The Warlord

by Gena Showalter

  “Erebus sent her to spy on me, just as he boasted. We didn’t ice over in her presence because of a mystical ring.” Again, he directed his statements to his men. “We’ll sweep the palace and the city within the walls. I don’t know what she’s done to strike at us. I suspect she’s helping the phantoms breach our borders without our knowledge.”

  If glares were daggers, Taliyah would be bleeding from multiple gashes right now.

  Which Astra can I tap into?

  Murmurs erupted from the harpies. “A soulsucker?”

  “As in...a phantom?”

  Well, she’d hated hiding her origins. Now the secret was out.

  “Boys, I can verify Roc’s words this once. I’m afraid I did strike at you.” Taliyah exaggerated a wince, all my bad. If she kept talking, she might be able to prove herself independent of Erebus. It couldn’t hurt. “I know, I know. How dare I strike at the ones who conquered my realm and plan my murder? Lesson learned.”

  Did Roc flinch ever so slightly? “You are a soulsucker, Taliyah. How are you able to converse somewhat intelligently?”

  Somewhat? Jerk. “Maybe I’m gifted,” she said with a shrug. “Or special. A new species of phantom, perhaps? Maybe I’m Erebus’s daughter. Maybe he’s perfected the art of making us. Take your pick.” Mixing truth with a misdirection didn’t seem as dangerous as avoiding the truth altogether.

  Pensive, Roc replied, “You aren’t gifted, special or a new breed of phantom. A husk without a soul is always a husk without a soul. You aren’t his daughter, either. Erebus is the essence of death. He has no life-giving seed.”

  Gross. Taliyah vomited in her mouth a little. Roc had no idea he spoke about her father’s—No, she couldn’t even think it. But no wonder the Big E had possessed his brother to impregnate Tabitha and Tamera. He couldn’t get the job done on his own.

  Roc continued. “Phantoms are made the way phantoms are made. The method of creation cannot be altered.”

  “Are you sure? Mortals have babies the old-fashioned way,” she said, “or with the help of science.”

  “Even with science, the same ingredients are used.” He stroked his beard, then flipped his gaze to Mumbles. “Visit the Hall of Secrets. I want a report of any whispers involving phantoms like Taliyah.”

  Hall of Secrets. Never heard of it.

  “I will do this.” Mumbles struck her as lucid, until he added, “Why don’t I remember? The battle raged. She and the girl were in front of me. Then the battle was over. What don’t I remember?”

  Hold up. Could she and the girl refer to Blythe and Isla? Blythe’s victims experienced blackouts all the time...when she possessed them.

  Blythe might have possessed the Astra to round up Isla and escape unnoticed. But how had she possessed the Astra in the first place?

  And, if Blythe got in...when had she gotten out?

  Why am I happy to see you? A question Mumbles had asked on Taliyah’s first trip to the dungeon. Had he felt Blythe’s emotions? Was her sister inside him still?

  Hope flowered, and Taliyah leveled her gaze on the male. Argh! Roc positioned himself between them.

  “What did Erebus order you to do?” he demanded.

  Mind on the problem at hand, T. She couldn’t help Blythe until she’d gotten out of this mess.

  Her neighbors upped their whispers and speculations. Taliyah tuned them out, concentrating on the warrior who was rubbing the bare patch of skin above his heart. Around it, the alevala churned, more agitated than usual.

  “Taliyah,” he snapped.

  “Oh? Were you expecting an answer from me?” His scent infiltrated her awareness, and she dropped her gaze to his mouth. Her shackles clinked as she slinked forward. “Come closer, husband, and I’ll tell you.” Her raspy voice embarrassed her. Onward and upward. “Just a little closer, Roc.”

  He did move closer, shooting out his arm, wrapping his fingers around her throat to slant her face up to his. “You would drink me down if I let you. You would drain me dry.”

  “I would,” she confirmed. Why deny it? “That was plan A, and it was an abject failure.”

  His fingers flexed on her. “You tried to suck my soul?”

  “Oh, yeah. Big-time. Last night, actually.”

