Lord of Chaos (The Dragon Demigods Book 7)

by Charlene Hartnady

  Nia

  I’m so nervous. I haven’t worn anything this pretty in a very long time. I feel awkward. Twelve insisted. She told me I looked amazing. I could only hear my heart beating like mad in my ears. I didn’t hear what just went down after Death said what he did. From the looks on everyone’s faces, we definitely walked in on something. Why does Death want me to fall in love with Rage? What is he up to? I don’t trust him. Do the dragon demigods plan to use me next? I thought I could trust Rage. Maybe I was wrong.

  “Fuck off!” Rage mutters to Trident. He looks pissed off. His eyes are dark. The scar cutting through his brow is even more pronounced against his pale skin. His shirt is soaked through with dark blood. It’s sticking to his broad chest.

  “I have a huge favor to ask,” Death says to Twelve, who is apparently his stepmother. This surprised me since she doesn’t look old enough, but who am I to judge. She’s been really sweet to me. I’m cautious, but I like her. I mean, she’s pregnant, so how dangerous can she be? I’ll keep my guard up, since we’re in the Underworld.

  Death makes a face, “We need to stay the night. Would that be okay?”

  The night? No! What?

  “Sounds wonderful,” Twelve says. “What shall I have our chef prepare us for dinner?”

  “Surprise us.” Death lifts his brows.

  Twelve clasps her hands together, looking excited, “I’m thinking five courses. Nothing too crazy.”

  Death smiles. “Sounds fantastic. You’re an amazing hostess.” I get the feeling he means it.

  Hades walks back inside, carrying a tray of drinks. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted…” He looks around the room at all of us. “What sounds fantastic?” He tries to smile and fails.

  “I invited everyone to dinner, my darling.”

  “Isn’t that nice.” The smile is more of a grimace. Hades doesn’t want us here almost as much as I don’t want to be here. This might be a safe haven from Gaire, but it feels too much like ‘out of the frying pan into the fire’ for my liking. Everyone chats for twenty minutes, and then we are summoned for dinner.

  It’s a tough evening. The small-talk is like chalk on a board. Thank god for Trident. He keeps telling these silly stories that make me laugh no matter how hard I try to keep a straight face. Twelve is also making an effort. She’s being a gracious host.

  Rage doesn’t so much as make eye-contact with me. He barely eats. I wonder if he is more badly injured than he looks. He’s probably wondering what he got himself into. I don’t think he was expecting Gaire to be as…terrifying as he is. The thing with Rage is that he has no idea how powerful he is. No idea how much Gaire fears him. I may have been helpless and in so much pain I could barely move, but my eyes worked just fine. I could see it. Gaire usually plays with an opponent far more. Normally when the sword comes out, it’s right at the end…or as close to the end as possible. It’s only after he’s toyed with his victim. Made them bleed and beg. I couldn’t help but notice how the sword came out awfully quickly. Too quickly! Gaire is afraid of Rage. I made the right call when I had to choose an ally. At least, I think I did. I don’t trust myself as much as I want to. I’ve made errors in judgment.

  Twelve takes a final bite of her dessert and pushes her plate away. “That was one of the best panna cottas I’ve ever had.”

  “The berry compote made it.” Trident licks his lips. “The shortbread crumb was a fantastic addition for a crunch element. The black sesame seeds…” He widens his eyes. “I have to take my hat off to the chef. I want that recipe for my new restaurant. It opens in a couple of weeks.”

  “Trident has several restaurants and nightclubs,” Death explains, putting his napkin on the table. He starts to fold it into squares.

  “Oh, how interesting.” Twelve dabs her mouth with her napkin. “I will ask him to write it down for you.” She yawns. “I’m afraid this pregnancy is taking it out of me. It’s hard work growing a little cherub.”

  More like a little demon.

  Hades beams. “My boy is going to be big and strong.” He winks at Twelve. “That’s why he’s taking so much out of you.”

  “You mean your daughter is going to be big and strong.” Twelve smiles.

  “I mostly have sons.” He puts his arms around his wife. “I’m almost one hundred percent sure we’re having a boy.” He puts a hand on her belly.

