The Nightmare King (The Kings Book 11)

by Heather Killough-Walden

  “We’re heading to the Cemetery early,” he said, his words grinding out between clenched teeth. In the kitchen, the sound of shattering glass indicated every champagne flute and porcelain plate had exploded on the shelf.

  “I think that’s a good idea,” said Minnaea.

  “Yeah, let’s get you out of here before you tear the whole goddamn castle down,” said Andros. He paced forward, Minnaea at his side, and took his king by the elbow. His grip was tight. His wife took Nick’s other elbow, and before Nick knew it, there was a portal around them.

  They were handling the travel. He couldn’t blame them. If he took control right now, they’d probably transport directly into the heart of a volcano. Or off the side of a cliff. Or to the bottom of the fucking ocean.

  Where he would proceed to boil the whole planet away.

  His magic was officially back, every single ounce of it, and it would appear that in its absence, it had multiplied like rabbits. Or people. Both of which managed to proliferate like mad.

  “You need to reign it in,” Andros said softly, speaking in his ear. “The world isn’t a great place, I’ll give you that. But there are some good people in it. You don’t want them to die, do you?”

  I want everyone to die, Nick thought darkly.

  Then he blinked. Oh crap. He really was losing control. And if Stephen Lazarus, Damon Chroi, or the Wishers thought their magic was dangerous, they hadn’t seen anything yet.

  Nick closed his eyes as the portal moved around them. He focused on the one thing in the world he actually wanted to see at that moment, and then focused some more until her face was perfectly in view. Adelaide, he told himself. Then he said her name again in his mind. And again.

  Little by little, the monster retreated. Or at least it agreed not to destroy the planet. For now.

  “That’s better,” said Minnaea. “And we’re here.”

  Nick opened stepped out of the portal with his Preceptors by his side. The Cemetery was already occupied. Roman D’Angelo and a handful of others stood waiting for him at the center of the famous circle.

  The Vampire King approached him. “You look like hell,” he told Nicholas. “And that’s saying something, since I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

  Roman had never seen Nicholas’s current form before this moment, so he was right about that. But probably his assessment had more to do with the aura of fury surrounding Nick than his physical appearance. After all, Nicholas Wargrave was a handsome man in a very expensive tailored suit.

  Speaking of the suit.

  He said a few words, and now that it had returned to him fully, his magic responded. Just like that, the suit was gone, and he was once more comfortable in jeans, a black T-shirt, boots, and a leather jacket. The boots were necessary. He planned to lodge one firmly up Nero’s ass within the next forty-eight hours.

  “Feel a little better?” Minnaea asked.

  Nicholas didn’t say anything, but she could tell from the look on his face that he did.

  “Nick, you know Jesse Graves,” Roman said, gesturing to one of the men standing beside him.

  Nick nodded at the man. They were well acquainted. Jesse Graves was the former Overseer of the werewolf council, a job that Graves couldn’t wait to hand off to someone else as soon as he’d been given the chance. Now he was a liaison between the new Overseer and the other supernatural factions.

  Graves nodded back, and Roman went on to introduce the others. “This is Lily Kane, Malcolm Cole, Dannai Caige, and Imani Zareb.” Each introduced person nodded in turn or said “hello.” Nicholas knew of Imani as well. She was the highest ranking witch in the covens, especially now that Lalura Chantelle was dead. Dannai Caige, Nicholas only knew by reputation. Apparently Amunet – the woman the Entity was ultimately after – was Dannai’s mother. She, too, was a werewolf. And there was something else he felt about her, though he couldn’t quite place it.

  Malcolm Cole, Nick had never met before. But he had read his books. They were very detailed. And some were downright gruesome. Nick had often wondered what kind of person would write the books he did.

  Lily Kane was brand new to Nicholas. But her soul looked tasty, strictly incubus speaking. It was beautiful.

  Roman went on. “Lily Kane is a seer. The others are here to lend support however they can, but Lily is here because she had a vision concerning Adelaide.”

