Edu saluted his adversary, pounding his gauntleted fist to his chest. The crowd cheered, celebrating the pageantry. The freedom. The gore.
Rumor would already have flown of Aon’s imminent return. Yet none knew—save himself and Ylena, who was privy to his thoughts—that he intended not to return to his own crypt in exchange, as was custom.
It could spark a war, his contempt of the agreement between him and Aon. But he could not return to his crypt and abandon the mystery of the human who had been cast from the blood of the Ancients unchanged. He could not leave it to Aon to bend such developments to his whim and use it for his own personal gain.
Edu turned from his dead opponent and stalked from the stage of the Colosseum without any further ado. He had a need for his armor to be removed and scrubbed of the blood that now dripped from his breastplate in small dabs as he walked. There was another chance this evening for him to drown his troubles, if not in alcohol, as his compatriots would, then in flesh.
“You must not trouble so,” Ylena said to him silently as he walked into the antechamber outside the main floor of the battleground. His squires were already attending to him, unclipping the massive hunks of armor from his shoulders and undoing the series of straps and buckles it took to secure it all together.
“And how am I not? Aon wakes within the week. He will usurp my throne—”
“Such as was agreed, my lord.”
“He will usurp my throne,” Edu said again angrily. Never would he truly accept this treaty of his with Aon. He knew the warlock felt the same. “And whatever secret behind the girl he will use to his own ends!”
“Such is his right.”
“I should kill her before he has a chance,” he replied and clenched his fist. It was free of the metal gauntlet he had worn a moment earlier, and he was happy to feel his own nails press into his palm.
“The council agreed.”
“Damn the council.”
“Be wary, my lord. Our world has been left unchanged and predictable in all ways since The Great War. Our world is dying, my king. She is the first anomaly we have seen since those days. I would not snuff her out of spite alone.”
“Spite?” Edu clenched both fists and lowered his head. “I seek to save this world from what Aon may do!”
“She may be the key to our survival. You may yet see Under destroyed in keeping her from Aon.” Ylena’s words were the truth. While she did not view the future as Ziza might, Ylena saw Edu’s mind as clearly as one might look through a pane of glass.
Their world was dying. With every day that passed, it was found shrinking and fading slowly to black, disappearing into the void. Even as their world aligned with the world of Earth, and they took souls as they were granted, nothing changed. Nothing was unexpected. Not until the mortal girl arrived. Not until Lydia was cast into the blood and was refused.
It was this potential that Edu would not let fall into Aon’s hands. Not while Edu slept, ignorant and absolved in his crypt. Edu would speak to the girl. Learn of her dealings with the warlock. Tomorrow, the council would vote on what to do with the girl. Tomorrow, she would die.
He did not enjoy the thought of needless permanent death. Even if it was a mortal such as her. She had shown such potential—such spirit. It saddened Edu that Lydia would not come to join the fabric of their world.
Tonight, he would meet with the girl. He would have from her all she knew of her condition. And if not that, then perhaps he could find another way to fill her evening.
***
Thank god for alcohol.
Lydia was at a long beer hall-style table with benches and tables set into rows. The place was enormous, with vaulted ceilings in thatched straw spanning between whole debarked trees that were used to support the giant structure. Hundreds of people were grouped around tables, laughing and chatting. They all had symbols and masks of six different colors like Tim had told her. Music was being played by several people at once in various places. Someone had a lute, someone had a guitar, and a group of people were singing a shanty over by one section of the room.
The tournament had been in a massive, Roman Colosseum-style stadium, where contenders had fought to the death in matches. Every time someone was about to die, she had to bury her head in her hands. Tim had laughed at her and found her chagrin incredibly amusing.
Speaking of, it seemed like Tim was back for a second helping of her discomfort.
“Better slow down, doll,” Tim said with a grin as he sat on the bench next to her.
“Go away, Tim,” she muttered and looked down into her glass of wine. “I’d like to go back to my dinky jail cell now.”
