Lord Belshazzar tugged me back against his side and placed his arm over my shoulder, kissing the top of my head with a caring brush of his lips. “If we weren’t about to go to war, I would have handled it much differently, but since we are, I take action with an iron fist. It’s the only way it can be.”
I pushed. “Are you sure you can handle them? They’re already going to be frantic with the war.”
“I can manage them easily.”
I blinked. “Don’t get overconfident.”
Lord Belshazzar snorted, full of that confidence. “I could wipe out the entire druid faction if I wished. But I don’t. I want our peoples together. They never should have been fractured in the beginning by the fucknut and his backhanded actions when he killed his friend. He’s only hurt us by his selfish actions. Druids and vampires are meant to be side-by-side.”
I rubbed my lips together and eyed him carefully. “You could end them all? You can’t be that powerful.”
His grin was lopsided and cocky as hell. “Trust me, your majesty, you don’t know everything about me.” His wink was adorable—not even sure how that was possible. “Even if you think you’ve seen everything.”
That…was frightening.
And more in line with what I thought of the man.
Lord Cato’s question was quiet and serious. “What if you’re wrong, Lord Belshazzar? What if you can’t control them?”
My lover’s sigh was heavy. “If they truly will not accept a vampire’s rule, then I’ll bring out the big guns…as much as it pains me to do so.”
“And that would be?”
“Someone I know. He will make them bow, and they won’t dare defy him. He’ll make them see reason.”
Lord Pippin’s head snapped back in surprise and complete bafflement. “You know someone more frightening than you?”
Lord Belshazzar’s lips twitched. “Not more frightening than me, just a little different. Enough so that they’ll listen to him without question.”
Lord Otto lifted a finger into the air. “Perhaps you should contact whoever this individual is to have them on standby. I’m worried as well that the druids will rebel when we need them the most. We can’t win this war without them, and vice versa.”
My lover tipped his head and placed his cheek on top of my head, resting there. “I plan to bring him back from S’Kir—along with whatever or whomever this Breaker is.”
“Wait. You’re planning to go?” I asked, unable to move my head and look up with the weight of his thick skull on top of mine. “When did you decide this?”
“Yes, I’d like to know that too,” Lord Xenon drawled. “We never discussed who would be going.”
With finality in his deep baritone, Lord Belshazzar stated, “As soon as we have both amulets, the queen and I will be going to S’Kir together to retrieve what’s needed. It is happening. All of you should prepare for it.”
Ah…shit.
“YOUR MAJESTY, I’VE BEEN LOOKING ALL OVER for you,” King Niallan growled, stopping me in my tracks as I was making my way back to my room. His gaze roamed up and down my frame in a quick assessment. “Where have you been?”
“I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk,” I lied easily. I crossed my arms over my chest and yawned, wanting a few more hours of sleep—in my own bed. What I did not want was to be harassed after a secret meeting, not by the man we were plotting to kill. “What do you need, my king?”
The handsome druid king ran his fingers through his tousled hair, also wearing his pajamas. He turned his body so that my bodyguard, Crow, was behind him to give us a semblance of privacy. He whispered under his breath, “I’ve been trying to call you all night, but it’s just going to voicemail.”
“I’m so sorry. I turned my phone off last night and left it in my room.” I took a step closer to him and placed my right hand on his left shoulder. I asked again, “Did you need something?”
He snorted and rubbed at his red-rimmed eyes. “I need a decent night’s rest is what I need. I was hoping we could have shared a bed last night.”
Ah. Yes.
I needed to be his friend in his time of need.
Perhaps if I cut out his tongue, he would quit worrying about his deceased, felonious lovers, and worry more about his physical pain.
Hmm.
Doubtful. He had loved them, after all.
Mentally, I sighed. Cutting out his tongue sounded like so much more fun. But…
Friend, it was.
I squeezed his shoulder and nodded my head down the hallway, keeping my voice gentle. “We can rest together in my room if you want. I’d like a few hours of sleep before the day starts. Do you want to try that?”
His shoulder sagged in relief under my hand. “I’d actually love that.” His green eyes caught mine. “I’m in no mood to deal with Lord Belshazzar today, so let’s keep this between us.”
I snorted and linked my arm with his, then started walking down the hallway with him at my side. “I would actually agree. He was in a foul mood last night when I saw him after he dealt with Ms. Francis. I doubt he’ll be in any better spirits today.” Oh, the beautiful lies just rolled off my tongue like a sweet, sweet assassination.
“Actually, I did find that odd. His reaction in the meeting, knowing he’d have to fuck her wasn’t normal compared to his usual behavior.” Striking, tired green eyes flicked to mine as he yawned behind a fist. “Didn’t you find it strange?”
“Actually, yes, I did. He appeared a little faint.” I released his arm and dug out my key from the tiny pocket in my pajama shorts, and unlocked my door. “Come on in.”
My asshole king stepped inside my bedchamber, glancing around the sparsely decorated living area. He shook his head and chuckled at all of the white…well, white everything. “I see you’ve been busy making the room your own.”
