A strange cry belted from my lips, twisting the weapon in deeper, spewing the only spell I could muster. His frame flew up into the air, his neck twisting as my magic snapped it with a chilling crack. Then his body crashed down to the earth.
I gasped, energy crumpling me to the ground like I was a doll. Clots of tar-colored blood seeped from my nose and hacked up from my lungs, dropping into the dirt. I grappled for breath, to stop my lids from shutting and to keep awake.
Lars.
I turned my head to see his limp body motionless on the ground.
“Lars?” I croaked, crawling over to him, passing Stavros. To everyone else Stavros would appear dead. But I knew better. I could take him out temporarily, but not kill him. Lars had to do that. Stavros was not my worry right now as I made my way to his kin.
“Lars.” I clawed myself to his side, reaching for his face. His complexion was ashen and covered with blood. A big streak of silver ran through his dark hair. “Lars?” I pressed my palms against his chest. A slight fluttering told me he clung to life. “You do not get to die on me either. Not now. Not ever.” I closed my eyes and felt the weak pulse of my own magic barely beating there. I didn’t care. I would find a sliver of something for him. Not even a question.
Every joint and muscle throbbed with exhaustion. Ice picks of pain stabbed behind my eye, at my temples, and in my ears, as I forced a chant to fester on my tongue. I gurgled and stumbled over the words, trying to spit them from my lips, pushing whatever energy I could into him.
It didn’t take much before the edges of my vision started to darken and blur. I had taken so much today, the backlash from earth’s power on my body was splitting me into pieces. A whimper rose from my chant as I pushed on.
I would not lose him. He was mine. He saved me from death, and I would do the same for him, even if I dragged him back from the beyond kicking and screaming. He could hate me, but at least we would be together.
If he died, nothing would stop Stavros, but if Lars lived, we had a little hope. Now Stavros would strip Lars of all his imperial power. He could die now. He could be killed the same as all other fae. I would not, could not, let it happen.
I grunted through the piercing aches ricocheting along my nerves, dumping more magic into Lars.
“Fionna. Stop.” I heard a breathy whisper. I opened my eyes. Only a slice of green showed beneath his lashes, but it was enough to produce a sob of relief.
“Oh my gods…” I reached up cupping his face, falling into him, my limbs shaking violently. “Damn you for scaring me. Don’t ever do that again.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He tried to smile, but it appeared more a flinch of pain. We were both so far from our best, but we had to move. The new King and his mistress would not stay down for long.
“We have to go.” I tried to assist him, his strength hanging on by a thread. “Help me!” I shoved my shoulder under his arm, trying to get him to his feet while struggling to stay up on my own. The desperation in my tone sounded shrill. He tried a couple of times to get to his feet, without much luck. It assaulted my soul with heartache to see him so feeble. The great King. His vulnerability scared me more than anything. He would eventually heal and get better because he was still fae, but his royal magic was gone.
Stavros was the true King. Lars was nowhere near being able to challenge anyone right now. We had to run while we had the chance.
Once on his feet, I leaned Lars against the wall, his eyes never leaving Stavros. Emotions I couldn’t decipher moved across his face. Margo had passed out from her own blood loss, still fastened to the wall. The whole cave was a bloodbath.
Sweeping up the cauldron, I shoved it in my small bag. Even though it was nothing more than a beautiful decoration, I still would not leave it for Stavros to find. It came from my bloodline. If it belonged to anyone, it was me.
My gaze wandered to Kevin’s dead body. His mouth and eyes hung open. We couldn’t carry him out of here. Or try to bring him back to life. I was void of even a trace of magic. It would take me awhile to replenish all I took.
“Fionna, what are you doing?” Lars hobbled for the exit, his gaze snapping to me as I scampered back for the leprechaun.
“If he’s going to stay here,” I snatched fabric from the dirt, “he’s not going to be alone.” I stepped to Kevin’s body, squatting over him. “You will be missed, my friend.” I clutched his fingers and slipped Gerry onto his hand. “Both you and Gerry.” I bit into my lip, trying not to cry. Bending over him, I kissed his forehead. “Goodbye, Kevin.” He would at least be with his friend in death. “Goodbye, Gerry.”
