The Leopard King

by Ann Aguirre

  “My equipment is shit, so I had to do a lot of manual analysis, and I think I’ve come up with a similar compound, but it won’t do much more than buy him time if the various dosages are off, even in minuscule amounts. There may also be unforeseen side effects, as I’m nowhere near proficient in Golgoth physiology, let alone treating their ailments. Finally, and I know I sound like I’m excusing failure, but I’m not a fucking chemist. The only chemist we had died in the first blast.”

  “I’m sorry,” Pru said softly.

  “I don’t feel good about this.” Sheyla stared at the pale liquid in the vials on the counter. “It’s like I’m setting him up for a slow poisoning. I should’ve run tests on him first, examined him fully, analyzed his physical condition—”

  “There was no time for that. I’ll ask the prince to cooperate with you in getting that done now that we have a little breathing room.”

  So little. We have a would-be king with an undisclosed illness who doesn’t really want to wage war against his brother. But from what Alastor had said, he understood that it was the only road that led to survival. Eventually Sheyla sighed and inclined her head.

  “I’m aware the circumstances aren’t ideal. I guess if I accidentally kill his last rival, Tycho may be merciful when he rolls over us.”

  “But I doubt it,” Pru muttered.

  “I won’t hold my breath. If you’ll excuse me, I need to check on Jase.”

  “Can I come with you? I’ll just pop in for a minute.”

  “Of course. Glynnis was with him while Jilly was napping, so he hasn’t been alone long.”

  With all her heart, Pru wished she could sit by Jase’s side and talk to him nonstop, but with war looming just outside the gates, she could only steal these moments. Please don’t let that inhibit his recovery. Though Sheyla strode in boldly to check his vitals, Pru paused in the doorway, her heart wrenching for the boy who might not even know he’d lost his parents. He looked so small in the hospital bed. Once Sheyla finished, Pru sat down in the chair near Jase’s bed.

  “I wish I could spend more time in here. You have to wake up soon, all right? We miss you. Jilly needs you.”

  His fingers flickered, and she wrapped his small hand in hers. Sheyla said, “Don’t read too much into that. It could be involuntary.”

  “But I’ve heard that comatose patients can sometimes hear everything people say.”

  “That’s not something I can validate… but just in case, try to stay cheerful.”

  Pru spent five minutes longer talking to Jase, but apart from that first flex of his fingers, he didn’t respond to her voice. She kissed him on the forehead in farewell, and whispered, “You’re a proper warrior. Thank you for surviving.”

  With that, she slipped out, so that the steady beeping from the machines keeping him alive faded to the quick footfalls of the medical staff hurrying to and fro. Was Prince Alastor at the party? She couldn’t recall seeing him, but she swung by the park to check. The desperate merriment gladdened her heart, but it was a melancholy sweetness. Beneath the determined cheer lay the frantic fear that they could lose everything—not just Ash Valley—but Burnt Amber and Pine Ridge, along with the Eldritch and Golgoth territories.

  We have to keep Alastor alive long enough to rally support against Tycho.

  That was a shitty reason for helping someone, she knew. But her urgency didn’t abate as she searched the dancers keeping warm the best way possible, hands in the air, and unlikely couples paired up in the music-rich dark. She spotted Alastor curled up near the fire, a few of his men close enough to intervene if anyone went after him, but the mood was mellow since Princess Thalia’s arrival. The flickering flames painted Alastor in diabolical hues, but those colors somehow only made the prince seem more delicate.

  “Have you come to deliver me from my self-imposed exile?” he asked.

  “I suppose I have.” She passed him the treatment Sheyla had devised, then imparted all the caveats and warnings the doctor had shared.

  “If you wanted me dead, there are more direct means. I’ve gambled my life on lesser matters, so why not?” He hefted the case and shook his head with evident bemusement.

  “Something’s funny?”

  “You want me alive much more than my own people, that’s all.” By tone and expression, he tried to sell the idea that he was fine with that.

  Only Pru wasn’t buying it. Before she could dig into his feigned indifference, the sound of heavy weapons boomed, silencing the music. The festive scene devolved into leaders calling orders and a lightning-fast response from the warriors.

