Fall of Kings: Immortal Brotherhood (Edge Book 5)

by Jamie Magee

  “Not so soon, I was speaking of brilliant observation.”

  Rush sneered. “I sense no brilliance, only whoring bullshit.”

  Crass didn’t respond to him. “These souls are pointless. Without the names at the top of the list there will be more.”

  “I am accountable for who is on the list, nothing more.”

  “You dare,” Crass said coldly. He stopped short as both Rush and Cash stepped forward, an ominous threat.

  Tisk smiled slowly, and then licked her lips as if a feast were set before her.

  Here it comes, Reveca thought.

  “This barter is under new negotiations.”

  Reveca lifted her chin. “I bring you more souls than you expected, and this is the response I receive? Crass, are you breaking your vowed contract with me?”

  He leaned back. “No. I’m making use of new information. You’ve held out on me, my dear Queen of the Edge.”

  “Have I?”

  He leered. “I will vanish this list for the cost of one soul.”

  Reveca felt her stomach roil. She’d be damned if she gave him King. She’d rather crawl up and perch on his throne for all of time.

  “Whom?” she asked with a remarkably steady voice. Her expression stated she had nothing to lose.

  “Talon.”

  A roar was heard, but not from Reveca, from Rush—the sound jarred Crass enough so he tensed and waited for a reaction from Rush’s direction but one never came. Reveca’s hand was on his arm, gently swaying as if to calm her own personal beast.

  A half grin came to Reveca even though she was breaking apart on the inside, raging with anger and grief. The world itself might as well have ended just then. All the fates were determined to excommunicate Talon from her life.

  “You have to excuse Rush, wolves are protective of their own,” Reveca stated dismissively, watching for a response. She lifted a brow when she saw Crass worry his bottom lip. “Oh, did your kitten not tell you Talon was a wolf? In fact, at the moment I would say he is very close to letting his beast all the way out—complete possession.” She glanced at Tisk. “I’m sure she told you she fucked him, giving me no choice but to cut the asshole off, which starved him.”

  Crass’s gaze shifted up to Tisk. Ever so slightly she cowered, but increased the sway of her hand on his shoulder.

  Crass met Reveca’s removed gaze once more. “I understand he is valuable to one of my cohorts.”

  Like a true negotiator Reveca gave no expression even though she was shocked. This Ambrosia Lady would never have told another Lord her weakness. They all hated each other. Talon had kept his secret locked down; at the very least he wasn’t clear on the details with those he held the closest to him. And he surely didn’t tell Tisk. Which meant Zale had to say such things to Tisk. Either that or it was a hellva lucky guess.

  How the fuck would Zale know this?

  “He’s surely isn’t valuable to me. I must admit I am surprised you would surrender your barter for him, especially considering how attached some of these names are to powerful beings.”

  He was interested, exactly how Reveca wanted him to be.

  “You’ve found Zale?” Crass asked bleakly, clearly wanting to hold any reaction in.

  His wording was interesting. When Zale perished, Crass should have known even if he wasn’t delivered to him by any claim. He wouldn’t be lost to Crass.

  Yet, this response told Reveca two things. One, he didn’t know Zale was murdered by none other than Cashton. Secondly, any connection to Zale was more valuable to him than having a prize another Lord or rather, Lady, would desire to have.

  Reveca, looking bored as ever, spoke. “It wouldn’t matter if I had, would it? For you have just offered to alter our barter. I give you one used wolf, and I am free from this barter—and you are still held to its terms, your silence is bought. Fair enough.”

  “No final arguments have been made,” Crass said through gritted teeth. “Whom should I be interested in that is not on my list but attached to someone?”

  A careless shrug. “Nothing big, just an immortal who feels he’s an angel. Rumor has it he is controlled by Latour. However, I cannot verify the information for the source is just as vile as your new pet. Perhaps she would know.”

  Crass grinned. “Chalice.”

  “You know of him?” Reveca asked.

