by Celia Aaron
Desmerada shrieked as she ripped the arrow out. “How dare you!” she cried. “I am your queen. You will stand down or suffer my wrath!”
Another arrow, this time joining the one in her chest. “Stop talking,” Faren ordered as he approached her. He was bloodied but victorious. “One more word and it will be your last.”
Faren climbed the platform, nocked an arrow, and aimed it at her face. Desmerada opened her mouth to speak again, her brows drawn together in fury, but the silvery tip of the bolt seemed to change her mind. Silence.
Satisfied that there was no threat to Elena, I turned back to her. Her eyes fluttered open, and a weak blast of fire radiated around her. I withstood it, ignoring the pain, and pulling her tightly into my arms. The fire dissipated as soon as I touched her.
“Paris,” she whispered.
“I’m here. Rest now.”
“Safe?” she asked.
“Safe.”
Her lashes lowered, the gossamer gold resting against her pale skin. “Good. Wouldn’t w-want you t-to be spider bait.”
I pulled her to my chest and buried my face in her hair as she went limp, exhaustion stilling her.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Elena
I slept deeper and better than I ever had in my life. Awakening in a strange room, I peered at the dark furniture and overdone crimson accents everywhere. It was easily the hugest bedroom I’d ever seen. After living in Artemis's woods for thousands of years, I might never get used to such grandeur.
The walls were heavily paneled with the same near-black wood that grew in the Darkwood. Images of Desmerada hung everywhere—dressed in a crimson robe, sitting astride some large, dead beast, its blood coating her mouth, and on and on. The boudoir paintings were the worst. Who had close-up, detailed paintings of their own most private areas lining the walls of their bedroom? Desmerada.
The ceiling soared away overhead, intersected by sturdy beams of the same dark wood. Mirrors hung over the bed. I could see myself, curled up on my side, my hair in a tangle. I wore one of Paris’s shirts, though I didn’t know how I’d gotten into it. I caught a shadow moving in a reflection and rolled to my right.
It was Paris, hopping on one leg as he stabbed the other into some pants.
I smiled. “Going somewhere?”
He gave up the effort and fell back onto the bed. “I didn’t know when you’d wake and figured you needed your rest.”
“How long have I been out?”
“Just overnight. The suns are rising over our kingdom.”
He encircled me in his arms and kissed me, taking my breath away with the steady pressure of his mouth. I had a million questions but seemed to forget every single one when he kissed me. I could focus on nothing but him.
I opened my lips for him, and he slipped his tongue inside, stroking mine. I ran my fingers through his hair and gripped him. He pulled the blanket away from my body and moved on top of me, one leg between my knees as he continued his now-fervent kiss.
He set a fire within me that had nothing to do with magic and everything to do with how he made me feel. Gods, the hard sensation of him against me would drive me to do something wanton. I squeezed his locks until I knew it hurt. He growled into my mouth, eased a hand up my shirt, and cupped my breast, teasing the hard nipple with his thumb. He swallowed the moan that rose from me.
A cough from across the room had me crashing back down to reality. “My lord, I-I’m sorry to interrupt, but you’re needed…”
Paris broke our kiss. “Faren, I forgot you were there.”
“Been here the whole time, my lord.”
I looked across the expansive room and could see Faren’s broad smile even from that distance. With a quick yank, I pulled the blanket over me. Faren’s low laugh caused heat to seep into my cheeks.
“Sorry,” Paris whispered in my ear. “I really did forget. You do that to me.”
“What’s going on? Where are we?”
“This is our bedroom. Well, it’s the king’s chambers.”
“This is going to require a lot of redecorating,” I said, hoping that I never saw another crimson piece of fabric as long as I lived.
Paris leaned back toward me, perching on his elbow. “Does that mean you’ll stay?”
“Can we talk about this later?” I shot a glance to Faren.
“We can.” Paris’s tone was cool as he pushed away from me and managed to get his pants on.
