TravelersKiss

by Sherri L. King

  Dazed, Raine blinked sand from her eyes, confused for a second before realizing they hadn’t seen Daemon turn the Worm to dust. They believed he had destroyed it, as Tryton would have done—by pulling out the water from its cells. They assumed Daemon was Tryton. For once she was grateful for the pollution in the air that made it difficult for them to see clearly—they would have quickly noticed their mistake otherwise.

  “My lady Raine.” Another warrior bowed and Raine shifted uncomfortably. Was this how they normally addressed her? Like some sort of noble? She didn’t like it, how it made her feel separate from them. Different.

  “My lady Raine,” the others echoed and bowed in turn.

  Cheese and rice.

  “Have you the weapon of which you spoke?” the warrior asked.

  Daemon gave her an interested side-eye look.

  Raine nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  “Thank Grimm, that is good news.” The warrior looked her over, clearly searching for the weapon, but when he didn’t see it he didn’t ask any questions. Raine realized it was because he trusted her, had faith in her—and was at once humbled and terrified by this. She vowed to do anything in her power to be worthy of such blind devotion—it was the least she could do. “What may we do to help?”

  “Keep fighting,” she said with a tremulous smile. “Yours is the most important job right now, not mine. Keep the Worms occupied and the Leviathan’s attention engaged. It’s the edge I need.”

  The warrior’s shoulders squared and he nodded solemnly before he and the others gave one last short bow of their heads and marched off.

  “She smiled at me…”

  Raine heard the warrior’s words and felt her cheeks flame hot. Before she could stop herself, she turned and yelled after him, “What is your name?”

  He turned back with a start. “Moros, my lady.”

  “Be safe, Moros.”

  “And you as well.” He blushed, turned on his heel and disappeared into the mist with the rest of his team.

  Daemon squeezed her hand. “You cannot worry for the fate of each and every one of them.”

  Raine shuddered at the chill in his voice. “No, but I can worry over Moros’ fate.” The cacophony had faded for a brief moment, but now it surged loudly again and she winced at the ugliness of it. “Why did we stop here? Let’s keep going.”

  “Not yet.”

  She rounded on him but forgot what she meant to say when, with a roar that deafened her to any other sound, another Worm came charging at them. Daemon turned and positioned himself between her and the beast. He waved his hand and sent it exploding into dust. Raine felt sick, her nerves having run a gamut of emotions too quickly to process—fear, relief, anger and fear again—it was taking its toll on her physically.

  Raine groaned and doubled over, fighting a rising tide of nausea. Her baby kicked and fretted in her womb, clearly as unsettled as she.

  Daemon’s gentle hand on her back surprised her more than anything had so far in this long, crazy day. That it comforted her and calmed her unborn child surprised her further. She took several deep breaths.

  “You will not suffer harm at my side, Raine.”

  She looked up at him, so stunned by his solemn vow that she barely noticed the ground shaking beneath their feet. She straightened and met his gaze. His eyes were glowing like the sun.

  The cord that bound them pulsed with energy—but whose energy, his or hers?

  Daemon laid his hand upon her stomach, just over her womb.

  Her heart lurched.

  He knew about the baby!

  He bent his head and Raine felt the ground shake again. He bent as if to kiss her and she had never known such an immediate fear. But he didn’t kiss her, he did something just as bad—the devil spoke in her ear. “You think I don’t know what you mean to do? Why you need an influx of energy, Raine? I am no fool.”

  Her heart froze, ceasing to beat in its block of ice. “I don’t know what you mean.” She had only told him she needed to gather as much energy as possible to face the Leviathan and bring it down, nothing more.

  “You are a terrible liar. I won’t let you do it.”

  “You can’t stop me—”

  “Oh but I can.” He reached out and touched the cord that bound them. “I forget how young and naive you are, but it is amusing when you remind me.” He strummed the cord, setting it alive with vibrations.

  Raine gasped, her entire body tensing up against her will.