  With a sardonic twist of his mouth, Alastor said, “Looks like the party’s over, and I didn’t even get to dance.”

  “They’re shelling the walls, and if they find the breach points we patched up, we’ll have a thousand Golgoth inside our gates.” Dom couldn’t believe how aggressive and driven the enemy was, especially since they’d just been defeated, but he had two royals inside the hold, so that was probably why. If they take out Thalia and Alastor, resistance among the Eldritch crumbles and the Golgoth are united.

  “Give me intel,” Slay shouted.

  The sentry on the wall scoped out the situation as best he could. “They’re limited on heavy weapons. Right now, it’s only two guys on a C-TAK firing shells, but they’re working on the princess’s fleet. If they get those vehicles running, I think they mean to ram the gates.”

  “It won’t happen.” Suddenly Princess Thalia was beside him, tapping away at her phone.

  Thirty seconds later, a series of booms rocked the ground. With a grim look, she said, “How many did I take out in sacrificing my tech?”

  Dom shouted the question, and the scout replied, “At least fifty.”

  “It’s a start. How are we handling this, pride master? Your walls don’t look sound enough for a long siege.”

  He practically snarled, “They were better before all the bombs went off.”

  To his surprise, her eyes dropped away. “My father’s doing. I’m still collecting information about what went wrong, but I’ll have answers soon.”

  “That can wait. This can’t.” Dom gestured at the chaos.

  At the moment, each faction leader was giving his or her own instructions, but that didn’t make for an organized resistance. Dom wanted that job about as much as a punch in the face, but somebody had to do it, and he had three compelling reasons to step up. One—it was his home ground to defend, and he knew the terrain best. Two—he had failed his people enough, so while he might not be the hero they deserved, he’d give his best. Three—he had to protect Pru; no way he’d leave it to anyone else.

  Mind made up, he sent runners to collect the others: Raff, Callum, Alastor. Thalia stuck close to him, constantly in contact with her people via radio and phone, until the signal went out. A scout reported the enemy must be using scramblers, and Dom didn’t stop cursing for like five minutes. We can’t hold out long if they keep hammering us with the C-TAK.

  “We don’t have a lot of time to debate, so I just need to ratify this with a show of hands. My realm, my rules. I’m open to suggestions, but from this point on, I’m in charge of this offensive. Any questions?” He made eye contact with the other leaders in turn.

  “No objections,” Raff said as a shell exploded.

  The Eldritch princess shook her head. “It only makes sense.”

  Both Callum and Alastor kept quiet, which he took for tacit assent. He hadn’t known the bear long enough to have a good handle on his personality, but he seemed slow and steady whereas the Golgoth prince was a study in contrasts, one moment flippant, somber the next. As long as they acknowledged his authority and deployed their forces accordingly, that was enough.

  Callum said, “The Order of Saint Casimir stands with you. I can’t call any reinforcements from the north, as they’re already fighting.”

  Dom inclined his head. “I understand if you need to withdraw and defend your territory. We’ll hold on here long enough t
o keep these bastards from pushing north.”

  “These ‘bastards’ are my people,” Prince Alastor said in a deceptively mild tone.

  The wolf lord took a step forward, one hand on the hilt of his weapon. “And they’re murdering us.”

  Can’t let that continue. But Dom decided to see how the Golgoth prince would handle the situation. If necessary, I can always step in.

  “That’s because they’re raised on a cocktail of dominance and aggression. It doesn’t mean they all want to ride to conquer. In our world…” A muscle ticked in Alastor’s jaw, then he bit off whatever else he might have said. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s focus on preventing Ash Valley from being utterly destroyed.”

  “What’s the plan?” Slay asked, snatching the segue.

  Dom appreciated his friend more than ever, as the other leaders locked on to the discussion. “We send a strike force, the stealthiest bastards we’ve got.”

  “And they take out the C-TAK?” his second guessed.

  There was no need to confirm the obvious. “Who do we have ready for action?”

