The Time King (The Kings Book 13)

by Heather Killough-Walden

  This sleep was for good.

  After a moment of absolute silence, Ahriman again stood. William readied himself… but he knew there was no need. He and the ancient Nomad shared something in common, after all. So he knew very well what Ahriman would do long before he did it.

  The Nomad turned to face the vampire who had once been his First Born. Their eyes met, and Ahriman’s dual burning fires slowly went out, leaving his eyes dark and cold.

  In the strange silence that had come over the battlefield, William noticed that Kings and Queens had gathered on the outskirts of the smaller clearing. They were battle worn and filthy, and most of them were injured. But as they looked on, their eyes were devoid of hatred or fury. There was only quiet comprehension.

  The multiverse slowed again, knowing this was momentous. Its children moved upon the chessboard of existence, and one final knight took one final king.

  Checkmate.

  Ahriman nodded at his former son. Just once.

  Cain again raised the gun. He aimed, his finger squeezed, and the cylinder’s last bullet left the chamber.

  When the mighty Nomad hit the ground, he landed beside Amunet. Their hands were almost touching.

  William’s gaze trailed to the clearing’s edge, where he found Katrielle standing solemn and silent, looking down at the infamous – and infinite – couple. The last remaining full blooded Nomad moved further into the clearing until she knelt quietly beside her sister.

  Then she took the hands of the two fallen Nomads in hers and placed them gently together.

  Chapter Sixty-two

  “We managed to get the door closed,” said Jason Alberich where he sat in his place at the Table of the Thirteen. There were twenty-six people at the table now, but as there would always be, there were twenty-seven chairs. The last was reserved for the old witch. For when she popped in unannounced, as she was wont to do.

  The others at the table nodded approvingly, but Helena could tell a lot of them were wondering how that had been managed. Many of them had tried to do it after Amunet and Ahriman were taken out, and they’d failed. The monsters from the Dark World had continued to pour into their dimension.

  Roman D’Angelo spoke up. “It took magic users from both worlds, ours and the alternate dimension, to get it done,” he explained as if he also knew they were curious. “Fortunately there were a few powerful beings from said realm more than willing to help seal the exit back up. For the right price.”

  Helena knew exactly who the Vampire King was referring to when he said that. But she kept her secret smile to herself.

  “In the meantime, we have a lot of escaped trouble to deal with, but we have wardens now to help with that.”

  “Yeah, that’s a trip, isn’t it?” said one of the Queens. There was a small round of agreement. “There’s a whole new infrastructure to learn and get used to.”

  “Yeah, but we can hire someone else to do a lot of our legwork for us now,” said someone else. “Wardens work for the Kings and Queens. How cool is that?”

  “Very,” said someone else. “And these sentinels of theirs are pretty cool too. We have an entire new race of healers to rely on.”

  “In a manner of speaking,” said William. “But really, the sentinels are for their wardens only. They’re guardians of sorts, the way shifters sometimes have.” He nodded at Samantha O’Neill where she sat in her place at the Table. She nodded back in understanding.

  “We’ll get used to it,” said D’Angelo. “And of course we’re going to have to do some rebuilding,” he continued. Apparently Amunet and Ahriman had completely destroyed the homes of every last one of the Kings and Queens, and done quite a bit of damage to some of their surrounding property as well. But fortunately, not many were harmed in the process. The small fire elemental anime known as Pi would have been buried beneath the rubble of the Phantom King’s home, but he’d simply left the hearth and taken up residence in a fire elsewhere in the realm until the coast was clear.

  Just as fortunately, very little of the destruction had made it into the mortal realm. What little did amounted to small earthquakes, a few forest fires, and several hurricanes.

  And of course the rogue, bizarre traffic accidents. But those were due to gas leaks. The news stations were very quick to assure everyone of as much.

  Helena thought of the news stations, which made her think of newspaper headlines, and she absently touched her stomach again in memory.

  Then the Vampire King addressed her. “And our last order of business,” he said, his tone changing. Everyone at the table straightened. “Helena Dawn, welcome to the Table of the Thirteen.”

  Helena blushed. She couldn’t help it. A round of applause went up around the table – but when it slowed, someone spoke up. “Yeah, I’m definitely thinking it should be changed to Twenty-Six.”

  “Twenty-Seven,” said Katrielle, who suddenly appeared in her especially saved seat.

  Helena glanced at the redheaded Nomad. Katrielle met her gaze and winked.

  “That just doesn’t have the same ring to it though,” said someone else at the Table.

  “Then it’s decided,” said Roman teasingly. “Thirteen it shall remain.”

  That was fine with Helena. At the Table of the Thirteen sat thirteen realms, each ruled over by good, powerful, and just sovereigns. That’s what the number stood for now. And it was a lucky number anyway.

  At least, it sure as hell seemed to be for her.

  Chapter Sixty-three

  She was doing it again. This was the sixth time she’d absently brushed her fingers across her abdomen in the last two days. She didn’t think he noticed.

  But of course he did.

  The first time she did it, he’d acted immediately, reaching out with his power to detect any sign that there might be a little bit of extra magic there than before. But he’d sensed nothing. And now, when he did it again, he sensed the same.

