The Azar Omnibus: The Complete Azar Trilogy (The Azar Trilogy Book 0)

by Grace McGinty

  Jack cleared his throat and continued. “Even as the Fae were mourning their fallen Prince, Brandr was tinkering with his weapons. But the original Djinn could not be put down like dogs. Their immortality was different to that of the Fae, something more primal, more akin to my own immortality, I think. So, he partnered with the Fae’s best sorceress, the former Unseelie Queen herself, to come up with a ritual to bind the weapons to the original Djinn, keeping them permanently paralyzed in the Inbetween. They didn't plan for the Djinn to create their own rituals to release the Djinn, like your fire pledge, but they are only temporary fixes anyway. The ritual temporarily short circuits the original binding, but the older magic soon overcomes the newer ritual and the Original Djinn is forced back into their prison. There is only one way to release all six originals at once.”

  It sounded like every living thing in the forest stilled in that moment.

  “To put them away, they used the blood of six Djinn innocents in the ritual. But to bring them back, you have to sheathe all six weapons in the flesh of an innocent immortal Fae.”

  “What?” Stacia paled.

  “What?” Azar echoed.

  “I’ll do it,” Nevyn said, jumping down from the tree. “Don’t you see? That’s why I’m here, why the Goddess put me here.”

  Azar made a grab for Nevyn and pulled him roughly to her side, in case someone suddenly decided to lunge for him.

  “No damn way! Nuh-uh, no! You can’t and we can’t.”

  She only had to take a look at the somber faces around her to see that they may not have a choice. But she wouldn’t let it happen.

  Chapter 19

  When the Fae finally attacked, all Azar could feel at first was relief. Quickly followed by nerves and then a surge of fear-fueled adrenaline.

  Scouts had them setting up camps in a U-shape around the den, at least two thousand of them, about fifty miles away.

  Too many for the Allied army's numbers to combat hand to hand, and they had nothing useable against them except cold iron swords and a passionate desire to remain free. They'd booby trapped the surrounding forest, but the Fae were hardier than anything a few spiked sticks in a hole could hurt. They could only hope to slow them down, maybe thin their numbers temporarily.

  At the pace the Fae army were traveling, which was extraordinarily fast, they had about an hour before the first sword was drawn. She stood nervously in front of her regiment of Unbound. She didn’t know what to do or say. If this were a movie, she’d give them a stirring soliloquy about honor and freedom, maybe channel some Mel Gibson in Braveheart, but she wasn't that kind of person. She was no one’s leader. But they were all staring at her with scared, expectant eyes so she had to give them something.

  “Look, I don’t know what’s going to happen out there, and quite frankly I am scared shitless. But someone once said that courage wasn’t the absence of fear, it was carrying on despite it. Or something like that. I was never a very good student. But the chances are, someone you know is going to die. Perhaps the guy next to you. Perhaps we’ll all make it through by some kind of miracle. What I want you to know is that what we are fighting for is worth more than my life, or yours. We are fighting for the freedom of our future, so our children won’t grow up as slaves. That, I think, is more important than any one life. But I promise you that I won’t do anything that will get you killed, at least not on purpose.”

  They all just stared at her. Well, William Wallace I am not, she thought. “Plus, we’ll be attached to the Black Prince’s guard, and they are skilled immortal fighters. We’ll be good.”

  Now they looked a little more at ease; she could hardly blame them. She was a novice, despite her suddenly impressive skills with a sword, and the Black Guard were fierce, seasoned warriors.

  Everyone was equipped with cold iron swords that had been shipped in under the cover of darkness a few days ago. They had been training with them for days, as they were weighted differently to steel swords. Hell, few of their army had never held a sword, but they were more reliable than bullets around the Fae, who still fought in the old way, with sword and shield.

  But they had practiced, and they would do the best they could. No one could ask for more than that.

  “Oh, and don't accidentally stab the good guys with your sword," she added as an afterthought.

  “Listen to your Captain,” Hemlock said as he walked in, kitted out for war. He bristled with blades like a porcupine.