  “I think you’re wrong,” Twelve says; she yawns again. “I know you will be happy, no matter what.”

  “Of course, I will.” I somehow don’t buy it. Hades wants a son. He’ll be disappointed if the baby is a girl. Might even eat the girl-child when Twelve isn’t looking. I wouldn’t put it past him. I’m not as naïve as I once was. Hades is pure evil. I know the signs.

  “I’m afraid it’s past my bedtime,” Twelve says. “There’s a whole string of bedrooms down the hall. I had my staff put fresh towels and toiletries in all of them.”

  “Wait a minute…” Hades has his eyes narrowed.

  “Now, now honey, I invited them all to stay. They’re our guests. I want to show off how well our chef can prepare an Eggs Benedict.” She smiles at Death. “Let’s go to bed while I still have some strength.” She winks at her husband.

  Hades grins at her. It’s the first real smile I’ve seen all night. “Okay, babe.”

  “Eggs Benedict, my favorite,” Death says, ignoring any reference to sex.

  Hades glowers. His whole stance is tense.

  “I’m glad you’re coming to bed with me,” Twelve says in a singsong voice, her eyes on Hades. “My back is killing me, and you give the best rubs.” She presses her hands into her lower back, wincing. Then she winks at him again.

  Hades keeps his narrowed eyes on Death. I have a feeling there will be repercussions for bringing us here. It makes me wonder what’s in it for Death. Why is he helping me? I trust him less and less, even though he seems nice. He might be the nicest person on the planet; pity his will is not his own. “Of course, sweets,” Hades says, turning his gaze to Twelve.

  We all say our goodnights, and they leave.

  Rage pushes his hand through his hair. It’s unruly from him doing that all night. What is he thinking? I can’t gauge.

  “The two of you should share a room,” Death looks from me to Rage and back, “and the two of us will do the same…for safety’s sake,” Death says, glancing over at Trident.

  Rage looks like he’d rather swim in shark-infested waters than share a room with me. He nods once, anyway. His jaw is tight. His whole body is vibrating with energy.

  I’m tempted to ask to swap out for Trident, but I don’t want the big lug to get any ideas. I also feel safest when I’m with Rage. More than anything, I want to talk to him. I want to find out what the hell is going on. “Do we have to stay here?” I blurt. I already know the answer.

  Death’s face is unreadable. “What else would you suggest? Where would you rather go?” He sounds irritated. “None of us actually wants to be here, Nia. The other option is taking you back out there to the slaughter. You’re not ready to face Gaire.”

  “I might just take him this time,” Tri says. “I’ll be—”

  “He’s too fucking strong,” Rage says; his face is like a mask.

  They’re right. I must sound ungrateful. Like a spoiled brat. I take a deep breath. “Thank you for helping us, Death. I wish there was another way.” I look around the room, feeling a chill race up my spine.

  “There is another way.” Death looks pointedly at Rage. They lock eyes for longer than what would be considered normal. They’re having a silent conversation or a standoff. Or something!

  “Let’s get some sleep,” Rage finally says.

  Trident cracks some silly joke, but no one laughs. I think he’s trying to defuse the tension. He means well. We mumble our goodbyes as Trident and Death take the first room.

  Rage and I keep walking and walking and walking. There are at least twenty doors down the hallway. The floors are gleaming marble, with a long red ru
g over the top. There are a dozen, or so, paintings of regal-looking kings and queens on the walls. They’re either posing as a couple, or individually and wearing old-fashioned attire. Upon closer inspection, I realize that they’re all of Hades and Twelve. What the…? I smile to myself at how conceited they are. This place is massive. The multitude of chandeliers look like they might be made of real crystal. There isn’t so much as a speck of dust anywhere; it’s spotless. There’s a large, white bust at the end of the hallway. It’s Hades, wearing a crown. It’s a bit freaky and over-the-top for my taste.

  Rage points at the door to the left. “This one okay?”

  “We’re far away from the others.” I suddenly realize that we’ve walked all the way down the long corridor, right to the end.

  “I think we’ll be fine. We’re safe within the castle walls. I trust Death,” he adds, like he can read my mind.

  “We probably don’t have to share,” I say. “I can take that room.” I point to the one on the opposite side of the hallway. “We can leave the doors open or something.”

