Ezra glanced at me.
I was already sniffing the air heavily, catching the currents of his words. “Truth to all.”
My husband gazed ahead then shrugged a shoulder. “We’d better hurry.”
With his back to us, his long legs taking him through the forest at a fast clip, Tipkin threw his hands up in the air. “That’s what I’ve been saying!”
Hunkered behind brush, downwind from the scents of Com blood floating in the air, I pointed my gun where we had spied Philip Masterson high in a tree, his own silver arrows aimed. He appeared to be waiting as he watched the horde of Coms surrounding Ezra and his Prodigy. My past self hadn’t yet arrived to the scene.
“With this new surprise,” I whispered, not sure what I thought about this dangerous aspect, “that hybrid Mages can travel back in time, I bet he’s how the Coms knew who the next Prodigy was. He could have traveled into the past and told them.”
I knew what I was waiting for. In the past, there had been two arrows that had hit us. Now I knew where they had come from. We could not alter time, so we had to wait for him to fire two before we attacked.
Ezra grunted. “It makes sense. Only two people know how to do the spell to find the Prodigies. Elder Harcourt and Elder Farrar. The spell is protected that way. And we already know they were questioned. Though Philip could have found out later who she was if he had any contacts inside King Cave.”
Where our Prodigies now stayed for their own protection.
That didn’t give me warm and fuzzy feelings. “We’ll need to move them when we get back.”
Ezra’s Vampire growled in confirmation.
Ten minutes later, Philip fired his first arrow.
Ezra and I held our aim on Philip.
Tipkin put on gloves and notched a silver arrow on his bow, targeting our prey.
Philip’s second arrow fired.
Ezra and I pulled the triggers on our guns.
But…nothing happened. Just an empty click.
I blinked, gaping at my gun.
Ezra’s dumbfounded gaze was the same as mine.
Just as Philip was taking aim again, Tipkin’s arrow flew, piercing through the air like a bullet. It hit Philip square in the stomach, shocking him. His pained shout could not be heard over the gunfire, but we watched as his jaw dropped and his features contorted in agony. He lost his footing on the branch and tipped backward. His mouth was open in a scream as he released his weapons and grabbed the end of the arrow jutting from his stomach. At the last second before hitting the ground in a death fall, he jerked the arrow from his body and tossed it aside…and disappeared in a flash of gold.
My wolf growled furiously. “Where the fuck did he go?”
“Our next destination,” Tipkin replied, standing from his crouch and stretching. Staring up at the sky, he pulled a flask from one of his cloak’s pockets. I blinked as he proceeded to down a few swills of what smelled like whiskey. Just as easily, he capped it and put the flask back into his pocket — like this was just an average day out with friends.
What the hell?
Ezra’s nostrils flared. “Why the fuck didn’t our guns work?”
Tipkin shrugged. “If a weapon’s made after this time period, they won’t work.”
Ezra’s Vampire growled quietly. “Why didn’t you tell us before?”
Our guns were the newest models.
“Eh, now you know,” Tipkin stated cheerfully, taking off his gloves and stuffing them into his right cloak pocket. He extended a hand to each of us. “Let’s go. I don’t know the layout of King Hall like you two do. There were Mys all over the place on graduation day. I’ll need your memories to help find him. I won’t be able to sniff him out as easily as I did this time.”
My wolf huffed. “You need to tell us shit like that, so we don’t get killed!”
Golden eyes stared down at me, a seriousness entering them. “I just did. When you needed to know.” He jerked his hands at us. “Are you coming? Or are you staying in the past?”
Chapter Seventeen
We hung on for dear life for two more rough trips in Tipkin’s sphere: one to take us to the forest surrounding King Hall in the present — that was filled with the scents of decay — and the second trip to go back in time where we landed in the same forest…but it was different.
It was graduation day. Before it had become a war zone.
The sun was shining, and there was music blaring in the distance.
The sweet aroma of the buffet foods tickled my nose.
