“What? What are you seeing?”
“St-Stavros,” she stuttered, blinking. “They found us.”
~~
How did he keep finding us? I could only sense his magic if my uncle was close. I was pretty sure it was the same for him. I had no time to contemplate the how; I was more furious with myself for letting it happen. Something a king should never do—let his guard down.
“How soon?” I sat back, reaching for our clothes.
“Well, well, well…” Stavros’s voice echoed from the entrance. Light from a torch ignited the shadowy cave. Instinctively I stood, still naked, and stepped in front of Fionna, my back tensing defensively. My uncle and Margo stalked into the cave. He set a filled sack down near his feet, but my attention was pulled to Margo. Her gaze voraciously devoured me as she nipped her bottom lip, desire sparking off her in electrical flurries. I only smirked at her. She could look, but she would never have.
Stavros grinned haughtily, his gaze dancing back and forth between Fionna and me. “You really do take after me. Your father was way too uptight and highbrow to fuck someone of lower standing, but what else are they good for, right? And when the demon needs to feed, you feed it. Right, son?”
“I am nothing like you.” I put my arm out, already anticipating Fionna’s response to want to attack Stavros.
However, the Druid only laughed, pulled on her jeans, and slipped her sweater back on. She stepped up alongside me. “Bigoted relics like you are only good when they’re dead and take the past with them.”
“Oh, pet.” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head as if she were the one who had no clue. “You don’t see I am the past and the future. The people will be grateful to have me ruling them. People haven’t progressed or changed, no matter what you’d like to believe.” He turned his attention to me. “And deny all you want, Lars. You’ve always been more similar to me. Driven and focused on what was genuinely important, which is power. It’s the only mistress truly worth having.”
I ground my teeth, hurriedly getting back into my jeans. Yes, power had been my first mistress, even when I had Aisling. But I had always felt empty and hollow just below the surface, if I’d only let myself realize it.
I longed for family. Though Ember was now part of my life, she was long past needing me and had her own life to lead. Besides, she was usually off on some other continent, and I barely got to see her. I had people in my household, but I always kept them at arm’s length. I hadn’t even allowed myself to be close with the woman sharing my bed. I had considered it weak to need or want someone.
“Looks like your true mistress wants to come home. Where it belongs.” Stavros stretched out his fingers, indicating my king powers, then looked over at Fionna, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe both of them would. I wouldn’t mind getting a taste of a Druid. Especially that one.”
Rage ceased every thought, ripping the demon from his gratified slumber. He didn’t hesitate, snapping my daggered teeth. I stepped for my uncle.
“Lars! No.” Fionna grabbed my arm. It took a couple tugs before I looked at her, snarling. “He’s trying to goad you. He wants you to use your powers. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”
Her deep brown eyes were filled with concern and strength, and I anchored myself to them. The demon simmered down, withdrawing. She was right; if I used my powers he would only siphon them off me, growing stronger. I had to stay in control.
Stavros’s laughter filled the cave. “Wow, I see who has you by the balls. A Druid and a demon together? Never thought I’d see that happen. But you can never choose who you love, right?”
“We don’t—” Both Fionna and I started.
“Please.” Margo scowled. “You both are drenched in it. Believe me, I’ve seen it before. Pathetic. What a waste. We could have had some fun.” She shook her head sadly, as though I were the one missing out.
“Sounds as though someone’s been scorned before.” Fionna tipped her head. “What? You wanted him, but he fell in love with another? Hmmmm, that’s shocking.”
“Shut up, witch.”
“I guess we didn’t learn our lesson the last time. Want me to show you again, puppet?” Fionna wiggled her fingers.
Margo snarled, lunging forward. Stavros reached out and grabbed her arm.
“Last time you didn’t have to play with the big boys.” Stavros grinned. “I think it’s only fair I give you a go.” He winked. “Let’s see how long your boyfriend can stand back and watch you fight his battles for him.”
A rumble erupted from my chest, but Fionna’s hand squeezed mine. If I fought Stavros, he would drain me. But I also couldn’t let her fight in my place.
