DreamReaper_Blood of Kaos Series Book II

by Nesa Miller

  “You will return to the LOKI castle to face charges of dereliction of duty and treason laid against you,” Shera stated as the others moved toward their chieftain. “It will go easier if you come peaceably.”

  “Treason?” He echoed in a trancelike state. The brutal visions and reality blurred into one. In reaction to the Council’s advance, Dar rammed into the fire-headed monster, slamming him into the stones of the castle. He caught the arm that wielded the bloody blade, twisting until he heard the bone snap.

  Pyro yelled out in pain.

  The filth screamed and dropped the blade. Dar heard footsteps come up from behind and lashed back with his elbow. At impact, he whirled around with a fist into a mid-section.

  Warden bent over and collapsed, blood gushing from a broken nose.

  In the next instant, Dar released an energy blast that threw the others to the ground.

  Savage was the first to her feet. “How dare you attack the High Council!”

  “I am the High Lord of Kaos and you will listen to me.”

  Screams of the child dropped him to his knees. “Stop!” he cried out, his hands going to his head.

  Savage took the advantage. “Not until we get what we came for.” With the handle of her whip, she cracked him in the back of the head. Dar went down, face-first into the dirt.

  When Dar stepped out the back door, Etain cringed at the bombardment of questions. “I wish I could help him fight that battle.”

  “Well, ya can't. He's a man. It’s bleedin’ time he acted like one.”

  “Inferno...”

  “Steady on,” Spirit interjected with a look from one to the other. “We’ve more important things to discuss.”

  “You’re right. What’s this news you wanted to tell me?” Etain asked.

  Spirit turned to her husband first. “Love, you need to listen and let me finish what I'm about to say.”

  “What could ya possibly have to say that I wouldn't listen?” He sat back in his chair. “Unless it has to do with that sucker-punching wanker and his yapping dogs.” Her no-nonsense gaze told him that it did. He wiped a hand over his face. “For fuck’s sake.”

  With him somewhat subdued, she addressed the immediate problem at hand. “Etain, love, I know you know Faux’s pregnant.”

  “Well…” She looked from Spirit to Inferno. “Yes, Dar told me. So did Midir.”

  Inferno, recovered from his moment of quiet, asked, “How is it either of ‘em knows she’s preggers?”

  “Love, please,” Spirit said, her patience wearing thin. “Lass, how would Midir know?”

  “He felt the life force of the child through his blade.”

  Spirit placed an understanding hand on hers. “He was pure evil, love. You must not put any worth into anything he said. That man out there loves you more than life itself.”

  “Aye,” she whispered, aware that her friend referred to other matters. “I know.” She shrugged. “But she carries his child.”

  “About that…,” Spirit started.

  Inferno violently pushed away from the table, his chair crashing to the floor. “I was right about the soddin’ bastard. To hell with his Council of tossers, I'll kill him meself. They can drag his corpse back for trial.”

  Etain stood up, facing him. “You won’t touch him! He has enough to deal with right now.”

  “How can ya defend that cunny-dipping prick? Have ya no pride?”

  “I have plenty, but it has no place in this situation. I won’t have her child grow up without its father. ”

  “Yer a daft one. He's fried yer bloody brains.”

  He tried to step past her but Etain blocked his way. “You're the daft one if you think I'm letting you go out there.”

  “Stop this!” Spirit yelled, surprising them both. “I'll not have the two of you fighting, too.” Etain’s shoulders sagged as she pushed a hand through her hair. “Both of you sit down,” Spirit ordered. “I think a cuppa would do us all good.”

  “No!” Etain said. Spirit and Inferno shared a surprised look at her vehement refusal. “They're forcing his hand.” The intensity of the fight outside vibrated through her. She dashed out the door just as Savage hit Dar in the back of the head, knocking him unconscious.

  “Have you gone crazy?” Etain yelled, Nim’Na’Sharr materializing in her hand. “He’s your chieftain.” The four Council members, stunned by the sudden appearance of the sword, glanced at one another. “Get the hell out of here! All of you! Leave!” Her sword took on the same white light that glowed in her eyes. “Do as I say or I’ll wage my own war here and now.”

