Cast in Hellfire: An Urban Fantasy Romance (The Mage Craft Series Book 2)

by SM Reine

  “Seth will take care of it,” Konig said.

  The mention of his name made Marion waver, but only for an instant. “Will he? Or will he be hurt—killed—because he has no help left in Duat? I’m meant to be there with him. He’s only one man.”

  “A demon.”

  “We don’t know that,” Marion hissed. “He needs me!”

  Konig stalked away from her, and then paced back, as though searching for an outlet for his frenetic energy. “This isn’t about the Canope. This isn’t about your memories. This about the fact that you don’t want to marry me, after all I’ve done for you!”

  “You’re right about that,” Marion snapped. “There’s no chance in the Middle Worlds, the Nether Worlds, or anywhere else that I will marry someone who treats me like this!”

  A frightening calm settled over Konig’s face. “You’re rejecting me.”

  “You earned it,” she snapped. And then, more frighteningly, Marion rounded on Nori. “Take me back! I need to get back to Sheol right this moment!”

  Nori hesitated. She glanced at Konig.

  That glance was enough to make Marion completely lose it. She gave a frustrated scream and the icy roof of the throne room cracked.

  Marion stalked toward the hallway leading toward the bedrooms. “Stay the hell away from me!” she screamed over her shoulder.

  When she slammed the door, frost showered around Nori.

  Oh my gods.

  It wasn’t the first time Nori had seen Konig and Marion fight like that, but it was the first time since Marion had woken up without her memories—and the first time they’d had such a fight in a palace made completely of ice.

  “Yes, go ahead and leave!” Konig shouted at the door that Marion had slammed. He ripped a giant sword off of his back and jabbed it into the air, as though piercing the heart of an imaginary Marion. “Leave! I don’t need the likes of you!”

  He hurled the sword into the wall. The point embedded into the ice so deep that a foot of its blade vanished.

  Nori flinched. She couldn’t help but squeal a little, too.

  The tiny sound made Konig whip around to glare at her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was inspecting the wards on the towers. It’s been so cold…and…and…” He wouldn’t care about that. She thought about telling him of Dana McIntyre’s call, but she doubted that Konig would be interested in that, either. “I’m sorry. I’ll check in on the refugees.”

  She made it halfway to the doors before Konig said, “No.”

  He stalked toward her. It took all of Nori’s strength not to move or meet his eyes. It was dangerous to meet the prince’s eyes when he was in a mood like that. He’d had his servants tossed into the dungeons for less.

  “I saved her life, and this is what she does to me,” Konig said. “It’s insane. It’s irrational!”

  “I agree,” Nori said.

  “Marion doesn’t care about saving the Winter Court from war. All those refugees—she would see them dead before she’d let her memories slip from her fingers! And why? Because she wants to remember, or because the pursuit of that moronic Canope gives her the opportunity to be with Seth?”

  Nori was holding Dana’s papers so hard that they crumpled.

  She didn’t know what to say.

  “I’m looking for answers, Nori,” Konig said savagely. “Speak to me!”

  After a deep breath, Nori managed to speak. “Marion has always been selfish. I don’t know what she wants this time, but…it’s all about her needs, not the needs of the court.” Her stomach flipped. “She doesn’t deserve you.”

  Something shifted in Konig’s face. “No. She doesn’t.”

  Time held still between them. She stared up at him and he stared down at her, as though seeing Nori—again—for the first time. It wasn’t only admiration for her evolving thought processes in his expression now. He wasn’t thinking about how smart Nori was.

  His thoughts were much more animal.

  “She has no idea how many ways she could die in Sheol,” Konig said. “I’m the one who defeated Arawn. I’m the one who killed dozens of demons to free her from the tower.”

  “She should be grateful,” Nori said.

  “She should, but she’s not.” He clutched at her shoulders, gripping so hard that Nori was nearly wrenched off of her feet. She was short for someone of ethereal descent, and shorter still compared to Konig. “You’re grateful, aren’t you?”