  The child beneath his hand kicked at him playfully.

  “It is time for me to show my hand, Nightingale.” Daemon’s voice was thick with the melody of regret. “My brother comes swiftly. Listen to me now…”

  * * * * *

  Tryton charged across the battlefield with Cady and Obsidian close on his heels.

  “You are certain she didn’t absorb any power when the link was severed?” he asked again—there could be no room for doubt or he would never forgive himself for what he was about to do.

  Obsidian assured him it was so. “What do you think it means?”

  “Nothing good.” Tryton dreaded the possibilities. He felt the presence of his brother like a beacon calling him forth and focused on it to the exclusion of all else, tracking him across the leagues that separated them, knowing Daemon had not come with Raine out of any altruistic bent. He would have an agenda and only Tryton would be able to stop him from seeing it through.

  Damn him. There could be no reprieve this time. One or both of them would die—it was the only way to finally put an end to this feud. Daemon had forced his hand at last. This was the end. One way or another, the war ended this night. Forever.

  Tryton, Obsidian and Cady Traveled most of the distance, following the erratic movement of his brother as Daemon Traveled with Raine in tow until suddenly they stopped. Tryton wondered what devilry his sibling was up to—why would he halt suddenly in the middle of the fighting when he had to know Tryton was coming for him? Tryton must count it a blessing in their favor for now. He didn’t know how else to interpret it.

  He broke into a run, closing the final distance between him and his twin on foot, conserving his energy for the fight that would surely come when he caught up to Daemon. He dodged the groups of battling warriors easily enough. The Cankor Worms were no threat to him, nor was the hulking Leviathan that paid him no mind as he and his two companions passed close enough to feel the fecund heat emanating from the behemoth’s flesh.

  There were good reasons why he was The Elder, oldest of the old, ancient and nigh indestructible. Mysteries swam through his veins; mysteries of such depths even the wisest sage could not plumb them. He could walk amongst their enemies wearing flashing lights and they would never notice him if he didn’t wish it.

  “There, I see her!” Cady cried, pointing.

  “Are you sure?” Obsidian, running at her side, strained to see for himself, but the air was thick and obscured his vision.

  “There’s no mistaking that yellow hair of hers.”

  Tryton saw his brother and tasted defeat like carrion on his tongue.

  The air cleared and Tryton saw Daemon’s hand rest upon Raine’s womb, his palm wide, fingers splayed. He watched as his nefarious twin bent to say something, sprinkling words into her ear and down over her rapt, upturned face.

  The blood in Tryton’s veins caught fire.

  Raine was with child. He could see it in the glow beneath her porcelain skin and in the way Daemon reverently touched her slight form. The rules of the game now seemed clear to Tryton, finally, and he knew he must win no matter the cost.

  If Daemon sought to steal life from Raine, as he had clearly robbed it from Obsidian, he would be formidable. If he stole it from the unborn child of Raine and Grimm’s union in addition to what he’d already taken…there was no measure to how powerful he would become. Such unsullied magic as that sourced from the soul of an unborn babe would make Daemon a god—he would be unstoppable. Tryton had precious little time to i
ntervene.

  “Daemon, unhand her!” he roared.

  His imperious voice echoed throughout the Gray Land, silencing all other noise, the fighting grinding to a halt at once all across the world. Even the Leviathan shifted nervously and held itself still in that tense, baited moment.

  The distance separating him from his twin had never seemed so great though they stood only mere feet away from one another. “Let her go.”

  A rumbling quaked the ground as the Leviathan shook off its inertia.

  Daemon’s eyes narrowed to slits of glittering gold. “I am here at her request.”

  “That’s as may be, but you will take your hands off her womb.”

  “And if I don’t?” Daemon challenged coldly.

  The ground surged beneath their feet.

  Tryton’s heart hardened and he let it, because it was the only way he would be able to see this thing through. “Then you will die.”

