The Warlord

by Gena Showalter

  Such loyalty. His admiration for it, for her, only expanded. Could she ever feel so fervently for Roc? He longed for such a time.

  The fact that she’d shared so much with him, well, Taliyah must be as confused as Roc. The realization helped settle him further. At least he wasn’t in this alone. “Trust me, Taya. I’ve learned my lesson. I have come to believe there are two kinds of phantoms. I won’t harm those like you, unless attacked. You have my word.”

  Her sigh fanned over the ridges of his stomach. “There you go again, saying sweet, sexy things.”

  “You’ve searched for her with the crystal?”

  “Yes, but I haven’t found her.”

  “If she exited Roux, as he suspects, she didn’t do it here. We would have found her already.”

  “I know, but I must complete my search. She has a daughter, and she wouldn’t leave the girl behind. And for all we know, there are other harpy-phantoms I know nothing about. Although...”

  “What? You can ask me anything.”

  “What if Blythe hasn’t...moved out?”

  He stroked his beard, pensive. “It isn’t probable. If she’s as indomitable as you, however, it’s possible. Before we go poking around in Roux’s head, let’s scour the entire palace and market. If she’s sleeping in the duplicate, we’ll find her.”

  A pause. An inhalation. “Okay, yes. You can help me with my search.”

  Roc felt his chest swell with pride. She was choosing to trust him with more. I must be her consort.

  If ever she accepted him as such, he would...what? Promise not to slay her when the time came?

  Agitated, he scoured his free hand down his face.

  She petted his chest the way he loved. “You need to speak with your men about what happened in the garden, yeah?”

  “I do.” Among other things. Less than an hour ago, Roc had almost claimed Taliyah’s virginity. A welcome and horrifying admission, but there it was. The truth was unalterable and undeniable. Had she given permission, he would’ve breached the barrier and come inside her with no thought to the blessing or his men.

  A mistake he couldn’t make a second time. Because he would slip again. He knew this. Why deny it? One day, Taliyah might say yes.

  No virginity, no General. If she lived past the month.

  A barbed lump grew in his throat.

  “Uh-oh. I sense some drama coming on,” Taliyah said, before kissing the pulse at the base of his throat. “What’s this about?”

  “My men aren’t going to be happy with me.” But he wouldn’t stop this. He must prepare for every eventuality, even sex with his gravita.

  “Well, go get the conversation over with. I’m staying here to practice removing my ring. Any protests about leaving me on my own?” she asked, lifting her head to meet his gaze.

  “No protests.” Never again. “But I hate the thought of you in pain.”

  A relieved, teasing smile lit her face as she sat up. “Are you sure you don’t like me in pain? Because I specifically remember a time when you held my wrist and—”

  “We don’t talk about that moment in history,” he interjected, guilt and shame colliding again.

  “Uh, that doesn’t sound true at all.” Those ocean-water blues glittered down at him. “I defeated you that day. I’m going to brag forever.”

  Minx.

  “Are you sure you want to forgo the ring before the month’s end? If we’re attacked again and you’re incapacitated...” If she were gravely injured, unable to protect herself...

  “I’m sure.” Seemingly timid, she asked, “Are you afraid you won’t desire me anymore if I remove the ring and you ice over?”

  Roc came up fast, pressing a swift kiss into her soft lips. “I enjoy everything you do to me.” Even that. He got to melt them both. “Will you feed before I head out?”

  “No. I probably won’t feed later, either.”

  He sighed and forced himself to rise to dress before he gave in to the urge to flip her over and feast, tempting her to do what he wanted.

  After donning a clean pair of pants and boots, he weaponed up, then returned to the bed. He smoothed a lock of silvery hair from Taliyah’s brow. With the touch, slight though it was, a rosy shade spread over her skin.

  Perhaps crawling back into bed—No! “I’ll be thinking of you while I’m gone,” he admitted. “Will you be thinking of me?”