  Quickly, they assembled a team, comprised of the pride’s best scouts, a few wolves, and the best of the Noxblades, including Gavriel. “Let’s go.”

  Slay grabbed his arm. “Hold up. You can’t lead this one personally.”

  “Bullshit I can’t.”

  “Think for a minute. You just got everyone to acknowledge that you’re running the show. In what world does it make sense for you to handle the op yourself?”

  “He’s right,” Raff said unexpectedly. “It’s worse for me, sending my men into danger, but it doesn’t always make sense to lead from the front.”

  If he’d just scolded Pru for proving herself, he couldn’t insist on doing the same out of some misguided desire to establish that he was still strong enough to head up the pride. Protecting his people didn’t necessarily mean destroying enemy war machines with his bare hands, either; it counted if he made good decisions and minimized loss of life at every opportunity. It just doesn’t feel brave. Recognizing that his desire to command the force personally rose from an ego in need of boosting, he conceded the point with a sigh.

  “Fine, you do it, Slay. You’re a better stalker than Mags. No offense,” he added to the security chief, who shrugged. Even she knew it was true; she was the natural choice when you wanted a target exterminated with extreme prejudice. Slay, on the other hand, excelled at the stalk and kill, maybe not quite at a Noxblade level, but he was the best the pride had on offer.

  “We’ll go out the side door. I need half the squad on diversion. The rest of us will take out the C-TAK.”

  “My crew has ordnance,” Callum said. “Sounds like you could use it.”

  “Please,” Slay answered.

  An itchy feeling crawled down Dom’s back, and he followed the stealth-op team to the side exit. So far, there were no hostiles here, but it wouldn’t take long for Golgoth scouts to report back on all the potential entrances. The guards in the staging area were all tight and tense, waiting for that engagement. The C-TAK kept up its barrage, weakening the wall with each strike, and if they didn’t get those guns shut down, there would be breach in under an hour. The war priest, Callum, met the squad with the promised firepower, but it was more than they could carry. We’ll put this to good use from the inside. At some point, he really needed to learn more about the Order of Saint Casimir.

  After the distraction team geared up, he faced the whole crew. “You don’t need me to spell out what we’re up against. So I’ll just tell you not to be heroes and to get the job done.”

  The squad all saluted Dom, even the Noxblades. Gavriel met his gaze for an extended moment, and the team followed Slay out into the darkness. He partnered up with Callum to get some of that ordinance on the walls. The C-TAK was too far for traditional weapons, and he didn’t want to leave his people vulnerable for long. Already heavy caliber ammo peppered the ramparts, forcing his own shooters into cover time and again.

  Dom checked his watch, counting down the seconds, and the diversionary team executed right on schedule. Orange lit up the horizon, along with a series of booms. Here we go. From his vantage, he watched the C-TAK go up in a fireball, taking out a good number of invaders in the resultant explosion. Yes. That’s how we do it, and just in fucking time too. The stealth crew knew to head straight back, avoiding the enemy wherever possible. Hit and run. There’s no reason to engage their main force. Most of the stealth squad made it back, but for some reason, Gavriel was leading them.

  “What happened?” he demanded.

  “I don’t know,” the Noxblade said. “We encountered resistance near the wall and we had to cut a path.” Pru appeared just in time to hear Gavriel deliver news that chilled Dom’s blood. “We scoured the area, but we didn’t find his body.”

  Slay was just fucking gone.

  27.

  Fear had a hold of Pru’s throat, but she couldn’t sink down and cry. With Dom staring at her, that was the last thing she should do. So she fell into her role as pride matron. “You did the right thing in coming back,” she told Gavriel. “Your unit wasn’t designated for a full-frontal assault, and there’s still a lot of Golgoth out there.”

  Please, let Slay be safe.

  Even if she’d passed the point of wanting to build a life with him, she had sweet memories of their time together, and she wanted him home, like any pride mate. Probably more, she admitted silently. Fortunately Gavriel chose that moment to make a formal report on the strike they’d executed. The timing must be coincidental, but she appreciated the opportunity to collect herself.