  Spirit and Inferno had rushed out behind Etain. “There’s a dirty deed,” Inferno said, seeing Dar laid out. “Ya best do what the lass says if yer to bugger off in one piece.”

  In response to the ruckus, members of the UWS clan appeared from all directions, Felix and Ruby included, restrained by indifferent hands.

  Savage and Shera helped a wheezing Warden to her feet. Shera offered the Machin Chin a handkerchief for her broken nose as they joined Pyro, who held a broken arm to his chest. The Council gathered close, watchful of the threat around them, and conferred in quiet whispers.

  Savage straightened her shoulders, a sneer on her face. “This isn’t over. Once we’ve dealt with him…” Her gaze was for Etain only, “I will deal with you.”

  “Oooo, I’m scared now,” Etain sniped, lowering Nim’Na’Sharr. “The only way he'll be taken is over my dead body.”

  “Works for me,” Savage said.

  Pyro leaned toward Savage. “It’s not going to happen today.” His gaze traveled around the yard, reminding her of their predicament. “Let's go. We know where to find him. Wherever he is, his bitch won’t be far behind.”

  Etain stood over Dar, happy to see their backsides as they marched toward the stables.

  Inferno came up next to her. “It could be the whole clan next time. Is he worth it?”

  “What would you have me do, Inferno? Dar would never see justice from that mob.”

  “This comes of his own doing. Ya should’ve let ‘em have him.” He nudged the comatose man with the toe of his boot. “When they come back and a war starts…” His gaze was dark, “who do ya think he’ll side with?”

  “He won’t have to choose. I’ll kill them all before he even knows they've arrived.” Etain sheathed her sword and crouched next to Dar. Closing her eyes, she delved into his mind, searching to ensure he was okay. With a sharp gasp, her hands flew to her head and she lost her balance, falling onto her knees.

  “Lass!” Inferno was quick in getting to her. “What’s wrong?”

  “His family,” she whispered.

  “Whose family?” Spirit asked.

  “His children… His wife… The blood…” Her eyes reflected the horror seen in her mind. “He told me the story, but his memories… It’s as though he were there.”

  Inferno wrapped an arm around her, holding her tight. “What story?”

  “Midir murdered them. He murdered everyone.”

  6

  Silent Warrior

  Screams filled his head. Blood-covered hands performing their gruesome deed with great precision horrified him, the sharpened edge of a knife separating skin from glistening tissue.

  No. He shook his head. Not by my hands. I could never do such depraved things.

  “Are you sure, brother?”

  His gaze moved to the innocent face twisted in agony, the eyes wide in terror. The body he inhabited shivered with laughter. He sensed the man’s appreciation of the fear filling the room. A scream to his right made him turn. There was a woman chained to the wall, tears flowing down her cheeks, her arms bathed in blood in her struggle to break free. Her clothing torn and bruises in varying colors all over her body, it was her face…her beautiful face…that spoke the loudest of the abomination she was forced to watch, begging for the life of her son.

  Alexia.

  Next to his wife was a small, chained heap. Although he could not see h
er face, he knew it was his daughter, Victoria. Her pain would be the most intense. After watching her brother and mother die horrible deaths, it would be her turn. Tears blurred his vision, but the hands would not cease in their morbid task.

  He forced himself to look away, hoping the hands would stop. A glint from across the room caught his eye. A large mirror propped against the wall reflected the light, the room, and the disgusting images.

  You disgrace my family in this manner and admire yourself as you do so?

  The knife clattered against the floor. Dar stormed up to the reflection to find Midir’s face looming in its depths. His bloody hands pierced the silver façade, grabbing the muscular neck so much like his own. A sense of gratification tingled around his scalp, sending a warm flush over his body as his grip tightened around the neck. He felt the flesh yielding to his command, the muscles just below the skin slackening bit by bit as he squeezed the life from his dark brother.

  “Dar!”

