The Golden Key Legacy

by AJ Nuest

  Making a mental note to thank his old caregiver in some way, Rhys slipped the key into the lock, twisted the knob and led Faedrah into the dark kitchen.

  The stench of rot drilled into his head like a jackhammer. His eyes watered and saliva coated the inside of his mouth as he tapped the keypad to disengage the alarm. He swallowed repeatedly and blinked to find Faedrah’s hand clamped over her mouth, her thumb and forefinger pinching her nostrils. Sweet Jesus, what had Grady served up for dinner? Road kill? The entire place reeked of death.

  Filling his lungs with a breath of fresh air, he slowly pushed the hasp into the latch and snuck past the island to the opposite side of the kitchen. Faedrah stayed on his heels, silent as his shadow on a summer day. Their eyes locked and her jaw firmed as he placed his hand on the swinging door to the front hall. His pulse pumped loud and fast in his ears, hands prickling like they’d been zapped by an exposed wire. His lungs burned and he silently exhaled, pushing back the hinges to peek through the small crack and check the front hall.

  Empty. Though muffled footsteps wore the floorboards overhead.

  He jerked his head toward Leo’s study and Faedrah slipped through. Her chest rose and fell in labored breaths as she pressed her back to the wall, her focus riveted to the stairwell. He guided the kitchen door back to center and sheltered her in his arm, directing her toward the first room on their left. A twist of the knob, and they entered.

  Sweat broke and itched along his skin from the stifling temperature. His stomach heaved as the putrid odor thickened in the air. God dammit! Was it asking too much to open a fucking window? The entire place was like diving headfirst into a crematorium.

  A dying fire sputtered in the hearth, the orange coals providing just enough light to make out the back of Leo’s leather winged-back chair, the two couches on either side of the mantel and the low coffee table in the center.

  Rhys pointed at the door, aimed two fingers at his eyes and swiveled them to Faedrah. She nodded and kept the handle ajar to monitor the hall.

  He crossed to the shadow of his father’s desk and skirted the side, a tap of his cell and he used the light from the screen to scan the front. The little brass keyhole centered in the middle drawer winked at him and, if luck for once was on his side, the map would be waiting in the false bottom underneath. He set the phone on the seat of the chair, rolled it back a few feet and knelt, tugging a set of lock picks from his pocket.

  Left, right and right again, he shook out his numb hand and twisted the tool until the tumblers released with a slight click. He expelled a breath and silently slid the drawer open. A glance at Faedrah to make sure no one had gotten wise to their break-in, and he emptied the contents onto the blotter.

  Curling his hands around the sides of the drawer, he depressed the front corners with both thumbs. The bottom sprang open and he mentally prayed to Faedrah’s nine virgins as he inched his hand inside.

  A folded corner of paper bumped his fingertips. Bingo!

  He withdrew the map, the yellowed paper crackling with age as he spread it open across the desk. Faedrah snapped her head around and the relief on her face sent his heart into overdrive. He retrieved his phone and snapped a picture…and then snapped one more just to be safe.

  Ten seconds later, the map was securely back where he’d found it, the items returned to the drawer and the chair rolled in place. He grinned at his angel as he rounded the desk and neared the door. Now to just retrace their steps and they were golden.

  The rolling tumble of a spine-chilling chuckle broke the silence, and Rhys froze with his hand on the door. “You think that will save you?”

  Shit!

  He spun to face the room and searched one murky corner after the next. Where the hell was he?

  See me…

  The whisper attached to his brain like a leech, and he stumbled back, forcing Faedrah into the hallway behind him. A dark fog bled from the shadows, creeping along the floor to merge before the fireplace. The mass swirled, taking shape.

  Faedrah gasped and seized his arm. Rhys’ jaw unhinged as the man he’d once called his dad stepped from the void, his skeletal smile filled with triumph…and the promise of pain.

  “You’re early.” He waved his hand and the black cloud faded into the floor. “Not that it causes me undue distress. I’m quite anxious to be rid of this decomposing carcass.”

  A thick bank of decay drifted across the room, and Rhys jammed the back of his hand under his nose. Fuck, that smell came from Leo? He retreated another step, his body twitching, chest cramping like it was being hacked with a dull axe.