  She wrinkled her nose the way he liked. But then, he was beginning to suspect he liked everything about her. “Roc, darling. I’m going to be screaming. Of course I’ll think of you.”

  He almost grinned. There was none braver or more resilient than his woman.

  Pride straightened his spine and puffed his chest as he flashed to the throne room and eased onto the cathedra. He broadcasted a message to his men, even those in the duplicate realm. Only two would be left out.

  —Vasili, watch the wall in the duplicate realm. Ian, watch the wall here. The rest of you assemble in the throne room now.—

  Silver and Halo appeared first. Then Sparrow, the Peacemaker. Bleu, the Spymaster. Azar, the Memory-keeper. Roux materialized last, his red-rimmed gaze clear.

  Could the other phantom be in there, as Taliyah suspected? Everything Roc knew of Astra and phantoms told him no. But he understood so little about Taliyah and her kind.

  He looked over the rest of his men. None appeared confused by the summons. A few evinced concern. Most revealed dread. Only Halo conveyed anger. Roc’s second feared a repeat of the past, with good reason.

  Despite their array of emotions, no one spoke. The honor of beginning the conversation fell to the Commander, and they awaited his first words. He suspected they cared more about the problem of Taliyah than Erebus’s stone.

  Very well. “Long ago, Solar refused to sacrifice his bride. Each of you witnessed my response to his failure.” Roc pounded a fist against the patch of bare skin above his heart. With his next words, he gave voice to the worst memory inside a head filled with countless wars, cold-blooded murders, vicious deeds and vile decisions. “I killed his bride. I’m also responsible for the death of Commander Solar himself. But even still, I was too late to stop the curse. We were condemned to five hundred years of defeat.”

  No one moved an inch.

  “I want to be with Taliyah,” he announced. “If she’ll have me, I will be with her. In every way.” Let there be no mistaking his meaning.

  When many of the men opened their mouths, he raised a fist. A bid for silence. Lips sealed shut, warriors awaiting his words.

  He nodded in acknowledgment of their restraint. “I know if I do this, we’ll lose the weapon and Erebus will gain it, as he gained the Blade of Destiny. That’s why I seek a unanimous agreement from you first. In return, I’ll willingly accept...the last rank.” His decision solidified. “I won’t challenge Commander Halo for five hundred years.” He would do this. He would exchange less for more—for Taliyah.

  Halo’s anger dissipated, replaced by bafflement. “You want her that badly?”

  If the way inside Taliyah Skyhawk was five hundred years as this man’s errand boy, so be it. A small price to pay. “I do.”

  His second-in-command assumed a battle stance. “In twenty-five days, you’ll do your duty? You won’t hesitate to slay the phantom?”

  He...couldn’t answer that question honestly. Because he didn’t know. What he could promise? “I will always do what I believe is right.”

  “A phantom is worth this?” Silver asked.

  “This one is.” Taliyah was so much more everything than Roc had ever expected for his gravita. Matching wits with her wily mind was a drug. Her unshakable will astounded and humbled him. He was never not aware of her scent and taste. Every time he warmed her, he thrilled. The mere thought of her ignited a fire that burned through his control in record time.

  She had done the
impossible. She had brought the most powerful Commander in existence to his knees. And he was willing to stay there.

  “So I ask you,” Roc said. “Who agrees?”

  * * *

  Taliyah gave herself a grand total of two minutes to remember the ferocity Roc had displayed when he’d wanted inside her...to lament and relish her cracking resistance to him.

  Would she have the strength to refuse his advances a second time? Part of her still tingled from his touch, reckless for more.

  Only part? She laughed without humor.

  She’d have to be more careful going forward. Right? She shouldn’t give her virginity to him, ruining her dreams. But...why couldn’t a General have a man? Why, why, why?

  When the two minutes ended, she booted the Astra from her head. War was afoot, and she must be at her best. So, she would train as she had always trained. Lots of pain, lots of gain.

