Crypts and Crimes (Trixie Towers Book 3)

by Scarlett Dawn

  Nonetheless, I already knew I didn’t like it.

  King Elon hissed, “If this Fae fucking mess is done, then shall we finally move along?”

  King Athon sniffed at the air, stating in a bored tone, “They are coming now.”

  The King of Gorgons spewed a curse. “It would have been appreciated if you had mentioned they weren’t close before.”

  “Now they are.” My sneaky soul mate motioned to the left, his rough shifter accent rumbling deeply. “We should take cover over there. That is where the brush is the highest.”

  Queen Mikko nodded. “I agree with your assessment.”

  Together, we jogged over the grass and mud, heading directly for the deep foliage near the swamp. Our bags continued to get caught on hard, sticky plants the farther we moved, but we lifted our bags above our heads until we were completely covered. We stopped and turned around, looking back toward the crypts.

  It was hard to see anything from this vantage point.

  The King of Shifters ran his gaze over the group, a soft huff passing between his lips. “From here on out, follow my actions until Queen Mikko says otherwise.” He shoved his bag against his back and laid down on his stomach. The tiger shifter started crawling through the foliage with his elbows and knees, staying low, his stomach almost touching the ground.

  I sneered at the back of his head.

  Apparently, I was to act like an animal.

  King Elon, Queen Mikko, and Queen Alora did as ordered while I stayed put, evaluating if there was another option.

  “Do it,” King Traevon stated softly—too quietly—against my ear. “Get down and crawl.”

  I jerked in place. My king had snuck behind me without my noticing him moving. I swallowed hard when he placed his hand gently on my shoulder.

  “Don’t make me repeat it, my heir,” he demanded.

  The man behind me was definitely my king.

  My extremely furious king. The deadly one.

  I glanced over my shoulder, searching his eyes.

  Only coldness stared back at me.

  “It isn’t what you think,” I whispered.

  King Traevon lifted one red eyebrow, his tone as calm as the reprieve before the storm. “Are you ready to tell me what has been happening?”

  My emerald eyes flicked back and forth between his, attempting to find my father in there somewhere.

  There was nothing: nothing but the king.

  Hot tears burned my eyes, but I blinked quickly, not letting them fall. I gulped down the horrible tightness in my throat and stared hard into his brutal gaze.

  My father could not know, to keep him safe—no matter how much it hurt to lie to him. And neither could my king—to keep my soul mate safe.

  I stated coldly, “No.”

  It was the first time I had ever talked to him as such.

  And it felt Fae damned wrong.

  King Traevon’s nostrils flared, and his jaw tightened brutally. “It is to be that way then, my heir?”

  “It is.” Ice touched each word.

  I turned my face from him, squatted down, away from his hold, and swiftly did as we’d been instructed to do. I crawled after the group, making the least amount of noise as I could—my king following behind me. The swampy ground was half sludge, my entire body coated in the muck from head to toe. The closer I crawled to the water, the deeper down my body sank, my elbows and knees squishing into it until I could swim silently in the mess, the ground still within reach.

  I stopped beside the caster queen, where everyone was lined up in a row, watching the landscape through the reeds. I followed her positioning, pulling my legs beneath me and sitting so the water reached my chin—the rest of my body submerged, my bag heavy against my back.

  King Traevon halted beside me, doing as I’d done.

  The landscape was full of guards attired in purple, and Kera Boone, all sitting on their horses as they rode closer to our position.

  I glanced down at the water. Then to the trees nearby.

  My teeth ground together, knowing this was where we needed to be. This was a place of buried bodies and illegal dealings—a land of death.

  The edges of my lips pulled down in a frown as I squinted hard at Kera’s entourage. I whispered, “Is that the barkeep from last night?”

  “No. I secured our room from her.” Queen Mikko glared through the reeds, duckweed floating around her neck on the water. “She is the owner of the inn.”

  My nostrils flared. “Shit.”

  This mess was straightening out to be a very ugly line.

