Clashing Tempest (Men of Myth Book 3)

by Brandon Witt

  The king whipped around and smashed Schwint in the face.

  Schwint’s cry of pain followed the sound of bones breaking. His wings beating furiously, he darted toward Gwala again. A golden spark swept him farther up into the air, away from the two of us.

  Though Schwint cursed at Newton, I had a rush of gratitude. The fairy had saved me from watching the man I love die before my eyes.

  Shoving Shane out of the way as the wolf raced toward us, Brett smashed into Gwala. They slammed into the edge of the table, the force of their impact denting the gold-and-silver structure.

  Again, the vampire moved so swiftly that he seemed not to have to move, only will his desires. As Gwala lifted Brett over his head, his body continued to regenerate, his dark skin glistening with health. It was only for a moment, and then Brett burst into flames, taking Gwala’s new skin in an instant.

  Even within the orb of fire, Brett wasn’t able to reposition his body in such a way that he could grasp the vampire king. The newly charred form of Gwala stepped up onto the table, lifted Brett higher into the air, and brought him down on the closest spike, impaling him through the stomach.

  Brett’s fire died as the spear pierced him.

  Gwala’s body began to heal once more as he loomed over Brett.

  Screaming, I rushed toward the vampire. I was dimly aware of the werewolf running along beside me.

  Between us and the table, the center of the room ignited in a tower of flames.

  No sooner had the fire flared than it disappeared.

  In its place stood a man.

  Instantly, Gwala dropped to the surface of the table beside Brett’s body. For a second, I thought he’d died, then realized he was bowing.

  The mountain of a man stepped toward the table, closing the distance with two massive strides. He had to be nearly eight feet tall. Long black hair hung down sun-darkened naked skin.

  His voice caused a new wave of fear to course through my body. “You dare harm my grandson?”

  Forty-Seven

  BRETT WRIGHT

  It was hard to see the man from my position on the table, but there was no mistaking his words.

  In contrast, I could tell the vampire was saying something, but his high-pitched keening made it impossible for me to decipher his meaning. Either that, or the agony of my body was obliterating nearly everything else from my senses.

  Another torrent of flames and anything the king had been trying to say was cut off. Permanently.

  The giant came closer, and then, placing one foot on the wraparound bench and the other on the surface of the table, he bent down and lifted me from the spike. Things went blurry from the pain, and darkness threatened to overtake me. Just before I succumbed, I was free, and he laid me back on the surface of the table.

  He looked over his shoulder. “Vampire. Come.”

  A form came and stood beside the man. Without any further instructions, the vampire raised a thin arm over my body. Nails sliced into flesh, and blood poured into my wound.

  Immediately, the pain stopped. A warming sensation coursed through me, and I could feel broken ribs healing, pierced organs reknitting, and lastly, my skin growing back together.

  The man’s deep voice cut through the silence again. “There you are, my boy. You’re demon enough that the damage wouldn’t have been permanent, but the parasite’s blood sped it up a bit.”

  Gingerly, I pushed myself up to a sitting position and looked the man full in the face. He was the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen. It was a tie actually. Demon beauty. He was equal to the one I’d met in the cave outside San Diego.

  I’d known the Cathedral had been demon-made.

  Staring at him, his words came back to me, and as they did, an image played at the corner of my memory. The photo of Jessica, my mother. Her beautiful face. Long black hair and tan skin. So different from my own light complexion. “You’re my grandfather.” It wasn’t a question, just a confirmation of his earlier statement. The evidence was obvious.

  He nodded, and I searched his eyes, looking for something. Something I’d never seen in my own grandfather’s expression.

  Black eyes stared back at me.

  Right. Demon. No love there.

  Another thought shoved past the rest. “You’re the one who raped my grandmother.”

  He didn’t so much as shrug, only turned his attention to the one beside him. “You will take the king’s place. If you were willing to attempt to overthrow his reign, you are the right one to sit on his throne.”

  I followed his gaze. “Sonia.” I couldn’t believe my eyes.