When my stomach growled, Ezra glanced at me.
I scrunched my nose. “The brownies were really good that day.”
His lips twitched. “Yes, they were.”
Tipkin waved in agitation. “Don’t even think about it.” He stared pointedly. “Now, where would Philip target the Elders, Kings, or Prodigies? He knows where to get weapons in this time, since he started the damn war. Was there a point during graduation that the Rulers were alone? Possibly defenseless?”
My brows puckered as I thought through that day.
But Ezra instantly nodded. “All of the Rulers here were defenseless at one point.”
My gaze snapped to his. “When?”
“When the bombs went off. We were inside Mrs Jonas’s office. All the Rulers were laid flat from the direct hit, their mates dying, and from the smoke.”
Tipkin jerked, and his head instantly dropped. His eyes glowed a brilliant gold, coloring the grass. He started swaying like he was hearing a song we couldn’t hear, the country music we could hear in the distance not the beat he was moving to.
He was a Mage right now, seeing whatever he saw inside his magic.
Ezra and I stayed quiet, but we moved on either side of him, just in case he tipped too far.
Tipkin was our ticket out of here.
There was no way we were going to let him be harmed — even from himself.
Two minutes later, Tipkin began a mournful tune deep in his chest, humming in sporadic sounds. My own brows puckered when I recognized the song. It was one that I had heard almost every night as a child. When Antonio wasn’t telling me stories before bed, it was a song my mother used to softly sing to me that lulled me to sleep.
My gaze was caught on Tipkin’s when he snapped out of his trance.
He rubbed his eyes for a moment before he stared at me. His entire flamboyant act was gone, his words gentle. “I’ll tell you. It is in the past that won’t be changed, so I’m not breaking any rules.” He gently smiled. “Elder Harcourt spoke with your mother. He knew she would die, and told her so. He helped to guide her thoughts on where you should be placed after her death. She was grateful, but she was confused because Elder Harcourt said your uncle’s home should be your destination. He assured her nothing bad would happen to you…in a beautiful twist of words that spoke truth. She thought you would be safe there. All he asked in payment for his ‘guidance’ was that she send a letter to you on your graduation day — one that your uncle must deliver.”
My brows snapped together, but he held up a quick hand.
Tipkin clarified, “Elder Harcourt did it for a purpose. He knows the future. He knew that if you didn’t have a way to breathe inside Mrs Jonas’s office — the one that he had spelled for protection — that you all would have died from smoke inhalation. It was to be. You were supposed to kill your uncle that day — this day — and send him through that window. It was a way for the smoke to escape.” His golden eyes were unusually soft, his words a whisper. “Even if your life with your uncle was far from ideal, Elder Harcourt does have his reasons. He saved all of your lives this day by sending you to that man’s home.”
My jaw was slack, but I muttered, “I still want to kill the bastard.”
Tipkin’s lips turned up. “Good luck finding him. He only appears when he wishes.”
“So we have heard,” Ezra growled. His jaw ground back and forth as he stared off into the forest toward King Hall. “I still think that would be the t
ime Philip would attack. Elder Harcourt fixed one problem, but we were still incapacitated for a short time while the smoke left the room.” He shook his head, deep in thought. “He wouldn’t attack from the outside either. There were guards out there. He would transverse inside the building and attack from there.”
Ezra hummed quietly. “If I were him, with his knowledge of the past, I would wait for just the right moment to toss a bomb inside through the doorway. Before the ceiling collapsed in the hall.” He blinked, then he glanced at Tipkin. “Wait, you stated Elder Harcourt spelled her office?”
I grumbled to no one, “I knew that damn room was spelled.”
“Yes, he spelled it.” Tipkin tapped his temple. “I saw him do it. The only access points he allowed were the one window and the doorway. So your theory still works. He could toss some type of explosive weapon inside from the hallway.”
All three of us heard the music stop, the last song played.
It was time to go.
Ezra and I had procured working guns from two snoozing-on-the-job Mys guards.
