Moonlight Captivation [Moon Shadows Book 1] Page 13

  "Lord Derkin has a hold on a good quarter of the demon quadrant. Belshazzar has been warring with Derkin for the past few thousand years. Then there's Beelzebub, Jezebel and any other Outer Realm creatures they've employed."

  "What's that, four armies against one? Not that you could call us an army,” Mark pointed out.

  "We're soooo doomed,” groaned Darren.

  "Pity you don't have your full powers anymore—they could have come in mighty helpful about now,” said Slazzamar.

  "We need to draw the fight to a more neutral ground where spell casting and magic use is inhibited and a sword can swing freely. There's only once place I know of.” Neman and Slazzamar looked at each other. They were both on the same page.

  "The Sulfur Canyons."

  A scream made everyone jump to their feet. Neman flashed from the library to the open courtyard where Nessa stood, facing a hulking, horned beast who grinned down at her.

  "My, what a bonnie, buxom lass ye be, wench. Dinna a wonder even a fertility god canna resist ye,” he told her, in a thick Highland accent. “Tell me when he be done riding ya—I'd like a fair go, too."

  Neman clutched his sword and slammed himself right between Lord Derkin and Vanessa, pushing her back. The Outer Realm warlord never flinched.

  "What in the blue blazes is that?” gasped Nessa.

  Darren, Slazzamar and Mark raced into the courtyard, ready to help defend her.

  "Lord Derkin, at your service, lassie.” He gave an overly dramatic bow to Nessa.

  Neman noted he took his eyes off him and his sword, indicating he was no threat to them.

  "What do you want, Derkin? I've no time for your games."

  "I've heard ya having a wee bit o’ trouble with Belshazzar, laddie. My enemy's enemy is my friend."

  "How did you get in here?” Neman demanded, never lowering his guard.

  Nessa moved to stand by his side. There was more curiosity in her eyes than fear.

  "Your security is lacking, laddie. Anywho, ya shanna be looking to wave your toothpick at your new allies, lad."

  "Allies? You're a demon and a warlord. Who's to say you're not here to stop the prophecy?"

  A grin split his large, goateed face. “Been listening to too many rumors, laddie. If you've been fighting as long as I have, the sound of a wee bit of peace be mighty tempting. I'm long overdue a holiday and a lusty wench to bed.” His gaze flashed to Vanessa, winking at her.

  "You have just as much to lose if the rift between Realms is sealed, Derkin. Why would you want something which will seal you in?"

  "Aaah, therra ye be wrong, lad. If ya remember, I be a creator, half-god meself. ‘Tis no skin off my nose if the Realms are sealed off or not—'tis Belshazzar I wanta see put in his place. So, lassie, do you have a buxom sister perhaps? I do like my women well rounded,” he persisted with a grin.

  Vanessa laughed, setting Neman on edge.

  "I'm beginning to suspect everyone from these Outer and Lower Realms are nothing but walking horndogs,” she said.

  Derkin gave a chuckle. “Ye be right about that, lassie.” His face turned serious. “But it be time for peace and not only I agree—my army will fight for ya, lass, and ya wee bairn. I bring friends to fight as well."

  As if on cue, a tall, pale man with luminescent eyes dressed in a tuxedo and sipping what looked like a martini glass full of blood appeared, followed by a very large blond werewolf. Vanessa gasped.

  "Oh brilliant—who let in the stray?” asked the vampire in a very broad British accent with a roll of his luminescent, deep green eyes.

  The werewolf snarled at the vampire before shifting into a naked, large-muscled, perfectly tanned man with honey-gold hair and deep blue eyes.

  "Shut it, you overgrown leech."

  The air sizzled with the hostility between the two.

  "At least I'm not a walking fleabag."

  "My bite is bigger than your bark, fang boy,” snapped the werewolf.

  "Oh, please, I'm at a loss for better insults than that, Scooby."

  "Hang on, hold the haggle, I'll get some popcorn,” Nessa said, with a smirk, obviously enjoying the banter between the vampire and werewolf. Nessa tugged on Neman's arm. “What's with the James Bond vampire and overly hairy Rin Tin Tin?” Nessa glanced between the werewolf and the vampire.

