Clashing Tempest (Men of Myth Book 3)

by Brandon Witt

  When the last chain fell, I looked at him again. “I’ll try to get the shackles off, if I can. I shouldn’t use fire so close to your skin. I’d burn you.”

  “How do you do that? I did not know of mers having such power.”

  “They don’t.” I forced a grin. “It’s a gift from my mother.”

  Before I reached for his arm to try to pry the cuff from his wrist, he surprised me. Both with a question and the first real emotion I’d detected from him. “Is my understanding correct? You have been with the Chromis?”

  I nodded, glad that he seemed to believe me. “Yes. Syleen has accepted me as part of the tribe.”

  “Syleen.” He seemed to turn the name over in his mind. “I remember her, though I have not thought her name for as long as I can recall.”

  I almost laughed. “She’d be hard to forget.”

  “There was another whose name I cannot remember. He was thin and scarred over his body and face. Have you seen him?”

  I had no doubt who he was referencing. Even before I confirmed the name, I knew why Ventait had asked. Our suspicions had been correct. “Yes. Zef. I’ve met him.”

  He glowered, his countenance darkening. “Yes. Zef. That is true. I remember. He is the one who sold us to the vampires. At least the ones all those centuries ago. The mers here tell of the merman with scars on his face and body, a tale passed down from each generation of captives. As a child, when I first was brought here, I did not make the connection to the one who had been so kind to me. Through the years, having heard the story of our fate so many times, I came to believe he is the monster of which the others speak.”

  Forty-One

  FINN DE MORISCO

  The jellyfish swirled in their endless spiraling dance. Cynthia tapped on the glass as she sat on the edge of her bed, her long nail moving without sound—as was every other action I observed from the other side of the glass. I mimicked her motion, my finger drumming on the smooth surface beside my face. It was a halfhearted attempt. Even if I pounded with both my fists, she wouldn’t hear. In the past couple of weeks, she’d stopped even turning toward me when I came on my frequent visits. Maybe she could still sense someone there, or maybe not.

  My attention was pulled over my shoulder when the sconces flared.

  She knew I was there. Or at least that someone was there. Good. Caitlin didn’t think Cynthia was really behind the power surges. She was wrong. I was certain Cynthia’s powers were growing like mine. Or at least changing. It felt different than the magic I was learning with Schwint.

  It’s almost time, sis. Maybe even today. Brett’s here. We’re gonna get you outta here. It took all my willpower not to whisper to her. Even more for my own sake than for hers. I needed to hear the words, even if they were coming from my own voice. Couldn’t risk it, though, not with vampire hearing. There might be some vampire right around the corner or up a nearby flight of stairs. I didn’t even bother with trying to speak to her mentally through the glass. Enough miracles had occurred in the past hour. If more were to happen, I wasn’t going to waste one for the sheer sake of talking to her. She’d been lost in her solitary cell for nearly two months. A few more hours or days weren’t going to make any difference.

  Staring at her, I realized I’d given up at some point. I hadn’t even realized it. I’d begun to assume I’d never hear her voice again, never see her free. Never see any of us free again. After all the time in the Vampire Cathedral, all the waiting, strengthening my power and skill, trying to formulate a plan that never seemed to come together, I’d begun to believe nothing could be done. I would still try to scheme and wait for an opportunity, but in the back of my mind, I’d seen us waiting forever, until we had no more time.

  Now all that had changed. I still had no guarantee, but there would be no more waiting. We might not live through it, but the opportunity had arrived. And in the most unlikely and unexpected forms—Brett and Sonia. Even as I tried to comprehend it, my brain rejected the possibility. I was never supposed to see Brett again, let alone battle beside him against the Royals, and with the vampire queen on our side. Regardless of the outcome, this interminable life I’d begun to accept stretching out indefinitely was coming to an end. Whether we made it back home or made it to the grave, we were going to be free.

