The Nightmare King (The Kings Book 11)

by Heather Killough-Walden

  She screamed again, and he kissed her lips, violently claiming them with breathless abandon to swallow the sound of her torment. He parted her teeth, teased her tongue, and chuckled against her lips when his fangs pierced them, drawing more of her exquisite blood. He could have kissed her forever, but there were other things he needed to do to her, and that need was clawing at his insides.

  So he broke their kiss as he continued to ride her, moving inside her with driving fury as he reached up with one hand and ripped the leather bindings around one of her arms free from the bed post. Addie stilled just a little beneath him, clearly struck by the sheer strength of what he’d done, but when he raised her wrist to his lips, she began to fight again – she knew what he was going to do.

  All of her, his monster told him.

  He bared his fangs, holding her arm tight, and sank them deep into her vein. His magic poured into her, her blood poured into him, and a third orgasm ripped through Adelaide, rocking her to her core.

  Nicholas felt that climax squeeze the life out of him, and he lost a little of his sanity then and there. It was beyond bliss. It was the single most amazing thing he had ever felt. It went on forever, but not nearly long enough, and he knew he couldn’t afford to take too much blood.

  The muscles of her inner rings began to relax as she came down, and Nicholas looked up at her. Sweat dampened her forehead, locks of her hair sticking to her delicate features. Her cheeks and lips were so very flushed, her lips swollen from his demanding kisses and the tiny wounds he’d inflicted there. She tossed her head to one side, her eyes shut tight, her long black lashes brushing the apples of her cheeks. They, too, were wet.

  Fuck. He wanted to feel it again. Now.

  With zero patience remaining, Nicholas reached over and tore her other arm free from its bindings, making certain to protect her wrist and rip the metal buckles apart instead. His cock throbbed inside her, building, demanding, making his vision turn red. He brought her arm to his lips and bared his fangs.

  This time, Adelaide didn’t fight. Instead, she opened her eyes, and heavily lidded irises gazed at him through an inner light that was beginning to glow.

  By the gods, he thought suddenly, literally stunned at the sheer beauty of that barely glowing gaze. It was the shade of honey amber, the hue of a setting sun. It was his new favorite color.

  But there was not a force on or off the planet that could have made him stop in that moment. So he placed a tender kiss upon the scarred flesh of her inner arm – and then bit down hard. His teeth sank deep, and at once her blood poured over his tongue, as heady and intoxicating as a strong sip of wine.

  He swallowed, the dizziness of bliss overtook him, and down below he drove his hardness into her… pulled out… drove back in.

  She shook beneath him, her beautiful body ravaged by his attack, a slight smile of pleasure claiming her bruised lips. A universe of tension was building within him. And he was only half way done.

  Completely. Claim her completely.

  He knew it was now or never, that he had to finish this now or he would lose himself inside her… and they would have to start all over again.

  That thought gave him a thrill of a pause, and the idea of doing this to her over and over and over for the rest of eternity flashed before his mind. But she was yet human. It would kill her.

  So he pulled out of her, both is teeth and his cock, and he moved over her body like the Nightmare that he was. Adelaide’s brow furrowed in disappointment and confusion as his muscles flexed and his wings stretched and he crawled down the bed to that sweet, precious, tender place between her legs.

  A soft sound escaped her lips as he lowered his head, and she no doubt figured out his intentions. She was so slick, so smooth, he was shaking by the time his mouth was inches from her opening. He inhaled slowly, then smiled. His tongue swept upward, parting her enflamed lips, and she bucked in his grip, crying out against the new, different onslaught.

  He knew she would do so, and he’d prepared for the struggle. His hands maintained their firm hold on her thighs, leaving small finger-shaped bruises. He took his time exploring her, teasing her and tempting her, and by the time he finished, it was only because he literally could not wait any longer.

  He was in too much pain. And so was she.

  He turned his head, found the blue line beneath the skin of her thigh – and sank his fangs in deep.