  “If something were to happen to you… No…we’re sharing.”

  “As long as you’re sure?”

  “I am.” He sounds sure, but he looks put out.

  I walk inside. The vast room has high ceilings, which have been painted to depict a full-scale battle. There are men on horses wearing helmets. They have spears and swords. They’re locked in in combat. Again, it’s well done, but not my style at all. There is a thick rug on the floor. The colors are reds, golds, and whites done in various fabrics, including thick velvet. It’s gaudy but somehow works.

  The four-poster bed takes up a good portion of the room. I think six or seven people could sleep on the thing in relative comfort. A sofa and a wingback chair face a large fireplace. There’s a huge gold-framed mirror hanging above the mantle. I see clean clothing hanging over a desk and chair on the other side. Did they prepare all of the other rooms down the hallway as well? Or did they somehow know we would pick this room?

  I notice that Rage is pacing. He’s trying to make it look like he’s checking out the room. I can see that’s not it; he seems agitated. He peels off his ruined shirt, turning to me.

  The slash across his chest is scabbing over, which is good. “I think I’m going to take a shower, but it can wait if you need to use the bathroom first.” He points at the open door.

  I shake my head. “I had a shower earlier before putting this on.” I look down at the dress, feeling silly for wearing it. “I wouldn’t mind brushing my teeth. I’ll be quick.” I’m trying not to stare at Rage. I’ve seen him without his shirt plenty of times. I’ve seen him naked, for goodness sake. Why am I feeling this tightly wound up inside? That strange feeling in my belly is back. Did I ever feel this way with Gaire? I don’t think so. This isn’t the same as it was with him. Not even close. I’m not the naïve girl I once was. I won’t make the same mistakes. I need to be even more on my guard, though, because I’m more attracted to Rage.

  I take my eyes off him and head into the bathroom. It doesn’t take me more than a minute to hunt down what I need. I do what I need to do and head back to the bedroom. Rage’s shoes are next to the sofa.

  “What are the sleeping arrangements?” I ask, looking over at the sofa.

  “We’ll figure it out in a few minutes.” He starts walking towards the bathroom. “I’m hitting the shower. I’ll be quick.”

  I notice that his jeans are half undone. His eyes…they’re… I’m not sure what I’m seeing in them, but my belly is flip-flopping to the point that I’m slightly nauseous. Maybe it was the glass of wine with dinner. I don’t normally drink alcohol. It shouldn’t affect me since I’m a shifter. Our metabolism is too high. Then again, I don’t normally eat that much either. The food was rich. I realize he might be waiting for me to answer, so I nod. I don’t trust my voice.

  I contemplate making a bed for myself. I’m hesitant to take the dress off, which is stupid since Rage has seen me naked on numerous occasions. Again, being a shifter means I’m not generally twitchy about such things. The dynamic is suddenly feeling weird between us.

  I go over to the desk and chair. I glance towards the bathroom as I do. I catch sight of Rage inside the shower since he hasn’t closed the door. The glass is already quite steamed up, but I still get a glimpse of his naked form. That tightening inside me is back. I feel weird between my legs. It can’t be sex I’m craving. It has to be intimacy. I haven’t been with anyone in over a year. My life has been miserable. ‘Sleep-with-one-eye-open’ bad!

  There is another dress hanging over the chair. It’s pink and white, with hints of light gray, and is very pretty. There is a frill at the top. I think it’s supposed to be worn off the shoulders. There’s a conservative slit up the side. I see a clean shirt for Rage, and that’s pretty much it. Nothing for me to sleep in. I never wear clothes when I sleep. Why am I being so weird about it all of a sudden?

  I spot a jug of water and pour myself a glass since my mouth is feeling dry.

  “We can share the bed,” Rage says from behind me.

  I almost jump out of my skin. I clutch my chest. I turn and see Rage leaning against the doorjamb. He has a towel low around his waist. There is a light smattering of hair from his belly button, all the way down.

  I take a big sip of the water, putting the glass down with a clunk.

  His shoulders are broad. His arms have to be carved from stone. My mouth goes a little dry despite just having had water. Rage is incredibly sexy. I’m noticing big time. Not that I didn’t notice before, because I did. I would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to have picked up on how gorgeous he is. Something has shifted. It’s making my pulse race.

