by Nikki McCoy
“Achilles.” He bowed low then moved to the steps of the dais. “I was the one who led the team to kidnap the shifter used in the spell when we first released you. I’ve been in command of your human forces and,” he paused and licked his lips, “I’m the father of the boy you’re using now.”
Within, Dhani recoiled in horror. My father, he thought. The traitor who had held him and his mother captive, giving her no choice except to abandon him after their escape. The man responsible for the death of Tailor’s first mate.
All the animosity and pain of betrayal Dhani had held for his mother paled in comparison to the hatred that rose in him now. There was no regret or even the slightest trace of concern for his son on Achilles’ face. In fact, he appeared to be glowing with pride.
I’ve been hating the wrong person, he realized. At least Laya had loved him—wanted him in spite of her mistakes. The man in front of him held no kindness in his piercing blue eyes. Only a look of avaricious satisfaction.
“It was always my hope that he could be of use to you,” Achilles went on.
“Yet, you obviously couldn’t hold onto him,” Dhani said, peeling his lips back in the God’s disgust. “If you had, my firstborn wouldn’t be alive right now to defy me. This pathetic boy is why Keenan still lives.”
Achilles’ pride faltered. “Th-that’s not my fault,” he stammered. “Dhani’s mother stole him from me before I could teach him to serve you.”
“I remember you now. You kept your mate and son locked within my walls for six years, then you lost them. Did you know your son had two spirits?”
“No. Well, I suspected, but—”
“Enough!” Dhani snapped. Roh Se Kahn’s patience was wearing thin. “Where is Vane? Why is he taking so long to teleport Keenan here? We need to perform the spell tonight.”
Inside, Dhani’s anger was stifled by a wave of apprehension. He couldn’t let Roh Se Kahn go through with his plan to activate the spell by ripping Keenan’s spirit from him and taking the ultimate revenge. Keenan’s life for the release of the rest of his father’s essence.
It had been Roh Se Kahn’s intention all along, and the reason Dhani had been reluctant to visit his friend from the start. He’d foolishly thought he could delay the God’s plan by staying away. A part of him hadn’t wanted to give up the time he’d spent with Tailor and the other part had hoped he would’ve found the strength to kill himself before Roh Se Kahn took control of his body.
He’d underestimated the God’s power, and it was going to cost Keenan his life.
Achilles glanced at the doors then back again. “Vane wanted me to tell you it’ll take a few more hours to gather the rest of the Ba’Kal needed and to decide which human’s body you will inhabit. He doesn’t want to take Keenan and alert the Magnique to our plan until everything is in order. Meanwhile, I thought we might go over how you intend to take over Miel Se Luuda’s creations, or destroy them, if that is your wish.”
Dhani stared at him warily. “I will go through with my original arrangement. Since Vane is the only one of my worthy sons still alive, he will take control of the Ba’Kal and Vam’kir once we crush their forces. I see no reason to deny what I promised him years ago.”
The lie was so thick in Roh Se Kahn’s energy, Dhani wanted to yell at his father to see the truth. Vane was nothing more than an instrument to bring about Miel Se Luuda’s demise, along with that of all her children. During the time he’d been trapped in the alternate realm, his soul assaulted and tortured by the God, he’d come to know Roh Se Kahn intimately. It had never been the God’s intent to allow Vane to rule. His only desire was for the death and destruction of everything Miel Se Luuda stood for.
In the end, not even those who served Roh Se Kahn would be given his mercy. So long as they had the power of light in them, however renounced, they would perish.
Dhani listened, helpless, as Roh Se Kahn spent the next few hours going over his false strategy, all the while reveling in his deceit. The shattered windows were sealed with plastic sheeting and a fire was lit in the hearth for warmth. Several lanterns were placed in sconces along the walls to give light as the sun set over the horizon.
Eventually, Vane entered the great hall followed by a group of three dozen men and women comprised of humans, Ba’Kal and Vam’kir. One of them was carrying a second, folding table which he hurried to set up beside the wooden table several feet from the dais.
