by Brook Rogers
I watched as the Queen raised her hand, then sliced across her palm with a bone-hilt knife. Blood dripped onto the stone as her hand closed into a fist, and a gray-green smoke wafted from the gem.
Outclassed or not, I couldn’t just sit here and watch this happen. I tried to stand, but my legs buckled, the muscles still not totally my own.
“Bran, can you move yet?” I hissed. When he didn’t respond, I turned to Peep. He had far more mastery over his zapped senses and was already rising to his feet. “Try some fire on that protection veil, Peep. Make the Fae work for it.”
With a nod, Peep began a slow burn on the gold dome. Bran’s form shimmered. Could his berserker be breaking through, even under the control of the Fae?
I dragged myself backward to the wall and used it to pull myself up, balancing on my one functioning leg. The other I propped out to stabilize myself.
A sharp crack stung my ears, and I looked at the Queen. She had her head tipped back, her arms thrown out to the sides. The darkness above her was now funneling into her open mouth. Sweat ran down Aaron’s face as he held their protection against Peep’s flames. He repeatedly glanced at the Queen, his eyes wide with concern.
The ground trembled again as the sound of rending rock filled the air. A fissure opened up at our feet, and the marble floor broke apart, chunks of it rolling like ice floes in ocean waves. The Fae lost hold of his protection bubble and dropped to his knees while yet another expanding chasm separated him from the Queen. Dark steam rose from the open cracks, and spirits began to slip out. Their red, glowing eyes burned into me before they disappeared silently into the walls.
Terror iced my veins. The denizens of the Underworld were escaping, and I only had one piss-poor idea how to stop it.
I leaped across the widening gap, but my leg collapsed out from under me again. All I could do was drag myself forward. Pushing with my good leg and pulling with my arms, I scooted under the table. The bone-hilted ceremonial knife must have rolled off during the upheaval, so I scooped it up and half crawled behind the suspended Queen.
Peep had Aaron distracted with a full-on flaming assault. The fire demon had gone straight gangster. Smiling, I tightened my grip on the knife and, slowly and agonizingly, struggled to my feet.
I expected her to turn around, but the Queen never moved. She was frozen in place—gripped by the Underworld’s magic. No single vessel was ever meant to hold that kind of power. My eyes met Bran’s over the growing rift between us. He managed a single tiny nod, his face set in hard lines.
I drew back, inhaling a steadying breath.
Chapter 22
I slid the knife smoothly across the Queen’s throat, and a spray of blood coated my cheek.
Hot, angry magic sucked the air from my lungs in a whoosh. I frantically clawed at my hand holding the knife, but the hilt had welded itself to my skin. I couldn’t pry it free. The magic swirled around me, and my soul cried out in revulsion as an oily, dark presence within it caressed me from head to toe.
Pressure built in my head again. It glowed, bright and golden, against the dark stain that probed at me—that tried to slither inside. As my magic pulsed, the darkness recoiled, light and dark anathema to each other. In that moment I understood there is no light without the dark, no good without evil, no right without wrong. No love without hate. They constantly chase each other in an endless, timeless loop.
My light pushed forward, and the blackness rushed back into the Queen’s body. I jerked my hand free of the knife, bits of skin ripping away.
The Queen’s image wavered. Her skin became ashen, fading right in front of me. Disappearing. Wispy tendrils spun off of her to be absorbed by the stone. Like an empty vessel being filled, the gem consumed the essence of the Queen and the darkness she’d called forth.
The ground shook again, dust boiling around me. My pulse was galloping so hard it hurt to breathe. Tense and scared, I braced myself as the violent rips in the ground began to mend. They were closing—the Underworld gate was closing!
When there was nothing left of the Queen, the stone started to vibrate, jumping violently about the table. What was happening? I’d hoped that with the Queen’s death, the stone would lose its power.
My eyes darted to Aaron, who was closer to me after the rift closed. His wide eyes were glued on the stone in obvious panic.
