The Phantom King (The Kings)

by Killough-Walden, Heather

  It was like watching water get soaked up into a sponge. There was no other way to describe it. The glittery black enveloped him and slowly faded, sinking through his shirt and into his skin as if he were thirsty for it.

  Slowly, the detective lowered his arms. His eyes were shut and his teeth were clenched. He seemed to be in pain.

  No, Siobhan thought with alarm. Not pain – pleasure.

  “Feels good, doesn’t it?” Thane asked, probably not really meaning it to be a question so much as a statement of fact. Steven still hadn’t opened his eyes, but she could hear him exhale shakily in the magically charged air of the room.

  Thane took a step forward, the sound of his boots on the floor boards ominously loud. “I think I can safely say that I know a little something about your parents now, detective. Or at least about one of them.” He took another step. “And I wager I know the reason you were drawn to Siobhan –” He stopped and looked over at her, then blatantly allowed his gaze to trail over her figure. “Well, one of the reasons, anyway.” His smile was back, and it was oh-so-wrong.

  He turned to Steven again. “You’ve got Akyri blood in you, Lazarus.” Another step.

  Steven finally opened his eyes. They were glowing again, but this time they were glowing red.

  “And you were right,” Thane finished, coming to a stop a few feet from the former detective. “You don’t belong in my realm. Because you were never dead to begin with.”

  *****

  Marius stood on the edge of the sidewalk beneath the shading of a massive oak and gazed through cold blue eyes at the house across the street. The sun had set hours ago, the moon was high, and the lights shed weak illumination on the empty asphalt and parked cars below. It was mid-May and other than the suicidal moths and mosquitoes swarming around the humming bulbs of street lamps, nothing moved in the stillness.

  Except the cat.

  Brrreow.

  Marius looked down. It had appeared out of nowhere and now sat in the middle of the black street, its orange tail curled around its legs, its large yellow eyes glued to Marius. It didn’t move, but just stared as if waiting for something.

  It was unnerving.

  Marius’ gaze narrowed into a glare before he pulled it off of the ginger cat and turned his attention back to the house across the street.

  It had been several days since the last time he’d looked upon it. The warlock had made some more changes to its facade, continuing to waste her enormous potential on piddly tasks such as home improvement. The Mustang that had been in the carport before was no longer there.

  The force field remained, however. Whatever had kept him out the last few times he’d tried to enter was still around. It surrounded the house like a thin cellophane wrapper, iridescent to him, invisible to all others.

  The house sat on a cul-de-sac in an older but quieter part of Salem. The rest of the lot around the house had been given over to landscaping that had seen better days. All the better, Marius thought as he felt his newly absorbed power swirl to life within him. The more trees and shrubs there were around the house, the less noise the neighbors would hear.

  He smiled a nasty smile and stepped off of the curb. The cat in the road lowered its head and its yellow eyes turned orange with inner light. It made a warning sound, low and long, and the night stopped to listen.

  Marius glared at it some more, hesitated, and then raised a hand, intent on giving the ginger beast a taste of his new found powers. However, the cat’s warning meow turned into a hiss, and then the lights on the street began to hiss as well. Marius looked up. One after another, the lights popped into darkness, the bulbs bursting. Glass sprinkled to the ground, tinkling across the sidewalk and asphalt in a shimmering waterfall.

  The street went dark. When Marius looked back down, the cat was gone. It had vanished. Into thin air.

  Marius glanced back up at the house. Its lights had gone out as well. The animal was clearly not mortal; he’d somehow blown the electricity for half the block. Marius felt his teeth clench together, his jaw tight in irritation. Fucking cat. When he was finished here, he would hunt down and kill twenty of them. It would make him feel better. But for now, he had bigger fish to fry.

  With a determined pace, Marius continued across the street. As he drew nearer, he picked up the sound of voices in conversation. He stopped when he reached the rose bushes along the walk of the warlock’s yard and listened.

  Two men, one woman. One of the voices was familiar to him. Very familiar.