  Sparks lit up inside his head, a hot fire spreading along his jaw. Stunned, his eyes popped open to a determined elf standing over him, fists clenched and drawn back for another cuff. He recognized the distinctive strip of thick, blond hair starting at the elf’s forehead, falling to the nape of his neck, and extending down his back in a banded tail. His first instinct was to punch the elf, but his hands were otherwise engaged. He felt Midir’s neck locked in his grip, felt his brother giving up the fight, his body accepting the inevitable.

  But why would Linq try to stop me? Wait. No. Midir is dead, his body reduced to ashes and buried in Krymeria.

  He followed Linq’s blue-eyed glare down to the hands that, in his mind, gripped the neck of his murderous brother. “Tartarus!”

  “Give her to me,” Linq demanded, reaching for Etain’s limp body. The authority in his voice compelled the dazed warrior to obey. Dar needed to touch her to know she was alive, but Linq pushed him back. “You’ve done enough.” The elf bent over her, listening for breath and feeling for a pulse. “She’s weak but alive. What the hell were you thinking? You damn near choked the life out of her.”

  “I had to stop Midir.” Dar’s voice was distant. “He was killing my family.”

  “Hmph.” Dar heard the doubt in his voice. “Inferno tells me Midir is dead…by your blade, no less.”

  “He was here… I was in the room.” Dar lifted his hands. “I swear to you, Linq. It was Midir I was choking.”

  Linq rolled Etain onto her back. “That family is long dead, and this one will be, too, if you let that fantur into your head.”

  “I don’t understand. It was so real. I felt his neck in my hands.”

  “It was not his neck.” Linq pointed at Etain. “The bruises on her neck prove that.”

  Dar pushed his hands through his tangled hair.

  “What’s going on with you?”

  Dar gave him a long, hard look, making the decision to share something he considered no one’s business but his own. “Visions of the death of my family have been haunting me since Midir’s death.”

  “She appears to be breathing easier now. Except for the marks, I think she’ll be fine.” Linq sat on the edge of the bed. “Was he involved in their deaths?” The men shared a silent gaze. “So, you’ve taken on his cuimhní cinn, his memories?”

  “I expected it would happen, but I hadn’t considered how strongly I would be affected.”

  “I remember you telling me that when you were a child, he was the darkest part of who you were, which was why your father pleaded for the priests to intervene. If the darkness was so powerful it required their intervention, how could Midir not be as strong as the one from whom he was created? You’re going to need help in conquering those demons. I suggest a consult with Alatariel before this gets further out of hand. The next time, your ladylove may not be so lucky.”

  “You have always spoken straight with me, Linq.” Dar leaned against the headboard and gently touched Etain’s hair. “Your honesty is greatly appreciated.”

  He acknowledged the sentiment with a tilt of his head. “I expect no less from you in return.”

  Dar sighed. “You deserve the truth, but not today.”

  “Not today then.”

  With the men in agreement, their conversation turned to why Linq had come to Laugharne. Anytime the High Council left the LOKI castle was big news within the Alamir community. Add that their final destination was a small clan in the Welsh district and it made it all the more monumental.

  “I thought you might need my assistance,” Linq said. After a short chat with Inferno, he had come upstairs to check on Dar and overheard what he thought was a scuffle. “I was afraid they’d come back. What a surprise to find you strangling your lady.” He raised his left hand, eyeing his bruised knuckles. “You have a jaw of pure iron, my friend.”

  “No less than that left hook of yours.” Dar rubbed his jaw. “Have Spirit put ice on it. It should help with the swelling.” He rolled to the other side of the bed and onto his feet. “I’m better now, thanks to you.”

  They walked to the door, Linq putting his hand on his friend’s arm. “Let Alatariel help before it goes too far.”

  “I will consider it, Linq. And, please, nothing of this to Inferno.”

  “The bruises on her neck will tell him all he needs to know.”

  Dar nodded, not too concerned. “We’ll be down soon.” He quietly closed the door, musing over his friend’s words. Surely it’s from the stress of the day.

  Hearing her stir, he rushed to the bed and wrapped his arms around her, rocking her like a child.

