The Time King (The Kings Book 13)

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The Time King (The Kings Book 13) Page 29

by Heather Killough-Walden


  “Lay off the hardware!” she bellowed.

  Across the field, Amunet the Nomad spun around as a groaning sound emitted from her left. William’s gaze skirted to the wooded boundary of the field. Something large rose from behind the tree line. As he watched it rise and spin in the air, William realized Helena was using telekinesis to lift what appeared to be the worn down remains of a mobile home.

  With a cry of rage, the Time Queen sent the destroyed vehicle hurtling over the trees and into the field. It headed straight for the Nomad couple.

  Now Ahriman acted at last. He reached around his petite mate with a long arm and flicked his wrist. The mobile home made a sudden ninety-degree detour, racing toward Helena instead. Once more, disaster rushed at her unchecked and ultra-fast.

  William stepped beneath her, willing the mobile home to again change course. Fortunately it did – but he still wound up catching Helena when the mobile home came close enough that she ducked out of instinct, and the fast, drastic movement caused her to fall from the sky and crash through the branches.

  The vehicle made a second sharp turn and sailed past them to land yards away in a crumpled heap of metal siding, and mold.

  William glanced down at Helena. Her hair was filled with leaves, her cheek was scratched like a tomboy’s and her face was flushed with excitement. Power burned in her pupils like backlit rubies. She was adorable. But now was not the time to show her just how much he thought so.

  He looked back up at the pair of god-like beings at the center of the scorched and now empty field. They seemed to be waiting, both of them still now, even as their fury struck William in continuous waves.

  Then the air split open approximately twenty feet or so to their left – and Damon Chroi and Diana Piper were ejected from a portal that snapped open and shut again with tremendous speed and force. The sovereigns hit the ground and rolled.

  Another slit in the air appeared. And another.

  Within seconds, every King and Queen at the Table of the Thirteen was being spewed out into the burned field like so much garbage. It was bewildering to see men and women of such enormous power actually hitting the ground. Nearly all of them possessed the magic within them to do things like hover above the ground, wrap armor around themselves, use telekinesis to move their own bodies, or even sprout wings. But hit the ground they did, and when they stopped rolling, all Thirteen pairs of leaders were present in the field.

  So was Katrielle the third Nomad.

  She was the only one who hadn’t been tossed about. When the portal containing her and her companions opened up, William saw Roman and Evelynne D’Angelo shoot out first, followed closely by the Winter King and Queen. And then Katrielle stepped calmly from the portal, turned, and allowed it to shut behind her.

  Then she turned her attention on the two standing at the field’s center.

  “It’s good to see you again, Amunet,” said Katrielle.

  The fact was, Nomads didn’t lie. William wasn’t sure whether this was because they honestly couldn’t – or because they were so old and powerful, they didn’t care either way and this was an easy way to excuse the bad behavior that telling the truth usually turned out to be.

  But he knew that when she said this to Amunet, she meant it. They were sisters, after all. William had only possessed a cousin for a very short while… that was also a lifetime… but he would give a lot to be able to see Liam again.

  Amunet cocked her blonde head to the side and narrowed her gaze on her sister. “Is it? Even though I’ve brought you all here to destroy you?”

  Katrielle shook her head. “Then you’re a fool, Amunet.” She turned away from her sister and walked through the field, watching as each of the sovereign couples got to their feet. William and Helena stepped forward. William noticed Helena still held her father’s gun. She’d managed to hold onto it through the tree climbing and everything. As a warden, she was probably used to doing things like that.

  As Kat made her way in a circle around Ahriman and Amunet, the Thirteen Kings and Queens moved in, effectively surrounding the powerful Nomads.

  “Do you truly not know?” Katrielle asked, once more stopping before her sister and her sister’s evil mate. “About the vision?”

  Amunet sneered. “Bitch,” she said, her expression one of surprised disgust. “Of course I know about your stupid vision. Let me see if I can sum it up for you.” She pretended to clear her throat, lifted her hand to her chest as if she were touching her heart in a vision, and affected a holier-than-thou voice that rang out through the field. “Only the Thirteen Queens can defeat the terrible evil on the chessboard!” She lowered her arm and tilted her head. “Did I get it about right?”

