by Leia Shaw
She swung a right hook with her glowing fist into his jaw. He howled and staggered back, blood seeping through his long fangs. But his counterattack was swift and he knocked her backward into the wall. The crack on her skull against the stone made her feel like vomiting.
She groaned as she slumped to the floor. Two men grabbed each of her arms and dragged her back to Cadmael. He gestured for them to hold her down on the table.
Though she kicked and writhed, even with her extra strength she was no match for the werewolves.
Cadmael’s usually merry demeanor seemed rushed. “I thought we might be able to do this the easy way, daughter, but I suppose not.”
Marcelo stepped into view. He nodded to the men holding her and said something in another language. With a confused glance at each other, they both let her go and backed away.
Cadmael blinked. “Marcelo, what is this?”
“We will take no part in this,” he answered evenly. “It is between you and your daughter. She has a right to try for the throne.”
He peered around the room, his eyes wide. Then that familiar smirk crept onto his lips. “You would recognize her as your leader should she beat me?”
They rumbled softly to one another.
Marcelo spoke for them. “Aye. We would.”
Cadmael laughed out loud. Her father had a truly fucked up sense of humor. “I won’t keep you in suspense then.”
He shoved one large hand onto her chest and pressed down with inhuman strength. His eyes went blank – no twinkle of amusement like before. He meant to kill.
She raked her nails down his arm, drawing blood, which he ignored. Her lungs burned then her sternum cracked. She exhaled a sob.
His lips curled into a sinister smile. When she kicked out at him, he dodged her. Her energy drained from her writhing body as she stared up at the domed ceiling. Droplets of water splashed onto the glass in a slow drizzle.
She was dying, slowly, torturously.
Have to fight.
Black spots dotted her vision. The rain fell harder – it sounded like marbles against the roof.
Get up, Sage.
The downpour mimicked her own drowning so perfectly, her mouth curled into a delirious smile.
Don’t die on me, cariad. James’ voice entered her head. Hallucinating him wasn’t such a bad way to go out, she supposed. Her eyes fluttered closed as her mind sought the blissful peace of sleep.
Fight, damn it!
With a sudden burst of strength, she extended her fangs and sunk them deep into Cadmael’s arm. He recoiled, taking the pressure off her chest. She gasped, heaving in a lungful of air while keeping her fangs imbedded in his skin. That was as far as she’d gotten in her plan.
Cadmael chuckled darkly. It was not the reaction she was hoping for. A hand clamped onto her cheeks and pulled her fangs from his skin. He held her in place with claws digging into her flesh and looked out into the crowd.
“I see someone has betrayed me.” He bent down to look in her eyes. “Do you really think a measly pair of fangs is enough to kill me? They’re not even full size.”
With a little shove, he released her then sauntered away as if he hadn’t a care in the world – as if there weren’t a vampire-sorceress-witch at his back, desperate to kill him. But she was too busy dragging air into her lungs and trying to ignore the burning agony of a cracked sternum to do anything other than lay, broken, on the table.
Cadmael sat down, leaned back in his chair, and placed his feet on the table.
Narrowing his eyes, he commanded, “Come.”
She wasn’t ready to fight him. Not yet. She was still curled in the fetal position, panting and holding her chest. Yet her body moved without her permission. She jolted upright, causing a yelp of pain to wrench free.
One foot stepped towards him, the other followed. Panic struck. She strained against the forced movement but it was no use. She couldn’t stop herself from walking to him.
He was a Mindbender.
Shit! Shit, shit, shit! No wonder he was so cocky. He could force anyone to do anything he wanted.
He watched her with a smug look on his face. How could she fight him when she couldn’t even control her own body?
The air she could scarcely take in felt thick and heavy. Tears stung her eyes. She looked at Marcelo. He kept his gaze steadily on her – looking more confident than ever.
Couldn’t he see she was losing?
Once Cadmael had forced her to him, he rose from the chair and towered over her. Sneering, he used his mind to force her to her knees. He was speaking to her but she couldn’t hear him over the sound of the heavy rain on the glass roof.
Every time she tried to take control of her body, her pain worsened. Her arms hung limply at her sides.
Cadmael bent over and leaned in toward her neck.
He’s going to do it. He’s going to drink my blood.
His fangs tore into her skin and she cried out in pain. It wasn’t a seductive sting like with James, this was agony. He drank greedily and she felt her magic slowly slipping away. Tears flowed freely from her eyes – she was uncaring of who watched.
She had failed. She’d failed Marcelo. She’d failed James and Erin. But mostly, she’d failed herself.
Her body weakened with each long draw he took. If he hadn’t held her there with his mind, she would have collapsed on the floor. Her eyelids were heavy, her mouth dry, her fingers and toes numb. It was over.
I’m sorry James. She looked up at the sky, darkened with black clouds. She wished they’d had more time.
“I’m sorry,” she rasped aloud.
She tried to slip away into unconsciousness, but something deep inside her was still fighting, clawing at her insides, unwilling to give up. Twenty-five years of survival instinct.
Her eyes snapped open just as a bolt of lightning crashed through the ceiling, shattering the glass and raining down around them.
