And then there was Addie, who actually and literally turned into a Nightmare upon provocation. She sprouted horns and everything. Kat smiled at the thought. In truth, she was absolutely stunning in her Nightmare form, but she knew that Addie was just as self-conscious as any woman. It was part and parcel. And hence, she and Siobhan made a good pair.
In the last bubble were the two main healers of the dozen. Diana Chroi the Goblin Queen – and Evangeline. The Dragon Queen.
My little girl.
She was all grown up now, that was for certain. The two women grasped each other tight, as sisters would, and this time it was magic that poured forth from both of their forms to create the shield that carried them safely through the miasma of emptiness between worlds. Diana was now a fae, made such by her joining to the Goblin King, the most powerful fae man in existence. Goblin strength was immense and indescribable. It was why the kingdom had been separated from the other fae realms, and its king banished long, long ago. As his bride, Diana inherited this tremendous power, and she utilized it now.
Evangeline was half Nomad and half Legendary dragon. Her strength was monumental, just like Diana’s. She was also a trained warlock. These two were quite the pair in their ability to destroy – and yet it had been their ability to mend that had drawn them to one another. Katrielle could sense that. It was their shared desire to fix the world, to see it healed, that led them to each other and afforded them the strength they now exhibited.
The five bubbles filled with the twelve Queens joined in a floating group that reminded Kat of a pack of hovering fireflies and suddenly picked up speed. Katrielle tensed and prepared her magic. She was the only one with her eyes open. She was the only one who could react if something unexpected occurred.
What am I saying? She suddenly thought. This is all unexpected. This is nuts. But that was life. Especially in their world.
And that’s when it hit her. This wasn’t just the Queens returning to their world. From the way the emptiness looked just then, a little lighter than before, a little more jagged, she would guess this was actually something else entirely. This was two worlds colliding.
The rest of life would not even notice the impact. But as a Nomad, as a Traveler, she would. And so would the Queens. If she didn’t protect them, they might very well be destroyed.
This is going to hurt.
Chapter Forty-three
The two of them had landed about ten minutes ago in a field just outside Chicago. Helena had recognized it at once. It was Helena’s field, in her back yard, in the smaller suburb of Davenport, Illinois. The land had been owned by her family for generations, and when her parents died, she inherited it.
They’d had enough time to get off the ground, dust themselves off, and recognize the field before they’d begun talking about the blast that had thrown them there. Helena knew what had happened. She wasn’t even Queen yet and she knew. She was such a powerful player on their chessboard, the chaos of two worlds colliding could not erase the knowledge from her mind.
“The funny thing is,” she told him now as she pulled away from him and moved to the large shining metal object that had somehow made it back from Lucky’s bar and now waited for her in the front row of the field. “I remember aspects of both of my existences. And then there are things that I can’t remember at all. It’s like my two lives... just became one.”
William watched her in silence. She was so beautiful. Her hair shimmered where it fell in waves around her, and when she ran a hand through it, the few pieces of grass it had picked up were brushed out like magic. Her form-fitting clothing was dusty and torn from their tumble, but it only made her appear more like the battle-worn archangel she reminded him of.
He watched the strange almost sadness pass over her exquisite features and wanted to hold her. But while his gaze chained her to him, following every tiny move she made, he gave her the space he knew she needed right now. Her worlds had come crashing together in the course of seconds, and she was aware of it. This was not a simple matter.
For his part, William remembered everything. He remembered his life as William Balthazar Solan – his long, long life. And he remembered his life as Will Slate, one-half of the Slate Cousins, the rather infamous wardens. Time had melded together Helena’s existences. But his were as always separate and un-erasable. No matter what world he was in or what form he took, he was and always would be the Time King. His history would forever remain written.
“I only remember my parents as a warden. I remember that entire childhood. And yet somehow I possess the knowledge that Ethan was the same person in both worlds,” she laughed softly and shook her head, dropping it in introspection. “My werewolf best friend.” She fell silent. Then, “It’s so bizarre,” she said softly.
“Time has given you a gift,” he told her just as softly. “It has made certain that you retain the awareness of both lives. But made it easier for you by sewing them seamlessly together. It should be impossible,” he smiled a small smile. “But Time has managed it. No doubt out of love... and hope.”
She looked up at him.
Time was a strange entity, and it worked in mysterious ways. But there was no mystery in this. Time wanted her just as badly as he did.
The safe dimension he and Helena had been secured in by Time was shattered, blown wide open. What was more, the pieces of that world had collided with the dimension he’d left behind. And now the two were one.
The people of both dimensions would experience the collision like a dream or déjà vu. It would happen quickly, and then it would be gone. Some people and some creatures would become combinations of their two incarnations. They might have one parent from each world. They might possess half the characteristics of one of their lives and half of the other. Or it might be seventy-thirty. Or ninety-nine and one.
