King Cave

by Scarlett Dawn

  Eventually, he cleared his throat. “I want to thank you.” Again, I stilled, but this time in shock. “Thank you for saving my life, my son’s, and Antonio’s. It couldn’t have been easy doing it alone.” Soft words. “Thank you for taking care of Ezra last night when I couldn’t.”

  My chin quivered, but I dropped my hand from my mouth and stared him directly in the back of his head. “You’re welcome.”

  He nodded once. “You need to find your Prodigy today.”

  My gaze instantly went to Ezra’s sleeping form. Even in slumber, his eyebrows were furrowed, his jaw clenched. His respite hadn’t come until many hours after he had initially awoken. And still, pain practically radiated from his resting form.

  “I’ll be here for him,” Cahal stated, his voice sounding more direct. My head snapped up and I saw he had turned and was watching his son. He murmured quietly, “You still need to do what you came to, and he will still need to do his duty.”

  Straight to the crux of the matter. Duty. What we lived and breathed. I despised it most days…but hating it didn’t change the fact it still needed to be done. By me and him.

  Our fucking duties as King Vampire and Queen Shifter.

  My lips curled cruelly. “Just breathe?”

  His gaze slammed to mine. “Precisely.”

  After cleaning up, since I still had blood on me, by sneaking into the house down the street after watching the owners leave for work, I called for a taxi service from a nearby gas station while skimming the headlines of the day’s newspaper. The attack on the ice-cream parlor made front page news, an unknown Vampire being named the culprit of the killings, but more suspects were on the loose, driving a Hummer — it gave my license plate number — which had been spotted leaving the scene of the crime driving sporadically. I had at least been smart enough not to take the Hummer out, just in case this had happened, plus there had surely been cameras around the grocery store I had driven through. Also, from what I read in the article, Cahal had been intelligent enough to leave witnesses at the morgue’s explosive fire — the reason why they hadn’t been able to identify Vivian — who believed delinquent teenagers had started it.

  Sighing heavily, I tossed the paper and waited for the cab to arrive, Bonnie my companion, while making myself eat, exhausted and completely feeling like shit…but I had my duty to contend with. And as luck normally liked to fuck with me, when my cab arrived I quickly found I was screwed. I jumped into the cab and told the man he would be driving me all over the city, and that I would pay him every half-hour until we arrived at my destination. He only sat there, staring back at me. Then, he started gibbering.

  Uh.

  In Spanish.

  God hated me. That was all I could reason as my brain swam. Lifting a finger, I quickly dialed Pearl on my cell. All the while, the cabbie wouldn’t shut up.

  Pearl didn’t answer.

  I called Jack. No answer.

  Sighing in resignation, I dialed Ezra, not wanting to disturb him, but needing him nonetheless.

  “Sweetheart?” he answered on the second ring, sounding groggy. A pause, then a holler, “Wait, where the fuck are you?” That tone was one of worry and irritation and being flat out pissed.

  “I’m doing my duty,” I explained, my tone letting him know it was the last thing I wanted to be doing. “I’m sorry I’m not there for you right now, but I need to find the brat as Elder Zeller,” and it had definitely been Elder Zeller and not Ezra’s dad speaking, “reminded me this morning.” I paused, sticking one finger in my ear to hear past the cabbie, then said quietly, “I really am sorry I’m not there for you.”

  I heard him sniff, and he spoke just as quietly. “I understand, sweetheart, and you were here for me last night when I needed you the most.” There was a long pause, then he cleared his throat, his voice gruff, “Who the hell is the fucker in the background?”

  Ah, yes. “Do you speak Spanish?”

  There was silence over the line before I heard a broken chuckle — only the barest remnant of his normal self — as he managed to find a smidge of humor in my situation amongst his heartache. “In a bit of a pinch?”

  My sigh was heavy. “Yes. I’ve decided God hates me.”

  Ezra snorted. “If God hates you, then I’m definitely number one on his hit list.”

  “We should go to church sometime.” I wasn’t really joking.

  “Agreed.” It didn’t sound like he was, either. “A little love from above would be appreciated.”

  “Not really what I meant.”

  His voice was tired. “I know, although, it doesn’t make what I said any less true.”

