“Medicine time, ladies.” The man’s voice was hollow and scratchy, but something about him corkscrewed into the base of my neck with familiarity.
The women reacted, getting up and shuffling over, their lips smacking. Their next high must be their only escape from this hell.
“My assistant here has helped make them extremely compliant. He’s quite the expert in dens not unlike these and how to make individuals submissive. Over the years he has perfected a special magic-infused opium concoction, crushed into a little pill. Easy, clean, and just as addictive as heroin for both fae and human.”
I heard every word, but my gaze was still locked on the man, mostly blocked by the flock of girls. My heart thumped against my ribs. The stone’s mouth twitched, his eyes on me, watching my every move. He eased back, letting me step forward.
The man lifted his head, his navy-blue eyes finding mine.
With a hiss, my legs stumbled underneath, my feet backpedaling.
“No.” I whispered. “No. It can’t…”
An eerie smile crept across the man’s mouth, hollowing his cheeks even more. He might have been a twisted shell of the man I had known, but I’d recognize those eyes and that evil smile anywhere.
“It’s been a long time.” He set down the tray, stepping from the throng of girls toward me. “Aren’t you going to give your dear father-in-law a hug?”
Holy crap.
Vadik.
He was alive.
I struggled for air. The shock froze me in place.
Vadik. The demon who tricked Ryker’s mother into marrying him. He abused both her and their son until she decided to free them from the demon by sacrificing her own life to veil her baby from Vadik.
It wasn’t until centuries later that the rumors about Ryker having the Stone of Fáil drew Vadik after his long-lost son, using Amara as enticing bait. She fell for Ryker, but at the end, money and power ruled her more than love.
Lars gave Ryker the chance to kill Vadik, but instead, the Viking cursed him to live on the light side, thinking it would rip him apart in a slow, agonizing death.
Less than five years later, the wall between worlds fell. Vadik, not unscathed, had somehow survived. His blond hair and muscular build, once like his son’s, were gone. Now his shoulder bones poked from this shirt, his frame hunched forward, his skin pale and scarred, and a few teeth were missing.
He would be a horror movie’s version of Igor, acting as the mad scientist’s assistant, but what they were doing here went way beyond any horror movie.
“I hear I have a grandson. What’s his name? Wyatt? Little disappointed you didn’t name him after me.”
My muscles clinched around my spine, strangling my nerves. “Do not say his name. Don’t even think his name,” I growled.
“But I have gifts for the boy. You would deny a grandfather a chance to meet his only grandson?”
“I know your type of gifts. You get anywhere near him, I will rip you apart piece by piece.”
“A mother with such rage issues.” He lifted an eyebrow.
I lunged for him, getting farther than I thought I would, my fist colliding with the soft part of his neck. His eyes widened in shock, as though he hadn’t expected me to be able to touch him. He leaned back, grappling for this throat, trying to breathe.
My gaze shot to the stone. Its head was down, its feet shifting, its body jerking like some internal battle was going on.
“Lars?” I whispered, ignoring Vadik hacking and gasping for air. Lars, if you are in there, fight.
His physique stilled, his head slowly rising up, black pits meeting mine. “Lars is dying. Soon he will have no strength left to fight me. I will miss his demon. What true power and darkness he once had.”
Vadik took in a gulp of air, straightening, glaring at me. “That is too good for that bastard. I would love to string him up and peel his skin from his body, sprawling his internal organs on the ground… akin to how it felt when he banished me to the Light side. Then I will do the same to you, extra slow, while Ryker watches.”
This time, my bones were held firmly in place, so I couldn’t respond with my fist.
“Return to your duties,” the stone ordered Vadik. “Some of the fae women need higher doses.”
Vadik snarled but turned back, snatching the tray, and headed through the door he had entered.
Without a word, the stone strode out the doorway, ordering me to follow with a tug of my mind.
Rage bubbled inside, and it was hard to not want to drive a knife into the man in front of me. But this wasn’t Lars, though I doubt any woman in this room saw anything but the King causing their suffering.
We traveled along the hallway again before he went through another door. The large room was set up the same as a training facility. The space crawled with these chimera children ranging from five to fifteen in age. Hundreds of them. There were a few older men in the room helping to train them with weapons and brutal Krav Maga-style combat.
