Blood Prince: A Standalone Fantasy Romance Read online

  His voice. Now so close in the car, it was like a cold caress, and it was familiar. Without understanding how or where or why, I realized I knew this man. My heart sped to a rapid pace, a mix of terror and déjà vu washing over me. Goosebumps broke out along my skin, and a sense of dark foreboding cut deep. I was in danger, as sure as if I were in the midst of a battle of the gods.

  “Stop the car. Let me out.” The coldness in my voice rivaled the chill of apprehension in my heart.

  “I can’t do that, Helen. Not now that I have you again.”

  “My name is Elena, not Helen. And if you don’t let me out, you are going to regret it in a multitude of painful ways.” I no longer bothered hiding my power. The palms of my hands glowed a deep orange as orbs of flame lit there, fire ready to rip from them and tear the stranger to pieces.

  But something was different. My magic was still powerful, could easily torch the stranger and the car—but the orbs were perhaps a little smaller, the fire a tinge darker. What was happening? It wasn’t just my magic—I felt different, the low hum of the goddess’s influence no longer imbuing my body. Only one thing could cause such a shift—Artemis had abandoned me. Why? I was struck dumb, unable to believe it. My moon mother had turned her back right when I needed her the most. What in Hades is going on?

  The stranger, unaware of the change, glanced down at my hands for a moment before returning those dark eyes to mine. “I’m not afraid of you, Helen.”

  I pushed past my rising panic about Artemis and focused my ire on the stranger. “That is a tactical mistake you won’t recover from.” The flaming orbs grew larger. One touch and he would burn. Both touches and he would be ashes. Then I could return to Olympus to beg forgiveness for whatever I’d done to displease my mistress. “Tell your driver to stop. Now.”

  “I’m sorry to do this. I truly am, my love, but you leave me no choice,” he said with a note of false resignation tinged with exhilaration. He was enjoying this. As if he were toying with me all along.

  “That’s it. I gave you a chance.” I raised my hands and pressed them to the creature’s chest. The fire should have sent him up in a blaze of screaming agony.

  The stranger suffered no injury. My fire pierced him, yet did no damage. In fact, he smiled.

  I took my hands away and stared at them, wondering if I should shake them into working properly. “Moon mother, please,” I whispered.

  “You can’t hurt me, my love. But unfortunately,” he continued, and whisked out a pair of engraved silver bangles, “you could harm others in my employ.” He spared a glance toward the driver.

  I drew back my palm to strike him, but he caught my wrist with ease and clapped a bangle around it. Then he captured my other hand and did the same as easily as the first. My flames vanished. Impossibly powerful dispelling shackles, they bound my magic.

  I flung myself against the door of the car, trying to wrench it open and fall out into the street. The door did not give. With a cry of rage, I pounded on the glass, but it did not shatter. Artemis’s strength was truly gone from my veins. I kept struggling, fighting to escape him. I will not be taken like this. But as I told myself these things, the truth hit me hard. I had fallen. Artemis had abandoned me. I was in enemy hands.

  “I planned for this, you see.” He watched me, a caged bird helplessly beating my wings against the bars.

  “Stop struggling.” His voice grated on my ears as I focused my energy on breaking the rear window. His arms closed around me like a vise. Pulling me to him, subduing me with an ease that caused rage to roar through my heart and mind.

  “Shhh, shhhhhh, don’t fight them. You couldn’t get them off if you tried.” He kept me stilled against him with one strong arm and ran his long fingers down the side of my neck, tracing the silver runes that had marked me as Artemis’s servant. “Your beautiful skin. How could she mar it like this? It was so perfect.” He spoke as if I were a work of art on a wall in Artemis’s chambers, now defaced. “And this,” he said with deep contempt while perusing the birthmark along my jugular, no doubt pulsing a bright red in my distress.

  “Get off me.” But I was outmaneuvered and under his control … for the time being.