With an incredible boom, a bolt of pure white shot out of the stone, knocking me to my knees and making me clap my hands to my ears. With a whimper, I looked down at my leg. A smoking piece of opal had embedded itself in my thigh.
When I pulled my hands away from my ears, there was nothing but silence. Grand-mère and Rydolf fell heavily to the floor, and Bran caught Conall as the magic holding them vanished. A large piece of the stone—now a dull gray—still lay on the table.
For a long moment nobody moved. Then the room exploded into chaos.
I drew my khopesh and pushed my new magic into it, shooting streams of white and black across the room at Aaron. He grabbed the remaining piece of stone and, in nearly the same instant, called up a portal. Peep lunged forward to stop him, but the Fae created a wicked shard of ice magic and plunged it deep into the demon’s chest. Then he dived through the portal and was gone.
I hobble-hopped to Peep and awkwardly cradled him as we both collapsed to the floor. When I glanced up, Grand-mère was hovering over Rydolf, ripping pieces off his shirt to wrap around his bleeding head. Bran and Conall were swearing loudly, their eyes on where the portal had disappeared.
“Bran, help,” I yelled.
He rounded the table and dropped to his knees beside me. Holding his hands over the bloody and ragged hole in Peep’s chest, he gave me a sympathetic look. “The trauma to his heart . . . it’s extensive.” His tone revealed just how bad it was.
I hadn’t known Peep for very long, and we hadn’t exactly met under ideal circumstances, but he’d come through every time I asked something of him. He didn’t deserve to die here.
I didn’t think the stone was still usable, but Aaron had taken it. Rydolf and Peep were both badly injured. Dubhlain had disappeared. It wasn’t much of a win. Hell, I wasn’t even sure where to go from here.
Bran leaned more fully over Peep and placed both palms on the demon’s wound. He murmured something under his breath, his eyes clamped shut and his brow furrowed. Seeing the jokester so focused kicked my worry up to a whole new level. I clasped Peep’s cold, limp hand in my own and bowed my head, sending a plea to the gods to spare him.
Wrapped up as I was in my pleading, I didn’t immediately notice my hand growing warm.
A white light sparked up at the place our skin touched. It encircled our hands and extended up his arm, then moved to his chest and began to glow brightly over the ghastly hole. Energy rushed out of me, traveling down the white ribbon and into Peep. At the same time, a hot needle pushed back into my sternum. I felt lightheaded—so much so that I could no longer hold myself up.
I slumped to the side, whacking my head hard on the marble floor. Bran screamed for Conall and Grand-mère, and I felt my body being jostled up off the cold stone. Wetness tickled my upper lip. I wished one of them would wipe away the blood coming from my nose.
Grand-mère turned my face so she could look into my eyes. She sucked in a sharp breath, her own eyes misting, and tightened her hold around my shoulders. She hadn’t held me like this since I was a child. It was nice. I would never be too old to need her.
I just floated there for a moment, joints loose as cooked spaghetti and my vision hazy. The voices around me were muffled and distant, as if my ears were stuffed full of cotton.
“She’s going to be okay?” Grand-mère asked.
“I’m not exactly sure what she did, but I think she’ll be fine. The demon is completely healed, and I wouldn’t have given odds that he’d make it,” Bran answered.
Something tugged hard in my middle, and Peep said, “What an ass.” Except his voice was inside my head. What the fuck?
; “Profanity, valkyrie.”
A wave of adrenaline caused me to jump in Grand-mère’s lap. Odin’s hairy ass, a demon was inside my head!
Peep chuckled. “You shared some of your soul essence with me when you saved my life. I’m forever grateful.”
Panic surged through me. I couldn’t even handle one soul bond, and now I had two? I wasn’t attracted to Peep—was that a requirement?
This time he snorted. “No, we are not bound as soul mates. This is different. It’s more similar to a blood nexus but without the danger. A tiny piece of you passed to me, and in exchange, you hold a small sliver of my essence. We will always be able to locate each other and communicate mind to mind just as we are now. This is a rare event. Your sacrifice guarantees my unending loyalty, Valkyrie. I am honored.”