They weren’t filled with silver bullets, but they would definitely stop Philip.
Ezra and I snuck into the building — pretending to be our selves of that time, the black cloaks almost identical to our black Awakening robes we had worn — and we secreted ourselves down the hallway from Mrs Jonas’s office, to another administrative room. Tipkin transversed directly after the five minutes allotted to find a suitable hiding place. Leaving the door to our room cracked open, we had a perfect angle to see down the hallway to Mrs Jonas’s office.
I silently prayed that by the time Philip showed up the scent of warfare would be too heavy in the air to smell us. There had been three explosions before the fourth had taken down the administration building. Hopefully that was enough chaos and blood to hide our scents.
Ezra twitched when the Rulers and parents began pouring into Mrs Jonas’s office.
His mother.
We could see Vivian plain as day from our hiding spot. She was smiling like the proud mother she was…with the Ezra of the past by her side, his arm over her shoulders and teasing her. Cahal walked behind them, smiling privately as he watched them…until his brows puckered and his head cocked. He glanced down the hallway in our direction.
Ezra and I froze.
Tipkin cleared his throat and asked gruffly, loudly, “Can’t you two get anything right? The ceremony is starting soon. You need to have your staff finish cleaning up the buffet tables.”
Cahal blinked, staring.
A small blessing occurred when Vivian called his name from inside the office.
He rubbed his chin and glanced in our direction.
But a moment later he disappeared inside Mrs Jonas’s office.
I swallowed heavily then whispered on the barest breath, “Maybe we should jump out the window for a few minutes until Elder Kincaid — King Kincaid, whatever — goes inside. He’ll scent us and wonder what the hell is going on. Tipkin can stay here. No one knows his scent.”
Ezra nodded slowly, barely taking his eyes away where his mother had entered the room.
We hopped out a window and stayed there, waiting for Tipkin to give us the all clear.
There were ten grueling minutes where Ezra and I had to pretend to be our past selves to any circling guards, and then we climbed back to our hiding spots inside the building. It was directly before we heard a gunshot from Mrs Jonas’s office — when I had shot my uncle. The timing could not have been better.
I would like to say that I waited patiently for the fucker Philip to arrive. But I did not.
I seriously hoped today would be the day he died.
My foot wanted to tap in anticipation so badly, but I pressed my body to hold still, working on sheer willpower alone. But the smile that etched my lips was danger peeking, and I glanced at the men sitting on either side of me. I whispered, “Philip’s always had a king complex, and this is King Hall. If he dies here today, it would be the perfect tomb for a wannabe king. One of his own making.” My grin widened. “King Tomb.”
Ezra chuckled softly. “That’s perfect.”
I shrugged a shoulder. “I thought so.”
Ezra’s lips twitched.
My brows puckered. “What?”
He actually patted the top of my head.
Like I was a cute five-year-old instead of a fully grown woman holding a gun.
I bared my teeth, but I remained mute of any further comment.
In the silence, we waited.
Just when I became antsy again, two explosions shook the building.
And we saw him creep around the corner of the long hallway.
The three of us lifted to our feet.
I had a gun aimed, as did Ezra.
Tipkin’s hands were free so he could transverse us out of here before the rubble took us.
Ever so slowly, we stalked to the cracked door.
Philip was removing a backpack he wore. He silently unzipped it.
Ezra had been right. There was a bomb inside that he was activating.
The third explosion shook the building beneath our feet.
Still, we waited as he was. He wasn’t advancing on the room yet, just tapping his foot.
I knew there hadn’t been any gunshots inside the building before it had gone down.
Time ticked ever so gradually while I breathed steadily. My veins were as cold as ice as I watched Philip, his shirt still streaked in his blood from Tipkin’s arrow. That bit of blood made my wolf extremely happy, while the woman in me wanted there to be much more by the time we were through.
His foot stopped tapping, and he turned, running straight for the room, his eyes glowing.