  As I watched, Cynthia stretched and stood up from the bed, giving the pedestal fish globe a final tap. She smoothed out her long white gown, twisted her mass of russet hair behind her head, letting it fall down her back, then stepped deliberately toward me. She paused less than a foot away. Her eyes never searched the space between us or narrowed like she was trying to zone in on me, nor did she focus on me at all. She simply stood there, stoic.

  With a move so subtle I might have missed it, she lifted her chin. The gesture was more Caitlin than Cynthia. Almost arrogant. At the motion, the sconces flared. I turned toward them once more. Fire rose two feet high, leaving scorch marks on the smooth flushed marble. As I stared, the fire died back down to its normal soft flicker.

  By the time I looked back at Cynthia, she was walking toward the far doorway. Her back was straight and her shoulders rigid. She stepped into the restroom and closed the door behind her.

  Unable to suppress a smile, I continued to gaze at the closed door. She knew. Somehow she knew. And she was ready. And pissed.

  Schwint’s back was to me as I entered our chamber. He was staring out the window, his blue-veined dragonfly wings folded down his shirtless spine.

  “I thought you’d be with Gwala.”

  “He wasn’t there. I only saw Veronica and a couple of other vamps in the throne room. I left before she saw me. The last thing I need this morning is some vampire bitch staring at my limp like she’s picturing a huge turkey leg.” He didn’t turn around, and I couldn’t read his expression from his tone.

  I took a few steps toward him, then paused by the bed.

  He glanced over his shoulder at me and attempted a smile. “What? No laugh? I thought that was pretty funny.”

  “Probably would be funnier if it weren’t so true.”

  “Yeah. It’s a good thing Brett and the werewolf showed up when they did. I’m pretty sure much longer and she was going to try to chow down, Gwala sanctioned or not.”

  He waited for a moment, then continued when I didn’t respond. “Everything go okay? You and Brett make it to the mers?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. No problems.”

  “Did he say how the mers responded to him?”

  I sat down on the edge of the bed, then pulled myself backward so my feet were hanging without touching the floor. I spread my arms wide behind me as I supported my weight. Already the room was muggy with humidity. “I didn’t wait to find out. He’s still there, I suppose. I left him before he went into the pool.”

  “You sealed him inside?”

  I shrugged. “He’s a demon. He can move the stone if he needs to. Plus, I figure he’ll stay down there awhile. Probably the safest place to be for now. It’s not like Gwala goes down there for morning swims or anything.”

  He tilted his chin in agreement, then returned to staring out the window. Maybe he was looking at the surf on the beach or at the sun as it began to rise in the sky, but I doubted it.

  I stared at him, much the same way I’d inspected Cynthia. He felt a million miles away. Farther than he’d ever been before. There might as well have been a thick pane of glass between us.

  He was in his true fairy form. Ears pointed, slightly more willowy and otherworldly than the appearance he usually projected. The sunlight caught the black and silver of his salt-and-pepper hair, as well as highlighted the lean muscles of his upper body.

  He was beautiful, my fairy. I’d thought it before, but it struck me anew after having just left Brett. He was as beautiful as my demon ex, but completely different. Fully different kinds of beauty.

  I ridiculed myself at the thought. Like any of that mattered anyway. Sure, I’d been enamored by Brett’s looks, but that hadn’t been the r
eason I’d fallen so hard for him. Neither was it the reason I was in love with Schwint.

  And in that regard, there was no issue of equality. None. This fairy, this man, had left his whole life behind to come with me to help save my sister from the Royals. I’d said as much to Brett mere moments ago, but it had been more of a defense. The evidence washed over me as I stared at him. From the beginning, he’d accepted me where I’d been. He hadn’t freaked out that I was still hurting from Brett. Hadn’t run away when Omar had nearly crippled me with headaches. Hadn’t flinched when, well, ever. He’d been steady and true. Always.

  No equality in terms of the love Schwint had shown to me. Nor in the love I felt for him. I’d told him as much, that I loved him more than I’d loved Brett. I doubted he ever believed it. And maybe I hadn’t really either.