Though my feelings for Paris were intense, this victory changed nothing. I still intended to take Menelaus’s head. And after that? I didn’t know. Who was I if Artemis no longer wanted me in the ranks? Where would I go? I needed to think, to plan, but all that crumbled whenever Paris caught me in that sky-blue gaze. He was now locked into my deepest heart, though he may have been in there all along. How could I explain all these feelings? Was there a strategy for that?
“My lady, you’re needed as well,” Faren said. “Please join us in the throne room once you’re ready.”
Paris covered the distance to the door in rapid strides, and they left without saying another word.
I rose and stretched. It felt like I’d been in battle for months. The soreness in my joints would take a few days to subside. I had never used so much of my power, not even in the wars of Olympus. I still felt the hum within me; the magic was always there, always strong.
I went to the colossal walk-in closet. The clothes in there were mostly crimson. I rolled my eyes as I ran my hands along the rows and rows of gowns and corsets. I didn’t want to remove Paris’s shirt but couldn’t wear that in front of his people. I pulled it over my head and buried my face in his smell, breathing deeply before setting it aside. My wounds had healed, and I’d been cleaned. Hopefully by Paris and not some stranger. The thought of him giving me a bath, lathering me up all over, made me lean against the shoe rack.
Shaking the thoughts from my mind, I continued perusing the clothes. Toward the back, I found a section of black items, thank the gods. I chose a black top, the back open in a crisscross pattern. There were no pants to be found anywhere, so I donned a black skirt with a hem that was far north of my knees. There were no flats, only high heels after high heels. I chose a random pair, but they fit well enough. My outfit was the best of the worst.
I continued through the closet into a marbled bathroom. A huge tub was sunken in the floor, and overhead were hooks. I didn’t want to know what the hooks were for, though I could guess. At one of the large mirrors, I chose a hairbrush from a tray and smoothed my hair, the yellow of my strands discordant against the backdrop of crimson and black. Sometimes, standing out was a good thing.
I left the king’s chambers and followed the sound of voices. The throne room was nearby. A table had been erected in the center, and Paris sat at the head with Shildreth and Faren on each side. A small contingent of Faren’s soldiers stood at each door, ready for any trouble.
“We’ve secured all ingresses. The portal is secured. Desmerada had it bewitched so that it only works as an exit. None can enter. We have guards on it at all times, just in case. The keep is ours. Most of the nobles fled into the Darkwood. The ones who stayed are locked in the dungeon. We have our emissaries going to the townspeople in the keep and making inquiries. All in all, they are relieved to be rid of Desmerada and are welcoming you with open arms. They have suffered under her reign, as have so many others.”
Paris stilled when he saw me enter the room and followed my every move like a predator.
Shildreth rose and opened her arms as I approached. I went to her and accepted a hug that almost squeezed the very last breath from my body.
“You’ve done it!”
I held Shildreth at arm’s length. “You have the strength of a bear, you know that?”
“You should see what she can do in private.” Faren laughed.
Shildreth swatted at him before patting the seat beside her for me.
Paris rubbed the five o’clock shadow on his face when I sat, his gaze goin
g to my knees and farther up.
“Everything all right?” I asked and batted my lashes at him. I’d been sly in warfare, but this was a new battlefield for me. I rather liked it, especially when Paris’s fangs lengthened as he watched me.
Faren clapped him on his back and seemed to awaken him from his stupor. “Now, on to the particulars. We’ve managed to put out the blaze in the east wing.”
Paris tilted his chair, balancing on two rear legs and grinning at me. “Is that so? How did a fire start all the way on that side of the keep?”
“I’m not entirely sure, my lord. But the spymaster’s quarters were destroyed right along with him.”
Paris nodded. “Good riddance. Continue.”
“We have two more pressing issues. The first is Desmerada—”
“She lives?” I figured Faren would have destroyed her as the first order of business.
“For now.” Faren nodded. “It is for the king to decide her fate.”
Paris dropped his head back, as if he’d find the answer in the gaudy bath scene above their heads. “What should we do with her? Obviously, I want her dusted. Anyone have any reason why that shouldn’t happen?”