“Yes. You. Will.” Her voice came into my ear, strong and indisputable, as though she had heard what I was thinking.
“Fionna,” I grumbled, turning to look at her.
“What?” Her eyebrow curved up. “You don’t think I can handle him? I’m not strong enough? Because I’m a girl or a Druid?
Warning. Warning, my brain chanted. This was a no-win situation for me. “I completely believe you can take him on.” I licked my lip. “I just don’t like being the cheerleader on the sidelines.”
“Well, get those pom-poms ready, sweet cheeks.” She slapped my ass. “I want to hear your best cheer. Oh, and if you want to change into a tiny little skirt, I’m not opposed to the idea.” She hit my butt again and stepped past me, leaving me with my mouth slightly open. “Bring it on, Team Asshole; Team Druid is going to kick your arse.”
Stavros’s head fell back with laughter. He wiped at his eyes. “I’m really starting to like this girl.” He spoke to me, shaking his finger toward Fionna.
“Let’s see if you feel the same when you’re flat on your back, fighting for consciousness again, uncle.” I folded my arms, setting my legs out wide. I had no choice but to watch this play out. The moment I felt she was over her head, I was in.
“But only you, Stavros. Fair fight.” I nodded at Margo.
“But of course.” Stavros placed his hand on his chest, his eyes wide as though I’d offended him. “I always play fair.”
I scoffed at the blatant lie. Demons didn’t tend to like fairness.
I would also do what I needed to keep Fionna safe.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Fionna
It was doubtful Stavros knew the meaning of fairness, nor did I think for one moment he wouldn’t play dirty. Bring it. I liked it dirty.
“Even though I think this will be easy, I always make sure I have a little extra luck on my side.” Stavros winked at Margo, whose lips parted in a wicked curl. She squatted, untying the bundle Stavros had laid at his feet.
“Having the luck of the Irish never hurt.” Stavros’s eyes flashed, his grin widening. I felt Lars stiffen next to me at the same time a muffled grunt emerged from the bag. My stomach sank into the mud. “And a little incentive on my side.”
Margo tipped over the bag and emptied its contents onto the cave floor as if it were trash.
“No!” The word popped from my mouth before I could even think, and I stepped forward. Lars clutched my arm, holding me in place. Fury and fear fluttered like moths in my chest.
Tied and gagged, Kevin lay on the ground, blood dripping from his temple and mouth. His face was beet red with anger, and he hissed garbled words at Margo and Stavros.
“Want this?” Margo snickered. She tugged Gerry from her back pocket and dangled it over the bound leprechaun.
Bitch.
“Leave it to the Druids to put a sub-fae in charge of one of the most powerful objects on earth.” Stavros put his hands on his hips, shaking his head. “It wasn’t hard to get him to tell us where you were headed.”
I scoffed. “One you weren’t even clever enough to figure out on your own. You forced him to lead you here.” My hands formed fists. “You don’t need him anymore. Let him go.” For so long, I thought I hated all fae, but it wasn’t all fae; I hated the self-appointed superiority of the supposed high fae
.
As Kevin wiggled on the ground, still fighting back, trying to reach his friend and not showing the cowardice I had seen in so many high fae, I felt proud. He and I were more equal than not. We might be inferior to them, but you should always watch out for the underdogs. We had more to fight for.
“Keeping him tied up is for his own good.” Stavros circled his finger by his head. “He’s crazy. He thinks a sock is real,” he whispered. “But I guess if I was locked in a cave by myself for what seemed like centuries… Oh wait. I was. By my own brother.”
“And Kevin is far saner than you.” Lars kept his defensive stance, ready to react.
“Oh, nephew. Are you actually growing fond of your little pets?” He glanced between the leprechaun and me. “Calling them by name and treating them as though they mean something? Sweet, but it only shows how far you have already fallen.” Stavros stepped up to Kevin and kicked him. Kevin thrashed and tried to get to his feet.
I chewed my bottom lip, trying to not react. It was what Stavros wanted.
“They have a place. A duty to serve us.” Stavros leaned over and ran his fingers through the blood on Kevin’s face. “His job is over.”