  Rage shot through the blue of his eyes, turning them first to a muted amber color and then into red. Thanatos was in the house. The Phantom King.

  Marius inwardly swore, his blood boiling, his head spinning. What the hell was that man doing here? Didn’t he have a really important job to do somewhere else? Wasn’t he almost never in the mortal plane? Marius’ jaw began to ache and his head throbbed. Thanatos was honing in on his territory. It was the only explanation. He must have come across the warlock at some point and liked what he saw. He couldn’t blame him; she was a pretty thing with all of that red hair and those perfect lips. They were kissable lips – they were fuckable lips. He fully planned to have her kneeling in front of him, her throat wrapped tightly around his cock before he was done draining her of all of that glorious, dark magic.

  There was no way in any of the planes that he was going to let Thane get to her first.

  Marius’ hands curled into fists. If he attacked now, while the Phantom King was there, it would mean war. His place at the table of the 13 Kings would be forever revoked. He would become an outcast and all twelve of the others would actively hunt him down. D’Angelo would no doubt see to that.

  This was it. Either he believed in the power of his new and dark ally enough to sever his old ties here and now, or he admitted to himself that he’d made the wrong choice and sided with the wrong man. It was zero hour.

  Marius stood in the darkness and gazed up at the three-story mansion for another three seconds. And with that, he called forth the power he’d been given. Above, in the deepening night sky, clouds began to form and swirl together. The stars were blotted from the sky.

  And a thousand miles away, an imprisoned goddess frowned in her sleep as a little bit more of her magic was drained away.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Thane waited while the former detective got himself back under control. Lazarus’s eyes were now glowing with Akyri light and probably looked the way his attacker’s had several weeks ago. He also looked shocked. And scared.

  “You didn’t know,” Thane said. One of his parents had been an Akyri but the other had clearly been human, and that humanity had acted as a shield for the darker part of him all his life.

  “What just happened?” Siobhan whispered. She was standing beside the love seat, her lovely face even more pale than normal. Her eyes looked like golden saucers in her head. She looked small. He wanted to hold her.

  “I’m… I’m sorry, Siobhan. He’s right,” Steven said, his voice quivering slightly. “I didn’t know.” He shook his head, a helpless and shamed look claiming his handsome face.

  Thane could understand the sentiments. He could imagine what Steven Lazarus had gone through for the last thirty-some years. He’d probably always felt a little bit hungry and had no idea what for. Thane could see him burning his way through school and then through the police force hierarchy, always driven, always focused, and never feeling satisfied.

  Until he happened upon Siobhan – and her dark and pure magic.

  Siobhan said, “Would someone please explain to me…. I mean, what the hell is going –”

  From outside came a low hum and the sound of glass shattering. Then another. The three of them silenced, six ears perking to the noises beyond. Buzz-pop. Buzz-pop.

  After the fourth, all was quiet again. A second later, their own electricity zapped out, leaving them in darkness.

  Thane stood stock still, his silver eyes flashing, his black clad form blending into the dark
ness. He listened. Mental feelers issued out from him in all directions. It was clear from the deeper blackness peeking through the curtains that the street lights had gone out, and not in a gentle manner. Something had taken out the electricity for most of the neighborhood.

  By the door, Steven Lazarus reached for the guns he would have had in a double holster at his sides as a detective, but of course they were no longer there.

  On the other side of the living room, Siobhan’s magic was once more responding to her newborn fear, heating up her palms and illuminating them from within. Outside, a wind picked up, causing the thorns of rose bushes to scrape along the window panes. No one spoke.

  And then Steven’s red eyes flashed, pulsing like flares in the shadows. “It’s him,” he said softly. “He’s here again.”

  “Him?” Siobhan whispered. “Him who? The demon?”

  “The Akyri,” Thane said, confirming her fears. She looked up at him and he could feel his eyes going bright, lightening until they were glowing in his face. He knew how it looked: eerie, stark and unnatural. He didn’t want to scare her, but it was not the worst of his worries at that moment. “I don’t believe this,” he whispered.