Shildreth and Faren were silent. Shildreth’s demeanor chilled, and a tremor went through her. Faren reached across the table and took her hand. They were both riding the high of taking the keep, but the ghost of their lost child no doubt lingered in their minds, a wound that could never heal.
“I think Shildreth should get the final say,” I said.
Paris brought his gaze down to me. He had a question in his eyes. I just nodded slightly toward Shildreth.
Paris seemed to take my faint hint. “Shildreth?”
Shildreth shook her head. “This isn’t for me to decide. So many have suffered at her hands, not just me and”—she looked at Faren—“our child.”
Her well of grief for the baby that was lost was closer to the surface than even I had guessed. It seemed bottomless yet overfull as a tear slid down Shildreth’s smooth cheek.
Paris leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, his brows knitting together. “I see. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
Shildreth nodded and wiped a tear away with the back of her hand.
Paris put his hand on Shildreth’s. “Elena’s word is as good as mine. Shildreth and Faren, it is for you to decide Desmerada’s fate. Whatever you choose, I will see it done.”
I was surprised to hear him give my word such weight. After all, now he was the vampire king. And I was… Well, I still didn’t know what I was. But I didn’t belong at this table with vampire royalty, not really.
Shildreth shook, more tears spilling from her eyes. I embraced her and wished I could wick her pain away. I couldn’t even begin to imagine the agony of losing a child, much less losing one to Desmerada’s whim. All I had to offer was my support.
Even so, Shildreth calmed in my arms before drying her eyes and straightening her back. “Thank you, my lord and lady. Thank you. We will think on it and come to a decision. May we have some time to discuss it?”
“That’s fine.” Paris seemed to tick that off his list. “She isn’t going anywhere. She’s getting well acquainted with my silver cage. Now, what was the second thing?”
Faren took a shaky breath. “And the second is Liatra.”
“Oh, gods, where is she?” I knocked my chair over, I rose so quickly. I’d forgotten all about the captive seer. If Apollo arrived and found Liatra chained, he would smite first and ask questions later.
“She is in Desmerada’s lounge. We’ve treated her as an honored guest ever since we found her,” Shildreth said.
“Did she tell you who she was?” I asked.
Shildreth shrugged. “Just a seer. Kidnapped after Desmerada killed her own.”
I backed away from the table. “I’ll, uh, handle Liatra.”
It was probably a good thing they didn’t know of the danger hanging over their heads. I would do my best to take care of it before Apollo showed up and leveled the keep.
“What is it?” Paris could read me too damn well.
“Nothing. Don’t worry.”
He narrowed his eyes but didn’t press me further.
“Which way is Desmerada’s lounge?”
“Out the way you came and to the left, seven doors down on the right,” Shildreth said.
I took off and felt Paris’s gaze roving my backside, so I added a little extra sway to my hips as I went. The sound of snapping wood had me looking over my shoulder. Paris had gripped the edge of the table so hard, it had cracked. His gaze was pure heat that sent a thrill down my spine. I could get used to looks like that.
“Easy, my lord,” Faren said, humor returning to his voice as I turned the corner out of Paris’s sight.
I trotted down the long hall and into the antechamber. Liatra sat quietly in Desmerada’s predictably overdone lounge. The room was done in rich silks, all in black for a change. But in the center sat an enormous ruby, roughly cut, yet still brilliant in the sun that filtered through the skylights. It was gorgeous and no doubt priceless. Too bad it was crimson.
Liatra stood as I entered and bowed.
“Queen,” she said.
“Oh, I’m not the queen—not a vampire, not, you know—anyway, I don’t quite know what…” I trailed off, silenced by the seer’s midnight eyes. They were hypnotic yet warm.
“You may not know, but I do.” Liatra smiled and sat.
I did the same, taking a seat opposite from her. “We have to get you back to Delphi, and sooner rather than later. Before Apollo comes for you. I know there’s a portal here in the keep somewhere. Is there one in Delphi?”