  Nori only had to nod.

  He dragged her against his chest, and his lips crashed into hers, icy cold and desperate. Dana McIntyre’s papers tumbled from her arms. She wrapped herself around him—arms around neck, legs around hips. He lifted her effortlessly. She was giddy at his touch, dizzy with the promise of it.

  A prince. A sidhe prince.

  Of all the times that Nori had participated in Autumn Court parties, she had never joined with a sidhe who made her skin ache like Konig did.

  She also hadn’t joined with a sidhe who was involved in an exclusive relationship with her cousin.

  “Wait,” Nori said, breaking the kiss.

  And he said, “No. It’s been too long. I won’t wait longer.”

  The throne room bent around them, bowing from the position where the two of them stood. Konig jerked both of them through the ley lines into the bedroom he’d chosen for himself. He all but tossed Nori onto the bed and then collapsed atop her, his weight suspended on his elbows.

  He bit at her neck. “Tell me you want me.”

  “I want you,” Nori said. She’d never said anything truer in her life.

  “Tell me you need me,” Konig said.

  Nori wasn’t sure that was true, but she would tell him anything to get him to continue kissing her like that. “I need you, Konig—Prince ErlKonig of the Autumn Court.”

  He made a savage, needy noise deep in his throat, and together, they rolled across the bed.

  In the king’s bedchamber, the cold couldn’t touch Nori.

  * * *

  Nori had never seen a body as glorious as that of Prince ErlKonig’s, and never one in such a lush setting as the oiled skins and furs of the king’s bed. The prince was lying back on the pillows, head propped up on one arm as he languorously blew fog into the air, his hot breath creating billows above his face.

  Sculptures dangled over the massive bed, like an elaborate chandelier made of icicles. Nori and Konig’s combined body heat was making them melt so that they slowly, steadily dripped chilly water onto her naked back.

  She rested her chin on his chest, stroking along the lines of his pectorals with a fingernail. His skin still glistened with sweat and magic.

  And it was hers. All hers.

  At some point in the near future, Nori was going to have to think of a way to break this to Marion. She’d have to think about the implications that it would have for her relationship with the Autumn Court, the ethereal delegation, and Marion herself.

  For now, she only wanted to rest on Konig and admire him.

  “What are you thinking about?” Nori asked, tracing a circle on his ribcage.

  “Marion,” he said.

  Nori sat up, tugging the furs into her naked lap to try to stave off the chill. “Me too.”

  “If you have any ideas of how to make her see reason, I’m all ears,” Konig said.

  She laughed uneasily. “Reason? About what?”

  “Marriage, of course.”

  The warmth of the afterglow was gone so quickly that she physically shivered. “But…we just…”

  “Yes, we made love, and it doesn’t change anything.” Konig pushed up on his elbows, gazing at her with violet eyes that seemed more like sapphires in the icy bedroom. “You don’t think that I’d endanger the Winter Court for this, do you?”

  It seemed a hell of a lot like that was exactly what he’d done.

  Nori slid out of bed. Her underwear was ruined, so she pulled her slacks on without them. “I suppose I assumed—”

  �
�I’m unseelie,” he said. “Sex is only an avenue to magic, which you provided excellently. Thank you. I feel much better. It’s otherwise meaningless.”

  “I wonder if Marion would agree,” Nori said.

  “You’re not going to tell her. Pull the stick out of your ethereal ass, Nori. It’s only sex.” He rolled onto his belly, resting his chin on his hands. “Besides, you’re the one who pointed out that Marion and I needed to get married.”

  But that was before Konig had done things to Nori that no man had done before—at least, not in those particular ways. She burned with humiliation to have thought it was special. Nori had hooked up with several sidhe in the Autumn Court without making that mistake. Why was it different with Konig? Especially when the stakes were so high.

  She pulled her shirt on over her head. She was composed again by the time her head popped out. “You’re right.”

  He was an asshole, but he was right.

