Lord of Chaos (The Dragon Demigods Book 7)

by Charlene Hartnady

  “A life for a life,” he says, being cryptic.

  I keep my eyes on his. I keep my expression neutral, and I don’t say anything. If I could leave, I would.

  “The life I offer is Warrick.”

  It’s the last thing I expected to hear. I frown. I think I might even take a step back. I’m knocked off-kilter. The whole world feels like it turns on its axis. “What? No!” I shake my head.

  Gaire is smiling broadly. He nods. “Yes. Warrick. I offer you his life in return for the hellhound.”

  I snort. “That’s not possible. You can’t—”

  “I can! I am. It’s very possible, I assure you. I can bring him back. Like nothing happened.”

  “No. Come on, you—”

  Death appears.

  I try to shout, ‘no – I need to talk this through with Gaire!’ but I’m not quick enough. I’m in the vortex. Moments later, I’m falling to the floor. I get up. My head is spinning but, I’m okay otherwise. No nausea. My body is growing accustomed to being teleported.

  I pull in a deep breath. “Take me back!” I shout.

  “What?” both Death and Jarrod say.

  “He’s out of it,” Death tells Jarrod.

  “Star moved Nia,” Jarrod says.

  “Good,” Death says as he grabs my arm. We’re teleporting again. I close my eyes, gritting my teeth. I’m not feeling sick, but I’m not enjoying it either.

  The ground feels like it’s suddenly being pushed up. Like I’m being lifted. Like my head might hit the ceiling. I only stay on my feet because Death holds me. I’m not sure where I am. It’s a small apartment. There is vegetation everywhere. The place is crammed with plants, many of which are flowering. There isn’t much in the way of furniture. One small sofa. A two-man table. The kitchenette is just as small and filled with greenery as well.

  “Don’t look so put out,” Death says. “I’m not home much, and I have green fingers.” He holds up his hands.

  This is Death’s place? “Um… It’s nice,” I say, still looking around. “I live in a small cabin. Who am I to judge? I was wondering, that’s all. I didn’t know about the green fingers…wow! You’re good. This place reminds me of a jungle.”

  Death looks at me strangely. “You’re being too chatty for you. Are you feeling okay?”

  I nod and then pull in a sharp breath. “Where’s Nia?”

  “We’ll wait to hear where Star took her, but she’s safe.”

  I nod. “Okay, good, that’s good.”

  “Nice outfit.” Death smiles for half a beat, looking down.

  I look down, too, at the sheet that is wrapped around me. “I wasn’t planning on being taken by that asshole. Had I known, I would have dressed for the occasion.”

  “Why did you ask me to take you back? What did he say to you? I wouldn’t trust him.”

  “It took him so long to get to the point that when he finally did…you arrived. It wasn’t what I expected.”

  “What did he say?”

  “A life for a life,” I repeat Gaire’s words. “He was trying to negotiate for Nia.”

  “Negotiate how?” Death cocks his head.

  I go over our general conversation. Filling him in. I pause right at the end. “He offered me Warrick’s life. He offered to bring Warrick back from the dead.”

  “What? I don’t think he has that kind of power.” Death shakes his head.

  “Is it possible?” I ask. “I didn’t think it would be possible. I thought he was lying.” I force myself to stop talking.

  “It’s possible,” Death says. “I’ve never seen it done, and I’m not sure if there would be repercussions.”

  “Repercussions?” My mind is racing. “You mean like Pet Cemetery?” I reference a well-known Stephen King book in which a family buries their cat in the cemetery at their house, and it returns from the dead. Alive but not the same, and not in a good way.

  “Something like that. You’re not thinking of handing Nia over?” Death narrows his eyes. “Are you seriously considering it?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “I wouldn’t do that.”

  Death heaves a sigh. “I didn’t think so, but it’s good to hear it.”

  “I think I might have feelings for Nia,” I say. I put up a hand. “I know. It’s too soon. I barely know her. I’m more than likely thinking with my little head rather than my big head. I’m being an idiot.” I swallow thickly. “I’ve been telling myself all of this on replay since I woke up this morning. I can’t shake the feeling.” I pause for a second, “It’s okay, you can tell me I’m crazy.”