  A look Tryton had never thought to see cross his twin’s features again softened Daemon’s hard jaw. It was regret. “In the end, brother, we all die. Even you and I are not immune—nor should we be. I know that now better than most.”

  Tryton fisted his hands at his side, refusing to be swayed from his course. “Daemon, I will not warn you again—”

  “Litha wants Raine’s child, brother.” Daemon’s voice was strange, soft. “She has sensed its existence and made plans of her own—she wants to live again, evict the soul of the infant and have the vessel for her own. Even I am not monster enough to allow that to happen.”

  Tryton was at a loss. He didn’t know how to handle this gentler, humane version of his brother. “Is such a thing possible?”

  “I admit, I may have inspired the idea, only I had Raine in mind for a donor, not an infant.” Daemon shrugged. “Who’s to say it could have worked? I have since changed my mind, of course, after reason cleared my passing madness. However, Litha is far more insane than I am—she will not deviate from her course now that it is set.” He twisted his hand round and round over Raine’s heart.

  Raine’s wide gaze met Daemon’s, eyes turgid with fear and something close to gratitude. She nodded imperceptibly.

  “It will hurt,” Daemon murmured. “Deep breath now.”

  Tryton surged forward. “Don’t!”

  But it was too late. Daemon made a violent wrenching motion and Raine sagged to her knees in the dust, the color leeching from her face. Daemon knelt with her, one hand still resting—protectively—on her womb.

  “What have you done?” Tryton cried, but his words were lost.

  Luminescence exploded from Raine’s form and entered Daemon’s, filling him with light. Sound erupted, deafening them all as the Leviathan flew to overtake them, its great shadow swallowing their forms, the ground opening in ever-widening cracks about their feet, sending all but Daemon stumbling for balance.

  In the last moment before the mountain of flesh and gore and flying tentacles slammed down upon them, Tryton saw the naked truth reflected in Daemon’s eyes…

  I have misjudged him.

  * * * * *

  Suffused with light—Raine’s life force empowering him, so potent and strong—Daemon put his hands on either side of her head and gazed deeply into her eyes. “Stay with me.”

  Raine struggled for breath.

  “I was careful to take energy only from you, Raine. Your child is safe, as I promised, but only if you stay.”

  Raine swallowed, her eyes blinking furiously. He had taken almost everything from her, but she had given it freely, willingly. She accepted that it was the only way he could be strong enough to do what must be done—she’d seen into his heart. She’d seen everything in the final seconds before he’d severed their bond forever.

  He wasn’t evil.

  He was just flawed, the same as she.

  Finally she was able to breathe again, able to feel herself in her own skin. Their bond was broken. She was weak, almost to the point of death, but she was still alive. Her baby was alive and strong and Raine would be strong again too, given time.

  “Raine?”

  She met his gaze and gave him a weak smile. What she’d done had been hard, yes, but what he had to do now was going to be hardest of all. “I’m here, Daemon.”

  He smiled, a real smile, and Raine’s heart wept for him and all he’d suffered. He leaned in, pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and she let him, then he was up and running.

  “No, Daemon, don’t do it! Stop,” Tryton cried, and rushed to intercept his twin…

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Daemon closed his eyes and listened carefully to the Gray Land as it spun in between worlds. He bid it to slow down. He commanded it to slow down. He bid that all the planets slow, that the universe entire slow down.

  The endless march of time crawled and…eventually…halted.

  Daemon, Lord of the Earth, stopped time.

  The Gray Land was silent around him save for the rapid fluttering of a thousand loose thoughts in his head—all lost opportunities he wished now he’d not let pass him by.

  Daemon regarded his kinsmen out of the corner of his eye, all those brave souls ready to die because of his endless mistakes.

  His brother, so ready to keep him from doing what he must to end this horrible, bloody war.

  And Raine.

  As he ran, he studied Raine with all his senses. Like the others, she remained frozen in time. He had never been able to figure her out, to predict her or control her. It was enough to break him out of his cycle of anger and madness. She, a human girl, had brought him low where armies had not.

