Taken: The Vampire's Concubine: Part Three Read online

  Taken: The Vampire's Concubine

  Part Three

  By: Desiree Broussard

  Copyright Notice:

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events listed in this book are products of the author's imagination, or used fictitiously.

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  Taken: The Vampire's Concubine - Part Three

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  © 2014 Desiree Broussard

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  Chapter 1

  Somewhere in the mountains of Legionnaire...

  Sand and gravel from the bed of the wagon ground into his open wounds as it bounced along the uneven dirt road. Zander could smell the traces of old blood from the ones that came before him, his churning stomach nearly giving him away. So far his captors were unaware that he'd regained consciousness, he preferred to keep it that way.

  Despite his grogginess, Zander wasn't unaware of the severity of his injuries. The pain was horrendous, but it wasn't surprising. Just about every bone in his body was broken, but the bastards hadn't been satisfied with that. No, they had to cut his tongue out as well, waiting until he was unconscious to do it. Had they been worried he'd cry out for help? It was a foolish notion. He wasn't a weak man; he was the type of man used to fighting his way out of the worst situations. Zander had too much pride to ever beg, even if it meant his life. His tongue would eventually grow back, but it would take a long time to regenerate. He didn't know exactly how long, though. His entire healing abilities would be delayed by the injuries he'd sustained. His body could only do so much.

  He snarled silently, the tip of one fang piercing his bruised and bloody lip. Zander had been taken by the Seiyadians, though he didn't know why. Known as the most vicious group on their planet, they'd had his abduction all planned out. Zander had been attacked on his way back to his quarters. It had taken six of them to take him down. The fight between them had been violent, and Zander hadn't been the only one to sustain serious injuries. Realizing that they couldn't subdue him without knocking him out, their goal had changed. He'd awoke in an old and abandoned barn, just outside of Golden Harbor.

  His strength and his determination to avoid capture had only angered them further. The torture they'd put him through had been barbaric and horrific, even to a seasoned guard like him. The Neiyadians were a peaceful group of people, unless they were crossed. Even then, though, they didn't resort to the punishments of old. They preferred fairer, more humane ways of discipline, although their punishments generally suited the crime.

  None of that applied to his current situation. He'd committed no crime, but even if he had, he owed nothing to the ones that held him captive. Zander's body stiffened with rage and anger. He wanted nothing more than to come to his feet and attack those that had dared to abduct him. The genteel, easy-going ways of his life were only a formality, a mask even, for underneath it all he was a powerful, alpha vampire, and given the opportunity, he wouldn't think twice about destroying each and every one of the men that had wronged him. And he would. Nothing would stand in the way of his freedom.

  He bared his fangs against the sand and gravel, his blood-thirst pulsating throughout his body. It went against his nature to delay their retribution, but he wasn't foolish. He was surrounded by vampires, his body weak. His death would accomplish nothing.

  “I wonder how long that big bastard will remain unconscious? Hopefully long enough,” one of the men in the front of the wagon mused. “He's tough, I'll give him that. We beat the hell out of him, I didn't think we'd ever bring him down, you know? That barn was covered with blood. It's made me hungry.”

  The other man made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat before growling out, “Don't you ever think about anything but whoring and eating? If you're hungry, that's too damned bad. We're not stopping, at least not until we've delivered this prick. I'm not going against Laryn just because you want to eat.”

  “Why the hell did they make us take a wagon?” the first man shifted in his seat before continuing, “It's not like they needed one. They could have had him back to Diabolos in no time flat. If you ask me, they've really fucked themselves by taking a guard. Kosmas won't let this rest. Personally I don't want to be involved when it all goes down.”

  The other man laughed, his voice harsh and grating to Zander's ears. “You stupid fuck,” he spat out, his voice filled with glee. “Weren't you paying attention? Nobody is coming after this bastard, much less Kosmas. Who do you think ordered for him to be taken? Not to mention, he paid quite a hefty fee. For whatever reason he wanted rid of him, and even more, he wanted to make sure he was never coming back.”

  They both laughed again before falling silent, leaving Zander to simmer in rage. The two had answered his questions without even realizing it. Kosmas had wanted him out of the way but why? Keely. Suddenly it all clicked into place.

  Kosmas had discovered them, it was that simple. The how or why really didn't matter, at least not to Zander. All he cared about was getting back to Golden Harbor. Kosmas was ruthless when he wanted to be, which was apparent from his captivity. He'd clearly viewed Kosmas as a threat, and he was determined to have the concubine. So much so, he would betray one of his own in his quest.

  His thoughts moved to Keely. Her refusals to submit to Kosmas would likely keep him entertained for awhile, but his fascination with the concubine wouldn't last forever. She'd be forced to submit to him or face his wrath, and even then, he would tire of her. Would she, too, find herself with a one-way ticket to Diabolos?