  Adelaide screamed, her tortured bellow echoing off the walls at this new and particularly painful assault. But Nicholas knew it wouldn’t last long, and as her blood once more caressed his tongue and the taste of it sent him to Cloud Nine, he was proven right. Addie settled down in his grip, her scream turned to a moan, and her body shook under its fifth orgasm.

  You are going to be so sore after this, he thought with an inner grin. The monster in him was not a nice beast. It was a sexual beast. And it was starting to get mean with its own unsatisfied need. So without pause, Nicholas withdrew his fangs from her tender taut thigh, and turned his head to the other one.

  His arm snaked underneath, wrapped around tight, and held her fast as his teeth ached, and his body throbbed. He zeroed in on the major artery that ran the length of her creamy thigh and placed a kiss upon it.

  “Nicholas, just do it!” Adelaide suddenly cried, her voice nearly completely hoarse, her words desperate. She sounded so beautiful.

  Nicholas’s claws sank deep – and his teeth sank deeper. The climax swept over Adelaide at once this time, claiming her completely as Nicholas drank deep, and his magic unfurled within her. Sweet, soft sounds filled the chamber, clawing at Nick’s reason, stripping away the last remaining vestiges of his lucid being.

  He withdrew his fangs, turned to Addie with burning, hard determination, and moved over her lithe, bound body one last time. As he did, his gaze scored into her. He took in every mark he’d made, every small and not so small signature he’d created upon her form, and he knew they’d branded their way into her soul.

  He braced one arm on either side of her head and claimed her beautiful amber gaze with his own as he lined himself up one final time – and plowed into her with all he had. She clutched at him hard with frantic hands as she squeezed him down below with her tightness, and dug her nails into his back with abandon. A smug satisfaction rode him as hard as he rode her, and he fed the Nightmare at last, his thrusts swift and deep and merciless.

  He embedded her to the hilt every time, over and over again, and relished in the sight of her body as it danced beneath him. He savored her small sounds, each gasp, each moan. His claws dug into the satin sheets, tearing them with their razor grip. His teeth were bared. His body was on fire, as painfully taut as a bow string.

  Adelaide felt like a blessing around him, a promise beneath him, and that promise came true as his release exploded upon him like a supernova. He threw back his head and bellowed to the Cosmos. On either side, his wings hit the walls, breaking pieces into rubble that cascaded to the floor below.

  Sound went away. A numb ringing took over his ears, and stars swam in his vision while he emptied himself into his sweet queen, who came one long, last time along with him. Her muscles clutched at him again and again as if her life depended upon it, and her arms grew slack with exhaustion, releasing their clawed grip on his back to fall to the bed in surrender.

  Nicholas rode the waves out. They went on forever.

  Finally, he lowered his head and tried to breathe. His form was enveloped in such sweet paradise, there was actually a part of him that was afraid he’d died during the night, expired in the experience. It was too good to be true.

  But one look at Adelaide in his bed, at her glowing eyes, at the subtly showing tips of perfect white fangs on her lower lip… and truth became blessed reality.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “I suppose it’s a good thing I’m supposed to be queen… seeing as how I can’t go back into the mortal world anymore. Not with the government hunting me down, anyway.”

  “
I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” Nicholas told her. “I’ve got friends working on it. You’d be surprised what goes on day in and day out in the mortal world that most people have no memory of.”

  Addie processed that, wondering who those friends were and what they were doing – and sort of not caring. Then she added, “Well… there’s the Challenger to worry about too, I guess. You know,” she said softly, “you look just like Nero.”

  “Well, there’s a reason for that,” he said from where he lay behind her, spooning her. He sounded calm, peaceful. He sounded the way she felt. Her whole body tingled – and some of it ached. But it was a delicious, well-tended ache that made her belly tighten a little and flushed her skin warm. The cool satin sheets caressed her marked flesh, every brush reminding her of what they’d just done.

  She thought about going at it again. The fact that he was pressed hard against her back reinforced that thought.