  Rage sighs. “I think the best way to proceed would be for us to have sex…here and now.”

  I can barely breathe. I can’t talk. I’m trying to pull my thoughts together. His tone is so matter-of-fact he could just as well have said, ‘let’s go and watch a television show.’

  I probably take too long to say something because he goes on, “Sex with me…well…it won’t be good. I need to warn you. In fact, it’ll probably be downright fucked up. Gaire will seem like a saint once I’m done with you. If it has to happen, then…” He still looks like he would rather do anything other than be here with me. Like he would prefer to stick pins in his eyes and slice open his balls with a paring knife than have sex with yours truly. Rage shrugs. “If it has to happen, then…so be it!” He sighs again, sounding hard done by. Poor baby!

  My chest is heaving. “No,” I push out, folding my arms across my chest.

  He frowns. “What do you mean, no? Fuck, Nia! I thought this is what you wanted.”

  “Firstly, I refuse to fall in love with you, so whatever plan you and Death were hatching is a no go.”

  “Fall in love…?” Rage is shaking his head, looking completely perplexed. Maybe I got the wrong end of the stick. Stranger things have happened.

  “Yes, fall in love. I heard him telling you that me falling in love with you would be the best thing…it wouldn’t. Not for me! I won’t do it. Gaire must die, and I will never love again.”

  I see his face soften. “Firstly, the last thing I would want is for you to fall in love with me. I can’t ever reciprocate, so it would be just plain wrong. So no, I wouldn’t want that at all.” He shakes his head. “Secondly, if you fell in love with the right person. Someone who didn’t take advantage of you…you could have a good life, Nia. Not everyone is like Gaire or me.”

  “You are nothing like Gaire,” I retaliate immediately.

  Rage laughs. “I’m five seconds away from being Gaire. No…worse! Any given day and at any given moment. Five seconds. That’s why I’m the ideal candidate to beat him.”

  “I don’t believe it! I won’t!”

  Rage walks right over to me. I can smell soap. I can smell him. “Believe it, sweetheart. I’m fucked up. My power is chaos. It can’t be tamed or controlled, and neither can I. I learn
ed that a long time ago.”

  “You killed someone once,” I whisper. I know what messed him up. Make no mistake, this poor, sweet man is completely messed up. You don’t get eyes that haunted for no reason. If I opened his closet, an army of skeletons would fall out.

  I watch him recoil. He even takes a step back. I watch his eyes cloud. He nods once. “I don’t want to talk about it, but yes. I killed someone, and I could have killed many more—”

  “You didn’t, though.”

  “I was stopped, or I would have. There’s a difference between having restraint and being restrained. How do you know about my past?” He cocks his head, looking at me with an intensity that roots me to the spot.

  “I’ve heard things. Rumors.” I shrug, trying to play it down. When I see his expression, I stop. “You used a huge amount of power – an off-the-charts amount. You did so in one solid burst, and that doesn’t go unnoticed.”

  “What rumors? Who knows?” He narrows his eyes. “Who noticed?”

  “The Underworld knows. They sent a Cerberus to investigate who was responsible.”

  “A Cerberus.” I see him touch his forehead; his mind is in overdrive.

  I nod. “They’re badass hellhounds.”

  “This one had a couple of heads with glowing red eyes.”

  “I heard it clawed your face.” My eyes are on the scar.

  “I was in a bad mood. I had just…done a terrible thing. An unforgivable thing. I lashed out at the creature and got this for my efforts.” He touches the scar again. “It was deserved. Beast should have torn my head off.”

  “There are very few creatures who can beat you. You’re too strong, Rage. Back then, you weren’t as good at keeping your powers under control. That hellhound wouldn’t have stood a chance. It defended itself and ran.”

  “Do I get to keep this scar as well?” He touches the faint pink marks on his arm.

  I shake my head. “If a hellhound is in its true form, even non-humans will scar for life. I was in my dog form when I gave you that. If I’m bigger, badder, with glowing red eyes, be very careful. We’re quite deadly to humans and non-humans alike. Worse than silver.”