keep his morale up by including him in their
banter and not leaving him isolated in the big wagon.
"Now my sister had a drum that always sat on the floor," Travis said. "My old
dog always ignored that drum. My sister liked my old dog. She gave it treats."
"Your people are good to their dogs," Isranon said, fascinated. "My people
don't keep dogs. We have lycans."
Nevin snorted. "We're not pets, Isranon." He yanked his spirit-brother's dark
hair and then twiddled with it affectionately.
"My old dog wasn't just a pet," interjected Travis. "He was my best friend.
He was almost as big as you and black as a Trethian on a moonless night. Black
as Bohannon's butt."
"You've never seen Bohannon's butt," Luck observed dryly.
"How would you know?" Travis shot back.
"I know Bohannon," Nans said walking up to them. "You are definitely not
pretty enough for him. For one thing, you don't have tits."
Travis flushed. "Well anyway my old dog was black& " he started up again and
then exploded. "Will you all shut up? You're ruining my story!"
Everyone laughed.
Anksha, crunching candy beside Isranon, rolled over on her back and kicked
her feet, bumping the cot. Olin nipped at her and she kicked his hairy side,
setting off a chase through the camp with several other lycans joining in. A [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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