  His gaze shifted up to Tisk then back to Reveca. “He is with Latour?”

  “Correct.”

  “You can deliver him shortly?”

  “Will it absolve my list?”

  “No.”

  “My answer is the same.”

  Crass leaned forward. “Slighted as you may be, you are skilled at barter and you would not turn one of yours over to me willingly.”

  Reveca glanced at Tisk. “Debatable.”

  Crass sneered. “Latour and his angel before the full moon or you deliver Talon.”

  “Your terms make no sense. You want me to deliver Latour to you, a huge name on your list, in a given time frame, and receive nothing? But if I do not then you will take Talon and I am absolved from this barter.”

  “My silence to those who are interested in Talon as a prize. They will not know you are his keeper.”

  Reveca grinned and shook her head. “You take me for a fool. Anyone seeking a prize would already know every barrier in their way. Clearly I am one if he is under my protection. There is no silence for you to offer.”

  He nodded as if to honor his opponent. “What would you like in exchange for bringing Latour and his ‘angel’ to me before the full moon?”

  Reveca sneered. “Her.”

  Crass laughed, he actually roared with laughter as both Cashton and Rush looked at Reveca like a fool. Tisk coiled away, and rightly so. Being in Reveca’s custody would be far worse than hell for the likes of Tisk.

  “Done,” Crass said. “The barter stands as such. You bring Latour and Chalice to me and receive Tisk as payment, and continue your task with your list. Or, you fail and I take Talon, list absolved.”

  “Done.”

  Reveca spoke the sacred words that freed the souls she had brought to Crass’s control.

  Just as they were leaving Crass spoke again. “One more thing.”

  Reveca turned.

  Crass bowed his head toward Cashton. “Who is he to you?”

  “Of no matter.”

  “I have heard he is of value. So much value him being out of his cage could be ominous for souls such as me.”

  Reveca offered a cold wavering glance at Tisk, then moved her gaze to Crass. “You really do need to consider the source of your information.”

  “I do. And when their stories match to prophecies I take notice. You’d have me to believe this quiet shadow of yours is a pet?”

  “You can believe what you want, what you need to understand is he is under my protection and our barters are closed for this visit.”

  “Perhaps.”

  As if on cue Crass’s men crowded Reveca, Rush, and Cashton, daring them to move.

  “Dear Reveca, I wouldn’t barter over this. I would be forced to take action. For the survival of my kingdom.” He stood, feeling less wary about Rush now that so many of his men were in place as a barrier. “I happen to know if my theory is correct he could not be a pet of yours. There would be no connection of vim, for it would break sacred laws of the absent Creator.”

  “You’re theory is false. Your whore has told you tall tales. Do you not think she is schooled on the same prophecies you and I are?”

  No matter how strong her argument was, she knew Crass was on point.

  Because of Cashton’s destiny, because he has already crossed paths with his soul mate, his vim would not reach out to Reveca. It would reject her. Conversely, Reveca was sure now King was back in her life, now that she had given herself to him, hers would be full of rejection as well.

  “I’m sure she is. And I am sure you will not have an objection to easing my mind.”

  Reveca a
lmost smiled. “You may enjoy orgies of lust in the open. I however keep my affairs private.”

  “Of course.” Crass stepped forward, keeping a barrier between him and Rush. “Kiss him, and if my fears are settled, we will part ways for this night.”

  “Kiss him,” Reveca repeated.

  Crass leered.

  It was hard to look unbothered as she turned to face Cashton as she looked up into his eyes, the blue flames surrounded in darkness.

  It was difficult to stand before the moment she knew would bring his demise, possibly hers as well, and be unable to do a thing about it.

  Rush made an argument, one that caused a stir with Crass’s men, but Reveca didn’t hear it. She was focused on Cashton, rushing through every way the pair of them could go out in a blaze of glory. When she watched his lips move, the words barely reached her ears and she doubted they would have at all if she was not straining to hear them.

  If she heard every word, and she doubted she did, it was a simple spell, one that stated: you are mine.