  She didn’t look at me. She gazed up at the demon. At my grandfather. Her small frame was rigid in defiance, even as the wounds at her throat continued to heal. “No. I will not replace Gwala. I have no desire to reign on his throne. I did not help destroy him only to take his place.”

  A deep, slow laugh emanated from the demon. “I was not asking.”

  As she stared at him, a different expression crossed her face. A mix of anguish and desperation. I saw Sonia again. Not the vampire queen, just Sonia. My heart broke.

  “Give her freedom. Please. You owe me that much.”

  He turned toward me, anger flickering in his otherwise dead eyes. “I owe you nothing. I ended the fool Gwala because he dared harm my blood. Do not mistake my protection for anything other than it is. A vampire may not be able to end your existence, but I can.”

  I struck the entitlement from my voice. “Please. Give Sonia her freedom. She risked her life to protect me. To protect your blood.”

  Another laugh. “You are a fool. My offspring, but a fool. Anything she may have done was for her own benefit. Not yours.”

  Sonia spoke up, sidestepping our conversation. “I am not prepared to rule in the king’s stead. I am both a new vampire and new to the Cathedral. I know nothing about ruling over vampires.”

  The demon leaned down, his massive form dwarfing her as he met her eyes. “I could not care less about the rule of vampires. Do what you will with them. This cathedral was set in place by demons, and your kind are nothing more than servants, meant to do our bidding.”

  “How?” Sonia’s voice was so quiet I could barely hear it.

  “Did Gwala not teach you, child?” He continued without waiting for a response. “The vampires oversee the Squares. Make sure everything is as it should be in each one.”

  At Sonia’s continued look of confusion, the demon rose back to his full height and made a sweeping motion with his arms, his gesture seeming to encompass so much more than the banquet room. “We steal the souls, vampire. The Squares are but one tool in which we accomplish that end.” His lips curled in distaste. “Your ilk manages that particular system for us. And you just rose to the top.”

  Sonia looked on the edge of panic. She glanced around the room as if an escape might present itself. “I can’t. I don’t want it.”

  “I didn’t ask.” Chuckling, he turned back to me, as if sharing a joke. “Training her should be interesting. She’s got a lot more to her than Gwala ever had.”

  I searched for some way to help her. Strike some sort of bargain.

  Finn’s voice cut between us, drawing our attention across the room. “Can you help her? Please?”

  Finn was against the wall, tears streaming down his face, Caitlin’s body limp in his arms. Nearby, Schwint stood protectively over Cynthia’s still-unconscious form.

  The demon stared at Finn and Caitlin for a moment before responding in a bored tone. “Even if I wanted to, warlock, I cannot heal the dead.”

  With no other response, without looking back toward me, he disappeared in a final surge of flame.

  Forty-Eight

  BRETT WRIGHT

  Somewhere in all the chaos around Caitlin’s death, Sonia disappeared. Since I was afraid what her reaction might be once she recovered from the shock of her new fate, I thought it best to leave the Vampire Cathedral immediately. In all honesty, I doubted she would recover any time s
oon, if ever. Still, I didn’t know how long the other vampires would be away from the fortress, nor did I have any delusions that my demon grandfather would show up to protect us. Cynthia was still unconscious as we ran down the stairs that led to our escape. Shane carried her, while Finn refused to let anyone else take care of Caitlin’s body.

  Somehow the sense of terror had increased as we’d run from the piles of ash in the banquet chamber. It was all too quiet. Not even the distant cry of animals. Only the echo of our feet on the marble floor and the rustle of Cynthia’s gown.

  Even as we reached the fork in the tunnel, one path descending to freedom, the other to the mers, the rank stench of the torched vampires seemed to cloud around us.

  Ahead of me, Schwint led Finn down the steps toward the underground harbor, helping guide his steps as he made sure he didn’t fall with Caitlin’s body.

  “Wait!” My voice echoed through the stone passageways.

  Only Schwint and Shane looked back at the noise. Finn didn’t even stop until Schwint blocked his path.

