The Dragon King (The Kings Book 12)

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The Dragon King (The Kings Book 12) Page 19

by Heather Killough-Walden


  “Then you’re afraid of being alone.”

  William made a derisive sound and turned his broad back on the boy.

  “But aren’t you alone now?”

  “Oh, for the love of….” William pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “I’m talking to myself.” He hadn’t done this in a long time, by human standards. But he wasn’t human, and it had only been a hundred years. Practically yesterday.

  William noticed the absolute silence and opened his eyes. The small child was gone.

  At once, William felt very much alone indeed.

  Chapter Forty

  Amunet paced toward her. “Right now, your new Dragon King and his Queen are….” Amunet closed her eyes for a moment, as if sensing something in the universe. Lilith knew that was exactly what she was doing. “Just finishing up, so to speak,” Amunet laughed. “I suppose Arach is out of luck there,” she sighed, shrugging. “But you and I both know that doesn’t matter. Not really. Not now.” She paused for emphasis. “Don’t we?”

  Lilith fought off the dizziness and slid her body upward along the wall behind her, using it for balance. She was pretty sure her human form had a concussion. It was too bad she hadn’t been born as a healer. Not that healers were ever able to heal themselves. But it would appear she’d been born without self-healing power of any kind.

  Nice one, Fate.

  But if she died in this form, she would be reborn into another, and at this point in her career as Nomad, she could at least more or less choose which species. Her affinity for human forms was wearing thin. Growing old had been a test all its own. But now she was feeling nauseated too. She would go for a Tuath fae next. They never got concussions.

  “What are you blabbering about, Amunet?” she asked softly, wanting to keep the other Nomad talking long enough for Lilith to regain her bearings and collect her power.

  Amunet shook her head and stopped in front of Lilith. “Don’t be coy with me, Kat. You can feel him too, I know it… after all, he’s your pureblood nephew.”

  Katrielle stilled. She met her sister’s gaze, and her insides went cold. Her nausea abated to be replaced with ice-like fear. There was only one being in the multiverse Amunet had ever referred to in that manner. Her first born son.

  Amunet smiled. “Ah… there we are. There’s the respect this deserves from one like you.” She put her hands on her hips and pretended to look around at the destruction. “I had planned to pave the way for his arrival with a few cleansings, but you’ve complicated matters.”

  Lilith’s Nomadic powers swelled in response to her fear, and without a word, she was hurling a blast of hard, white light at her sister’s solid form. It struck the other woman like a kick to the chest, and Amunet tumbled end-over-end down the long aisle of the theatre.

  Lilith pushed against the wall behind her and came to her booted feet, absolute terror giving her strength. She moved down the aisle, focusing on her sister with renewed interest. When Amunet stopped rolling, and Lilith stood over her, the once ancient witch knelt and grasped her big sister by the throat.

  Amunet only smiled and pretended to enjoy it. Lilith squeezed. “Where is he?”

  Amunet laughed, though the sound was choked by Lilith’s grip on her neck. Lilith eased up a little, realizing that fear was making her mean. It was a visceral reaction, and the very kind that was one of the reasons the Entity was so strong.

  “You’ll know soon enough,” Amunet said, her voice dry.

  Outside, there was another blast, this one tremendous. Everything attached to the walls came loose and crashed to the floor. The splits in the foundations beneath them widened violently, causing deep chasms to appear in the once beautiful building. Smoke rose up through those chasms, and the ceiling above their heads began to cave in.

  An aftershock of dark, desperate fear rolled over Lilith, and she knew at once what had happened. The Entity had been killed.

  She looked back down at her sister, but Amunet’s face was without expression. It was utterly and completely serene.

  It was her eyes that were filled with hate. Lilith had just enough time to register this absolute loathing before Amunet shoved her right hand into Lilith’s sternum with ridiculous force, and there was a sound around them both like the clap of thunder. Cruel magic coursed like broken glass through Lilith’s body, ripping a scream from her throat.

