Immortals After Dark 09 - Pleasure of a Dark Prince

huntress—offered up by someone who loves her. A sacrifice like that, committed in my name, will make me strong enough to break free, to become incorporeal and invincible forever.” He motioned for MacRieve, who joined his side without hesitation. To Lucia, he said, “I want the one who sullied you… to punish you. And free me for eternity.”
    MacRieve was unseeing, his eyes blinded to reality. When Cruach handed him a Cromite sword, he accepted it.
    The robed men began chanting,
“To him we sacrifice, for him our cherished… to him we sacrifice…”
    “Take her head, Lykae,” Cruach intoned. “To me you sacrifice, for me your cherished.”
    “No, MacRieve!” She strained against the bonds, ignoring the pain as the rusted metal cleaved into her skin. “Fight this! I’m Lucia—you don’t want to hurt me!”
    With a chilling smile, Cruach added, “I bet we’ll find your meat is tender.”
    Blood began streaming from her wrists. She could almost… almost squeeze one hand out of a manacle.
    MacRieve crossed over to the altar, standing at her shoulders. Positioned there, because he was going to cut off her head.
    “Don’t do it, MacRieve—you can’t do this to me!”
    “Do it, MacRieve—you must do this for me!”
Lucia was gazing up at Garreth, pleading for him to end her.
    Trying to reassure her, he told her again, “I’m in love with you, Lousha.”
    Her eyes were filled with dread, tears spilling over. “If you love me, then why won’t you end my suffering?” She feared he wouldn’t? “End
me
.”
    “Aye. I will.” Crom Cruach was bestowing power on him, filling him with the strength to do what needed to be done.
    “Do it, Garreth!” she said more urgently, nearly screaming.
    He raised the proud sword over his head. It would land directly across her delicate neck. And her suffering would end. “I do this for you.”
    She was writhing with anticipation, eyes wide, screaming, “Now, MacRieve! Yes, please!”
    “Love you.”
The sword came down, slicing clean.

FORTY-NINE

    “MacRieve!” she screamed, watching helplessly as he drove the sword into his side—the sword that had been aimed so fixedly for her neck. In midair, he’d changed his grip, shoving it into himself instead of her.
    He staggered back, dropping to his knees, the blade still planted inside him. With his body visibly shuddering, he yanked the sword free, throwing it across the cavern. Then with his hands squeezing his head so hard she thought he’d crack his skull, he roared in agony.
    “Garreth, no!”
    “That was… fascinating,” Cruach said, staring at MacRieve. “I could control
him
, but not the beast inside him—the one that would rather die than harm its mate. Still, the damage is done. I’d already implanted in his mind the memory of your execution. The memory of his killing you.” The fiend laughed. “Right now he believes he’s rocking your headless body, feeling your skin cooling against his as your blood drains away.”
    “Lousha, doona leave me,” Garreth rasped, his breaths ragged. He reverted to Gaelic, uttering anguished words.
So sorry… love you… joining you.
His voice wretched, he pleaded for her to come back to him.
“I’m beggin’ you, lass.”
    Tears ran from her eyes as she choked out the words, “Garreth, it’s not real.
Not real.”
    He was unhearing, beginning to dig his claws into the dirt around him.
    “Oh, now your Lykae’s turning,” Cruach said. “The beast is rising, roiling in horror and confusion, gathering the…
pieces
of you to his body. How touching.”
    “Cruach, I will kill you for this!” Lucia lifted up against the chains. “You’ll never leave this place! You belong here.” When Cruach closed in on her, she screamed, “You’re not a god—you’re a worm in the earth, a parasite!” She spat at his face.
    His long tongue darted out and collected the spittle from his chin. Ignoring her words, he murmured, “What to do with you? I could reclaim you or dine on your flesh.” He leered down at her with those yellow, slitted eyes. “I know. I will do
both
. At the same time. Take from you as I give.” He stepped back, signaling the four robed Cromites to approach the altar. “And since you’ve become such a slattern, you won’t mind if I share.”
    The Cromites neared, their eyes covetous, as depraved as their god—
    Suddenly, black claws appeared, projecting from the
front
of Cruach’s throat, then slashing to the side. Cruach