Nodding, Greg gazed into her face as yet another rosebud burst from her chest to bloom. “I will. I promise.”
He kissed her lips one final time. When he pulled away, he witnessed three roses twisting out of her heart and knew it was over. As her body sifted into ash, he let out a painful sob and stood. The powdery remains of his wife floated on the surface of the pool as the gnarl of roses tumbled into the water.
With a demonic hiss, Greg spun about to face Leto and Dexios. Green flame enveloped his body and for a second he considered setting them both on fire.
“Aeron and his queen are on their way to the throne room,” Leto said, ignoring his show of power. “It’s time.”
“You made me a promise, bitch!”
“And I kept it,” Leto retorted.
Greg glowered at her, barely able to contain his emotions. “This is a ploy worthy of a demon.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Leto had done a good job with the language of their agreement. She had fulfilled it. To the letter. When they’d sat in Sheila’s rental house discussing their plan, Greg had attempted to not let his emotions get the best of him, but he’d failed. Leto had even been clever enough to kill Siana with a rosewood stake in order to leech her power and destroy the ward, but allow her a slow enough death so Greg could hold her one last time.
“I need you to help me kill Aeron’s children and minions.” Leto regarded Greg thoughtfully and not without sympathy. That was surprising.
“Fine. I will. For Siana. But you have to promise me one last thing. And you had best keep this promise with no tricks. You got me?”
Leto and Dexios exchanged looks, then Leto said, “And what is that?”
“When that pasty asshole is dead, you vanquish me.” The demon hadn’t been sure he’d have the nerve to say the words, but once they left his lips, he felt empowered by his choice.
“You’ll go to Tartarus,” Dexios pointed out.
“It’s all connected in the Underworld. I’ll find a way to the Elysium to be with her.”
“You need a person of magic to vanquish a demon,” Dexios continued.
“Then you better keep Alisha alive, huh?” Greg glowered at the two beings in front of him. He wasn’t a demon of destruction, but tonight, he was far removed from his incubus nature. He didn’t want sex. He wanted blood, fire, vengeance, and death.
“You surprise me, demon,” Leto said.
“So?” Greg slapped his green flame-encased hands together. “We got a deal?”
“We have a deal.”
Greg got a huge kick out of Dexios’s worried look. The werewolf had a reason to look that way. The incubus was ready to destroy everything in his path, including Leto.
* * *
Armando leaned against the wall of the cell, listening to his werewolf friend conspiring with the remains of his pack. The air reeked of fear, sweat, smoke, and blood. The vampires, meanwhile, stood apart, quietly listening. Angel, however, compulsively stalked back and forth along the bars.
“As soon as they open the doors, I say we rush them,” Hank muttered to the group of werewolves clustered tightly around him.
The restless energy of the werewolves was gnawing on Armando’s nerves, but he couldn’t be concerned with their desperate hope of somehow breaking out. Armando knew exactly how the cell had been built. There would be no escape. He’d seen the remains of beings who’d attempted to break out of Aeron’s other cells. It was not a way he wanted to depart the earth.
Exhaling, he lifted his eyes to stare at the blank ceiling. How would he die? Would Aeron give him quick death or an excruciating one? Of course, if Vanora found a way to kill Aeron, that could mean a completely different sort of death. He wondered if, when the vampire race ceased to exist, it would hurt to die. Or perhaps they’d somehow survive Aeron’s death.
Armando actually doubted anyone gathered in the cell would survive the night. His only consolation at this point was that he’d said his goodbyes to Vanora. It was a blow to his pride that he was powerless to do anything more than wait for the end, yet that was his role. That he’d so completely disrupted Aeron’s plans was a bit of a salve, but it didn’t temper his anger. He was furious with the role he’d played in Vanora’s life at the behest of Aeron and how he’d helped doom her to this abysmal plight.
The werewolf discussion was becoming progressively more heated. The only competition to the noise they were making was Carlotta. She sat in the corner, sobbing violently as her son endeavored to soothe her.