  Abandoning the warmth of the bed and the haze of Roc’s scent at long last, she bounded to her room to dress in battle gear, boots and weapons. From now on, she would practice without the ring a minimum of three times a day. She’d start with a minute. Quick and easy. A confidence booster.

  Decided, she grabbed the stopwatch she’d found in a nightstand. It belonged to General Nissa’s sister, who’d stayed in the room before Taliyah.

  Once she discovered a way to save everyone, she might turn the room into a gym.

  With the thought, supposition became plans etched in stone. Yeah, she was going to do it. Not the gym, but the saving. She would save everyone. Find a way to be with Roc, salvaging their relationship for however long. Circumvent the curse over him and his men. Free her harpies. Avoid hibernation.

  The tasks mounted, the stakes critical. But when had she ever shrunk from a challenge? There would be no more weddings. No more sacrifices. No more blessings or curses. There was a way; there was always a way. You just had to find it.

  As Taliyah moved to a spot clear of furniture, her stomach churned. Inhale. Exhale. A familiar pep talk rang inside her head. The one she’d chanted every day at harpy camp, as she’d learned to kill her foes more efficiently.

  She glanced down at the ring and gulped. Do it. Do it now. What are you waiting for, Terror? Do it! Dooo it.

  Taliyah did it. She activated the stopwatch...and removed the ring. Immediately the screams tore through her ears at full volume. Pain engulfed her, so much pain. Excruciating. All-consuming. Warmth poured from her eyes. Her vision blurred.

  A minute might’ve been too ambitious. She squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her hands over her ears, the ring slipping from her grip. “No!” Taliyah dropped to her knees and blindly patted the floor. “Make it stop, make it stop!”

  Where was the ring? Where? No, no, no. A scream barreled up, but she swallowed it. If she screamed, Roc could come. If Roc came, training would end. Something cold grazed her fingers. There! She snatched it up and, with a trembling grip, shoved the band into place.

  Silence arrived, and she sagged against the floor, blindly patting for the stopwatch. Thirty-three seconds.

  Tears of frustration gathered. Thirty-three might as well be thirty, and thirty might as well be zero. Not good enough!

  She banged her fist into the floor. Why did she hear those screams? Why didn’t Blythe? Where did the screams even come from? Every phantom in every world, as she’d always imagined?

  With a screech, she sat upright. Never accept a picture of defeat.

  Taliyah reset the timer. She hadn’t lied to Roc. The phantoms had worked her over today. She’d stood no chance against them. An intolerable outcome, since she would be fighting many other phantoms soon. Probably even Erebus himself. So, she would remove the ring once more—and go two minutes.

  She climbed to unsteady legs and jutted her chin. The wife of the Astra Commander was the future harpy General. Two titles without equal. She would do this.

  Nothing would stop her.

  30

  The search for Blythe and Isla proved disappointing and uneventful. For hour upon hour, Taliyah glimpsed faces through the crystal. She saw women she knew and those she didn’t, but not her sister or niece. They must have gotten away, but oh, what she wouldn’t give for proof. At least the other harpies had healed from their injuries. They slept peacefully, even comfortably, on cots the Astra provided.

  As she and Roc wound through the empty streets to return to the palace, she glimpsed a patrol unit marching by.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll arrange a meeting with Roux,” Roc said. He had remained at her side the entire day, not to keep tabs on her but to shield and protect. To comfort and encourage. The difference in him, in his treatment of her, left her reeling. The monster she’d sworn to kill had become a...friend?

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “I’ll also send spies to search Nova, with orders not to harm her.”

  “That’s a sweet offer, but Blythe will view your men as enemies. There will be a fight, and someone will die.”

  “Even if they bear a message from you?”

  “Maybe even then.” Roc looked good today. Well, he always looked good, but he looked really good right now. He exuded no animosity or malice. Only contentment. Despite the cooler weather, he’d opted to go without a shirt—of course—donning only leathers. A fashion choice she gave five orgasmic stars.

