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  Stealing Fire

  Angela Castle

  Published by Rogue Phoenix Press

  Copyright © 2011

  ISBN: 978-1-936403-24-0

  Electronic rights reserved by Rogue Phoenix Press, all other rights reserved by the author. The reproduction or other use of any part of this publication without the prior written consent of the rights holder is an infringement of the copyright law. This is a work of fiction. People and locations, even those with real names, have been fictionalized for the purposes of this story.

  Prologue

  Tamara's feet dangled above the precipice. No matter how she tried to calm her racing pulse and rapid breathing, she felt the panic rising.

  How had four weeks with the most gorgeous magical man she had ever met, turn into this? Tuthal, sorcerer of Kell had shown her the wonders of his alien land, brought her pleasures that left her weak, sated, and never wanting to leave his side. He had stolen her heart in a matter of days, yet she sensed there was a hell of a lot more to her magical sorcerer than he chose to reveal.

  Tuthal's tower, and the place he called home, remarkably resembled a lighthouse. It was positioned by a bay inlet along the eastern side of the Kell coastline. Tamara was curled up on a soft couch by a blazing crystal fire. She glanced up at him as Tuthal had come down the steps from the upper room.

  "It is time, my Tamara."

  "Time for what?" She gave him a seductive smile; there was always time for some hot sweaty sex with her hunky alien sorcerer.

  "There is someone I wish you to meet."

  "Okay, cool." She jumped up, trustingly putting her hand into his. Tamara had seen the glint of his sword as the robes he wore parted slightly then he turned and waved his staff to open a red glowing portal; portals being a source of magical transport between worlds, and only Sorcerers like Tuthal were able to open them.

  "Remember when the time comes, my beauty, I need you to scream for me." Before she could question what on earth he had meant, Tuthal had tugged her though the red swirling portal.

  Tuthal did not allow her time to think or react. He gripped her wrists, lifted her off her feet, and shackled her wrists either side of her head between two poles.

  "Tuthal, what the hell are you doing?" She was trying to stay calm, hoping this was some kind of kinky game he wanted to play. Tuthal's expression was passive, giving nothing away behind his miss-matched eyes.

  "I need you to be my sacrifice to the soul demon, Tamara; you are the one I have needed for a very long time. Trust me Tamara, all will be well." She watched as he had opened another portal and stepped through, leaving her alone in the darkness of what could only be described as hell.

  "Stay calm, it'll be alright, stay calm, stay calm." Tamara repeated like a mantra trying to believe the words she spoke. The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy always had the best advice in situations like these; 'Don't panic.' But that was easier said than done.

  The air was heated and fouled from the flames and sulfa that wafted up from the bottom of the very large and long pit.

  Good god, how did she get into these situations? Even if her previous boyfriends had been total losers, at least they wouldn't have tried to sacrifice her to a demon.

  Tamara tried yanking her wrists, but the leather straps that tethered her were too strong, and her arms were beginning to ache with the effort of trying to break free. She wasn't going anywhere in a hurry.

  "Are you ready?" Tuthal's arm slid around her waist. She felt his breath on her ear. Softly, he kissed the skin just under the lobe. Tamara growled in anger. Had he returned to insure his 'sacrifice' went to plan?

  "You know you're going to pay for this." Despite the horror of her situation, she couldn't help her body's response to the man behind her. She didn't know what it was about him that made her body react in such a way. Was it his heady masculine smell, the way the rough callouses of his fingertips and raised palms of his hands caressed her skin? Or was it the way his firm, warm muscled body pressed against her back. Whatever it was, no other man had been able to flip her switch as fast as Tuthal did.

  "I know sweetness, I know. One thing at a time. I hope you can forgive me when this is over." He removed his hand from her waist. Tamara felt bereft of his warmth at her back. "I feel him approaching. Scream for me sweetness; let him know your terror is real."

  A sudden burst of anger made her twist and kick helplessly in her bonds, as Tuthal shifted away from her. Real terror, he wanted her to feel real terror? How can it get any more real than being offered as a sacrifice to some hideous demon? Tamara screamed all right. She screamed in anger and betrayal.

  Tamara glanced up and saw it approaching. Shimmering in the heat it stalked purposefully across the heated red rocks, across the cracked blackened ground of the hell realm Tuthal had brought her too.

  Tamara guessed the demon to be at least eight feet tall. Its skin was reddish brown, from the top of his face right down to the pads of its cloven hooves. Long sharp fingernails gleamed like little daggers at the end of each of his five fingers. On top of its monstrous scull and down the length of its spine were green and black spikes. It had two large red glowing eyes. Much to her surprise it had a very humanoid and handsome face, despite its monster's body. Its gaze was locked on her. Large full lips curled up into a menacing smile; his lazy gaze roamed her body from head to toe. It was then Tamara did scream in genuine terror, her body trembling in fear.