  She fell back, stumbling from her sister to land on her side a few feet away. Distantly, she was aware of Amunet pushing herself to her hands and knees. “You don’t pull your punches, do you, little sister?” the dark haired woman with darker eyes said as she crawled toward her. The evening gown she wore was smudged and torn now, a remnant of a differently planned night that tore further as she grabbed her sister’s body, rolled her onto her back, and then straddled her.

  Lilith blinked blurrily up at her. Pain moved like waves composed of millions of glass shards through her. They scraped her on the inside over and over again, and she was unable to even take a breath. All she knew was the agony of the pure hatred Amunet was composed of.

  “Well, neither do I.” said Amunet. “So I’m going to give it to you straight, kid.”

  She was right, thought Lilith numbly. She’s a fast learner with the colloquialisms.

  “Ahriman is going to be reborn. Arach is going to be reborn. I am going to be reborn.” She smiled when confusion joined the pain in Lilith’s features. “That’s right. You may not be able to kill me, but I’m sure as hell not going to wait around for you to put me to sleep, either.” She glanced over her shoulder, and Lilith felt a tiny bit of Amunet’s power leak out through the doors and debris to reach something beyond.

  A human. She was calling out to a human.

  But more pain wracked through Lilith, and she felt an organ rupture. She was dying now. How could that be, when it was a Nomad who had hurt her? But she knew the answer. Nothing could truly kill what she was made of – but pure, unfiltered hatred.

  The pain bubbled up in her throat, laced with her own blood, and she screamed a wet scream of agony.

  Amunet turned and leaned in to whisper across Lilith’s blood-stained lips. “And my firstborn son is already reborn. You know it in your heart.”

  Lilith coughed, unable to pull clean air into her torn lungs. Amunet helpfully grasped her by the chin and turned her head to the side, allowing her to vomit out the blood she had inhaled. When Lilith stopped hacking, Amunet spoke.

  “Ah, you’re here. Good. Take that spike there and when I tell you, you will drive it all the way through my body from behind. Make sure to get the heart.”

  Lilith could barely see now, but her vision was clear enough to make out the human male, tall and strong, that Amunet had willed into the theatre at her bidding. The man bent over, picked up a fallen beam of roofing from the floor, and stepped up behind Amunet, waiting.

  “Now then, where were we?” Amunet pretended to think. “Oh yes. I was telling you exactly how things were going to go down. Because I hate loose ends. And unlike some people, I don’t keep secrets, especially from my family.” She gently brushed her knuckles across Lilith’s cheek and shook her head. “Pity. This form really does suit you….”

  She dropped her hand and said, “William’s contract with Time is broken. The thirteenth queen has been created once more. When my son finds her, he will take her, and she will make him complete. And when he is complete, Death will reign.”

  Lilith wanted to scream, but she couldn’t now. Blood was filling her lungs so completely, there was nothing left. This was the worst agony any form of hers had ever had to endure. Most of her deaths had been quick. Some had been while she slept. Others had been due to magic. But this… this was how hatred killed, when it was pissed off enough.

  “You can’t stop it. And neither can William. Not this time. Though it will be fun to watch him try. From what Ahriman tells me, he’s tried so many times. I can imagine that each time was a most beautiful angst-filled scene of guilt and loss.”
She laughed softly. “He’s such a pretty boy, I seriously look forward to it.”

  She pushed off of Lilith and came to her feet. Then she said, in a steady voice, calm and strong, “Do it now.”

  The man behind her lunged forward, shoving the sharpened beam through Amunet’s body with ruthless, nearly inhuman strength. The wood erupted from her midsection, thick and wrong. Blood flooded the floor.

  Lilith watched the light go out from Amunet’s once sparkling eyes. The man released the beam, and Amunet fell.

  Chapter Forty-one

  Roman bent one knee against the wall and stared down at the metal rod that connected his midsection to the bricks behind him. He grasped it with two strong hands and winced, trying not to scream in pain as he slowly pulled.

  Evie, he mentally called, only wanting to know that she had survived the fight.