  “I think you’re crazy,” Death deadpans.

  “I know…I know.” I’m nodding like a madman. I run a hand through my hair. “I need to stop my shit. I can stop panicking because I can’t possibly have feelings for her.”

  “I think you’re crazy because I can’t imagine falling in love myself, but I’ve seen the way you look at her. I think you might be right.”

  I frown, “I look at her in a certain way?” Fuck! This is bad. She might have noticed. Of course she fucking noticed. I almost kissed her earlier. I felt something when I looked into her eyes earlier. The sex was more than just fucking. It was so much more.

  “Oh, yes.” Death nods. “I’ve seen Night look at his wife like that. Bolt…” he rolls his eyes, “he is like a lovesick puppy.”

  “This is a problem. A big fucking problem.” I almost can’t believe what I’m hearing. I want to pace because pacing always calms me down, but I can’t. No space. “I’ve only known Nia for two days. What’s wrong with me? We’re good together. I think it might be the sex. It’s definitely the sex. It’s good…amazing…mind-blowing. Could it be the great sex?” I ask Death. I’m talking too much. I’m panicking a little.

  Death chuckles. “It might be the sex, but I’m sure there’s a whole lot more there than just a good physical relationship. Also, you’ve known her for longer than just two days.”

  “She was in her dog form before that,” I snort. “Hardly counts.”

  “It does count. It doesn’t matter what form a person is in. It shouldn’t matter.” Death is so pragmatic.

  “You’re right.” I nod. “Although I did take her to the pound.” I wince.

  “Maybe you took her because you were feeling yourself becoming attached.”

  There’s something there. Death might be right. “I’m not crazy, then? I’m not thinking with my dick?” I ask him. I don’t even want to think about the offer Gaire made. Even if I trusted him wholeheartedly, I could never trade the life of a living person for that of someone already passed. I could never live with myself. I could never forgive myself. I have to live with what I did. With what happened. I’ll be damned if I’m adding Nia to my list of casualties.

  I might be falling for Nia, but I can’t keep her. As much as I want to, I can’t. I’ve done enough damage in my life. I’m too much of a loose cannon. I might end up hurting her. I can’t let that happen.

  I wish with everything in me that it could be different, but it can’t. I wish I could trust myself, but I can’t. If I lose control, even for a second, people might die. She might die. No fucking way is that happening.

  I have to find a way to help her, and then I must watch her walk away. I meant it when I said she could hurt me. Watching her leave will cut me deep. I will bleed. My advanced healing won’t be able to help me. Nothing will. But I can do it. It’s not too late because I’m not in too deep.

  Death’s phone rings.

  20

  Nia

  Death and Rage appear. I’ve never been happier to see a person in my whole life. I launch myself into Rage’s arms. “Oh, my goodness!” I push the words out. My face is buried in his chest. “I thought you were dead.” I hug him even harder for a few more seconds, relishing the closeness. His arms are tight around me. His face is buried in the crook of my neck. I want to stay right here. I want it so badly that I push Rage way, taking a step back. “Gaire took you?”

&n
bsp; Rage nods.

  “I need to go,” Death says. He has that pinched look. “I’ll stay close, as will Star. In case…in case you need us…” Star left a few minutes ago. She assured me of the same. Between her and Death, we should be okay. We can’t keep running from Gaire forever. I have that thought strongly in the back of my mind. “You know what to do if he turns up.”

  “Yes, and thank you,” Rage says as Death disappears in a cloud of ozone. The scent dissipates quickly out in the open air. We’re outside Rage’s house. He pulls the sheet more tightly around himself. “Good thing I don’t have any neighbors nearby,” he says, looking down at himself.

  “What did Gaire want?” I ask him.

  “He wanted to bargain with me.”

  “A bargain? What kind of bargain?” I swallow thickly. “It was probably something you really want. Gaire is good at finding a person’s weakness and exploiting it.”

  “Let’s go inside.” Rage gestures to the door.