  Having just been with Brett, the truth of it now coursed through me. Brett had a part of my heart, and he always would. A small part, it turned out. The rest belonged to Schwint. My heart and my life.

  I slid off the bed and padded up to Schwint. Slipping my arms around his chest, I pulled myself into him, resting my cheek on the back of his shoulder blade. “I love you.”

  He’d begun to curve into me but stiffened at my words. “I’m sorry I got weird. You don’t have to—”

  I pulled away and repositioned myself between him and window. “Of course you got weird. It was weird, and I didn’t know what to do. You don’t have to be sorry. I’m the one who should be sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

  “You didn’t need me getting jealous right then, like you said. I should—”

  I held up my hand, cutting him off. “No. No more apologies. It’s past, and we’re here.” His gaze darted away, and I waited until he looked back at me. “I love you, Schwint. With all my heart. You are the one I want. You already were, and I’m sorry if I haven’t done a good enough job making sure you know it.”

  His huge yellow eyes were still distant as they searched mine. “Brett’s here now. He might—”

  “It wouldn’t matter if he were right here with us this very instant. I choose you. I will always choose you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I couldn’t suppress my smile. “Yes. I’m sure. Completely sure. I love you.”

  He kissed me, the vestiges of his reserve falling away.

  Again the sense of foreboding washed over me, as it had when Caitlin walked away. Suddenly, it was clear. I wasn’t going to make it through this. If Cynthia and Caitlin made it, it was a small price to pay. If Schwint made it.

  For a heartbeat, I felt guilty at my next impulse. Too much was at stake. It could all go down any second. We should be getting ready. We should be preparing to fight.

  Pulling back from Schwint’s kiss, I commanded myself to stay in the moment. With the man holding me in his arms. Worry about what happened next whenever it happened.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I searched his kind eyes, making sure he was able to read how much I meant the words so they would last. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, Finn.”

  “I know.” I looked toward the bed. “Make love to me.”

  Forty-Two

  FINN DE MORISCO

  I wasn’t sure how much time passed. Not enough, I was certain of that. As much as we’d waited for this moment to come, I now wanted this time to last indefinitely. Stay right on the edge of the fight. Where we knew the end was near but had yet to pay the price.

  Schwint groaned and forced himself off the bed when the knock at the door sounded a second time, this time more insistent.

  I watched the movement of his ass as he walked toward the door, then started. “Schwint, wait!”

  He looked back at me. “Yeah?”

  Reaching over the bed, I stretched out my arm to grasp the fabric on the floor. As I sat up, I held the shorts out toward him. “You forgetting something?”

  He shrugged, his grin playful. “Does it really matter?”

  I shook the clothing at him in response.

  “Fine.” As he turned back to the door, his wings vanished and flower-patterned purple shorts and an orange tank top clothed his body.

  I groaned. How he still had a sense of humor in the middle of all this, I couldn’t fathom. “Homage to Bertha today, huh?”

  “You got it, babe.” He opened the door and took a step back.

  Veronica let her gaze wander over Schwint’s body, deliberately pausing when she got to his affected leg.

  “Would you like me to shave it for you so you don’t get hair in your teeth?”

  Her fangs glistened as she leered at him. “That won’t be necessary.”

  “Maybe I can get a sunburn. Give you a taste of what you can’t have.”

  Veronica took a step toward Schwint.

  He moved a few inches to the right, slipping into a shaft of light that poured through the window. “Midday snack? It’s gotta be past noon by now, right?”

  She glared at him for a moment before turning her hate-filled eyes toward me. It seemed impossible I’d ever felt sorry for her. “The king requires your presence.”

  I took a breath. Already? He knew? “Okay. Just give me a second to throw some clothes on.”

  “Got it.” Without looking my way, Schwint clothed me. He smiled sweetly at the vampire. “Don’t you wish you had power like that instead of the ability to drink a lot?”