  We waited for a moment, perhaps afraid my cry would call the vampires down upon us. Bring Gwala back from the dead. When nothing happened, I stepped forward, moving past Shane and closing the distance between Finn and me. My gaze flicked toward Schwint, but I looked back to Finn before he could respond. I didn’t need his permission.

  He gave it anyway. As I reached Finn, the fairy moved down several steps, giving us privacy. Or at least the illusion of it.

  I moved in front of Finn, reaching over Caitlin’s body to grasp his shoulder. His brown eyes shifted to look my way, but they were unfocused and distant. There were so many things I wanted to say. So many things that didn’t even have words. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

  Tears continued to fall down his face as I pulled him close, pressing Caitlin between us. I kissed his cheek and managed to whisper that I loved him.

  I wasn’t sure how long I held him before I felt Schwint’s hand on my back. Feeling as if I were ripping my own heart out, I released my hold and stepped away. Schwint squeezed my shoulder and mumbled something I couldn’t make out, then led him away.

  I’d like to think at least some of Finn’s tears were for me, for us. In my honest moments, I doubt it. I don’t really think he was aware of anything that was going on outside of his grief for his sister. Still, maybe some of the tears were for me. A selfish wish.

  “Are you sure you can free the mers yourself?” Shane stepped down, pausing when he was even with me. “I can stay.”

  As I looked back at him, Cynthia’s body was between us, just like her older sister before her. Cynthia’s skin still had a faint glow about it. I stretched my hand out and stroked her cheek with the back of my index finger. She’d saved us all. The purest of us all had been the one to harness the power of a demon. I’d felt the shift when she’d begun to absorb my power. Something had changed in me, and I was certain the same was true for her. Poor, fragile Cynthia.

  Not anymore. I hoped I hadn’t broken her.

  “Brett, would you like me to stay?” Shane’s voice drew my attention away from the tiny witch in his arms.

  “No.” I couldn’t suppress a grin as I looked into his face. “I’m not sure who would be more scared. The mers seeing a werewolf swimming around, or you having to get your hair wet.”

  He smiled back at me. “Good thing I don’t have much hair to get wet, huh?”

  “Thank you, Shane, but go.” I glanced back down the empty steps, then met Shane’s gaze. “Keep them safe. Make sure they get home, okay?”

  “You know I will.”

  I felt my eyes begin to burn as I reached out toward him.

  “Oh, hell no. I don’t do that.” Shane’s tone was gruff, but it caught slightly. “No good-byes.”

  Pulling back, I nodded. “Thank you. There’s no way any of us would have gotten through this without you.”

  He shrugged. “I said I wanted an adventure.”

  It was simple enough to free the mers. Making a path through the marble from the mers’ enclosure to the sea was nearly effortless. Even easier than freeing Cynthia. Somehow my fire seemed stronger in the water than it had before. I think that had more to do with Cynthia than anything else.

  The mers, even the sick ones, didn’t require any extra prodding to escape their prison. That changed for some when we reached the open sea, as terror at the vastness paralyzed them. Even Ventait seemed taken aback.

  I think some of their fear began to ease when Therin and Greylin joined us. Despite knowing my power was what enabled us to open a passage to the sea, it only terrified them more. Seeing the two mermen, with actual tails and everything, soothed in a way I never could.

  Both of the males looked like children on Christmas morning as they swam toward us. Children who not only got everything on their Christmas list, but received three of each item from the entire catalogue. In all, nearly three hundred mers had been living under the Vampire Cathedral. If you can call it living. From Therin’s and Greylin’s expressions, I’d not been the only one who was doubtful we’d return with many captive mers, if any. They would have been ecstatic if Ventait had been the only one we’d managed to save, but we’d found so many more.

  Within moments, I’d relayed the events to Greylin and Dad. I doubted Sonia was going to swoop down and try to recapture the mers. She’d wanted them gone, to take away Gwala’s prize possessions. Still, things had changed, and we decided we should head toward the rest of the Chromis. Ventait had been the deciding factor. He didn’t want to stay a second longer near the Vampire Cathedral. I didn’t blame him.

