The Warlord

by Gena Showalter

  Roc did a double take. “She did? Why?”

  Shrug. “I was fifteen, and I’d just come home from a successful vampire raid—they’d taken some of our girls to feed on, and we slaughtered them all. I had a history paper due the next morning, so I came here to figure out a topic when suddenly I got hit with a tsunami of panic. Was this going to be my life? Killing, losing friends in battle, then coming home and acting as if nothing had happened? The expected temperament for a General. At the time, my future seemed...too much. I contemplated running somewhere no one knew me. To just...be.”

  He listened, hanging on every word. “What changed your mind and kept you here?”

  “Family.” She leaped onto a higher branch. “I have baby sisters. The twins were five at the time. At ten, they were to be sent to Harpy Camp to learn to fight, just like I was. The wrong leader takes people down the wrong path. If something happened to my loved ones because I refused to do my duty—to fulfill my destiny...I would never forgive myself.”

  “A selfless leader, even then.” Paling slightly, he asked, “Being General is your destiny? You’re sure of this?”

  “I am.” And your dissatisfaction? What of that? “I was born to rule.”

  Can’t have the crown and the man. You know this.

  “I must have been...right?” she asked.

  Appearing distressed, he said, “You are the only one with the answer.”

  Well, he wasn’t wrong about that. “What was fifteen-year-old Roc like?”

  He held up his arms, and she willingly jumped from the branch. Catching her by the waist, he eased her to her feet. As her body grazed his, a moan lodged in her throat.

  Hands sliding over her, eyes twin flames of gold, he said, “Fifteen-year-old Roc was training in a sightless, soundless void, dreaming of a time he would meet his gravita.”

  * * *

  And now you have her.

  He had a family. A wife he had yet to claim. He needed to claim her.

  His talk with his men had gone better than expected. For a higher rank, each male had agreed to relinquish the weapon prize. All but Ian...at first. His reason had astonished Roc.

  You will make a terrible ninth, Roc. I don’t want that for you. But I don’t want you without your gravita, either. So I’ll do this. I’ll agree. Let’s hope you never come to regret it.

  Though Roc yearned to kiss Taliyah in the glow of sunlight, he merely took her hand and led her toward the empty shops. “I’d like to speak with you about something important, Taliyah.”

  He’d hoped to wait for the most opportune moment to bring this up. As she’d shared tales from her childhood, however, fear took root inside him. Why not do this now? She deserved to make the choice; he had no right to make it for her by keeping quiet. Because she couldn’t make a choice without options.

  “Uh-oh. You used my name.” As they strolled, she rested her head on his shoulder. A perfect fit. “All right. What’s up?”

  “I have a confession.” Here goes. “I don’t need to sacrifice a virgin, only a bride. By sacrificing a virgin, I receive a special weapon on top of the blessing. If the bride isn’t a virgin, Erebus receives the weapon instead.”

  She yanked her hand from his and glared up at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’ve been running a side hustle all this time?”

  “Not on purpose.” Messing this up.

  They’d reached the Well of Wanting, and he took a moment to center his thoughts. Harpies used to come here to make a wish and toss a coin into the water. Some of those harpies received their wish. Most received a warped version of it. None had ever known what they would get until it was too late.

  He almost tossed in a coin and requested a do-over with Taliyah. How could things start off worse?

  “Have you ever tossed in a coin?” he asked.

  “Once,” she admitted. “I requested a new sword, and I got it. Right through the gut. But we’re not talking about that. I’m not over your confession. You let your other brides try to seduce you, hoping to save themselves from death?”

  He bristled at that. “I did, and I won’t carry guilt for it. Before the wedding, I told them I couldn’t be seduced. Is it my fault they chose not to believe me?”

  “You could have told them sex wasn’t a lifesaver.”

  “Should a Commander ever explain his thoughts to a foe?”

  “Are they really a foe or a means to an end?”

  “They get my army if they succeed. They are foes.”

  She sputtered for a moment, pointing a finger in his face, then retreating, only to get in his face again. “I hate when you make sense.”

  The fire in his blood died. “I’ll never understand you, will I?”

  “Probably not.” With a sigh, she deflated. “Why are you telling me this? I’m your foe.”