  He stiffened further, even as he oh-so-gently traced his thumb up the column of her throat. The tenderness was a shocking contrast to his ferocity. “I felt your attempt. For a moment, my dreams changed.” He offered the words softly, for her ears alone. “Were those your orders? To drain me and keep me weak? Your master should have known better.”

  “Or I acted—act—on my own? I’m so different from the others...”

  A flash of uncertainty, there and gone. Enough to catch her attention.

  She pressed her advantage. “I don’t work for Erebus, Roc. I’m a free agent. How can I prove this to you?”

  “You can’t.” His grip tightened. “You will stay here until I decide what to do with you.”

  Hardly. “If I can mount an escape, I promise you, I will mount an escape.”

  He scowled. “You are defeated, phantom. Accept it.”

  “I’m not defeated until I’m dead, warrior. And even then I’ll keep fighting.”

  A storm cloud of fury, he vanished. His men lingered, projecting varying degrees of concern, before following him.

  Taliyah deflated against the wall. Had she detected a thrum of heat before Roc’s disappearing act? What did it mean?

  Ugh. She was too hungry to process her own emotions, much less his.

  The harpies erupted into rapid-fire questions, going silent when the handsome warrior reappeared. Dark from head to toe. Looking at no one, he claimed a post between the two cells.

  My guard for the night. She sat up, saying, “You’re the repairman, yeah? I caught sight of you a few times when I made my rounds.”

  To her surprise, he replied, “I am.” She’d expected to be ignored. “I bear the ninth rank.”

  “So, last place?” She offered her favorite exaggerated wince while drawing her knees behind her. “That’s gotta sting.”

  “It’s deserved. Once, I led the army. I was the first.” He delivered the information with a tinge of shame rather than pride. “My brother acted as my third.”

  “You’re Roc’s brother?” Well. Sure enough. They shared similar facial features. Did this man love his brother as much as Roc loved him, or did he harbor secret jealousy? “Pro tip. Your bragging needs work.”

  “I wasn’t bragging. I was confessing.”

  No, he wasn’t jealous. The siblings clearly shared the same sense of honor and respect. A sense she admired, despite their treatment of her. When it came to her sisters, from Blythe, the oldest, to Gwen, the youngest, Taliyah would willingly, happily suffer for their good.

  “Astra—Hey, what’s your name?” Had Roc told her? She couldn’t remember.

  “I am Celestian. Ian.”

  “Ian. Why does Erebus hate Roc and vice versa? What started their war?” Would he tell her?

  “Erebus hates all Astra,” he said, “but whoever is undergoing their blessing task bears the brunt of his focus. The fact that Roc is Commander ensures he is doubly hated.” Ian shrugged. “Erebus first hated us because his father loved us.”

  All this effort for jealousy? Maybe in the beginning. Guaranteed his motives changed when the Astra killed his brother. Now he sought revenge. Loss for loss. And oh, wow, what a beautiful glow Ian possessed! Her mouth watered and—

  No! Taliyah turned, ending the conversation. No big deal. She had this under control.

  “Female,” Ian said, his tone curious, “I have a question.”

  “I’m sure you do, but I’m busy thinking.” Of someone tasty... Someone not too many feet from her, perhaps, in the other cage... Mara might make a delicious dessert.

  A groan clogge
d Taliyah’s throat. She’d never eaten one of her own—she wouldn’t. Probably.

  Ian asked his question anyway. “How did you draw the stardust from Roc?”

  A query she couldn’t resist. “How do you think?”

  “I honestly don’t know what to think anymore,” he admitted. “If you knew how precious stardust is...how few of us make it...how much some of us yearn to make it...”

  There was an excellent chance Ian considered himself part of the some. “I don’t think you’re ready for the answer, warrior.”

  “Tell me.” He stepped forward, gripping the bars, his curiosity seeming to veer into desperation.

  If she weren’t on the verge of starvation, she might have retorted, Keep ordering me around. It works so well for your brother. Instead, she sighed, shrugged and told him the truth. “I breathed.”

