King of the Flame

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King of the Flame Page 19

by Elizabeth Frost


  “It’s going to cave in on our heads.”

  “I can tell, Lazarus,” she hissed. “Now shut up and let me think.”

  If she drew him to the side, then maybe she could save them all. All she had to do was get him to focus on her and no one else. Which should be easy enough, considering she was the one he was hunting. And she was the one who had apparently torn out his heart.

  Lazarus spoke out of the side of his mouth, “You have those extra powers, don’t you?”

  Damn it, why did she keep forgetting she could do so much more than before? Her powers were infinite at this point, she still hadn’t used up all the magic in his blood. Teleportation was an option, but he might kill everyone before searching for her first.

  Bats it was.

  Lilith pictured her body fracturing into a hundred separate parts. She burst so quickly into a swarm of bats it took her a moment to figure out how to control them all. Once she figured it out though, she shot toward Drake with the force of a hammer.

  He threw up a wall of flames, but she blasted through it with little thought. If he assumed fire would stop her, then he didn’t understand the depth of her guilt. These vampires deserved to live and just because she had forsaken them didn’t mean they would suffer her punishment.

  Some of her bat wings were on fire. They fell from the air, but it didn’t feel like he’d hurt her. It just felt like she had cut her hair after growing it for years. Insignificant, but sad all the same.

  She slapped her wings against his face and shoulders, drawing his attention away from the vampires. And when she was certain he had no choice but to follow her, she blasted through the doorway he’d busted open and out into the night. She flew as fast as she could into the field beyond, knowing he would follow her.

  Drake had no choice. Just as she had no choice in attempting to kill him one last time.

  All her bats came back together into her human form. She stumbled once, twice, then fell onto her knees.

  The magic she’d stolen from him was waning. Lilith wouldn’t have many more chances to kill him or use her powers. Even though she didn’t know how to kill him when she was just a vampiress.

  “You aren’t alone yet,” a voice murmured in her mind.

  Something formed between her fingers. A cold hilt and dripping magic pressed against her palm, still hungry even though it had feasted already. The blade.

  Did Flint still believe this knife could kill the king? She lifted it up to the moonlight and wondered just what this could do. Plunging it into Drake’s heart had done nothing at all.

  It seemed like the knife glowed with an internal light. The blade whispered in her mind, “You’ve been a vampire for too long. Stakes won’t kill him, but beheading him would.”

  Could she?

  Lilith wasn’t a murderer. Well, maybe she was in the human opinion. But all she knew how to do was finish her plate, not to take someone’s head off with a knife this large. She wasn’t a warrior, even in her previous life.

  Flames burst in a circle around her. The rushing pulse of magic and heat touched her face and hands.

  Drake strode toward her. His hands were loose at his sides with streams of fire burning through the field from his fingertips. Waves of wheat turned red and died. He stared at her with so much hate it made her heart hurt.

  He reached for her, only to stop about ten feet away. She thought maybe he was angry. Or maybe he was sad.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “I’ve already told you why,” she whispered, still on her knees.

  “Your answer isn’t good enough. I don’t believe you would kill me just to save the humans. You don’t care for anyone but yourself. It’s what I adored about you.” His hands were shaking, the fires spewing from his fingers in showers of sparks. “There has to be another reason.”

  Lilith wanted to tell him there was. She regretted trying to kill him, but she couldn’t regret it at the same time. “The humans deserve to live. This is their realm, their world. And as much as I want to see them all on a platter to consume, that is not my choice.”

  The flames screamed. “Then you will burn with them.”

  She ducked her head and knew there was nothing she could do. He’d trapped her in this circle and she was too weak to escape it. The knife in her hand screamed for victory, but the best she could do was bury it in her own chest so she didn’t have to suffer.

  She was too much of a coward to do even that.

  Lilith bent her head and felt heat on her skin for the first time in centuries. The fires licked up her arms, tangled in her hair, coiled around her throat and face.

  She accepted death after all these years. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to rest.

  Except death did not come for her. The fire never turned into pain. Just a warm heat, both comforting and unnerving.

  Lilith opened her eyes and stared down at her hands in the very coals of the flames. Her fingertips glowed gold and veins of red pulsed through her arms, spreading in rivers through her entire body.

  The last remnants of his magic. Saving her from himself.

  This was a sign. She needed to get up because he didn’t want to kill her. Just as she didn’t want to kill him.

  Flint was wrong. There was another way.

  Lilith stood with the knife clenched between her fingers. She walked through the fire that grasped at her limbs and tried to tug her back into the inferno. It failed. She strode all the way to Drake’s side where she stood in front of him, strong and proud.

  Though his eyes were wide in shock, he didn’t immediately give in. Drake reached out and wrapped his hand around her throat, just like he had all those months ago when she’d first met him. He squeezed, and she felt the burning around her neck where his magic poured into her body.

  The golden veins glowed brighter. He stared at them with equal parts horror and awe.

  Lilith lifted her hand and pressed the blade against his throat. Not digging it into his flesh, just resting it against the rapidly beating pulse. His heartbeat pressed against the cold blade that screamed for her to press deeper. She didn’t.