  Lily was a young woman with long, thick gold hair and equally golden eyes. Nicholas knew at once that she was not only a seer, but a werewolf. She stepped forward and addressed him, but he noticed that Malcolm Cole stuck close to her side as she did. He, too, was a werewolf, and by the feel of it Nick would guess an alpha. A protective alpha.

  “If Adelaide is the woman I saw in my vision,” Lily said, “Then I think I can tell you where she is right now.”

  Nicholas’s pupils expanded, and his entire being was suddenly focused on the young werewolf. “Where?” he demanded, though he tried to keep the impatience out of his tone. Not only because he didn’t want to be rude, but because he had a feeling Malcolm Cole would take a chunk or two out of him in a fight.

  “Egypt,” she said frankly. “And we haven’t got much time.”

  “Strictly speaking, they’re in the Duat. At least, in the vision they are,” said Dannai Caige, glancing at her friend. Lily smiled and nodded.

  “Right.”

  Dannai was a beautiful soul as well – all of the women here were. “That’s why I’m here,” continued Dannai.

  Nicholas nodded. “Can you get us in?” He knew of the Duat. It was also known as the Land of the Dead. And as such, it was inaccessible by anyone still living. Which, when he considered that Lily had seen Adelaide there, gave him a chill he didn’t care to dignify.

  “I can,” Dannai said. “Since my visit a year ago, I’ve been working on a mass transport spell that can penetrate the border. I think I’ve just managed to perfect it.”

  She was a witch. That was the other thing he’d felt coming off of her. She was a very powerful witch.

  “The thing is… it hasn’t been tested yet in its final stage.” She looked a little apologetic.

  “There’s no better time than the present,” said Nicholas honestly. “And right now, there’s no better test subject than me.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Adelaide stood very, very still in the darkness and tried not to breathe. But this was not the same kind of black she’d just been pulled out of; it was a normal darkness, a simple emptiness devoid of light, and she could tell she wasn’t alone.

  She waited. She held her breath. She waited some more. The silence stretched.

  “Just turn on the light and tell me who the fuck you are,” she finally demanded, her nerves no longer able to take it.

  A soft chuckle preceded the click of a lamp knob, and suddenly there was a soft yellow light in the small room where she stood. Nero, the man who’d spoken to her in the bar of the hotel, sat in a recliner beside a small table where the lamp rested.

  Addie let out a whoosh of breath. She didn’t know why she should feel so relieved, but she did. She just did.

  “Hello Adelaide,” he said in his British accent. His voice sounded a little deeper this time, or perhaps more… hollow. She didn’t know, but it was somehow changed. In fact, as she remained standing in the center of the room and studied him, she realized that it was more than his voice that was changed. But damned if she could put her finger on what exactly it was.

  “Nero,” Addie said. “Right?” She was pretty sure she remembered it right. It was a cryptic part of her psychic ability. Which was hilarious, given that before she’d gained her psychic ability, she couldn’t remember a person’s name for squat. In fact, she had cousins that she actually lived with growing up whose names she couldn’t keep straight.

  “On the money,” he said calmly, pushing himself out of the chair. “I apologize for the dark of the transport.” He moved to the wall and flicked a switch, turning on the overhead l
ights. It was admittedly a relief to be able to see everything around her with clarity. “But I’m afraid the darkness was a necessary component of the spell.”

  “What did you do?” she asked. “Where am I? And why am I here?” She asked the questions as her eyes darted around the room, searching for something she could use as a weapon. And for a paper bag she could maybe breathe into.

  The flashes she’d had the first time she’d brushed past him were coming back, reminding her. Crosses. Wars and battles. Death.

  And yet he seemed a polar opposite to the chaos of the images. He was still wearing the suit he’d worn earlier that day, and now he slid his hands into his pockets. It was a deliberate gesture, and she knew it was meant to put Adelaide at ease. Hands in pockets couldn’t be used against you.

  It helped just a little.