  21

  Roc blocked every voice from his head and focused on the realm frequency he’d picked up from Taliyah’s hourglass tattoo.

  He needed no key to enter a realm, only a link. Had she lied about the location and the friend she’d supposedly met, as he suspected?

  He appeared in the so-called Realm of the Forgotten, halfway expecting an ambush. Instead, he stood at the edge of the world—at the end of a winding road that stretched over a churning body of water, leading to a steep cliff with a massive fortress carved into its side. Above it, the inky sky offered no hint of light, save for the freezing fog curling into dizzying swirls.

  It was a sky Roc recognized. Part of an original realm rather than the duplicates he created for war. Original realms took ages to make and always carried the DNA of their maker. The secrets hidden in their heart of hearts.

  This one had been created by Erebus.

  Roc’s hands curled into fists. Whatever world the god birthed, he ruined with unsustainable weather patterns and that swirling fog.

  Icy rage gobbled up what remained of his hope, Taliyah’s connection to the dark god confirmed. An hour ago, he’d believed he’d planned for every eventuality. Never had he suspected a phantom possessed the ability to hide in plain sight, driving him insane with lust and possibilities, tricking him, minute by minute.

  How had Erebus made someone like Taliyah?

  What if she wasn’t made? Could she be his sibling, perhaps? Chaos knew of her. Had even mentioned her by name. But...no. If she belonged to the god’s familial line, Chaos would’ve stopped the wedding. The honorable mentor Roc served wouldn’t send a daughter to her death. Chaos wasn’t like Roc’s parents.

  There must be another explanation for Taliyah’s condition.

  Someone somewhere possessed answers. Someone always had answers, no truth ever fully erased. If anyone had spoken of Taliyah in dark places, Roc would find out. The Hall of Secrets collected whispers and confessions. A person needed only to sift through the countless voices to learn the most horrifying mysteries. Roux, even in his compromised state, sorted through the deluge better than most.

  Focus. Who would Roc find inside the fortress? His nemesis, ready to gloat? He hoped so. He craved a battle.

  Materializing in the entry, he paused and took stock. In the distance, a clock ticked and a fire crackled. No footsteps sounded. No voices drifted to indicate Erebus remained.

  Roc flashed from room to room, scanning and memorizing, collecting data. There was no sign of Erebus or his phantoms. Not right now, at least. The god had definitely been here, his scent fresh. So was Taliyah’s.

  The urge to commit violence consumed him. The master and his puppet had met here, along with two others. Harpies, most likely. Did they discuss Roc’s unprecedented reaction to Taliyah? The stardust he’d left on her skin? Did they laugh at his preoccupation with the woman?

  How he cursed the day he’d spotted Taliyah in the market!

  Ferreting out her bedroom wasn’t difficult. Frostberries saturated every inch. A stench of betrayal.

  Betrayal? When she has only fought to survive?

  Yes!

  As a matter of duty, he examined this room more intently than the others. What better way to learn more about his enemy? The tidiness of the space fit her personality, but not her origins. Phantoms never worried over making a bed or polishing weapons before hanging them in designated spots. Nor did phantoms care about touches of whimsy. A plaque on the wall read World’s Okayest Sister. A second wall decoration was a painting of stick figures framed in gold. The artist’s name was scribbled.

  He stalked into the closet to assess the garments she preferred when she wasn’t tormenting foolish husbands. Combat gear and more combat gear. Nothing for seduction or relaxation.

  How sad.

  How foolish of him to care.

  Phantoms had no feelings. Although...Taliyah might. Had she faked her love of family, her loyalty to the harpies? He had doubts.

  So different from the others. Faster, stronger and, yes, smarter. Charming without effort.

  How did Erebus command someone like her? Could he? What if she operated outside of the god’s orders, as claimed?

  Did she choose to serve him?

  Bile rose up in Roc’s chest. What if he won her from—No! He wouldn’t entertain such a temptation.

  Obviously, she’d pretended to desire him. Was she truly his gravita?

  He rifled through the dresser drawers, where he discovered sexy scraps of barely-there material he refused to imagine her wearing. Part of her arsenal against him?

