The whipping wind of my magic picked up, the lean-tos and blanket nests that covered the massive sleeping space rattling as dust and trash and everything else lifted up to surround us in our own little tornado of trash.
It was the least sexy thing I had ever been involved in. Adrian didn't agree, he was already looking at me like an animal, his pink tongue wetting his dry lips as he held my hips against his. Which was fine, made what came next easier.
“I want you.” I pressed my wet lips to his dry ones, the magic falling from my fingers as I pressed my hand against his neck.
He sighed, his hands trailing down my spine to cup against my ass, pulling me into him. He groaned in desire, but I felt nothing but that same angry power buzzing through my veins. I wasn’t sure if that was a good sign.
“If I didn’t know you,” he continued, “I would say they already have you under their spell, that you’ve already abandoned us.”
“Good thing you know me then.” I gave him another wink and another kiss. “I’d rather die than let them continue to rule over us. I will see them in a puddle of their own blood, screaming for mercy.”
Just like that image in the Queen’s hand.
“That’s my girl,” he grinned, forcing another kiss. I pulled away.
“So, will you help me then?”
Adrian’s dark brown eyes narrowed, his brows pulling together in the look that I had always described as ‘meat head concentration’. The name had never suited it more.
“Of course I will.” He said it loud enough for everyone to hear before pulling me in and whispering in my ear. “And I’ll keep our bed warm for you for when you return, as my queen.”
My stomach flipped, but not for some exhilaration of some guy who thinks I’ll be pining for his bed and some pet name he seemed to think I wanted. That was gross.
My stomach flipped for the Queen, the current one, and the burn that was still aching on the tip of my index finger.
Her superpowers were really putting a damper on our plan, and I hoped to shit she couldn’t see this conversation or what we were planning. I really needed to find out how all of that worked.
“I’ll be looking forward to it.” I gave him a wink, enough to bolster his lusty ego back up to where it belonged and stepped away, right into a hard chest.
“Holy shit!” Adrian growled, his eyes narrowing at what I immediately registered as an attack.
“Tarns!” I yelled the warning, as I spun around, hands lifting as the magic that had once been weak and dripping exploding from me in a line of what looked like green smoke.
The powerful attack zoomed through the air as I bellowed a war cry, ready to destroy whatever had invaded us. It was a beautiful sight, the real magic, until it hit against an invisible wall with a blast that rattled the floor and shook the fragments of metal that hung from the ceiling. One of the ancient things collapsed to the ground, fire spreading from whatever I had hit, the air filling with harmless grey smoke and the crumpling sound of metal.
“Tarns!” I yelled again, hands still forward as the smoke cleared, ready to attack again.
“Crap, girl. You gotta learn how to control that.” Wynifred stepped through the last of the smoke to face us. “You’re gonna take out a monarchy if you’re not careful.”
Her eyebrows twisted dangerously as she stepped right up to me, the same frightening grin from before covering her face.
I knew that bubbling pain in my ass from before was a farce!
“Isn’t that the point?” I stepped right up to her and she blew in my face, the smell of smoke on her breath, as though she was burning from the inside.
“That’s up to you, Gem.” God, I wish Eddy had never used that name around her. Let’s hope she could keep it to herself.
“What is this? You let one of them in here? What are you playing at Gemma? What have you done?” Adrian’s rage bubbled through the air, it rumbled in a warning that I had heard a few too many times.
The idiot was about to make a terrible mistake.
I let him.
I stepped to the side as he lumbered past me, right toward the Eternal who smiled as the same blast of flame erupted around her. Sparks flew as though she herself had erupted. The fire hadn’t burst from her hands however, it had come from the ground in front of her. Blankets, clothes, and someone's personal belongings mixed with the shattered stone as it all erupted into the air in a bomb that sent Adrian back, flying through the air and into the far wall with a loud thwack.
