Rune King's Daughter

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Rune King's Daughter Page 13

by Amelia Wilson


  They’re out, he told his Chosen. The coast should be clear.

  ***

  The building had been built directly over a node in the magical confluence. No doubt the intention had been for the inhabitants to gain power from the nearness of the ley line, but it actually just made them easier to find.

  Nika and Ingrid emerged from the ley line in the center of the first-floor office. She spoke to Erik through their bond. We’re inside.

  She could hear his voice throbbing with adrenaline. Stay safe. Good luck.

  The sound of gunfire was loud outside the house, and Ingrid grimaced. “It sounds like a war zone.”

  “That’s because it is. Come on.”

  They left the office and crept toward the stairs leading to the upper levels. There were voices in the corridor approaching them, and Nika pushed Ingrid into a broom closet. The clatter of soldiers passing grew louder, then faded as the group of armed defenders hurried by. When the noises had ceased, Nika opened the door cautiously.

  A man in a three-piece suit stood in front of them, facing the closet door with a pistol in his hand. Derek Dupin pointed his gun at Nika’s face.

  “Rune Master,” he growled. “You are not welcome here. How did you get in? You weren’t invited.”

  Ingrid pushed Nika back. “I brought her through the ley lines. There are no thresholds there and your invitation wards don’t protect you against Valtaeigr.”

  He chuckled mirthlessly. “More magic. I’m growing sick of magic.”

  “Then why did you marry a Dark Sister?” Nika asked. “You’re her pawn, you know. She’s enchanted you.”

  “Lies.”

  “Are you sure?” Nika asked. “I think that if you were really certain, you would have shot by now.”

  Mia appeared on the stairs, descending slowly in her bare feet, her pale face dotted with the sweat of her turning. She glared at the two women in the hallway.

  “Bring them to me,” she ordered Dupin. “The old one first.”

  Nika looked at Ingrid and shook her head. Ingrid nodded. She retreated back into the closet.

  “What are you doing, you old hag?” Mia demanded. Nika could feel her calling on her magic, but the power sputtered and sparked around her hand like a car engine that wouldn’t start. She shook the useless energy off in annoyance.

  Nika raised an eyebrow. “Problem?”

  “Derek,” the Dark Sister snapped. “Bring them!”

  The Paris chieftain stepped forward menacingly, and Ingrid disappeared into the ley lines. Nika raised her hands and shot rune fire at him, but he dodged out of the way. A section of the wall behind him cracked and began to smoke.

  Mia pointed at Nika and shouted words of magic. Her fingertips blurred for the briefest of moments, and then all of her power evaporated, sparking around her once again. She cursed and fled up the stairs. Derek covered her escape, drawing a long cavalry saber from a sheath at his waist. He held it up.

  “Come on, Rune Master,” he said. “Show me what you have.”

  She squared her shoulders. “Don’t make me kill you, Dupin,” she warned. “I’ll do it. Mia is dead already. She’s got no magic left, and Erik is here to kill her. Don’t sacrifice yourself for her. She isn’t worth it.”

  One corner of his mouth drew up in a sardonic smirk. “If she is dead, then I have nothing left to live for.” He swung the saber, and Nika ducked. The blade caught her ponytail and a handful of chopped red hairs fell to the floor around her.

  “Bastard,” she swore, backpedaling. She came up with both hands glowing, and a stream of runes flew out of her palms, hot and whistling through the air. He dodged to the side, and another wall took damage.

  A burst of machine gun fire ripped through the air. The fight was just outside the door. ‘

  “Hear that?” she mocked. “That’s Erik, coming to finish her.”

  “That’s my men defending me. We outnumber your Huntsman and his friends.”

  He charged her, his saber swinging wildly. She ducked underneath his arm and grabbed his chest as she went by, pumping runes and lightning into him. Derek stiffened and screamed, then burst into flame from the inside out. In less than a heartbeat, he was gone, leaving only a pile of gray ashes on the floor.

  Nika didn’t take time to relish her victory. She took up his saber and went up the stairs, two at a time.

  ***

  The estate’s defenders were putting up a stronger defense than Erik would have anticipated. They fought like true believers, not like hired thugs. He wondered what promised they’d been made that had secured such devotion.

  Ultimately, it didn’t really matter. Devoted or not, they would be dying all the same.

  He was sheltering behind a stone pillar on the front portico. Lena trotted to him, her mouth and chin red with someone else’s blood. “There are more in the back.”

  “How many more?” A burst of gunfire made the pillar erupt in a shower of splintered rock and dust, and he turned away to protect his face. Lena threw her arm up over her own eyes and came away speckled with tiny cuts that healed almost as soon as they appeared.

  “Twenty, maybe thirty,” she reported.

  Down the porch, hiding behind another pillar, Moselle was crouching, her borrowed pistol in her hands. He had not seen her fire a single shot.

  “Take her with you,” he said, gesturing with his chin toward the former chieftain of Paris.

  Lena scoffed. “Really? Are you trying to get me killed?”