  The riders stopped their horses next to the largest willow tree I had ever seen, its trunk near where we had slept last night. They dismounted their horses, talking amongst themselves as they gazed up to the statues.

  Except for Kera and the innkeeper.

  They were talking together off to the side... Kera handed over a small, purple coin bag to the other woman. Both of them laughed together, broad smiles on their faces.

  I cocked my head, opening my mouth to speak.

  “What crypt lies under that tree, Queen Mikko?” King Traevon questioned quietly. “Or do I even need to ask?”

  The King of Elves took the words right out of my mouth, my thought exactly the same as his.

  The Queen of Casters stated distantly, “You have guessed correctly. It is the original caster.”

  My eyes closed in resignation, dread and defeat roiling in my stomach. I would be going down into the crypts—all of us needed to retrieve the artifact. It looked like I would see the vile bastard, after all.

  No one moved even though we knew the artifact’s whereabouts. What spanned in front of us was horrific enough.

  Fae danced out of the tree, the most beautiful creatures I had ever seen in my life. Their skin shone bright under the morning sun, their flesh barely covered with sheer, white material—that did not belong to this realm. It curled around their bodies on its own, constantly moving like a lover’s touch.

  The Fae bent and swayed, their eyes hungry on the guards. The sensual beings reached for the casters and then pulled their arms back. Slowly, they circled the guards, their erotic, bizarre dance drawing all of the guards’ attention—in a bad way for them.

  Kera and the innkeeper didn’t even look their way, continuing their conversation, as if nothing odd was happening a few feet beyond them.

  The dancing circle slowly lured the guards closer to the tree, touching the casters now, gradually removing their own peculiar clothing and wrapping it around the guards’ eyes—blindfolding them. A Fae stepped back into the tree, holding on to her seduced guard’s arms, pulling him inside.

  I turned my head sharply to the caster queen.

  Wasn’t she going to stop this?

  More and more of her people were disappearing inside.

  My lips pinched as I tracked her gaze. It was on her sister.

  Tears started trailing down Queen Mikko’s muddy cheeks, pouring down the longer she stared. The caster queen held perfectly still in the water, not one expression on her face except for those tears of torment. Her breathing remained the same even as more pain shed from her eyes.

  The last of the caster guards slipped into the tree.

  Only then did Kera move. She turned and watched the tree. Her arms crossed, a satisfied smile on her face as the willow…began to cry.

  It cried blood.

  Blood poured from the leaves down onto the ground. It cried so much lifeblood that it saturated the grass and the dirt, flowing down the wet ground right into the edge of the swamp…the dark water running red.

  Dead casters in purple were randomly being thrown out of the tree in all directions, some high, some low, their bodies thudding down onto the ground heartlessly.

  Queen Mikko sucked in a sharp, brutal breath, her shoulders beginning to quiver. “The crime has been committed. That is all I need to see.” She started rocking back and forth in the water, her head tipping back to stare at the leaves above us. She chok
ed on a sob, lifting the back of her muddy hand to her mouth, her tears a falling force of despair. She rasped, “King Athon, kill the innkeeper, please.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, the innkeeper dropped to her knees, grabbing her neck as blood poured out of her mouth—it was not a quick and easy death, the shifter king taking his time with her.

  Kera jumped back from the woman, her eyes large in fear.

  Queen Mikko tilted her head back down, her brown, swirling mist eyes staring right at her sister. She hiccupped through her words. “King Traevon, you’re soul-mated. I need you to go into that wicked place…and kill all of them. Then burn that fucking tree down.”

  “With pleasure,” Father stated too calmly, standing to his full height and walking through the water and reeds.

  “Wait,” I demanded harshly. “Are you sure that is safe, my king?”

  Kera snapped her head in his direction, seeing him now.

  King Traevon didn’t stop moving, his face forward on his goal. “I am bonded, my heir. I’ll be able to enter without their power working on me—you won’t be queen anytime soon. Have no worries on that.”