  Katrielle was taken aback. William could feel her confusion even at a distance. “Then why would you bring them here together?” she asked. “When you are down by two, no less.”

  But Amunet gave a short, contemptuous laugh. Behind her, Ahriman closed his eyes and slowly lifted his arms at his sides. “Little sis, we’re not down by two.” Amunet said, shaking her head. “We’re up by two-hundred.”

  That was when William heard them. That was when he sensed them.

  “Oh my God,” whispered Helena, her deep ruby gaze on the tree line around the field. It moved as branches made way for large bodies. “The Night Terrors.” They were coming out of the forest all around them, every manner of beast, every kind of monster, creeping en masse into the field where good faced off with evil.

  Ahriman had called them here. Evil it would seem, had help.

  Chapter Fifty-two

  We left the door open, she realized.

  All this time, they’d been concentrating on the wrong things. They’d been focused on the changes occurring when the worlds collided and they’d been focused on Cain. But what they should have been remembering was that before any of this had happened, Helena had used her power to stop Time in the alternate dimension.

  And opened the door to the Dark World.

  Now there were just over two dozen strangers in the field who’d apparently been transported there unwillingly, and there were monsters surrounding them a good quarter-acre deep in every direction around the edges of the field.

  It would have taken her full days to sit down and describe the multitude and myriad of monsters that inhabited the realm she went to in that cursed sleep. There were fae, both Seelie and Unseelie, there were hybrids and dires, there were nightmarish conglomerates of a person’s worst fears, and there were the same run-of-the-mill supernaturals that she found as a warden in the waking world, such as vampires and werewolves.

  In the Dark World there were eight-foot-tall beasts with extremely soft rainbow colored fur but mouths filled with rows of razor teeth and claws of chipped black stone that sliced an opponent to ribbons without trying. They had eyes the same iridescent white as the walls of a transportation portal and they were called Fearfells.

  There were floating, tendril-wrapped clouds of purple gas called Cantorips, but in slang terms referred to as Sleepmists. If they managed to wrap an incorporeal tendril around you, it would slice into your flesh despite its gaseous state, and infuse your system with its slow-acting poison. It hurt. And when it made it to your heart, you would lose consciousness. The Cantorip would then proceed to envelop you and slowly absorb your vitality until you were in a coma.

  The most beautiful or visibly impressive of the Dark World monsters were inarguably the Alacans. These magnificent beasts were equines the size of draft horses, replete with the furry legs of Clydesdales. Their eyes were bright burning yellow like the sun, and their fur was either jet black, snow white, or slate gray.

  Then there were the massive wings, which against all reason were literally composed of not feathers, but flower petals or leaves. The petals and leaves were resistant to damage, holding up against wind and wear, but as soft and malleable as actual flower petals and leaves. They came in a rainbow of colors that shifted from one end of each seven-foot wing to the other and gave
every Alacan a unique but ultimately pleasant fragrance.

  Some smelled like springtime. There were even Alacan scents specific to certain blooms such as roses, cherry blossoms, or lavender. And some smelled like autumn, their orange-to-yellow plumage reminiscent of cinnamon, apple trees, and pumpkin patches.

  These same flower petals or leaves composed an Alacan tail, thick and full, long and luxurious. It was a proud Alacan's most prized possession, despite the magnificence of their wings.

  The one thing all Alacans had in common was their horn. The Alacan horn was two feet long, wound in a spiral of crystalline deep blood red, and was composed of pure gemstone similar to garnet or ruby. Most significant of all was that the horn was as sharp as razor blades.

  There were countless tales in the Dark World of how the beauty of the Alacan had lured a victim in only to leave it impaled on the beast’s horn without warning. They were unpredictable and rumored to be apathetic. But that was an Unseelie fae for you.

