Wicked Queen (The Royals: Witch Court Book 5)

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Wicked Queen (The Royals: Witch Court Book 5) Page 4

by Megan Montero


  Together we moved as one, spinning and slashing out with our blades. Tuck wrapped his arm around my waist and tossed me up into the air just as another monster dove right at me. My stomach twisted into knots and I spun feet over head. I kicked out with my legs and arms, hitting whatever was around me. I dropped back down toward him and fell right into Tuck’s arm. “Got ya.”

  He plopped me onto my feet and I shoved his shoulder, spinning him around. “Behind you.”

  Tucker ran at the gargoyle, the two playing a game of chicken. The creature opened its mouth and tucked its wings in tight to its body, diving straight at Tuck. He launched himself up into the air and flipped over the gargoyle, landing on its back. He stabbed his sword down into its neck. The thing hit the ground and skidded to a halt at my feet. Tuck hopped off it like he was walking down from the last step in a stairwell. The corner of his lip pulled up in that half cocky grin I loved so much.

  Before I could reach him a new set of creatures ran at us. The group steadily closed their circle around us, blocking us from moving forward. They surrounded us on all sides and were closing in fast. I held my blades up, ready to take on the next one that came forward. Instead, they moved as one, all taking a step in, then another. My heart raced in my chest and sweat broke out over my palms.

  Tuck’s breaths heaved in and out. Flames erupted from the blade of his sword. “Any bright ideas?”

  No. “Maybe one.” I forced my blades back to where I summoned them from and opened up my powers. They flowed over my body and down my arms. Silvery magic twinkled in my hair and in the palms of my hands. The Titan potion ran strong in my veins, so strong I used it to amplify my own gifts. I held both of my hands out and sucked in a deep breath. “Sentinels from a high guided by fate. Freeze in time and return to the state when guarding Heaven’s gate. Alive no more turn to stone frozen in time to leave us alone.”

  My magic exploded out of me like a bomb. Wave after wave of silver moved over the encroaching creatures. Tucker threw his arm over his face and planted his feet as wind from my spell blew over the field we stood in. The gargoyles went from charging like bulls to moving in slow motion. Tuck stood up straight and looked around at my handiwork. The spell used the Titan power coursing through my veins. I felt it begin to weaken, but I’d be damned before I left here without having the sword blessed. It was the reason we were going through this. I sucked in a deep breath. “What now?”

  “Now we make our way there.” He pointed toward the bowl of heavenly fire and the doorway at the bottom of the tower it sat on. Bright white light glimmered from the entrance, beckoning us. But it was at least the length of a football field away. The gargoyles crawled toward us, still hunting and seeking.

  I summoned my blades back to my hands. “Then we better go. I’m not sure how long this spell will hold them off.”

  Tuck spun his sword in his hand and waved me forward. “Follow me.”

  He ducked under a slow-moving claw, then around another mouth. It was like a gentle ballet. We both spun, leapt, and slid our way around the flock of creatures. Sweat beaded over my forehead. Halfway through the field, the gargoyles’ movements began to speed up. “Tuck?”

  “Keep going. We have to move faster.”

  This was like climbing through a kids’ jungle gym at a play place. I was crawling on the ground, twisting my body into places it didn’t fit, all the while avoiding claws and teeth. My shirt caught on one of their claws. It tore a gaping hole across the fabric on my torso. Another one dropped its claw down on my calf, pinning my leg to the ground. “They’re waking up. The spell isn’t holding.”

  Another gargoyle wrapped its arms around Tuck’s stomach and shoved him to the ground. Tuck drove his sword up through its stomach and it broke into a million pieces and dust over him. He shot to his feet, brushing the debris from his chest and eyes. “Come on.” Flaming wings shot from his back and he was at my side in a flash.

  Tuck wrapped his arms around my waist and yanked me up against his chest. “Hold on.”

  I threw my arms around his neck then hopped up, wrapping my legs around his waist. He pressed his fingers into my hip, holding me closer. Heat from his inner inferno seeped into my skin. With a single flap of his wings we were airborne. The creatures followed in our wake. Tuck barrel rolled to the side, dodging two more that came right at us. They swarmed like killer bees, surrounding us and chasing us at the same time. We were knocked to the side and thrown off our course. Tuck whirled and twisted, dodging as best as he could.