“Shut up. I haven’t had time to decorate it yet.” I glanced at my guards now standing on either side of my door. “Phoenix, Crow, no one disturbs us.”
Both nodded, staring straight forward.
I slipped inside my room and shut my door, locking it behind me. I tossed my key on the small white table next to the door, and asked, “Would you like a drink before we head to bed?”
King Niallan rubbed at his eyes again. “Yes, a shot of vodka, please.”
I strolled to my mini-bar across the room.
But I stopped dead in my tracks halfway there when a wall of fire surrounded me. I whipped around in place, and hissed, “What the hell are you doing? You know I hate this fire shit.”
“Actually, I remember you liked it. You really should stop lying to me,” King Niallan stated, a smirk gracing his features. He slowly straightened to his full height, no longer slumped over in exhaustion, and his grin only grew. His green eyes had turned to gold, and cruel excitement stained his gaze. “I must say, your majesty, these soundproof rooms are quite nice, don’t you think?”
My features were quickly blanking.
This was not him playing around.
I swallowed and wisely kept away from the circle of fire inching closer to me. I asked carefully, “What are you doing, my king?”
“I’ll be kind and tell you.” He sat down on a chair with a regal air and waved a hand to the side. The fire burned even hotter, my skin quickly perspiring. “I am the king now.”
I stared. “Yes, you are.”
“And…” He hummed with a smile flirting on his pretty lips. “What is the one thing a king to the vampires does not need?”
Ticking. Silence.
We had been wrong. So very, very wrong.
King Niallan laughed. “Come now. I can see it on your face. You know the answer. Say it.” He flicked his hand into the air again.
The fire burned even hotter.
I let the drops of sweat fall down the sides of my face, not bothering to wipe them off—barely even noticing them now as my mind churned for solutions to this dilemma.
“Answer it,” he growled quietly.
Another toss of his hand. The fire roared.
“A queen,” I hissed.
It wasn’t Lord Cato he would assassinate.
It was me.
My death gleamed in King Niallan’s eyes. “This will be so very lovely, taking away the one person who has broken the ice to Lord Belshazzar’s black heart.”
I held perfectly still, fear tearing at my thoughts.
My king raised his hand again.
Sweat dripped off my face.
I stared at that hand. My life depended on it.
With punishing grace, he flicked his wrist.
The deadly fire raced at me.
I screamed.
EVERYTHING HURT.
It wasn’t the same pain from when my leg had been ripped to shreds. This was a deeper pain. A soreness that went all the way to my bones.
Without preamble, I rolled to the side and vomited.
A lot.
My throat was on fire. I wiped my mouth and tried to open my eyes. As soon as I did, they were on fire, and I could see nothing but shapes through a white haze.
“One’s up,” someone said.
A moment later, there was the sound of someone else retching and a small whimper. Several more of the bodies around me moved and retched in the next minutes.
Blinking as much as I could to clear the crust and dirt from my eyes, I felt my vision clearing. I narrowed my eyes and tried to look around.
The walls were cold stone gray. Thick, angry bars of dull gray metal formed a three-sided cage around us. The stink of old, dead blood permeated everything. There was no light except that from torches burning on the walls.
That at least explained the burning sensation in my throat and eyes. Torches.
I sat up carefully and checked to see where my vomit had landed.
On Carolee’s shoe.
Gross.
Nothing else was much better, though. There were druids and vomit all over the floor.
Roran was on the other side and Vitas near the third wall of bars. The other soldiers were trying to assess their situation, and eventually, everyone moved to the edges of the cage, away from the stench in the center.
I desperately wanted to run to Roran, but I could see his direction in his eyes: Don’t move.
We couldn’t let them know who meant what to whom. I had to stay near Carolee, Vitas and several of the others.
“They’re all up!” one of the guards outside our cage called.
There was a clank, a bang and then water fell from the ceiling in a torrent, rinsing all of our vomit down to the center where there was a drain. It took a few minutes for the floor to be clean, but it was gone, and so was the stink.
We were all drenched in the process.
I had to stay alert, pay attention. Like a desperately intricate sword fight, I needed the details of the fight.
First, they must have knocked us out in the forest. Probably with blowguns and darts and fast-acting drugs.
Next, they moved us here.
Wherever here was.
Then they knew when we woke up, everyone down to the person would vomit. That meant they knew this drug very well. And knew what it would do to people. Druids.
I wondered how it would work on vampires.
And last, this was not their first go-round, because they had a drain in the floor and a water system in the ceiling for rinsing out the puke.
Carolee jerked away from the bars in the next instant and rubbed her arm.
“What?” I asked quietly.
“It’s…galena. It’s coated in galena.”
All of the druids in the cell heard her quiet words while a shiver of fear ran up my back.
If the bars were coated in galena, they really knew what they were doing. This was a holding cell to beat all holding cells. It was designed to keep a magic wielder from their magic.
Galena never responded to magic. Ever.
Every druid child knew that.
No one went near galena. The scientists at the university called it an ore, a chemical mélange they could boil down and extract a dull, malleable metal named lead from. It was useless and dangerous.