I guess I was honored too, but was I always going to hear him in my head now?
“No,” he assured me. “I can show you how to shield later.”
I sighed in relief. Nobody needed a running commentary yammering at them all the time.
My strength was returning in small increments, and I could finally wipe the blood away from my nose. Grand-mère helped me sit up, unable to hide the deep line of worry between her eyebrows. Peep hovered beside me as though anxious to assist, but I waved him off.
“Rydolf?” I asked out loud. The elf had been bleeding pretty bad.
“The bullet grazed his skull,” Conall replied. “He’s out for a while but should be fine.”
My shoulders sagged. Thank the gods.
Bran stood beside Rydolf’s unmoving body. When he noticed me watching him, a flash of guilt crossed his face. Even if he hadn’t been in control when it happened, he was still behind the elf’s injury. I had plenty of guilt too. Peep almost died because he was helping me.
It certainly hadn’t been without a cost, but together, we’d stopped the Queen and kept the Underworld closed. At least for now.
Bran rolled Rydolf onto his shoulders in a fireman carry while Conall gathered our discarded weapons, then took the lead out of the chamber. Grand-mère helped me sheath the khopesh and slid her shoulder under my side, her other arm tight around my waist to keep me from wobbling. I could have used one of those panty-melting kisses from Dubhlain right about now.
We hadn’t made it very far down the hall of curtains when a portal shimmered into view in front of Conall. He unceremoniously dumped the extra weapons and shouldered my Benelli, bracing for whatever came through.
Chapter 23
When Dubhlain stepped out of the portal, he didn’t even acknowledge the other berserker, just whipped his gaze around until it landed on me. I saw the exact moment he realized I wasn’t standing on my own. In a few large strides, he was at my side and trying to pluck me from Grand-mère’s shoulder. She gave an indignant squawk, and I smacked weakly at him.
Dubhlain dropped his hands, that familiar hurt look crossing his face. Even though I could have used the bond-fueled energy boost he could provide, I already looked weak enough in front of these people. His delicate feelings would just have to find a way to deal with it.
Still, when that gooey chocolate smell of his filled my olfactory senses, my body involuntarily swayed toward his. Damn him and this stupid bond. I was not succeeding in getting a handle on it. At all.
“I may need to show you how to shield much sooner than I realized,” Peep said, startling me. Having another person in my head would take some getting used to. “The thoughts you have about your mate are disturbing. I wish I could scrub my brain. How is intercourse even possible in that position?”
I started to apologize, then decided I really didn’t care anymore. Peep could either deal with it or teach me how to shield. “Don’t mention any of the mate stuff to Grand-mère, okay? I’d like to tell her in my own time. She worries,” I thought at Peep.
He inclined his head slightly. “You don’t have to shout, you know.”
Grand-mère gave me a questioning look when Peep said that last part out loud. I kept my eyes down and walked a little faster, pulling her with me. She was going to have kittens when she found out about my bonds—both of them.
I caught her still watching me and mouthed later. Her mouth thinned into a flat line, but she didn’t push.
Conall and Bran briefed Dubhlain on what he missed. I pursed my lips, still pissed over his disappearing act, even if he couldn’t control it. The guy was like a blister—always showing up after the work was done. Isn’t that what every little girl dreams of in a mate? Someone you can definitely not depend on because at any given time, he might just up and vanish.
On our way back to the surface, we discovered that some of the Fae who’d been knocked out by the grenade were beginning to wake up. They appeared confused and disoriented. If Rydolf had been conscious, I would have asked what was going to happen to them now. As it was, I just had to hope they could find their own way back home.
Before we got to the door, a wild-eyed Aslyn bounded into the tunnel. “The beast! It broke free. I don’t understand what happened. We had it hobbled with spelled chains, but then there was some kind of magical earthquake. While we were distracted, it snapped the links and ran off.”