“Aren’t you having fun?”
“Seriously?”
Tim laughed again, louder this time. “You’re all right, kid. Sorry, I didn’t come here to chat. Edu wants to see you.”
Lydia groaned and lowered her head. This wasn’t going to go well. No matter what.
Tim stood, and his movement made her raise her head to look at him. He gestured for her to follow him again. With a long breath, she pushed herself up from the table. She nearly caught her dress on the corner of the bench she was sitting on. She wasn’t used to wearing things with skirts, and the long, gray, lace-up number she had been given to wear was a far cry from anything she’d typically ever pick out of a rack.
In the shadows of the room, she could see figures hunched in the darkness, enjoying themselves. Many of them in groups. Well, Tim hadn’t been kidding. She tried to think about a world where nobody could die, nobody could get pregnant or sick. Where society didn’t lecture them about how that kind of thing was immoral and wrong. Without all of that, and with an eternity of life stretching out in front of them, she could see why pleasure of any kind would become important. When your world didn’t change, and you couldn’t die or raise a family, what else was there? Boredom?
Of course, everyone was drunk. Of course, everyone loved violence and sex. It didn’t matter. There was none of the fallout to worry over. Tim and Lydia had to step around a couple who were nearly naked. The man had the woman’s legs around his waist, and she was pinned to the wood beam of the hall by his impatient, passionate thrusts.
Lydia averted her eyes and couldn’t help but feel her face go warm in a blush. She wasn’t a prude, but she’d never just walked past two people casually screwing. Her college experience hadn’t been like that; she went to med school. People were too busy studying. Or maybe she went to the wrong parties.
Tim brought her through a door at the end of the room that went to a smaller chamber. She took one step through it, saw what was in front of her, and immediately turned around and faced the wall.
Holy shit.
It took Lydia a long time to work up the nerve to turn back around to face forward. Tim was cracking up laughing hysterically next to her, nearly doubled over, his hands resting on his thighs. Her face was likely fourteen shades of crimson. To his credit, Tim had tried to warn her. Sex was not taboo here. Therefore, it was on full display. She did her best to ignore the writhing bodies that hung around the edges of the room on piles of pillows or up against the walls. It had been what was in the center of the room that had made her “nope out.”
Edu was lying there on a large circular platform that was covered in pillows. It had a headboard, and he was propped up against it. The man was completely naked except for his mask, and it was the first time she had seen him without his armor.
The mask was the only reason she knew it was him, with its deep crimson, dragon-like skull. He didn’t have a helmet on, so his horns were gone, but the face was the same. He had the appearance of a bodybuilder or a professional wrestler. His entire body was covered in red ink markings and scars.
Two women were…well, enjoying him. Their nude bodies were writhing over his in complete abandon. Lydia looked at the ceiling, quickly decided that looking up was the only safe bet. Her face felt on fire. Tim was still snickering desperately from her side, enjoying her embarrassment
.
“Shut up, Tim,” she grumbled at him.
That only made him laugh harder. “I mean, if Edu’s too intimidating to start with, I’m nothing to sneeze at, but I’d be glad to warm you up for him,” he teased. She was sure his proposition was just as sincere as it was meant to goad her.
That, she could react to. She turned to look at Tim, balled up her fist, and punched him hard in the arm. He let out a yelp and grabbed the afflicted spot. It was more out of surprise than pain, she was sure. His startled expression bloomed into a grin, as if he was glad she fought back. “Oh, you’re a fighter, huh? I can get on board with that. C’mere, baby. Give us a kiss.”
“Fuck off, Tim, or I swear to god I’ll—”
“Lord Edu requests you bring her forward.”
Lydia knew that voice. She turned her head and desperately tried to avoid looking at the two women who were fawning over Edu’s prone body. Standing by the side of the platform was a woman in a long, red dress with straight black hair and a mask that covered the upper half of her face. She had been there on the streets of Boston when Edu had first chased her and Nick.