  I rubbed my ear, the driver damn near to giving me an impossible headache with his constant jabbering. “So, do you speak Spanish or not?”

  “Of course,” he rumbled, and then he started speaking Spanish in my ear, sounding a helluva lot more yummy than the idiot in front of me.

  When he stopped talking, I cleared my throat hard. “One day, I’d really like to know what you just said, but in the meantime, can you explain to this guy I want to drive around town and pay him every half-hour until I get to my destination?”

  Now he sounded snippy. “Only if you promise to call regularly to keep me updated.”

  My lips thinned. “Really, Ezra? Blackmail, right now?”

  “If it makes you call me, then yes.”

  My eyes crossed. His demanding logic boggled the mind. Whatever. “Fine.” I needed him right now. “I’ll call you regularly for updates.” I probably would have, anyway. “Now, will you talk to the man?”

  “Yes,” he murmured, sounding pleased with himself.

  Ugh. I held my phone out to the driver, saying slowly, “Talk to the arrogant asshole.”

  “I heard that!” Ezra shouted over the line as the driver took the phone. “I’m in mourning here, dammit. Cut me a little fucking slack!”

  Feeling a smidge guilty for being grumpy, I watched as the driver used my phone and spoke so fast I wasn’t sure at first if Ezra would be able to catch it all. But apparently he had no problem because the driver chuckled, glancing back at me.

  His eyes hooded.

  He fluttered a hand at my chest. Gibbered.

  Then lower. Gibbered.

  He listened, then went rigid, and quickly turned his back to me. Gibbered faster than ever. Nodded. Chucked the phone over his shoulder into my lap, and started driving.

  Gingerly, I picked up my abused phone and asked into the receiver, “Do I even want to know what you said to the man?”

  “Fucking pervert,” Ezra rumbled absently, a definite growl sounding in his tone. “All I did was ask him to verify what you were wearing, not to explain your assets in vivid detail.”

  Pinching the bridge of my nose, I murmured, “I love you, baby, and I know you’re going through a horrible time right now, but you still managed to try my patience to the breaking point.”

  A few phone calls and many miles later, I was at 3091 Salamanca Lane, Las Vegas, Nevada. I stood on the sidewalk in the afternoon daylight, staring at the building the die was telling me to enter. The cab driver sat two blocks down, waiting happily after not only driving me to this destination, roaming the city for hours with me pointing directions, but also after receiving a huge tip — bribe — in his grubby hands to wait a half-hour to see if I would need him again, after I literally used my fingers to tell him how long to wait and pointed at his dashboard clock.

  I stared at the door, completely exhausted, having gotten maybe three hours sleep last night and wondering if I should get some more before attempting to knock. Hell, I couldn’t even stop to appreciate the beauty of the architecture. All it looked like to me was a thin three-story building — one of many lining the street — that was the color of sand, and lots of wrought-iron railings on tiny balconies. I yawned, scratching my neck and blinking blurrily at the door.

  I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, but I did notice a curtain flutter. Well, the natives had noticed m
e. Best to get in there before they fled, because if they were still living in this highly populated area, they had to be extremely wary. In other words, a flight risk, and I wasn’t about to go running after anyone right now.

  Popping my neck, I moved forward on wooden legs, getting Ezra’s number ready on my phone just in case I needed assistance. Throughout the day, he had sounded as if he was slowly waking from a dream, gradually becoming more like himself as he spent the time he wasn’t talking to me with his dad. He knew I had found my mark since I had called him before I exited the cab, and told me to call him if I needed him…well, he had actually ordered that last bit, but I preferred to think of it as a request. So, my finger was poised over the button, ready to dial.

  I knocked.

  No one answered.

  I knocked again. “Hello? Anybody home?” Please speak English.

  I was tired of the gibbering.

  The door opened a smidge. Just enough to get the toe of my boot inside, so the door couldn’t be slammed. It was a Com woman who answered. My eyebrows snapped together and my gun was instantly pointed at her head. “Let me in.”

  She opened the door.

  Thank fuck, English lives.