  “Ugh, don’t call me Captain,” she hissed at him. She looked at her Unbound force. “Seriously, don't call me Captain!”

  Soon after, Lorcan strode in, resplendent in his war regalia.

  “Him you can call Captain,” Azar said, walking over to Lorcan. “Are they ready for us in the War Room?”

  Lorcan grunted and turned on his heel. She knew that the coming battle was bothering him. How could it not be? Killing off your own kind was hard, she knew. Killing off your family was even harder, even if they were genocidal maniacs. So she just gave him his space.

  The War Room was emptier than she’d ever seen it. Just five people were in there; Killian, Aaron, Mira, Ethan and Tao. She and Lorcan made seven. Each of them would head a battalion, though hers was pretty much just honorary given they were to be interspersed amongst Lorcan’s Black Guard.

  “...we’ll come in from the East, Ethan will guard our flank. I think they will try and surround us, and try to push us back into the dens. We have to prevent that at all costs. I don’t want this fight to take place too close to the dens, but I don’t want to take the fight to them either, spreading out our forces over such a large area would mean losing our defenses.” Killian didn’t look stressed; he looked calm and in control. It was reassuring.

  “Azar, you and Lorcan will take the West. There is a large force coming in from that side, so be prepared. Trust your instincts, and that of the Black Prince. Keep some of your men in reserve incase the battle is prolonged.” He turned and met the eyes of every person in the room. “We will be victorious, but I want you to know that it is an honor to fight beside you all. I’ll see you at the end of the battle.”

  Azar hugged Aaron and Mira. She shook hands with Ethan and Tao.

  “Be safe,” Killian murmured and she kissed his cheek. “You too. No more funerals for this family any time soon, okay. If you see Cy and Darius, you tell them the same thing, okay?” Killian just gave her a smile that might have actually been a grimace. There was a good chance that half their family could be wiped out in this battle.

  Lorcan escorted her from the room.

  She’d kissed Bast goodbye that morning, as the scouts had all been working around the clock to ensure that they had accurate information at all times. At first, they’d tried to call back using cellphones, but the large concentration of preternatural energy was messing with the signal, so they had to do it the old-fashioned way. But she wished he could be with her. He was her partner, and she felt safer with him at her side.

  She walked out into the courtyard with the unusually quiet Lorcan, and found that Quigley, err Lorcan’s Second in Command, had rallied all her troops into rank and file. From the back, where she couldn't see the fear in their eyes, they looked like an almost formidable force.

  The rest of the courtyard was filled with other such groupings, half-shifted Weres pacing like they were caged, barely reining in their desire to hunt. The Adel were dressed in their simple black combat gear that was equipped with some kind of super Kevlar, as were the Unbound. Dressed the same, it was hard to tell the full-blooded Djinn from the Unbound. She was dressed in that same gear, plus her sword sheath complete with Basatine, and a grenade or two tucked in her cargo pocket, just in case.

  Something brushed against her legs, making her start. Oliver, in his jaguar form, let out an amused huff.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be with the other Weres guarding Aaron’s flank?”

  Werejaguar Oliver let out an annoyed yowl, and nudged at Azar’s flank.

  He says he�
��s not sworn to Aaron, he’s sworn to you. It is not Aaron that he loves, it is you, Bast said next to her ear. Bast’s voice was tinged with something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but she didn’t think it was jealousy.

  Azar threw her hands in the air in exasperation.

  “Aren’t you meant to be running the scouts? Instead of doing your jobs, you’re both going to get all up in my personal space, and what? Babysit me?”

  My place is at your side, as is Oliver’s. You are my heart; I would not go into battle anywhere but with you.

  Secretly, she was relieved. She needed him here.

  She wasn’t sure what she did to deserve such loyalty from these two. After all, in the short time she'd known them, she’d led them from one drama to another, but they’d stood at her side through every trial. They weren’t with her because of the ratios of her blood, like her new Unbound brethren. Nor were they with her because they believed her to be the incarnation of some god, like Lorcan and his guard.