  Zander inhaled deeply. The air was thin, which told him they were in the mountains. He frowned. Instead of crossing into their territory by water, the Seiyadians had taken the much longer route. After they came down from the mountain, they would have to travel through the desert. It wasn't used often and with good reason. The desert was a dead zone. Even Legionnaire's most predatory animals avoided it, and with good reason. Nothing could stand against a sand dweller and defeat it.

  The sand dwellers were large, snake-like creatures that lived underneath the surface of the desert. They grew up to a hundred feet long and were easily able to survive the drastic temperatures found there. And even though their sources of food were rare, it didn't affect them. They went into some type of stasis until they were roused by the scent of something living. Then they came back to life, quickly moving through the sandy surfaces to devour their prey from below.

  Were the Seiyadians addled? Zander thought to himself. Only a fool would take the route they'd picked, unless they had some kind of ulterior motive. His jaw tightened as he considered it. Maybe they did have a motive, after all.

  Hadn't they said that Kosmas wanted to make sure that he never returned? What better way to do it than dump him in the desert? Bloody and broken, the sand dwellers would be on him in a heartbeat. It was a horrible way to die; one that wouldn't even allow a man to retain their dignity. Zander thought back over the conversation he'd overheard. No wonder they hoped he'd remain unconscious. It would have made their job a lot easier, but it was too damned bad for them. He was wide awake, his thoughts alrea
dy on the best way to save his ass. Their ill-fated plan was about to go awry. The bastards were right about one thing. He didn't go down easy.

  * * * * *

  “Oh, ma'am,” Cara said, her voice filled with awe as she rearranged a curl over Keely's shoulder. “You look beautiful.”

  Keely stared at the reflection in the mirror with no emotion. She was indifferent to the image that she saw, wishing Cara's words were a lie. They weren't, though. The woman that stared back at her was breathtakingly beautiful with her hair artfully arranged in a mass of curls, and her face carefully made up to accentuate the green of her eyes and dress. The golden lighting only made her skin luminous, while picking up the auburn undertones of her hair and making it glow. Keely looked everything she wasn't, which was calm, cool, and collected.

  She'd went against Kosmas' orders by wearing the green gown. She'd hoped the color would make her skin appear to be sallow, but it had the opposite effect. The material matched her eyes perfectly, the design of the gown accentuating every curve she had. Her wardrobe had been carefully selected to suit her. By Kosmas? It was hard to remain nonchalant as she pictured him touching and approving the very material that graced her body.

  It was a pity that dresses like these had went out of style. The English women from the days of old had known the power of a feminine form dressed in a flattering gown. They were a weapon in their own right, displaying and presenting a woman's body in a way that most men would have found stimulating... Enough so to discover its secrets in the comfort of a marital bed.

  Keely hated it. Resentment welled up inside of her, evident by the flash of fire in her green eyes. Why her, when the other concubines had been equally as attractive? There was nothing she could do about it, though. Kosmas had effectively laid his trap, leaving her no room for escape.

  “Thank you,” Keely murmured quietly, coming to her feet to walk to the window. Despite her circumstances, none of it was Cara's fault. It would serve no purpose to take her anger and resentment out on the other woman, she'd been nothing but kind to her. Kosmas was a different store, though.

  “It was my pleasure, ma'am,” Cara replied, her voice practically bursting with happiness. She bustled around behind Keely as she cleaned up, unaware of Keely's dark mood. “If you don't mind me saying so, you're the nicest concubine I've ever served. If I displease you in anyway, please let me know.” Her voice dropped a notch as she added, “I'd prefer to remain here as your personal servant, if you'll continue to have me.”

  Keely swung around to face her, temporarily distracted from her own thoughts. Cara stood next to the mirror, her face tilted down as she awaited her words. “Cara, I'm very happy with your work,” she told her, surprised. “I didn't realize that there was any doubt. I am curious about you, though. How is it that you're a servant? You aren't forced, are you?”

  “Oh, no, ma'am,” Cara replied, her eyes lifting up to Keely's. They were filled with relief, which only made Keely feel bad. She hadn't realized that Cara feared losing her position. “Nothing like that. Kosmas banned slavery a long time ago. Similar to your world, though, we still have bills to pay. My family has worked in the palace for at least a millennium, maybe longer. It was only natural that I would follow in their footsteps.”

  “Please call me Keely,” she absentmindedly reminded Cara, for what felt like the hundredth time. Her revelations relieved her immensely. “As you know, I'm very new to Legionnaire,” Keely added, hoping Cara would continue. “If you don't mind, could you please explain what makes me different from the other concubines?”