It was a blast like the ones I used to make, but instead of magic, it was flame, everything so perfectly controlled that the blast hadn’t passed more than a foot in diameter. It shouldn’t have even had the force to move Adrian anywhere, but he was already embedded into stone dozens of feet away.
“Holy shit,” Eddy muttered, his eyes wide as he looked from the smug Wynifred to Adrian who was sliding down the wall like a puppet with cut strings.
“Sorry!” Wynifred yelled, that playful tone back as she waved to Adrian, who had landed on the floor in a wad. “No hard feelings! You scared me!”
Fitting, seeing as she scared everyone else.
The few that had been brave enough to poke their heads out were gone. The normally bustling living space was empty except for a few tendrils of smoke.
“You ready, Gemma?” Wynifred asked from somewhere behind me, her forced playfulness hollow against the emptiness of my home.
This was not the last memory I had hoped to have in this place.
Bleak. Broken.
I had to fix this.
That meant giving them the fuel to carry on without me.
Yes, Adrian looked ridiculous crumpled against the wall like he was. Ass in the air, forced to smell his own junk. But his face was full of rage, everyone else staring with fear.
Staring at her. At our enemy.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I whispered, pulling Eddy after me as we followed Wynifred out of our home.
I gave one last look at Adrian before I left, gave him one nod, and blew one lone kiss for good measure.
The rage on his face did not leave.
Perfect.
11
Rowan
Blood dripped from fingers, it clung to walls, and pooled around my formerly white sneakers. It lay imprinted in scarlet prints on shoulders and arms that looked too close to desperate fingers. Reaching, pleading.
Screaming.
The sound, the color, the repeat of both sight and memory was everywhere. Blood coated the world as my own pulsed in my throat and made it hard to breathe.
This was not how I imagined my first time in Council.
There was only one room in Imdalind that I had never been allowed in, The Council Hall. Now that I was here, however, I wanted to turn right around and never return.
The room was beautiful, don’t get me wrong, the tall ceilings, the old stone work that swept over the ceiling in ribbons and magic and leaves that looked to real to be only stone. But all of that stone was coated in dark stains that drizzled against the walls, slithered over the floor and covered the massive stage-like dais at the far end of the cavernous room that didn’t look like mineral deposits. It was probably a trick of the light, or the fact that everyone that stood around me was coated in blood, but I was sure those dark stains over the stone were blood too.
I swallowed and stepped back from the rest, hovering with Talon, Dramin, and Patrice near the far wall where three chairs had been set up. We were present, but not included. The children of the King, but not rulers.
That role belonged to my Aunts and Uncles.
Mira, Ryland, Wyn, and my parents were all hovering around a giant piece of parchment that they had rolled out on the floor, pointing and talking while lines and dots moved between two points like it was some kind of magical ant hill. It took me a moment to realize what I was looking at: the body count. Well, I guess not ‘bodies’ seeing as no one had died, but all those squiggles and lines weren't necessarily the most positive
depiction.
The pulse in my throat was getting worse.
"All of those who completed the Gauntlet and received their bite before the explosion were successfully moved to the main hall in Imdalind," Mira said, pointing to the map as a whole bunch of blue lines moved from one point to another. "Most of the injuries were superficial, although we did have a few broken bones, and one or two..."
"That doesn't include whiney Magee, right?" Wyn asked, popping some bubble gum as she pointed to the lone purple squiggle that was with the blue ones in the faint grey lines that I instantly recognized as the main hall inside of Imdalind.
"No. Sia Demarco," Mira corrected, although her lips were already pulling up into a smirk, "has been moved to Imdalind. She has received her honorary bite--"
"As it should be," Talon grumbled under his breath from where we stood by the chairs, the muscles in his arms flexing as he crossed them over his chest.
"--and is with the other Chosen in the recovery hall," Mira continued without turning to the still mumbling Talon. "Her parents seem to be pacified for the moment, but Giovanni is already causing rumblings in the lower meeting hall. They all want to know what punishment our Undermortal faces."