  He was confused. But… he was also very old. And he knew that trauma and loss took their tolls on people in different manners. In a way, Helena had never been given the chance to grieve the loss of her child in 1918. She’d gone a hundred years without existing at all, and then she’d appeared to exist as an entirely different person in an entirely different dimension.

  Maybe she was making up for it, if even subconsciously.

  William’s gaze skirted back to her face. She was smiling and nodding at something that Diana Piper had said where she, Diana, Violet Kellen, and Evangeline stood in the corner of the Shadow Kingdom home they were helping Keeran Pitch rebuild. They worked well together. In fact, Helena seemed to work well with all of the Queens. He watched their faces light up when she appeared on the scene or joined them in an activity. But he wasn’t at all surprised there.

  She was still Helena. The happy ending.

  He smiled to himself and looked down at the watch he still held open. There were two of these watches now. William had found this one in his suit pocket that morning. It was identical to Helena’s.

  The worlds inside clicked and slid, moving the mechanisms of all that transpired in the multiverse. He took note of the Time and closed the watch with a click.

  Across the room, Helena turned toward him, catching his gaze. Her maroon colored eyes sparkled. She smiled. Ready to go? she asked.

  He nodded, returning her smile.

  “We’ll see you guys there,” Helena said softly, speaking to her companions. The Queens nodded and smiled in a way that William found strangely secretive. But maybe he was just tired. Did a Time King get tired? He gave himself a mental shake and met his Queen half-way across the room, offering her his elbow like the gentleman that he was.

  She gratefully slid her arm through it, and he placed his hand over hers. Then he blinked them out of the Shadow Kingdom.

  When they arrived at Hunger a half hour later, it seemed every single sovereign of the realms was there. William was surprised. He’d known they were going to meet with a few of them for drinks, but –
all of them?

  They need a break too, he told himself firmly. But in truth, he was admittedly a little irritated with how well accepted Helena was. Maybe this was because she wasn’t just accepted by the Queens, but their husbands too. Not one of those men even bothered to try hide their excitement when she paid them heed. It was particularly grating when Nicholas Wargrave had her attention. Or Damon Chroi. Or Caliban.

  Hell, frankly they were all getting on his nerves. Just a little.

  But – William was wise enough to know that fondness was better than nothing, and in the end, he was grateful that Helena was fitting in so well. The fact was, it was forcing him to become more social as well.

  Before she’d come along, he’d more or less kept to himself. He was solitary. He liked it that way. And he knew that some of the sovereigns had considered him even a little… frightening. For a while, the idiots had thought he was the Traitor.

  He smiled at the thought.

  So this was good. Irritating, but good.

  William accepted the beer that was thrust into his hand and thanked whoever had just given it to him. The club was absolutely packed. Music throbbed and dancers writhed, and it seemed everyone he’d ever known was milling around him. The moment they arrived, Helena ducked away somewhere to be with new friends, and William was pulled to the bar by others.

  He found a seat, looked down at his beer, and then looked up at the bartender.

  “Lucky!”

  The leprechaun grinned at him, not missing a beat as he deftly poured some complicated concoction from several containers into several others.

  “What are you doing here?” William asked.

  “Temporary job!” said Lucky over the pulse of the music. “Openin’ mae own bar not far from here! Yae’ll have tae come see it soon!”

  William could just imagine. He thought of Lucky’s tavern on that secret, secluded and magically protected Louisiana road in the other dimension and wondered whether this new one would be similar in design. Would it also be just “off the map” so to speak?

  William nodded and said, “It’s a deal.” He took a long pull from his beer and set it back down to scan the crowd. That was when a busty redheaded woman that William well recognized traipsed up to him and handed him a folded note.

  “I was given a message for you, sweetie,” Destiny beamed. Lucky’s fae niece looked as vibrant as ever in a tank top, shorts, and bright red curls.

  William was too caught up in the moment and the memories to give the note proper thought when he nodded his thanks and turned back around to the bar. He took another long swig of his beer and unfolded the note to read.

  Can you taste the colloidal silver in this one?

  William blinked.

  “You’re a slow learner, Cuz,” laughed a friendly and familiar voice behind him. William blinked again. He still couldn’t process what he was hearing.

  “I think he thinks he’s dreaming,” came another familiar voice, almost as surprising as the first.

  Finally, William managed to put the note on the bar and slowly turn around. Liam Slate beamed down at him, his shit-eating grin as disarming as ever. Beside him stood Ashrim, the sentinel.

  Ashrim’s presence, William could more or less comprehend. Ash was a sentinel, and the wardens and sentinels had made it into the new world in one piece. He was probably here because Helena was here, and technically she was still his warden.

  But… Liam?

  It simply wasn’t possible.

  “I know, right?” said Liam as if he knew exactly what William was thinking. But then his cousin leaned in and said, “Time is funny that way.”

  When he straightened again, Will found himself shoving off the stool and grabbing his cousin in a firm hug. Liam laughed, hugging him back, and Ashrim patted William hard on the back. William held on tight. He could not have described the feeling he had in that moment. It was like… having everything.