  “I didn’t say defend her. Either she fights for her land or she dies.” Loudly, he said, “Moselle! Moment of truth! Go with Lena to the garden and prove you want Paris!”

  She turned an angry look toward him but held her silence. He stepped out from behind his pillar and returned fire, covering for Lena and Moselle as they moved out. He heard a loud laugh from the other side of the lawn as one of the defenders took the opportunity to mock him.

  “Missed me!” the man shouted in French.

  Erik got a glimpse of the man’s head. He was a human, but with augmented abilities. A Draugr pet, no doubt, someone that Derek had been feeding vampire blood to keep him living and enhanced. Erik fired once and caught him in the forehead, splitting his skull. The man’s body dropped.

  “Not that time,” he said.

  He could feel energy pass by under his feet, something that he’d never felt before. He sidestepped, startled by the feeling, almost expecting to see the ground bubbling with the passage of some great monster. Nothing happened physically, and he shook his head.

  Nika, he called. Are you all right?

  Fine. He could feel her running. I killed Dupin.

  He smiled in grim satisfaction. Excellent. Mia?

  Nika’s voice was firm and pitiless in his mind. She’s next.

  ***

  Ingrid surged through the ley lines. She normally the eldritch conduits only for travel, but today she needed more. She swept through the lines, gathering in as much power as she could hold. Her passage was fast, and she was unprepared for an obstacle.

  Someone else was traveling the lines, and they collided with a stunning crash that sent them both spinning backward down the paths they had been taking. Ingrid recovered her senses and reached out to identify who or what she had encountered.

  The witch hunter Vladimir was in the lines, and she could feel his anger at her inadvertent interruption. A surge of fire blasted down the conduit, and she leaped out of the ley line to avoid it. She found herself in the catacombs of Paris, an unpleasant enough place that was nevertheless better than being dead. Vladimir had struck to kill.

  She ducked back down into the ley line. Vladimir had rushed past her position and was heading at full speed toward the fight. Ingrid followed him, sucking in power as she went. The Russian witch hunter was doing the same, and the lines were dim from their dual assault. The node beneath Dupin’s estate was just ahead, and she saw it flare as Vladimir shot through it.

  She followed him just a momen
t behind.

  ***

  Nika reached the top of the stairs just in time to see Mia disappear into one of the rooms, the door slamming shut behind her. She increased her speed and burst through the door, her Draugr strength giving her all the impetus she needed to disregard the flimsy barrier.

  Mia spun to face her, her brand-new fangs extended as she hissed. She stepped into the center of a magical circle drawn onto the floor. There was no response from the circle, not even a shimmer acknowledging that she had stepped inside. Nika shook her head.

  “Give it up, Mia. Your powers have deserted you.”

  The Dark Sister picked up a ceremonial dagger. “I will never surrender to you.”

  “Maybe not, but you’re done all the same.”

  As Nika spoke, she felt the ley line node shift twice. She could sense two new magical presences, and she could identify Ingrid immediately. The other felt familiar, and she could guess who it might have been.

  Mia took advantage of Nika’s distraction and launched herself at her, tackling her to the floor. She tried to seize her throat in her teeth, but Nika wrenched herself out of the way, leaving Mia with a mouth full of her shoulder instead. Blood flowed, and Mia drank greedily. Nika gloved her hand in magic and pressed it against the Dark Sister’s forehead, where it steamed and sizzled. Mia released her with a shriek and backed away, a hand-shaped burn on her face.

  Vladimir burst through the remnants of the door, his face grim. Ingrid was right behind him. Nika pointed at him, her hand glowing.

  “Stop right there!” she commanded. “Ingrid, hold him!”

  The elder Valtaeigr wrapped him in silvery threads of energy and slowed his progress into the room. The Russian snarled at her. “Release me, bitch!”

  “No. This one isn’t yours.”

  Mia was backing away, fear in her eyes. She looked around the room frantically, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon. Nika stalked her, keeping her away from the fireplace. She brandished the saber she had taken from Derek’s ashes.

  “You have caused a lot of trouble,” she told Mia. “More trouble than you’re worth. If we were mortals, I’d want to see you behind bars, but since we’re not, there’s only one thing to do.”

  Mia stood tall, her eyes flashing defiantly. “If you’re going to kill me, then kill me. Don’t talk me to death.”

  Nika took a deep breath and drew back the saber. Mia stared at her, unflinching. I can’t do it, she told Erik.

  Through their Chosen bond, she got a rush of activity and anxiety, and she could hear more gunfire in the back garden. He finally responded, What?

  I can’t kill her. I can’t just… murder her.

  He sounded mildly annoyed. Then hold her there until I can reach you. I’m a little busy right now.

  Nika swallowed hard and put the point of the saber against Mia’s throat. “Sit down.”

  “No.”

  There was a sudden tearing sound, and then Vladimir was free. He lunged at Mia and brought her down to the ground, his hands alight with green fire. Nika stepped back, her mind going fuzzy and making her dizzy.