Even Mira reference the girl with enough disdain that I flinched, my unruly worry of the girl mixing with Talons threat of before in an awkward guilt-concoction that was making everything spin. Although that may have been more from my magic trying to connect with my mother’s. She stood before the map; her eyes blacked out as she looked into something. I shoved my hands in my pockets, clenching and unclenching my fists as I forced myself to bite my tongue and stay out of the conversation.
Talon didn't have the same will-power.
"She should be locked in the dungeons after what she has done," he snapped loud enough that everyone was forced to turn this time, his muscles still flexing when he tried to burst through the inner ring of powerful Eternals. It only took one stern look from my father to send him to a halt. Although he didn’t back down. “They are still down there, I know. They were built for those that break the law--”
"Talon, those dungeons were built in a time of war that spanned over centuries of love, loss, and bloodshed. To have you suggest we use them in such a way is a disgrace to your family and your namesake. I have told you before that we do not rule with discrimination and fear, but with love and compassion," King Ilyan roared with a sound that rattled the stone, the magic in the air pressing against my bones.
No one else flinched. I guess I wasn’t the only one that had been stubbornly fighting against my parents the past few weeks, the look in their eyes made it clear they had done this with him before.
I took a tiny step back, however, carefully avoiding the dark stained stone.
"Compassion for who, father?" Talon roared nearly as loud as he took a step forward, trying to stare the man down although he stood a good head below him. "Compassion to the Chosen or to the--"
"All of the people who live in this realm are our people. All of them. Do not make me warn you again, Talon!" I wasn't sure if it was his magic or the level of his voice, but I was pretty sure the rock beneath my feet was shifting.
And I took another step back, even Patrice looked a little shaky at the anger that was dripping from the walls. Considering she had been allowed in the room for decades, I had a feeling this usually wasn’t went down in here.
"I don't--" Talon's snap didn't get past two words before he was lifted into the air and turned upside down, his shaggy hair flopping around as he flailed his arms and mumbled and screamed behind closed lips.
"Damn. I just wanted to shut him up before I punched his jaw in." Aunt Wyn said, hands on her hips as she looked up at my still flailing brother. "Didn't mean to Back to Future you, dude. You look like George McFly up there, complete with comb-over."
"That was me," Mira said, standing beside Wyn, both of them with big ol' smiles on their faces. "I figured if he was going to talk out of his ass, that part better be up."
I didn't know whether to laugh or high tail it out of there. I mean, my family was weird, but this was an uncomfortable combination of insanity I had never seen before.
Talon was still strung up by his ankles, mumbling and gesturing as he very clearly tried to curse everyone out. I had seen that look in his eyes enough to know what was on his mind.
Probably something to do with how we are all wankers.
"We all ready to talk civilly?" My mother asked with a bit of a snap. Her eyes had returned to normal, “Or am I going to have to make you hug it out?”
She narrowed her eyes between Talon and my father, verbal reprimand given. And a mental one judging by the tight-lipped stare from my father, who was now moving lines around the map with little thought of anyone else.
"Perfect." She continued once Talon had stopped mumbling and mentally cursing everyone out. She snapped her fingers, sending Talon down into a heap, and both Wyn and Mira giggling as they returned back to the map.
"Would you like to try again, son?" Father asked holding his hand out to a gasping Talon. His face was still red and heaving as he glared at the towering king, but he still took his hand, letting him pull him to his feet where he stood and winced.
Everyone was looking at him, everyone but Patrice who was leaned into Dramin, whispering something I couldn't hear. She wasn't using Czech, which was what my family normally spoke, and before my brain could define the language she had stopped, kissed my brother on the cheek and strode out the door behind us.
No one but Dramin and I noticed. They were all still staring at Talon, waiting for him to ‘try again’. He looked like a child being scolded, well a stubborn child with a jutting chin the size of a monster.