  “You know you’re more. You know I desire you,” he told her, suddenly hoarse. “I want to be with you. I crave you more than I’ve ever craved anything. I need to save you, if there’s a way. I yearn to save you, even if there isn’t. I’m willing to give up the weapon for you. I just want you.”

  The rest of her anger dissipated, leaving a conflicted female with troubled ocean-water eyes. “My virginity and future in exchange for a weapon?”

  “That isn’t... I’m messing this up worse than I imagined.”

  “Wrong. The truth is messing everything up. I suppose I should be flattered. You desire, want, crave, need and yearn for a disgusting phantom.”

  “You are not disgusting,” he burst out. “The problem was never you. The problem always lay with me.”

  Bit by bit, she softened. “I admit I want you, too. Okay? Does that make you happy? But,” she added, “I won’t rewrite my dreams. I will be General.”

  “Of that I have no doubt.”

  Pleased with his confidence, she wound her arm around his, snuggling into his side and nuzzling against him for warmth. They resumed their trek.

  “How can I be with you and be General? All other Generals had possessed the strength to say no to the men they’d wanted.”

  “That isn’t true. Your General Nissa wasn’t a virgin.”

  “How do you even know that unless... Is there something else you need to confess, Roc?” She gritted out the question.

  Sheepish, he told her, “She slept with Ian, often. He approached her before our invasion. She wasn’t a virgin the first time.”

  “Nissa and Ian... My world is suddenly topsy-turvy. But this just reinforces a General’s need to stay away from horny men.”

  “A friend is just as likely to betray a General as a lover. Why not have both?”

  “Argh! I mean it, Roc. Stop being logical.”

  “How can anyone be General when there’s no General to fight?” he said, pressing. No topic had ever meant more. “An acting General must take the reins before a new General can be named a new way. Why must the new leader be a virgin?”

  “Because...because...tradition!” she shouted, as if the word carried significant weight.

  “What if some traditions are unfounded? How many other Generals allowed the present and the future to eclipse the past?”

  “And if you forgo the tradition of the ceremony?” she quipped.

  He heaved a breath. “What’s the purpose of this particular tradition?”

  “The General gives her body to her people,” she grumbled as she calmed.

  That, at least, he knew how to counter. “I give myself to my men without denying my body’s needs. Why can’t you? Why can’t there be a new breed of General? A new regime with modern laws?”

  Her claws embedded in his bicep. “I should risk everything for the man who will kill me in twenty-four days? And you do plan to kill me, if you can’t find a way to save your men. Do you deny it?”

  Desperation shredded his mask of calm, un
til he felt as if he chewed on glass. He couldn’t offer her reassurance because he didn’t know what he’d do at the appointed time. “I’ll do everything in my power to save everyone involved. I won’t stop until I’ve found a way.”

  “I...need to think about this,” she said, and it was a better response than he’d expected. “You know what really sucks, though? I’m sacrificing a dream. You’re sacrificing a dumb weapon.”

  He wouldn’t tell her about his deal with the others. Wouldn’t add that kind of pressure to her.

  They entered a part of town known as the Green Light District. According to flashing neon signs, Anything goes! Karaoke bars abounded. So did happy-ending massage parlors, where patrons punched their attendant. The harpy version of a happy ending.

  As they rounded a corner, ice glazed his arms, and he cursed. Phantoms.

  Roc withdrew two three-blades. Taliyah reacted to his sudden aggression and palmed daggers. Together, they halted.

  There, at the far end of the street, congregated at least fifty fiends. All were females dressed in widow’s weeds, of course, sporting a firstone necklace to prevent the Astra from flashing.

  His ears twitched, and he homed in, listening more intently. The phantoms chanted, “Go to town, walk around, tell the girl. Go to town, walk around, tell the girl.”

  So. Erebus had a message for Taliyah. What would it be? What could the god say to incite more misery?

  “Stay here,” he commanded, summoning posts to lock the phantoms in place. He stepped forward.

  “Oh, no, no, no.” Taliyah jumped into his path. “That isn’t how this is going to work. This is the perfect practice herd to bone up my skills. I’m doing the killing.”

