Blood of Retribution

by Bonnie Lamer

  “There is plenty of time for talking.” The gleam in his eye grows brighter. “Later.”

  A shiver of anticipation runs down my spine. “Show me,” I say with a husky voice.

  Stepping back, he grabs my hand and leads me off the road and into the forest. All the while he has a mischievous grin on his face. When we are far enough from the road that it is no longer visible, he leads me to a humongous tree. From its girth, I’m guessing it has to be a thousand years old.

  Backing me up against it, he kisses me again. This kiss is hungry, as if it wants to eat away at what happened earlier. From where I’m standing, he’s doing a fantastic job. As our hands start to wander and our bodies are yearning for each other, I feel the fabric of my tee disappear. Kallen’s is gone as well, and when our bare skin meets I’m surprised there aren’t sparks from all the combustible heat we’re giving off.

  “Eeeeeewwwww!” the voice of a young child says from behind Kallen. Obviously, we were both too distracted to sense the kids coming. Kids don’t register the same in our minds as adults do.

  Thank goodness I still have a bra on, and in the blink of an eye my shirt is back. I’m pretty sure the kid didn’t see anything except Kallen’s bare back. When we’re put back together, Kallen turns to find the source of the ‘eew’.

  There are actually three kids standing behind Kallen. The smallest one is male and he’s the one who had spoken. I would guess him to be seven or eight. The other two are a little older than him and are female. Their little cheeks are bright pink and there’s a knowing glint in the eyes of the oldest one who looks to be about twelve.

  “Um, hi,” I say weakly as I peer from behind Kallen’s torso. I slap Kallen’s chest to try to get him to stop laughing. “This isn’t funny,” I whisper. “We may have scarred them for life.”

  This only makes him laugh harder. Turning to the children, he says, “Go on home now. I am sure your parents are wondering where you are.” The oldest girl gives him a ‘whatever’ look, but leads the other two away.

  I am beyond embarrassed. “We should go home.”

  Kallen nods, still amused. “That is probably best.”

  I shake my head at him. “You’re terrible.”

  With that, I teleport us back to the mansion; into the kitchen, not to our bedroom, where I would really like to be. I still have the darkness from Kallen that I have to get rid of. I know that would be pushed completely out of my mind if we went directly to our bedroom and I don’t want it to take root. I get a disappointed look from Kallen when he realizes where we are until his body collides hard with another one. Suddenly, both he and Garren are on the floor, tangled up in each other. I must have put us directly in Garren’s path as he was walking through the kitchen. Neither of them is very happy with me right now.

  “Oops,” is all I can manage without giggling. I reach a hand out to Kallen to help him up. Garren is on his own.

  “Perhaps you could limit your appearances to a certain area of the house to avoid physically marring the rest of us?” Garren grumbles as he stands up and straightens his clothes.

  “And miss out on this fun? No way,” I say with a grin. He shakes his head and smiles.

  “You fit in quite nicely around here with that tongue of yours,” Garren says, but he’s more amused now than annoyed.

  “What brings you two barreling back here?” he asks, moving to a stool and taking a seat. He’s rubbing his elbow, which must have hit the tile floor pretty hard with Kallen falling on top of him. “I thought you were spending the day doing research at the palace.”

  “Haven’t you heard what’s going on?” I ask, sitting across from him.

  Garren shakes his head and says sadly, “I find myself living in a void around here.”

  My first thought is to suggest he move, but that would be cruel. I know he’s only staying in hopes of winning back Isla. “To make a long story short, I accidently let some dark magic out of some books in the archives of the palace, and it’s terrorizing the entire realm.”

  Garren’s brows rise practically to his hairline. “You are quite the overachiever.”

  “Yeah, that’s me,” I say. “Apparently, my subconscious figures if I’m going to do something, I might as well go big.”

  He laughs. “Perhaps you should learn to pace yourself.”

  “You are not affected?” Kallen asks abruptly.

  Garren’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead again. “Me? I feel just fine.”

  “It has been affecting everyone. It seems odd you are free of symptoms.” The suspicion in Kallen’s voice is screaming to be heard even if his words are spoken evenly.

  Garren shrugs. “I feel just as I did when I rose this morning.”

  “The wanker is guilty,” Taz says through a yawn, scaring the crap out of me. He really does go wherever I do. That’s kind of creepy. “I say execute him and then we can take a nap.”

  “I am not executing anyone,” I snap.

  Two pairs of eyes are looking at me as if I’m crazy. “I am glad to hear it,” Garren says cautiously, like he’s afraid to stir up the crazy in me any more than it already is.

  “I wasn’t talking to you guys, I was talking to Taz,” I say, realizing this doesn’t make me sound any saner. “He wants to take a nap.” Nope, that didn’t help either.

  “He wants you to execute us so he can take a nap?” Kallen asks.

  “Not you, just Garren.”

  Garren’s eyes cloud with fear. “He told you this?”