  No, not Leo. The whites of his eyes had hemorrhaged; filled with blood. This rank piece of shit was Gaelleod.

  The floor dipped under his boots and Rhys seized the jamb. Everything Faedrah had said was true. It was as obvious as the evil that danced in the fucker’s empty black eyes. How could he have been so stupid? His hand to God, no matter what bizarre explanations came out of her mouth, he would never doubt her again.

  “My one regret is how the princess provided you the finer points surrounding our history. Pity that. I’ve always found the shock in their eyes as the last of their lives fade away most gratifying.” A disappointed sigh left his cracked lips, and Gaelleod shook his head. “Yet, I suppose, such is the sacrifice I must bear to gain possession of the key.” The edge of his black silk smoking jacket trailed along the floor as he crossed to the desk. He picked up the phone and hesitated, locking his dead eyes on the space over Rhys’ shoulder. “You know the location of the mirror, yes? The two of us have several realms to conquer before you’ve outlived your usefulness.” He jabbed a button and put the receiver to his ear. “Come. It’s time.”

  Faedrah whimpered behind him and a dangerous heat built across Rhys’ shoulders, his hands burning like he held them over a roaring fire. Rage blow torched his gut, and he welcomed it, let the hatred and disgust consume him. If he and Faedrah stood once at getting out of here alive, he would gladly let whatever poison he’d inherited rip him apart.

  “You son of a bitch!” He stomped forward and stared the rat bastard straight in his soulless empty eyes. “You will never touch her, do you hear me? Never!”

  Gaelleod tossed his head back, a prolonged laugh working the Adam’s apple in his scrawny throat. “Oh, Rhys.” He chuckled, dropping the phone to the desk. “I do so enjoy your anger. It will serve me well in the years to come.”

  Someone cleared their throat and Rhys pivoted toward the door. Relief dropped his shoulders a solid inch at the sight of Grady, standing beside Faedrah in the hall. “Thank God. Grady, get Faedrah out of here and go call the police. Right now.”

  The butler frowned. “Rhys, what are you doing here?” He entered the room; glanced between Rhys and the entity he’d once believed was his father. Sadness washed over Grady’s face, his brown eyes softening with a misery Rhys had never once witnessed in all their years together. “I’m sorry, son. You shouldn’t have come.”

  He scowled. Good God, was it possible Grady already suspected what Leo had become? Did he understand the danger they were in?

  “Ah, yes, the loyal Grady.” Gaelleod smiled. “More father to my son than any other he’s been privileged to know.” His smile transformed into a sneer. “Your services are no longer required.” He flicked a finger and Grady crumpled to the ground at Rhys’ feet.

  “No!” Faedrah raced forward and fell to her knees, running her hands over Grady’s face and shoulders, his neck and arms. “No, no, this cannot be.” Fisting the lapels of his suit, she turned toward Rhys. As tears filled her eyes, she shook her head.

  Grief tightened around Rhys’ neck like a fist. The fucker had just killed his only childhood friend. The one man who’d offered him family when no one else would.

  Gritting his teeth, he leveled a glare at Gaelleod from under his brows. Sparks sizzled along his fingers. A growl built to match the blinding fury detonating in his chest. He snarled, raised both fists and shot them forward, releasi
ng a roar of outrage and the pain of the past twenty-eight years.

  Glass exploded as the windows shattered. Faedrah dove atop Grady and covered her head with both arms. The curtains billowed and twisted, the ends shredding under the force of Rhys’ rage.

  Gaelleod lifted a palm toward the ceiling and Rhys hesitated as the shards hung suspended in the air, twinkling like bloated raindrops on a spring day. He refocused on the demon and a sinking horror slithered through his stomach.

  Jesus Christ. They were fucked.

  Gaelleod chuckled, the source of his humor no doubt the shock on Rhys’ face. “Excellent, my son. Your powers exceed even my expectations.” He dropped his hand and the broken glass hit the ground, scattering in an out-of-tune song.

  A door banged open down the hall at the same second exhaustion slammed into Rhys’ body.