  At the moment, she kinda matched him. She wore a barely-there halter, her wings wonderfully free, and a pair of leathers, with thin, lightweight pieces of armor strapped to each of her limbs.

  He clasped her hand, drawing her to a stop when they reached the heart of the courtyard, where the most famous landmark in all of Harpina grew. The Tree of Skulls.

  “Let’s not hasten to the palace just yet,” he said, surprising her. “If Blythe is inside Roux, she’s safe. I’d like to hear about Harpina—your Harpina. Tell me what it’s like as if I’ve never before visited. Take me to your favorite places. Let me view the world through your eyes.”

  “Like we’re on a date or something?” Taliyah had never actually gone on a date. To grant the first one to this smoldering mountain of a man... Yes, please! “All right. Fine,” she said, and he grinned. “You talked me into it.”

  For just a little while, they could pretend. He was a normal man, and she was a normal woman, every mystery between them revealed. There was no curse or sacrifice, only admiration and desire.

  “You picked a good place to start.” She motioned to the Tree of Skulls. The enormous structure was wider and taller than many skyscrapers in the mortal world, blooming with red flowers shaped like, well, skulls.

  Usually countless harpies gathered here to carve the names of slain enemies into the trunk. A beloved tradition. Afterward, carvers enjoyed a day of shopping and pampering with friends. Nearby retailers offered everything from coffee to vibrators.

  He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, making her knees go weak. “Tell me all about it.”

  Though she hated to sever contact, she released him to climb the tree, perch in one of the branches and dangle her legs from the side. Well, well. At this height, she had a full view of him and all his tattooed goodness.

  Gorgeous warlord. His hair had grown some, giving him the same boyish air she’d noticed the night she’d sneaked into his room. He seemed lighter, as if his mantle of discipline no longer proved such a heavy burden to bear.

  This morning, he’d removed the alevala over his heart, just as he’d done every other morning, but this time he’d let her inside the stall while he did it. She’d asked a million questions, but he’d answered none of them. Out of respect for him, she hadn’t glanced at the image when it landed on the floor fully intact. He’d tell her when he was ready. Just like she’d tell him about Erebus when she was ready.

  Foreboding prickled the back of her neck. Would either secret tear them apart?

&nbs
p; “Soon,” she said, forging ahead, “these flowers will become bloodfruit.” A tasty citrus with a soft pink skin and a pulpy crimson center, which acted as medicine to harpies no longer able to consume blood because they’d lost their consort or—

  The thought skidded to a halt. Harpies who’d found their consorts lost the ability to drink blood from anyone else. When they tried, they vomited. Taliyah had vomited soul after feeding on the berserker. Because she’d already met her consort? Could she consume blood and soul only from her consort now?

  She wheezed her next breath, the next question stinging. Had she already met her consort?

  “Taya?” he asked.

  With great effort, she shook off her concerns. No worries. Not today. This was her first date, and she wouldn’t ruin it with suppositions about lifelong mates.

  She plucked a bloom and tossed it his way. “Erebus and Asclepius slaughtered thousands of harpies here. The tree grew from the blood-soaked ground.”

  “A rebirth of sorts,” he said, smelling the petals.

  Yes. Very much so. She liked that he understood the importance the tree represented to her people, and to her.

  A mix of hot and cold wind blew through the area, and he frowned. “I must admit, I’ve never gotten used to the seasons of Harpina.”

  “No one has.” There were eighteen seasons in total. Winter, Fool’s Autumn, Fifth Winter, First Spring, Spring of Indifference, Hurricane, Tornado, Third Spring, Pre-Summer, Summer, Mid-Summer, True Autumn, Post-Summer, Second Winter, Third Winter of Fall, Fourth Winter of Spring, Final Summer and All Seasons Day, which lasted six weeks, except in August and never on Sundays. “As a girl,” she said, patting the limb, “I called this my thinking spot.”

  Interest perked him up. “And what did Little Taliyah ponder?”

  Pulling her legs up, crouching, she admitted, “She pondered running away.” A secret she’d never shared with another.