Janrae Frank Lycan Blood 04 Kynyr's War

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growled behind his lion's mask. "Would you rather it had been you?"
Malthus scowled, knelt beside Nesswen, and pulled the bird mask off. He took a
blue vial from his pouch, and lifted
Nesswen's head up. "Drink this. All of it. It will take the pain away."
Nesswen took a long swallow of Pollendine, and closed his eyes.
"All of it." Malthus coaxed in soothing tones, putting the vial to Nesswen's
lips again. "You must take all of it, or it won't help."
Nesswen took another long swallow.
"You do want the pain to stop, don't you?"
"Yes," Nesswen whispered hoarsely.
"Then take the last swallow. When we're finished, I'll find you a healer."
Nesswen gave Malthus a look of gratitude, and drank the last of it.
Malthus pocketed the vial. "Grab a pillow off that sofa for
Nesswen. It looks serious, but I don't think it's fatal."
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Oswyl put the pillow beneath Nesswen's head. "Don't die on us."
"I won't." Gradually the lines of pain eased in Nesswen's face, his eyes
closed, and he lost consciousness.
Malthus stood, walked back to Caimbeul, and kicked him.
"That's for Nesswen."
"Did you like sticking him, little dog?" Preece ruffled Rheu's hair. "Do you
want to stick another?"
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Fourteen-year-old Rheu looked up at Preece. "It's exciting."
Seeing what Malthus had done, Yren also kicked Caimbeul.
"For Nesswen."
"I ought to cut his damned cock off." Shalto spat on
Caimbeul. "If he's Patton, as you say, then he's been sticking it in the women
too."
Preece parted his robe and pissed on the lawgiver.
"Wheee!" He shook his cock to get rid of the dribbles.
They all followed suit, until it seemed like there was as much urine as blood
on the floor.
Caimbeul's awareness grayed and grew misty, but he cried out again with his
mind and emotions to Pandeena.

Pandeena, flee. Take Clodagh
.
What happened?
Pandeena asked in his head.
I'm dying. They're coming for you next. One of ... is
Yren. Serpent called his name. And Nesswen.
The Serpent pushed at them. "We're losing time. Search the house. Find
Clodagh."
The youths dispersed, leaving Malthus alone with Nesswen and Caimbeul. As he
knelt beside Caimbeul, he noticed the wolf's head Godmark on the lawgiver's
chest near the junction of his shoulder. "Godmarked.... "Malthus ripped a
piece of
Caimbeul's robe off and used it to wipe the Godmark clean, careful not to
touch it and burn his fingers.
"I don't recognize it. I've never seen a godmarked lycan before. It's a shame
you're in no condition to explain it. You were an interesting old wolf, pity
you stuck your nose where it didn't belong." Malthus shoved his fingers into
the wounds,
Kynyr's War [Lycan Blood Vol. IV]
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glanced to see that he was alone, and licked them off.
"Delicious."
Malthus took out a second vial of the fireborn poison, pouring a little into
each of the wounds until he had used up the last of it. Then Malthus put the
glass rod to Caimbeul's chest, beside, but not touching, the Godmark. He sent
a lance of death magic into Caimbeul. The wolf's eyes bulged and he gasped
like a landed fish.
Caimbeul's lips silently formed the words, "Cockwhoring bastard."
"Intriguing. There's more life left in you than I expected.
You might have been fun to play with in my dungeons."
Malthus slipped the rod into his pouch, placed his palm on
Caimbeul's chest, and stabbed his dark energies into
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Caimbeul's heart savagely.
Caimbeul felt Malthus' Readers gift swirl through his body, and knew the
asshole was enjoying the taste of his suffering, dining on it.
"Relax and it will soon be over." Malthus spoke in a venomously soothing tone.
"Fight me and the pain will be worse."
"Go to hell," Caimbeul mouthed the words. Knowing the longer it took him to
die the more time he bought Pandeena to escape; Caimbeul reached into his
fading gifts and wrapped what little strength remained to him around his
heart.
"I've killed fireborn before. I can make it slow and agonizing or I can make
it swift. It depends on how hard you fight me."
Kynyr's War [Lycan Blood Vol. IV]
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"Damn you."
Malthus' lips drew back into a sneer. He sent a black wave of death into all
the organs of Caimbeul's body.
Caimbeul experienced a final flicker of consciousness, realizing the terrible
power of the Serpent, wondering if he might be more than a match for a
yuwenghau.
Tala, Master of
Wolves, to thee I commend my spirit. Find me worthy to stand in your presence.
Malthus hit him again, harder still. Caimbeul's body jerked, gave a convulsive
shudder, and stilled. His lips parted and his eyes stared unseeing. An intense
erotic pleasure rippled through Malthus in the instant that Caimbeul died. It
whetted his necromantic hunger and he wanted more.
The Butchering Serpent stood up, laughing softly, took his cock out, and
urinated on the lawgiver's corpse. He went to
Nesswen, put two fingers to the side of his neck as if feeling for a pulse,
and Read him necromantically. While the wound had been serious, it had not
necessarily been fatal, and a healer might have been able to save Nesswen.
However, the overdose was doing its job Nesswen's heart was slowing to a stop.
Malthus gave the organ a small squeeze with his powers and stilled it.
Although Nesswen's death tasted good, it had been too peaceful to sate
Malthus' appetite.
The others gathered into the sitting room.
"She's not here." Shalto adjusted his cat mask.
"What about Nesswen?" Oswyl knelt by his friend.
Malthus glanced at Oswyl, then the others, saying with a sad edge to his [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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