  I stared at the back of his head. He hadn’t said daughter when he truly might not survive. He and I had come to a standoff.

  Possibly, King Athon had ruined us. In just two days.

  The Queen of Casters stated, “Everyone else, grab the bodies and pull them away from the tree. I would suggest you hurry. King Traevon won’t take long.”

  Queen Mikko stood out of the water, and her brown mist eyes started swirling faster. Then the worst happened. The mist curled out of her eyes, growing and expanding as she whispered so quietly that no one could hear her.

  I swiftly moved back, my gaze wide in horror.

  The Queen of Casters was using her royal charmpower.

  The brown mist disappeared…and reappeared right in front of Kera’s face, seeping into her eyes. The caster queen walked through the muck. She stated softly, “If you will excuse me, I have something I must do.”

  My nostrils flared as I sucked in a deep, calming breath. I stood to do as I must—more dead bodies in another kingdom. I waded through the swamp with the four rulers, toward the lifeless bodies, my traveling bag heavy against my leg.

  King Traevon marched straight at the bloody tree.

  Queen Mikko ambled toward her sister.

  I swallowed as Father disappeared inside the trunk, his steps not faltering once toward his destination, not frightened of what he would encounter, completely trusting in his abilities.

  Instantly, heat blazed from the tree, rolling in waves.

  The three rulers and I hurried our steps.

  Queen Alora finally spoke, quickly ordering, “King Athon, take the ones closest to the tree. King Elon and I will take the middle ground. Princess Trixie, you’ll handle those farthest away from the tree.” Intelligently, she ordered it by body strength.

  My eyes swiftly scanned the blood-drenched terrain.

  I had six to move so they could be buried properly. I halted in front of my first target, gagging down the bile that rose in the back of my throat. The caster guard’s flesh was sunken down to the bone—his life sucked right out of him. I grabbed his ankles and quickly moved, grunting hard with the effort to keep my footing on the crimson mud.

  I glanced to the side while I moved body after body.

  Kera stood in place and blankly stared off into nothing.

  Queen Mikko sat cross-legged in front of her sister, staring down at her lap. The Queen of Casters neither moved nor spoke. She merely sat where she was in the silence, lost in her own tortured despair for what needed to be done.

  King Athon placed four caster guards down in the line we had made of the dead, his eyes also swinging to the caster queen. His nostrils flared, and he rumbled quietly, “This will be the hardest day she has faced so far as a ruler.”

  “I do not envy her, that is for certain.” I peered over at him, watching him closely. “Shifter, I do not know what you are doing with my king, but I do not like it.”

  The King of Shifters looked up at me from under his lashes, solidly holding my gaze. He spoke slowly, “You attacked me yesterday, and I have not retaliated in kind. It’s become obvious to the other rulers that you and I are more than enemies. Such as right now. Queen Alora and King Elon are watching us.”

  I scratched at my cheek and peeked out of the corner of my eye to the two rulers that were working together on a body.

  They were staring at us.

  I sniffed. “What does that have to do with my king?”

  “I am trying to fix the mess you created.” He growled.

  I walked in the direction of the last dead guard I needed to retrieve. “You are trying to pretend that we are…friendly?”

  King Athon headed in the other direction. “Yes, elf. You fucked up, and now we have to deal with the consequences. This is the best option available to us.”

  I huffed in aggravation—at my own blunders—and grabbed the ankles of the dead. I had truly fucked up. I trudged backward with my heavy haul, resting the body into the row of victims, placing my hands on my knees to catch my breath.

  Abruptly, the air started to warm.

  Heaving in large lungs full of hot air, I turned my eyes to the tree. It was beginning to burn from the inside out, the cracks in the bark turning a brilliant orange.

  I raced forward, shouting a warning, “Run!”

  Three bodies wouldn’t be saved today.

  Queen Alora, King Elon, and King Athon turned and sprinted away from the tree…right before it exploded into a firestorm that I’d never faced before.

  “Shit!” I gasped, throwing out my hands.