  I’m here, she replied. But she sounded weak, even in his head.

  Roman managed to break free in short agonized seconds, then tossed the metal rod to the ground. His gums throbbed around his fangs; he’d lost a lot of blood. The alley around him was filled with rubble, so he flew over it, landing in the street beyond.

  “Evie!” he called into the night. Rain had burst from the ominous cloud overhead, fast soaking his hair and clothes.

  “Here,” came a beautifully familiar voice. He spun as Evie and Siobhan, the Phantom Queen, came hobbling toward him down the alley. Siobhan was holding Evie up.

  “She’s badly hurt, but will heal,” said the Phantom Queen as she handed Evellyne off to him. Roman easily bent and lifted her into his arms. At once, she passed out, clearly damaged beyond her capacity to maintain consciousness.

  Roman gazed down at her and asked, “Where are the others?”

  “Everywhere,” said Siobhan.

  Roman could tell she meant it. The battle had spanned several blocks as the Entity had pulled in monsters from different realms to aid in his defense. He’d placed a shield over the theatre to protect his queen, but Roman knew that as a Nomad, Lilith had made it inside. He wondered how she’d fared…. Everything was very quiet now.

  He didn’t want to ask, but he needed to know. The blast that had blown so much of the surrounding architecture into rubble might have had something to do with a dying member of the Thirteen as well… so he prepared for the worst when he said, “How many –”

  “As far as I know, none,” said Siobhan. She’d known what he was going to ask, and she would know who was dead. As queen of the Phantom Realm, she would at once be aware if any of the Kings or Queens of the Table passed into the land of the dead.

  Roman closed his eyes and thanked his lucky stars. But then he realized something.

  “This was too easy,” he said.

  “Yes,” came a fourth voice. “It was.”

  He and Siobhan turned to see Avery, Selene, Caliban, and Minerva – the royalty of both the Seelie and Unseelie fae courts – coming down the street toward them. Their clothing was dark, and there was a lot of leather, but Roman could still see the damage they’d all taken in battle, and of course he could smell their blood.

  It was Caliban who’d spoken. “We’re missing something,” he said, shaking his head. His dark eyes glittered meaningfully.

  Roman nodded. He knew. Something wasn’t right.

  “Take Evie and get the two of you patched up,” said Caliban meaningfully. The Unseelie King knew good and well that Roman and his queen needed blood.

  “We’ll go with you,” came yet another new voice. Roman glanced over his shoulder to see several more members of the Table moving down the opposite site of the street toward them. Thanatos the Phantom King, and Nicholas the Nightmare King each had an arm of Kristopher, the Winter King, over their shoulders as they helped him slowly across the asphalt. Addie, Nicholas’s queen, and Poppy, Kristopher’s queen, walked beside them. Poppy clutched her arm tightly; blood had pooled between her fingers. She and her husband were injured, and Kristopher’s injuries appeared to be grave. But like most of the Thirteen Kings and Queens, he would heal in time.

  The lot of them had barely scraped by in this fight, it seemed. None of them had perished, but they’d only gone up against one Nomad. Lilith had faced Amunet alone.

  Shit, he thought suddenly. “We need to check on Lilith.” He couldn’t detect the old witch through the barrier the Entity had thrown up, but the barrier surely should have fallen since Ahriman’s death. Why could he still not sense her presence?

  “You go, tend to your queen, and I’ll take several men into the theatre,” said Caliban.

  “Count us in,” said Avery. The women beside him nodded.

  “And us.” Keeran Pitch stepped from the shadows of the nearest alley. His wife, Violet, stepped out behind him. As the Shadow sovereigns, this was natural for them. Roman scented Wolf’s blood as well, but whatever injuries he’d sustained must have been minor, or he hid them well.

  “And us,” said another familiar voice.

  This time, everyone turned around, and a silence fell over the building group. This was a voice they had not expected to hear this night. This particular King was not supposed to be here. He was supposed to keep Evangeline hell and gone from anywhere near the Entity and his queen.