In other cases, one incarnation would utterly cancel out the other. But in every aspect, everything both sentient and inanimate in both worlds would bind together to form an entirely new dimension.
Almost no one in this new world would realize this had happened. For them, there would be no tossing about, no hard landings, no lightning storms or earthquakes. It was a blink and nothing more. They were fragile and short-lived, and thus blessedly immune to the knowledge of what had occurred.
But for the rest of them? For those who comprehended the intricacies of multiversal goings-on? They were so very few and far between and so surrounded by the protection of their magic, the chaos of entropy couldn’t reach them in time to erase their memories. Hence those memories remained as indelible as their histories. They were the Nomads, the Travelers, the Kings – and the Queens.
“You know…” said Helena suddenly, turning away from him to focus on the metal object they stood beside. “Like anyone, my memories from my early childhood are foggy at best.” She stopped and smiled to herself again, but this smile was bigger. She was clearly recalling something that was not foggy at all.
William’s ears pricked. She was about to tell him something about herself, and he very much wanted to hear it. She would always have his undying attention, every last ounce of it.
“But there’s something that sticks out in my mind,” she told him. “It’s part of the reason I am who I am, actually.” She stopped and looked up, pinning him with a meaningful look. “Not what I am,” she clarified. “Just who.”
Then she returned her attention to the metal object. It was a car.
It was the car. It was “Angel,” the ’67 Shelby in shimmering black and emerald green, perfect and beautiful. And now that William was whole again, he appreciated it in more ways than one because it was not only Helena’s car. It was a replica of his own.
Time had returned it to its proper owner. It was another gift. Time had an agenda.
William felt his resolve harden as his attention focused and his senses absorbed everything about Helena Dawn. As far as having an agenda was concerned, Time wasn’t the only one.
Chapter Forty-four
She could feel William watching her. His attention had a weight to it, physical and real. Even now, after he’d seen all of her, and done quite a bit too, it was humbling to think that a man as monumental as William found her that interesting.
“She said, ‘Helena, never fall in love with a man who’s in love with his car.’” Helena smiled and glanced over at William. “She was doing the dishes at the time, and I remember each dish hitting the water with more force than necessary. Some would bang against the metal of the sink. She was pretty pissed.” Helena continued around the car, then stopped in front of it and crossed her arms over her chest. “She said, ‘There’s no competing with the car, angel. You’ll both grow old. But while you become the antique, the car will become a classic.’”
William cocked his head to one side and regarded her with a glint in his jade colored eyes. The corners of his mouth were turned up. “I know a way around that,” he told her.
“I’m not finished,” she said, cutting him off. Besides, she knew what he was going to say. Now that she remembered who and what he really was, she also knew what he was going to offer her. She felt it in her heart.
Maybe that was why she kept talking.
She lifted her chin. “That’s why I decided that I would be the one in love with the car,” she said defiantly. “Then I would never have to fight with it for a man’s attentions. He could be the one to grow old and become the antique. My car would be the classic. And I would be behind the wheel, driving the entire time.”
Control. That was what she’d fought for all her life. Control over what happened to her and the ones she loved. It was why she’d followed in her father’s footsteps, why she policed the paranormal realms for those in charge and never stopped long enough to consider the effect it had on her existence. Nor had she stopped to ask why it was the way it was to begin with.
“So you began… fixing up cars,” William said, finishing her story for her with a gentle tease. She looked up as he turned in the field and his gaze roved over the lines of cars in rows across the grass. They filled an entire acre. “Or one car in particular,” he said.
They were all Shelbys. They were all the exact same car. Different paint maybe. Some with leather, some without. Some with flames up the sides and others with stripes. But they were otherwise identical.
No one knew this was what she did, this was where she came, and this was how she dealt with her obsession. This was how she maintained control.
And now that she looked out over the plethora of perfectly restored 1967 Ford Mustang Shelbys, she realized she’d been out of control the entire time. For two reasons: One, this was crazy. And two, this was William’s car. She’d been competing with fate all along and hadn’t even known it.
Now she was mad. She turned her gaze down at the car, so gleaming and gorgeous. It was her latest addition to the army of perfect vehicles born of her magic. But this one with the green flames had felt special to her. It was her favorite. She’d even given it a name. Angel.
Angel had been her mother’s nickname for her. Perhaps not entirely original, but when she’d said it, it felt good.
“You’re no angel,” she whispered to the car. In her imagination, the shining black beast grinned cockily up at her and winked. Even the car had more control over her life than she did.
William slowly strode around the car, his long legs carrying him toward her while his eyes kept her where she was. When he looked at her like that… she felt the chains of his magic tying her down.
