Blood and Treasure: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Half-Demon Warlock Book 3)

by J. A. Cipriano

  She shook her head, denying me, which hurt like a mother.

  “These are issues that have to be dealt with within the family. Sorry. ” She turned and-with movements as fluid as the ones that brought me to her throne in the first place, Renee floated away.

  Her words stuck with me as she took nearly every ounce of the blinding white light with her.

  Within the family.

  I had a family, it seemed. The idea rattled around in my head and fell on all the wrong places. It didn’t seem real, and what was more, it didn’t seem right. I wasn’t the type of man my father had been. I was a better one. I’d spent my entire life building myself up so that the man I was wouldn’t resemble the man who made me at all. And what good had it done? My father left me before I was even born. The first time I ever saw him was strapped to a table in a dungeon residing in Hell. So, you know, not the best experience.

  Here I was, looking at someone who very well might be my son. A son I’d never met, a son who had lived his entire life never knowing what it was like to have a father. History had repeated itself in the cruelest way possible, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.

  “I didn’t know when you left, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Essie said when the door closed behind Renee. Now that the sole heir of Zeus was gone, the room was much dimmer, much more like a regular room. I could make out all the details. The walls were stone, and etched with the same sorts of symbols that were on her now darkened throne.

  “I wasn’t thinking that,” I answered quickly. “I wasn’t thinking anything actually. I can’t. I literally can’t think anything right now.”

  It was the truth. My mind was still empty, still spinning with the sort of fog that could only exist by being blindsided by the most severe of life changing revelations.

  “I didn’t though.” Essie swallowed, looking for words. “When you left, I wasn’t aware-”

  “Left?” I asked, my eyes growing wide. “Is that what you think?” I looked over at the boy. “Is that what she told you, that I left? I didn’t leave. They threw me out like trash. The Astra Coven saw that my demon side was going to be a problem, and they sent me away. They forced me out into the world, banished me like I was nothing.”

  “Don’t,” Essie said, pulling the boy so he was sort of hiding behind her. “These people are his family. They’re the only people who have ever been there for him. Don’t badmouth them to him.”

  “Are you serious right now?” I asked, my tone louder and more intense than was perhaps smart at the moment. “These people are his family? Them? Don’t be ridiculous! They’re not his family. If he’s my son, then he’s my family!”

  “If?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at me. “Are you saying I’m a liar? Who, pray tell, do you think Luc’s father is if not you? What kind of woman do you think I am?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying,” I answered, half-flustered, half-frustrated. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe he is mine, but how am I supposed to know that? “

  “Because it makes sense, Roy. It’s the reason your death wouldn’t have opened the portal. It’s the reason your father didn’t kill me when you were down there.” She took a deep breath. “When I found out I was pregnant, I thought about finding you. I wanted to, but after what happened between us, after…that night, I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know if you would even want him. I didn’t know what you’d expect me to do, if you’d even want me to ke-”

  “Don’t say that in front of him,” I spit back, my body tensing up with anger. “Is that what you’ve been telling him? Have you been telling him that I was the type of person who’d want you to get rid of him?”

  I looked at the boy. His eyes were still closed. His hand was still in hers.

  “You never liked yourself, Roy,” she answered and there was far too much truth in her words for my liking. “Even when we were together, even before things spun out of control, there was always a darkness inside of you. You were always unhappy about who you were, about what you were. I didn’t know how you’d react. We always talked about it, and you said you didn’t think you’d ever want to put someone else through what you had been put through.”

  “I know what I said,” I snapped, anger rising inside of me. How dare she throw those words back in my face? That was a long time ago, and it certainly wasn’t my fault. “But that was when we were talking about hypotheticals. This is a person, Essie. He’s a boy, my son. And you kept him from me.”

  “I know that,” she said. “And I’m sorry. If that’s the way you feel, if that’s the way you would have felt all those years ago, then I’m sorry for keeping the truth from you. I did what I thought was best. I did what I thought was right for my son.”