  “What?” Steven asked, his own whisper harsh in the darkness.

  “It’s not just any Akyri.” He could feel the intruder’s signature just like he could feel any supernatural creature’s aura. It was erratic and jagged and filled with the green and red of envy and lust. He would recognize it anywhere.

  “It’s the Akyri King,” he said. His fangs had returned. Normally, he’d be regretting that he’d wasted the magic he’d stolen on Lazarus. “Stealing magic” was an ability he shared with the Akyri and a few other supernatural creatures. As a veritable “phantom,” he was immune to any direct effects of magic, but if he tried, he could capture what was cast at him and save it for later.

  He’d used what he’d saved from Siobhan’s blast on the detective and was now without a weapon that would have any kind of an effect upon most creatures. But in this case, it didn’t matter. Because Marius was an Akyri and he too would only absorb any magic used against him.

  “Another king?” Siobhan whispered. Her quieted tone was rising, as if skirting the edges of hysterics. “So it’s not just any demon that wants to eat me, huh? But the king of demons?”

  Definitely nearing hysterics.

  He had to get her out of here. It was the logical solution. Marius was here for her, and Lazarus could clearly take care of himself. In fact, there was something more to Steven Lazarus, something that Thane couldn’t put his finger on. He was only half Akyri, and yet he felt more massive with power than almost any Akyri he’d ever met.

  It was a conundrum best unraveled at a later date.

  “Siobhan, come with me,” Thane whispered, turning to her and holding out his hand.

  She looked at him with wide, luminous eyes, then looked down at his hand, and then looked back up again. Her mouth opened. And then closed.

  “It’s the only way, warlock. We don’t stand a chance against someone like Marius. Not here, not now.”

  “You’re right there,” came an entirely new voice, but another that Thane instantly recognized. He spun around as the air parted behind him and a portal opened up. A half second later, out stepped Jason Alberich, the Warlock King.

  “Alberich!” Thane exclaimed, trying to keep his voice down, but a little too surprised to succeed.

  “She’s one of mine, Thane,” he said by way of explanation. The tall blonde, green-eyed king looked from him to Siobhan. “Whether she knows it or not.”

  Roman was right, thought Thane. The Warlock King had come a long way.

  There were only so many warlocks in the world, a thousand at most. Their magic was dark, but it was powerful, and a nation of a thousand warlocks was a powerful kingdom indeed. As their king, Jason Alberich had inherited the ability to detect a warlock anywhere on the planet. All that was necessary was the use of black magic for what it was intended – that being harm – and Jason would know of its user and where to find them.

  When Siobhan had attacked Thane, even in self defense, the magic she’d saved up her whole life had finally been put to the use for which it was meant, alerting Jason to her existence. The fact that she used it in self defense had no doubt triggered Jason’s protective instincts, bringing him here now. As did most of the kings at their table, Alberich clearly took his responsibilities to his people seriously. Thane was impressed.

  “Get her out of here,” Jason told him, nodding toward Siobhan, who was staring at the three of them now in nothing short of shock. Whatever happened, if they survived, Thane was going to have to do a lot of explaining to do for her sake.

  “You don’t have to tell me twice,” he muttered and strode toward Siobhan. Instinctively, she stepped back, but his hand was wrapped around her wrist before she finished the movement.

  “We have to go,” he told her firmly. “Now.”

  Outside, lightning streaked across the sky. A second later, the windows along the east wall of the house exploded inward with tremendous force. The sound was deafening, and it gave the world a surreal quality as Thane pulled Siobhan to the side with superhuman speed and bent over her. The glass sprayed across the living room, followed closely by the wave of force that had shattered it to begin with. Thousands of miniscule shards buffeted everyone and everything inside; Thane felt it slice across his leather jacket like hellish sand paper. His death grip on Siobhan tightened and he bent lower as the power hit him next, rocking him forward and washing over him, dark and hot and wrong.