Deirdra walked in at Vane’s side. She was dressed in a form-fitting gown with diamonds dripping from her ears, neck and waist. Her stance was regal and her expression serene as triumph glinted in her chestnut-colored eyes.
Dhani shuddered within, appalled at her blindness. She truly thought she was going to rule at Vane’s side as she’d wanted to all along. However, his dismay wasn’t for her. It was for the innocent child she carried wrapped in a blanket in her arms. Her son, who was a victim of circumstance just as much as Keenan was.
“Father,” Vane began in a voice filled with anticipation, “the moment is here. I will give us our victory and make you proud. After I bring you back, I’ll reign over Miel Se Luuda’s children in your name.”
Suspicion flickered in Roh Se Kahn’s energy. Vane’s words were a little too couched in ambiguity. “Where is Keenan?”
“He’ll be here, when the time comes. I swear to you, his death will be brutal. I’ll make him pay for daring to think he’s anything more than the slave you made him.” He gestured for the followers to fan out in a wide circle around the tables. Two of them flanked Deirdra while a third unrolled an aged parchment then nodded to Vane.
Vane strode to Deirdra and gently took his son from her. When she protested, he merely smiled. “Don’t worry, my dear. I promise you, I have only Sevrick’s best interests at heart.” He laid his sleeping baby on the surface of the folding table.
Roh Se Kahn’s alarm heightened, mirrored by Dhani’s. Vane was changing the game. There could be only one reason why he was putting his son on the table.
“What is the meaning of this?” Dhani demanded imperiously, gaining his feet.
At the same time, Deirdra surged forward but was restrained by the two men at her sides. “What are you doing? You told me that table was meant for the human your father would use as his new vessel.” Her voice trembled as she struggled against the men at her sides. Whatever Vane was intending, he apparently hadn’t deigned to inform her of it.
“Vane!” Dhani bellowed. “I gave you an order to find a human for me to possess. It has to be willing. Your bastard son has no part in this.”
“Oh, but he does.” Vane tipped his head in the direction of Achilles, who was at Dhani’s side.
Dhani turned just in time to see the flash of steel in the man’s hand before a knife was plunged into his gut. Searing pain drove him to his knees, and it was all he could do to stay erect when the blade was wrenched out. He stared in shock as his wrists were bound in cuffs behind his back and a strip of leather was tied around his mouth to gag him. Achilles turned him then yanked on his hair, forcing him to meet Vane’s malicious gaze.
Roh Se Kahn’s fury swamped Dhani in torrents that refused to let Dhani’s body give in to the rending pain.
Deirdra began to scream and curse Vane in righteous fury until Vane slapped her harshly. “Keep her quiet,” he ordered the men. He turned back to Dhani and slowly began to approach. “Did you really think I would fall for your lies again? That I would play your puppet while you took away every promise you made to me? I knew, when you took Keenan’s blood a year ago to complete your army of minions, that you would betray me. Your hatred for Miel Se Luuda is so blinding that you can’t even see the greater picture. Why destroy this world when you can rule it?”
Vane clenched Dhani’s jaw to the point of bruising, yet Roh Se Kahn refused to act. Dhani could feel the God’s rage smoldering, waiting to find out what Vane’s true intentions were.
Vane struck him hard across the cheek. “It was never Keenan you should’ve worried about. It is I who wi
ll surpass you. Ever since your failed attempt to take power, I’ve been here, turning your followers against you. Their allegiance belongs to me now.”
On the other side of the hall, the doors flew open again and two men came in dragging an unconscious Ba’Kal male. They took him to the hardwood table and tied him down using thick rope.
“I knew you would find a way out of your prison,” Vane continued as he strolled to stand between the two tables. “I’ve been preparing for it. The only hope I had was that you would come back before my son grew too old. You see, I don’t need you to carry out the promises you made to me, and I don’t need Keenan. I’m going to perform the incantation on this Ba’Kal and send your essence into my son’s body. Being too young to resist you, he’s the perfect, willing, vessel. Once you’re inside him, I’m going to trap your powers with the same collar you made for Keenan.”
He brought up his hands to dangle a thin, metal collar from one and a key from the other.