  "I see you brought me a treat, Tuthal." The creature had a low deep gravelly voice. Between them was a huge chasm. Surly even this beast couldn't jump without falling into the pit of molten lava below. Tamara was praying for the latter part of her thoughts, a pit falling death. Then she could go home. Not that she even knew where home was anymore. She had thought her home was with Tuthal. How wrong she was.

  "'Twas it not our bargain, Nasten?" Tuthal stepped to her right side.

  "You fucking bastard, I'm going to kill you," she raged at Tuthal.

  The creature he'd called Nasten laughed in delight at her outburst.

  "And one with spirit. Delicious."

  Shit, was the thing going to eat her?

  "My soul in return for the soul of an innocent beauty." Tuthal stepped forward, the tip of his boots on the edge of the fire pit.

  "Aye, she is that." Nasten eyes seemed to be fixated on her heaving chest. The creature licked its lips as if it did want to eat her. Tamara glanced over the demon only to gasp in fear as she saw it was sporting a huge erection. I am so fucked. Tamara couldn't help the thought rolling through her brain. Her breathing became more rapid with fear; she twisted trying to yank her arms free. They ached from the exertion and her wrists were sore from the chafing of the leather straps which held her in place.

  "Then she is yours. Give me my soul, Nasten," demanded Tuthal.

  The creature opened his hand. Tamara blinked in amazement as suddenly a glowing blue tear-shaped jewel appeared on it. This was Tuthal's soul? Tamara was even more astonished when from nowhere a black stone bridge started building itself right over the fire pit between Nasten and Tuthal. Oh, no, no, no fucking way. Why couldn't he leap the pit and just fall to his death like she had hoped? Tamara was way out of luck now.

  Nasten stalked across it and placed the jewel into Tuthal's out stretched palm. Nasten's gaze went back to her.

  "She is five times the worth of your measly soul and powers. Come my little one, we are going to have a wonderful time together." The creature laughed at her fear.

  Tamara blinked as the monster began to morph, his spiked spine retreating along with his scales. A mop of black hair appeared on his head, flowing down and around his shoulders. Huge muscles bulged under smooth red skin; the hooves were now almost normal looking feet. His hands were no
longer claws but smooth red hands with black shinny fingernails. He now stood seven feet tall instead of eight. As he reached for the leather straps that held her, Tamara was so transfixed by his glowing red eyes, she did not notice he had freed her completely. Her arms drooped down as the blood rushed back. She ignored the pins and needles sensation making them tingle. When Nasten's large hand encircled her bicep tightly and tugged her towards him, reality kicked back in.

  "No!" she screamed, fighting to free herself from his grip. It was like trying to pry a welded iron bar loose. He was too strong. In desperation her gaze swung to Tuthal who was holding the jewel to his chest with his eyes closed, and head bowed. He wasn't even looking at her.

  The bastard had betrayed her, betrayed her sister's trust in him, and betrayed the people of Kell.

  Chapter One

  Hobart, Tasmania…

  To be a King was not always good; it came with a heavy weight of responsibility. Adalardo, King of the Kells, stood on the sidewalk in the township of Hobart watching the human population move about at a pace faster than he was accustomed to. There was a distinct chill in the air along with the rancid smoke of the stag-less carriage that glided along the dark stone streets. Lady Jane had told him they were made up of a mixture of compact gravel and tar, made just for the machines to roll about on.

  "Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked. Adalardo glanced down at the woman beside him, Lady Jane the Protected, or the wife, as she called herself, to his good friend Drystan. Drystan was head commander to his army of warriors. Jane had been the first human woman he and his men had encountered after she had fallen through a portal between their worlds. Adalardo was ever grateful for the twist of fate that had delivered her into his land, saving his people from slowly fading from the pages of existence after a war had wiped out nearly all the women and children from his kingdom.

  Through Jane and the Sorcerer Tuthal, they had established a safe portal between their worlds. It allowed his men to come to Earth and choose women Jane had found through the undercover 'dating' agency she had set up. Once the ladies were happily in the arms of their chosen Kell men, the men took them back to Kell as their Protected, or what Jane preferred to call brides. Eighteen human women now dwelt in Kell. It was a good start for securing the future of Adalardo's people. The women of Earth had indeed captivated his men with their beautiful hair, skin and eyes.

  "Yes, it is time," he answered, tugging the soft leather jacket he wore close around his upper body. Jane had assured him he looked 'hot,' which she had explained was a notch above extremely handsome. Adalardo had laughed in amusement at her comments, much to Drystan's displeasure. He also donned a dark-colored t-shirt and tight turrets, or jeans as Jane called them. In his Kell-made boots he was able to conceal a blade.

  Jane had warned him that wearing a sword in public on Earth would get him in trouble with the human law. Trouble was not what he or his people needed, especially if they wished to continue to find more available single women to Protect.

  "There is no guarantee you'll find the love of your life in one day, your Highness," she stressed as she took his offered arm. Jane threaded her arm through his and they started walking down the street.

  "Tuthal trusted your judgment. Drystan trusts your judgment and so do I."

