Love Me to Death (Underveil, #1)(97)

And with that, images of the future flooded her head like a fast motion slide show. Her eyes flew open, and she grinned. “I need Claude. And then, I need someone to get a message to Fee the Alchemist. Oh, and please return the key I gave you in the dungeon. I believe it’s in your back right pants pocket.”

He leaned back with an amused smile. “Anything else?”

“Yeah, do you have a superhero cape around here anywhere, because I’m feeling badass.”

“Save the badass for Nikolai Itzov, please.”





Chapter Thirty-One


Nikolai fought hard to remain optimistic. Elena would come for him. It had only been hours since Fydor was telling Commander Mihai to keep on the lookout for her. It was crucial to remain patient and positive. Some things were hard to brush aside, though, like what the hell was Aleksi up to swearing revenge against Elena? It had to be a ploy. Nikolai knew in his heart she’d never side with his uncle. Just like he knew Elena hadn’t betrayed him back at her house. She was just doing what she had to do. They all were.

The shifter was snoring like, well, a bear again. At least it kept Nikolai from falling asleep. He wanted to stay awake for when Elena came. How odd that the weak little human he spared in that store and took prisoner was the very person he now relied upon to free him from captivity. But she was different now. They both were. And he loved her. That was what had been his biggest incentive since his capture: a future with Elena Arcos. During the beatings, when the pain was at its worst, he had eased his mind by imagining what their children could have looked like had he and Elena been compatible species and able to reproduce. Strong, black-haired, gold eyed, sometimes. Other times, he’d see them with her coloration. Gold curls and purple eyes. Maybe even blue, like when she was a human. Yes. Blue. He’d like that.

His stomach rumbled. Being immortal, he couldn’t starve to death, but that didn’t keep him from suffering hunger and thirst. And he was weakened considerably. Hopefully, she’d come soon, before he could no longer walk on his own.

The first things he wanted to do when he got out of here were eat, shower, and sleep. If he got out of here. No. He could not let negativity cloud his reasoning. Slayers were trained to focus and have positive visualizations. When negativity was allowed in, resolve would be weakened, like his uncle’s.

The sorry bastard. At least he’d lost interest in using him as a living pi?ata since Borya left. Most of his wounds had healed, though some food and rest would speed the remaining injuries along. Willing his body to heal itself, he shut his eyes in attempt to relax, using the meditation techniques his mother had taught him as a boy.

A faint buzzing and a grunt roused him from his meditation. He opened his eyes to find Elena with her hands on either side of the guard’s face struggling to keep him in her grasp as she channeled power as effectively as a Time Folder. A couple of times, it looked like the big bear shifter would break away from her, but ultimately, she kept contact long enough to win the battle.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she said, abandoning the unconscious hulk of a guard and sauntering toward him in a skimpy leather halter and skintight leather pants like something out of a fantasy. “You come here often?”

“First time. You?”

She pulled a key out of her cleavage and inserted it into the cuff at his left wrist, pressing against him in the process, causing his body to roar to life. He may have been starved and in pain, but his body knew his fated mate. She pulled back slightly as the cuff fell away.

“First and last, I hope. Not a big fan of the ambiance.” His limp arm dropped below shoulder height for the first time in days, and painful tingles shot from shoulder to index finger. She unlocked the cuff on his right arm, then his ankles, and stepped back, checking him out from head to toe. “Mr. Itzov, if you don’t mind, I think it best we take this party elsewhere.”

Shouting erupted outside the chamber.

She shot a look at the door. “I suggest you hang on to me right now, because I’m about to give you the ride of your life. Pun intended.”

“Pun appreciated,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “Get us the hell out of here.”



Nikolai had never thought reconfiguring after teleporting felt good, but this time, he reveled in it because when he solidified, Elena was in his arms.

“Welcome to Castle Poenari, King Nikolai,” a familiar voice said from behind them, right as he was about to rip Elena’s clothes off—well, right as he was about to try to rip her clothes off as best he could with no feeling in his hands. Maybe the interruption was a good thing.

“Vladimir Dalca. To what do I owe the honor?” The vampire had been tight with his father and was Elena’s father’s right hand man. He’d been at the fortress many times. But this was the first time Nikolai had been inside Castle Poenari.

“To your lovely mate. She insisted on saving you, and being generous, I allowed it.”

A door across the room flew open. “A message came for you, Miss Elena.” The last person Nikolai expected to see in Vlad’s castle was Claude Ungur. But lo and behold, there he was in Slayer uniform, no less, looking better than he had in years.

She pulled away to retrieve the scrap of paper. After scanning it quickly, she grinned. “Excellent. Everything is working perfectly so far.”

“Yes, everything,” Nikolai said, realizing his bad innuendo had failed because his hands really weren’t working right. He shook them, and the tips of his fingers stung. Looking down, he realized what a horrible state he was in. He’d been beaten to the point of human death repeatedly and his body, and surely his head and face, were coated in layers of dried blood. He must have looked and smelled like death. “Is it possible to for me to get a shower and a change of clothes?”