I bolted to my feet and reached for Lars’s arm. “I’m fine.”
He nodded. “Let’s just get out of here.”
I gave Kevin one last look before we plunged back outside. The dreary day spit down on us as we made our way back through the gulch.
~~
Magic thumped at the back of my neck as we made our way up the slippery steps. A sinking sensation in my gut moved into my chest, as if the two were connected by a rope.
“What?”
“You don’t feel that?” My eyes and body were unable to settle on one place.
“No,” Lars growled, ire wrinkling his nose. “Is this what it’s like to be common?”
“You’re alive.” I rolled by eyes. “Deal with it.”
His huff was half laugh and half fury. This had to be a huge change. Lars had never been ordinary. The moment he was born he was meant for greatness.
I took a few more steps, breathing in deeply, the sounds of rain pattering the leaves and ground. No birds or any other noise.
Something was off. Wrong.
A high-pitched howl tore through the air, the same way a lone wolf sounds, sending chills down my body. My wide eyes met Lars’s. We both knew. It was no wolf.
“I really wish it was.” He seemed to understand my thoughts.
Run! He seemed to scream into my soul. Adrenaline was the only thing moving my body as I whirled it around and tore down the trail for our car.
Cries of battle surrounded us like an out-of-key concerto, building up in a chorus to kill. The rustling of movement, of weapons being pounded on the ground, clashed in rhythm with my heartbeat. The strighoul cried out as they came for us. Their shouts and stomping feet rattled my bones, making it even harder for my legs to sludge through the dense mud.
Lars’s energy was worse than mine. Our bodies were on the verge of collapsing, but we both tried to move faster up the stairs.
The storm clouds moved in and blocked the sunlight, bringing an artificial night.
“Fionna!” Lars screamed when we got to the top, terror snaking through his voice. I twisted to look at him.
Wham.
My body went flying, my bones cracking as I collided with a tree, hitting the ground with an aching crunch.
A strighoul bayed and jumped on me, its sharp teeth snapping for my neck. “You will be so juicy. Tasty Druid. Tasty, tasty treat,” it cackled. I gagged at the fetid scent of it. I was so dizzy and tired that my magic reserve had dried up. Black magic didn’t naturally protect, not as Kennedy’s did, because she was a natural obscurer. The rest of us had to create it, which used far more energy than normal magic.
The strighoul’s claws dug into my arms, pinning me down as it bent over with its mouth open wide to chomp down.
Hands wrapped around the strighoul’s throat with a vibrating growl, snapping its neck. The form went still above me, its body going into shock. Wrath pulsed from the man standing over me. He flung the body to the side, his eyes black with rage, his shoulders hunched in a feral stance.
He might not be a king, but damn, the man was still all demon.
“That was hot.”
Lars’s eyes tore away from the monster on the ground, finding me. He huffed, shaking his head. I could feel the warmth from his demon. It liked I found it sexy. It no longer had to hide or pretend to be what it wasn’t.
Lars reached out to grab my
hand when another strighoul leaped out from the bushes, plowing into the demon, scratching and tearing at Lars’s flesh.
“No!”
I bounded to my feet when another cannibal sprang onto my back, wrapping its arms tightly around my neck, cutting off my air. Every second another one came for us, outnumbering us with unbeatable odds similar to hyenas fencing in their prey.
This couldn’t be how we ended, when we had made it so far. But the lack of air and energy weighed down on my brain, keeping me from fighting back.
Teeth sliced into my neck, and my knees buckled me to the ground. My vision blurred. I couldn’t even feel the pain I knew had to come with it, as though I were already departing from my body. My lashes flickered to Lars one last time. All I could see was blood and black eyes staring back at me before my face smashed into the ground.
~~
Bang!
Blast after blast shot out over the air, drilling into my conscious, but I didn’t give much thought to it. A strighoul screamed and the heaviness weighing me down suddenly lifted, letting oxygen whoosh into my lungs. I gulped in, inhaling particles of dirt and mud.