  “Dar...”

  “Shhhh, my love. No need to talk. Just rest here with me.”

  “My throat hurts.” She touched her neck.

  “A sip of water will help.” He scooted out from behind her, soon returning with a full glass. Seeing the look on her face, he hesitated. “What is it?”

  Etain took the offered glass, sipped slowly, then placed it on the bedside table. Dar shifted, uncomfortable under her narrowed gaze. “You were choking me.”

  He cleared his throat. “You remember.”

  “I should think so.” Anger hardened her beautiful features.

  “It wasn’t you, Etain.” He reached for her, but she leaned back.

  “Bullshit,” she said, gently rubbing her neck. “I’m sure I have the bruises to prove otherwise.”

  Dar sat on the edge of the bed. “It was you, here with me, but in my mind…” He touched his forehead, “it was Midir.” Desperation darkened his gaze. “I saw him murdering my…” He shook his head and looked at her, sorrow on his face. “I had to make him stop.” His heart felt heavy and ready to split should she decide not to believe him. “I am sorry, a chuisle. Please, forgive me.”

  Silent, she stared at him. After a long moment, she said, “I saw them, Dar.”

  He went with what he thought was a change in the conversation. “The Council won’t be back anytime soon.”

  “I know that,” she said sharply. “I made sure of it.” She inhaled, her face softening. “I’m not talking about the Council. I saw what Midir did to your wife and children.”

  He froze as an emotional whirlwind swept through him. For once, he wished the connection they shared was not so strong. “That is something no one should have to see.”

  “Or to bear alone.” She tentatively placed her hand over his.

  The contrast of his large hand framed by her smaller, delicate one proved the truth in her words. He no longer had to bear his life alone. The heaviness in his heart began to lift. “It was a long time ago. You are my family now.”

  Her fingers intertwined with his. “Aye, I am yours as much as you are mine.”

  An ache passed through his heart. She had lost her family, too, but at a young age, thrown into an alien world without warning or preparation. His eyes came up to meet hers. “Aye.” He frowned at the sudden tears in her eyes, afraid his earlier admissions, in conjunction with the chaos that was his life, had finall
y pushed her beyond her limits. “Etain…”

  “Our family is more than just you and me now.” She gave his hands a loving squeeze. “We have Inferno and Spirit.” When he shrugged and rolled his eyes, she smiled through her tears. “Then we have Faux and Freeblood, wild child and wildcard…and the baby.” Etain touched his cheek. “We have both suffered great loss, but we have so much to be thankful for. Leave Midir in the past where he belongs, and let’s make a fresh start.”

  Ghabháil ar na déithe (Thank the gods). She would stay.

  “However…” The hard look returned.

  Dar held up one hand in surrender, still holding onto hers with the other. “I make a promise to you, milady.” He reached for the dirk in his boot and held it up. “My heart, my blade, and my body are yours. I swear it by my blade. Should I ever fail in that promise…” An earnest look in his eye, he placed her hand on the hilt and held them both within his hands, “take this blade and plunge it into my heart for I would rather die than bring harm to you.”

  She held his gaze. “Don’t think I won’t hold you to it.”

  “Aye, milady. I am your servant.”

  Linq inspected his hand as he made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. Spirit and Inferno sat close together, their voices low. Felix, reclining at Inferno’s feet, raised his head with a low growl, watching as Ruby trotted over to the elf. He offered his knuckles for inspection. “Bore da, Ruby.”

  Inferno gave Felix a good scratch behind his ear. “Good boy.”

  “Linq.” Spirit waved him over. “Have a sit. Ruby, that’s a good girl. Come.”

  After a licked acceptance of the visitor, Ruby wagged her russet tail and returned to her mistress.

  “I need ice,” Linq said, raising his bruised knuckles.

  Spirit stood up. “How’d that happen, love?”

  “A point proven between old friends.”

  Inferno snorted. “The bugger deserves a lot worse than that.”

  Spirit inspected his hand. Finding no broken bones, she had Linq sit while she put together an ice pack.