"Yes, they did. We held court for days on the issue. After an eight to five vote, the Council moved to exterminate those with demon blood. Cross breeds…purebreds. It didn't matter to them. They acted erratically and without plans. Those with demon blood—no matter how small the percentage—were to be put to death."
I dug my fingertips into my palm. "Some of my friends were murdered. Good people. People with less demon blood than I."
"The hunters didn't discriminate. Sons and daughters of high-ranking supernaturals were pulled from their castles and killed. Low-ranking cross breeds were yanked from their homes and shot. Realm guardians were chased down from one realm to the next and eliminated. I wasn't going to sit idle while allowing my legacy to fail, so I sent a soldier after you. Actually, I sent many soldiers after you. You killed many—"
"What was I to do? Turn myself in and be cut to pieces like the rest of the guardians who were caught."
He shook his head. "You didn't even go into hiding like some of the other guardians. I didn't understand it. You kept fighting the demons."
"That's my duty. I fight demons. I keep them out of the realms," I said.
"I knew you weren't going to stop until you got yourself killed or captured, so I made sure that the next few soldiers who went out in search of you had a bottle of Sirix."
"So, you poison your son and lock him away like a rabid monster…" I concluded.
I could tell he was feeling guilty about it all by the look he gave me, so I decided not to press that issue any further. For now.
"Rumors on Bursgate say cross breeds are still being hunted along with the purebreds to this day," I said.
"Not by the dozens. Not anymore," my father replied. "Every time they recruit a new group of demon hunters, they lose more than half of them in the field. And those hunter's souls are compromised forever."
I frowned. "Well, what did the Council think? From the moment a demon infiltrates a realm, they have unlimited access to souls. The more souls they consume, the harder it becomes to kill them. The only way to stop them is to keep the bastards out. Stop them before they ever enter a realm."
"A few members of the Council don't want to admit they were wrong. Stripping the portals of realm guardians strong enough to defend us was stupid. But what choice do we have when we're presented with evidence that the person who betrayed us may have been a realm guardian himself."
"What evidence was that?"
"Whispers around the realms that he was conspiring with a group of witches."
"A group of witches?"
"Not just any group of witches," my father added. "There are reports that the witches were bearing the ancient mark of The Shadows."
"The Shadows? The witch coven that wanted to raise the Demon King centuries earlier?"
"Yes, the same one. And we've also gained information that there's witch out there right now with the power to raise him once again."
I ground my teeth. My mind spun with many questions.
King Zaros crossed the room and walked over to a glass console table against the wall. There was a large mirror right above it, but when I looked in the mirror, I couldn't see my reflection. In fact, I couldn't see any reflection at all.
"My fae, Isadora, left a vision behind for me to show you," he said.
I followed him to the mirror. "A vision?" I asked, frowning.
"Yes. Most of the events have already passed. Isadora has the gift of sight. Past and future."
"I know she is of the Light, but do you trust this fae?"
"I trust what I see." He touched the mirror and recited something in a language I'd never learned. "Brace yourself. The images aren't pretty."
As I looked on in horror through the mirror as hellfire blasted out through several Earth portals destroying everything in its path, my heart stopped. The visions were short and succinct like snapshots from a movie. In the center of it all was some dark, malevolent creature holding a grimoire—a book with an ancient symbol engraved on the front, back, and spine. She was raven-haired with skin the color of smooth toffee, and she was a witch. The only thing the fire didn't touch was her. The only fire that could do the type of damage seen in the vision was hellfire. The same fire that erupted from the volcanos of Bursgate too often.
I tore my gaze away from the mirror. "Is this real?"
"The Grimoire that the witch will use to cast that spell is missing."
"How do you know this is true?"
"She's not the only one having the visions. Queen Palmera has seen the visions too. As the leader on the Council, Palmera wanted to move forward in placing a permanent ban on anyone with demon blood from residing in the United Realms, making it permissible to kill on sight. I think she knew that I had you hidden away on Bursgate. Even though you're my son, she was still very suspicious of you and wondered why I kept you alive. I hope she has children one day. That way she'll know why I did what I did. In either case, since we have leads on who the witch might be, I made a bargain at the Council table."
"What kind of bargain?"
"That I'll prove that my son is innocent and that we'd find the witch," he said.
I shook my head. "There are thousands of witches out there, just like there are thousands of purebred demons."
"Isadora says the witch in her vision is from the Trillium bloodline—distant cousins of the Shadows."
"Oh…" I sunk back in my chair.
My father crossed the room and sat down in his chair. "The visions do align with the prophecy spreading around the Earth realm among the supernaturals there. One that says an evil spirit will unleash hellfire on Earth in an attempt to raise the Demon King."
"And this grimoire she'll use…how did it end up missing?"
Before answering me, he unfolded a scroll of paper, picked up an ink pen, and began writing something on it. "The Trillium witches have been the keepers of 9th Grimoire for almost a millennium. The book had always been hidden on the Earth realm, cloaked with protection spells. But before the Trillium Coven acquired the book, a now-defunct coven of witches used it for ill purposes and guided the realms to wage war, not peace. They served the Demon King. They were called The Shadows. Their ultimate goal was to raise the Demon King so that he may one day be the prime ruler of all the realms."