I’d forgotten about the Manticore. Shouldn’t it have disappeared when the stone changed?
The vampire stood in that creepy stillness all vampires had, waiting for directions.
Once Grand-mère was satisfied I wasn’t going to fall over, she gently removed my arm and walked over to him. “Follow, but don’t try to stop it. We’ll catch up.”
He turned and ran back out of the fairy mound.
Bran carefully eased Rydolf from his shoulders and laid him down with the other Fae. It didn’t feel right to leave him here like this, but if we were to have any hope of catching up to the Manticore and getting that stone from Aaron, this was the way it had to be. I made a vow to myself that when this was over, I would check on Rydolf and see if he’d gotten his family back.
We each collected our weapons from Conall’s pile, Bran tossed Rydolf’s ancient revolver onto his sleeping chest, and without wasting another moment, we trotted out into the hazy sunlight. Gods, this heat was ridiculous. Every time I was inside or underground, I forgot just how stifling it was. Sweat dampened my hairline and made my tank top cling to my skin.
The Manticore had left a clear trail out of the meadow. Trees were snapped off, and churned earth from not only a massive set of feet but many smaller ones—Grand-mère’s people—marked the way.
Grand-mère released her wings and took to the sky, and the rest of us trotted along at a fast but steady pace. She circled back every so often to indicate the direction we needed to go but remained in the air.
I could have changed into my raven and flown with her, but I still felt depleted, not quite at a hundred percent. What I really needed was time—the one thing we didn’t have. Plus, I couldn’t carry my weapons in my other form. The Manticore had to still be following the stone. When we finally caught up to Aaron, I wanted to be able to throw everything I had at him, especially now that he could no longer hide behind the Queen’s skirts.
Trees and undergrowth littered the landscape, forming tight barricades in some places that were impossible to get through. Most of the shrubs had sharp thorns. Wherever the monster was headed, it was trying to get there in a hurry—mowing down everything in its way with singular focus.
We’d left the road back at the meadow, so it came as something of a shock when we stumbled upon a large wooden gate in the middle of nowhere. The Manticore had torn through it, leaving only a pitiful pile of busted lumber behind. Amazingly, the square stone pillars that had supported the doors still stood. Runes covered the side facing us, but the other three sides were blank.
A dim path led away from the gateway on the other side. No fence extended away from the pillars, just a line of trees and underbrush, making the gate seem even more out of place.
A shrill scream echoed in the distance, cutting our investigation of
the bizarre runic gate short. Everyone followed the sound down the meager trail. Gnarled trees grew close together on either side, and their crooked, grasping branches barely allowed enough clearance for the berserkers to pass through. The dense canopy blocked most of the light from the realm’s two suns. I hadn’t been able to see Grand-mère since we passed through the gate.
The Hell Plane was vast. I’d only ventured into it a handful of times, mostly alongside Grand-mère. We always stuck to heavily trafficked roads and the more populated settlements. Some dark and terrible places existed here, inhabited by some truly nasty creatures. It crossed my mind that maybe the monster we were chasing had freed something equally awful, or worse, by destroying that gate.
Rustling to our left had everyone drawing their weapons, and then something giggled to our right. We formed a tight circle, our backs together.
A piercing whine raked at my ear, then rose in volume until it reached a crescendo that just wouldn’t stop. It felt like ice picks being driven into my eardrums. The pressure behind my eyes became so intense I was scared they might pop out of their sockets. Overwhelmed, I dropped my shotgun and covered my ears. My legs grew weak and folded of their own accord. Vaguely, I was aware of everyone around me doing the same.
The mark on my chest flared to life, and I lost my breath, the burning far beyond anything I’d felt from it before. I glanced down. The now active rune was eating away my shirt. Blood bubbled around its edges as a golden line connected previously unfinished points, then began new ones. As if in response to the slow branding, a hot flash started at the top of my head and swept down to my toes. Bile rose in my throat. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to throw up or pass out—or both.