The bolt of lightning struck the Dark King, piercing through him and landing in her outstretched hands beneath him.
Cadmael was thrown backward and instinct kicked in. She lit sword in her hand and lunged forward, following Cadmael’s retreat and sliced through his body. The first swipe ripped from his shoulder to his hip. The second cut through his neck. His lifeless body collapsed to the ground.
Rain continued to pour as she stared at her father’s body surrounded by a pool of blood on the floor. She fell to her knees.
The room spun and she thought she might either pass out or vomit. Two large boots appeared in front of her. Swiping back her drenched hair, she looked up into Marcelo’s eyes.
He put out a calloused hand and said, “My Queen.”
She took his hand, rose unsteadily to her feet, and looked out into the crowd.
Dozens of eyes stared back at her with shock and awe. They slowly began to take a knee, one by one. Bowing. To her.
***
James ran as fast as he could, headlong into Sage’s scent, not caring what met him when he found her.
Something hit him and he flew backward into a tree. Before he could see his enemy, a pair of silver cuffs dug into his skin and his arms were secured behind his back. He didn’t fight because he knew that whatever these creatures were, they would bring him that much closer to Sage. And he would take it, even in silver handcuffs.
Chapter 19
Sage was grateful for Marcelo’s presence in the Underworld in the last week. Not only had he saved her life, but he’d helped her through the transition in becoming the Queen.
He knew the kingdom well. He understood the needs of those living there so she put a lot of trust in his word. She’d even asked him several times if he wanted the throne. He was strong, smart, and more qualified than she. But he refused, saying it was only his sense of responsibility in creating Cadmael that kept him in the Underworld for the last century.
Marcelo had told her there were many werewolves and vampires living Topside who’d made lives for themselves despite the
growing threat of those who wanted to eliminate them – like the Counsel, who, ironically, were feared by the Underworld inhabitants.
The Underworld contained only a small number of supernaturals. The vampires that remained Topside had their own government, which consisted of chaos and violence. But Sage wanted the Underworld to be open to any creature that needed a safe haven, as well as a prison for those who couldn’t live among humans.
She’d just finished a plan for re-growing the nearby forest when Marcelo popped into her office.
“Hello, Marcelo.”
“Queen,” he said from behind her chair.
It had become a twisted game between the two of them –Marcelo would traverse into a room to try to startle her. But since she’d obtained her superhuman senses, she’d been able to sense him every time, though it didn’t stop him from trying.
She gave an exaggerated sigh as she turned to face him. “I told you to stop calling me that.”
His lips twitched. “Sorry.” He moved to the other side of the desk. “Majestic Queen Eirian of the Massachusetts Order of the…the…”
“Vwitcheress’!” she finished for him.
Marcelo may have addressed her as royalty, some of the time, but really they were equals. And they both knew it.
His gaze lifted to the ceiling as if he were praying for strength. She made an irritated sound.
“I need to talk to you about taking my leave,” he said.
She frowned. “Already?”
“I told you I was only here to take care of my people. I’ve been in the Underworld too long already.”
She sighed and shifted back in her office chair. “But why? What’s so important Topside that you have to abandon me so soon?”
Marcelo seemed reluctant to answer, which made Sage itch with curiosity. “I have a…quest.”
“A quest? Who are you? King Arthur?”
“Who?”
“Do you seek The Holy Grail?” She chuckled to herself.
“The what?”
Apparently movie references were irrelevant when you lived in the Underworld. “Never mind. So tell me about this quest.” She smiled slyly. “Does it have to do with a girl?”
“How do I say this nicely?” He rubbed a hand over his chin. “It’s none of your business, reina.”
She grinned. “Come on, you can tell me. I can keep a secret.”
“I will tell you about my quest,” he flashed a devious smile, “if you tell me about the vampire you slept with.”
Her grin faded and she grabbed the stack of papers on her desk and straightened them to distract herself. “You have freedom to leave for your quest whenever you’d like.”
He didn’t say any more as he turned to leave, but she didn’t miss the smirk he tried to hide.
“Oh,” he said turning back to her. “Speaking of your vampire…”
Her vampire? She opened her mouth to protest.
“You have a visitor. He says his name is James and he demands to see you.” He gave her a lopsided grin.
She had the sudden urge to chuck a stapler at his head.
“Of course he demands it,” she muttered under her breath. She wondered if Marcelo could hear her heart skipping beats. “Bring him to the front hall. I’ll meet him there.”
Marcelo bowed slightly. “Your wish is my command, Majestic Queen of the Vwitcheress’.” He stepped closer and whispered, “Your title will never catch on with the others you know.”
Her lips twitched. “I know. I just enjoy watching you squirm.”
He nodded then put his mouth to her ear. “I have a feeling, if this James is who I think he is, you’ll be the one squirming soon enough.” He jumped back with a satisfied grin while she lifted the stapler in a threatening motion.
She left her work and made her way to the front hall where she’d first met her father just one week ago. Goosebumps covered her skin and she tried to slow the racing of her heart.
He came for me.