  “When the king gives the word, I’m going to destroy you, slowly. Let’s see how useful your parlor tricks are then.”

  Before Schwint could retort, I glanced down at the shirt he’d given me. “Really?”

  He looked over at me and smiled, pointing to his shorts. “We match.”

  Rolling my eyes at him, I touched the hem causing the floral print to transition to a solid shade of mustard yellow.

  “Well, now that’s boring.”

  “Don’t worry, they’ll….” I nearly said there would be more than enough excitement later. “I’ll make it up to ya later. It won’t be boring at all.” My heart clenched at the promise that would be broken. I doubted there would be a later.

  Veronica cringed at the implication. “Enough of this. Gwala is waiting.”

  I slid off the bed and slipped on my flip-flops. Then, thinking of the possibilities that the day might hold, I flicked my fingers in their direction, and they morphed into a pair of Converse sneakers that matched my shirt.

  “Now you’re just showing off.”

  I winked at Schwint. “You started it.”

  Veronica headed for the door, expecting me to follow without being told a second time.

  Schwint shut the door behind him as we exited the room.

  “I was sent to bring the warlock. He never requested the fairy.”

  “Now, don’t be like that. Nobody likes a spoilsport.”

  I elbowed him in the side. “Quit egging her on.”

  “Listen to your lover, fairy. I might decide it’s better to ask forgiveness than for permission.” Veronica made me glad I hadn’t whispered anything further.

  To my relief, Schwint didn’t reply and fell silent as his steps aligned with mine. Our fingers intertwined, and he gave my hand a squeeze.

  Veronica stayed outside the doorway as she ushered us into the sun-filled space.

  Automatically, I averted my eyes from the long table, certain I’d see the old warlock impaled on the spikes. Instead, I focused on the vines covering the walls. The flowers blossomed in thick clumps, making it seem even more like a waterfall was flowing in from the jagged opening so far above us. It still amazed me that such an ethereal space could be so vile.

  “Thank you for joining me.” Gwala was dressed in the simple white robe, his dark chest naked and smooth. He motioned toward the entryway, and I heard Veronica slide the door back into place. Turning his attention back to us, he gestured toward the table.

  Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t keep from glancing at the spikes.

  “Have
you lunched this day, or should I have food brought in?”

  When I didn’t respond soon enough, Schwint jumped in, his voice losing all the ridicule it had held when he’d addressed Veronica. “Thank you, Your Majesty, but we have already eaten today.”

  We hadn’t. Between Brett arriving in the wee hours of the morning, and then the lovemaking session with Schwint, eating hadn’t even crossed my mind. My mouth watered at the mention of food. Maybe I’d already had my last meal.

  “Very well.” The king tilted his head slightly as he looked at me. “Is everything all right, Warlock Finn? Are you feeling sickly?”

  I forced myself to meet his eyes. I decided speaking a portion of the truth might throw him off more than an out-and-out lie. “No. I’m fine. I was just picturing Omar.”

  The king’s lips curved into a smile, and he pushed himself off the edge of the table where he’d been leaning and strolled along the side. He ran his fingers down the closest of the spikes. “Yes. Not the ending he’d envisioned, I’m certain. But, it was the one he’d earned.” He looked toward Schwint. “You have healed, I assume? No setbacks?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty, I am still doing well. Thank you.”

  Gwala nodded, then turned back to me, opening his mouth to speak. Before he could, the door opened once more.

  Sonia stepped into the room.

  “Ah, my queen. Perfect timing.” He motioned for her to stand next to him.

  Without so much as a glance in our direction, Sonia strode across the room, looking every inch the queen Gwala had made her. A floor-length black gown, low cut and sleeveless, displayed her perfect honeyed skin. Her long black hair fell in a sheath down her back, not one strand out of place. If I hadn’t known, I would never have guessed she’d been covered in blood just a couple of hours ago. I wondered what story she’d given Gwala. Whatever it had been, there seemed no reservation on his part now.