  He went straight up into the air then flipped over and dove toward the blinding light shining out of the doorway. The wind whipped past me, making my eyes water. Locks of my hair blew back from my face. The entrance was so narrow there was no way we would fit through. I looked behind us, watching dozens of gargoyles flying in his wake. I pressed my face down into his shoulder. “Tuck!”

  “This is gonna be tight.” He pulled his wings in and curved his body around mine. One of the monsters swiped its claw out, catching Tuck across his back. We spun like a tornado through the air. My stomach twisted into knots. Tuck’s back slammed into the doorway exploding it inward. I was thrown from his grasp. My body struck into the cold stone floor and skidded across it. Beside me Tuck too slid over the hard surface.

  My body felt like I’d been riding a rollercoaster with no harness, then shot out of a cannon and thrown across a cement floor. Without the Titan potion in my blood I was sure all my bones would’ve been broken. I curled onto my side, feeling the bruises already begin to form. “Ugh, that’s going to leave a mark.”

  “What an interesting entrance you’ve made into our world, Siphon Queen.”

  Chapter 5

  Tucker

  I lurched to my feet, feeling like I’d been hit by a train. The claw marks in my back burned and drops of warmth ran down my body . . . blood. I hurried over to where Zinnia lay curled on her side. I bent down and pressed my hand to her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  “Ugh, that’s definitely going to leave a mark.” She squeezed tighter into a ball then pressed her hands to the white marble floor and pushed her upper body off the floor.

  “Shocking you actually made it past the protectors of the light.”

  I looked up into the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. They were the color of the sky on a cloudless day. The man—no, the angel stood over Zinnia and me with his sword drawn. He was nearly seven feet tall with muscle on top of muscle. His oversized white wings fanned out behind him. The point of the sword was only a few inches away from my chin. I gazed up the long gleaming white metal that ended in a hilt made of solid gold. Pictures of angels battling grotesque demons were carved into the gold. Power rolled off the sword in waves. This was a sword others cowed to. They fell before the angel could even take a swing.

  The angel held the sword with strong, sure hands. If he swung, he would not miss. His golden blond hair was parted down the center of his head and fell straight down past his chiseled jaw to just above his shoulders. When I first met Kane I saw him as a perfect warrior, with pure white robes and spotless appearance. This angel before me was anything but that. He looked more like he belonged with Matteaus and a biker gang. Like he’d seen some things no one else should. He wasn’t dressed in pristine white robes. Instead, he wore silver armor with long golden spikes sticking out of it from his shoulders and forearms. White material hung from the bottom of his armor. Even his legs were covered in chain metal and thick boots ran over his calves and up to his knees.

  I grabbed Zinnia’s arms and pulled her up to stand next to me. “I’m not.” I bowed my head slightly. “With respect, Michael. I knew we would get to exactly where we needed to be.”

  “You know my name, Phoenix?” He kept his sword pointed right at us.

  “Michael? As in the archangel leader of the heavenly army?” Zinnia gasped and whispered, “Do we bow? I feel like we should bow.”

  We stood in the middle of a circular room with gleaming white walls and hard
white marble flooring. There were five throne-like seats spread around the perimeter of the room facing the center. It was a knight of the round table situation without the table. Zinnia and I were the centerpiece. Four other angels occupied the other seats. The only one not taken was the one behind where Michael stood.

  “I don’t believe bowing will be necessary, Siphon Queen.” The angel who spoke leaned back in his chair and studied her with a curious regard. He was equally big as Michael, yet lacked the muscle mass. His hair was a soft chocolate brown and fanned back from his face in soft waves. He, along with the four other angels, were dressed in regal white robes that ran from their shoulders down to the ground. Though each of them held a weapon of some sort at their sides, they didn’t compare to Michael’s or Matteaus’ rolling power. The angel pressed his hand to his chest. “I am Zadkiel. Angel of mercy.”

  He motioned to Michael. “Michael you already know.” Then to the angel behind him with white blond hair and sharp look. “Azrael, angel of death.”

