The Fall Of The King (Lightness Saga Book 3)

by Stacey Marie Brown

  Lars, the Unseelie Demon King, made me nauseous with abhorrence because of what he allowed to happen to my people and what he’d done and still wanted to do.

  He unwisely thought trapping my sister into helping him gain information from me would lead him to the cauldron. Little did he know.

  “You think starving yourself is showing strength and courage?” Lars huffed, kicking at the tray of untouched food at the foot of my bed. “All you are doing is weakening yourself.”

  I twisted to look at him and snarled. “You did that the moment you put me in this room.” He was closer than I thought, and I automatically jerked back into the wall. I tried to cover up my reaction, but comprehension curved his mouth.

  “You thought I would let you use your magic on me?” Lars lifted an eyebrow.

  I turned back, finding a crack that trailed up to the ceiling. The prison surrounding me somehow blocked my magic. When he first put me down here without my mouth covered, I attempted to do a spell, but no magic found its way into the room. Impenetrable. It frightened me because no fae had ever been able to block us. Druid magic was different from fae magic. We could not only challenge them, but in some ways overpower them, which was why fae feared and killed Druids throughout the centuries.

  But I still needed the energy from the earth, needed life to enter my words for them to be effective. Here, all energy was blocked. And the only way he could do that was if he blocked himself in this room as well.

  My lips twitched at the edge, ready to push back and see if my theory was true. How I wanted to wipe the arrogance from his face. The King needed to be taken down a few notches, understand he couldn’t control everything. Especially a Druid such as me.

  I was not beneath him. I was an heir of Cathbad, one of the most powerful Druids ever known. I would not cower to a fae, King or not.

  My legs swept to the floor, and I bolted up. Lars took a step back, not expecting my sudden movement, his jaw tightening.

  “I didn’t think you’d let me…” I countered his step, coming within a breath of him. My neck cranked back to look up at him. “But I don’t really ask for permission. I do what I want.”

  A nerve strained along Lars’s jaw as he stared down at me, his eyes burning into me. “So. Do. I.”

  “Then go for it. Torture me…get the information you want,” I whispered. He was so close I could smell the mix of fae—sweet and woodsy—with only a breath of cologne, manly and warm, like a glass of a top-shelf whiskey. Just enough to make you want to step closer to get a better sniff. “What are you waiting for, King? Take what you want from my mind. Force me to speak.”

  Challenging the Unseelie King might not be wise, but the moment he let me out of this cell as I hoped, I would match his power with my own.

  Another nerve twitched at his temple before a slight smile curved his mouth. “Have this all figured out, don’t you?” He leaned in, his breath curling down my cheek. “Get me riled up so I will foolishly try that exact thing? I’ve been King since you were young. It will take more than a Druid who thinks way more of herself than she should to rattle me.”

  I looked at him through narrowed eyes, annoyed by the intensity of his nearness. Lars chuckled, low and dark, the noise vibrating against my skin.

  “Do not challenge me.” Lars tipped even closer, barely an inch from my mouth. My chest locked up, but I didn’t move. I would not show fear. “You will find, Druid, you are quite unprepared for the likes of me.”

  “Or maybe it’s the other way around.” I peered up, holding his gaze. “Is that why you won’t take me from this room? I’m not the only one who can’t do shite in here. Aren’t I right, King? Without your magic, you’re all talk. A balloon full of hot air.”

  “You sure you want to keep this up?” A ghost of conceit twinkled his eyes. “I was trying to cordially work with you, however, you are forcing my hand.”

  “Cordial? Keeping me prisoner and binding my sister is what you consider cordial?”

  “Very.” He slanted his head, his expression momentarily open, as if he were being the kindest, most gracious person. “But I see being nice is not something you respond to. You answer to a little rougher game. We all have a weakness, it’s just a matter of finding yours.”

  Sensing the first string of doubt leaking through me, my mouth pinned closed.

  There was no way he would find out.

  “That is what I thought.” He smirked and stood to his full height. “You have one more day to come to your senses before I stop playing this game with you. For the Queen’s sake, I was hoping we could come to a mutual solution. However, I see your sister is not your vulnerability.”

  “Was your brother yours?” I shot back at him. Lars’s lids narrowed. “You did what was best for the masses, not for your blood. Kennedy, above anyone, would understand. Keeping you from another piece of the treasure is something I will fight for.” I stepped closer to him, now only a hair apart, our bodies touching ever so slightly. “Until my last breath.”

  Lars’s intense eyes stared down into mine. “If that is the way it has to be.” He lifted one eyebrow. “I always get what I want in the end, Ms. Cathbad. Always.” Lars turned, exiting the door with a speed and quietness that screamed supremacy.

  The door clicked, continuing to secure me in my magic-empty prison.

  Chapter Three

  Lars

  The moment the prison door shut, Travil found his step behind me, causing me to growl under my breath. Strong women were nothing new to me and found little admiration in weakness, but this woman was making me crazier than most.

  And that was saying a lot.