  The Peyton was an amber colored stag with shining fur, griffon-like wings, antlers with jagged edges like knives, and feathers cascading in more long, luxurious tails. As far as griffins were concerned, there were those in the DW too. But the Dark World’s griffons were all black, and rather than half eagle, half lion, they were half vulture, half dire dog. They were enormous and terrifying, giving off an aura of fear that kept would-be thieves away from their finds or kills.

  There were so many beasts in the alternate dimension, both kind and unkind. And there were so many monsters in the Dark World. As Helena’s gaze skirted the outline of the trees around the field, she realized the creatures gathered there were a mix of both. Good and bad. Animal and monster.

  What she didn’t see any sign of were the ones she simply called the Terrors.

  But Helena didn’t want to think about those. She’d never come up with another name for them, and as far as she knew there was no other name for the monster. She was the only person she had ever heard of who’d come face to face with one and lived to tell about it.

  Right now, these beasts and a host of others she had never even encountered during her time as warden gathered in thick droves around the outskirts of the field and stayed there. As if waiting.

  At the center of the field, the man called Ahriman remained as he was, arms out, eyes closed. Even from where she stood, Helena could feel that man’s power. It was immense, almost stifling. The women beside him felt no less powerful. The blonde was Amunet. Cain’s mother. And then there was a redheaded woman who was apparently her sister.

  Amunet turned to Helena, bypassing her “sister” to slowly walk toward the new Time Queen. “So tell me, Miss Dawn,” she said, “how are you liking your stint as sovereign so far?”

  Helena’s chest pounded. The closer Amunet got, the thicker the air and the harder it was to breathe. William tried to nudge her behind him again, but she wouldn’t let him. Something in her reared its stubborn head again, and she stood her ground, staring the woman down.

  “Because I hope you know it’s a difficult job,” continued Amunet. “These men and women aren’t welcoming you into their fold out of love. Not like I would have.” She shook her head. “They’re doing so because they need you. They think you’re the final piece to their evil-killing puzzle.” She glanced over her shoulder at the others as she continued to walk. “Isn’t that right?”

  But no one said anything. So she turned back to Helena.

  “You see, some of your new friends are seers, like my sister Katrielle,” Amunet continued. “And those seers claim they’ve beheld a prophecy.” She laughed. “That only Thirteen Queens can defeat us.” She shrugged. “I don’t know how fast you can count, but without you, they’re only a dozen. You, my dear, are lucky number thirteen.”

  She stopped about ten feet away, and Helena could see the slowly burning fire of hatred at the center of her honey colored eyes. “You destroyed my family to be a part of these people,” she told Helena with a sweeping gesture of her arm to indicate the other couples on the field. “And you don’t even know who they are, do you?”

  Helena blinked. She was well past confused. She’d sped by confused going two hundred miles an hour at least thirty miles ago. And now she also suddenly felt very out of place. Amunet had her on this one. She didn’t know who anyone here was. Except William.

  “Allow me to introduce you to your new teammates,” said Amunet, turning away from her as if she had all the time in the world to stall the monsters and hold the fight at bay. Based on the easy, calm manner in which her male companion controlled the Dark World and other-dimensional beasts at the tree line, Helena was thinking that might be the case.

  “That over there is the Vampire King Roman D’Angelo and his little vampire bride Evelynne,” she said with a smile that was nothing if not mocking. She shot Helena a look. “Believe it or not, D’Angelo is considered the ‘king of kings’ amongst this motley lot.” She laughed derisively. “But there’s no accounting for taste.”

  Roman and Evelynne, for their parts, just watched her in silence.

  Amunet moved a little further away, her attention on the next couple now.

  “That one there is the Goblin King, Damon and that’s his wife Diana. He’s an outcast, and she’s a veterinarian.” She gave the information as if she were reciting lines from a dating show, and the amusement in her tone was palpable.

  She glanced back at Helena briefly. “If you recall, they were the first couple to join us after I sent out my summons. Damon must be so lonely as the Banished One, the two were probably just rearing to be included in something.”

  Damon and Diana did what Roman and Evelynne had done. They watched and remained silent, clearly refusing to be baited with the sabre rattling.