Without Stavros even touching him, Kevin started to gasp for air, clawing at his neck.
“Stop!” I yelled.
Stavros flicked up an eyebrow and winked at me. Margo’s laughter pealed out through the cave as the leprechaun fought for life.
Color drained from my peripheral vision. Magic flew out of my mouth like bullets, blasting off the walls and bounding back. Lars’s form went flying back, and not one part of me felt bad. He needed to stay out of this. I had to protect him too. Another step, and Margo’s frame crashed back into the wall of the cave, where she knocked her head sharply against the stone. Her body fell limp to the ground.
“Just you and me.” I took a step toward the old King.
“Sounds utterly sinful.” Stavros licked his lips, rolling his shoulders back as though he loved the thrill of the fight. He released Kevin’s body, and it crashed to the ground. He lay there, motionless, but I spotted a slight flutter in his chest. He was still alive.
“Give me the cauldron, Fionna. I’ll let you live. I could always use someone with your spirit.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
The shadows disguised the now broken treasure. One of the most powerful antique objects in the world and of course we broke it. Leave it to me.
“Then my only other choice is to kill you. Slowly. In front of my people to show what happens when you don’t fall in line. And especially to any other Druid thinking they can challenge me. Like your sister. The Queen will be fun to tame.”
A snarl rose from my throat.
“Let’s say with an audience of thousands, hmmm? Killing you two will be my greatest performance. Your deaths will strengthen my seat on the throne. People need to know how powerful their real King is.”
He wanted to use us to instill fear within the masses, so they would not up rise. Lars and I would be a powerful statement: a king strong enough to kill both an Unseelie King and a high Druid.
“If you touch her…” Lars moved, his anger blistering down his spine in bright reds and blacks.
“You have nothing. Nothing to threaten me with.” He whipped around to Lars. “I am so much more powerful and smarter than you ever dreamed. Do you know how long I have been planning this?” He stepped closer to his nephew. “You think I just twiddled my thumbs in the hole where I was trapped for decades? I’ve been infiltrating you, your mind, your business…your own people.”
Lars’s lips fluttered, and he panted.
“You made it so easy to get into your compound. The day I heard you were on the hunt for a new secretary... well, it didn’t take a genius to find a way in. Straight through your front door.”
Lars’s jaw fell open, and his eyes went black.
“They were all spies for me. Every one. The little raccoon shifter was my favorite. Glad you kept her.”
Now it made sense how Stavros seemed to be always on our heels. Whenever Lars called to set something up for our trip, Sofia the secretary would disclose the same to Stavros.
“You got rid of them all before they could find out where you were hiding the other treasures. Except dear Sofia.” Stavros peered down at his watch. “The raccoon is a particularly good thief.”
I could feel Lars’s rage as it seared through his body. I had only a split second to assess the two men. Lars was going to attack, and in doing so, he would give his uncle the very thing he wanted. I would not let that happen.
Black magic flowed from my lips, directly at Stavros. Slashes appeared across his chest, and he sailed back into the dirt. He hit the earth but popped back up in a blink, his shoulders shaking. It took me a moment to realize he was laughing.
“Is that all you’ve got, Druid? This time I am ready for you.” His chartreuse eyes met mine, humor dropping away. “You think you can kill me?”
As powerful as Druids were, we couldn’t kill fae royalty without one of the Treasures of Tuatha Dé Danann. This is why we designed weapons to be able to do it. For us non-royals, whether fae, Druid, or human, the only way to kill a royal was with two specific weapons: the sword could kill a queen and the spear could kill a king. I had neither.
“I may not be able to end you, but that doesn’t mean I can’t take you out of the game and then have him kill you.” I jerked my head toward Lars.
A garbled noise came from the ground, pulling our focus. Kevin was awake, trying to get through his ropes.
A malicious smile grew on Stavros’s face, dropping my stomach to my feet. His intention was clear.