  “For our son,” I corrected, feeling as though I’d been left out of the loop quite enough for one lifetime. “If you’re telling me the truth, then he’s ours.”

  She nodded and looked down at the boy.

  “You’re still not convinced? I’m sorry you feel that way, because your return couldn’t have come at a better time.” She shook her head. “You see, our son has a problem, and I think you’re the only one who can help him.” She looked at him. “Open your eyes Luc.”

  He did so, his eyes bursting into a red glow, giving me all the proof I needed.

  “Oh my God,” I said and, instinctively moved toward the boy I know knew without a shadow of a doubt came from my loins. “You’re- you’re-” My heart broke. “I gave it to you, didn’t I? I passed this thing onto you.” I shook my head, guilt pouring over me in a way it never had before. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, son.”

  “Then make it up to me,” he said, his voice lighter than I imagined, his small head nodding firmly. “If you’re sorry, then teach me to be better. Teach me to live with it.” He swallowed hard. “Or teach me to get rid of it.” He sneered at me. “Otherwise, I don’t know what you’re good for.”

  16

  “This guy couldn’t have met us somewhere in the middle? I’m not sure why we had to come all the way to Savannah,” I told Scott as we stepped through the portal and out into the streets of the rustic river city.

  I had been through Georgia a lot before deciding to settle down in Atlanta. I had even spent a few days out here, taking ferry boats and eating what the signs around town called ‘the best taffy in the South.’ Something about here just felt off though. I always felt like I didn’t belong, like Savannah with its history and old world charm would fit someone else a bit better. You know, someone who had less baggage than I happened to have.

  “Because we’re asking him for a favor, Roy. It doesn’t seem right to make him travel.”

  “I’m sure he’d understand, seeing as how we have so much to deal with,” I said.

  Scott scoffed. “Because distance is such a big deal to people like us.” He turned back to me, a hint of the mischief I had come to know in my brother present in his eyes. “Portals are there for a reason, bro.”

  “I guess so,” I answered, looking around. “Still, I wish we could have done this at home.”

  “That’s half the point,” Scott answered with a shrug. “You’ve been gone for seven years, Roy.”

  “Doesn’t feel like seven years from where I’m standing,” I answered because, it sort of didn’t. I mean okay, I’d had some rude awakenings but at the same time, so far, aside from the most obvious changes, everything else seemed sadly similar. It’d gotten to the point where I couldn’t do anything without looking to see if it was different.

  “I know that,” Scott replied. “Which is why we can’t do this in Atlanta. Back there, all you’re going to be thinking about is how much everything has changed. You’re going to go down every street, look in every window, and look at the faces of everyone you talk to, and all you’ll be able to process is that it isn’t the way you left it. But here, Roy, out here in the Big Easy, all things are new to you.”

  “New Orleans is the Big Easy, Scott. Not Savannah,” I said, rolling my
eyes at him.

  “You sure?” he asked with a scrunched up nose.

  “Pretty sure,” I replied.

  “Well then I need to resend some post cards.” He grinned.

  “I get what you’re saying though,” I said, nodding as Scott started off toward an alley. All the streets in this busy city were cobblestone, and they all looked like they were laid two hundred years ago. “And I appreciate it. You’re looking out for me. I get it, but I don’t think we can afford to do this. I came back for a reason. In case you forgot, something’s coming, Scott.” I took a deep breath. “And I have a son. I mean, Jesus, I have a son…”

  “I know something’s coming, little brother. That’s exactly why we have to do this,” he said, shaking his head at me.

  “Because we don’t have time?” I replied, following Scott as he took a sharp left down a long back way.

  “There’s always time for some brotherly bonding, and this guy has serious intel on the Tantibus. He’s one of the only people in the world who’s actually dealt with one of them and lived to tell about it.” Scott grinned and came to a stop in the center of the alley. “Now if I can just find the key.”