  “Now we can both kill each other,” she whispered. “Fair ground, Drake. Do you want to see me dead or not?”

  His eyes were watery. “No, I don’t want to see you dead. But if you try to kill me, I will do the same to you.”

  “I don’t want to kill you. How many times do I have to say that? I don’t want you dead, but I don’t want the humans dead either.” She swallowed hard. “And I’m willing to die for them.”

  He shook his head, sliding his neck against the knife. “Kill me now, Lilith. Sever my head from my body and your desires will be met. All you have to do is take what you want. That’s all I’ve ever thought you capable of. Take it and feel no remorse.”

  Her own eyes watered and tears spilled over her cheeks. “Don’t you see? I love you, Drake. Not the King of the Flame, not the Bringer of Death, just you. A world without you would be barren and cold. The price I would have to pay to save this realm is greater than losing my own life.”

  Drake’s eyes widened with every word. “You love me?”

  “I thought that was rather obvious, you fool.” She shifted her grip on her knife, holding it steady even though her hand wanted to shake. “It’s up to you now, my love. But if you let me live, then you must step away from this madness. Leave this realm alone and together, we will retreat into the one you have built.”

  “You’d do that for me?”

  Another tear slid down her cheek. “Yes. Yes, a thousand times yes. I love the Autumn Court just as much as you. Every dark and dangerous bit of it.”

  Slowly, his hand relaxed. Drake released each finger until his hand finally fell back to his side. “Then perhaps we should return.”

  “Without destroying the human realm?”

  “It will survive as long as you survive.” He bowed his head. “You have my vow, and a faerie deal is binding.”

  She dropped the knife onto t
he ground and threw herself into his arms. Lips pressed against his neck, she muttered, “If you ever try to kill me again, I will bury that blade so deep in your chest, you’ll never get it back out. Do you hear me?”

  Drake chuckled and held her close to his body. “I do, Lilith. I hear you, love of my soul.”

  27

  Drake bent down and pressed his hand against the top of the lava. Though still firm and solid, the lakes had eased in their anger. Now, the lava clung to his fingertips like honey.

  “Good morning,” he murmured, stroking the lazy lake as he eased it awake. “Time to do some work.”

  The lava hummed in response. He loved the deep burble of its happiness as the lake woke and burned the refuse from the kingdom. Sometimes it was bodies, other times it was old sheets, whatever they needed the lake to do.

  This time, he wanted to remove the last vestiges of his trophy room. Head after head burned in the lava, disappearing beneath the surface. Whatever magic was left would be absorbed into the lava lake.

  Once upon a time, he might have felt upset seeing all his trophies disappearing from sight. Now, all he could feel was liberation.

  The gravel path crunched as Lilith made her way down to the lake. She held a head in her arms, the last one from the place where they’d first met.

  She heaved a breath and swung the head up in her arms to look it in the eye. “Are you sure you want to get rid of them all?”

  “Yes.” He put his hands on his hips. “Are you of a differing opinion, Lady of Flame?”

  Drake loved calling her that. Even though she refused to allow anyone else to do so. She’d have to get used to the title if she wanted to help him rule.

  She shifted the head to look at him, and he realized it was the elf. Hadn’t she looked at the creature strangely when he’d let her out of the trophy room? Like she’d been speaking with the monster?

  “We have a past,” she explained. “He’s the one who convinced me to trick you.”

  “And do what?”

  She shrugged. “Try to make friends with a fire faerie and escape that way.”

  Drake pressed his lips together so he didn’t laugh. “How’d that work out for you?”

  “Not very well, actually. The servants in your court aren’t nice.” She turned the head back to face herself and frowned. “On second thought, it was horrible advice.”

  “Sounds like it.” Drake crossed his arms over his chest. “So are we keeping that one then?”

  She shrugged. “Guess not. He gives poor advice.”

  Lilith flexed her impressive arms and chucked the head out into the lake of lava. A syrupy arm stretched out of the lake before the head hit the surface, and caught it like a baseball.

  Drake watched with amusement as his child gurgled its pleasure. Apparently there had been quite a bit of magic left in the elf’s head. The lake was more than pleased to get rid of his remains.

  “Are you staying out there all day?” Lilith called out.

  He had intended to spend most of his working day on the lake, yes. Power needed to be fed into the streams so they’d remain alive and well.

  “Do you have a better option?” he asked.

  If she wanted to feast upon him again, then he had no argument to stand on. Drake still loved it when Lilith got hungry. She always tried to hold herself too long and then the result was... delicious. For both of them.

  As it was, he’d fed her just a few days ago. He could see the veins of red and gold decorating her skin like jewelry from where he stood. She couldn’t be hungry. Well, at least for blood.

  She rolled her eyes. “No, you foolish man. I just wanted to know if I should come out there and get you.”

  “You could try.”

  So many things had changed since they were first introduced. He remembered her as the angry vampiress who had been captured when that was the last thing anyone had ever done to her. But now he also saw her as the Lady of Flame. The woman who impressed him every day.