Lydia found the ability to step forward and tried very, very hard not to watch the two nude women as they were lavishing Edu’s massive body—all of it—with hungry mouths.
“These two were taken in the Ceremony of the Fall yesterday, with your friend Nicholas,” the woman in red said. Something told Lydia the woman’s words weren’t totally her own. Add it to the list of weird shit she had seen in the past few days. “They have accepted their place. They have come to embrace their king with joy.”
“Good for them,” Lydia mumbled, unable to swallow the snarky response to the rather pompous explanation of the display going on in front of her.
“He invites you to join them.”
“Is Nick okay?” Lydia ignored his offer entirely and fought the urge to run for the door.
Edu snorted once, seemingly annoyed that she preferred to worry over her friend than to climb onto the bed.
“Your friend has Fallen to the House of Moons, with the shifters. He is more than okay.” The woman in red paused and seemed to listen to something. “Master Edu desires your company this evening. Will you oblige him?”
“No. I’m not going to have sex with him to save my life.”
“It has nothing to do with saving your life. He thought perhaps you would merely like to enjoy your evening as his guest.”
Lydia put her hands over her face and laughed, mentally exhausted by everything and everyone she had met. “No, thank you.”
“Would you rather lay with the warlock?”
Lydia couldn’t help but look up at Edu in wide-eyed shock. When the man let out a long sigh and pushed the women gently off him, she knew she had played right into his hand. Lydia was forced to step backward as Edu stood before her.
Even without his armor, he was huge. He must have been seven feet tall or more and broad as a truck. The man was all stacked muscle. His arms and his chest were marked with scars mingled with rows of the esoteric red writing. Edu had the body of a man who used it for a purpose, not just for show. He had long, curly, auburn brown hair. It fell along the sides of his crimson mask in waves.
Lydia didn’t dare look down. She’d seen enough to know he was to scale. She didn’t need more proof.
“It is no use lying. How do you know of Aon?” the woman in red asked.
“He…” Oh, god. Well, here goes nothing. Or everything. “He shows up in my dreams. Threatens me, taunts me. This last time, I—he tortured me.” Lydia felt herself go pale at the memory of Aon’s claw buried into her ribs. Lydia pressed a hand to her side reflexively.
“Why?” the woman asked. For Edu, she was beginning to suspect. Edu had yet to say a word.
“I was stupid and opened my fat mouth and said something I shouldn’t have,” Lydia admitted, staring directly ahead into Edu’s massive chest. The markings on his chest were winding and cryptic. They matched the marks she had seen on people’s faces or arms. But Edu had a great deal more than anyone else Lydia had seen so far. He was a king, and marks equaled power, she remembered.
Edu chuckled. It was a low, deep sound, and not unpleasant.
Lydia jumped, startled, as he put a hand on her shoulder, his large palm resting suddenly against where it joined her neck. His touch was hot, and he curled his fingers around behind her. His thumb rested against her jawline, and she felt the pad run along her in a slow line. It was rough, raspy—calloused, but not harsh.
Lydia turned her head away from his touch, but he raised his other hand to rest against her jaw on the other side, catching her head in his grasp. He tilted her head to look up at the visage of his mask and tilted his own head slightly to one side. Lydia wanted to pull away, but the man could likely end her in a gesture if she pissed him off.
“You say you have no dealings with the warlock? That it is not a willing arrangement between you two?”
“Have you met him? Fuck no,” Lydia swore reflexively. That brought a louder laugh out of Edu, dashing any of Lydia’s concerns about speaking out of turn. “He shows up in my dreams, chases me around, taunts me with that damn claw of his. I just…I just want to go home.”
“Master Edu apologizes that he cannot grant such a wish.” The lady in red spoke again. Lydia winced and shut her eyes. One of Edu’s large hands lifted from her face to stroke her hair. “He asks again if you will join him this evening. Master Edu respects and appreciates the strength that burns within you. Your time here in Under has been nothing but suffering. He wishes to impart some joy and pleasure into it.”