“No, but—”
“Is there one close? We could portal to the nearest one, and then I’ll escort you back to your home. Apollo will be none the wiser.” I held out my hand, ready to put my plan in motion.
“Oh, Helen. It’s too late for that. He’s already here.”
A shimmering arrow flew past my ear and lodged in the paneled wall.
I jumped forward and covered Liatra with my body before turning to face my attacker. My mouth gaped open a little when I saw my sister maiden standing in the doorway, her bow drawn taut.
“Elena?”
I knew the voice. It warmed my heart. “Lilah?”
“What are you—”
“You shot at me!”
“I didn’t know it was y—”
“Oh my gods, I’ve missed you.”
Lilah lowered her bow, letting it fade into the ether as we rushed to each other. I gave my sister a Shildreth-sized hug. Tears stung my eyes. I hadn’t realized just how much I missed all my sisters, especially Lilah.
Apollo strode in behind Lilah and watched us, openly admiring the view of the warriors’ embrace. “Now this is more like it.”
He was the perfect male of legend—tall, built, blond, and utterly full of himself in every way possible. I ignored his lusty overture.
Lilah pulled away, her blue-gray eyes troubled. “Surely you didn’t take Liatra?”
“No, no. It was Desmerada.”
Lilah glanced around. “Where is that harpy? I’m going to punch her in the tit for cheating me out of my Wife of Bath money.”
Before Lilah entered Apollo’s service, she’d written a scathing tell-all on the vampire queen, at the queen’s behest, of course. But Desmerada cut Lilah out of her share of the profits. Seemed it was still a sore spot.
“My city is bursting with gold,” Apollo said. “You can have as much as you want, whenever you want. Why do you want hers?” His eyes twinkled, as if he knew exactly how this conversation was going to go. He enjoyed goading Lilah almost as much as I did.
“Because it’s mine, that’s why,” she said.
Lilah turned back to me, her black hair whipping out in a streak as her ire rose even further. “Where have you been? We’ve been searching all over earth for you, and I find you here? We’ve been worried sick! Between you and Iphi—gods
!”
“It’s a long, long, long story. Wait, what’s the deal with Iphi?”
“We don’t really know. She sent a message via fairy saying she was on some sort of vacation, being treated like a princess somewhere. You know how she is. She just, you know, does stuff without thinking. She seems fine, though, if the Cheetos smudges on the letter are any indication. So we’re letting her have her fun before hunting her down.”
“Hasn’t Artemis been looking for her?” I couldn’t imagine the goddess would let one of her best warriors travel too far afield.
Apollo laughed. “She’s still nursing a broken heart over your shared lover boy. But I think she’s more mad that he didn’t punch her v-card than anything else.”
My eyebrows hit my hairline. “Wait, what? Paris never—I mean, they never…sealed the deal?”
Apollo chucked me under the chin. “Artemis talked a big game, but when it came down to it, my sis still couldn’t give it up. Her prudery knows no bounds. Oh, the shame of having such a sister.” He put the back of his wrist to his forehead, as if ready to faint.
I’d assumed the entire time that Paris had dallied with Artemis—and I mean dallied. But he hadn’t. It was surprising what a relief that knowledge gave me.
Lilah elbowed Apollo out of the way and gave me a stern look. “Now it’s your turn. Spill.”
They all sat, even Apollo, as I recounted my harrowing tale of the past week. Liatra nodded along, as if this was an old song she knew by heart.
By the end, Lilah’s chin was set in anger, and she was ready to march on Decanum that very instant and take Menelaus’s head.
Liatra smiled and took my hands. “That was an excellent story, I must say. But there were quite a few parts missing.”
Huh? I went back over the events and could only think of a few things, mainly the canoodling with Paris, I’d left out. My color rose. Surely Liatra didn’t want an accounting of those moments? Here, in front of Apollo and Lilah?
Liatra smiled at me. “No, not that. I mean your past as Helen of Troy. You still don’t remember it. But I can give you back the memories Artemis took.”