  I feel my mouth turn dry. Is Rage about to tell me that he’s accepting the offer? Is this him letting me down gently? Maybe I misread the emotions I saw earlier. Or maybe whatever it is that Gaire has offered is just too important to Rage to pass up.

  We go inside.

  “You should really stop wearing my shirts.” When I look at Rage, there’s humor glinting in his eyes. I’m still in the t-shirt Rage discarded earlier.

  I get straight back to the question that’s sitting at the forefront of my mind. “What did Gaire want? What did he offer you?”

  “Do you want something to drink?” He goes to the refrigerator.

  Why is he stalling? “No.” I shake my head. “I need to know what happened. You’re making me nervous here.”

  “You have nothing to be nervous about.”

  I give him a look.

  “Okay, I’ll take that back; you have a lot to be nervous about.” He grabs a soda and opens it, closing the refrigerator with his elbow. “You sure you don’t want one?” He holds up the can.

  I feel too anxious to drink. “I’m sure.” My stomach feels tightly clenched.

  “Let’s sit.” He gestures at the sofa. It’s the same one I slept on the night before last. It feels like forever ago.

  I sit on the edge of the seat. My full attention is on him.

  Rage puts the can down on the coffee table. “I’ll be back in a sec.” He disappears into his bedroom, returning half a minute later wearing a pair of sweatpants. He sits next to me. Rage just sits there for a few moments. It’s like he’s composing himself. I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from saying anything. My palms are starting to sweat. Rage finally pulls some air in through his nose. He’s squeezing his thighs in his big hands. His whole stance is rigid. Oh my gosh! This is bad. “When I was sixteen, something terrible happened.” He’s looking down at his lap. “I really liked this girl. We went out a bunch of times. I felt like she was the sun, the moon, and the stars, all rolled into one.” He’s rubbing his thighs. It’s nerves.

  “What happened?” I say. It doesn’t sound like there was a happy ending. I almost don’t want to know.

  “In hindsight, it was a whole lot of hormones, but back then, I thought she was the one. We’d gone to third base, and I felt like it wouldn’t be long before…it became really serious between us.” He chuckles, but it’s filled with pain and suffering. “I was so excited about finally having sex. About being with Bella. I was so stupid!” he growls the last.

  “That’s not stupid; it’s young love. My brothers wouldn’t let anyone near me, but I can understand what it must have felt like.”

  “It was stupid because Bella didn’t feel the same way about me. Not even close. My best friend also liked her, but I started dating her first, so he stayed away. I played down what I was feeling for her. I didn’t want Warrick and our friends to laugh at me. I pretended it wasn’t a big deal, that I didn’t care for her as much as I did.” He scrubs a hand over his face. His eyes are on a spot on the far side of the room. I can see that he’s thinking back. He grips his thighs again. “So, there I was, feeling all in love. I went over to Bella’s place, thinking this would be the day we went all the way. The day I would get to tell her that I was in love with her. There were stars in my eyes. My palms were sweaty. I was so excited. No one answered the door, So I went around back. I saw them there. My girlfriend, Bella, and my best friend, Warrick, who was all over her. It was hot and heavy, and I saw red.”

  I watch as Rage stands. He’s a bundle of nerves and energy. It’s at times like these that I can feel his power. It’s a similar feeling you get if you stand too close to one of those massive speakers at a concert. The air feels charged, displaced somehow. I watch him walk to the other side of the room, his hand squeezing the back of his neck. When he turns, his eyes have this tortured look. He doesn’t feel quite as charged.

  He walks back and sits, breathing out through his nose. “I can’t believe how betrayed I felt. We were kids. It was stupid. I lost it. I punched him. I said terrible things, not just about him but about her too.” He sniffs. I can see the emotions simmering beneath the surface. “I didn’t ask what was going on. I didn’t wait for replays. I hit Warrick. I hit my friend, and he retaliated. I deserved it. I was young and so fucking stupid. I got angry. Before I knew it, we were in a full-on punching match. I lost control. I can’t remember what happened next. I’m not sure if I blacked out or if I’ve blocked the memory. When I came to, I was covered in blood. Eight men were holding me down. Several of them were bloody. There were four bodies on the ground.” His voice breaks. I can see him trying to compose himself.