  His fingers curled around a pair of ice-blue panties nearly the same shade as her eyes. If Erebus sought to tie Roc into knots, mission accomplished. Roc hadn’t felt this conflicted since...

  His most hated memory rose, and he pressed the panties against the alevala in development. A memory of terrible death, incredible loss and unforgivable betrayals.

  He captured and cast out the thought before he was forced to relive every horrifying moment.

  Though he wanted to shove the underwear into his pocket, he dropped the garment and flashed to his bedroom in Harpina. He eased onto the foot of his bed.

  The trip to the Realm of the Forgotten had done him no good. What was he going to do with Taliyah?

  Roc rested his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands. Despite everything, he desired her still, his need burning as hot as ever.

  While chained and splayed on a dungeon floor, she’d gazed at him with defiance. How could he not want her back in his arms?

  He never should have flashed closer to her. Never should have clasped her throat as she dared him to act. Even now, he fought the urge to return. To splay her lithe body beneath him and touch and kiss until she fully surrendered to his will.

  He thought he might do terrible things for such a thing.

  What has she done to me?

  Halo’s hard voice lifted Roc’s head. —At least forty phantoms breached the palace. Looks like they’re headed to the throne room. I don’t know how this happened. I never saw them approach the palace or the wall. There’s no sign of Erebus.—

  He rose to steady legs and pushed Taliyah from his mind. War came first. War always came first, no matter how exhausting. The moment he exalted something above it, his past actions would cease to matter; horrors committed for the greater good would suddenly be mistakes.

  Roc didn’t have to wonder how Halo spotted the invasion while standing on the wall half a mile away. The male used mystical binoculars acquired with Roc’s fourth bride, the lenses peering through every obstacle.

  Had Taliyah brought the fiends here? She must have. But how had she done it?

  He did his best to mitigate his anger and frustration.

  —Hold your positions. I’ll take care of the problem myself.—

  He palmed two three-blades and flashed to the action, finding forty-three phantoms. Females dressed in widow’s weeds and starved. They walked in circles in the cen
ter of the throne room, muttering, “Get to the throne room, embody, walk around, tell Roc. Get to the throne room, embody, walk around, tell Roc.”

  Another message from Erebus. One he had no wish to hear. The god coveted more of his misery, nothing more.

  Roc flashed to the two closest phantoms and rammed a blade in the underside of their chins. Both creatures dropped, soon to evaporate. In unison, the other phantoms turned toward him before freezing in place, preparing to deliver the missive.

  “I know every move you will make.”

  Roc didn’t hesitate; he struck again and again and again, thick mist coating the air. The phantoms spoke until the very end.

  “I know every move you will make. I have the Blade of Destiny, after all, and you have—” The last phantom died before the rest escaped her.

  The Blade of Destiny. He’d known the loss would haunt him.

  A thrum of aggression brushed his skin. Roc spun, catching a phantom by the throat. Where had she come from?

  Her milky eyes were set in solid-black sockets. Graying lips formed a wide O as she sucked at the air between them. She clawed at his arm, desperate to reach him.

  Why didn’t Erebus send more like her, his usual MO? While the Astra were strong enough to block ten, twenty, fifty phantoms from feeding at a time, they couldn’t block an entire horde.

  Blood poured from his wounds, and her suction cup of a mouth suckled faster. Disgusting. Was this the fate awaiting Taliyah, if she went without nourishment?

  There was so much he didn’t know about her. Did she operate alone, or did she have help? Roc tensed. Were there others like her?

  Did any serve in Roc’s army? It was...possible.

  —Did you see this phantom enter the throne room?—He threw the question at Halo.

  —I did not. I got busy performing a sweep of the palace, on the hunt for others.—

  How had this fiend managed to hide from them both?

  Roc stabbed the phantom in the temple, then waited, on alert. Minutes passed. No other phantoms appeared.

  —She seems to be the last,—Halo informed him, broadcasting the information to everyone at once. —I’ll keep a closer watch.—