  No, these two loved her despite the fear and uncertainty in which she'd always found herself. Her eyes misted, and she sucked in a choppy breath.

  Oliver let out a pained noise and rubbed his face all over her hips and belly, the closest thing her could give her to a hug without knocking her down. Bast gave her butterfly kisses over her cheek.

  She straightened her shoulders and rubbed her eyes with her sleeve.

  “Thanks guys. Now let’s get this shit over with. I need a beer, a pizza and to spend three whole days in my pajamas watching Spanish soap operas.” She looked around for Donovan, but she couldn’t see him. Her heart hurt. She wanted to say goodbye, to tell him to remain safe, but he could be anywhere in the multitude of tunnels in the den. She’d looked for him this morning, but they seemed to never be in the same place at the same time. When this was all over, she was going to crawl into his lap and make love to him for days.

  She cast a look at Oliver, and felt Bast’s reassuring presence around her shoulders. Maybe they’d make Oliver’s cabin a love shack for real.

  Sighing, she nodded at Lorcan, and he whistled and made a swirly motion in the air.

  “Let’s move out!”

  They left the marshaling area with enough contained energy to power a small third world country for a year. She was positioned roughly in the center of their ranks, Bast and Oliver bracketing her side, Hemlock guarding her rear, as well as the mass of Unbound that made up their ranks. There were three rows of the Prince’s Black Guard in front of her.

  Enya was scouting the enemy's position and she’d appeared out of thin air at Lorcan’s side, whispered something, and then disappeared again into the shadows.

  They jogged along at a slow pace, well slow for supernaturals, in the general direction of the reported Fae encampments.

  After about an hour, Lorcan slipped back to Azar.

  “Enya says that there is a small Fae force three miles north. Given the number, it is probably just one of my brothers’ personal guards.” She’d seen Lorcan’s guard fight, and she hoped that he’d picked all the decent soldiers, and his brothers got all the uncoordinated leftovers.

  Hemlock began organizing the Unbound, the Black Guard finding their formation without as much as a word. They spread the Unbound on the periphery.

  “Engage two on one if you can. Do not come between to Fae combatants. It’s a good way to lose a limb,” Hemlock quietly counseled the nervous looking Unbound fighters.

  And between one breath and the next, the enemy force was upon them. The Black Guard closed ranks a little tighter around her.

  “Brother,” said Cian, Golden Prince of the Unseelie Fae, “Mother told me you were batting for the other team, but I refused to believe her. You, who were always spouting off about the oppressive nature of the caste system, coming into this battle on the side of the oppressor? Impossible. But yet here you stand with your merry band of offal,” Cian laughed. He was surrounded by the Golden Guard, who were all females and all had the same feral, battle-crazed eyes. Azar was just glad to see Cian fully clothed.

  “We were not oppressed by the Tuatha De Danann, Cian. We were contained by it, and rightfully so. And you know why I fought against the caste system. It was that system that forced you to stay in the Unseelie Court, under the tender ministrations of our mother. I would have spared you that if I could. I would spare my worst enemy that.”

  Azar noticed that not even Lorcan looked directly at Cian, so he didn’t see the pain and regret in Cian’s eyes, the same loneliness that she’d seen the night they’d broken into the Sidhes.

  “You tried, Brother. Unfortunately, it is what it is.”

  “You were but a babe.”

  “I am an abomination. I am where I am supposed to be. Enough of this. Who is it that your loyal guard gathers around so protectively, if it isn’t their beloved leader?” Cian’s Golden Guard pressed forward and the soldiers around me raised their swords higher, prepared to defend.

  “That’s none of your business,” Lorcan growled, drawing his own weapon.

  Cian whistled between his teeth. “I’m intrigued. I think I shall find out, by force if I must. It must be quite a prize indeed.”

  “I do not wish to kill you,” Lorcan said, and she heard the edges of grief. He obviously felt something for this sad, twisted man, although he’d assured her many times that he no longer had any loyalty to the Fae outside his own guard.