  I stepped inside, and after scenting the air and glancing around, I put my phone into my pocket, keeping my gun aimed on the Com as she closed and locked the door, trembling. The entrance was thin with a wrought-iron spiral staircase rising up to the second floor. The floor under me was tile, and expensive artwork in taupe hung on the wall. Additionally, the smell of lion hung heavily in the air, along with an old, fading scent of…I sniffed again…jackal. Long dried Mystical blood also tainted the air.

  When the Com turned to me, I spoke, “Are you the owner of this house?”

  “No, miss. I only work for the owner.” Her hand was slowly creeping behind her.

  “If you’re smart, you’ll put your hands in the air.” I would shoot her in a heartbeat.

  Her jaw hardened, but she nodded and did as told.

  “Turn around.” I slowly started forward. “I won’t hurt you, if you do as I say.”

  She actually glared. “Then why are you here?”

  I scented…her protection. Ah, a Com who was a Mys lover. I didn’t know we still had those. “I’m not here to hurt anyone. I only want to talk with the owner. But finding you, a Com, at the door was a bit of a surprise.” I paused at her clear confusion while her narrowed eyes took in my form. “Believe me, darling, I’m Mys, and you’re not. Therefore, I’ll still want you to turn your ass around so I can disarm you.”

  I froze, keeping my gun aimed, while hearing from the second floor the click of a safety being thumbed on a gun. The Com didn’t hear it, couldn’t with her weaker ears, but I quickly — since my fucking back was to the upstairs balcony — and loudly stated, “I mean you no harm.” I just want to take the boy. Yeah, that didn’t sound right. “Are you the owner?”

  “You’re trespassing,” a man’s deep rumble came from the balcony. The Com woman smirked, but was smart enough to keep her hands in the air. “Leave now and I won’t shoot you.” His voice held the bite of a lion Shifter.

  Bingo.

  I snorted, a little delirious from fatigue. I definitely should have gotten more sleep before entering this house. “I’m your Queen. You’d better not shoot.” I paused. “Or threaten me again since it’s against the Law, but I’ll let that one slide since you’re living in plain view in a city full of Coms.” Idiot. I didn’t say that, but it was definitely implied.

  Full on silence, then he replied, “I don’t have a Queen.” He didn’t mention a King.

  I sighed. The no fanfare and no party of my crowning didn’t help this issue, even though I had appreciated not being made a spectacle of. “I’m Queen Ruckler. Sent to find the next Prodigy.” I growled low, letting my wolf take voice, the Com woman’s eyes flying wide at hearing the evidence I was, in fact, Mystical. I was done playing nice. I was about ready to drop in exhaustion. “Get your ass down here where I can see you.” I let my command unleash.

  I heard him grunt, then a tawny-haired brute of a man appeared in the corner of my eye, where he had trekked halfway down the stairs, jerking from the command. He looked thirty-five in Com years, so he had been around for the last war. He knew better than to hide in a place this filled with Coms. I growled in irritation, but he still had the gun in his hand, so I didn’t make any sudden movements.

  My eyes flashed. “Set the gun down gently.”

  He did so, even if fighting my command, his eyes narrowed, his hate at being manipulated clear.

  “Tell the Com to turn the fuck around so I can disarm her.”

  “Do it, Mac,” he stated instantly. “She’s telling the truth. She’s not here to harm us.”

  Beautifully, the Com turned and placed her hands on the door. I moved swiftly, disarming her. Not only did she have a gun at the back of her waistband, but she also had one strapped to her leg. I grunted in approval, even if she wasn’t using silver bullets, thinking her only attack would come from Coms when everyone knew the Beasts were out there. “Are you going to behave, Mac?”

  Instantly, she nodded.

  “Aloud, Mac.” I smacked the back of her head. “Are you going to behave?”

  Instant. “Yes.”

  Only partial truth.

  I heard the owner sigh even as I quickly debated my option…then I hit her over the head with the butt end of her own gun. I caught her falling form one-armed, my gun instantly altering to the owner. “She was a loose end I don’t have time for.”

  His jaw was clenched. “She’s loyal, so please don’t kill her.”