Voices and pounding feet moved closer to me, but I still couldn’t lift my eyes.
“Shit,” a voice yelled, and a sense of familiarity tapped at my brain. “They’re here! Quick. They are both hurt.”
“Fuck. Fuck!” Another husky voice joined the first. “What the hell happened? What’s wrong with him?”
“I don’t know, but I can feel it…his power is gone,” the first replied. “Go, check on her. I’ll get him.”
Rustling sounded next to my ear. A hand rolled me over, then went around my neck, pressing into my wound. His touch flinched my lids to unlock, sucking in a pained breath.
“Druid.” A man hovered over me, wiping the muck from my face. “I want my knife back,” Travil snarled down at me.
A ghost of a laugh parted my mouth, relief flooding down on me like the rain.
“Lars?” I croaked. Slivers of throbbing went up my neck. Before Travil could even speak, a voice bellowed over to me.
“Fionna? Where is she?”
Travil lifted his eyebrows and glanced over his shoulder. “She’s right here, my liege.” Travil helped me sit up. That’s when I saw the carnage around me. Strighoul scattered the ground like leaves, bullet holes through their heads or hearts. Blood, brain, and matter doused the ground with a layer of fluid.
“Fionna?” Lars pushed past Goran, hobbling to me.
“I’m fine.” I rose to my feet, Travil held me steady as I made my way toward Lars. We met halfway, his hands sliding up my face, his gaze searching me over.
“I’m all right, Lars,” I reassured him again. He continued to stare into my eyes, his hand trying to stop the blood oozing from my neck. I didn’t even have the strength to heal myself. He also had been bitten, but he didn’t seem to be concerned about the blood coursing down his neck.
“Someone get me a clean cloth or shirt. I don’t care,” Lars yelled to his men. In a beat, Goran ripped off his T-shirt and handed it to Lars. Lars rolled it into a ball and plastered it to my neck. “Hold it there until we can clean it out.”
I nodded, cuddling the shirt to my wound.
“I swear, Druid,” he mumbled, glowering for a second. “You will be the one to make me go insane.”
“I hope in the good way,” I whispered, feeling the stunned stares of his guards all around us.
“We both know you already do that.” His hands worked farther back into my scalp, stepping closer to me. “I know you are powerful and can fight, but know I am still going to want to protect you and keep you safe. Okay, Druid?”
“Same, demon.”
He clutched my head, pulling me to him, his mouth finding me. His lips parted mine. The kiss forced me to brace my hands against his chest to keep my knees from collapsing. Consuming and passionate, he tore me from earth, sent me high above the clouds. But this time it went all the way down to my toes, shaking the ground with the words he didn’t say, but I felt them all the same.
He loved me.
And he didn’t hold back, kissing me hungrily, not caring his men gaped at us.
I had never told a man I loved him, and I wasn’t ready to say it out loud now. But it was there, the sensation prickling the back of my mind. I declared it back to him with my mouth; the rest of the world be dammed.
Fionna Cathbad, a staunch fighter for the DLR, was in love with a fae.
No…I was in love with Lars.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Fionna
“They are safe, sir. The room is secure,” Goran confirmed. “Sofia never got close. Travil caught her trying to sneak down to the lower levels. We both had been watching her for a while. I never trusted that raccoon shifter.”
“Glad you are recovered and I have you looking out for me.” Lars nodded to Travil and Goran as we walked through the hangar to the jet waiting for us, still covered in gore, blood, and mud. “Especially when I was not at my best.”
After they had caught Sofia, they “coerced” her into telling them the plan. They sent the jet over while they went through the otherworld doors to get to us on time. I didn’t want to know how they obtained the information from Sofia; I was just glad they did.
Lars gave them a brief rundown on what happened with his uncle. He hated to acknowledge he no longer had the power he used to, but for his protection, they needed to know. Travil and Goran were faithful to him; I knew that in my gut. They would do anything to protect their King, and they would have to, even more now. The fight was far from over.