The children looked all wrong: disproportioned bodies, needle teeth, spiked tails, and claws. All of them a product of their fathers. Similar to the original group, they weren’t shape-shifters. Even in the fae world, they would be considered abominations and killed. If the creatures didn’t kill you first.
A girl of around nine stood in a fighting ring, her brown hair tied back. Her forehead and nose protruded comparable to a wolf’s, and her mouth was open in a snarl, her fangs dripping with her opponent’s blood. A group surrounded them, cheering and bellowing. She twirled her long stick with an arrow at the end, dancing toward the black-haired boy. He was around the same age, with eyes and tongue like a snake, brown scales over his face and neck, carrying a pitchfork, the ends like knives.
She feinted to one side, and the boy fell for it. As she twirled, she swiped her stick around her, knocking him off his ass, then jumped on him, her mouth snapping down on his neck and thrashing her head. The boy screamed, a high-pitched, inhuman sound, blood gurgling from his mouth.
Holy shit. She was going to kill him.
“Survival of the fittest. It is the law of nature. Only humans have tried to bend that rule, keeping their sick, old, and weak alive on machines. It is not natural,” the stone spoke into my ear while I watched the wolf-looking girl howl into the crowd.
The roar of noise, the kids cheering for another’s death, resembled a version of Lord of the Flies. I hated that book. This was ten times more disgusting and vile.
Vomit burned in my stomach as the boy tried to dig his nails into her skin and push her away, but she only bit in deeper. He stopped struggling, his body going limp before she rose, her arms rising in the air in a show of victory.
“Stop. I can’t watch this anymore.”
“I forget how fragile you all are.” He twisted himself toward me. “This is only nature, Zoey. A wolf killing a snake.”
“They are still children.”
“They might look the same as children, but I guarantee there is nothing ‘human’ in them. They’ve known nothing else but fight, kill, and train like monsters.”
A girl of four or five brushed past us, her long brown hair pulled half off her pretty heart-shaped face, showing her freckles and green eyes. Even though I knew she was related to me, she reminded me of the little girl locked behind the glass at Stavros’s. Piper, Fionna’s little girl. The same age, build, and brown hair.
The stone turned its head, gaze glued on the little girl. Tension moved down its shoulders, rolling his long fingers into a ball. Emotion flashed in its eyes.
My head jerked up. Dark green eyes snapped to me. “Zo-ey…” He struggled to say my name.
“Lars.” Holy hell. What could I do? How could I keep him here? “Lars…please fight. Stay with me.” I grabbed for his hands, needing to touch him, have contact with the actual man.
“I—I am weak…” He spit out every word, his fingers clinging to mine, as though I were an anchor. “I am trying.” Sweat beaded his brow. “It. Won’t. Be.
Long.”
“No, the hell with that. You are a King. A demon. If we both keep fighting him…”
“You are much…” He grunted, a shiver running through his body. “Stronger…you…fight.”
“No, Lars. I can’t do this without you.” I looked around at the horror show. This was so much more than I could handle, especially when I had limited access to my body.
“I apologize for my weakness,” he huffed, taking a few jagged inhalations. “It can’t ever truly have you.” His grip crunched down on my hand. Hell. I was losing him; I could feel it. He yanked my hand, lifting my attention back to his eyes. His gaze burning into mine. “Hear me.”
“What do you mean?” The stone was doing a pretty good job, and I didn’t even think my punishment had started yet. He was merely playing with me right now.
“It. Can. Offer. You. Nothing.” Lars sucked in, bending over in pain.
“No. Please, Lars…don’t leave me.” It was crazy; I was begging the King who had one time bent me to my knees, scared the piss out of me, to stay with me. But over the years, I came to respect and care for him. He was the reason I had my second Honey House and why Kate could keep doing research.
His hands dropped away from mine, the air in the room stilling.
“Lars?”
Suddenly, a battering ram of energy heaved from him, shoving me off my feet and slamming me to the ground with a painful crunch. I gasped for air, my tongue tasting something bitter and stale.