  Ember’s stubbornness and power could be a challenge. Yet as frustrated as I could get with her outright disobedience sometimes, I was never riled this easily. It took a lot to really make me angry. As a demon, I learned to keep my temper under control at all times, else I might destroy cities. Whether it was because this woman had sent strighoul to my compound, almost killing Marguerite, or because she was keeping me from what I wanted most, I was slipping into anger faster than usual.

  At first the similarities in looks to her younger sister with her long silky brown hair, deep brown eyes, and petite physique had me treating her with a little more care than I normally would with a prisoner. But I no longer saw the kindness and quiet strength of the Queen. Fionna Cathbad had grown up quite differently. Hiding from fae for decades in Ireland had turned her tough and ruthless. She was not shy, sweet, nor did she have the luxury of being empathetic and kind. I would never admit it, but I was impressed she’d taught herself black magic and Druid spells.

  She was a force to be reckoned with. One strong enough to challenge fae.

  It was true I had done nothing to stop the killing of Druids. After Aisling died, I was dealing with my brother, his insanity, and his murdering thousands. Druids were of little consequence to me.

  Losing Aisling destroyed me, but Devlin kept me from completely going under by misplacing his sanity enough for both of us. I had to marshal the strength when he lost his. But when he entirely lost his mind, I had no choice but to end his reign. End him.

  The door to my office hit the wall as I strode in, my shoulders still tight around my ears. “Get…” What was my new secretary’s name? For the life of me I could not remember. “Whatever her name is… I want to hear from Garrett and Cadoc in the next hour. I need something on Ms. Cathbad. Now,” I yelled at Travil, my palms smacking my desk harder than I meant to.

  “Yes, sir.” He bowed his head, stepping out of my office and closing the door.

  I let out a breath, staring absently down at my desk. What was wrong with me? My temper was skimming the surface too easily, and I didn’t like it. I prided myself on control, fairness, and making the best decisions for the survival of the world. If I showed any sign of weakness or recklessness, the European Eastern bloc wouldn’t be the only countries wanting to exit my rule.

  “Majesty?” A slight, Latin American brunette ente
red the room, her five-inch heels still only bringing her up to my chest. She was a pretty little thing with caramel skin, straight brown shoulder-length hair, soft brown eyes. But something about her still irritated me. Actually, every secretary had…since Rez.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. Her name was still a sore subject with me. Theoretically I was happy for her, that she’d found her mate, but it had come at my cost. She was mine. I had brought her into my home, given her a job and a life. After all I did, she left me for a lesser fae.

  Still, I was no fool. The dark dweller, West, and Rez were perfect for each other. You’d have to be a fool not to see it, which made it impossible to be around them, reminding me of what I had lost so long ago.

  I had cared deeply for Rez but was never in love with her. Aisling had taken all my heart, leaving nothing but a carcass. I wasn’t capable of loving someone else. Not anymore. And Rez deserved better, which was the only reason I allowed them both to live. Any other Demon King would not have been so lenient, but my respect for Rez and the dark dweller softened my retaliation. Still, I had punished them. The law of my rule demanded it.

  Perhaps the worst part of it was no secretary could live up to Rez in skills. Rez and I worked extremely well together. The majority of the time she knew what I wanted even before I did. She was a hard worker, excellent lover, and took care of the business of the compound like she was made to do it. I missed her. Every day. No one had even remotely come close to filling her shoes, and my patience for these new ones had me firing them almost as soon as they were hired.

  My assistant had to do a lot more than just help run my house and businesses. I had also tried several men to fill the role. They had only lasted a few hours. I found women much more efficient, able to multitask and handle all I threw at them. This new one was competent, but I knew she wouldn’t be here much longer. She already was exasperating me by asking endless questions.

  “Get me Garrett on the phone now.” I sat back in my chair. “Also get me all the files you can on Olwyn O’Sullivan. I want to know everything you can find on her.”

  “Yes, sir.” She tried to curtsy, but her pencil skirt almost made her stumble over. Her cheeks flushed red, and she bowed her head, trying again.

  “Just. Go. Now,” I growled, clenching the arms on my chair. She wasted my time trying to perfect her curtsy with those ridiculous heels and skirt. She teetered out of the room, closing the door.

  “Marguerite?” My finger pressed the button to the kitchen.

  “Yes, Mr. Lars?” Marguerite’s accented voice came through the box, calming me. She had been with me since she was a little girl. Though I was far older than her by centuries, she had taken on a maternal role in this home, and her cooking could challenge the most famous chefs. Besides Ember, she was the only one I allowed to hug me. I loved that woman. If anything happened to Marguerite, I wasn’t sure I would be able to stay sane.

  “Can you get me a list of new potential assistants?” Marguerite had to approve them as much as I did.

  “Si, Mr. Lars.” I could almost hear the smile in her response. She had yet to okay any of the replacements either. “Made devil food cake. Will bring.”

  I smirked. What began as a joke, to bake me devil’s food cake whenever I was irritated or upset, had now become our tradition. She had made me a lot of cake lately.

  “Thanks, Marguerite.” I couldn’t help but smile. My mouth watered already at the thought of her cake.

  “Nic! Mi hermoso chico, para de comer. For Mr. Lars!” I heard Marguerite yell through the speakers before it went silent. I chuckled softy, my head shaking.