  “We lost four, counting Slay. Took out easily twice our number, more if you count the ones that died when the princess detonated her fleet. Another fifteen or so when we blew up the C-TAK. But there are hundreds of Golgoth swarming,” Gavriel concluded.

  “This isn’t the main force,” Alastor said.

  “Damn. How many are there?” Raff wondered aloud.

  “I told you that it’s different among my people. We don’t have soldiers. We’re all warriors, so any Golgoth well enough to walk is expected to march on the king’s command.”

  The wolf lord stared for a long moment, as if he suspected the prince of some elaborate joke. “That sounds hellish.”

  “Welcome to my world,” Alastor said.

  “Would your brother be mad enough to empty his own capital?” Callum asked.

  “In a word? Yes.” Alastor met the war priest’s gaze squarely, evidence of his honesty.

  So we might be facing that many? Damn.

  “Regardless, we have to stop this from turning into a siege,” Dom cut in.

  “The Order of Saint Casimir is ready,” said Callum.

  Yeah, it’s about time to deploy the war bears.

  Pru squared her shoulders, amazed that she could sound so authoritative with her heart aching over Slay’s vanishing act. “This isn’t the time to be stingy with our resources. We need to make it clear that Ash Valley isn’t a soft target.”

  “Some breathing room would be good,” Dom said.

  His gaze skittered away from hers, however, rousing a vague sense of unease. The moment passed in a flurry of strategizing. All the leaders agreed that they needed to follow the stealth strike with a ferocious offensive; otherwise the Golgoth would have the chance to regroup. If they could crush the enemy here, that would buy them some time to organize a proper resistance and get in touch with other settlements.

  “We’ll need to send messengers,” Princess Thalia said.

  “Unless we take out their jammers.” But Pru had no idea where they’d secured the tech, and they couldn’t spare personnel to wander the woods with scanners.

  “One thing at a time.” Raff patted her on the shoulder in what was meant to be a comforting gesture, and Dom threaded between them, his arm encircling her shoulder.

  “Let’s finalize the battle plan,” Callum said.

  That took a good half an hour, but at
the end of the session, Pru felt confident they could bring the fight to the Golgoth in a decisive fashion. As she moved to follow Magda, Dom’s hand tightened on her shoulder. She tilted her head with an inquiring look while the others hustled to complete all the preparations.

  “Are you up to this?” By the complex layers of his expression, the question wasn’t as simple as it sounded.

  “You don’t want me fighting?”

  “It’s not that, exactly.”

  The pause told her nothing. “Then what’s the issue?”

  “I just… I need to be sure you’re going out for the right reasons—that you’re in a good place mentally.”

  “You think I plan to slip off and search for Slay?” Only that suspicion made sense, given Dom’s awkwardness, his hesitance, and the way his eyes dropped, like he’d done something wrong by standing here while Slay was—

  Missing. It hurt to breathe.

  “You don’t?” Dom asked.

  “I’m worried. There’s no point in denying it. But it won’t help him or the pride if I get myself killed. If I spot him, I’ll do my best to bring him back, but I won’t go off target and endanger everyone else.” Pru raised a brow, hoping she had set his mind at ease.

  He didn’t seem entirely relaxed, but he bent to kiss her and managed a smile. “In case things go sideways.”

  “Don’t say things like that. I’m nervous enough already.”

  “You realize you’re making it harder for me to be supportive and let you go. With every fiber of me, I want to fight with you.”

  Pru wrapped her arms around Dom’s waist, squeezing him tight. “You can’t. With Slay gone, it makes way more sense for Mags to lead our forces.”

  “Because I’m the irreplaceable pride master.”

  “You represent stability,” she corrected. “And yes, you’re irreplaceable too.”

  “Be careful, kitten.”

  This time, when he kissed her, it felt like he meant it. He cupped her face in his hands and took her mouth with a sweetness and hunger that curled her toes, even under these circumstances. When Pru pulled back, she was breathless. She couldn’t look at him, or she might not have the courage to play her role in defending Ash Valley. She ran to catch up with the rest of the pride warriors without looking back.