Alexander sat next to her with his eyes closed and his hands resting on his drawn up knees. The man was in hell.
At his side, Tracy was seated with her head on his shoulder and her hand on his arm. She understood his grief and Alexander accepted her comfort.
“Do you think they can bust out?” Angel asked, pausing in his nervous pacing to look Armando in the eye.
“No.”
Next to Armando, Alisha sighed. “You seem certain of that.”
“I’ve seen the end result of trying to escape this type of cell. It’s futile unless Dexios can get Siana to lower the wards. But if she’s under an edict...” Armando shrugged dismissively. “Besides, where would we go?”
“I say take the fight to Aeron. Kill his people. Find a way to kill him. Rescue Vanora.” Angel restarted his pacing.
“Vanora is the only one who can end this,” Alisha reminded Angel.
“So you say, but what if you’re wrong?” Angel fastened a fierce look on Vanora’s older sister.
“I’m not,” Alisha answered with finality in her voice. Swinging about so that her attention was on Armando, she said, “Shouldn’t Vanora be with Aeron by now? Shouldn’t something be happening?”
The same questions had occurred to him, but he feared the answer. “I would think so, but I don’t want to speculate.”
“Do you think the spell...” Alisha lowered her eyes, her discomfort at her next words very evident in her expression. “...got her? Took hold?”
Wearily, Armando brushed Alisha’s arm with his fingers. “Have faith that she’s strong enough to fight it.”
“I know I have trouble seeing her as anything other than my little sister, but she’s out there and I’m here and it’s making me freakin’ nuts.”
Chuckling, Armando replied, “Me, too.” It was pure hell not being at Vanora’s side.
“I didn’t expect the end to be like this.” Alisha glanced at the arguing werewolves, then at the sobbing vampire and her son.
“Me neither.”
“What did you think would happen?”
The query stumped him. Armando considered it for a long moment. “I don’t know. I have always feared death, but not contemplated how it would take me. And, honestly, I felt protected by Aeron’s power.”
“I always thought I was immortal. Even before the vampire thing. I never even considered dying because I knew Vanora and Roman needed me. I just put it out of my mind.” Alisha folded her arms over her breasts and sighed. “Now, I’m just wondering if it’s going to hurt. And if it will hurt a lot.”
Nearby, Alexander opened his eyes and stared at them with a solemnity that was somehow painful.
“One way or the other, death always hurts,” Armando replied, not certain if the comment was his or somehow Alexander’s.
The door on the far end of the room housing the cell opened. Pólemos and a heavily armed contingent entered. Several large werewolves were among them. Beside Armando, Alisha swore under her breath. She’d never seen the werewolves in bright light and their fearsome half-man/half-wolf appearance was incredibly intimidating. Leto’s werewolves called the state miso-likos.
“Step back from the doorway,” Pólemos ordered.
The armed guards aimed their weapons at the imprisoned pack that was clearly ready to fight.
“You don’t want these silver rounds in you and you definitely do not want the ward to fry you.” Pólemos met Hank’s stare and his upper l
ip curled to reveal one sharp wolf fang. “Back away from the exit, dog.”
Snarling, Hank’s face stretched slightly, starting to take on the characteristics of canine. His pack followed his example, hunching shoulders, lowering their heads, and sprouting claws and fangs.
Pólemos drew his revolver from its holster and shot Hank four times in the legs, splintering bone and rending muscle. With a scream of pain, the leader fell to the floor, and his pack instantly shrank away from the door to gather around him.
“Bad form, Pólemos. He’s challenging you with teeth,” Armando said, not able to keep his temper in check.
“He’s beneath me. I don’t have time to deal with dogs.” Pólemos jerked a red stone out of his jacket and passed it over the locking mechanism of the cell. It audibly clicked. “You and her sister. C’mon.”
Alexander was immediately on his feet.
Carlotta lifted her tear-streaked face and shot a panicked look at Armando while Francisco truly seemed worried.
Tracy popped up to her feet. “No way.”