  The vampire swept forward, taking Nessa's hand in his and bowing over it. “Count Vladimir Draco, at your service, my lady."

  Neman's blood was beginning to boil as Nessa giggled at him.

  The werewolf sniffed the air. “What an alluring scent.” His eyes turned toward Nessa.

  Neman guessed he wasn't the only one to scent her overly charged, hormonal state of pregnancy. Striding forward, unabashed by his nakedness, the werewolf shoved the vampire aside.

  "Lucas Valknar, Lycan King. I must say you have a most charming scent."

  "Keep your dog on a leash, Derkin,” Neman said in a low, warning tone, pulling Nessa back and away from the trio. “And put some damn clothes on, Valknar."

  "Hey, I don't mind,” Nessa piped up. She seemed to be enjoying herself way too much to Neman's frustration. Valknar smiled at Vanessa. “Ever considered being a pin-up boy? You'd make a fortune with that—"

  "Vanessa,” snapped Neman, in a jealous rage.

  She just raised an eyebrow at him. Derkin chuckled. A set of dark, casual clothes appeared on the werewolf.

  "Spoilsport.” She nudged him in the back.

  "I'm liking your lassie even more, Neman—she has real spirit."

  "So, why are they here?” asked Nessa.

  "I believe we have just gained an army, sweetness. You need to understand—if we don't do something, they are going to kill you and the babies. If we've any chance of ever having peace and making this prophecy come to pass, we have to stop those who want you dead."

  "Okay, so hiding out in the Bahamas isn't an option?"

  Derkin laughed. “Sure you dunna wish to swap your god for a demon, lassie? We're hell on wheels in the sack."

  Nessa shook her head. “One god's enough for me, thanks."

  Neman was somewhat relieved by her words.

  "Stud-r-us on order in the Outer Realm, huh?” Darren quipped to Slazzamar, who strode forward.

  "Even with his army, Neman, we are still greatly outnumbered—the odds are stacked in their favor,” Slazzamar pointed out. “If we draw their armies out, it is sheer suicide."

  "We cannot hide in here forever,” growled Neman.

  "Showing the side of yellow now, Slazzamar? It's good odds ta me, laddie—just more of Belshazzar's blood ta squeeze through my fingers."

  "No, this just may work. I have possession of a weapon which will aide us,” said Neman. “Mark, show our guests to the library.” Taking hold of Nessa's arm, he pulled her in the other direction as Mark came forward.

  "Gentlemen, if you will follow me, please.” The three of them followed Mark into the hall, the vampire and the werewolf arguing, Darren and Slazzamar taking up the rear.

  "I think you should get some rest, love,” he told her.

  Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief and mirth. “And miss all the fun? I don't think so. They're here for me, so why disappoint them?” She cocked her head, regarding him. “I do believe the great god Neman is jealous."

  Neman didn't want to acknowledge or deny the fact, and he didn't want any men near his woman, naked or not. Neman couldn't help the surge of possessive jealousy he felt for Vanessa.

  "They are my babies you're carrying, no one else's. You belong to me, Vanessa—I won't let anyone take you from me."

  A look of hurt flashed across her face. “I wonder if you'd be saying such things if there were no babies, Neman."

  He looked directly into her eyes, while pulling her into his arms. “Yes, sweetness, I would. Fates and prophecy be damned, I've waited a long time for you, Vanessa, and I won't lose you."

  The smile returned to her eyes. “You could never lose me, Neman. You're the only hunk-a-lic
ous god I want and need, but you gotta give a girl a break for wanting to have a little fun."

  She smoothed her hands up over his chest, winding them up and around his neck. Her smile was soft and seductive, desire obvious in her eyes. She licked her lips to tempt him.

  "Darling, when you have the best, everything else is less than second rate."

  He knew she was pampering his ego, but it worked. He lowered his head, gently running his tongue around her lips. Letting out a soft sigh, she parted them invitingly. He swept his tongue in, keeping a firm pressure on her mouth. As their tongues danced, desire shot through Neman's body. He crushed her against him, heatedly possessing and dominating every part of the kiss like he needed to imprint himself upon her, to show her she belonged to him. He groaned, tearing himself away. “Sweetness, what you do to me.” He could feel her trembling in his arms, understanding her need, but now was not the time. When this was all over, he'd spend several years making love to her.