  She would spare him this pain if she could.

  “It’s okay, Lorcan. Let me through. The Golden Prince and I have already met.” When she pushed up to Lorcan’s side, Cian’s eyebrows rose comically high on his stupidly attractive forehead.

  “It’s my favorite Seelie slave girl,” he exclaimed.

  She looked him dead in the eye. “It’s nice to see you again, Cian. With pants on, no less.”

  Cian boomed out a laugh. “Are you really glad to see me fully clothed? Not even a little disappointed?”

  She chuckled despite herself. “Okay, maybe a little. All that gold really washes you out.”

  His smile was truly joyous. “What are you that you can look me in the eye and say these things to me so cavalierly?”

  “Unimpressed?” she countered. It must be horrible to go through life without ever truly being looked in the eye.

  “My, but you are refreshing. Perhaps I should have kept you after all.”

  “Unfortunately, I’m not up for possession.”

  In an instant, he was in front of her, amidst the Black Guard, his hand in her hair in a firm, but not cruel, grasp. “I promise you would enjoy it.”

  Both sides surged forward, and Lorcan’s sword was at his brother’s neck.

  “Let her go,” Lorcan growled, but she waved him away. She had it under control.

  “Like I told you last time, you aren’t my type.” She maintained eye contact. “For one, I don’t like being manhandled.” She lifted her knee, and drove it into his groin. He buckled over, laughing. Why did everyone she kicked in the testicles seem to find it so incredibly amusing? “Secondly, while I’m flattered, I’m taken.”

  In fact, the angry force of nature that was Bast was whipping himself up into a small tornado at her treatment, sending the Golden guard into a frenzy. Oliver was now in front of her, pacing back and forth, his lips pulled back baring deadly jaguar teeth. This was beginning to escalate. If she didn’t end this soon, it was going to end in unnecessary bloodshed no matter what she said.

  “If you are done with your posturing, you should call off your harpies before my boyfriend causes a category six hurricane.”

  Cian gave a command she didn’t understand, and his guard all fell back behind their Prince in near perfect synchronicity.

  “Did he just tell them to heel in Gaelic?” Azar whispered, and Lorcan shook his head, but didn’t elaborate. Oh well, she would ask again later. Probably better to be serene or beatific or whatever else she was supposed to be as a demi-goddess.

  “Look,” she addressed both
of the princes in front of her. “This doesn’t have to end in brother killing brother, Fae killing Fae. In fact, I’d like to get through this day with as few deaths on my conscience as possible. Lorcan obviously cares for you, and that tells me that there is something in you worth saving. So, I am giving you the opportunity to leave, unaccosted and unpursued,” as she spoke, she shifted to her Ifrit form until the last words came through flaming lips. “Because I can promise you this; at the end of today, there will not be an enemy left alive on this battlefield.”

  “A Djinn? No, that’s not all you are, I think. However, as much as my guard and I would rather be in the Sidhes, in bed.” He made it sound like they’d all be in bed together. “If I leave now, and you aren't as victorious as you believe, my punishment for desertion will be far worse than anything your tiny brain could even fathom.”

  Lorcan growled then, low and almost Were like. “We will not lose. Go, little brother. I did not pry mother’s fingers from your throat at birth only to have you die here. Go!”

  Cian seemed to consider it, worrying his lower lip in an almost human gesture that did not fit with his otherworldly looks.

  “I will go. But I am betting my life, and the life of my guard, on your skills, so I must know who you are.” His eyes ran over her face critically, as if he was cataloguing every tiny bump, bruise and scar.

  Azar drew in a deep breath. Her spiel was long. “I am Azar, Councilor for the Unbound, member of the Ifrit, human, and Tuatha Dé Danann races. I am Danu’s chosen one.”

  Cian blinked slowly. And then again.

  “Well. Quite the mongrel, aren’t you? We’ll go. But I hope to see you both soon.” The ‘alive’ was insinuated.

  I will go after them, to ensure they keep their word, Bast whispered to her.