by S. J. West
“And what does your sister think about such an arrangement?” I ask, hearing Kyna rattle the bars of her cage letting me and everyone in the room know exactly what she thinks about her brother’s malevolent plans for her future. “Well, I guess that answers my question.”
“Kyna simply doesn’t see the brilliance in my plan yet,” Lorcan answers. “But after our wedding night, I’m sure she won’t have any complaints.”
Some of the people in attendance snicker at Lorcan’s crude comment, making me wish I could turn on them and slap some reason into them. I don't understand why they desire to see Kyna suffer at the hands of her brother.
“When I was a child,” I say, slowly tugging at the tips of the glove on my right hand with my left one. “Empress Catherine made sure I understood the laws within each cloud city. There is one here in Stratus, even though it is a bit on the archaic side, that I remember quite distinctly. It’s a little something called ‘wager of battle’.”
I completely pull off my glove and throw it down in front of Lorcan’s booted feet.
The look on Lorcan’s face tells me he has no idea what the significance of the glove at his feet holds.
“I’m afraid I’m not very familiar with that law,” Lorcan admits, looking up from the glove back into my eyes.
“The law states that anyone can challenge a peer of equal rank to a duel to settle a dispute,” I say.
“I wasn’t aware Stratus had a dispute with Cirrus,” Lorcan says snidely.
“I have a dispute with you,” I tell him, not trying to hide the disgust I feel for him from my voice. “I accuse you of forcing your sister into an unholy matrimony that most people with any self-respect,” I say looking at some of the party's attendees, “would speak up against. But since the people of Stratus seem to be willing to overlook your transgression against Kyna, I feel it’s my duty to speak on her behalf and act as her champion.”
“I don’t believe Kyna asked you for such a thing,” Lorcan says, fully understanding what it is I’m asking for now.
I look up at Kyna in her gilded cage to make sure she’s looking down at me.
“Princess Kyna Halloran,” I call up to her, “do you agree to have me act as your champion in this matter?”
Kyna looks hesitant and worried by my request. It’s obvious she doesn’t understand why I would want to wager her freedom on an act of physical combat against her brother. To ease her worry, I wink at her. I see her shoulders sag a bit letting me know that some of her worry has been put aside for the moment. Slowly, she begins to nod her head in acquiescence to my request.
I look back at Lorcan.
“Since the princess accepts me as her champion, you need to pick between one of two options, Lorcan. Either you can pick up the glove I’ve lain at your feet and accept my challenge to resolve this issue by combat, or you can graciously accept defeat and allow me to take Kyna away from this place. The choice is yours. Personally, I hope you pick the glove up. I haven’t had a good fight in a while.”
Lorcan’s face turns blood red. I can’t determine if it’s from embarrassment or anger. Though, it might simply be a result of both emotions playing across his face.
Lorcan slowly crouches to the floor and gingerly picks up my glove.
“I accept your challenge, Empress Anna,” he says, rising back to his full height.
“Since I’m the one who gave the challenge,” I say, “you are allowed to choose which weapons we use.”
“Swords,” Lorcan says without hesitation.
It was what we expected. Abaddon would think his weapon gave him an advantage over me.
“Swords it is then,” I say. “And as the impartial referee in our duel, I suggest we use Empress Olivia since she is the only other person of our rank in attendance.”
“Whatever,” Lorcan says indifferently. “Will this be a fight to the death?”
I hear a combined gasp issue from the crowd around us at such a suggestion.
“If you wish,” I tell him, “though, if you find that you would rather live than die, you can use the code word from the old days to declare you have been vanquished by your opponent and still keep your head.”
“And what word would that be?” Lorcan asks cockily, like he has no doubt he will win the fight and have no need of its use.
“Craven,” I tell him. “If Empress Olivia hears either of us say it, she will call an end to the fight.”
“And when shall we have this fight?” He asks.
“I see no reason to delay,” I tell him. “How about now?”
“As you wish,” Lorcan says, a touch of madness in his voice as he stares down at me.
I sense Malcolm phase away from my side, but he returns less than five seconds later with my sword in hand.
I turn towards Malcolm and take my sword from him. Malcolm pulls me up against him and kisses me for all of Stratus to see. I hear some gasps of surprise but could care less what these people think of me. I have absolutely no respect for any of them. They were willing to allow Lorcan to enter into an incestuous union with his sister. If they think I’m morally corrupt because Malcolm is simply my lover in their eyes, so be it.
When Malcolm pulls his lips away from mine, he lowers his head next to my ear.
“Remember to use all your senses,” Malcolm tells me. “He can’t defeat you unless you lose focus.”
I nod my head letting him know I understand what he said.
“Tear this dress off of me, husband, so I can get to work.”
Malcolm raises his head and smiles down at me.
“As you command, my love.”
Malcolm kisses me again. Then he lets me go and kneels down in front of me on one knee. He begins to rip the lower half of my gown away from the waist down. I hear a surprised murmur come from the crowd around us, but feel their disappointment when they learn I’m wearing my white leather pants and boots beneath the skirt. Once Malcolm is finished, he stands back up with the lower half of my dress in his hands.
I turn to face Lorcan again.