  "Uh hum.” A loud clearing of a throat alerted them to someone else's presence. Neman broke away from Vanessa's sweet warmth.

  Thomas Armod stood at a respectable distance, a large clipboard and digital camera in his hands. “Forgive the interruption. I have been in the upper temple. It truly is a wonder to be here, but as I was making observational notes, a strange occurrence happened, and I wonder if you could shed some light on it for me."

  "What is it, Thomas?” Neman asked the priest and archaeologist who had been snooping around everywhere, overexcited to be in an actual, functioning Ziggurat.

  "There are four large symbols on the four comers of the temple walls which do not match with your ancient language, but then they began to glow red."

  "Stay here.” Neman teleported into the temple. It was lit up with torches. Neman hadn't stepped foot in this part of the Ziggurat since Sin sunk it four thousand years ago. The effigies and statues of him still remained standing. He looked up. True to Thomas’ words, the protection symbols, which had been set in place by Sin, were glowing. It meant only one thing. Something was attempting to penetrate its defenses. It took powerful magic for that to happen. Neman flashed back to the courtyard, grabbed Vanessa's hand and almost dragged her behind him as he made his way to the library. Thomas followed behind.

  The library was looking overly crowded. Derkin and Slazzamar were in conversation, while the vampire and werewolf glared at each other from across opposite sides of the room, and Mark leaned nervously against his desk.

  "Good gracious, what is that?” Thomas began, his eyes wide and staring at Lord Derkin.

  "It's better not to ask,” Nessa told him, then looked back to Neman. “Neman, what's going on?” Her voice was low and full of concern.

  "You want a new war, Derkin, you're about to get one. We have about twenty minutes before the protection seal which keeps this place hidden is broken."

  "How did they find us?” Mark looked puzzled.

  "Lad, if I could find ya, then no doubt others will,” Derkin said.

  "What about the Sulfur Canyon idea?” Slazzamar asked.

  "You can't use magic there,” Valknar said, with a frown.

  "That's the whole idea—it will come down to strength and skill, not magic and powers,” said Slazzamar.

  "I like ya thinking, lad,” Derkin said. “How do ya draw them out, if therra coming here?"

  "They'll figure it out when they find the place empty,” said Neman. “We're going to the Outer Realm. Call in your armies, everyone—it seems we're going into battle sooner rather than later."

  "Oh goodie, I get to see this place at last,” Vanessa said her tone less than excited.

  "Darren, get Mona and make sure Vanessa has everything she needs for a trip to care for her and the babies."

  "Did ya say babies, as in more than one?” Derkin asked.

  Nessa held up her hand with two fingers. “Twins."

  "I thought therra be only one prince?” Derkin looked puzzled.

  Nessa shrugged. “I haven't read this prophecy, so I don't have a clue either."

  "We haven't time for this—we have to go now,” said Neman.

  Darren walked forward. “C'mon, honey—better do what your big guy says."

  "Just whose side are you on anyway?” Nessa said, walking out the door.

  Derkin turned on Neman. “You gonna take her and ya wee bairns to the Outer Realm, laddie?"

  "Only for as long as it takes to draw them out. You'd best make sure your army is ready,” Neman instructed Derkin.

  Derkin nodded and vanished.

  "Thomas, prepare your men, as I have a particular job for you. Mark, I would prefer you to head topside and stay out of harm's way."

  Mark just stared at him. “I bloody well will not. If there's going to be a fight, I want in all the way."

  Neman gave his friend a pat on the shoulder along with a nod.

  Mark walked out of the library to go armor up.

  "Slazzamar, show the others the weapons room."

  "What about you?” Slazzamar asked.

  "I've got it covered.” With that, he teleported out.

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  Chapter 16

  Nessa licked her lips. Every part of her body flared with lust. She drew in a sharp breath. It was hardly appropriate at a time like this, but damn, Neman was frigging hot! Worn black leather encased his upper, muscled torso, and on top of that was a layer of unpolished, plated armor. Each section of the armor showed intricately carved symbols. Dead center, connecting the lower part of the armor, were strips of metal buckles and straps. Protecting his lower stomach was an unmistakable moon symbol, more gothic buckles and straps which reached down to his hips, winding down over his black leather pants to his upper thighs. Heavy, thick boots covered his feet. His bulging shoulder muscles were bare.