  He staggered sideways, the entire room tilting to the right. “I’m-m-mnot your s-s-son!” The words refused to form right. He blinked and tried to focus as several sets of heavy footsteps pounded toward the room.

  Shit, where was Nate? The floor pitched to the left and pain sliced through his legs as he thumped to his knees. If his friend had been hurt or worse, Tasha would never forgive him.

  “Rhys!” Faedrah scooted in front of him, lifted his face in her hands. Sweet Jesus, she was beautiful. He loved her more than any man had a right to.

  He tipped forward into her arms. Fuck, what was wrong with him? He couldn’t even raise his arms to hold her.

  A deep moan formed in his chest and leaked up his throat. Christ, he would never forgive himself if anything happened to her. He should have trusted his girl from the very beginning. Coming here had been a huge mistake.

  Five large men filed into the room. “Hold it.” The first aimed the barrel of his gun at Rhys. “Don’t move, asshole.”

  Ha! Jokes on you, buddy.

  A second thug grabbed Faedrah by the arm and Rhys’ ass dropped to his heels as the dickwad hauled her to her feet. He growled in frustration as she struggled and fought against the fucker, his meaty paws pinning her arms behind her back. For Christ’s sake, he was liable to yank her arms right out of the sockets!

  A stomp of her heel and a grunt of satisfaction bounced his chin as the asshat’s face contorted in pain. The dude let loose an ear-splitting howl, wrenching forward as she elbowed him in the gut.

  ʼAtta girl! She would show them what it meant to go down swinging.

  “Do not touch me!” A fast spin and the goon’s head snapped to the right as the side of her boot connected with his jaw. Hit ʼim again! Another suit closed in, and she jabbed his larynx with her knuckles. He stuttered backward, clawing at his throat.

  She pivoted and raced for the wall. Three steps up and she back flipped, hair flying, landed on a third dude’s shoulders and swung her entire weight in a circle, throttling his neck in the crook of her knee. He crashed to the ground with a grunt and Rhys grinned. If his body wasn’t so god damned numb, he would’ve jumped to his feet and applauded.

  “Yield!”

  Alarm paled her cheeks and her arms dropped like lead weights to her sides.

  Gaelleod nodded and two more of his goons came forward, and Faedrah flinched as the first wrenched her head back to whisper something unintelligible in her ear.

  Rhys ground his back teeth. That asshole would be the first to die…right after he’d strangled the last breath from Gaelleod’s maggot-infested throat.

  “Thank you, gentlemen. Your timing is perfect.” The carcass of his father circled the desk. Sweat beaded and trickled down Rhys’ back as he tried and failed to lever to his feet. If he could just muster a few seconds of strength, he’d beat that leering smile with his fists until nothing was left but a bloody stump.

  “Breaking you will be such an enjoyable challenge.” His boney finger skimmed down the front of Faedrah’s throat, lower to the top edge of her sweater. He plucked the key from between her breasts and she shuddered. “Only a few short hours and everything you are will be mine.”

  She wound up a pitch and Gaelleod’s eyelids fluttered as her wad of spit splattered his face. “Never!”

  A weak laugh hitched Rhys’ chest. Maybe Gaelleod was right. That look of total surprise was kinda funny.

  “Secure them in the basement.” The wizard turned and started for the door, Faedrah’s spittle dripping off his chin. “Keep them guarded until you hear from me. Now that we have them, I’ve much to prepare.”

  To be continued…

  A Wizard Rises

  Chapter 1

  Far off in the distance, an eerie wail wound to a high-pitched shriek.

  Faedrah jerked her focus to the narrow windows set about the dank, lower level of Gaelleod’s chambers. The metered pulse of several red lights flickered upon the panes, and she sprang forward, wincing against the wrist-biting sting of her restraints. Such forbidding harbingers could only mean one thing. This realm’s armed guard had been alerted all was not well at the McEleod estate.

  “I thought I told you to stop squirmin’.” Gaelleod’s thick-necked minion left his post before the door and clomped toward where he’d thrust her upon her ass in the corner. His hunched shoulders spanned the width of an ox. His meaty paws clutched his deadly weapon; the strap cutting into the folded collar of his black surcoat as he advanced.

