Stone Heir (The Kahlian Series Book 1)

by Aimee Hunter

  “I’m coming with you. My brother will be there, it’s past time that I confronted him about his constant betrayals.” Both sisters tensed at the Nightkin’s words for very different reasons, but before any protests could be launched, everyone in the building ducked when the windows shattered inward from an explosion outside.

  Racing outside, the small group were assaulted with the screams of fear and pain from those caught in the blast. Shielding their faces from the heat of the fire spreading quickly from building to building, the four women raced to the top of the wall. They watched in horror as siege weapons from a bygone era rolled toward the doomed city.

  “This is Damian’s handiwork,” Mason growled angrily, hands braced on either side of the embrasure, glaring at the siege towers and engines as they steadily crawled closer to the Great Wall of Culville. Spotlights lit up the horror bearing down on them as torches were lit elsewhere on the wall and down in the army below as day completely gave way to night. The Battle for Culville had begun.

  A gentle breeze stirred Mason’s hair as she beheld the scope of the enemy. They stretched as far as the eye could see and for all their size, they were eerily silent. The only sounds to be heard were the creaking of leather and heavy footsteps on the grass. Mason turned to her sister, torn between staying and leading the defense of the city and rescuing Rena. Her dilemma obvious to Lana, who pulled Mason into a fierce hug.

  “I have the city, Sister. Go. Save her. We’ll be fine.” She whispered into her ear. Mason leaned back just far enough to look into Lana’s eyes.

  “You’ve never faced a city under attack before, Lana.” She replied.

  “True. But I’ve been training my whole life for war, Mason. I know what I’m dealing with, even if I’ve never actually defended a city.” She grinned devilishly. “Besides, I always beat you at strategy games, Oh Great Tactician. This is nothing compared to that.” Mason let out a strained laugh, resting her hand on the younger woman’s cheek.

  “Be safe, little sister.” Mason then turned, making her way down to ground level, sending out a call to her people to meet her at the soldiers’ barracks.

  Sylvia watched Mason disappear before turning back to Lana, brushing her long white hair out of her face where the wind had blown it.

  “I have to go with her, Lana.” She told her softly, her heart breaking all over again at the panic in the woman’s eyes. When Lana started shaking her head, opening her mouth to say anything and everything she could to dissuade Sylvia from running head long into the mouth of the beast with her sister, the beautiful Nightkin stepped forward quickly. Grasping the Kahlian’s hands in her own, Sylvia tried to reassure her.

  “I have to face him,” she shook her head to shush Lana. “He has to answer for his crimes. For Moon Valley. For the deaths of our parents. For what he did to your people, to Diana.” Sylvia drew in a fortifying breath, gathering her courage. “In order for it to ever be right between us, Lana, my brother has to be stopped. I’m the only one that can do that.” She reached up with a shaking hand to smooth over a brow drawn tight in frustration.

  “I never stopped loving you,” she whispered. “Even though I thought you had betrayed me and destroyed everything I’d ever known; I couldn’t make myself stop loving you. I think, deep down, I knew that you weren’t capable of such monstrous acts. But all I had left was my love, my anger and my heartbreak.” Sylvia smiled through the tears that streamed down her face. “I’m sorry for ever doubting you, Lana.”

  At these words, something inside Lana snapped. Wrapping her arms tightly around Sylvia’s waist, she crushed her to her chest. Dipping her head, Lana crashed their lips together in a fierce kiss, filled with longing. She poured all her love and regret and forgiveness into the kiss, a soft whimper escaping her when Sylvia’s arms wound around her neck, holding onto her just as desperately. It had been nearly sixty years since the last time these two women had embraced like this, and it was as if no time had passed at all. All the fire and passion was still there, boiling just under the surface.

  Pulling away just enough to rest her forehead against Lana’s, Sylvia trailed a finger down her cheek tenderly.

  “I’ll find you after this is over. I promise.” Lana’s arms tightened reflexively not wanting to let go. Pressing one more passionate kiss to her lips, Sylvia was able to slip from Lana’s embrace. She walked away as quickly as she could, afraid that if she didn’t leave now, she wouldn’t be able to at all. Once she reached the top of the stairs leading down to the ground, Sylvia paused to look back at Lana, giving her a soft smile that somehow conveyed all the love she still held in her heart for the wild Kahlian. At the sight of the first tear trailing down Lana’s cheek, she ran down the stairs, wanting to catch up to Mason before she left.