She had to push aside the flutter of hope that welled in her chest. He’d probably only come for revenge. And if he didn’t hate her already, he would once he found out who she was. They could never be together. Her insides twisted as sharp pain speared her chest. Another piece of her heart broke.
It was best for James to move on – to find a demure sorceress who didn’t make him grind his teeth with frustration all the time. Someone who would love him as much as…she did.
She swallowed hard and shook that thought away. There was no point in dwelling on those feelings. Though it would hurt, he couldn’t know she’d ever loved him.
It’d been fleeting anyway. A different time and place. Funny how two week’s time changed everything.
Before entering the front hall, she took a moment to pull herself together. Now she was a queen. And it was time to act the part.
***
James had spent the past two days locked in a magic-proof, silver-lined cell in the basement of Cadmael’s castle, Rheol Hearn. In fact, it may have even been the same cell he’d been locked in the first time he was in the Underworld more than a hundred and fifty years ago.
He’d have a fucking stroke if the blood staining the ground was his. He shuddered at the painful memories. The scent of disease and decay made bile rise in the back of his throat. The only thing holding him together was being surrounded by Sage’s scent. He’d been searching for her heartbeat, or the sound of her voice, or anything that would prove she was alive, but exhaustion dulled his senses.
She was in the castle though – or had been recently, he could tell that much. His shoulders sagged in defeat. Two weeks it’d been since he’d held her in his arms. Once he had her there again, they would never part, not even for two hours.
A vampire appeared in his cell.
James rose to his feet and demanded, “Where is Sage? I know she’s here. I can smell her.”
The vampire ignored him and produced a pair of silver handcuffs.
“Please, she’s young and she’s more fragile than –” He stopped and inhaled a deep breath.
Sage. The Spanish vampire reeked of her. He hissed in a breath then lunged for his throat.
“If you laid a single hand on my –”
His threat was cut short when the vampire easily pushed him aside, sending him flying into the dungeon wall. Were James fed and rested, he probably would have been an equal match. But hungry and exhausted he was in no condition to fight.
“At least tell me if she’s alive, damn it.”
The vamp fastened the silver handcuffs on his almost healed skin. “She is alive,” he answered.
A moment later, they stood in a large stone hall with a winding staircase and a balcony above.
Silence stretched on then a door slammed. The clinking of heels on a hallway floor echoed across the stone foyer. Sage’s sweet scent filled the air.
His heart sped up, his muscles tensed readying to run for her, but the vampire kicked him to his knees and he felt the tip of a silver sword at his neck.
The clinking sound moved down the stairs and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He swayed a little when a wave of power washed over him.
Cadmael?
He lifted his gaze to see two knee-high leather boots, shapely thighs with fishnet stockings, and hips that filled out a short black skirt riding low and flashing a bare navel. Higher, a pair of lovely breasts spilled out of a dark purple top held together on the side with metal clasps.
He’d never seen anything so sexy in all his life. When he caught a glance at the face that went with the body, his jaw dropped.
Brown hair was braided back from her face then hung loose around her shoulders and she wore a small platinum crown.
“Sage?” He squinted up at her. He didn’t know whether he wanted to rip off that sexy outfit with his teeth or cover her up with his coat.
She sauntered slowly down the last few stairs. “It’s Eirian. Princess Eirian to you.”
Her voice made him breath
e a sigh of relief. She was alive. Different, but at least alive.
“Or you could just call me, Your Majesty.”
Buggar me. She was on one hell of an ego trip. “What are you doing?”
“Fulfilling my destiny, of course. Becoming the Princess of the Dark. Meeting my long lost evil father. But of course, you knew all that, didn’t you?” She gave him an accusing glare.
“Yes,” he answered softly. “But not at first. And it doesn’t make anything we had less real.”
“Ha. Right.” She rolled her eyes, reminding him of the real Sage – the one whose lack of presence had been torturing him the last two weeks.
He wanted so badly to draw her into his chest, bury his face in her hair then kiss every inch of her skin. With handcuffs on, and a sword at his back, he was in no position to do anything but…chat.
“Sage, leave with me now,” he pleaded. “There’s nothing here for you. Come home with me. It’s where you belong.”
“What do you know about where I belong?”
He lifted his chin. “You belong with me. By my side, Sage. Forever.”
“Why, so you can boss me around some more? You know,” she leaned in, “I think it’s funny you think you still have a say in anything anymore.” He’d said that same thing to her when they’d started training.
“What are you getting from this alliance?”
She gave him a bored look. “Oh, you know…money, power, world domination. All that jazz. Besides, it’s what I am.” She planted a hand on her hip and her skirt rode up an inch.
James growled.
“Come on, James. You’ve seen the dark corners of my mind. It all fits, doesn’t it? I don’t respect rules. I’m mean. I have issues with authority. I don’t make emotional connections.”
He shook his head furiously. “You connected with me, Sage. I know you did. We had something real.”
For a moment, her facade faltered. “Maybe you thought we did.”
“I know we did.” He grinned. “And your response to me in the cave proves it.”
The only thing that prepared him for the Bolt was the livid look on her face. It knocked him off his feet and threw him into the back wall.