Angel moved to stand just in front of her. “They’re not leaving.”
“I don’t have time for posturing and shows of solidarity,” Pólemos warned. “I will fill you all with silver. I’ll aim so it won’t kill you, but it will hurt like hell.”
“I thought you needed us for your gladiator games,” Tracy snapped.
Pólemos grinned. “There will be many nights of celebration now that the White Queen is here. You’ll get your chance to die. Now, you two, come here.” The werewolf shoved open the cell door.
“We’ll go,” Armando said, looking significantly at his friends. Hopefully, they would have more time to plan. They couldn’t escape the cell, but maybe when they were removed for the gladiator games they’d have a chance.
Armando clasped Alisha’s hand in his and guided her past their friends and the angry werewolves. Her hand was trembling, but she came willingly. He supposed that they’d both come to the conclusion that death was inevitable. He also suspected they were both hoping to see Vanora.
When they crossed over the threshold of the cell, Armando was surprised not to feel the ward skimming over his body. The ward obeyed Pólemos since he held an enchanted key, so perhaps it was passive. Still, it seemed odd.
The guards and the miso-likos immediately surrounded Armando and Alisha before dragging the two out of the room and into a long hallway.
While they walked, Armando placed his free hand in his pocket to touch the silver dagger that was tucked into the lining of his jacket. He’d been surprised when Alexander had pressed it into his hand earlier, but grateful that the other vampire was clever enough to conceal the daggers in his thick boot soles. Claws and teeth could rend and kill, but a silver blade caused blinding pain that could buy him and Alisha time to escape. The question was when.
* * *
The White Queen was triumphant.
As she strolled up the elegant hallway on the arm of her beloved Aeron, she knew with the greatest certainty that Arianrhod had won. At last the long laid plans of Aeron’s mother and the White Queen’s creator had come to fruition. The mortal vestiges of Vanora’s existence were vanquished and at last the White Queen was fully born.
Arianrhod had been compelled to cast the White Queen spell as a failsafe after having a vision of her descendants defying her. Faced with her looming mortal death, the former goddess hadn’t the time to imbue The White Queen with much more than the understanding of her purpose, sufficient knowledge of Aeron to serve him well, and the will to survive. If Vanora didn’t love and obey Aeron of her own free will, then the White Queen would manifest.
Though the White Queen had all of Vanora’s memories, she didn’t feel any attachment to the life the mortal had lived. It wasn’t her life. Since she had no perception of free will, she didn’t comprehend why Vanora had fought her destiny. More a magical construct than actual being, the White Queen was aware of the task before her and was ready to obey.
Beside her, Aeron was silent and a little grim. The White Queen understood this look to be one of resolve. The situation had not turned out as he had imagined, but he was adapting.
“Is she gone?” Aeron ventured to ask, his voice a low purr that resounded through the lengthy hallway.
Smiling, the White Queen said, “Yes.”
Aeron nodded, but he did not seem happy. “That is good.”
“No one will stop what your mother has planned. It took nearly her entire mortal life to construct the spells now in action. Soon she will return in the guise of your daughter to help you create a new world out of the old.”
“I’ve missed her,” Aeron confessed. “More than words can ever express. I cannot forgive Vanora for attempting to thwart her and destroy me.”
“She’s gone. Vanquished to the ether.” The White Queen squeezed his arm gently. “All is as it should be.”
“No,” Aeron answered gruffly. “It’s not. She betrayed me.”
“But I am here.”
He’d avoided looking at her since he’d turned on Vanora, but at last he cocked his head to look down upon her. “Yes, you are.”
The White Queen smiled.
* * *
Alisha clung to Armando’s hand as Pólemos led them through a series of corridors and up and down various stairwells. The haven was surprisingly close to what she’d expected of Aeron: cold, sterile, and elegant.
“In movies everything is so dreary and gothic when it comes to vampires,” Alisha whispered to Armando.
“Like the Socoli Mansion?” Armando winked at her.
Despite their circumstances, his comment made her smile.