  But… there was something happening inside her. It wasn’t a bad thing. She’d been there before, in that place where something just felt “wrong,” that place a person went just before they died. This was wholly different. It was the opposite, in fact. She felt almost high, as if she were coming alive, and for the first time.

  “In a way, I suppose he is my brother,” he said. “We’ve always been equals in most respects. We were created of the same Nightmare mold, so forming us in the same image isn’t a stretch. We were both made for the throne. I’ve simply won the battle every time.”

  Addie turned slowly in the bed to face him. She looked up into his gray-silver eyes. “The only physical difference between you is that he has green eyes and yours are gray.”

  Nicholas smiled. “You have a thing for him, don’t you?”

  Addie blushed. “Okay, no lies between us because you’ve just screwed my brains out.” She shrugged. “I have a thing for green eyes.”

  Nicholas chuckled, the sound warm and comforting.

  “Would you consider wearing contacts?” she teased.

  “For you, I would wear contacts and a saddle if I knew it would turn you on.” He cupped her face, and grinned. “But I know it wouldn’t, so we’ll stick with the contacts.”

  Addie laughed. Happiness just rose up and bubbled out of her, and for the first time in a very long time, her laughter was not forced at all. She’d forgotten what that felt like – to laugh for real, and not for pretend because society expects it. But he made her feel peaceful. He made her feel like this was natural. It was as if their souls had met long ago and she were reuniting with an old friend. With benefits.

  Her giggle died down, and Nicholas propped himself up on his elbow. She watched the muscles of his chest and arms flex and ripple, and she gulped. He’d turned back into his human form long ago, but she would never get the image of him as the Nightmare King out of her head. Hopefully.

  “You are beautiful beyond words,” he told her as he ran the fingers of his free hand through her curly hair – and then they got stuck.

  She cringed. “Yeah right.”

  He laughed whole heartedly now, and then spoke a strange, clearly magical word. A crystal clear breeze, cool and tinkling like wind chimes, brushed over her, moving through her hair like gentle fingertips. When it passed, she looked down and grabbed a lock.

  It was shimmering shiny, there was zero frizz, and it was soft as silk. Her went eyes wide with fascination. She pushed her fingers through it. They ran smoothly, not a single hint of a knot to be found. She sat up and pulled all of her hair over her shoulders, for once not even caring that she was completely naked in front of someone. Her hair felt as wonderful as the sheets, softer than any hair had ever felt, and the curls were stunning.

  She dropped her hair and looked up at the Nightmare King. “I think I love you,” she told him frankly. She was only half-teasing. Any man who could do what he did to her in bed and fix her damned hair pretty much had her heart in his hands.

  He was still smiling, but something mysterious passed through his silver-gray eyes, and caught Addie’s gaze. It was gone as soon as it had come, and he said, “You’ll soon be able to do it yourself given practice. To a Nightmare, appearance is integral, so we have all sorts of nifty abilities like that.”

  “Why is beauty so integral?” she thought, suddenly feeling not as beautiful as she wanted to.

  Nicholas cupped her cheek and looked deep into her eyes. “As Nightmares, we are fortunate enough to see a soul’s beauty with the unaided eye.” He shook his head, and his gaze skirted around her form. His eyes took on a mystified look. “It’s far lovelier than any form a human body can take.”

  He fell silent for a moment, caught up in what Addie could only assume was her soul. And then he re-focused and shrugged, chuckling. “But it’s impressive to us, too. And sometimes, a little shaming.” He grinned. So naturally, we want to appear as beautiful as we can to those souls in return.”

  Addie smiled. Just like that, her self esteem was back.

  And then the premonition struck.

  Addie lost her breath with this one. Her body convulsed as it was jerked violently downward then passed through the floor. It flew down and broke through a floor after that, and then another. She fell and fell, crashing through layers of reality, striking each one with tremendous force that she heard explode in her eardrums. She felt as if her body were being destroyed, but there was no pain.