  “Alright, then,” he said as if coming to a decision. “I cast a spell to pull you out of the Nightmare King’s castle and bring you here,” he told her plainly. “As to where you are, you’re in my office on the thirty-seventh floor of the Columbian Center in Seattle. As to why….” He looked down at the floor and paced slowly toward her. “I need your help, Adelaide,” he said, looking back up and into her eyes.

  Addie stood her ground and stared back. For the life of her, despite the strange, static-like feel of the aura around him, despite the visions, despite the difference she felt in him, and regardless of the fact that he’d actually pulled her away from someone and somewhere else without her permission, she had to admit that he seemed genuine.

  “My help with what?” she asked, flummoxed. How the hell could a normal human being like her help someone who had just cast a spell like that? Someone giving off the powerful vibe he was emitting?

  “I need you to help me awaken my bride.”

  Several beats passed, moments during which Addie attempted to process and prioritize. But after nearly a minute, she was still hopelessly lost and utterly baffled. “Say what?” she asked, bewildered.

  “I realize this is a lot to take in.” Nero smiled, then chuckled. “You disappear from an airplane mid-flight, you meet strange people who can pull up portals through space and time, and then someone tells you they’ve cast a spell and they want you to wake up their bride. I don’t blame you for the mental double take. But think about it, Addie.” His expression grew more intense, more earnest, and he tilted his head to one side, narrowing his gaze. “You already experienced visions. You’ve actually died, Adelaide. You know damned well that things aren’t as they seem, and they’re certainly not as people believe.”

  Addie stared at him.

  He knew she had visions. And he knew how she’d come upon them… he knew everything.

  When Adelaide was fourteen years old, she made a choice that would change her life forever. When her father found her, she was already losing consciousness. The ambulance arrived at the hospital shortly before she flat lined. She was technically and legally dead for seven minutes and twenty-three seconds.

  She knew what was waiting for you after death. She remembered everything. And it wasn’t what people thought, either.

  “How… how do I help you with your… your bride?” she asked softly. Her body felt numb and her heart was racing. But she was proud of herself. Because she was still standing, and her brain was adjusting to the supernatural. She was compartmentalizing the impossibilities – and dealing. Like a winner.

  She crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to hug herself because it felt better, and Nero came closer. His green eyes sparked like emeralds turning in the sunlight. “Come with me,” he said, holding out his hand. “She lies sleeping in a tomb, alone in the dark. It doesn’t suit her. Death does not suit her. It was not her time.”

  As he spoke, Nero changed. His voice became quieter, deeper, and it seemed to carry less of an accent. He appeared to be speaking introspectively, from some place deep inside, some place hidden and private and older. The space around him darkened in sepia, as if she were watching an aging film. She felt transported by his words, beckoned by a promise in the past.

  I’m already in for a dime, she thought numbly. Here comes the dollar.

  She placed her hand in his. At once, a sensation rode from his hand and into hers. It climbed her arm and moved into her shoulder, a kind of buzzing, uncomfortable nervousness, like the feeling one gets with a very, very mild electric shock.

  A sense of unease came over her. But it was too late. They were moving now, like vampires, the world speeding past them as they stood completely still. Unlike the transportation portal Nicholas and his companions had opened, Nero simply held her hand and looked into her eyes – and the universe raced by them at the speed of light. There was no column of swirling lights, no tube with prismatic walls, nothing. It was simply the two of them and an entire world speeding past as if the world were transporting, not them.

  When he at last released her hand, the sense of unease lessened, and the static discomfort of his touch evaporated. The film she’d been watching was new and present, and they were some place cool and dark.

  It was quiet but for the sound of wind, muted and forlorn.

  “She is here,” said Nero softly beside him. “In these endless passageways. We must walk the path, I’m afraid. There is no other way into the Duat.”

  “The Duat?” she asked, her voice no more than a whisper.