“Are you ready to begin?” I ask him.
Lorcan turns his back to the crowd and me. When he turns back around, he’s holding his phantom sword. The blade is composed of three curved black blades twisted around each other like a triple helix. The hilt is gold and reminds me of the wings of a bird. Wispy white smoke flows within the center of the blades making the sword appear rather ominous.
“Ready when you are,” he replies with a tight-lipped smile.
I walk down to the middle of the room, setting my own sword aflame. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirrors in the room and wonder how this fight will look to those in attendance. I just hope they have the good sense to stay out of my way.
As I'm about to look away from my reflection, I notice a man watching me. Everyone in the room is watching me, but his stare is more piercing than the rest. He's tall with short brown hair and dark brown eyes. His demeanor speaks of someone who is used to being obeyed, possibly someone men would follow into battle without question. There's something oddly familiar about him, but I can't quite place where I know him from or if I actually know him at all. Unfortunately, I don't have much time to ruminate on who he is. I have a fight to win first.
Once I’m in the center of the room, I turn back around to face Lorcan.
Malcolm rips off a strip of fabric from the remnants of my dress’s skirt in his hands and walks behind me.
“This will help,” he tells me, covering my eyes with the fabric.
After he blindfolds me, I feel him rest his hands on my shoulder and lean in to whisper in my ear.
“Now, go kick his ass, wife,” Malcolm tells me, kissing me on the side of my neck.
I smile. “That’s exactly what I intend to do.”
Chapter 15
I stand completely still and wait for Lorcan to make the first move. Although there are other people in the room, I can easily distinguish his presence from theirs. A particularly bad aura surrou
nds him and helps separate Lorcan out from everyone else. It’s almost like I can sense his smarmy attitude without having to actually see the smirk on his face. His sword does nothing to help hide his position either. There’s a faint sulfuric scent wafting from its blades that lets me know exactly where it is. If I didn’t have the blindfold on, I’m not sure I would have even noticed it. But without my sight, my hearing and sense of smell are greatly enhanced.
I hear the sound of Lorcan’s sword sing through the air behind me and know that he phased there to try and catch me off guard. I quickly turn and meet his oddly bladed sword with my own. I wonder what the people watching this fight will see. Does Lorcan’s phantom sword make it appear like he’s still standing in front of me or does direct contact with it vanquish the illusion that it’s supposed to help him perpetuate? I have no idea since I’m blinded and can't actually watch the fight as it progresses. All I hear is the clash of our blades as they reverberate through the silence in the room.
Lorcan tries to use brute force to push me back. Apparently, he didn’t get the memo from his fallen brothers that I’m stronger than any of them. He might not be a Prince of Hell, but his physical strength is just as great. As he attempts to back me up, I show him in no uncertain terms that he’s no match for me in that area.
He changes tactics and uses the power of his sword to try to find an opening by catching me unawares. His attempts do nothing to gain him an advantage over me. I know exactly where he is as soon as he phases in. At one point, I hear him growl in frustration which only brings a smile to my face. My only regret is that I can’t watch the fight that’s taking place. The reflection of our duel in the mirrors in the room must be a remarkable sight as my flaming swords clashes against Lorcan’s phantom one.
I patiently wait for my opening to take Lorcan down. I’m aware of time and know that our fight has gone on for a good half hour. Finally, I find my opening as he lowers his guard, and I ‘see’ my chance to end this fight. I bend down and sweep Lorcan’s feet out from under him by slicing him mid-calf. He screams out in pain and falls to the floor. I tear off my blindfold just as I stick the point of my sword near his throat. By this point, we’re both breathing hard from the exertion of the fight.
“Do you yield?” I demand.
Lorcan smiles, sending a shiver down my spine.
“You really shouldn’t have done that,” he says to me.
“Done what?” I ask. “Beat you?”
He shakes his head, continuing to smile madly.
“No. Taken your blindfold off.”
I hear Malcolm shout out my name and am able to dodge Lorcan’s true-self’s blade just enough to only receive a cut across my right arm, causing me to lose my grip on my sword. The Lorcan I had on the ground disappears into a wisp of white smoke, and I turn in time to see the real Lorcan raise his sword like he’s about to stab me in the chest with it.
I instantly feel the sting of an all-consuming hatred enter my heart. Using my newest gift from the seals, I mentally pick Lorcan up and throw him up against one of the mirrors on the wall behind him. The force of the impact causes the mirror to shatter inward, and Lorcan loses hold of his sword. Before he can recover enough to pick it back up, I phase over to him. My hands ignite with blue flames, causing the ordinary citizens of Stratus to gasp in surprise at my ability.
I grab Lorcan by the throat and squeeze the tender flesh there.
“Yield,” I whisper to him. “Or I will kill you.”
“And if I yield, what do I get in return?”
“A chance to live.”
“What’s to stop you from just coming back and killing me later?”
“Nothing. But if you release Kyna and promise to leave her alone, I’ll let you live. You have my word. You’re not a prince and have nothing that I need right now. I can afford to let you live, for the time being, as long as you continue to treat the people of Stratus with generosity. If you do anything to harm them or Kyna, I won’t give you this opportunity to save your own skin again. I’ll simply kill you. Is that understood?”