  Death pointed his finger right at my chest. “Have you come for a second round, Phoenix?” Then he turned his gaze on Zinnia. “Or are you here to steal more feathers from the benevolent?”

  Red tinged Zinnia’s cheeks. Was it only yesterday that I’d fought side by side with Matteaus to distract Azrael long enough for Zinnia to steal one of his feathers? Zinnia glanced from me to Azrael and back again. “I’m sorry for what we did, but we saw no other way to get us here.”

  Death leaned forward in his chair. “And now you seek my favor, after yesterday’s incident?” His white blond hair fell over his shoulder and he narrowed his eyes down at her. His wings popped out over the armrests of the chairs. A gust of wind blew Zinnia’s hair across my chest.

  “I apologize if I disrespected you in any way.” Zinnia looked down at the floor. “But if given the choice I would do it again.”

  “Such arrogance.” Death arched his eyebrow.

  “No.” Zinnia shook her head. “It’s my destiny to bring peace to Evermore, to remove Alataris from the throne. The feather from your wing was integral to this plan.”

  “Are you much like your father then? Doing whatever is necessary to get what you want no matter who you hurt?” Death crossed his arms over his chest and pursed his lips.

  Zinnia shook her head. “I’ve been asking myself the same question.”

  “Zin?” I stepped back and looked down at her. “You are nothing like him.” I believed that with all my heart and she needed to believe it too. There was so much good in her.

  “You see, that’s just it. At first I thought I was like him.” She turned from me and addressed the angels watching us. “But then I realized something. Azrael, I never would have taken a feather from you if I knew it would hurt you. Or anyone else. And that is the difference between my father and me. I would never hurt another living soul as a means to an end. No matter what.”

  “Come now, Azrael, surely you aren’t enraged over a single feather.” Zadkeil waved his hand. “If ever there was a time for mercy, now would be it. Do you not think?”

  Azrael shot to his feet. “I do not take any attack lightly. The boy raised his sword to an archangel. He sided with . . . Well, you know who.”

  Michael slid his sword into the holster at his hip. “I did find that quite impressive.” Michael spun around and took his seat. Death too plopped down into his chair. There we were surrounded by archangels and I had no idea what we were supposed to do.

  Azrael was pissed at me, Michael was impressed with me, Zadkeil wanted to forgive me, and the other two angels had yet to speak. One sat the farthest away with his head in his hands. He pressed his fingers to his temples and massaged them in rhythmic circles. “So much debate. So many messages, so many words. We need less words.”

  “Gabriel, brother?” Zadkeil sat up straight. “Are you well?”

  Gabriel and Zadkeil did indeed resemble each other. The only difference was Gabriel’s hair was nearly black and Zadkeil’s was a light brown. Zadkeil had brown eyes and Gabriel had eyes the color of grass in spring time. Gabriel nodded. “I am well. Let’s continue.”

  I never thought of what it must be like to be a heavenly messenger, but I guess there was no such thing as text messages up here and Gabriel was the angel in charge of all communication. The last angel had yet to speak and for some reason I found it difficult to even meet her eye. Beautiful didn’t come close to describing her. Long platinum blond hair curled from the top of her head all the way down past her waist. Her lips were full and cherry red. Her eyes were a calming gray. She reached out and placed her hand on Gabriel’s forearm. “Calm, brother.”

  The worry lines between Gabriel’s eyebrows immediately smoothed and he stopped pressing his fingers to his temples. “Ah, thank you, Jophiel.”

  “If only we all possessed the power of calming beauty life would be so much easier.” Michael chuckled.

  “Alas, brother, not all of us can be beautiful just as not all of us can be warriors.” Jophiel’s smile was radiant. Light seemed to glimmer from within her.

  Zinnia jabbed her elbow into my rib cage. “Stop staring.”

  Was I staring? I didn’t think I had been. I cleared my throat. “Forgive me, but could one of you please tell us why we are in this hall with you at this very moment?”

  “I should think it was obvious, Phoenix.” Death held his arms out. “We are deciding if you two are worthy of that which you seek . . . heavenly fire.”