  And then she was on the floor, and this time she didn’t break through. This time, she opened her eyes to find herself staring into the very dead gaze of another girl. Blood covered the girl’s face. Her brown eyes looked at nothing; they could no longer see. Blood had pooled and dried beneath her. All around, there was movement. All around, there was chaos. But it sounded far away, muffled as if separated from Addie by the trauma of the situation.

  Among those muffled sounds were gunshots. One… two… three, four, five…. On and on they went, slow and methodical. Addie knew where she was. She was in the school where the bullied girl was shooting.

  Oh God, she thought, staring into that young, dead face. Where? Where was the school? She could feel the reality of the image moving closer through time. She felt it pressing in. But she couldn’t move. She couldn’t even sit up to look around. All she could do was look at the murdered student in front of her.

  So that’s what she did. Her eyes slid over the young girl’s features to the collar of her shirt. No, wait. Not a shirt. A uniform. Cheerleader? No, not quite. Drill team, maybe. But it didn’t matter, because over the left breast was the crest of the school. Addie stared at it fixedly, her heart racing. She stayed as still as she could, willing the premonition to last long enough for her to sear the image of the crest into her mind.

  Bang… bang….

  But she was losing focus. The image was fading around her as it always did. She felt her body being pulled back into itself, into the reality that waited somewhere else.

  Don’t forget!

  She wouldn’t. She would never, as long as she live, forget that school’s crest.

  Moments later, she opened her eyes in the carousel room in the massive, dark bed beside her massive, dark king to find she’d been pulled into his lap, and he was cradling her, his expression grim, his eyes spinning silver.

  “Addie,” he said, probably not for the first or even the tenth time. “Answer me. Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” she replied to let him know she was okay. Her voice was slightly scratchy, and her chest ached, and she realized the vision had literally knocked the breath out of her. “It was that vision,” she told him quickly, pushing against him to sit up. Time was of the essence. “I need something to draw with right away.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Rodney Stokes answered the front door of Adelaide’s mansion in the same manner he always did, but this time he couldn’t help but hope it was Addie herself on the other side, even though he knew it couldn’t be. He’d placed wards all over the property to alert him at the first sign of her, just in
case she came stumbling in mortally wounded or God only knew what. And of course, he was right. The person on the threshold of Adelaide Lane’s mansion was not the lady of the manor, but an old man.

  “Mr. Stokes,” the man said. He smiled warmly, and bright, very blue eyes flashed in the sunlight. “My name is Monroe. I work for Nicholas Wargrave.”

  A butler, Rodney thought immediately. He’d worked in the service industry – and watched enough Batman movies – to recognize the stature when he saw it. But then there was also something else he thought immediately, riding the coattails of his first impression: Magic.

  “May I come inside? We need to talk,” Monroe said, and his smile was confident but there was something in his expression that indicated the old man was used to getting his way. To Rodney, he appeared wise beyond even his accelerated years.

  Rodney made his decision. “Please come in,” he said politely, stepping to the side to allow the man entry to Adelaide’s home. He simply had a feeling, as seers often did. And he was hoping this one wasn’t wrong.

  *****

  “So who is this one?” Evangeline asked, pointing to the dark, hooded figure on Mimi’s computer screen.

  “That one is Reaper,” Mimi instructed authoritatively. “His original name was Gabriel Reyes. But when Mercy resurrected him, something went wrong, and now he’s in a constant state of decay and regeneration, and as you can imagine, that hurts. So he’s always crabby.”

  Eva’s brows raised. “Sounds to me like he could use a good, strong pain killer patch.”

  “Yeah, my friends joke that he just needs some weed.” She smiled and giggled at something that was obviously going on in her head. “Then we could call him Reefer!”

  There was a knock at the door. Eva put her hand on Mimi’s shoulder. “You stay here. I’ll see who that is.”

  She left the home office and moved out into the hall. The home was a rental, and she’d only been in it for a few months. She liked to move around, and was good at it. Unlike most members of her species, she didn’t have a nearly unquenchable thirst for all things shiny and beautiful, so she hadn’t yet amassed so many personal items that she couldn’t move.