  The lower part of his arms to his wrists were bound in more strips of tough black leather. A blood-red cape hung down his back. Deadly sharp, three to four-inch blades were strapped along his waist within easy reach of his hands. He looked every bit the ancient warrior, ready to do battle and to Nessa, he also looked dangerously sexy.

  "You know what they say about a man in leather."

  Darren nudged Nessa back into reality from her daydream of jumping Neman and screwing his brains out—everyone else be dammed.

  "Uuuhh—I—uh—"

  "I'll get a chin wipe for your drool, honey.” Darren sniggered, understanding her dilemma. “You should see how my elf is dressed. Mmmmm, I'm going to insist he wear it next time we find some time to ourselves."

  Nessa knew exactly where he was coming from, as she was having the exact same thoughts about Neman.

  Neman moved to pick up a shiny shield full of decorative symbols and a long, dangerous scimitar with a sharp, jagged edge. He hooked the blade to his waist, balancing the shield with one strong arm.

  "Is that what I think it is?” gasped Thomas, coming up behind them. “I thought it was just a myth."

  "What's he talking about?” Darren asked.

  "The weapons and armor of Anu."

  "Don't touch them,” Neman said in low, warning tone. “Only someone born of a god can touch them without perishing."

  Thomas stepped back.

  "Mona's out safely,” said Mark. He had a collection of guns strapped to his own torso with a few blades.

  "My men are ready. We don't have the ability to teleport, as you do though,” Thomas said, his eyes still on Neman's weapon and shield.

  "They don't need to. Humans in the Outer Realm would be easy fodder against supernatural creatures. Your main duty is to protect Vanessa."

  Thomas nodded. “I shall not fail."

  "Hang on, I'm not coming with you?” Nessa shot him a look, as she didn't want to be left behind.

  "Yes, you will for a short time, but not during battle.” She understood from his firm tone that he would not be swayed.

  It didn't stop her from pouting at him.

  "Think of your babies—
the prophecy must be fulfilled,” said Thomas.

  She knew they were right. What could she possibly do in the midst of battle?

  "I just don't like the idea of you going out fighting, while I'm stuck behind twiddling my thumbs,” she said, with annoyance.

  "Sweetness, I know you want to fight, too, but your mission is more important,” said Neman. He walked over to gently run his hand over her lower stomach. “Protecting our little treasures is what you must do."

  "You've a mighty fine weapons collection, Neman,” Vladimir Draco said. He no longer wore the tux, but more medieval armor. He swung a blade around a few times, as if warming up. Lucas Valknar hadn't changed into anything. He stood there with his arms folded, just watching the vampire.

  "I can kill more with my jaws, than you can with your toothpick, you pale-faced tick."

  "Oh shut up, Fido."

  "I'll wager I kill more demons than you, coffin lurker."

  Nessa watched the two with great amusement. The vampire pretended to look very bored at the idea.

  "I'll keep score, whelp."

  "Children, keep it for the battle,” Derkin said, nodding at Neman.

  Slazzamar was the last to stride in, adjusting the straps on his own leather and metal armor. Darren grinned like an idiot as he approached.

  "The barren plains immediately beyond the Sulfur Canyon,” Neman said, wrapping his free arm around her. His golden eyes looked down into hers, while a small, knowing smile twitched at the corners of his lips. “Keep those thoughts for later, love,” he whispered near her ear.

  "How do you know what I'm thinking?"

  "I can smell your desire, sweetness."

  Nessa blushed, feeling the energy in the air immediately before they popped out.

  Wind whipped around them, billowing out Neman's red cloak. The powerful smell of Sulfur Canyon wafted across the barren plains to reach their location. Once they stepped through into the canyon, not any type of magic could be used, not even the power to teleport. The Sulfur Canyon was also known as the Dead Zone of the Outer Realm.

  Nessa stepped away from Neman to look around with wonder in her eyes. Then she held her nose. “Pee-uwww. I was expecting this place to be, well, less smelly."