  I nod stupidly. I sure hope it doesn’t turn out that I’m imagining these conversations with Taz and it’s really me wanting to do all the crazy stuff.

  Suddenly, a loud boom echoes through the house, snapping me immediately from my inner turmoil. It sounds like it came from a higher floor and bits of plaster begin to rain down on us. My sanity can wait; we need to see what that was. Kallen and I both take off, his long legs besting mine as he reaches the stairs first and tears up them. When I catch up to him at the top of the stairs, he is not moving, just staring at the spot our bedroom was only moments before. I try to go around him, but he holds out an arm and stops me.

  “We do not know what caused this or if there are more explosives,” he says flatly, still in shock.

  “I believe vacating the house is prudent,” Garren says from behind me.

  He and Kallen are both right. We need to get the hell out of here because there could be more explosions coming. God, if I had teleported us back to our bedroom instead of the kitchen, we would have been in there. We would have been in there when this bomb, or whatever it was, went off. Snapping me out of my shock, Kallen grabs my hand and pulls me back down the stairs.

  “Should we call someone?” I ask stupidly, forgetting for a moment that technology is different here.

  “I have already notified Grandmother and the King. I believe Tabitha is with Alita, so she should be safe,” Kallen says. When we reach the terrace, he stops again, pivoting his head in all directions as he searches for any sign of danger. “I believe whoever did this has gone,” he says, “but we need to be cautious.”

  “Cautious? Hell, you may want to consider moving,” Garren says, looking up and down the beach as well.

  “If you find this residence too dangerous, feel free to find another,” Kallen growls.

  Garren looks at him in surprise. “It is not my safety that concerns me. This was obviously a direct attempt on your lives and I only meant that you should take every precaution so that the next attempt is not successful.”

  Clearly, Kallen doesn’t believe him. Narrowing his eyes fiercely, he says, “An empty house would work to your benefit in attempting to win back Grandmother’s heart.”

  Garren is clearly insulted. “Do you really believe that killing her grandson and his wife would win me her heart?” He does have a point.

  As the shock wears off, it starts to sink in to my brain what just happened. It’s surprising that the rest of the house hasn’t collapsed, considering th
e big hole in its side. It still may, making going back in too dangerous. But, what is there for me to go back in for? Our room, and probably everything in it, is gone. Everything I found dear enough to bring with me from my realm is gone. Things I can’t replace. Presents from Mom and Dad over the years like jewelry and books, photo albums from when they were still corporeal and could be caught on film. Souvenirs from my few trips into Denver. All of my non-magical clothes. Gone.

  The weight of the realization cripples me, and my knees give out and my butt hits the terrace floor. I don’t even realize it until I’m suddenly looking at Kallen’s knees instead of this chest. Everything that I loved, every inanimate thing that I held dear, is now gone.

  Kallen kneels down next to me. With a gentle hand, he pushes a stray strand of hair from my eyes. “I am so sorry, Angel,” he says, knowing the thoughts going through my mind.

  I try to muster a smile. “At least we’re okay,” I say.

  “We will find who did this,” he reassures me.

  Damn right we will. I will have no qualms whatsoever using my magic against whoever tried to kill us. A new thought strikes me and a chill runs down my spine. Looking at Kallen with concern, I say, “Why would they have picked now? I mean, it’s not like we would be sleeping and sure to be in bed. So why do it now?”

  Storm clouds are already brewing in Kallen’s eyes as he must have been thinking the same thing. “I fear we may have been followed from the village.”

  I can finish the rest of that thought. “And whoever it was assumed that I would teleport us back to our bedroom instead of the kitchen.” Wow. Whoever did this must know Kallen and me really well. Kallen nods once, his face going so hard that I’m tempted to slide back a little bit.

  I can’t help it, my eyes shift to Garren, the odd man out in the household. Expecting the accusation, he says, “I knew you were in the kitchen. Why would I have set a bomb to go off in your bedroom?”

  I shrug, wanting to believe him for Isla’s sake but I’m not convinced yet. “You weren’t expecting us to be in the kitchen. Maybe you followed us home and set the bomb on a timer and miscalculated.”

  “Or maybe I could have killed you in your sleep every night since your return to this realm,” he snaps back.

  “I would have sensed him following us,” Kallen says tersely. I can tell he wanted the easy answer of Garren being responsible, but he’s moved past that. “If there was someone magical following us, I would have felt their magic and you would have as well.”

  He’s right. I’m not always as good at paying attention to the buzzing in the back of my mind when in the presence of someone magical, but Kallen is. He would have known we were being followed. Garren is off the list. “Hey, how about the scribe? He was the one who called me out in the middle of the village, and he was gone by the time things were calmed down and we left. His magic was really weak, maybe we both ignored it.”

  Kallen’s brows knit together as he ponders this idea. “I believe that is worth discussing with my uncle.”

  A clamor of noise from the back of the house gets our immediate attention. All three of us pull magic, not knowing what to expect. With a synchronized sigh of relief, we all let our magic go when the King and his private guards come barreling around the house.