“Yes.”
“Then say the word that will end this fight, or I will end it my way.”
Lorcan stares at me for a moment, and I know I’ve just made an enemy for life.
“Craven!” Lorcan shouts out, casting the shadow of a coward on his reputation from that moment on.
“Emperor Lorcan has asked for mercy,” I hear Olivia Ravensdale say to the room. “Do you accept his surrender, Empress Anna?”
I squeeze Lorcan’s throat tightly, making sure he feels the power I have and understands my words to him were not empty ones. I can back them up with action.
“Yes,” I say. “I accept the emperor’s surrender.”
I continue to stare at Lorcan feeling the power I have over him and finding it completely intoxicating. I could easily extinguish his life and be done with a possible future threat. Wouldn’t it be smarter to just kill him now before he can cause more trouble later? What’s the point of keeping him alive if he’s simply going to make me kill him at a later date? In a way, it might be more of a kindness to slay him. Wouldn’t it be crueler to give him hope that I’ll continue to let him live as long as he acts the way I want him to?
I tighten my hold on his throat and see fear enter his eyes. I’m not sure if Abaddon has ever felt true fear before this moment, but I know without a shadow of a doubt that he feels it now.
“Anna…” I hear Malcolm say beside me. “You’ve won and shown these people the coward that he is. It’s time to let him go.”
“But I could end it so easily,” I say.
“Not this way,” Malcolm says. “You’re not a murderer, my love.”
I hear the truth in Malcolm’s words, but I also know the line between leaving Lorcan alive and killing him is almost transparent.
“Anna…” Malcolm says, entreating me to do the honorable thing.
I release my hold on Lorcan’s throat and watch him fall to the floor onto his hands and knees, gasping for air. Two Stratus guards quickly come over to help lift their emperor to his feet.
“Free Kyna,” I order.
Lorcan looks at me scathingly.
“As you wish,” he says.
I watch as he brings up a set of holographic controls over the palm of his left hand and presses in a code. I hear Kyna scream as the cage she is in suddenly vanishes. She begins a swift freefall to the floor beneath her. Before I can react, I see Brutus phase in and catch her before she hits the floor.
I breathe a sigh of relief as Brutus sets her on her feet. Gently, he lifts the mesh veil covering her face, giving back her voice. I watch to see what her reaction will be as the two of them come face to face for the very first time in their lives.
Kyna looks at Brutus and smiles, but it’s simply a polite one as she says thank you. I guess I expected her expression to mirror the fact that her world suddenly felt like it shattered and was made whole again just by meeting her soulmate. Yet, she doesn’t look like that at all. There’s interest in her eyes as she continues to study Brutus, but not total recognition of who the man standing before her truly is.
“I don’t understand,” I say to Malcolm as I continue to watch the interaction between Brutus and Kyna.
Malcolm looks over at them and seems to figure out what it is I’m confused about.
“I’ll explain it to you later,” he tells me, walking over to where I dropped my sword and retrieving it for me before returning to my side. “Right now, we need to attend to your wound.”
I look back at Lorcan, making sure he listens to what I have to tell him before I leave.
“We’ll be watching your every move,” I warn him. “If we see anything we don’t like, you know what I’ll do to you.”
“You have nothing to fear from me,” Lorcan says, and I wish I could know for sure whether or not he’s lying to me. Simply by using my own judgment of his character, I assume he’s lying.
I notice Olivia watching o
ur exchange and walk over to her.
“Thank you for your support in this matter,” I tell her. “And I want you to know that I haven’t forgotten the promise I made to you. I do intend to keep it.”
Olivia smiles wanly. “I know you will, Anna. Of that, I never had a doubt.”
“You should probably leave now,” I tell her. “I don’t think Lorcan will be in a very good mood for the rest of the evening.”
Olivia laughs. “A very astute conclusion, my dear. I hope to see you again soon under better circumstances.”
“So do I, Olivia.”
Olivia teleports away, presumably back to Nacreous.
I turn to see Desmond and Jered are now standing by Brutus and know they will take care of Kyna for me. I briefly search the crowd to find the man I saw right before the fight, but he's nowhere to be seen. Still, there is something about his presence that intrigues me, but I don't know why.
“Let’s go home and see what we can do about your injury,” Malcolm says, placing his hand on the small of my back and phasing us to his bedroom in New Orleans.
When we get there, Malcolm tosses my sword onto his bed then leads me to the bathroom. He makes me sit down on the small chair there while he fills the sink with warm water and dampens a washcloth.
“I suppose a healing wand won’t work on this wound,” I say as I watch Malcolm carefully wash away the blood on my arm.
“No, it won’t,” Malcolm confirms. “In fact, it might even leave a scar since it will have to heal naturally.”
“That’s all right. I have a feeling it won’t be the last battle wound I get from this fight.”
“It will be if I have anything to say about it,” Malcolm declares determinedly.
“I guess I shouldn’t have taken the blindfold off so soon. But I wanted to see his face. I wanted to see him beaten. If you hadn’t stopped me, I probably would have killed him, Malcolm. I wanted to do it more than I would like to admit.”