It would have been the perfect image, if my dad wasn’t oozing so much power the stone beneath my feet was still rattling slightly.
"What are you going to do to it… to her," he amended that last part when Wyn cleared her throat.
"Gemma," my mother corrected, moving the single green line from the yellows that denoted the mortals over to the outline of Imdalind. "Will be attending school. Mira will be controlling her magic with a tricky little shield that she developed back when she had a little problem in Japan."
"It's a fun one, it's like an on-off switch for tyrants.” Mira prattled with her usual grim expression when she was playing guard. “Although I might add the whole," she turned to Wyn. "What did you call it again?"
"Back to the future." The two were smiling again. I had a feeling my mom would be right by them too with the way the corners of her mouth were turning up. But she was all Queen right now.
"Yeah, that,” Mira said, folding her arms over her chest. “I might Back to Future her whenever she's out of line. It'll be fun."
"Don't make me question the decision to put you in charge of Gemma, Mira," Ilyan growled, still staring over the map.
"What do you mean, in charge of her?" I asked, regretting at once when all of the rage that Talon had been holing away turned to face me, his eyes narrowing in the same look from before.
"Mira will be following her day in and day out until we know for sure that she is no longer a threat to her. To anyone, really."
"So, like the Russian Mafia in the 1960s? Because I almost joined then and I would be glad to take up that mantle if needed." Wyn said, an eager glint in her eye. Everyone stared at her before turning back to the conversation.
“We have given her a chance, but she must prove herself worthy of it.” My mother was sounding a bit too much like my dad.
“Or she will go to the dungeons?” Talon asked, his jaw tight as he clearly tried to control his temper.
“Or something like that,” Mom wasn’t even smiling, I had a feeling that answer wasn’t anywhere near the truth. “The goal is still to unite our people, and this is an unfortunate backstep. Right now, we need to keep all parties as happy as we can. Wyn has told me the situation in the tunnels is worse than we feared. If we send food and supplies there, as well as
increase the public appearances and goodwill to the Chosen families it should begin healing on both sides and get us back on track.”
They all began nodding in agreement, plunging right into discussions about who is going where and why. Well, all but my brothers and I. We were left watching them like weird spectators, scowling spectators in Talon’s case.
“Somehow, I always thought Council was cooler than this,” I said, sinking into Patrice’s unoccupied chair besides Dramin.
“Council is cooler than this,” Dramin said, staring at the back of our scowling brother’s head. “This was not Council.”
“Then what was this?” It was hard to admit the balloon of acceptance that was deflating inside me.
“This was Talon’s rage hour,” Dramin chuckled as our aunts and uncle left.
“Is that why Patrice left?” I asked with a glance toward the door.
“Believe it or not, you are not the only person who has a hard time dealing with our meddling older brother.” Dramin wasn’t smiling.
“You mean leaving is an option? Because if I can slip out and not witness--”
“Not for you, Row. You have to stay.” Talon whirled around, his face as fiery as it had been when he went toe to toe with dad. “Don’t tell me your wife ran off, Dramin. Couldn’t handle it? I don’t know why you bonded yourself to her.”
“Love and Compassion, Tal,” Dramin said with a nod of his head. “Someday it’ll make an impact on you.”
“The only thing I want to make an impact on is--”
“Talon,” Father said from right behind him, cutting him off and causing him to jump a good foot in the air. So much for the big powerful butthead. The guy whimpered.
“Yes father?” He didn’t turn, he stared straight ahead, trying to rearrange his features as if he didn’t have an audience.
“Come for a walk with me.” It was not a question, and our dad was already heading toward the door in expectation.
“Have fun, Tal,” Dramin said, both of us wagging our fingers at him in farewell.
Talon audibly growled; whatever profanity he had been about to send our way repelled by one look from the King. Seconds later the chairs we were sitting on vanished, sending us tumbling to the floor, and Talon howling with laughter as the door shut behind him.
The Gauntlet Page 12