  That was what black magic taken to its limit felt like. It was the difference between someone like Marius and someone like Siobhan. Two warlocks, one good, one evil, the separateness of their respective magics elementally tangible. Though Marius’ magic moved over Thane and had no real effect upon him, he could sense the potential damage within it and had never been more grateful for his immunity than he was in that moment. Especially since it protected the woman in his arms.

  Time slowed for him, despite the hectic thrust of reality. In that space of stretched out seconds, as a furnace of glass and magic shot over him, Thane found himself blissfully distracted. She was warm where her back was pressed against his chest. She smelled like roses, potting soil, and a hint of lotion. The skin of her arms was so soft against his biceps, it felt like satin, and the curve of her hip beneath his palms enticed his fingers to curl and claim tighter purchase.

  And then the glass was sliding across the floor and someone was shoving him to the side, and he was turning, taking Siobhan with him as Jason Alberich raised his arms and began to cast a spell. There was a flash of red light and to Jason’s left, Steven Lazarus spun to face the Akyri who popped into existence beside him. Another flash – and another – and the living room was filling with Marius’ Akyri lackeys.

  Jason’s hastily spoken spell began to fill the room with a sucking sound. “Just take her and go!” the Warlock King bellowed, and Thane acted without thinking, spinning Siobhan around and shoving her down to the only glass-free space on the floor boards behind the couch. He went after her, opening a portal beneath her.

  He caught her cry of surprise floating up toward him as, instead of hitting the wood and catching herself as she’d intended, she continued to fall.

  And fall.

  Until his bed bounced beneath her, absorbing the impact and shocking her into silence. Thane hit the bed beside her, one strong arm draped over her body, the other expertly braced to catch the majority of his weight.

  White sheets wrapped around Siobhan’s legs as she pushed herself up on her arms, took in her surroundings through wide brown eyes, and then flipped over in the bed and tried to very quickly sit up.

  Her shirt and bra strap had both slipped, exposing the long, creamy expanse of her throat and shoulder

  Thane’s instinct reared its dragon-like head, urging him to push her back down, to slide his body over hers and do whatever it took to k
eep her there. It was a driving force, unexpected and strong, and it took an immense amount of strength to act against it.

  He was no stranger to the one night stand, but he’d never had a woman in his actual bed before. Not his bed – not this bed. Hell, he’d never brought a woman into his realm before. Now, seeing Siobhan with all of her glorious red messed-up hair and hearing her soft, quick breaths, and feeling the warmth and softness of her only inches away from him on top of his sheets and pillows had a strange effect on Thane.

  It was a little bit maddening.

  Siobhan stared up at him from where she sat up a half a foot away. A lock of hair had fallen in front of her face and moved with each scared breath she took. “Where am I?” she asked, her voice quaking. “What the hell did you do?” She sat further up and tried to scramble away, but his sheets were doing a number on her legs. “Where am I?” she repeated, louder this time.

  Thane hesitated a moment, desperately not wanting to leave the bed. He was a man, however, not a teenage boy, so he shoved his hormones back into place and took a deep, calming breath.

  He thought of the Warlock King and Steven Lazarus – and Marius. He could slow time here on his plane, but not indefinitely. He was well aware that he was going to have to return very soon. He doubted Marius could take Jason Alberich, and Lazarus was in no danger since he was an Akyri and clearly knew how to brawl, but he also knew that there would be a mess to clean up. And Roman D’Angelo would need to know what was going down. The entire council of the 13 Kings would need to meet.

  Well…. The entire council of twelve.

  Slowly, Thane pushed himself up and off of the bed. There he gazed down at Siobhan for a long time, taking in every detail of the disheveled, auburn-haired, black magicked woman and memorizing it for later, before he once more offered her his hand. “You’re in my bed,” he told her frankly.

  When it was made patently clear by her gold-sparking glare and white gritted teeth that that was not what she meant, he allowed himself to smile. “In Purgatory,” he continued. “Welcome to my world.”