“You are real, Helena. Your life, your past.” He shook his head, his eyes glittering. “It all happened.” He stopped a few feet away, giving her the space she needed like he knew she needed it. “The fact that it happened in another dimension makes it no less real. We?” he said, gesturing to the world around them, “We’re the alternate dimension to other worlds. Everything is relative.”
“Thanks, Einstein.”
“I’m not finished,” he continued teasingly, his deep voice and timeless accent smoothing out the edges of her anger as he crossed his sculpted arms over his vast chest and continued around her. “The dimensions have collided,” he said, looking at the grass. “Time separated itself and then slammed back together. Things are different now. Aside from your special case alone, nothing is ever mended to perfection. There are always scars.” He stopped and faced her. “And a select few of us will notice those scars.”
She knew what that meant. Only certain people would be powerful enough to know that the status quo of the world now was not the way it had always been. The Time King was one of those people.
“And so are you, Helena,” he told her as if he knew her thoughts.
She looked away, turning her gaze nervously to the car. Her hands were shaking, a small tremble that sabotaged her calm veneer. So she shoved them into the pockets of her jacket, and turned her back on him entirely, closing her eyes to think.
“Become my queen,” he said, his lips at her ear.
She jumped, but his strong arms slid around her, holding her fast. He’d moved in so quietly, and so quickly. He was green lightning and the emerald fire on the sides of her car.
Helena looked at those flames and thought of his eyes and found herself weakening into his embrace. She relaxed there and let him hold her for a moment, shutting her eyes again to experience the hard warmth of him.
When she wanted to turn around and face him, he finally let her. She placed her arms against his chest and leaned in to press an ear to it. For some reason, she wanted to hear his heart.
There it was. It was a slow and steady rhythm, utterly normal at first. But if you listened close enough – and if he allowed you to hear it – you would catch the deeper ticking of a primordial clock. The sound was distant and soft and unimaginably ancient, but she heard it. Time was the blood that flowed through William’s vessel and continued the immortal beating of his heart.
She remembered that about him now too. She knew that she’d had other lives, many before the one she knew now. She’d been reincarnated over and over again for the last several thousand years. She knew he was the Time King, William Solan, the oldest being in the multiverse.
Become my queen. His words echoed in her thoughts. “I don’t know how,” she finally told him, her eyes still closed, her ear still listening. Then she opened her eyes and lifted her head to look up at him. She had to crane her neck. He was so tall. “Time runs through your veins, William. Not through mine.”
Chapter Forty-five
From the moment of his inception, Fate had assigned Cain’s identity to him. Cain had been given no choice in the matter. Everyone else had a choice. They might not choose whether to be born as dogs or cats, cows, bugs or humans, but what they did with the forms they were given was more or less up to them.
Cain on the other hand had always been the exact same thing. Over and over again.
He would never understand why he’d been allotted the emptiness that filled him. What had he done to deserve it? But that was how it always was. There were no reasons. Not for anything. There was simply nature, the entropy that wreaked havoc within it, and the Fate that dealt it out, good or bad.
Some animals were born with missing limbs or even chromosomes. Sometimes plants didn’t grow when they were supposed to. Sometimes it didn’t snow in winter. And Cain had been created with a terrible, yawning vacuum inside him that hurt like a bitch and made him crazy.
It made him do equally crazy things. And
it made him barely care.
It was just that bad.
There was only one thing in the cosmos capable of filling that vacuum and ending that pain. That’s what he’d been told, that’s what he believed, and that was what he’d fought for over and over again. Every time he was reborn, every time the fight saw him back to the starting line, he set his sights on the same goal and pined like a fucking nightmare for the day that this would all be over.
But the rules were cockeyed. Nothing made any sense. There was confusion batting around in the red and the black of his brain.
He had been close to an end once, or so he thought. Helena had come to him after lifetimes of denying him. But confoundingly, even with her by his side the pain hadn’t ended. The killing hadn’t stopped. Cain’s empty, cold essence had leaked out uncontrollably and destroyed legions. Ultimately, Cain had descended further and further into the madness of what he was – and what he could never be.
He was convinced now that he’d simply done it wrong. Maybe it hadn’t worked because she hadn’t truly loved him. Maybe she hadn’t really chosen him. Maybe she’d chosen Solan and was somehow withholding her power from him, her companionship, her life.
Life.
Son of a bitch, he thought. That was it.
As he floated on the outskirts of the dimension, he realized that’s what he’d done wrong before. He hadn’t taken from her that which flowed through her veins and fed the beating of her heart. He hadn’t taken her life – he hadn’t taken her blood.
Hence she had never become a part of him, not fully. She had never actually joined with him in a way that could physically fill up that space.
Of course, it wouldn’t have occurred to him that this was what he needed, not in any of his other forms. They’d all been human, more or less. Humans didn’t generally think about ingesting other people’s blood. But Cain thought of it now.
The Time King (The Kings Book 13) Page 25