“No talking,” Pólemos barked from the front of the group.
Alisha glared at the back of his head.
The whiteness of the place was incredibly off-putting, though it made the guards easy to see in their dark uniforms. She supposed that was a plus if she and Armando figured out a way to escape.
Beside her, a huge werewolf sauntered on its back legs, its black toenails clicking on the floor. The massive maw filled with sharp teeth and the long black claws were intimidating, but Alisha wasn’t nearly as frightened of the werewolves as she had once been. Having fought them, she was confident she could do some serious damage before they took her down.
Alisha was deeply concerned that there wasn’t an obvious manifestation of Vanora killing Aeron. Though she knew that no one knew how to kill Aeron, Alisha had confidence in her sister. Vanora had insight into the situation that everyone else lacked.
Craning her head to look around, Alisha started to wonder if the long hallways were underground passages between buildings. There weren’t any doors opening off of them and stairways were at both ends. Each time the group ascended a set of steps, she caught glimpses of other corridors, closed doors, and sometimes arched entrances into large rooms.
The human servants ducking away from the entourage were all clad in white and Alisha spotted puncture wounds on their throats and wrists.
Finally the entourage entered a massive hallway with a high arched ceiling festooned with sparking candelabras. Doric pillars and marble statues lined the walls. Ahead were tall double doors that opened to a large room filled with people.
Armando squeezed Alisha’s hand gently. Glancing at him, she saw the worry in his golden eyes. He was definitely expecting the worst, which was exceedingly distressing. Alisha wanted to retain hope, but the closer they came to the doorway, the stronger her doubts became.
Leto waited for them outside the throne room.
“Hold them here. I want to present them formally to the king and queen,” Leto said to Pólemos.
Pólemos regarded her with suspicion, which surprised Alisha. “Very well.” Pólemos watched Leto disappear into the throng of vampires, animatedly talking and laughing as they awaited their king and his new queen.
“They got the throne room cleaned up rather quickly, didn’t they?” Lorelei sidled out of the room to pe
er up at Pólemos. “Blood and ashes were everywhere.”
By the straightening of his spine and the sharp look he gave the small vampire, it was clear she’d struck a nerve. “Mirrah nearly killed you.”
Lorelei shrugged. “I’m alive. She’s dead.” The innocent looking teen peered past the armed guards at Alisha and Armando. A cruel smile spread onto her lips. “Oh, look. It’s the traitor.” Lifting her hand, she waggled her fingers at Armando. “I’m going to ask Aeron if I can kill you. Won’t that be fun?”
“I’m going to kill you, you stupid bitch,” Alisha threatened, stepping forward.
Armando tightened his hold on her hand and pulled her back. “Not now,” he muttered under his breath.
Lorelei rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She pointedly turned her back on them and strode into the crowd.
Pressing his lips to her ear, Armando whispered, “Wait until I signal you.”
“No talking!” Pólemos barked. “Separate them.”
The huge werewolf grabbed their wrists, tugged their hands apart, then stepped between them. Alisha narrowed her eyes at him - it was definitely a male from the sheathed canine penis - and crossed her arms over her breasts. “You could have asked nicely.”
The werewolf either laughed or grunted. She couldn’t tell which.
The moment Alisha had been dreading started to unfold and she pressed her fingertips into her arms to keep from losing her cool. The walls of the circular throne room pivoted and slid aside to reveal an even larger chamber behind it. Even more attendees dressed in their best finery were crowded inside. Alisha briefly glimpsed Dexios guiding Kallos through the throng.
Aeron and Vanora approached the thrones from a side door. Immediately the vampires, werewolves, and perhaps other supernatural creatures fell silent at their approach. Vanora looked beautiful in a fairytale gown of silk organza that floated around her slim body like a cloud. Diamonds sparkled in the exquisite jewelry and tiara she wore. She looked every inch the queen. This is how she should have looked on Roman’s arm as he walked her down the aisle on her wedding day.
In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete Third Season Page 36