A robotic chuckle shook Lars’s shoulder, his shoulders rolling back, his chin slowly rising.
Black pupils stared back at me. The stone was back, but something felt different. Crawling back on my elbows, I stared at the man.
“You should be scared, Zoey. What I just did to him…I will eventually do to you.” It bared its teeth. “After I force you to watch yourself destroy all those you love.”
“Wh-what did you do to him?”
“The old King is dead. I got bored of his moping presence.” He took a step toward me, looming over me, then bent down and grasped my jaw painfully. “Squashed him like a bug. Do not try to fight me, too, or you will join him in hell.” His grip tightened. “Let us get to work, slave.”
He jerked my head back, standing to his full height.
“Long live this King.”
Chapter 16
Fionna
“Fionna,” a voice bellowed into my head, the sound striking me like a chunk of ice. I bolted awake.
“Lars?” I sat up with a gasp, choking on dread.
Emptiness scooped out my belly, spreading over my torso like a disease. I grasped my breastbone, trying to find the hole. My throat tightening, panic rising through my shoulders.
“No. No.” I stumbled out of bed, my knees buckling as I slid down to the rug. “Lars!” I screamed, suffering a tear in my soul where we were connected. I pushed against my chest trying to stop it.
“Nooooo!” I wailed, my heart understanding what was happening. Pain hacked a hole in my heart and dampened my head with perspiration, which drenched the back of my neck. My screams tore through the room.
“Fionna?” Kennedy’s voice filtered in from outside. Then Lorcan crashed through my door, my sister right on his tail. “Fionna!” She ran to me, falling beside me. “What’s wrong? What happened? I had a vision you were in pain. Calling me.”
Buckling forward, a wail screeched from me as I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to protect the precious thing connecting us.
My bond to Lars.
I cried out his name over and over. Kennedy curled herself over me, rocking with me. Lars was dying, I could feel him slipping away, peeling away from my soul, leaving me empty. The agony cleaved through me, and the fissure of my soulmate being taken from me nicked the air from my lungs, stealing my breath.
I couldn’t move. Breathe. Think.
I love you, Druid… I felt his words as a sensation against my soul.
A goodbye.
No. Please. Don’t leave me, you bastard, I yowled, not sure if I said this out loud. Nothing felt real or right. Don’t you fuckin’ dare, demon. I will hunt you down myself and kill you.
It was as if I could feel him smile. Then everything went numb.
“Nooooooooooo… Lars!” I screamed, tears rolling down my face, and my fist crashed against the floor. I was vaguely aware there were more people in my room, but I could see nothing beyond the hollow pit in my gut as pain clouded my vision.
“What? What about Lars?” Ember’s voice was full of panic and fear.
I stared at the rug, my eyes trailing the elegant diamond print, my chest heaving. No one spoke or moved, but I could feel each of their stares drilling into my head, as though they could split it open and take out the answer. In that moment I would have gratefully let them, anything to end the pain. I was drowning in the emptiness, and sorrow gripped my legs and pulled me down underneath, where it would consume me.
Piper. She was the only reason I took another breath, forced my body to rise from the floor. A handful of people were stuffed around the entrance, but it was Ember I locked onto. Fear and grief danced in her irises like fire, as if she simply needed me to say the words. Confirm what she already knew.
But the words would not form on my tongue. My eyes watered. I turned my head, staring at the moonlight glistening off the lake. Misery silenced my thoughts and voice.
“No,” she snapped, her voice cracking. “Nooooo!” Eli grabbed her, her body fighting against his hold.
Kennedy’s mouth parted. “Lars?” She shook her head in disbelief.
It seemed impossible that the invincible, indestructible High Demon King was dead. Lars, the man, was ruthless and cruel, but you found yourself admiring and loving him in spite of it. The man who taught me unconditional love that no prejudice or hate could transcend. Our time together so brief, but so deep and true, nothing would ever come close to it.
“Let me go!” Ember wiggled against Eli, her words heavy with anguish. He pulled her to his chest until her fight turned into sobs, her body collapsing against his.
“Fi.” Kennedy cupped my face, twisting me back to look at her, her voice soft. “You’re sure? He’s gone?”