"And that's when the leaders of the realms fought back and formed the United Realms to stop him," I said.
I knew our history well. I even knew a bit about The Shadows and the Trillium witches. As a warrior, it was our obligation to know who and what we were fighting for and what we were up against.
"Yes. Most of the realms united just to stop him."
"So, they managed to stop the Demon King. What happened to the Grimoire then?" I asked.
"When the last of The Shadows were destroyed, the book fell into the hands of a human scribe. Interestingly enough, he was able to read some of the text, but he didn't have the powers to execute the spells. Years passed, and the book lay dormant in his cottage. Then he met a girl who he shared the book with. She already knew most of the spells from her memory. She was a Trillium witch. Call it fate, I guess, because they fell in love. Eventually, when the secret of using the spells in the Grimoire became too great for her to bear, she took it to her elders where it remained under lock and key for the next few decades. Nothing transpired during that time. Not a peep from Blackwald about the Demon King."
"And then one of the portals was ripped wide open," I said.
"Yes. After the first wave of the apocalypse, rumors circulated that the Grimoire had disappeared yet again and that it was no longer in possession of the Trillium witches. It's lost, which is probably why the Demon King is still stuck in Blackwald. Yet, the visions are clear. Someone or something will find the Grimoire."
"So, then the book needs to be destroyed so it can't be used?"
"The book cannot be destroyed. It's been tried before. If used for ill purposes, the spells in that Grimoire have the power to lay waste to entire continents in a matter of
hours, let alone raise a disastrous, malevolent king from his grave. If it ends up in the wrong hands and on the wrong realm…"
I sat down. At this point, my head spun worse than when the poison was in my system. I rubbed my forehead and then said, "But these witches had the Grimoire before. They must have memorized all the spells. If they were going to destroy the world and raise the Demon King, why haven't they done it?"
"The Grimoire grows stronger every time someone uses it. The spells are written in the book linearly, but when re-opened, the text inside appears in riddles. A witch must solve the riddle to execute the spell," he explained.
"Sounds hella confusing just talking about it," I replied.
"And from the way Isadora explained it to me, the spells in the Grimoire are complicated to master. Casting the most powerful spells requires the right amount of magic and power. The witch's craft must be honed. Knowledge and memory passed down from generation to generation until finally, only one witch has to solve the riddle to complete a spell successfully. Once the spell is learned, that memory then passes onto the next generation in the hopes that they're strong enough to decipher the text. And there's a witch out there with the power to cast such a spell."
I leaned back and tapped my fingers on the arm of the chair, finally getting a moment to put all the puzzle pieces together.
My father handed me the paper that he was writing on earlier. "Leona Thévenet is her name. These are the coordinates pointing to where she was last seen."
"I do not track witches. I track demons," I told him.
"It has to be you, son. I can't trust anyone else with this mission," he pleaded. "I told Palmera it would be you and she agreed to let us in Bursgate so we could get you out. Your realm guardian access has been restored."
"Why not send one or your soldiers out to go get her?"
"I don't just want you to go get her. I need the book in my hands before I need her dead," my father said.
I frowned. "You need her dead…?"
"After she leads us to the book, yes, but timing is of essence. You know the Earth realm better than anyone I know and your demon blood and realm guardian access will allow you to—"
I rose from my chair. "No! I know where this is going. I won't hunt and kill a witch and then steal her book."
My father's eyes widened. "Then you wish to see her unleash hellfire and raise the devil himself?"
"As I said, get one of your soldiers to do it. They were strong enough to drag me here, weren't they? They were fearless and loyal enough to enter Bursgate for you. Let them do it."
"You're the only one I trust to do it. I told the Council it would be done."
"What about doing it yourself?" I countered.
"Look at me. Do you mock me? My demon fighting days are over, son."
I threw my hands up. "I knew this was a trap."
"No one is trying to trap you."
"You brought me off of Bursgate for your gain, not mine," I countered.
"No, that's not true. I would've gotten you from that realm anyway." He cleared his throat. "This is just less violent. And it ensures that our people and our future families would still have a place in the United Realms. I would have declared war to move to get you out of there, but there's a better way now. Don't make me murder everyone on the entire Council to reverse the hunt on Cross breeds, because you know I will. If they think they know betrayal, they haven't seen anything yet. Don't make me be that father."
I swallowed but said nothing. There was no denying. I knew he loved me as his son, but his way of showing it had always been different. I understood him, in a sense, when my other brothers had failed to comprehend his reasons.
"I want my son alive, not hunted to death," he added. "We are Dragoe and we will be here until the end of time."
"You have more sons to carry on your legacy. You have a fae waiting in your chambers who'll probably give you more offspring at the drop of a coin. I'm not your puppet, father."
He frowned. "You're a Prince by blood. You're the only one strong enough to do this. You were a realm guardian once. Isn't this what you're supposed to do?"