  “The key?” I asked. “We’re in the middle of the street.”

  “Street is an optimistic term for it, and I don’t mean ‘key’ in the literal sense. This place can travel. It moves throughout the city like-well, like magic. You have to be a supernatural creature to find it. The key is more like a supernatural indent that directs you.”

  “Seems like a lot of trouble to go through just to get to a bar,” I shrugged, throwing out some magical feelers of my own and trying to find the indent.

  “The War Room isn’t just a bar,” Scott scoffed. “It’s practically a religious experience. I mean, where else are you going to find nearly every sort of supernatural race all mingling together?”

  “You mean other than in Atlanta?” I asked, making my feelers stretch even further. “Or have you forgotten about Fulton’s little mix and match game. She had all kinds of things banding together to rain terror down on the city.”

  “I remember the stories,” Scott said. “But the War Room isn’t like that. People just come in here to shoot the breeze, to talk about what it’s like to be us.” He shook his head. “And it’s all in a safe place.” He grinned at me. “And you want to talk about it like it’s Dave and Buster’s.”

  “I would never do that,” I scoffed. “Dave and Buster’s is amazing. Or, at least, it was seven years ago.”

  “It’s still the bomb,” Scott replied reluctantly. “But that’s not the point.”

  “People still say things are ‘the bomb?’” I asked, my face twisting into one of the first smiles I’d felt in recent memory.

  “No, but I do,” Scott admitted. His head turned sharply to the left and a sly grin appeared over his lips. “I win.”

  “You win what?” I asked, following my brother as he marched toward the end of the alley.

  “I found the indent. That means I win,” he said without looking back at me.

  “Whatever. It wasn’t a competition,” I answered, glaring at his back.

  “It wasn’t a competition because you didn’t win,” he said, settling at the end of the street.

  He raised his hands, and they began to glow with golden energy. He brought them together, twisting them in what I soon recognized to be one of the very first spells we’d learned as kids. It was an ‘awakening’ spell more or less; something meant to uncover hidden magic in a surrounding area.

  As the wall began to glow with shining flickers of light, I saw it was working.

  “This is it? The War Room?” I asked, following Scott as appeared door magically appeared in front of him.

  “It is, baby brother,” Scott said, stepping through the door.

  “Okay then,” I said even though he wasn’t listening because he was already inside. I took a deep breath and followed him through the door, and as I did, a rush of energy shot through me.

  Inside was pretty standard looking for a dive bar. A long wooden bar stretched across the left wall, neon lights glowed overhead, shining on vamps, demons, and all sorts of other things and tinting them with a red hue. In the back, a pack of wolves was arguing from around a pool table.

  “When does the religious part start?” I asked, looking over at Scott.

  He chuckled back at me, shaking his head. “Depends on how much whiskey you’re willing to down.” He walked toward the bar, finding a pair of empty stools between a panther shifter and an overdressed sprite. “Hey there Ralphie. Long time, no see,” Scott said, speaking to the overweight and scruffy bartender.

  The guy practically grunted at him and in the time it took me to seat myself beside Scott, he had slid two glasses filled to the brim with whiskey and water across the bar toward us.

  “How do you do that?” Scott asked, lifting the glass to his lips and taking a quick couple sips. “Swallowing hard, he added, “I haven’t been here in years and you still remember my drink.”

  “It’s not hard,” Ralphie, who practically reeked of fairy, answered, before his eyes trailed over to me. “Who’s this?”

  “Baby brother,” Scott answered, taking another sip.

  “Just yours or everybody's?” Ralphie asked, his eyebrows darting upward.

  “You wouldn’t want the responsibility,” I answered, taking my first sip of whiskey in seven earth years. It burned in the best possible and, though I had always been loathed to admit it when Scott was right about anything, I couldn’t deny it was damn good whiskey.

  “Where’s C-guy?” Scott asked, finishing his drink and pushing the glass back toward Ralphie.

