Bound By Darkness Page 0,91
trying to dig out the old one?”
“Because I assumed you would disapprove of my methods.”
“Why would I disapprove?”
Rafael waved a bony hand. “You seem to be rather attached to your tribesmen.”
Was that supposed to be a joke?
“What do my tribesmen have to do with your altar?”
“You are not stupid, Tearloch.” Without warning the spirit moved to stand next to the child, who was cradled on a flat rock in the center of the cavern. The dark robes flowed around his skeletal frame as he bent down to study the babe, who remained locked in a deep sleep. “The Dark Lord demands a sacrifice. The altar must flow with blood.”
Shock blasted through Tearloch at the unemotional pronouncement that he would have to watch his brothers being slaughtered like helpless lambs.
But why?
He’d known from the moment he’d conjured Rafael that he was an immoral bastard who would willingly destroy the world to sate his lust for power.
What was a little thing like murdering an entire tribe?
The knotted muscle of his jaw made it almost impossible to speak.
“ No.”
“Yes.” Rafael stabbed him with a ruthless glare. “There is no other means.”
“You treacherous snake.” Tearloch instinctively backed away, having a dim recollection of Ariyal’s warnings. Why hadn’t he listened to his prince instead of allowing himself to be swayed by the voices that filled his mind with confusion? “This has been your plan all along, hasn’t it?”
The wizard straightened, his hand toying with the pendant around his neck.
“Plan?”
Tearloch bumped into the far wall, his stomach cramping with horror.
“Gods, I’ve been so blind. You deliberately lured me and my brothers to these caves.”
“Do not be an idiot,” Rafael snapped.
“You’re right to fear the wizard,” a voice assured him and Tearloch turned to watch as Sergei stepped into the cavern looking considerably worse for the wear with his silver hair tangled and his once-exquisite suit torn and filthy. But there was an arrogant confidence on his slender face as he moved to stand at Tearloch’s side. “I did warn you, if you will recall.”
“Mage.” Rafael made the word sound like a curse. “I should have known you would turn up like the proverbial bad penny.”
Sergei never allowed his attention to waver from Tearloch, a frantic gleam in his pale eyes.
“Listen to me, Sylvermyst. The spirit can’t be trusted.”
“And I suppose you are prepared to swear that your motives are purely honorable?” Rafael mocked.
The mage shrugged, still keeping his attention locked on Tearloch.
“I’ve never hidden my ambitions, but my plans to resurrect the master have never included slaughtering my allies.”
There was a low hiss from the wizard, his power swirling through the air and seeping through Tearloch’s mind, trying to confuse him with that terrifying fog.
“That is because you do not possess the skills or the power needed for the ceremony,” Rafael said in a low, singsong voice that sought to entrap the listener. “You may be capable of bluffing the gullible, but I am not so easily fooled. Nor is Tearloch.”
Sergei grasped Tearloch’s arm, sending a prickle of magic over his skin, no doubt in an attempt to counter Rafael’s spell.
“You know nothing, wizard.” Sergei’s fingers dug into Tearloch’s arm. “My powers are greater than you could ever imagine.”
Rafael’s derisive laughter bounced off the smooth walls. “No, you are the one who must imagine them because they do not exist except in your fantasies.”
The mage whirled toward the taunting wizard, his face red with fury.
“Shall I prove how wrong you are?”
Tearloch shook his head, wondering if he was the one who was insane.
“We’re about to be massacred by vampires and you two want to waste time measuring your magical dicks?” he rasped.
Rafael waved his too-thin hand, something that might have been frustration burning in his pitiless eyes.
“I want you to realize that the mage cannot fulfill the promises he made to you.”
Tearloch snorted. “Right now all I care about is getting the hell out of here.”
“A wise choice,” Sergei murmured.
The wise choice would have been to remain loyal to Ariyal as all his instincts had urged, he silently told himself. A damned shame he was only realizing the truth when it was too late.
“Get the child,” he commanded the mage.
“Of course.”
Sergei warily moved forward, his gaze on the wizard, who was frowning at Tearloch in disbelief. Clearly he couldn’t believe that his sway over Tearloch wasn’t as great as he’d thought.
“Do not be hasty, my friend.”
“Hasty?” Tearloch’s laughter held an edge of hysteria. “Like an idiot I’ve allowed both of you to manipulate and use me