  “It’s a shame you’re not the steward,” Konig said as he watched her dress. “You’re so much more reasonable than Marion.” Nori wrapped herself in furs, pulling them around her chin to conceal her blushing. “My princess and I are lucky we’ll have you as our lead advisor when we rule together.”

  Advisor to the rulers of the Winter Court? Well, there were worse things than that.

  Better things too.

  But she didn’t have better things. She didn’t have Konig, with the long line of his muscular back leading into his well-shaped posterior, which she had been admiring ever since she’d started working for the Autumn Court.

  “I’ll talk to Marion,” Nori said. “I’m sure she’ll come to her senses.”

  Konig swept the hair out of his face, shooting a smile at her that was pure sex. “Come here.”

  Hesitantly, she obeyed, bending over the bed to reach him. Konig’s kiss sparked electricity over her lips. When she started to draw back, he held her in place with a hand on her throat.

  “Thank you, Nori,” he murmured against her lips.

  Her heart was pounding when he released her.

  * * *

  Nori wasn’t sure how she made it out of the king’s bedroom, and she wasn’t sure if anyone saw her leaving. Minutes later, she found herself in front of Marion’s door unaware of how she’d gotten there and too numb to feel when she knocked.

  Marion’s voice echoed from within. “Enter.”

  Nori edged into the room.

  Konig had selected one of the smaller bedrooms for Marion—not a set of royal rooms, but a special apartment where seelie children had once lived. It was the one place where trees could grow, and the air was at least twenty degrees.

  The mage girl was sitting under one of those magicked trees, knees hugged to her chest, her hair frizzed from the moisture in the air.

  Nori stood a few feet away, waiting to see if Marion would know what had happened. Marion had read Nori’s mind more than once in the past.

  Yet Marion seemed barely aware of Nori’s presence, much less interested in her thoughts. “Gods, Nori,” Marion said into her knees. “I’m so stupid. I’m so, so stupid.”

  Nori sat beside her. There was a time that Marion would have recoiled at having an ethereal Gray so close, but this lobotomized version of the steward leaned into Nori’s touch.

  Marion still wasn’t herself. She wasn’t the woman that the Winter Court needed—or the woman that Konig needed, for that matter.

  Nori took Marion’s hand, trying to rub warmth into her chilly fingers. “Marion…”

  She should have been talking Marion into wedding Konig.

  It had been Nori’s idea in the first place, after all. And she’d promised Konig she would help convince Marion. Even now, Nori believed that getting Konig on the throne beside Marion was best for everyone.

  So why was it so hard to speak?

  Marion lifted her head. Her eyes were puffy, cheeks wet. “Did you know that Seth wants to kill me?”

  That wasn’t remotely the direction that Nori had expected the conversation to take. “Are we talking metaphorically or literally?”

  “Very, very literally,” Marion said. “Genesis changed him, and it’s given him these killing urges, which seem to be fixated on me. That’s why he’s so desperate to talk to the gods.”

  “So he’s been using you,” Nori said.

  “No. That’s the thing. He wouldn’t even tell me what he needed. He’s been keeping it a secret to try to protect me.”

  “Protect you from…him?”

  “From whatever the stupid gods did to him,” she said. “Why do you think he wouldn’t have told me what he was struggling with?”

  Nori imagined that was a rhetorical question, but she ventured a guess anyway, erring on righteous indignation on Marion’s behalf. “Because he doesn’t trust you?”

  “It’s not his fault. He’s been alone for so long—he doesn’t know how to trust anymore.” She lifted the statuette she had been using to contact Nori. “Look at what I’ve been working on.”

  The statuette had changed. It no longer glowed with magic that spoke directly to Nori. It audibly hummed, glittering as though its surface had caught starlight.

  “You changed the summoning spell,” Nori said, startled. “I thought you didn’t remember magic that complex.”

  “I don’t, but the gods are guiding me,” Marion said. “This statuette—it won’t do anything from here, in the Winter Court. But if I get back to Sheol, I can use this to bring me here again. To my bedroom, specifically.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Marion shook her head. “I just do. I’m meant to be with Seth in Sheol.” She hurled her robe onto the bed and fumbled to grab her quiver. “If Konig won’t take me back, I’ll find someone who will.”