  “They have proven to be pure of heart.” Jophiel smiled down at Zinnia and me. “They did not give in to those who have homes in their hearts.”

  “And they have shown to be keen of body.” Michael cleared his throat. “Though their entrance was not what I expected. They fought through the guardians of the light.” He leaned over and whispered down to me, “Though next time knocking would go a long way.”

  Next time? There better not be a next time. When Zinnia met my eye and raised her eyebrows at me, I knew she was thinking the same thing. What could I say to that? “Yes, sir.”

  Azrael scowled at me. “Which brings us to our last and final question. Are they pure of mind to wield such a weapon?”

  Michael unsheathed his sword and held it out in front of him. Bright light reflected off of it and onto the vaulted ceilings. “There has only been one sword strong enough to hold the blessing of heavenly fire. Yes, there have been tokens like the crown you seek to destroy but never a sword such as this. And now you wish to have that one the queen has at her side blessed? Why?”

  Zinnia stepped forward. “High King Alataris’ power is tied to the crown he wears. A crown given to the royal line by the heavens. That crown lets him rule over others. But he uses this power in a corrupt, vicious manor. We want to destroy the crown and the only thing that could do that would be a weapon of equal power. So, we’ve come to ask your permission to have this blessed.” Zinnia pulled the sword from the sheath at her hip and held it out for all to see. “To defeat my father and free Evermore from him forever.”

  “And once you’ve done that, then what?” Michael steepled his fingers together and pressed them to his lips.

  Zinnia looked at me and gave me a nod to answer the question. But what should I say to that? “And then Evermore would be free of him.”

  “Yes, but Evermore has always and will always have a royal hierarchy. It is the way the Creator designed it and it will remain that way. The Fallen rule all. The royal houses and Greeks rule their own people while answering to the Fallen. If Alataris is unseated, who then would rule the witch court?”

  “We hadn’t gotten that far in our plans, to be honest.” Zinnia slid the sword back into the sheath. “I suppose whoever the casts choose.”

  The angels all chuckled in unison. Gabriel cleared his throat and I turned to face him. “If there is no power set up to take his place, this will create a power vacuum. Wars for the throne will ensue. Lives will be lost. Lives and allies you will need for the challenges to come. Danger
s the likes of which the world has never—”

  Michael coughed into his fist. “Oversharing is a fault of yours, brother. Do try to keep it to a minimum.” He turned his steely look on us. “Who will take the throne if your plan works? Will you take it, Siphon Queen?”

  Zinnia shook her head. “I have no wish to rule the witch court.”

  “Then we respectfully decline your request.” Gabriel slashed his hands through the air then slouched back into his seat.

  In my heart I knew the throne was meant for Zinnia. She had all the makings of a queen. She was fair, just, and the right amount of cautious and gutsy. I moved closer to her. “Zin, you were born for this.”

  She shook her head. “I was born to remove Alataris from the throne, not take it.”

  Michael tilted his head back and chucked. “I forgot what it was like to hang around you mortals. I find it entertaining that you believe you know what purpose you were meant to fill. Come now, my dear, you can’t honestly think you know your destiny, what you were born to do. Yes, you were made a Queen Witch. Yes, it was to combat Alataris, but what makes you think that is all you were supposed to do? The way I see it, you’re only sixteen, mortal yes, but a witch’s life can span hundreds of years. You think you’ll fulfill your purpose by your seventeenth birthday?” He slapped his hand on his knee and laughed even harder. “Mortals, I tell ya. Such funny notions you all hold.”

  Zinnia pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at the angel. “Alataris killed his father and took the throne for himself. If I do the same, then I am no better than he is.”

  A radiant smile spread across Jophiel’s face and two perfect dimples marked her cheeks. “And yet here you are standing before a room of five archangels arguing that you should not take the throne. When in reality only a royal would dare to challenge any of us.”

  Pride coursed through my veins. Jophiel was right. Zinnia was every bit the royal I was. Perhaps even more so. I wanted to tell her to agree to become queen. I wanted her to step up and hold the title in her own right. I knew she would rule the witches with a kind heart and a wise mind, but this was something she needed to decide on her own. “I know you would make a wonderful ruler. But only if you want to. I am here for you.”

 

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