Lars no longer had the magic of a King, but he still held himself like one. His command would remain unquestioned by his men. It was everyone else we’d have to worry about.
“It seems you are back to yourself, sir.” Goran’s stopped at the bottom of the stairs, his gaze slipping to me.
Lars’s eyes followed, clicking with mine. “I am.”
The last time they saw him, he was talking to ghosts and battling his demon. Now that I could feel the demon, I knew it felt content and happy.
“I am glad for you, my liege.”
Lars nodded, lacing his hand through mine, and took a step up the stairs.
Two women stepped out on either side of the entrance, curtsying slightly. The blonde gazed at him through her lashes as though he were her last meal.
“Oh. Hell. No,” I muttered, my shoulders rising toward my ears.
Lars stopped on the step above mine and turned around with a shite-eating grin on his face. He squeezed my hand tighter. “What?”
“Shut it.” I glared up at him as he widened his smile. “You love this, don’t you?”
He set his mouth, trying to hold back the laugh I could see in his eyes.
Smart boy.
“She’s not staying.” I moved past him up the stairs, letting go of his hand. “Next one is old and male.”
“You think that would stop me?”
My lids tapered into slits, a chuckle bursting from his lips.
“You can hire the next one if it makes you feel better.”
I snapped back to look at him. Was he serious? “Really?”
“You can re-staff the entire house. I don’t care.”
I looked closely at him to see if he was sincere. He tipped his head, his green irises holding steady. I could feel his emotions as clear as day.
“Shite,” I whispered, feeling the true impact of his offer. We had fought our feelings for so long. When we finally gave in to them, they were way ahead of us, knowing what we should have weeks ago.
“Except Marguerite. She’s a deal-breaker.”
“Oh, I’d get rid of you before I’d get rid of her,” I teased. “And that hot incubus. He stays.”
Lars chuckled, shaking his head, his eyes glinting with humor.
As a Druid, I didn’t grow up believing in “mates,” not the way fae did. But I couldn’t deny it was exactly the word my soul conjured up when
I looked at him. He was it. The only one I would ever be happy with. And if I had been more willing to see it, I probably would have noticed it the night he stepped into my world in Ireland, the only person able to challenge me.
“You are also stuck with me,” he replied. He cupped my face, standing even with me.
“Is that how you see it?” I raised an eyebrow. “You’re stuck with me?”
“No, but I am hoping to be stuck deep in you in about five minutes.”
I inhaled, lust rushing over me. He leaned in, kissing me hard. Both stewardesses gasped behind him. I’m sure they were shocked. I had started this journey as his prisoner. Now if we used handcuffs and rope, it would be for fun.
A Druid and a demon. We might be making history.
“Now get up those steps and into the shower before I carry you there.”
“I’m going to be extra loud.”
“Yes, you will. But it will have nothing to do with trying to make her jealous.” He grabbed my hip and turned me to head up the stairs. I raced up, passing the sylph, the jealous air fairy. She glared at me, rage bursting from her eyes like lasers, but I didn’t care. I was too excited to get under that stream of water.
When I entered the back of the plane, I stopped, causing Lars to ram into the back of me.
“What?” His hands slipped around my waist.
I blinked back the tears. On his desk in the office sat two hamburgers, fries, and milkshakes.
“Feck. You know a way to a girl’s heart.”
“I thought you might be hungry. And before you ask, yes, they are both vanilla.”
I touched my chest, snaking around to face him. “Where’s yours?” I teased.
“You think I’m going to eat that crap again? Marguerite sent roast beef sandwiches. To die for.”
“Nice, feed me the garbage while you feast.”
His eyes flared, his foot slamming the office door shut. He lifted me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. He walked us back to the shower, then stripped us of soiled clothing. Our mouths and hands were already frantic for each other. Sprays of warm water doused my head as my back met the tile wall. He lowered me to my feet and lathered me with soap, his hands washing away the blood, dirt, and strighoul brain matter from my body. His touch teased and ignited every nerve in me.
The Fall Of The King (Lightness Saga Book 3) Page 28