  But when Calidum and Eva stepped out of the alley they’d obviously portalled into, Roman could tell at once that the situation had changed. It was no longer dangerous for Evangeline to be exposed to the evil Nomads and their equally evil Traitor son. Because Evangeline had become the Dragon Queen.

  Her once paper-white hair was now raven black, and shimmered like the night sky in the arctic. Her lavender eyes nearly glowed with newfound power. Her clothing was also black – the armor of her dragon’s scales.

  And there was a smile on her face that reflected both the beautiful serenity and enormous pride of one who had just found their place in the universe.

  “Ah,” said Roman with a smile of his own. “I see.”

  “Welcome to the fold, Eva,” said Adelaide, who had a special relationship with Eva. She had been the first queen to make the Legendary dragon’s acquaintance, and she had also been the first queen that Eva had healed, bringing her back from the brink of death.

  Eva smiled shyly, and even blushed. “Thanks.” Beside her, Calidum looked as disgustingly smug as a wolf who’d made it into a henhouse. He was now officially a member of the Lucky Bastard club.

  But the smile slipped from Eva’s face, and Roman caught the adrenaline that at once laced her blood.

  “Mother…” whispered Eva.

  Everything seemed to drop into slow motion as at once, the Dragon Queen was spinning, moving toward the theatre so fast she nearly blurred. The men behind her were immediately running after her, yelling and racing to keep up.

  That’s why I can’t feel her, thought Roman as dread climbed like slime over his heart. Lilith McLaren was dead. This time is different, he thought. This time, it was for good.

  Chapter Forty-two

  Eva’s heart hammered, newly strengthened by Calidum’s blood and her own transformation, so that it almost hurt inside her chest as she crashed through the debris surrounding the theatre seating doors. Her eyes scanned the theatre remnants impatiently.

  But the ceiling had caved in, and rubble covered everything. The seats were crushed, the floor was split into segments by open chasms, and the walls had all but tumbled completely down. To make matters worse, dust filled the air, a nearly impenetrable cloud that hid most of the room from sight.

  Eva raised her arms at her sides and concentrated. The wind obeyed her command, whipping up and through the room as if controlled by the beat of a dragon’s mighty wings. The dust rose at the behest of that wind, and disappeared over the crumbling ramparts. Eva lowered them again when the dust was clear and everything was visible.

  Footsteps behind her told her the others had caught up. She could feel her mother here, somewhere… she was so weak. Nearly gone. Only the bond of Nomad blood between them provided an
y link at all. If it hadn’t been for that, Eva would have lost the tether entirely.

  “She’s here somewhere,” Eva told them. She tried to think of what her mother’s name would be in this life, but the truth was, she didn’t know. She only knew her last incarnation. “Lalura is here,” she clarified. “I can feel her. She’s close to death.”

  The men and women around her immediately moved further into the room. The men began lifting large pieces of debris and carefully moving them in case there was someone trapped underneath. The women either began casting spells or used inherent powers to move objects just as Eva had.

  Evangeline closed her eyes and concentrated with all of her newfound might. Mother… please answer me.

  *****

  Lilith sat cross-legged in a dark room with her eyes closed and waited. Her hands rested easily on her knees, and her back was straight. She felt nothing – absolutely nothing, here in the core of her mind, where there was nothing left to feel. Her body in the outside world was nearly gone, nearly past the point of redemption, and she would once more leave this world, regroup, and reform as something else. A Tuath, she thought wistfully. Just so we’re clear.

  But no solid new form appeared around her. No doorway to her next life materialized. She seemed to be waiting, eyes closed, forever. And there in that forever darkness, Lilith realized the inevitable.

  Well, she thought winsomely, I guess nothing lasts forever. Hatred had killed her at last.

  Mother… please answer me.

  Lilith opened her eyes in the dark room and stared straight ahead. Had… she imagined it?

  Mother. Please, help me.

  Eva! Lilith thought, unable to keep herself from responding.

  Mata!

  She had to go. She had to make it to her daughter. Nothing mattered but her daughter!

 

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