  Dagda does a beeline for me. With his hands on my shoulders, he searches me for any sign of injury. “Are you well?” he asks.

  I nod. “We were downstairs when it happened.”

  Dagda does his own sigh of relief, but that emotion is short lived for him. Turning to his guards, he says, “Search the house. Thoroughly. I want nothing missed. If you are the least bit suspicious of something, bring it to my attention immediately.”

  “I will aid in the search,” Isla says as she comes out the terrace door. She walked through the house instead of around it. I want to tell both her and Dagda that’s not safe, but I know neither would listen. “Kallen,” she says, “are you up to joining the search? You will know as well as I if anything is out of place.”

  Kallen nods. With a quick kiss on my lips, he stands and follows Isla back into the house. It makes sense that she didn’t ask me to help, I guess. My curiosity and desire to explore the house has always been trumped by some disaster. Like this one. So, I wouldn’t know if anything is out of place.

  “Come,” Dagda says, holding his hand out to me. “We will wait in my carriage. I do not like having you exposed like this.” His eyes have been scouring the shoreline since he arrived.

  He’s right. I am a sitting duck out here. Putting my hand in his, I let him pull me up. My legs feel a little rubbery as the shock hasn’t completely worn off yet, but I force one in front of the other.

  At the back of the house near the garage, Dagda’s everyday carriage is parked. Two guards are in place, one on either side, ensuring that it is not messed with. Dagda opens the door and I climb into the wonderland of blue comfort. The walls of the carriage are a pale blue and the soft leather seats are a beautiful midnight blue. The carriage is large enough to transport six, so we are definitely not crowded. Dagda pulls open a small cabinet door and takes out two glasses and two decanters, setting them on a fold down table he puts in place between us. In one glass, he pours a clear liquid that I am sure is water and he slides it across the table to me. In his glass, he pours a brownish liquor that I am sure is scotch. He downs it one gulp. I’m guessing that the burning feel of it as it slides down his throat eases him somehow. I take a sip of my water and try not to cry over everything I lost in the explosion.

  Looking at me again, Dagda says, “I would appreciate it if you limited your life-threatening disasters to one per day.”

  I try to muster a laugh because I know he’s teasing me, but a slight upturn at the corners of my mouth are all I can manage. “You know me, I’m an overachiever,” I say wryly, repeating Garren’s description of me.

  Dagda barks a laugh. “That you are.” He pours himself another shot of scotch. He doesn’t down it this time, though; he simply takes a small drink. “Any ideas of who is responsible?” he asks.

  I shake my head, but then remember what I said to Kallen and Garren. “The scribe started a mob scene when I was in town. Could it have been him?”

  Dagda thinks about it for a minute. “He is an annoying old bastard, but I do not believe he is capable of such a thing. Primarily because of his mobility issues. The Fairy can hardly move and his magic has all but left him. He was not a strong Fairy in his youth and the years lessened his power more so than in anyone else I know.”

  “He seems to really hate me regardless of all that. Maybe someone helped him?” I certainly have enough enemies here. Any one of them could have helped.

  Dagda takes a moment again before answering. “He is not known for his charming personality, so I doubt anyone was able to stand his company for the amount of time planning something like this would take. Though, he did send you into the dark magic section without any warnings or cautionary tactics.” He absentmindedly twirls his drink on the table. “I believe it is worth questioning him. I will have him found and brought back to the palace if he has not already returned for questioning.” Opening a window, he beckons to the nearest guard and gives him the order, and then he closes the window again.

  “Now,” Dagda says with a flash of anger as he changes the topic, “tell me what happened in the village today.” I’m pretty sure he already knows.

  My cheeks pink and I look down at my water. “It wasn’t a big deal. I mean, the guy has a right to hate me if he wants.”

  “Xandra,” Dagda says sharply, causing me to look up. “A Kingdom is based upon power and hierarchy. You are the one and only Princess of this realm. In the realm of your birth, you have a President, correct?” I nod and he continues. “If someone physically attacked this man or a member of his family, what would occur?”

  My heart sinks. “That person would go to prison, probably for the rest of his or her life.”

  “Then why should it be any
different in this situation?”

  Because it’s me and I don’t feel like the President’s daughter, or the King’s daughter. I feel the same way that I did back in Colorado. I’m just simple ol’ me.

  In a quiet voice, Dagda says, “You are a Princess, whether you feel like one or not.”

  Oh. Did I say that out loud or am I just that easy to read? “I know, but it’s hard to get used to. It’s hard to think about someone spending the rest of his life in prison just because he touched me.”

  “It is my understanding that he did more than simply touch you,” Dagda growls, having difficulty now keeping his anger in check.

  True. “That’s why Kallen punched him in the face.”

  Dagda barks a laugh. “I will have to thank him the moment I see him, then. Now, tell me in great detail what happened so I am prepared to question the Fairy later.”