My lips bunched together, swallowing back the blockade in my throat, the river of anguish ready to flood out and submerge the room.
I nodded, my tears dripping onto her hands. Her mouth wobbled, liquid slipping down her face. She pulled me into her and held me tightly.
My body automatically stiffened.
Olwyn never let me show grief. She didn’t hug me or coddle when I came home with a black eye or broken heart. She would tap my chin and tell me to turn the hurt and despair into action.
Don’t cry, girl. Tears are useless. Use their strength here instead. She’d pat my temple.
Looking back, I could see she was trying to make me tough, knowing my destiny would never be an easy one. My fight would bring constant loss and devastation. As the DLR leader, Olwyn’s discipline helped me survive, to do what I needed to do. But none of that prepared me for this. My body curled into Kennedy, wanting to shut down. To disappear.
Piper. You have to keep going for Piper. Lars’s voice hummed in my head, like he was still there, pushing me to go on.
Pulling away, I got to my feet. Eli had Ember pinned to his chest, his arms engulfing her as he rubbed his hand soothingly over her hair. Lorcan crouched next to Ken, holding her. Cole, Olivia, West, and Rez filled the rest of the room, all of their faces reflecting mine: Grief. Shock.
Rez’s watery brown eyes found mine, a strange understanding linking the old and new lovers of the King. She didn’t hesitate to yank me into a hug. I didn’t fight it. Most in this room could sympathize with losing a “mate,” but Rez, having shared that intimacy with Lars, made me feel she could uniquely understand my grief. Even as an ex-lover, she didn’t push me away, but brought me closer to her. I felt our shared understanding in our hug of the man we’d lost.
Eventually,
I stepped back from the siren, peering at Kennedy. “Lars would not want us to wallow. He’d want us to fight. The way we can best honor Lars is to kill Stavros, get our loved ones back, then destroy the stone until it is dust. It will not take Zoey too.”
Kennedy rose to her feet, setting her head high. “I agree.”
“I’ll get coffee.” Olivia tugged at the thigh-length T-shirt she wore to bed. Cole glanced over at her, his eyes skimming her legs.
“I’ll help.”
“I don’t need help, dweller. I’m perfectly capable of getting coffee.”
“I’m sure you are capable of a lot more than that,” he said, scouring his head before he pushed off the wall, heading out without another word. Olivia stared after him for a moment, scowling, then shook her head and followed him.
“I need to check in with Garrett, see if the messages have been received.” Kennedy fiddled with the hem of her Stargate Atlantis shirt, her teeth digging into her bottom lip. Everyone stepped for the door, following her lead.
On autopilot, my emotions dead inside, I reached for a pair of leggings off a chair. I was alive but dead at the same time. Cold. Empty.
My fingers wrapped around the cloth, and I felt something flutter inside my stomach.
As if a dozen daggers were thrust into my gut, digging to the hilt, pain rocked through my body, arching my back. My mouth parted, but only a gurgle escaped as my shoulder hit the floor with an echoing thud.
“Fionna!” Kennedy screamed. I sensed figures moving around, talking, touching me, but the pain cut off all my senses, my system responding to the unbearable agony.
The claws dug in deeper, as though they were trying to hold on for dear life.
Druid… A brush of the word stroked against my soul.
Holy shite.
Lars? Everything in me reached out for him. I felt him pull himself deeper into me, latching on to my soul. The pain transformed into something else, as his soul buried itself in mine, curling up. Seeking safety. Mine leaped and rubbed all over his like a cat welcoming him home.
“Fuucckk.” I rolled onto my back, my nails digging into the floor, my limbs shaking, my teeth digging into my bottom lip. Since Lars and I had “bonded,” I’d always felt a link to him, a piece of him connected to me, but nothing similar to this. The intensity of completely carrying it, not having him buffer it, ripped away my vision. The brutal attack on my senses hit excruciating levels. For a moment I couldn’t see, hear, or smell, but once I could, the pain became pleasure. It reminded me of the time we performed the blood ritual. The exquisite throbbing was too much. I heard the moan come out of my mouth.
Rise From the Embers (Lightness Saga #4) Page 20