  Mia struggled out of Vladimir’s grasp and flipped them so that she was on top, straddling the Russian’s torso. She bared her new Draugr fangs and struck like a cobra, sinking deep into the witch’s vein. She pulled a mouthful, then spat it out, her lips burning. Vladimir laughed at her.

  “Witches are poison to vampires,” he said.

  She grabbed his head and tried to twist it, but a silver net of energy cast by Ingrid descended over them both, stilling their combat and holding them in place.

  The older Valtaeigr came to Nika’s side and pressed a finger to her forehead. The fuzziness in her head vanished with a snap, and her field of vision filled with the image of shattering green glass.

  “Enchantment,” Ingrid explained. “You’ve had it on you for a while.”

  Nika thought back to the shock when Vladimir had touched her in Erik’s office. “Clever.”

  Running feet approached, coming up the stairs and down the corridor. Erik burst into the room, his rifle in his hands, his eyes wild. He saw the net and stopped, looking at Nika and Ingrid.

  “You’re all right?” he asked.

  His mother nodded. “Fine.”

  Erik walked closer to the two figures trapped beneath the magical net. “Mia,” he said softly.

  She turned and hissed at him, her eyes burning red. “Huntsman. Come to play?”

  “You hate me,” he said.

  His daughter ground her teeth, her long fangs flashing. “I would kill you if I could.”

  He sighed and shot her, putting a silver bullet into her brainpan. She dissolved into dust, coating the infuriated Russian witch hunter.

  “She was my kill!” Vladimir protested. “Mine! You had no right!”

  Erik lowered his gun and ignored him. He turned to his female companions.

  “The fight is over. The others have left. The mortal authorities are on their way, and we have to get out of here, now.” He looked back at Vladimir. “Leave him here.”

  Ingrid whispered words of magic, and the net constricted, then vanished. By the time it had fully disappeared, the witch hunter was insensible, rendered unconscious by her power.

  Nika shook her head. “I have so much to learn.”

  “Indeed you do.” Ingrid linked arms with the two of them. “But first, let’s get back to Stockholm.”

  She took them into the ley lines and left the carnage behind.

  Epilogue

  The wedding was on a glorious summer day in Uppsala. They both underwent a ritual bath meant to wash away their unmarried selves and prepare them for their new existence. In the absence of family, Nika was attended by Tamara and Elke. Erik stood alone, but he carried Gunnar’s sword.

  Ingrid spoke to her as they approached the hill where the ancient shrine had stood. “Normally, you would have your father’s sword with you. When Erik gives you his sword, you are to hold it in trust for your sons, and give your father’s sword to him to take the place of the one he’s giving up for you. Since you won’t have any sons, the sword will be yours.”

  Nika adjusted the bridal crown that Elke had given her, an elaborate thing made of braided gold. It was heavy, but at least it wasn’t made of wheat like it would have been in the old days. She wouldn’t have enjoyed wearing cereal grains to her wedding.

  “I don’t have a sword,” she said.

  Tamara stepped up to her with a wrapped bundle. “Yes, you do.”

  Nika took the bundle from her and pulled away the cloth. Inside was the Rune Sword, the one that had brought the two of them together at the very beginning.

  “Oh my God,” she breathed. “How did you get this out of the museum?”

  Elke smiled. “I know a werewolf with excellent thieving abilities.”

  They went to the ritual space, where Erik stood in a scarlet tunic and black leather pants. His black boots reached to his knees, and a golden torc adorned his neck. She had never seen a more beautiful man, and he took her breath away.

  When he turned to look at her, in her embroidered white gown and with the bridal crown upon her head, he smiled, his eyes aglow. He looked at her as if she was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen. She smiled back at him.

  Nika walked to him, passing through a crowd of Draugr and Ulfen and faery who had come to see the Rune King’s wedding. Her eyes never left his face, and his gaze at her never wavered. Despite the hundreds of attendants, she felt as if they were alone in this moment.

  Ingrid said prayers to the old gods, and they exchanged the swords. She could see the moment that Erik recognized the Rune Sword, and he blinked in surprise. She nodded to him with a silent smile, and he happily exchanged his sword for hers.

  There were more prayers, then gold rings for them both, and then Ingrid bound their hands with a golden cord. She intoned words of ancient Norse that Nika did not know, but their import was clear. It was a blessing, and i
t was most welcome.

  Ingrid smiled at them. “I now pronounce you man and wife.”

  Erik gently squeezed her hands and pulled her closer, and she leaned into him. In the brilliant sunlight of midday, they kissed, and then Erik looked at her with eyes shining with unshed tears.

  He whispered to her. “Welcome to forever.”

  THE END

  About The Author

  Amelia Wilson has dedicated her life to writing. She is a firm believer in the power of love to conquer all, and her works reflect this belief. Her paranormal romances are known for their love stories, action and suspense. She creates immersive worlds that are rich in detail and full of emotion.

  Amelia can be contacted at her Facebook page or through her newsletter.

  http://www.ameliawilsonauthor.com/

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