Dhani recognized the collar dangling from Vane’s fingers as the same one that had been locked around Keenan’s neck when Roh Se Kahn had spilled Keenan’s blood to complete his army of minions. The same collar the God had fashioned to trap Keenan’s powers when he was nine years old. The metal was enchanted to inhibit the forces of light and dark in the person who wore it, and only responded to those with darkness in them.
With that collar around Sevrick’s neck once Roh Se Kahn’s essence was transferred to the baby, Vane would have complete control over him.
“After Keenan defeated you, he took all of your texts on the dark arts, but not before I got what I needed from your own chambers. I knew you kept the strongest of your spells there, and I found one that can separate your powers from your essence. Most of them, at least. The relocation spell will take your powers and give them to me. As soon as I have them, you will become obsolete, father, and I’ll send your essence back to your prison where you’ll spend the rest of eternity regretting your betrayal of me.”
Deirdra kicked one of the men holding her in the groin, making him stagger back long enough for her shout out, “You’ll kill our son! He can’t survive that.” Two more men wrestled her under control.
Vane merely smiled. “I’m counting on it. I won’t make the same mistake as my father by trusting in my son. I don’t need an heir when I can rule forever as a God.”
Roh Se Kahn’s rage peaked and he drew on every ounce of darkness he’d forced into Dhani. It exploded in a blast at Vane’s feet, shattering the floor and upending both tables. One of the followers caught the baby before it could hit the ground while Vane flew back and skidded several yards away. The collar and key were knocked from his hands and skittered across the floor.
Vane was on his feet seconds later, shouting out orders. “Start the spell!” To Achilles, he yelled, “Take him down but keep him alive. The boy can’t die until all of my father’s essence is in Sevrick.” He pointed at the followers closest to the waking Ba’Kal still tied to the hardwood table and said, “Hold the shifter down. I need to get the collar on the baby once the incantation is done.”
The darkness in Dhani swelled in another overwhelming crest. It disintegrated the cuffs at his wrists and the leather strip in his mouth, then flowed outward to attack Achilles. The knife Achilles brought down in an arc turned to ash with rapid decay that spread from the hilt to his hand in a single heartbeat. He let out an earsplitting screech and scrambled away, clutching the blackened stump where his hand used to be, tightly to his chest.
Dhani lurched up and stumbled down the dais steps. His strength was fading fast. He was teetering on the edge of death, could feel it in every fiber of his being.
Although the blade had missed his vital organs, the blood loss was becoming too much. Within, he prayed for the finality Roh Se Kahn had denied him through suicide, yet the God kept him going.
He lifted a hand and cast out a blazing stream of fire to his left, bathing five of the followers in coruscating columns of flame. Their shrieks echoed throughout the hall in an agonizing chorus.
Vane tripped over his own feet in his rush to get away. “Finish the Gods-damned spell!” he shouted over the chaotic noise, sending out his own bolt of power toward the ceiling above Dhani.
Dhani raised a forearm to block the debris that rained down on him with an invisible shield. He clapped his hands together then drew them apart, creating a spitting ball of electricity between them so immense, it scorched his palms. He lifted his hands over his head and prepared to cast it toward Vane when a piercing jolt hit his shoulder. The electric ball dissipated as he spun on his heels and fell onto his side. More pain radiated through his muscles and he glanced down to find a weeping bullet wound an inch below his right clavicle.
Further weakened, Dhani couldn’t summon the strength to stand, no matter how much Roh Se Kahn demanded it of him. Instead, he set his sights on the mass of newcomers who swarmed into the great hall. Hope surged up within Dhani when he saw Tailor run in at the head of a group of warriors. His mate had a gun aimed at him and was shouting words that were drowned out in the commotion. At his sides were Manning, Cain, Rowan and Keenan.
Dhani wanted to warn them all to get back but Roh Se Kahn was still in full control. He compelled Dhani to wave his hand and use the darkness in him to fracture the ceiling above the warriors. Huge chunks of mortar and brick tumbled down and surrounded Tailor and the others in a cloud of dust.