Vitas’s head swiveled around to the door next to him. There was a handle, but nowhere to put a key.
The guard laughed and tapped the wall next to him. “Don’t bother. The lock is over here.”
Vitas and I shoved our magic at the keyhole and—
Nothing happened.
The entire locking system was laced with galena—lead. Nothing would obey us.
This was a vampire jail.
The vampires couldn’t affect it, either.
They hadn’t seen druids in as long as we hadn’t seen vampires. So whatever they used on us would work on them.
I cursed that I didn’t have a notebook to write all this down. Dorian and the rest of the temple masters needed all this information.
Just as I was going to move toward Roran, the guards in the room snapped to attention.
A tall, lithe, tanned vampire with exotic looks, waist-length black hair, and bottomless black eyes walked into the holding area and looked around. His shoulders were wide, and his entire being sparked with power.
He’d just had blood.
My stomach twisted.
Dressed in black from head to toe, his coat had just a few epaulets on the breast pocket. A sword rested on one hip, with a scabbard that curved just enough to be noticed, and a bright metal object rested in a holder on the other hip, both just peeking out as he walked into the room.
“My Lord Knight,” the one guard said, with a stiff bow.
“The king wishes to see them,” he snapped.
“Which ones, my lord?”
“All of them.”
“Allow me to get more handcuffs, then, sir.”
The lord knight nodded sharply, and two of them ran out of the room. Walking slowly, he traced the outer perimeter of our cage, studying us.
“Have they said anything, captain?”
“The two females over there were mumbling to each other, but I didn’t catch what was being said.”
The dark man walked toward Carolee and me. I heard Roran and Vitas growl, and Carolee shot both of them a look, cutting them off.
Cocking his head, he looked us over from top to bottom. “I’ve never seen a druid before. I didn’t expect that you would look so… common.” He tossed a look around at the other in the cell with us. “Judging by the clothes you wear, you are not soldiers like the others. Some kind of civilian leaders, perhaps?”
His hand snapped out and grabbed Carolee’s wrist. Vitas was next to us in the next moment, snatching her back from him.
“Ah, a pair! Interesting. You don’t need to fear me, druid. I’ve fed and have no interest in your woman’s blood.” He grinned, a mouth of pearly white teeth. “Yet, anyway.”
Carolee punched Vitas’s shoulder. He’d given away that they were paired off.
“I wonder if you can even understand me. We’ve separated for millennia. You may not even share our language.”
Still, no one spoke.
“Sire, we heard them in the forest,” one of the guards said. “They were plotting to blow up the armory at the Crossing.”
He chuckled. “Indeed. I suspect they understand us perfectly.”
We held our silence as the two guards ran back in. “My lord, the handcuffs.”
He looked at the fourteen of us shoved into the cell. “Each of you will come forward and put hands out through the slot near the door. Once you are all secure, you will be taken to see the king.”
The man’s eyes burned red. “Do not attempt to use your magic for any reason. We have been told to execute you if you try anything.”
Just a few minutes later, we had all been shackled with galena metals, and the door opened. Filing out, we made two straight lines, and everyone seemed to understand Carolee and Vitas, and then Roran and I were to stand together.
“March,” the lord knight commanded.
We were led through the winding halls of a cold, cavernous building. It felt as though there were spirits trapped in the walls, screaming for help. The torches fell away after two levels and were replaced by small shining globes that held no magic but put out a tremendous amount of light.
One of the guards behind us chuckled. “They’ve never seen light bulbs before!”
Another guard chuckled. “I heard they don’t have electricity, either. Just some basic generators that don’t work well.”
“Quiet!” the lord knight snapped. “No gossiping! No rumors! Do your jobs!”
“Yes, my lord,” both guards answered.
We continued the walk, up more stairs, down more halls, through more doors.
They were leading us around so we couldn’t figure out the layout of the building.
Smart, really.
Moving through the rooms, I wasn’t able to shake the feeling that someone was watching us. Not just the guards, but something…else.
I glanced to the left and saw a statue in a cage.
It blinked.
Jerking, I stumbled into Roran.
“What?” He was on alert, ready to attack.
“The man in that cage…”
Roran turned and looked at it. Slowly, the statue’s mouth dropped open, revealing fangs. The smell of death wafted across the hall.
Then, I smelled blood.
Roran looked down as we walked. Our feet were leaving bloody footprints on the stone. The man in the cage groaned and reached for us.
“Get back!” the lord knight snapped, slapping the hand back inside.
“Sadistic, controlling bastard,” Roran grumbled. He helped me regain my feet, and we continued.
“They don’t trust anyone,” I said in a hushed voice.
“Probably not even themselves.”
Massive wooden doors appeared at the end of the newest hallway. Intricately carved, they swung open as we neared them. They revealed a massive, gray room, with bright red and gold curtains at the far end.
We were marched directly in front of the curtains where a man sat with a dark crown on his head.
The same man who had ripped out Argo’s throat.
He stared at us, bored. “Bow.”
Not one of us moved.
Death of Gods (Vampire Crown Book 3) Page 12