“I’m sure it’s a great honor to sleep with a king, but—”
“He has no intention of sleeping,” the woman in red interjected.
If Lydia could blush harder, she was. “Right, well, okay, to screw a king, then. But…I’d rather not, sorry.”
Edu sighed and turned her head to look up at him, a large hand cupped under her jaw. Even as the woman in red spoke, she knew the words came from the behemoth in front of her. “It grieves him then, that you will not accept his comfort before he must take your life come the morning.”
“What?” Lydia cried and jumped back away from him, not caring if it ticked him off now.
“The council voted to save your life on the condition that the warlock had nothing to do with you. If he resides inside your dreams, if he has pledged to claim you, your danger to this world is confirmed. You must die before the warlock rises.”
“No.” Lydia took another step back. “Please, no. I don’t have anything to do with this!”
“Master Edu knows this. He knows it is by no work of your own that you have been dealt this hand. But the deed must be done, regardless. That is why he wished to spend the night with you.”
“When were you going to tell me? Before or after you screwed me?” Lydia shouted angrily at him. She barely noticed the scene she was creating had interrupted the activities of everyone else. They all stopped to watch.
“Never,” the woman said, even as Edu shrugged. “He would have snapped your neck while you slept. He does not desire you to suffer or be afraid. Your plight is unfortunate enough.”
For the second time in two days, she was going to tell off a king. Well, if she was going to die in the morning, at least she would go out with a bang. “Go rot in hell, you overgrown sack of shit. I’m out. I’m done. You can go back to your little fuck-stage, you freak.”
And with that, Lydia whirled from Edu and stormed out of the room. Tim went to stop her, but she shoved him out of the way, knocking him into a post with the unexpected outburst. She did her best to storm from the room, even if she wanted to run for the far door of Edu’s hall and never stop.
“Hey! Doll!” Tim called after her.
Lydia began walking down the hall toward the door, trying to stay to the sides and the shadows as best she could. She needed space to think. She had to try to escape Edu’s imprisonment. She had to flee Under. Somehow.
Scrambling, she attempted to come up with a plan. Lydia passed a table with a knife and a fork lying atop it. Without thinking, she picked them up and sat on a bench to slip them into one of the knee-high boots they had given her to wear for the evening.
There wasn’t the slightest idea in her head of what she was going to do to escape a world like this with a knife and fork, but…hey. It was better than nothing.
Tim was on her quickly and stood in front of her. She looked up at him and wiped at the tears that ran down her face.
“Toots, that…that was dumb. I get it. I really get it. But that was dumb.”
“What would you have done?”
“The same thing,” Tim replied with a laugh through his nose. “Edu told me to bring you back to your cell. Said to tell you that your execution will come in the morning.”
“Great. Yeah, I know, the king’s busy. He has some people to screw,” she mumbled as she stood back up. All the way back to the carriage, and through the trip back to Edu’s keep, she was silent.
In the morning, she was going to die. There was no stopping Edu. Even if the man was just an ordinary mortal, he outweighed her and outclassed her several times over. She couldn’t stop him if he wanted to snap her neck, let alone whatever else a supernatural king of Under could muster up to end her life.
Right now, she had a fleeting, dim hope. She didn’t have a plan yet. She didn’t know how she was going to pull it off. But she had to try to run. She had to try to escape. It was that or accept death. Something she could never do.
She’d fail.
But damn it all, she had to try.
Chapter Fourteen
It hadn’t taken Evie long to press for details when Lydia was returned to the jail cell. When Lydia told the girl she had opted not to sleep with Edu, Evie was clearly disappointed. In fact, she seemed to skip right over the impending death sentence part entirely.
“Are you serious? You could’ve slept with him?” Evie asked.
King Of Flames (The Masks of Under Book 1) Page 18