  He looked down at her, and she could barely see his face in the dim light. “The Land of the Dead.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  They moved through long tunnels, dark and filled with sand, and as they moved, torches along the walls burst to life with crackling yellow flame. They did so without being touched; it was just more magic. The sound of their progress was muffled, staunched by the dirt beneath their feet and the thickness of the walls on either side. Yellow bricks were marked here and there with hieroglyphs that Addie couldn’t read. As they advanced further, the bricks became less worn. The hieroglyphs were newer. The ground less sandy. It was as if they were moving through time.

  “We’re close now,” Nero said, his eyes fixed on the path ahead, his expression unreadable. But there was something unsettling in the tightness around his mouth. It was like secrets and determination.

  All at once, Adelaide was overtaken by a psychic vision. She had no idea whether she stopped in her tracks or kept walking – or simply fell into the sand at her feet. All she knew now were the images flashing before her eyes.

  She saw molten eyes, swirling like lava, entrancing and hypnotic. Lights and colors blurred around her. She saw crystals, shapes in glass, and felt hands on her, on her arms, on her waist, even wrapping gently around her throat. A thumb on her pulse, words whispered in her ear. She keeled sideways in the vision as she felt the searing tattoo of a kiss but saw fangs… and blood. She felt a pain in her wrist –

  And the vision changed.

  The atmosphere darkened, lit only by torchlight. The eyes changed. Now they were green. She saw the reflection of fire on a blade, sharp and unforgiving. The pain in her wrist intensified, and she experienced panic.

  And then she was snapping free from the vision in a way she never had before. Usually, visions faded, she was surrounded by fog, light, and at last reality. But this time, she was in the vision one second – and standing stock still in the corridor filled with sand the next.

  Nero had stopped beside her as well. In fact, when she turned to look up at him, she expected him to be gazing back at her questioningly. But he wasn’t. Instead, he was staring at the cat.

  A cat? Addie blinked, wondering if she was still seeing things. But the cat remained where it was, standing directly in front of them in the middle of the sandy corridor. It was a ginger, and it sat tall, proud and calm, its tail wrapped around its paws. It had yellow-gold eyes, and they peered at Adelaide steadily.

  “We’re definitely close,” said Nero. “The Asim guard the gateway between our two worlds. Only the dead are allowed beyond this point.”

 
; Adelaide looked from the cat to Nero and back again. Her heart rate sped up. “Only the dead?” What exactly did he mean by that?

  Slowly, Nero looked down at her. “I can go anywhere, Adelaide.” He smiled easily, but there was something off about the smile. Alarm bells sounded somewhere distantly, barely close enough to be heard. “So you needn’t worry.” He took off his suit coat and tossed it on the ground beside his feet. Then he rolled up his sleeves as if preparing for a fight. His wristwatch glinted on his left wrist, and that was the hand he offered her.

  He held it out toward her, palm up. “Just hold on tight,” he said.

  There was no turning back now. God only knew where she actually was at that moment. Underground somewhere? The hieroglyphs would hint at Egypt, but she knew of no location where tunnels went on forever like this underground in Egypt.

  She’d been transported away from a land that just plain shouldn’t exist – the Nightmare Realm – and into another one that was just as unnatural and strange. And now she felt like she was about to head straight into the belly of the beast. But again – there was no turning back. It was just too late.

  So she put her hand in his, tried not to let it show when she felt the familiar static charge move from him into her, and gritted her teeth when that feeling engulfed her completely. It was stronger than before, charging up her neurons to the point of pain.

  “It will pass,” Nero told her. “The strongest spells require sacrifice.”

  She watched him with building trepidation as he raised the wrist of his free hand, opened his mouth, and bared long, sharp, white fangs.

  Oh shit! Addie instantly tried to pull away, a knee-jerk reaction to seeing a man, even a strikingly handsome man, suddenly grow incisors that only predatory mammals should own. But Nero’s grip on her hand tightened fast, a steel grip she had no hope of escaping. He turned his head, pinning her with stark green eyes that began to heat up, glowing from within. “Stop fighting, Adelaide,” he commanded calmly.