  Her doubt faded the instant she no longer saw Cashton before her, but King. She drew back, even looked to Crass and the others to see if they were prepared to seize him but they acted as if they had seen nothing.

  When Reveca met his gaze again she realized it wasn’t King, the pull wasn’t there, not as sharply at least, yet it was his image.

  She had to give Cash credit. This spell was a valiant try, but would fail. The second neither one of their own personal energy reached out for the other Crass would know Cashton would one day be a God and when he was, evil would fall. He’d have no choice to but slay him while he could and then reap the rewards from none other than Revelin himself.

  In the image of King, Cashton prowled confidently forward, looking seductive as ever.

  His hand reached to cup her face. “My queen. I will always serve at your side. Your power humbles me.” His thumb caressed her cheek as if they were alone and had nothing but time. “I wish to stay at your side for all of time.”

  And then carefully his lips met Reveca’s. She tensed and did her best to look as if she hadn’t.

  Then something happened. Then she felt King. Not the real King, but his essence. His humming energy, the energy she knew like her own soul, the power he gave her, that she’d fight for—it swarmed from Cashton and wrapped Reveca in tight seductive cocoon, right as he deepened kiss, and moaned with satisfaction.

  Cashton was giving her the energy King had given him, what he had done to restore him as much as possible.

  Reveca had nothing to cause Cashton’s energy to respond to hers, this ruse was only half complete. And knowing Crass, any element of doubt would give him reason to strike under the circumstances.

  Then a trace of brilliance came to Reveca. Cashton’s girl, Raven, was born of the Dominarum coven. There was a shared power in the coven, greater than blood at times. Reveca focused on the collective energy of the coven, a signature Raven would have in her essence each and every time she was with Cashton.

  Ignition. Fire erupted between them. Cashton’s kiss became greedy, his hands moved across Reveca like a starved lover, and Reveca’s did much the same.

  When she felt his hands dip down her waist she grinned and then slowly broken away from his ravenous kiss.

  She reached for his face, her thumb tracing his wet, bottom lip. “Save that for when we return.”

  The image of King grinned at her, licked his lips. “Aye, love, that I shall.”

  Reveca coolly looked to her side. Tisk was scowling from the throne. Crass was grinning, satisfied and relieved.

  He’d been fooled.

  Reveca spoke a curse in a cold, dead language and as she did Tisk reached for her throat.

  Crass’s grin vanished.

  Reveca lifted a brow. “The spell halts lies. You’re welcome. That should save you some time.”

  Crass laughed. “So be it. Full moon.”

  Reveca turned sharply, Cashton and Rush at her heels.

  She hadn’t completely spoken a lie. The spell halted lies but also truths which brought harm to the blameless. Reveca could only hope the powers that be saw her Club as blameless and would not allow Tisk to cause any more damage before Reveca was able to obtain her.

  As she boarded the ship, she felt Rush’s curious stare on her. She was sure he was lost. The kiss Cashton and Reveca had was not innocent; it was a touch only well practiced lovers give the other. He’d never buy it was a spell.

  No one would.

  Cashton reaching for her hand, squeezing it didn’t offer her much comfort and only fueled Rush’s curious gaze.

  “I’d tell you we’d be forgiven but the truth is there was no fault that would cause forgiveness to be asked,” Cashton said at length.

  Reveca leaned into the rail of the boat and looked down at the dark water. Despair was prickling her very being. “Even if you are correct, you only have what occurred in there to answer for. I have far more.”

  “You survived. You protected me. The Rapture,” Cashton said, looming at her side, ignoring the two wolves aboard who were now seeing Cashton through new eyes—as a priceless treasure that had to be protected at all cost, for Reveca would have never broken her loyalty to anyone for anything less.

  “I protected a Rapture that has brought me anything but.” She glanced to her side. “I would have never thought of the spell you used. The language has been dead for three thousand years.”

  He looked away. “It did prove to be a wise move…you felt like her.”

  Reveca nodded once. “Same.”