  “I’ll take you,” Nori said.

  Marion’s eyes filled with such hopeful light that it physically pained Nori. “You will?”

  “Of course. I’m your assistant.” She smiled tremulously. “I live to serve.”

  “Gods, you’re the best.” Marion slung her bow over her shoulders and crammed a pair of slender-armed spectacles onto the bridge of her nose. “But what about Konig?”

  “Don’t worry,” Nori said. “I’ll take care of everything.”

  16

  Seth’s path through Duat was clear.

  He walked on streets of crumbled obsidian, passing between buildings with empty windows. He sensed demons everywhere: behind the narrow alleys, within structures that might represent a marketplace, and lurking in the shadows beneath iron trees.

  Duat had been recently filled with life. Trash blew through the streets, and lights extinguished in windows when he got near. The residents were hiding from Seth.

  From the corner of his eye, he caught flashes of white. Every time he tried to focus, though, he didn’t see anything.

  The only white things he’d seen near Duat were the Hounds.

  They were following Seth.

  Hunting.

  None attacked or even approached.

  They wanted him to reach the temple, and the Canope within.

  The Hounds and demons weren’t the only ones who wanted Seth to reach the temple. He felt as though invisible hands were holding his shoulders. They pushed him ever forward, ensuring he couldn’t change his mind and go back.

  It was destiny propelling him onward.

  He was meant to be there, in that moment, walking that exact path.

  The fact that the dark environment felt so familiar to Seth was more disturbing than the spindly arches of the demon architecture. He’d never been to Hell before Genesis, and he certainly hadn’t been to Sheol since. Seth had never specialized in demons. He’d been a werewolf hunter, and, eventually, a werewolf guardian.

  Sheol should have been frightening.

  It shouldn’t have felt like a quiet homecoming.

  The only problem was how lonely he felt. Destiny was satisfied to have him there, but he shouldn’t have been on his own. Marion shoul
d have been locked to his side. Yin and yang, positive and negative, half-angel and…whatever Seth had become in Genesis.

  But he didn’t regret sending her away.

  None of Duat’s residents disturbed Seth on his long, winding path through the ghost town. Not until he reached the base of the temple.

  There were seemingly thousands of crumbling black steps bridging the distance between street and temple, but he couldn’t start climbing. A figure stood in his path.

  It was the gondolier again.

  She lifted her hood, exposing a skull from which two curved horns grew. Shining opals dangled from the tips. Without the shadow of her hood, he could see that she had opals embedded along her cheekbones, too. A necklace of metal bones glimmered on chains looped around her neck.

  He could now see her the way she may have looked in earlier days, before the illusion of a human form rotted away and left her a skeleton. She would have been a beautiful and noble demon.

  Now she was a husk.

  “Nyx, I take it,” Seth said. She was the other Lord of Sheol that Arawn had been talking to on his palantír, and she’d been following Seth around ever since he’d entered the Nether Worlds.

  “Goddess of Night, Lord of Sheol, Daughter of Phlegethon,” Nyx said. “I am she. I’ve slept so long in wait for you.”

  Seth imagined that news should have surprised him, but he could still feel the pounding of fate within his veins.

  Everything was predestined and nothing was unexpected.

  “This is your final opportunity, Seth,” Nyx said. “Turn back and leave. Leave the Canope. Forget its existence.”

  “I can’t,” he said.

  Nyx drifted from the stairs, settling on the ground before him with a wave of smoke billowing out from her robe. She flashed bony legs as she glided forward. “I’ll allow you to save the revenant if you leave the Canope.”

  “You will? Isn’t Charity your prisoner?”

  “She belongs to Arawn. My only interest in her is using the revenant as leverage to drive you from Sheol,” Nyx said. “You must trust me when I say you should leave the Canope for your own good. I have your best interests at heart, Seth.”