  Mason heard Sylvia’s running feet approaching her, unsurprised the Nightkin would decide to join her. Even after seeing her and Lana’s goodbye, she could understand the mutants need to put an end to her brother’s reign of terror.

  Together they met the rest of the Kahlian clan at the soldiers’ barracks. Standing shoulder to shoulder with Sylvia, Mason quickly filled everyone in on the situation. Telling them that Jonathan would be leading them to Rena’s location, providing a distraction if necessary. The man’s face drained of blood at the implication, and he knew with a certainty that he would not survive this night.

  Mason directed half of her people to use the south wall as a means of an exit. Then approach and attack the Impure encampment from that direction while she, Sylvia and the other half would use the tunnel that went underneath the camp and emptied out just behind them to the east. No doubt closer to where Rena would be held. Once the plan was agreed upon the group split up. Mason and Sylvia utilizing their preternatural speed to reach the tunnels exit at the same time as the diversionary squad, using the same speed, reached the southern edge of the enemy camp.

  Emerging from the tunnel, Mason and Sylvia could easily make out the sounds of the battle raging against Culville. They began they trek to the eastern edge of the camp cautiously, not failing to notice the absolute absence of any natural sounds. Sharing a look with the rest of her group, Mason pressed on. Confident at least, that her back was protected. After several minutes, they heard the other groups attack begin to the south. By this time, they had traveled far enough that the camp was within view and they saw most of the guard left behind rush towards the commotion. That was the cue Mason was waiting for.

  They stopped just outside of the light cast by the many fires. Only a token force had been left to guard one tent and they had it completely surrounded with groups of two patrolling the perimeter in intervals. The level of care taken in the security of this one location was extremely telling to Mason. Especially since it was entirely manned by Nightkin warriors. Using her telepathy, she instructed the Kahlian guarding Grimes to stay close then slowly drawing her sword and sharing a nod with Sylvia, Mason moved.

  Darting forward in a blur of motion, three Nightkin men fell to their knees. When they toppled over, their heads bounced across the ground into the light, alerting their comrades that a second attack was being launched. Not wasting any time, the Kahlians and Sylvia cut through everyone who stood in their way, none more so than Mason.

  Finding herself surrounded by five mutants, cut off from the others, but within ear shot of the tent. Mason became very still. She watched the mutants continually circle her, taking in the sounds all around her. The racing hearts of her opponents, she could hear their blood rushing through their veins with their surging adrenaline. The sound of her companions’ steady hearts and calm breathing grounded her. Closing her eyes for a moment, she waited. Waited to hear the telltale sound of a body rushing forward to deliver a killing blow. Hearing the whisper of feet sliding across the leaf covered ground common to late autumn, Mason waited until the last second to duck under the strike aimed for her neck. Spinning inward toward her attacker, she buried her own sword in his stomach, twisting the blade before pushing the already
sagging corpse off of her blade and side stepping the next attack from her left side.

  Twirling her sword in an arc, causing a trail of blood to create the same pattern as it flew from the blade, she brought it around to deflect blow after blow. Defending against two opponents at once. Seeing an opening in the mutant on the rights guard, she slipped under it. Pulling a dagger from its place at the small of her back, she shoved it up through his jaw into his brain, not bothering to retrieve the blade from his body as the mutant dropped, dead before he hit the ground.

  Reaching out she caught the wildly swung sword arm of the other mutant in one hand, stopping its motion cold and decapitating the woman with a back handed swing of her sword. Turning to face the last two, having already noticed that the others had made short work of the rest, Mason smiled coldly. To their eyes, it seemed as though she simply vanished only to reappear behind them. Running one of them through, leaving her sword in the woman’s dead body as she reached around with yet another dagger, this one from her boot, and slit the last mutants throat.