Time put my muscles in slow motion, while it sped everything else up. “Noooooo!” I reached out, but Stavros drew out a knife, slicing the leprechaun’s throat before I could even take a step. Blood gushed onto the floor. Kevin’s eyes widened, looking up into mine. He blinked, then slumped to the ground, his life cascading onto the dirt.
“Sub-fae are only good as servants, slaves, or dead.” Stavros tossed Kevin’s body to the side with a snort.
Color drained from my sight, grief and rage scooping out of my soul, turning off every emotion except anger. My vision narrowed on Stavros.
I was my magic, which was black and angry. Power encased me, billowing through every nerve and muscle. My curse sped toward him like a freight train.
Kill.
Death.
Destroy.
With a crack, my energy clashed against him, burning his flesh with a sizzling pop. He roared in agony and slid backward. He snarled as he tried to step forward, the spell loosening around him, becoming whiffs of smoke. Before I realized what was happening, his magic blasted into my head, chucking me backward. Pressure slammed against my brain, squeezing it. Shite. He could break through my magic. Only Lars had been able to do that.
Stavros now had Lars’s kingly magic.
Anger heaved through my lungs as I shoved him out, easing the crushing torture in my skull.
Bones poked out from the tears in his torso where my spell had struck him. The stench of burnt flesh reeked, and I thought I would gag. His eyes turned black. He growled, shooting magic at me again. Magic wrapped around my throat, pushing down, blurring the spell in my head.
“Fionna!” At Lars’s voice, my eyes popped open, and I rammed my magic at Stavros. Claw marks cut across his face and stomach, slinging him like a doll to the entrance of the cave. In my periphery Margo rose to her feet, and I sent my magic at her. She tugged the sword out of its holster and sprang at Stavros, under my thrall. Stavros rolled, getting out of her way.
I could feel thick goo sliding from my nose and eyes, fatigue burrowing into the back of my head. Death fluttered around the edges, waiting to see if this was the time it finally got to claim me.
Stavros stood again, though with less enthusiasm. Pressure once again wrapped around my head and throat. My knees crashed to the ground, breaking my hold on Margo.
> With my heart pounding in my ears and dots blurring my vision, I grappled for air. Last time I attacked him, I had caught him off guard. This time he was ready and fighting back with everything he had.
Death hovered, curling around my shoulders. Black liquid spurted from my mouth as I fought against Stavros’s hold
A roar I felt more than heard crashed against the walls of the cave and inside my soul. I fell onto my side, as Lars leaped for his uncle.
No, Lars. Don’t.
The thought wafted past, but I could do nothing to stop him. Lars tore Margo’s blade from her hand as she came after him, no longer under my thrall. His back flexed, all the muscles working as he drove the blade toward her. She slipped to the side to get away from his deadly blow, but the blade pierced her arm. Margo’s screams filled the cave. Lars dug the sword so deep into the stone wall, pinning her in place. Her blood poured onto the ground.
Stavros ignored them, taking another step toward me with a gleeful grin on his face. A blood vessel popped in my eye, my lids drifting closed, air no longer moving through my lungs. Blackness ate up all time and space, my body giving in to it.
Then, as if someone kicked me in the chest with steel-toed boots, pain raged up my spine; the pressure lifted, flooding my lungs with oxygen. I gasped, taking huge gulps of air as painful coughs stung my esophagus.
My vision cleared to see Stavros standing over Lars, his body twitching and limp.
Nooooooooooo.
I stumbled up to my feet, swaying.
He was dying. I could feel the edges of his soul slipping away from me similar to threads pulling away from a sweater.
Fuck. No.
Black magic sang from my mouth and struck Stavros in the back of head. He lurched to the side, and I gave him no time to recover. I spotted the handle of the knife I had stolen from Travil in Lars’s boot. I vaulted for it, grabbing it. Fury overtook me, everything gray. I didn’t even think. The tip of the blade tunneled into Stavros’s eyeball as if it were butter. Blood sprayed over my face as he teetered to the side screaming in pain. His mouth gaped in disbelief as though he couldn’t believe I had bested him with something simple as a knife.
The Fall Of The King (Lightness Saga Book 3) Page 27