  I had discovered Nic, like Rez, in a sex den. It was a flea-infested slum and the drug of choice was magic-infused crack. They had him so strung out between the ceaseless sex, a natural high for an incubus, and actual drugs, he was close to brain damaged. Magic healers and speech therapists helped with his recovery, but the ghosts of his past haunted him a great deal. He had lost his eye in the war. As an incubus, he was afraid this would hurt his “hunting.” It did not, as the women and men seemed to only be more intrigued and lust-filled with the pirate-looking Spanish god.

  Now the stone’s statement flooded into my head, stirring me in my seat. Everyone thinks you only crave power, but I know the truth. You want a family. Love. I had never thought about why I filled this house with broken people who needed a home. Each one came here from a horrendous situation. Was I trying to fill a gap? Create a family? A house full of noise and love?

  I shoved the thought away. I was a demon. A king. I had more things to worry about than love or feeling lonely. They were weak qualities that caused lesser beings to seek approval and acceptance.

  The two things I could never permit.

  ~~

  “Majesty, I have Garrett on speaker, and here is everything I could find on Olwyn O’Sullivan.” My assistant stood before me, handing me a walkie-talkie device and a file. Her hair was now twisted up in a knotted bun. I really should learn her name, but my concentration was on the file in front of me. It was thicker than I thought it would be. I glanced up at her. She appeared somewhere in her late twenties and was a raccoon shifter, which were known to be good thieves. Maybe I should get her stealing instead of being my assistant. “I also had Garrett send me all the files they found so you could go through their research.” She smiled, a breath of pride curling off it.

  One eyebrow curved up in surprise. Maybe I would keep her around a bit longer.

  “Thank you, uhh…”

  “Sofia.” She tried to curtsy again and failed miserably.

  My lips pinched together holding back my sigh. I dipped my head, letting her know she was free to go. The moment she exited the room, I swiveled in my chair to the device sitting on my desk.

  “Go ahead, Garrett.”

  “Sir.” He spoke in his thick Irish accent through the newest version of a cell phone, one not even on the market yet. “This Druid was exceptional at covering her tracks and staying hidden. No credit card, no phone records, no internet trace of her. I thought we’d never find anything on her. Even the people in town said she and the old lady were hermits. Barely ever seen. They had nothing useful.”

  “Get to it,” I growled, my impatience for all things related to Fionna Cathbad was already fraying my nerves. I never failed in getting what I wanted. Never. But if I didn’t find her weakness, the thing which would make her buckle, I didn’t know what I would do. This anxiety was a new experience, and I didn’t like it. Torture would be pointless; she would not succumb. She would rather die for her cause. She also knew perfectly well I couldn’t touch her sister, not really. I bound Kennedy to find the cauldron, and by doing that, I hoped Fionna would step up. She did not.

  “Well, sir, until we found a document in a file at the county hospital on Olwyn giving birth to a girl. It was misfiled in a completely different department. But with my skills I was able to uncover it.”

  I flicked the folder open, flipping through the pages until I landed on a stapled set stamped by the University Hospital Galway.

  “The second and third page caught my attention. At the fourth one, I knew I found what you wanted.” Garrett cleared his throat. I sat back in my seat, turning to the second page, my eyes scrolling over the page quickly.

  “If you look at the next document,” Garrett suggested. I turned the next one, my eyes widening the moment I understood what I was looking at.

  “You see, sir, Olwyn’s daughter died at the age of twelve. About sixty years prior.” He paused, his energy bursting through the walkie-talkie at his own discovery. “But this says she had a baby about five years ago, giving it up for adoption. I think we all know that would be physically impossible. Five years ago she was still way over a hundred.”

  Satisfaction twisted up my mouth, elation filling my chest.

  “Good work, Garrett.” Approval coated my words. “I am extremely impressed with what you attained.”

  We found it. The information I need
ed.

  “You know what I am going to ask you next.” I bolted from my seat, energy buzzing up my calves. Walking to the French doors, I overlooked my property. Spring was on the horizon, but you wouldn’t know it from the angry Pacific Northwest rain spitting down in an endless stream, saturating the fields and plumping the creek running near the house.

  “Already done, sir. We didn’t want to contact you till we followed the trail and retrieved what you wanted. Cadoc is doing it now.”

  “Excellent.” I had been unsure of Garrett and his group when I first took them from the lowlife demon, Vadik. However, those who survived the war had turned into faithful soldiers, Garrett especially. His intelligence and hacking skills would be legend one day. “Head home the moment you do.”

  “Ta, sir.” The device clicked, going quiet.

  I returned to my desk, going through the rest of the documents Sofia had added to her research. What I learned was horrific and shocking, stirring anger deep inside.

  I had tried to find something on Fionna originally to bend her to my will. Now I realized my actions were for the best.

  “You are mine, Fionna Cathbad.” I smirked, my hand rubbing my mouth. “I have you.”

  Chapter Four

  Fionna

  I could feel his presence even before the door opened, which considering the absence of magic in this room, was a statement of his power. Lars was his own energy field, pulling you to him like gravity.