  She was so much more beautiful to him, now that he knew her mind and heart. She was more fragile than a butterfly’s wing but stronger than a hurricane wind. It seemed also that having been trapped in a moment like this, her beauty only shone brighter somehow. Daemon came to the quick realization that it was not merely a fleshly beauty she possessed but an ethereal one so much grander than the dimension to which she belonged. It outshone time itself.

  The faint fluttering sound continued and he puzzled over it, tilting his head back to listen.

  The sound was not within his mind as he’d imagined, but outside it. He realized with a gasp what it was. A heartbeat.

  It was coming from Raine’s womb.

  The child growing inside Raine was somehow moving with him outside of time. Hers was no ordinary baby. Of course it wasn’t.

  Blood revealed all, and the child of Grimm and Raine was descended from the greatest bloodline of all.

  Which made his sacrifice all the more important now that he knew what was at stake—Litha must not gain control of Raine’s child, the monster must be stopped. Daemon had used precious energy stopping time, but he had closed the gap between him and the Leviathan, leaving Tryton far behind. His twin would be unable to stop him now; even if he Traveled he would not reach him in time.

  Daemon let the heat of Raine’s immense power rise beneath his skin and it was a glorious feeling. Almost like redemption.

  He let go of his hold on time, let the universe and the world go on moving…he was almost there…home free.

  “No, Daemon, don’t do it!” Tryton cried out again, his voice so far behind Daemon it no longer posed a threat.

  Daemon tossed one last cool grin over his shoulder at his twin and launched himself upward. He flew with all the speed of a jet airplane, faster even than Tryton could have flown, using the debris in the air to slide higher and swifter through the sky.

  When at last he reached the great form of the monster, to the onlookers he appeared no larger than a small pebble against a great mountain.

  A pebble that would topple that peak to ruins…Daemon reached out with his mind in one last desperate gamble…and threw himself into the heart of the beast.

  * * * * *

  Daemon’s mind touched Grimm’s in the prison that was the void inside the very form of the Leviathan itself and Grimm started.

  Grimm…

 
The behemoth was slowly consuming Grimm alive, every moment more painful than the one that had come before, but he could endure the torment. His mind was powerful enough to escape this place, to project himself outward and be with Raine and each stolen moment with her was worth a thousand moments in this void.

  Stop feeling maudlin, son.

  Grimm turned from that insidious voice. Don’t call me that.

  Ah, so you can hear me after all.

  What do you want, Daemon?

  To help you. I am coming for you.

  Leave me be. Can you not let me die in peace?

  What about Raine? Would you abandon her? Would you save Raine’s mind, Traveler? You can. Make it whole again and ease her suffering once and for all.

  Grimm, floating through darkness, now clung to the voice like a lifeline. I cannot save myself, what makes you think I can save Raine? In his mind’s eye he caught a glimpse of her bright hair and heterochromic eyes and could have wept rapture. The darkness had been all he could envision for so long…

  I told you I am coming. You will be saved. And you will save Raine. It is the price I demand for your freedom and your life—that you save her and keep her safe always.

  Grimm wanted to believe his words. But here in the black, trapped deep within the pit of the Leviathan’s mountainous form, all seemed hopeless. He was being devoured slowly, pieces of his soul disappearing so insidiously he hardly noticed until they were already gone.

  What is the catch, Daemon?

  It is true you won’t be the same when I return you, Traveler. But you will live. And you will love Raine with enough ferocity for the both of us. Yes, I have feelings for her…but I know she is yours and always will be, so leave it.

  Grimm swallowed a burning rage—surprised and relieved that he could feel anything as strong as jealousy. It gave him a spark of hope that he might not be too lost…

  When I destroy this creature you will accept the power that spills over—no, do not protest; think of Raine and your child, you stubborn ass. They need you, and you need this power if you are to live through what is about to happen.