  He had Helena. They’d defeated their enemies. And he even had a family.

  It didn’t get better than this.

  Slowly, he let go of his cousin and shook his head. “I can’t believe this,” he said breathlessly and honestly.

  But Liam cupped his face and nodded. “I know man.” William could see the overwhelmed emotions in Liam’s face as well, and he realized that Liam not only existed when he shouldn’t, he seemed to have all of the knowledge that he shouldn’t, too. Like a King or a Nomad.

  That’s because he is a King, said Time. More or less.

  William digested that. When it was simply too much to digest, he just gave up and shook his head again. “Glad to have you here, Liam.”

  Liam shrugged sheepishly, then raised his finger as he seemed to remember something. “Helena asked me to give you this.” He took something out of the inside pocket of his leather jacket and handed it to William.

  It was a small jewelry box. William took it from him and looked at it suspiciously. He glanced back up at his cousin.

  “Don’t ask me,” said Liam. “She’s your Queen.”

  William found himself grinning at that, and as he chuckled, he opened the box. A pocket watch rested inside. It was gold and intricate and it was an exact duplicate to his own. William frowned at it. “Why would she give me her watch?” he asked aloud.

  “It’s not hers,” said Ashrim with a secret smile and glittering eyes.

  William thought fast and pulled his own watch out of the inner pocket of his jacket. “But it’s not mine either,” he said.

  “Will,” said Liam, getting his attention. “Turn the note over and read the other side.” He nodded at the note William had unfolded and left on the bar. All around him, the club seemed to grow quieter. The music lulled, and people stopped talking. William reached out and turned the note over. Then he read.

  By the way, you’re going to be a dad, you lucky bastard.

  William stared at the words in a nearly blind state of dumbfounded shock. He ran them through his head again. And then again. He looked down at the watches in his hands. Three pocket watches.

  For three people.

  “I wonder how bloody spoiled the freaking Prince of Time is going to be?” said a voice with a British accent. William glanced over, his gaze barely registering what he was seeing. Darryl Maelstrom grinned down at him.

  And beyond Maelstrom, the sentinel Fortescu held up a beer for a toast. “To the Time Prince!” he called out.

  All around the club, the revelers cheered in unison. The sound was deafening, but William didn’t really hear it. Instead, he heard a heartbeat. And across the room, Helena Dawn caught his gaze. She smiled at him and touched her stomach.

  His name is Will, she told him. It always was.

  Will… Billy, thought William. He saw a boy with wavy hair and big, shining eyes. A boy he’d always thought he was imagining. But now he knew he hadn’t been. The boy had been real. Reaching for him through Time.

  He never died, William, Helena told him from across the room as men patted him on the back and beer bottles were clinked together and the music once again blared and no one seemed to notice that the two of them were locked together from a distance as she spoke into his mind and touched his heart.

  When I knew I had to leave a century ago, I reached out to Time, she told her husband as she slowly moved toward him. And it heard me.

  The crowd parted before William as he steadily strode to join her, faces and bodies laughing and dancing, but somehow knowing he needed through.

  In his mind, Helena went on. Time took our son and kept him safe, she told him.

  Then Helena stood before him, and she was reaching for his hand. She took the watch out of his palm, slipped it into his pocket, then placed his hand to her stomach.

  The sound of the heartbeat grew louder. William stopped breathing. His heart wrenched in place in his chest. Helena laughed softly.

  “You have no idea how hard it was for me to hide his presence from you until now,” she told him.

  She ha
d help, said Time.

  William was speechless. He was breathless. His happiness, his unbelievable joy, swelled so thick and so full so fast, it felt like it might kill him.

  “And now he’s back,” she told him. “All is as it should be.”

  And it’s about time.

  Epilogue

  From the corner of the very packed bar, the man with blond hair and blue eyes watched a round of drinks and toasts go up for the new parents-to-be. Cain took a long, slow drink of his beer and considered the couple. The woman was beautiful to everyone. But he knew her beauty better than most.

  The man who was chosen by Time bent over the woman’s smaller form and kissed her with desperate, hard passion – and infinite tenderness.

  Cain finished off his beer, slid a bill under the bottle for a tip, and stood, grabbing his jacket from the booth as he left the bar.

  They were waiting for him when he came out. There were twelve of them, so they’d taken to jokingly referring to themselves as his apostles. Right now, they rested against their bikes, their legs crossed at the ankles, strong arms over thick chests. They all wore the same jacket. And every jacket had the same patch.

  One of the men nodded at him. “We good?”

  Cain slid his own jacket on and gracefully mounted his bike, kicking the stand in as he settled into the saddle. He thought about things for a minute before he finally smiled, flashing the tiniest bit of fang. “Yeah,” he said. “We’re good.”

  His men mounted up, and soon the parking lot was filled with the roar of thirteen V-twin engines rumbling like collective thunder. Cain kicked his bike in gear and carefully left the lot. The others followed after him.

  On the backs of their black leather jackets, white skulls stared open-mouthed at an unseen angry sky as if it were splitting open to let something frightening in. And the single word scrawled in white above the skulls told everyone just what that was: Monsters.