  He squeezed me closer, his breath in my ear. “For now.” The stranger relaxed his grip. He set me beside him once again and regarded me with his strangely familiar gaze.

  He was powerful, far stronger than any ordinary immortal. Strong enough to subdue a warrior of the gods. I was not going to escape with brute force. So I switched tactics—reconnaissance. Calming myself and slowing my heartbeat through sheer will, I began, “Who are you?”

  “Don’t you know, Helen?” His eyes twinkled with some dark secret.

  “Why are you calling me Helen?”

  “Because that’s your name.”

  “My name is Elena. You have the wrong person.”

  He waved my comment away with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “She changed your name to suit her own vanity. You are Helen. And, I assure you, I would know you anywhere. You, your body, your scent, your”—he glanced down at the apex of my thighs—“everything.”

  I took a deep, shuddering breath, if only to calm the bloodlust careening through my veins. I had been kidnapped and muzzled by an insane creature of unimaginable power. I didn’t have a strategy for this situation tucked away in my mind—because this turn of events should have been gods-damned impossible. But I wouldn’t give up my chosen tactic, not until I got all the information I could.

  “Who is it you think changed my name?”

  “That bitch Artemis. She thought it would be fun to wipe your memory and make you more of her disciple. As if that would change you, make you somehow unrecognizable. For an all-powerful goddess, she truly is a simpleton.” He shook his head.

  My anger bubbled over at the slight. “When my mistress finds out what you’ve done, she will flay the skin from your bones, wait for it to grow back, and then do it again and again until you beg for death. If I’m lucky, she’ll allow me to be the one to do the flaying.”

  He laughed, a rich sound that still managed to lack any true depth of feeling. “I sincerely doubt that.”

  Irritation rankled under my skin. “How do you know me?”

  “I already told you,” he said and sank back into the seat, confident I was no longer a danger or a flight risk. “I know everything there is to know about you.”

  “Why didn’t my magic harm you?”

  He smiled faintly, as if remembering something that amused him. “We made a deal, you and me, a long, long time ago.”

  “A deal about my magic?” Goddess give me strength to withstand this delusional fool. I had no memory of him, just the faintest sizzle of recognition on a visceral level.

  “Not exactly.” His gaze still raked over me, all of me, possessive.

  I stiffened my back. “I demand to know why you think you know me.”

  He leveled me with his dead stare, a hint of amusement in the curve of his lip. “Because I’m your husband.”

  Chapter Three

  Paris

  I continued teleporting, skipping from one street corner to the next, keeping the car that held Helen captive in my sights. I could not let her go again, could not give her up as I had before when there was no other choice.

  I cursed as I flew through space, seeing the surprised faces of mortals and immortals alike as I disappeared and reappeared at intervals. Desmerada—self-appointed vampire queen—had spies looking for me everywhere. I had no doubt one of her dark watchers had seen my display of teleportation power and already faded into the Underworld to report to its master. I never would have used my ability in such an obvious manner, but there was no time. The thought of Helen in the hands of the demon made me skip even faster, materializing for only a split second before vanishing back into the ether.

  Only the day before, I had trailed Elena from Olympus to earth, unwilling to let her out of my presence once I’d located her among Artemis’s warrior maidens. S
he’d been in the city for only a few hours, and I could not take my eyes off her, watching her through the windows of Roth’s chateau and following her as she took a stroll through the city streets.

  Just knowing she was alive gave me a sense of euphoria, but being so close to her without taking her in my arms was acute torture. Gods, I wanted to go to her and explain our past, hoping it would give us a future. But I knew now wasn’t the time.

  I had to pacify Artemis before I could even dream of speaking to Helen again. I had wormed my way into the goddess’s good graces with flattery and lies, but I had only one true goal. Helen. And she was alive, vibrant, and just as I remembered her. Now that I’d left Artemis to remain with Helen, the goddess would likely smite me on sight.

  I would risk it just to be near Helen again. I ached to claim her, to go to her and promise her I would never fail her again, that I would love her for as long as I lived.