Dhani cried out inwardly against the God even as he was forced to send a second blast of destruction in Vane’s direction. Vane was thrown into the air, then came down hard on the floor. In the next heartbeat, Dhani looked to the follower who was still reading from the parchment and sent out a violent peal of lightning that ensconced the man in white light. Close to him, the two followers holding Deirdra cowered away, allowing her to lunge for the man still holding her baby.
With the last of his strength, Dhani pushed himself up to a sitting position and searched for Vane. The demigod was defending himself against two warriors with his powers, but blood coated the side of his face and he staggered to one knee. Dhani lifted his good arm and prepared to cast another bolt of lightning, only to reel from a vicious punch across his jaw. His head hit the floor, dazing him, and he looked up.
Tailor stood over him with a gun aimed at Dhani’s forehead. Dust covered his hair and his eyes blazed a bright golden hue, face frozen in an unyielding expression. “Don’t think for a second I won’t kill my mate to send you back to hell,” he said through clenched teeth.
Within, Dhani silently cried out in joy. Tailor was still alive, and he was aware of Roh Se Kahn’s presence. At that moment, Dhani’s fear of death was replaced by a sense of gratefulness. He knew he was going to die regardless of what happened, and was glad—so glad—that his mate was there with him. He didn’t want to die alone.
Somewhere in the distance, Keenan shouted above the commotion. “Tailor!”
Dhani and Tailor looked to their left where Keenan was running toward them with the collar and key in his hands. Behind him, one of the followers was giving chase and pulled out a gun. In one fluid motion, Tailor unsheathed a dagger at his belt and flung it at the woman. She went down instantly, the blade buried deep in her throat.
Dhani used the distraction to raise his hand for a second blast of power toward Tailor, but he was impeded again, this time by Keenan. Relief swept through Dhani as his friend sent a burst of funneled wind so strong, it felt as if Dhani’s hand had been knocked aside by a bat.
“Hold him!” Keenan yelled.
Tailor tackled Dhani and pinned his wrists to the floor just as Keenan arrived. Keenan’s eyes were wild with fright, yet at the same time, stark with fierce determination. He closed the collar around Dhani’s neck and locked it with the key.
Dhani peeled his lips back in a feral growl. “This isn’t over.”
“No,” Keenan replied vehemently. “It’s not. Sleep.”
The metal warmed around Dhani’s neck and molded to
his skin. The feel of Roh Se Kahn’s insidious darkness was extinguished, trapped beyond Dhani’s senses by the collar, along with the light of his spirit. His eyes closed and mind shut down. The last thing he heard was his name whispered in the ragged voice of his mate.
Chapter Eleven
“Wake.”
That single word penetrated the fog eclipsing Dhani’s mind and brought him into consciousness. The first thing he felt was a profound emptiness so much like what he’d experienced in the alternate realm that fear consumed him. The light of his spirit was gone without a trace. He had to be back in that prison, defenseless and vulnerable without the comfort of his leopard and falcon.
A scream was wrenched from his throat and he sat up in terror. Though his eyes were open, he couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing. He fought against the hands that pushed him down until a shout broke through his craze.
“Dhani! Dhani, wake up! You’re safe. Look at me.”
It took a while for his mind to register the deep tenor of his mate’s voice. Tailor was hovering over him, holding him down in a gentle but firm grip. Tailor’s eyes were bloodshot with dark circles beneath them and stubble covered his jaw, as if he hadn’t slept in days. He looked nothing like the carefree, composed warrior Dhani had known, yet the sight was so welcoming that moisture pricked Dhani’s eyes.
Tailor’s demeanor was hesitant and cautious as he continued to stare down at Dhani as though searching for something. “Is it really you?”
Dhani stilled as he realized what his mate was asking. He reached inside himself, seeking out the cold darkness of Roh Se Kahn’s energy, and came up empty. It was gone, or rather seemed to be obstructed by whatever force was also blocking his leopard. It felt like half of his soul had been stripped away just as when Roh Se Kahn had taken his falcon. While the sensation was unnerving and almost painful, he couldn’t help the relief that flooded through him at the absence of the God’s darkness.
It was him spiritless and aching from the emptiness, but all him.