  Amunet moved on. “That is the Phantom King and Queen, Thanatos and Siobhan. If you think her name is hard to pronounce, you should try spelling it,” she joked. “Thane is in charge of the wrongly dead – did I get that right, handsome?”

  Thanatos said nothing. His gaze was silver-white and starkly beautiful, but his handsome face showed no emotion at all.

  Amunet smiled. “I’m betting I’ve kept you busy these last few days.”

  She turned away from him and moved to the next couple. “And these four are the rulers of the Seelie and Unseelie fae realms. This is Avery and Selene. And this is Caliban and Minerva. The fae sisters here are Wishers.” She looked back at Helena. “Do you know what a Wisher is, young Time Queen?”

  Helena of course had no freaking clue what the hell a Wisher was, but the name alone gave her hope. Because if a Wisher was named for what it could do, then maybe they had a chance against all of those monsters after all.

  “Yes, they can grant wishes,” Amunet supplied happily. “But only in anger. Only in revenge.” She turned back to the two women who appeared to Helena to be polar opposites of one another – one with black hair, the other with hair so fair it was white. “You can only exact pain and suffering, isn’t that right?” she cooed as if the two were babies. “But that’s okay, sweethearts. I know how you feel.”

  She looked back at Helena. “As for their husbands,” she shrugged, speaking of the two men behind her as if they weren’t there. “Well they’re Tuathans. Fae known for being fae, basically. They stand around and look beautiful and tough in their layers of glamour, but it’s their wives who pack the punches.”

  She left the four fae and moved on to the next group without a care in the world, and Helena has never, ever felt so bewildered. All she could think was that everyone else in that field was standing there allowing Amunet to go on and on for the same reason she was. They had no idea what else to do.

  After all, if Amunet and her friend were powerful enough to bring all of these kings and queens to the field without their consent, and stronger still in that they controlled the Dark World monsters, what would possibly hurt them? Were they as immortal as William? As un-killable? More so? What else did they control? Did she even want to find o
ut?

  “These two are the Demon sovereigns, if you can wrap your head around that,” said Amunet with a snarky tone. “And not only Demon but Akyri. Now I know what you’re thinking. Or at least I know what you’d be thinking if you knew anything about this world at all. You’d be thinking, ‘Wait, aren’t Akyri and demons the same thing?’ And you’d be right. But Steven – yes, Steven, I know – and Dahlia here rule over not one kingdom, but two. And believe me, the two realms are nothing alike.”

  She left the blond man and dark haired woman and made her unending way to the next couple in the field. “And here we have the Winter Kingdom’s finest, Kristopher Scaul and Poppy Nix. She’s the migraine-suffering, coffee-drinking warlock with a temper, and he’s the formidable former Viking with a chip on his shoulder. Don’t they make a lovely pair?”

  She moved on.

  “Here is the Shadow Kingdom’s darkest inhabitant, Keeran Pitch. Also known as Wolfram. Or Lovelace. Hell, he has more names than a Nomad,” she laughed. “And this is the lovely and shrinking Violet, his wife.” She waved her hand dismissively. “She’s a warlock or something too.”

  She’s more than that, thought Helena. She could sense the inhuman in the beyond beautiful woman named Violet. And it was the same vibration of energy she got off Dahlia, the Demon Queen. It was so similar in fact, Helena couldn’t help but wonder whether these two might be related as well.

  “Here we have the Nightmare King and Queen –” Amunet stopped and glanced again at Helena. “Not your kinds of nightmares, mind you, but pretty grotesque all the same.” She turned and eyed the Nightmare King with obvious approval. “Though I have to admit that in their human forms, they’re pleasing to the eye. It makes sense; Nightmares are actually incubi.”

  Helena couldn’t argue with any of that. They were hot. The Nightmare King could give a ninety-year-old hot flashes.

  “This one’s double the trouble in bed, too,” continued Amunet. “Seeing as how he’s actually two Nightmares in one. Aren’t you Nicholas? Or do you prefer Nero?”

 

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