  "Your confidence in me is flattering, but it took me over two months before my sister used the agency. The woman you want may not even be in Tasmania."

  "Every search has a starting point, Lady Jane." Adalardo couldn't help but smile when he heard her resigned sigh.

  He kept his stride slow in order to allow Jane to keep up. He had sworn on pain of death to take good care of Drystan's 'Protected', or in human terms, Drystan's wife. Especially, now that Jane was pregnant with Drystan's child.

  Jane was his guide and was helping him navigate the human world to search for his future queen.

  "It was a feeling deep within," Drystan had confided to him late one evening over too many goblets of Kell wine. "I knew in here." He thumped his fist over his heart. "When you find your one, you will know too."

  Adalardo glanced at Jane's swollen belly; she would produce the first Human-Kell child. It was going to be a monumental event. All Adalardo needed now was to find the one woman to be his queen, his lover, and most importantly, his Protected.

  "All right, wing man it is."

  Adalardo frowned in confusion.

  "Wing man?"

  Jane gave a mischievous chuckle. "It's kind of what humans call a friend who helps the other score a date, or in Kell terms, find a Protected."

  "Ahhh, then you are this 'wing man' to all the men of Kell."

  "Um, well, I guess so." She looked thoughtful for a moment. She gave a shrug, followed by a smile. "C'mon then, it's Sunday and the best place to be in Hobart on a Sunday is the Salamanca markets. Lots of people to mingle with and lots of shopping." She wiggled her eyebrows at him. Adalardo gave a hearty laugh, envying his Commander for the fine woman he had in Jane.

  ~ * ~

  It was always her fault.

  Her fault she couldn't have children, her fault she was so fat. It was her fault when he found a single thing out of place in their home. She could not cook right, could not clean right. Even the purple and yellow bruises marring her arms and lower body were her own fault for making him angry.

  Penny Summerton kept her gaze lowered. She avoided looking people in the eye for fear they would see through her to the truth that Darrel always saw, her worthlessness. Of course Darrel was always excellent at making her believe that no one else would care for her like he did. That no one else would ever want someone as worthless as she. Penny swallowed a small inner voice from her past that kept hammering at the back of her mind. She was not worthless. There had to be a better life to the one she had. She had to leave him.

  She had tried once, taking money from his wallet while he had been knocked out in a drunken stupor. She had caught a bus from Hobart bus station down to Devonport. When you lived on an island as small as Tasmania, there were not many places to run to. Penny had no one to go to and no one to shelter her. She had no clue as to the whereabouts of her father who left her and her mother when she was only five. When Penny was in her late teens, her mother had died of breast cancer.

  Of course there were services to help women like her. But she did not want to see the pity in their eyes.

  There had been hell to pay when Darrel had found her still in the Devonport Bus shelter, not knowing where to go.

  "If you ever run again, Pen," he had threatened with calm menace, "no one will recognize your body when they find it, and it would have been all your own doing." He had used his belt on her lower back and legs. Penny had struggled to walk and even sit for over a week.

  Penny glanced at her watch. Eleven-thirty. Darrel had left for the pub at eleven, which gave her at least eight hours. Penny always looked forward to Sundays when she got to wander the markets for a short while before she had to walk home and get the house spotless and cook a proper meal before he returned. Penny had just enough money to buy some fresh fruits and veggies. Darrel was always careful to give her just enough for food and supplies, and of course he would check what she had left over at the end of the day. He made sure she wasn't trying to hoard up any savings to try and make another attempt to leave. Penny was completely and utterly trapped, living a daily nightmare.

  ~ * ~

  Adalardo walked behind Jane as she slowly moved from table to table, her gaze flitting over the contents of each stall before moving on to the next. Adalardo divided his attention between keeping an eye on Jane and observing the thrum of humans who had braved the chilled Tasmanian air to search for treasures of their own. These markets were not that dissimilar to the markets in the inner village.

  Since the Drac-Kell war, he had watched the outer township shrink dramatically. Adalardo wanted to work towards seeing the outer township become full and vibrant once again as it used to be during the reign of his father.
/>   Because there was still so much to do in Kell, Adalardo felt a measure of guilt in the pit of his stomach for indulging in the pleasure of not being in his homeland and at the beck and call of his people. He consoled himself by knowing this mission would benefit his people. The elders of the casts and advisors had been pressing for him to find a Protected to help insure the royal line. Adalardo was the only son of King Colan; his uncle had never produced children to keep the Royal cast alive.

  If Adalardo was to die, the entire royal line would be wiped out. Rulership of Kell would fall on Drystan's and Jane's shoulders. Drystan had made it clear that this was a responsibility he did not wish for. Another wave of envy swept over Adalardo at the freedom his commander and his Protected enjoyed. Soon, he told himself, pushing the negative thoughts to the back of his brain. Soon he would find his own. Drystan was currently on Kell, as he still had a duty to keep his warrior skills sharp, war or not. He also stood in Adalardo's place while the King tended to personal business.