  Faedrah braced and awaited the wrath of his retribution. ʼTwould be a small price to pay in exchange for his nearness. If she struck with her bound feet at precisely the right moment, mayhap she could trip him up, send him careening to the floor and turn the tide of this imprisonment by delivering a sharp kick to his jaw.

  “Uh, oh…” Rhys smirked, shackled and strung up by heavy chains before a dark curtain shrouding the opposite wall, his teasing banter at complete odds with the unadulterated hatred in his eyes. “Sounds like the neighbors called the cops. You sure you want them busting in here to find you beating a defenseless woman?”

  Faedrah widened her eyes, her jaw set to curtail an exasperated huff. What in all the sane reasoning was the bullheaded man doing? In his weakened state, any punishment he received could harm him thrice fold what she could endure.

  Exactly as she’d feared, Gaelleod’s henchman altered his course, bore down upon Rhys and a loud crack tensed her muscles as he delivered a backhanded blow to her lover’s cheek. “Shut your fucking hole before I do it for you.”

  Rhys slowly turned his head to face the man, a droplet of blood beading on his bottom lip, and though his wrists remained bound overhead, his arms stretched to the limit of their extent, the man stumbled back from the weight of her beloved’s lethal gaze. “Hit me again, asshole. I dare you.”

  Muffled shouts proceeded a repeated thumping from above. A guttural chuckle worked the drawn muscles of Rhys’ chest. Wicked satisfaction curled his lips into a sneer, and shivers born of awe and fascination scuttled the length of Faedrah’s spine to the floor. Though he’d been nearly dismantled by drawing upon his magic in Gaelleod’s study, abilities such as his could not be perpetually subdued.

  Even as they remained imprisoned, Rhys’ power gathered in strength, awaiting his summons to return.

  “Sounds to me like you need to make a decision. Let’s count down how this is going to play out, shall we?” He squinted as if conjuring the events about to unfold. “The cops discover the broken glass in Leo’s study… Grady’s dead body… and next thing you know they’re conducting a floor by floor search of the premises.”

  The man paled. Shaking his head, he retreated another tentative step. A moment later, the index finger of his right hand curled around the weapon’s discharge apparatus and his jaw firmed. “I should pop one off in your gut right now.”

  Rhys laughed. “Go ahead. I’m sure Leo wouldn’t give two shits if you killed me. Hell, he’d probably only skin you alive.” A loud bang shook the floorboards, and he glanced toward the ceiling. “Oops. That can’t be good.” Tipping his head, he frowned. “Speaking of which, where is Leo, anyway? Fu
nny how that guy always seems to disappear right before the shit hits the fan.”

  Faedrah’s focus slid back to the armed guard, and she lowered her chin to conceal a smile. Sweat glistened along his protruding brow; his eyes darted around the chamber in panic. For all his bluster, he displayed the conviction of a mouse. Rhys nearly had the dim-witted buffoon scurrying for the safety of a darkened corner.

  Footsteps thundered amid the chaos of raucous calls and slamming doors. The ruffian pulled a shiny, black mechanism from his breast pocket, slightly larger and thicker than a cellular device, and lifted it to his lips. “What the hell’s going on up there? Respond. Over.”

  A crackling much like sausages frying in a pan echoed into the tense silence, but nary a voice heeded his call.

  “What’s it like, listening to the inevitable?” Sympathy softened the corners of Rhys’ eyes and he tsked. “It’s gotta suck, standing here while your future is shrinking to the size of a prison cell. I hope to God Leo’s paying you enough.”

  A frustrated growl built in the man’s chest, and he spun for the door. “Fuck this shit.” He seized the handle and shouldered through, quietly pulling the latch closed behind him.

  Faedrah’s chest fell with a breath of relief. She met the tortured gaze of her beloved, all hints of anger replaced by the steadfast light of his undying devotion.

  “Are you hurt?” He ran his focus down the length of her body and back up again. “So help me God, if that fucker harmed one hair on your—”

  “Calm yourself, my heart. I am not a fragile flower.” She thrust her back against the wall, employing the leverage of her thighs to push to her feet. “Indeed, if I correctly recall, at last count, ʼtwas I who had inflicted the most damage between us.”