All three of us raced from the room.
Ezra and I were right next to each other, with Tipkin directly on our heels; his hands were already on our shoulders, linking us to him.
Seeing us, Philip stumbled in his sprint, coming to an abrupt halt.
From inside the office, Antonio shouted, “Wait! One more! Get down!”
Just as the last explosion hit, we fired.
My shot went wide, my balance off from the blast that hit the building.
But Ezra’s aim was true. His bullet pierced Philip right through the chest.
Tipkin glowed a brilliant gold.
As his sphere began to engulf us, we watched as Philip flew back.
The ceiling was already crashing down. It was beautiful.
Still grinning like a fiend, even with dust covering me, I didn’t care that I was knocked over by Elder Jacobs’s power of wind when we transversed back to the present. Staring at the shimmering night sky, I shouted a whooping holler and wiggled on the grass where I lay on my back. Tipkin had brought us to the time directly after we had left. Cahal and Elder Merrick’s predators were even still growling, only abruptly cutting off as they stared at the three of us on the ground.
Tipkin’s head rested on my stomach. He chuckled quietly. “Bye-bye.” He disappeared.
Ezra grunted, then he tilted his head toward me. “He’s dead.”
“Mm-hmm,” I hummed happily. “You took that bastard down!”
His lips slowly curved in a wicked smile. “Yes, I did.”
I lifted a finger. “Don’t forget. I did help.” Ezra would not have gone with Tipkin if I had not given my word to go. I made a fist. “King Tomb, baby!”
His gaze twinkled as he fist-bumped me. “King Tomb.”
Antonio cleared his throat. “What just happened? Who’s dead?”
I wiggled again, then I shouted in glee, “Philip Masterson is dead!”
Chapter Eighteen
Ezra and I sat across from our best friends.
When we had initially seen them, we had hardly recognized them.
It had been so damn hard not to react at first sight, but I was now different.
As was Ezra.
He and I were ruthless. And cold. In public.
In private…not so much.
Mmm.
We had assembled in a meeting at King Mile with Antonio, Cahal, Elder Merrick, Elder Jacobs, the four Elders who had created the peace treaty after the first war…and Jack and Pearl.
Ezra and I had explained what had happened in our blast to the past.
The decision had been unanimous.
With the last Beast farm taken out, and our new intel, we knew how to end this war.
The spelled letters were already sent worldwide to the other Elders of our game plan.
Elder fucking Harcourt’s own personal letter to us had arrived just after we had decided as a group. His correspondence had stated that he agreed with our decision. I had torn up his letter in the hope that he would arrive to vindicate the action, but not surprisingly, the old Mage had not shown so that I could strangle him.
And slice him.
And burn him.
And let my wolf feast on his charred bones.
Jackass.
Now, we still sat in the conference room, having asked Jack and Pearl to stay afterward.
They had politely agreed, utterly no recognition of our lives ‘before’ in their actions.
Their personal physiques did not appear any different; this war had not physically harmed them. But their eyes were those of a cold-blooded killer. For most of the meeting they had been silently eyeballing us, and each other, evaluating with indifference. My heart wanted to break seeing them like this…but I had the cure to fix it fisted in my hand under the table.
Ezra sat next to me, watching them just as coolly as I was. He did not waste time inside this privacy-spelled room. He got straight to the point, watching them where they sat across from us. His words were blunt. “Queen Ruckler and I know that you both had a memory wipe.”
Instantly, they both went still. If it were possible, their eyes turned even more chilling.
My lips pinched. “We know this because the same happened to us.” My gaze flicked back and forth between them. “The four of us…we know each other. The two of you just can’t remember it right now.” I lifted my hand up from under the table, showing them the vials. “Elder Harcourt did this to us, and he’s also gifted us the cure for it. King Zeller and I have already drunk ours. We now have our memories back. Once the two of you drink yours, the spell that Elder Harcourt originally enacted will be broken.”
King Tomb (Forever Evermore) Page 25