  To my shame, I wanted to stay. I nearly suggested they go on without me, that I’d catch up. Finn was still near. I could go back to the Cathedral, steal a boat of my own, and go after him. For a second, I thought the impulse meant I wanted him back, that I was ready to give up my life in the ocean and try building something more with him. Even before the notion fully formed, I cast it aside. That wasn’t it. It didn’t feel true. My life was with the mers. They were my family.

  Still, I’d had less than twelve hours in Finn’s presence. All totaled, it probably added up to less than two where we were actually in the same spot. It felt rushed.

  There wasn’t really anything else to say. We’d said more than I thought we’d ever get to, actually. We’d done what we needed to do, maybe fulfilled the whole reason we’d met. The nymphs had told me there was more than one way to reach our destiny. Maybe the mers would have been rescued if Finn and I had stayed together, maybe they wouldn’t have.

  In the end, I swam off with the others into the darkening waters as the sun set. I was where I should be. No reason to question the past or try to figure out what might have been. There were too many maybes.

  We met the rest of the Chromis tribe before the sun reached its zenith the following day. It seemed when Syleen and Lelas had returned with the story of Wrell and Nalu, the tribe was unanimous in its assertion that they join Therin, Greylin, and myself, and they had headed in our direction within the hour.

  Lelas looked like my old friend for a moment when she saw Ventait. She rushed toward him and wrapped him in her arms. To my surprise, he hugged back. I wasn’t sure how the mating thing worked when one of them died, but maybe Lelas was going to get a second chance after all.

  When it was my turn for her attention, I truly could see that she was still there, that she was still Lelas. She was going to be fine. Maybe not fully the same as she had been before, but none of us would be.

  Syleen had barely greeted Ventait when the merman stiffened, his gaze wandering past the Chromis leader.

  I followed the direction of his attention and saw Rulus and Flain bringing up the rear of the tribe—Zef bound by long chains between the twins.

  Ventait whipped his head around, searching. Finding what he sought, he held his hand out to my father. “Give me your blade.”

  His tone held such power Therin moved to offer it to him without a sec
ond thought, then paused, catching himself, his eyes darting to where Ventait had been looking.

  Probably anticipating such a scene, Syleen spoke before Therin had a chance to make up his mind. “There is no greater joy that I have experienced in this existence that matches your return to us, Ventait, but there is a way things must be handled.”

  He didn’t take his eyes off Zef as he addressed her. “He is the reason. He is the one who sold his kind, his tribe.”

  Syleen hesitated, her gaze softening as she studied Ventait. Then she gave a slight shake of her head. “And Moheetla will be his judge. Not us. Not you.”

  At this, Ventait looked over at her, fury covering his expression.

  They stared at each other, motionless. No one moved, not even the hoard of the vampires’ former captives.

  As much as I didn’t blame Ventait for wanting immediate vengeance, it was Syleen I watched. Her black hair and scales almost disappeared into the murky water as she faced off with the brightness of the returned merman. Almost. Even in this, she was the queen. She might not officially have the label, but after Akamaii, the Volitan queen, and Gwala, Syleen had earned the unclaimed title, at least with me. She was my queen. As much as I rebelled at the thought, I’d stop Ventait if I needed to.

  Even while Ventait shook in anger as he glared at her, Syleen motioned toward the twins. “Bring Zef forward.”

  He didn’t struggle, allowing himself to be dragged through the water as Flain and Rulus complied with Syleen’s directive. They stopped less than five feet from Ventait.

  “I am glad to see you are alive and well. Moheetla has had his protection around you, that you have been returned to us, Ventait.” Even though I searched Zef’s words, I found no subtext or hostility. He was kind and sincere, as he always had been. Despite his position, his chains, he truly did seem glad to see the merman returned.

  Ventait had switched his hate-filled gaze from Syleen to Zef, his fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides. His tail continued to flick, as if at any instant he might propel himself through the water and drive his fists through Zef’s sickly form. “You are the one who traded our people to the monsters.”