  Cara watched her cautiously, a frown marring the smooth lines of her youthful face. It was clear she was reluctant to speak about her position, and those that she had served, but Keely didn't understand why. She walked around to sit down on the small sofa before gesturing for the other woman to join her. Cara just stared back at her, all but wringing her hands in misery.

  “Cara, I want you to feel free to talk to me. I can promise you that our conversations will remain private, at least on my end, and I hope you will extend me the same courtesy. You're my only connection to the world outside of this room, and I need someone I can trust. How can I learn about Legionnaire, if nobody will explain it to me?”

  Her words seemed to ease Cara's worry. She walked over to the sofa across from Keely before gingerly seating herself on the edge. She was wearing a simple pair of black pants and a white shirt, and for a moment, Keely envied her comfortable clothing. Clearly the servants dressed a lot differently than the rest of the women she'd seen.

  Unaware of her scrutiny, Cara asked, “What would you like to know?”

  “Everything,” Keely replied automatically before stopping to correct herself. She brushed away her answer with a wry grin. “But I know we don't have enough time for that, at least not now. We can start with you explaining what makes me different than the other concubines, though.”

  “Oh, that,” Cara replied, her cheeks turning pink. “I probably shouldn't have said that, but to answer your question, you're a lot nicer than they are. I have only served the royal concubines, not the temporary ones, so I can't speak of their attitudes. The ones that serve Kosmas, though, are not always nice.”

  Her words hid a wealth of meaning. “I see,” Keely said, her hands clasped in her lap. So the other concubines were catty. She was relieved she didn't have to share a room with them. Since arriving, she'd gained a whole new set of problems, dealing with jealous, demanding women would have been unbearable. “Does Kosmas visit them often?”

  Cara made a small, strangled noise in the back of her throat an instant before she launched into a fit of coughing. “Ma'am!” she exclaimed, her eyes darting around the room. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

  “Of course,” Keely answered, her voice calm. “And does he have a favorite?” She hoped he did. Maybe she could use that to her benefit.

  “From what I've seen, he does visit the concubine's quarters often,” Cara replied slowly, looking as if she wished a hole would open up and swallow her. “Usually, he's there several times a day.”

  “Good grief.” Keely rolled her eyes. It figured. A man like him probably spent more time having sex than sleeping. Did vampires sleep? If not, that gave a whole new meaning to the term nymphomaniac.

  “I wouldn't say he has a favorite,” Cara continued. “But it doesn't stop the concubines from fighting over him. There isn't a day that goes by that they aren't attacking one another, unless Kosmas is around. In front of him, they act like angels. He doesn't visit them one by one, ma'am, at least not all the time. He's often in bed with several of them, and he remains there for hours. And when he leaves, the concubines can't even walk.” Cara's voice had turned breathless, as if she were struggling to breathe. Keely hoped she didn't pass out. “It's why he has to keep so many.”

  Cara stopped, the room as silent as a tomb. After a moment, she focused her eyes on Keely. “Kosmas has kept you separate from the others, though, something that hasn't ever happened before. Maybe you're his favorite, if you don't mind me saying so?”

  God, she hoped not. It was time to change the subject. “How long has Kosmas been the leader of Golden Harbor?”

  “About a hundred years,” Cara promptly answered. “I was just a wee one when he took over. Our people have a lot of respect for him. As I mentioned before, he ended slavery... And he's been a fair ruler. Not to mention, he came up with the idea of relocating human women into our world, so there are a great many that are grateful for that. It's mutually beneficial, if you don't mind me saying so.”

  “Why do you say that?” Keely asked, interested in hearing her reasoning.

  “Well, from what I've heard Earth is no longer a good place to live. Here you'll have everything you could ask for, including a mate and children, and our males will benefit from having a mate that is almost guaranteed to be able to reproduce. We are all grateful for you and the other women. Without you, Legionnaire faced eventual extinction.”

&nbs
p; Cara glanced at the clock on the wall before sending her an apologetic look. “I'm sorry for rattling on,” she said demurely as she stood to her feet. “I've nearly made you late. It's time for your evening meal. I'll escort you there now.”

  Chapter 2

  After what seemed like forever, the wagon eventually drew to a halt. Zander's body was taut from nerves, his every muscle prepared to act at a moment's notice. When they came for him it would happen fast. A healthy vampire's speed was unmatched.

  They were at the edge of the desert, he could smell the very sand with his sensitive nose. It was unlikely they'd disturb him quite yet, they weren't far enough into the dead zone for their deviant purposes. He hoped they made it sooner rather than later, his muscles were already trembling from exhaustion. Zander damned his broken bones and weariness, he was weak, and he hated it.

  “Damn it,” the wagon driver hissed, his voice filled with irritation. He brought his fist down on the wooden bench, cracking it immediately. “It's too damned sandy for us to cross here. We'll have to go further down, unless we plan on pushing the wagon across the desert.”