  Retrieving her sword, Mason took a moment to breath. Counting her people to see if anyone had been lost. Feeling a flash of relief to see everyone alive and only sporting a scratch or two. Feeling a presence at her side, she turned to see Sylvia looking at the tent she was sure held Rena.

  “What is it, Sylvia?” the Nightkin woman shook her head, anger in every angle of her face.

  “He’s not here. That son of a bitch is nowhere near Culville!” she exclaimed, her grip tightening on the hilt of the sword she had yet to sheath. Resting a hand on her shoulder, Mason sympathized with her.

  “We’ll get him, Sylvia. He can’t run forever.” At her friend’s nod, she turned her attention back to the tent. Extending her senses, she detected only Rena’s familiar and welcomed scent inside the tent. Sliding her sword back into its scabbard, Mason rushed forward. Eager to see for herself that Rena was alive and whole. Praying to whatever deity still listening to her after all these years that the woman she loved was unharmed.

  Quickly ducking under the tent flap, her relief at finding Rena alive and well and smiling at her was so profound it nearly drove her to her knees. Rena’s own relief that Mason had come for her was visible in her bright smile and teary eyes. Reaching out to her as she began moving towards Rena where she stood, chained to a support beam on the other side of the tent. Intent on taking the younger woman into her arms and never letting her go again.

  After only a few steps the air around the Princess rippled with energy and a tall shadowy figure appeared behind Rena. It was the same cloaked figure Mason had encountered earlier in the tunnels, only now she could see that the being was male. His glowing red eyes sent a chill of fear down her spine. The utter fear on Rena’s face at his appearance froze the blood in Mason’s veins, causing her to take a second too long to realize that the woman seemed to be frozen, with her arms still outstretched towards Mason.

  A cold, twisted smile spread across the man’s face, shadows danced across its sharp angles giving him a ghastly appearance from over Rena’s left shoulder. She watched in horror as a long arm swung out and around the right side of her body, as though he were embracing her from behind. A wicked looking knife clutched in a pale, claw like hand. Aimed straight for Rena’s heart.

  Mason moved to intercept the blade, but found herself held back by some unseen force just enough to slow her down. Giving the man time to plunge the dagger into Rena’s heart.

  “NOOO!!!” Mason screamed, watching Rena’s eyes widen in surprise and her body jerk at the invasion. A trickle of blood fell from the corner of her mouth to drip from her chin when she looked down at her chest. At first confused because there was no pain, but she could clearly see the knife in her chest still gripped by Dominus. She looked up at Mason as she felt the life slowly draining from her body. The pain on the other woman’s face was almost too much to bear. However, she was distracted from her lover’s pained visage by a growing pressure at the base of her skull. Rena didn’t know why she reached up to wrap her hand around Dominus’, locking his hand in place, all she knew is that she needed to before the pressure in her head burst.

  Mason watched as if in slow motion Rena grabbing a hold of the man’s hand just as a shock wave shot out from the daggers entry point. Sending the man flying backwards, across the tent to crash into another support beam, cracking it on impact. Mason found herself struggling to keep her feet when the shock wave swept through her. Some distant part of her mind registering that the group that had followed her inside had all been leveled by it. Mason disregarded that bit of information when she saw Rena’s knees give out. She raced forward to catch her as she pitched forward. Turning her over so she wasn’t face down, Mason tenderly stroked the Princess’ face, tears streaming down her face.

  Rena reached up, grasping Mason’s hand in her own bringing it to her lips to place a gentle kiss on the palm.

  “I love you.” She said weakly. At Mason’s tearful gasp, Rena’s eyes slid closed and her head lolled to the side, the effort to speak expending the last of her energy, draining the last of her mortal life from her body. Mason’s guttural scream of rage could be heard over the sounds of battle in Culville. Alerting Lana that something truly terrible had happened.

  Dominus lay where he had landed moments before in utter shock. He had never felt such power before, and never at the point of death. This woman, who he had assumed to be just another gifted human, was so much more. More even than a Kahlian or Nightkin. She was something he had never encountered before. Dominus felt something in the pit of his stomach he hadn’t felt in three millennia. True fear. The sound of Mason’s rage, only intensified it and Dominus did something he had never in his long life done before.

  He ran.