  But what would I say to her? Hi, I’m Paris. You used to love me. I’ve loved you for thousands of years, thought you were dead, found you alive, so let’s get back together? I could see her turning me into a steaming pile of vampire bits. She had no memory of her previous life. She didn’t even give me a second glance when I first saw her in Artemis’s ranks. Now she was known as Elena de Artemis, the tactician of the moon goddess’s huntress army.

  Even though she had a new name and station, I could feel her in my bones. It was her, through and through. She was still Helen, strong and proud, the most beautiful creature I had ever seen in my mortal or immortal life.

  I’d continued tailing her earlier in the evening, following her through the streets of the city that shared my name. Though dressed in ill-fitting jeans and a sweater, she was just as tantalizing as I remembered. Tall, yet more graceful than the most delicate fairy. I couldn’t see her eyes but knew they shone a deep, turbulent green. The same green that haunted my dreams and even some of my waking moments.

  The men who passed her on the street turned their heads, following her lithe movements. I wanted to destroy them because I knew the secret thoughts that played out in their heads, because they played in mine too.

  But more than anything, I wanted to hold her again, to feel her against me. I could still remember her sultry taste on my tongue, the feel of her hands and her mouth. I’d wanted a lifetime of those moments, but they’d been stolen from me, from us both.

  I’d dreamed about her, only her, for so long, that when she was actually before me, it was almost too much to bear. I thought I might perish simply from the wanting of her, so close but untouchable.

  On Olympus, I had fooled Artemis into thinking I was enamored with the goddess. It had been the only way to stay close to Helen. But now, after I dumped Artemis in a rush to follow my true heart’s desire, the game was up. I could never step foot in Artemis’s realm again.

  Helen had been so beautiful, taking her evening stroll. Her honey scent in the air had drawn me closer as she wandered next to the shimmering river. The moon was half-full and dressed in a swath of gauzy clouds. Silvery light had played along the crown of Helen’s head, the glow angelic. Her fingers trailed along the stone railing as her gaze rested on the waters below. What was she thinking about?

  Her reverie had taken me to the past. I remembered how we used to tell each other our secrets, quietly pouring our memories into each other in the dark. We would talk and laugh and share our dreams while lying in bed, our love a bond that would never break. Her gentle smile as she stroked my chest was forever etched into my memory.

  But now, along the riverbank, we were each solitary strangers wandering the world, bereft of the one whom their soul loved. And only I knew it. She did not remember the sting of losing such a love. Perhaps it was a blessing for her to forget, but it was a loss that had tormented me every day since I’d awoken in a pool of her blood.

  Every so often she would peer into the area where I hid, as if she sensed my presence. But then she’d continued on, her golden waves of hair flowing out behind her in the cool breeze.

  She’d turned to pass over the river. I’d been two blocks back, hiding in the crowd. I’d glanced up, gauging where I should position myself along the rue to continue my vigil.

  And then the demon Menelaus had materialized directly into her path. In disbelief, I had watched as the bastard set a simple trap.

  My rage had exploded, and I’d taken off at a dead run before teleporting to eat up the distance. She slipped through my fingers at the last moment, taken by the demon king. But I would not let her go. Not this time.

  Now I’d done away with all pretense of hiding my powers—I skipped through space to keep up with the car. I couldn’t see what was going on inside the quick-moving vehicle, but I swore I would make Menelaus pay for his treachery.

  Chapter Four

  Elena

  The car turned down a wooded lane, passed through a set of wrought iron gates, and sped to an enormous chateau. It was set in an isolated clearing, the road no longer visible. The building rose from the landscape like a miniature mountain range, its dark roofs and turrets slashing through the night sky.

  I remained silent after the creature’s bizarre claim that we were married. He continued to study me, watching my every move as if he were measuring my breaths. When the car came to a stop, he rose and held out a hand to help me from the car. I ignored him and exited, searching my surroundings for any avenues of escape. The yard was large and open, but I doubted I had a chance of outrunning my captor, and my magic was of no use. The bangles on my wrists had tightened such that they felt welded to my skin.