  Just as she would now.

  Drake held his breath as she stepped first one foot, then the other on top of the lava lake. Red light wrapped around her legs encased in black leather. It outlined her curvy body and his mouth watered at the sight. She was so beautiful. Too beautiful, really. He couldn’t handle her being here all the time. He was distracted.

  “You’re always distracted now,” the elemental grumped.

  He watched the sway of her hips and the gentle bounce of her hair. “Do you blame me?”

  The elemental stared through his eyes and heaved a longing sigh. “Not one bit.”

  In that, they both agreed. The queen they had chosen was perfection incarnate and neither of them would ever give her up. At least, not willingly.

  Lilith reached his side with a grin on her face. “What were you two talking about?”

  He couldn’t help himself. He reached out and caught her hips in his hands. “You.”

  “All good things I hope.” Lilith wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged him down. She pressed a kiss to his lips that set his very soul on fire. “I only say good things about you,” she whispered against his mouth.

  “What a lie.”

  “Well, we both know you like the taste of whiskey.”

  Correction, he liked the taste of her. But he supposed he could let just one lie slip without punishing her.

  Not too much, at least.

  With a grin, Drake bent down and devoured her mouth with his. He tasted whiskey on her tongue and couldn’t be happier to know he’d spend eternity with her.

  A Sneak Peek into King of the Sea

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  River’s fingers were covered with charcoal, smudged up to the knuckle and staining everything she touched. She spread her fingers wide and sighed. The only difference between her hands and those of a million other people was the webbing.

  River had been born with the webs between her fingers and toes. The membrane glistened in the sunlight sometimes, iridescent and delicate. But the oddity made people uncomfortable sometimes.

  She pressed a charcoal nub to her sketchbook pages and swiped a stroke up and around a rather beloved face. The seal sat who sat a distance away, shifted in his sleep. He was one of the larger males who came and visited this area with his harem of female seals.

  He was also the perfect model. He never moved an inch.

  She scribbled in a corner of the page, trying to ground her drawing. Backgrounds were important, but they were also difficult. She never could portray the hardness of rocks in her portraits. Nor could she make the ocean waves appear to be moving.

  And she wanted to. Desperately. A part of her soul needed to capture the ocean on the page so she could bring it home with her.

  River huffed out an angry breath and stared down at the drawing. Sure, anyone with an untrained eye would say it was pleasing to look at. The seal was nearly picture perfect, although one of his whiskers was comically long. His flippers were soft enough to touch. But it wasn’t good enough.

  She didn’t know if any of her drawings would ever be good enough.

  She closed the sketch book, savoring the knowledge that once she closed the pages, the drawing would be smudged. Ruined, essentially.

  Her art was fleeting.

  And private.

  She tucked her sketchbook back into the bag she always carried with her. River had sewed it herself, back when she thought maybe a sewing machine would capture her artistic abilities. The fabric was made to look like pages of Pride and Prejudice.

  But Mr. Darcy wasn’t a real-life hero. She’d found that out rather quickly the older she got.

  She leaned back on her hands, rocks biting into her palms. She tilted her head back and let the sunlight play across her face. The crash of waves soothed the ache of imperfection, but she couldn’t stay here forever.

  The ocean called to her. It sang a song deep in the currents that crashed upon the shore.

  “Come home, River,” it crooned. “Co
me and bask in the waves.”

  She couldn’t. No one wanted her in the ocean where her mother’s people had come from.

  Well, if anyone believed her father’s ridiculous story about a woman who walked out of the waves with open arms. A woman who had stayed with him for just long enough to birth a child and then warned both him and her only daughter to stay as far away from the ocean as possible.

  Neither she, nor her father, took orders well. He’d bought a house at the edge of the sea, and River liked to visit it as often as possible.

  She just didn’t let the waves touch her. Ever.

  Dad didn’t know she came down here alone. If he did, he’d probably have a heart attack and lock her up in her room forever. Like some kind of fairytale princess.

  He didn’t understand her need to be around the ocean. All he saw was that it could take her away from him, even though he wanted to be close to the waves and the salt spray himself. He said the smell made him think of her mother. And he’d miss her forever.

  River thought that was all rather disgusting. She’d never even met the woman! Not exactly a mother figure anyone wanted, let alone someone a man should spend the rest of his life pining over.

  And he had. Her father had remained single for her entire life.

  It made leaving him rather difficult. He needed someone to take care of the house while he was gone, or at least listen to him when he came home from work. If she wasn’t there, who would help him? Support him? Hell, just be his friend?

  River sighed and rolled to her feet. She curled her bare toes around the rocks and carefully picked her path. The seals wouldn’t look up if she was quiet. Sometimes they complained if she got too loud.

  They were used to her, though. After years coming down here and sketching them, they had an understanding. She’d be quiet. She wouldn’t interrupt their sunbathing. And they let her draw them without barking at her too much.

  Good enough.

  River hopped down onto the sand from the rocky outcropping and heaved her bag over her shoulder.

 

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