Originally, Blood Rituals was going to be a oneshot, but I got excited about Darken and Nicci's story, so now it's the first part of a six-chaptered fic; all the chapters will be about this long, and inspired by quotes. So...here's the sequel to Blood Rituals. Darken is having a pity party, when someone decides to crash...

"Clouds and smoke whirled and eddied, so thick the hurricane-force winds and rain couldn't blow them away." –4,4 The Book of Fours by Nancy Holder

"Her complete lack of scruples had been one of her attractions, initially." –4,4 The Wives of Bath, Wendy Holden

"You promise(d) me a year of freedom." –4,4 Falling to Ash, Karen Mahoney

"A week? he thought sourly. It's going to take twice that long to heal." 4,4 Forgotten Truth, Dawn Cook

Power Games

Darken Rahl surveyed the wine in his glass with morose, but still exquisite, taste. It was well enough, he supposed. But it lacked…body.

More specifically, he lacked body. His own body, with its inherent Rahl magic, generations of powerful ancestors ending in himself, a man too squeamish to serve the Keeper well, and too self-serving to be welcomed into the Creator's garden…

Oh, no, he was forgetting, wasn't he? The flower of all those long generations was not himself, but his younger brother. He was just a regrettable accident, a stumbling stone on Richard's path to greatness. How humiliating.

"Drinking alone?" she said from the doorway.

Darken whirled—she stood framed on the threshold, long blonde hair hanging loose down her back, her pretty features tense under that artificial smile.

Ah, yes. The other body Darken lacked. Nicci's. Ever since her escape, he'd found himself uncomfortably dwelling on the renegade sorceress. Stealing her Han was no longer enough for him.

"You," Darken labeled her.

Nicci scowled. "Me."

Darken didn't know what was wrong with him. What did he care for some 'silly little suicidal Keeper's pet,' as Shota, now residing in his dungeons, had put it? Although she was more than that now. Another fugitive of the Keeper's wrath. Her complete lack of scruples had been one of her attractions, initially.

It still was. But if she were going to play the game with him, she'd have to wake earlier in the morning than this.

Of course, she had wafted through his security as if they weren't there…for her sake, Darken hoped she hadn't murdered any more of his Mord'Sith. They were rare and precious as gold to him, now.

Without warning, he waved a hand. Outside the dark window, sudden rain and hail hurled themselves at the walls of the castle, driven by fierce winds.

Nicci smiled. And crooked two fingers. Fog poured out of her like blood—like the blood she'd left him. Bitch.

Darken glared, but could no longer quite see her. Clouds and smoke whirled and eddied, so thick the hurricane-force winds and rain couldn't blow them away, although Darken snapped his fingers and the window burst open, bringing the elements inside.

In the raging torrent, Darken neither saw nor heard Nicci approach until she was right beside him. He felt a stinging pain, and looked down to see that she had slashed a deep gash in his arm.

"That's for thinking you could break me," Nicci panted. "Don't look so worried; it'll heal in a week."

A week? he thought sourly. It's going to take twice that long to heal. Unless she helps it along.

"What do you want, Nicci?" Darken asked, cutting to the chase. The clouds and rain were slowly disbursing now, leaving two wet and bedraggled sorcerers in their wake.

"Promise me a year of freedom," Nicci whispered. She leaned forward so her bosom was directly under his nose.

Darken raised his eyebrows. Obviously, she had some plan whereby in a year she would be unstoppable. He'd have to investigate further. "Why?" he asked. "When you have amply demonstrated that you don't need my permission for your freedom?" There, flatter her—see what that turned up.

Nicci slid down further, until she was sitting on his lap. "You are a powerful opponent." Her lips brushed lightly against his, and Darken smiled inwardly.

Yes, he still had it.

His arms tightened around her. He ignored the pain from the cut. "As are you."

It was true. But it wouldn't stop him. Nicci thought she was in control. How wrong she was.