The Key
an excerpt

From beneath Sergei, thorny vines shot out, whipping in a frenzy around his legs, catching him as he attempted to move. He was almost sent pitching backwards but held upright by the twining vegetation as they caught at his back and dug into his muscle.

Sergei scowled in concentration and his back tattoo glowed with an inhuman light. The ground shook and heaved violently in an explosive motion upward, setting him free in a spray of leaves, root matter and grass. Blood appeared through his trousers, small dots from where the prickly thorns had gouged into his flesh.

Sent to one knee, Sergei braced his hand to catch himself, his breath coming in hard pants and harsh exhales. "Poison," he ground through his teeth clenched in pain. "A new trick?"

Ilya spread his hands. "I'm sure we are similar in that we enjoy playing with what we can do."

"Yes," Sergei said and his lips pulled into a wicked grin. The ground split, racing along the surface like jagged lightning toward Ilya's position, sending him off balance and to the ground on his back with a heavy thud, lest he drop into the ever widening chasm. "Quite."

The roll to his feet as a little more slow that time and when Ilya was upright, he snarled. "I'm finished playing, Lord Sergei, as I don't have the time to deal with you any longer." Reaching behind, Ilya produced a pistol. Before Sergei could react, the report cracked through the woods and Sergei was cast backward.

A wave of Ilya's hand finished the rest, branches and brush snared the mage and dragged him backward to slam into a tree with a crunch. Pain blossomed through Sergei's chest, not just from the gunshot wound -- and the accompanying blood stain that spread across his shirt -- but from the ribs cracking beneath the impact.

Trapped and bound to the tree, Ilya strolled forward and plucked the cane from Sergei's loose grip, flinging into the brush. "You'll not need that, my lord." He grabbed a handful of Sergei's dark hair and wretched his head back to cant his neck at a painful angle. "I realize that is bad sport but really, I'm sure you'd have done the same."

"I'm sorry you think that," Sergei wheezed out painfully.

"No matter. I have what I came for and while it would have pleased me at one time to call you friend, I suppose we are beyond that now." Ilya turned an ear behind him when he heard motion and smiled when he recognized them as his own men when they stepped into the clearing.

"My men are here so I will take what I've won and leave you to it."

In a sudden move, Ilya dragged Sergei's head forward and mashed their mouths together. The kiss was hard, obscene and angry. Tearing their mouths apart, Ilya licked at his lips. "Internal bleeding? Pity. I don't suspect you'll last very long. Although, there is always a chance and perhaps the gods will see fit to ensure we have another chance to meet."

He laughed at the baleful look Sergei gave him and he released his hold. "Tut, Sergei, don't look at me so. The stakes are high in this game. It's just the way it's played. Even someone like you can appreciate that."

Waving around him at his men, Ilya strode purposefully toward the still unconscious form of the prince and the young girl who hovered frightened at his side. "Take them. We'll ride hard for home and be across the border before nightfall."