  “Three of the men on the floor were badly beaten. They had broken limbs. They were bleeding and seriously hurt. One of them had to fight for his life. It was touch and go for a couple of days. Then there was Warrick…” I see his throat work. He rubs his eyes. “I killed him, Nia. I killed my best friend with my bare hands.” He holds up his hands, looking at them like they’re bloody now. I can see a tortured, haunted look in his eyes.

  “It was an accident,” I tell him, my voice is a whisper. No wonder. This poor, tortured soul.

  Rage shakes his head. “He was my friend. My best fucking friend. I just lost it. I was a jealous asshole. I found out afterward that Bella had convinced him that we had broken up. I realized that she didn’t care about me. She never had. Either of us, for that matter. I let something so stupid get to me. I killed him over something so trivial. That’s not an accident.” There’s anguish written all over his face. “I let myself get so angry that I lost control. I tore his head…” Rage stops talking. His jaw is tight. He’s breathing fast. He drops his head into his hands, covering his face.

  “You were young. You…couldn’t have known that you would lose it. That you would blackout and—”

  “It’s no excuse. I knew my powers were huge. I could feel it. Could feel them inside. I should have been more careful. What should have been a fistfight…a busted lip…a torn shirt, and some bruised egos…ended up in tragedy. I should never have been forgiven for what I did. Bella told everyone that I started to glow. Apparently, when I let my powers out, my whole body gets this strange glow. I become a fighting, killing machine. She called me a freak, and she was right.”

  “Berserker mode,” I say. “You are the lord of war. You are not a freak.”

  “It’s terrible. I’m a fuck up! There’s no thought. No control. No off button. I kill. I do so indiscriminately. I killed my best friend. I would have killed more people if they hadn’t stopped me. They held me down for fifteen minutes. It took eight adult dragon shifters to hold me down long enough for whatever state I was in to pass.”

  “I can’t imagine what that must have felt like. What you must have gone through. You’ve never forgiven yourself.” It’s not a question. I’m stating a fact.

  “I don’t deserve to be forgiven.”

  “You didn’t know it would happen.”

  “I could feel it. I can feel the power insid
e me. It’s simmering beneath the surface. I let it out that day. I was so angry that I let it out, and I did the unforgivable.”

  “You said that you were forgiven, though. I’m sure there’s a reason for that.” I try.

  He nods, “I wasn’t persecuted. I wasn’t sentenced to death, but I was banished from the dragon lands. My mother and I lived in this cabin,” he looks around him, “on the outskirts of dragon shifter lands. They said they couldn’t trust that it wouldn’t happen again. They were right to be afraid. My poor mom.” Rage blinks. His eyes are shimmering. His throat works. “She couldn’t be with her people. Couldn’t stay in her beautiful home. She never got over what happened. She died two years later.”

  “Oh, no!” I touch the side of his arm. “That must have been rough.”

  “I was alone for a couple of years after that. It was a good thing. I could sort through a whole lot of shit inside my head. The guys visited. Then they left the weyr as well. My mom sounded like you. Told me I was being too hard on myself. That I wasn’t myself when the power took over. She worked hard at getting me to forgive myself. I think all of it was what made her sick. Dragon shifters don’t get sick easily. Not like she did. I think she died of loneliness. Of a broken heart. Her death is also on me.” His voice chokes up.

  I want to tell him it’s not true. That he’s truly being too hard on himself, but I don’t. I’m sure he’s been told all of this before.

  “That’s why I won’t let myself lose control. That’s why I keep such a handle on my powers. You’re right, I might be able to kill Gaire if I did let go, but I doubt I’d have control of my powers. I’d end up going on a killing spree. I might kill you. Anyone else who got in my way. Innocent humans…” He’s shaking his head.

  “I understand,” I say. “It makes sense. You might be surprised how much control you have now, though. You’re an adult. Newly acquired powers are dangerous things.”

  “I won’t take that chance. I can’t!”