"Guard realms, yes. Kill witches and steal books, no."
"There's a witch out there right now conspiring to secure the Grimoire for her ill-fated purposes. You can patrol and protect our realms once again. You can keep that from happening."
I looked down at the carpet and then at the sphere tattoo on my wrist. My breathing came in hard spurts as I was pulled in different directions.
"Bursgate probably wasn't the best place to put you, but I put you there to keep you away from the murdering sprees," he continued. "I can't bring the dead back to life, son. But I'll have the power to lift any sanction…any ruling…any previous Council vote. If you do this…if you find this witch, the Council will listen to me and I will restore the integrity of the realm guardians as they once were. And you can continue putting the Blackwald demons back where they belong—in Hell."
I looked down at the coordinates on the paper and then thrust the thing right back at him and said, "I'll need your word on this paper. If I do this thing…kill the witch and bring you the Grimoire, you will honor your word. Write it."
King Zaros took and paper and picked up his pen. While he was writing, he said, "You'll go immediately to the Earth realm and do this. You'll tell no one what you're doing and why you're there. And beware the witch. Use your charm to entice, but don't underestimate her power. With or without that Grimoire, a witch with Shadows ancestry can turn any dragon to stone. I've heard the rumors about you, son. You could entice the panties right off any woman, mortal or immortal. Use it to your benefit."
"I'm not that man anymore, Father."
"You need to be that man on this mission."
Chapter 8
Carrick
I looked back at my reflection in the mirror of the cheap motel. It was a sight I hadn't seen this clear in a long time. My hair had grown about three inches past my shoulders. After a haircut and a shave, I almost didn't remember my own face. After taking a quick shower and shave, I collected the tray of food I got from the diner across the street and began stuffing my face.
Night had already fallen, and even though it was the most dangerous time to go out, it was also the best time to catch up on what was going on in the realms. My blades had already been sharpened so I was ready in the event that any hunters or demons would jump me.
I wasn't hell-bent on going out and slaying demons at the moment. First, I needed to stop the witch that my father claimed had an interest in letting the creatures out. Depending on how vulnerable she was, it'd probably be much easier if I just charmed the young witch quickly. But there was no telling how cruel she might be or what evil forces she had in her arsenal, so I had to save my energy. I didn't want any hexes placed on me and I certainly didn't want to be turned to stone.
I pulled out the piece of paper my father had written his promise on and placed it on the desk where I was eating. My gaze danced across the name of the witch several times, wondering why something seemed so familiar about it.
Leona Thévenet.
The location of where the witch was last spotted was just a few miles outside of the city of Natchez near a bus stop. I didn't expect that she would still be lingering around in the area, but I had gone anyway. Maybe it was luck, but I found a single gray scarf wrapped around some weeds, flapping the breeze. It had been handmade with a single flower resembling a Trillium stitched in one corner of it. I had found my witch, but it seemed that she was already one step ahead of me. As soon as I was done with her, I'd have what I wanted once King Zaros delivered on his promise. True freedom and the right to defend the United Realms, despite the circumstances under which I was born.
My journey had already begun…
Chapter 9
Carrick
I pushed my way through the crowded bar & diner, a hole-in-the-wall just outside of the borders of an unprotected town. The scent of sweat-dampened bodies
and sex hung over me like a dark cloud. Thick smoke wafted around me. Scantily-clad women of all species swayed and frolicked about on the dance floor. Numerous men were posted up on the wall or seated in booths eyeing the exorbitant amounts of lithe flesh on display. The last time I was here, I'd never recalled the atmosphere being this raunchy.
I managed to blend in with my surroundings, keeping my head low and the collar of my trench coat pulled up so as not to expose my markings or give off any bad vibes. I spotted an empty seat at the bar and scrolled across the room to take it. The guy to the right of me smelled of green earth and swamp water. He gave off a strong animalistic vibe. When he rose his gaze to acknowledge me, his eyes gleamed a golden bronze color. The tattoos trailing out from his shirt and up along his neck reminded me of the markings I used to see on some of the lycan clans. They were always adding or manipulating their tattoos based on whose Pack they belonged to or where they lived, so I wasn't sure. His trousers and shirt were even torn like he didn't give a damn one way or another. That was a good sign at least. If there was one lycan in the bar, there were probably more hiding in plain sight.
"Howdy," he said and shifted his gaze away.
I gave a short nod to return the greeting.
He turned his attention back to news broadcast on the television, and I gave my attention to the commotion around me.
Even though there was a wild party going on, and even with all the screeching loud rock music and shouting above the noise, I was attracting attention from the patrons in the bar area. All of their faces were unfamiliar to me. Even the bartender and the servers working the floor looked odd.
A woman stumbled against me but before her stilettos gave out from under her, she slipped into the empty seat next to me. She slammed her beer on the counter and some of it sloshed over the rim.
"Oh sorry, dude…thought you were someone else."
Renegade (Shadow Realms): An Urban Fantasy Dragon Shifter Romance Page 4