  “I wasn’t planning on it.” Laying her on the floor, I listened to her heartbeat and felt her head. She had a bit of a goose egg already starting, but she was fine. I sighed, straightening, and rested back against the door, not holstering my weapon because there were other lingering Com scents in the house. “You have a son?” It was a simply asked question, no command in my tone.

  He rolled his shoulders, crossing his arms while assessing me. “You don’t look like Lily Ruckler.” His head cocked at my duffle. “And you’ve got a live lion in that bag.”

  My shoulders slumped. I was done playing this game. I took my fake glasses off and pulled the hoodie I was wearing down. I pointed at my brown hair. “It’s spelled.” I unzipped my bag and pulled Bonnie out from where she had been hiding the majority of the time in the cab. “This is Bonnie. My Vizoac.” Hooking her under one arm so I still had my shooting hand free, I explained at his wide gaze as he scented the air. “She’s also spelled to look different.”

  I jostled her. “Speak, Bonnie.” She growled, sounding very much like a lion even though it came out of a poodle’s mouth. I jostled her again. “Good girl.” I cracked my neck. “Now, do you have a son?”

  He blinked. “Twins. A son and a daughter.”

  “Perfect,” I grumbled. That meant possibly two brats to cart along on our trip. “Let’s see them.”

  He nodded, gesturing up the stairs, his eyes traveling over my face. “I’m so sorry for—”

  “Look, I’m exhausted.” I shook my head. “I don’t want to hear apologies. All I want to do is my job, and then get us all the fuck out of this Com-infested city.” I eyed him as we walked down a thin hallway. “What the hell are you thinking, living here with kids?”

  He had stiffened when I had said ‘get us all out’, and now he straightened even more. “I made it through the last war living in a damn sewer. I won’t live like that again.” King Cave isn’t a sewer, but it isn’t this place, and he sure as hell will be living there. “I have Coms that I trust bring food and supplies in and out.”

  “There’s stubborn,” I stated. “Then there’s stupid stubborn. Do you know which category I would place you in?”

  He chuckled, relaxing a little. “I can imagine.” He opened a door at the end of the hallway. “They’re both in here, taking naps.”

  Before enterin
g, I sniffed the air and listened. All I heard were two tiny heartbeats, steady breathing, and the ticking of a clock. But I scented… “The room’s spelled.” My gaze slammed to his.

  Cautiously, he nodded. “If you mean them no harm, you can pass.”

  My nostrils flared, and I nodded, smelling only truth on him. I carefully stepped through the doorway, not getting killed with the spell, which was probably how it was concocted. The lion Shifter followed me in, and I realized I hadn’t asked his name, so I did in a whisper.

  “Lynn Johnson.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr Johnson. I only wish it was during better times.”

  He nodded, and then gestured to the left where a tiny female slept on her stomach, her hair orange. “That’s Brenna.” A hand to the right where a not-so-tiny male — compared to the female — slept on his back, his hair a wild, curly black. “And that’s Brann.”

  “They’re twins?” I asked in disbelief, studying their size difference. When Lynn nodded, I grunted, staring at the boy. “He’s gonna be big.”

  Lynn smiled proudly. “He’s already a little rascal.”

  Wonderful. My future may include training a ‘rascal’. “Let’s see if he’s the Prodigy.”

  I set Bonnie on the floor with a swift order to be quiet and still, fishing for the die in my pocket. I didn’t miss how Lynn held his breath, watching me closely. I wasn’t sure if he wanted this for his son or not by his expression.

  Oh, well, because if it was Brann, it was destined.

  I fisted the die, and pulled it out, beginning to slowly open my fingers.

  My phone rang, blaring in my other pocket. “Sorry.” I fumbled for it as the kids twitched in their sleep. I grabbed it and quickly hit a button, putting it up to my ear and whispering, “Hello?”

  “Are you alright? You didn’t call and it has been over a half-hour,” Ezra rumbled.

  On speakerphone.

  “Shit,” I muttered, yanking the phone away from my ear.

  A pause, then Ezra boomed, “Sweetheart? What’s wrong?”

  I fumbled with the phone, Ezra’s voice encompassing the entire room as he ranted in a rising shout, “What’s happening? I knew I should have come with you. All those goddamn Elder fucks probably don’t know shit about the spell—”