  I would have to wait until I saw an opening, sometime when he wasn’t watching me. And once I got the metal off my wrists? I’d return to this place and destroy it down to the foundation.

  “Please, step inside.” He gestured to the large front doors that swung inward as a butler appeared.

  I climbed the steps into the foyer. A glittering row of chandeliers lit my way along the bloodred marble floor. I continued on through the wide hallway, opulence in every detail of the paneled walls and the pieces of art expertly placed at intervals. The home was palatial. So much so that I almost felt small, as if crushed under the weight of its finery and sheer size. Each fine work of art and furnishing was just more kindling for the fire I would bring down later.

  I scanned the rooms as I passed, looking for potential weapons and examining the windows for escape. Each one was accented with crossed iron pieces in a scarab motif, serving as a decoration and an effective jail. The stranger trailed a few steps behind me. I could sense his gaze roving over my backside, still taking in every move.

  “In here.” The stranger waved me into a room with a roaring fire. It was a drawing room, tufted leather couches and a delicate writing desk gracing the polished wood floors. The door closed behind us, a solid thunk followed by the click of the lock. I was once again trapped with him.

  My throat closed up, but I kept myself on an even keel. This wasn’t the first time an enemy had underestimated me.

  “Please, sit.”

  I perched on the nearest couch and awaited my chance to strike. It would come. The stranger would eventually make the wrong move and give me the opportunity to sweep the game board and take him down with it.

  The stranger took the seat opposite me, leaned back, and steepled his fingers. “I know you don’t believe me when I say I’m your husband. But, I assure you, Helen—and that is your true name—you are my wife.”

  I said nothing and took stock of the room. Only two doors—the one we’d entered through and another, behind the stranger. The first was locked and the other a mystery. The windows bore the same scarab bars, no help there. I pinned my hopes on the mystery door.

  “Would you like to know how I found you?”

  He tapped his fingers together as he watched me, a smug smile taking over his features.

  “Yes.” Any information about how he’d tracked me down could help me find him, when I was out of here and had the
full contingent of Artemis’s warrior maidens at my back. This was not the sort of slight I would let go unpunished. I only wondered how much I could make him scream before I took his head. I smiled a little at the thought.

  He frowned, as if he knew I was fantasizing about his death. Then he regained his mask of smug pleasure. “I knew where you were the moment you left the confines of Olympus. All this time, I’d thought you dead. But, as a demon’s mate, you are marked. It’s like a beacon of sorts, alerting me to what’s mine. Fate was such that I was in the city the moment you arrived. You were so close, I could feel my mark. I could feel you, Helen.”

  My unease grew. I was surprised to hear he was a demon, but more than that, angered by his words of ownership. It was true that demons did mark their mates, but I bore no such mark. I kept my demeanor even. “The only mark I bear is that of Artemis.” I turned my head to the side and ran my fingertips down the runes. “And this birthmark.” I turned my head to the other side, showing him the red mark at my jugular. Pointing out just how wrong he was.

  He growled as I touched the pink skin.

  “Not there.” He rose and sat next to me, too close for my comfort, but I did not move. A cold sweat broke out along my brow, and my stomach churned. Something stirred beneath my breast, a self-preservation instinct that demanded I get away from this creature. His nearness dredged up some horrible darkness inside me that I hadn’t even known was there.

  “Here.” He ripped through the back of my sweater in a smooth movement, leaving me bare. I raised a hand to strike him, but he caught it and twisted it behind me. Forcing me forward, he ran his free hand down my exposed flesh. Then without warning, he slicked his tongue along the top of my shoulder blade. I cried out and felt a searing pain where his mouth had been.

  Craning my head around, I saw a symbol burned into my shoulder blade. It was a scarlet mark, twisted and slashing—the demon language. No.