  “Then there you are, be at ease. King saved you from this doom and Raven saved me. All is well.”

  As Reveca leaned on the rail, she had to question how since she left King’s side this night she’d, in some way, raped her ex, and if that was not vile enough, before a Lord of Death, she kissed the very man who was destined to kill him.

  Life could not be this fucked.

  When Dagen and his soldiers appeared, and Dagen looked at Cashton and then her, as if he could read the infraction that was committed plain as day on their faces, Reveca felt a true sense of futility.

  Dagen was expressionless. Which didn’t help Reveca’s mindset. In her experience, if someone was pissed at you it meant, at the very least, they still cared.

  She was sure Dagen saw her as a lost cause.

  Before she could rage out, prepare to defend herself against his cold stares, or words behind words, the sky turned to fire.

  “Well,” Dagen said at length, “at least we know she’s predictable.

  A swirl of heat surrounded the vessel, and then like a hurricane the wind drug the boat across the water, miles from their path. Within all the twists and turns the boat was taking in the heated wind, Reveca wasn’t certain, but she thought they passed through a hidden portal.

  Not good.

  Not only did the wench have her, she had no fucking clue where she was, and was now dependent on Dagen as her one and only escape.

  During the worst of the wind, Dagen had shielded his body around Reveca. Four others around him. It was something she didn’t realize until the boat stilled, until she found herself burrowed into his chest, her nails clutching into him. He smelled like him. Like King. The clean strong scent with a hint of musk. Power.

  “As promised. You are protected.”

  Reveca looked up at him, too twisted with confusion to take in where she was.

  “It must be treacherous to have the charge of protecting someone you cannot stand.”

  “Understand, you mean. Because, no I do not understand you. Nor Adair or Gwinn, but I’m clever enough to know my king is adapting and so shall I.”

  Reveca was rendered speechless.

  Dagen’s hand rested on her arms. All at once she felt a push of vim, energy that was familiar to her. When King gave her this energy it was always rich with seduction, with the power of them.

  It was different with Dagen. It was still power, but that was all
it was.

  The weakness her emotions and experience had left her with had abated.

  “Let’s meet the other woman, shall we,” Dagen stated ruefully as he pulled her up with him.

  ***

  Gwinn was living in a special kind of heaven. A place where it was only her and Shade. There was no Club; there was no craft, no dead men rose.

  And she was not breakable, at least, not anymore.

  They had slipped into a peaceful Zen. Short lived of course, because Gwinn woke with the sensation of Shade’s hands slowly moving over her. “I’m not so sure I’m buying the ‘not breakable’ theory. Or the ‘bold’ one. I think you need to prove it to me once more,” he said with an alluring grin.

  And Gwinn did, three times over. The pain was no more, the soreness was only felt when she focused on the matter. She was sure she had her immortal body to thank for her quick recovery.

  They’d taken a long bath, rearranged the bedding. He’d finished the beers in the fridge and she was sipping on the glass of wine as she stared out at the swamp.

  An hour before, somehow their lovemaking had landed them on the deck, under the night sky and the moon, which was nearly full.

  Afterward Shade had pulled the mattress outside. He knew by the look in her eye his witch would rather soak in the night, the nature about them than be sheltered.

  Now he was wearing his jeans that remained unbuttoned, and his head was lying in her lap.

  Gwinn had only his shirt on.

  Her fingertips were tracing the elaborate wings tattooed on Shade’s back, somewhat searching for the barely noticeable mortal wound that stole his life—the wound that led them here.

  Her other hand was delicately holding her wine glass, and her stare was riveted on the dark water mirroring every star above.

  She was fascinated with Shade’s story, the mystery behind it all. He could have come from anywhere. He could have been anyone, a hero of all times.

  When she said as much he grinned and burrowed his head into her lap, causing her to shiver when his lips brushed across her skin.

  “A lost warrior, nothing more,” he said in a thick, tired voice. She glanced down to see the smile dangling on his lips.