  “Last I heard, he was having witch trouble,” Ralphie answered, filling the glass back up before practically tossing it back to my brother.

  “Who doesn’t?” Scott answered, half sarcastically. After all, Witches and warlocks were basically two sides of the same coin. “You know witches. Can’t live with them, can’t legally burn them anymore.”

  “Who’s C-guy?” I asked, still trailing behind my brother as I nursed my first drink.

  “Just a guy I know,” Scott said. “He’s got a really unique set of skills. He helped me out of a jam or two back in the day. I was hoping he was here, that we could talk.”

  “His unique set of skills involve therapy?” I asked, finally finishing my drink. I waved Ralphie away when he offered to refill it.

  “He’s been around a long time. He tends to have perspective on things. More importantly, he knows what it’s like to feel like things have changed at the drop of a hat.” Scott shrugged. “I guess that comes with the territory when you’ve been alive for thousands and thousands of years.”

  “Thousands?” I asked, leaning forward. “What kind of demon is this guy?”

  “He’s not a demon, per se,” Scott answered. “He’s more of an oddity. Like a-”

  A glass bottle slammed against my brother’s head, shattering across it and sprinkling shards of brown sharpness to the floor.

  Looking back, I saw a particularly gnarly looking wolf biker. He stood there, the bottle’s end in his hand and a set of sharpened incisors jutting from his pulled back lips.

  “You son of a bitch!” the biker growled. “You’ve got a lot of nerve to show your ugly ass back up here after what you did.”

  Anger rushed through me. I had no idea what my brother had done. Knowing him, he probably he deserved what he just got and more. But I’d be damned (again) if I was going to let some leather bound lap dog lay a furry finger on my family.

  Power rushed through me, and my eyes went red as I kicked the stool back and turned around.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” I said, letting my energy pulsate through me with almost reckless abandon. This place might have been a sort of oasis from the violence, but it was about to host one hell of a beat down.

  17

  “Royce. You don’t have to do this,” I heard Scott say from behind me
as I huffed at the wolf. I knew the tone of his voice. It was the same one he used whenever my demon side came out. He was afraid I was going to lose control again, and to be fair, he was probably right.

  The last time I let the demon come out to play, I had killed Bandhal. I’d let the demon come out and play and it ripped him away from his precious Rain Queen, leaving him an empty husk on the floor. I felt like I had more control over things now, but to be honest, I might just have been trying to be optimistic.

  Looking past the wolf, I saw more bikers filling in behind him. This wasn’t a Scott vs this guy fight. This was a Scott vs an entire wolf pack fight.

  Good, I thought, my heart racing and my mind taking a back seat to the bloodlust now taking me over. I could blow off some steam.

  “I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding,” Scott said, standing up and shaking excess glass shards from his clothes

  “You think I’m going to back down just because you brought a demon with you?” the main wolf said, his body actively taking on a more lupine form. A long snout pulled out from his face. His ears pointed, and his skin darkened, ready for fur. “I ain’t scared of a demon, you punk ass bitch. Just like I ain’t scared of you.”

  “Good,” I answered quickly, trying to keep calm. “Fear makes you taste worse. If I’m going to take out an entire pack of wolves today, I’d rather it not be too salty.”

  “Not in here, you’re not,” Ralphie said from behind me.

  “Too late,” I answered and ran forward.

  Power surged through me, and I let loose. Blasts of blue energy poured from my hands, egged on by the anger and frustration about what had happened to me and all the time I'd lost I had allowed to build up in me throughout the time I had been back.

  The wolves sprang into action, but I wasn’t worried. I had dealt with more than a few wolves in my time. Pack or not, bikers or not, they didn’t stand a chance against me.

  I collided with the main wolf, my eyes still red with demonic fury. The demon inside of me ached for release, but I didn’t want to go down that road. While I’d trash talked them a few seconds ago aside, I wasn’t planning on giving them the demon treatment.