  I gritted my teeth and braced my legs against the fiery blast, my hair flying back in the scalding air. My hands violently shook as I pulled the fire in my direction, snuffing out as many flames as I could—my father’s royal firepower so great I couldn’t control it all, only managing to capture the fire surrounding the tree.

  A hard body plowed into mine, knocking me off my feet. I grunted as strong arms enfolded me, protecting me from the fall, my hands still extended as we hit the ground. I stared at the flames, keeping my eyes on my work as a massive tree limb slammed down onto the grass beside us.

  King Athon lifted his head, growling down on me.

  “Shut up, shifter,” I whispered, sweat starting to pour down my face. “I’m working here if you haven’t noticed.”

  “Fucking pain in my Fae damned ass,” he hissed, releasing my body and shoving himself off the ground. He flashed his tiger fangs, his claws slicing out. “You can’t work if you’re dead. Get up and watch your surroundings this time, elf.”

  I struggled to sit up, my body wearing down. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re a Fae damned mess is what you are.” My dratted soul mate grabbed under my arms and yanked me up to my feet. He marched straight forward toward the tree. “Keep the fire away from me, Princess. I’ll get the last three.”

  I bit my bottom lip and concentrated on his position. I pulled the flames away from the dead, watching as the shifter king lifted their scorched bodies into his arms. Fatigue sagged my shoulders. I stumbled to the left.

  Solid hands grabbed my shoulders from behind, keeping me upright, not letting go. The King of Gorgons hissed, “Keep your breathing even, Princess Trixie. It will help you focus—mind and body.”

  Queen Alora stepped beside me. She swiftly pointed. “Burn that before it hits him.”

  I shoved my left hand upward, flames rushing from my palm, scorching a part of the tree down to ash that was falling right at my soul mate. My eyes repeatedly blinked through the stinging sweat running down my face. “Where is King Traevon?” He had yet to reappear.

  “He is still fighting,” Queen Alora stated patiently, staring up into the flames biting high into the sky. “And they are pissing him off.”

  King Athon set the three charred bodies down into the line of the dead and pr
owled to stand on my other side—his eyes assessing the King of Gorgons’ hold on my person. He crossed his arms, turning to stare at the tree, muttering, “You need to eat more, elf.”

  “And breathe better, apparently.” My body began to tremble, my hands visibly shaking in front of me. “You shouldn’t have eaten all my food last night.”

  He stood silent for a moment. Then he grunted.

  The King of Elves stepped out of the burning tree.

  His body was ablaze. The two blades in his hands glowed with fire. Flames whipped brightly in his eyes. His sneer was terrible, his fangs dripping with blood, as he stalked toward us.

  A cruel elf king after a massacre.

  I sucked in a harsh breath, stepping back and slamming right into the gorgon king, my eyes widening on my face.

  I’d never seen him like this before.

  Queen Alora chuckled softly. “Definitely pissed off.”

  I lowered my hands, allowing my power to fizzle out. Closing my mouth, I erased all expression from my face. I wobbled where I stood, but I brushed the King of Gorgons’ hands off my shoulders.

  I walked forward, hiding all of my exhaustion—and fear. My eyes lifted to my king as I halted in front of him. I asked calmly, “Are you injured?”

  “Nothing I’m unable to heal from.” King Traevon slowly calmed, the flames dying out on his body. He put his blades away. “The tree is Queen Brin. The Queen of Nymphs was fairly upset when I killed her people, especially when she couldn’t seduce me. It became a little heated in there.”

  I stared at the soaring fire. “I would never have guessed, my king.” My attention snapped to the caster queen—she was starting to stand. “We should give her privacy for this.”

  “Correctly so.” King Traevon walked past my person, ignoring me now, stating to the others, “Let us move to the stairs so she doesn’t have an audience too close for her sister’s execution.”

  The rulers and I walked away as the Queen of Casters removed a blade from inside her cloak, holding it behind her back as she began to speak to her sister.