  This idea he liked. The more prepared she was for the next attacks, the safer she’d be. He slapped the hilt of a three-blade into her palm, saying, “Don’t stab yourself.”

  She flipped him off as they strode forward side by side. “Trust me, I know the effects of trinite. A shot to the heart is supposed to kill me for good. Having fought the other herd, however, I’m skeptical. I shouldn’t die like other phantoms. I’m...me. And I’ve recovered from a thousand other things.”

  “Is this how you focus on a fight? Get your mind on your job—staying alive.”

  “Sir, yes, sir.” She offered a jaunty salute, only appearing halfway mocking. So, he’d clearly made progress. “Let’s skip 101, and go straight to the advanced class. Any tips for the teacher’s pet?”

  Hundreds. But few involved the battle. “If a phantom disembodies to avoid your strike, don’t change your position. It—she is coming closer. Keep stabbing.”

  “Or I could disembody with her and take her down in spirit form? It’s a skill I’ve always hidden. Maybe it’s time I show off. It’s worth a shot, anyway.” Taliyah bounded over before he had a chance to respond.

  She delivered a flawless first strike, hitting her mark: a straight shot to the heart. As the phantom dropped, Taliyah spun, coming up behind the next one, three-blade already in motion. Contact. The second phantom dropped, beginning the process of evaporation.

  The others sensed her and halted. Quieted. In unison, they pivoted toward her to relay their message. “Will you truly ruin your dreams for the man planning to kill you, Taliyah Skyhawk?”

  Hate Erebus. Hate the Blade of Destiny.

  Ready to feed, the phantoms attacked her in unison. Taliyah stutter-stepped before going low, avoiding their grasping hands. There was a thoughtful glaze in her eyes, the wheels in her mind obviously turning. She pulled her next strike, and the next, working her way behind a phantom.

  He frowned. Why did she do this?

  Roc rolled his weight onto his heels, preparing to launch forward and offer aid.

  “I think they’re harpies,” she called. “I might be seeing wings under those dresses.” Blink. She vanished, not flashing but misting to escape a tangle of arms and legs. Blink. She reappeared behind the farthest fiend, away from the others, and ripped the back of her gown.

  Taliyah froze and gasped, allowing two phantoms to ghost closer. Embodying, they crashed into her. She let them. Because of their origins, she’d stopped playing offense.

  “They are! Let’s capture and confine them,” she called. Because of course she did.

  “Never tell me I do nothing for you, wife,” he grumbled and made his way over.

  31

  Days passed. Ten of them, actually. To Taliyah’s surprise and appreciation, Roc kept his word and allowed her to meet with Roux. Though she’d questioned him, slapped him around and shouted to Blythe, her sister had made no attempt to communicate. Maybe she wasn’t in there.

  Afterward, she’d retreated to the bedroom and fell into Roc’s arms, forgetting her disappointment for a little while.

  To her added surprise and appreciation, he never pressured her for sex. As he waited for her to render a decision, day by day, hour after hour, he never mentioned the possibility again.

  Did his mood darken while he waited? Oh, baby. Dark only scratched the surface.

  At first, all went well. Each morning, they woke and bathed together. He removed his alevala, asked if she wanted to feed, and when she declined, he pouted but said nothing else as they dressed and headed off to accomplish their respective tasks. In the evenings, when they came together again, they acted like long-lost lovers who’d finally found each other. Orgasms abounded. She might have giggled again, without his soul or his seed.

  Each of those ten days, he labored over the altar for several hours. He labored on it even now. Did she understand the need to do so? Definitely. At the appointed moment, some kind of sacrifice had to take place. But oh, wow, she resented his job, too. And as her mood darkened, his got worse.

  He’d kept his word and sent his best spies to study sacrifices, loopholes, blessings and curses. He’d left Harpina to meet with other gods. He’d called in favors and chased every possible lead. He’d even requested a meeting with Chaos.

  The god had yet to respond. Taliyah had gone ahead and requested a meeting, too. Because why not? She’d been ignored just as soundly.

  She spent her days ravaging the palace library, determined to do her own research. She focused on the same topics as the spies, but she also added Chaos, Erebus and his twin brother, phantoms, Astra, and harpy traditions into the mix. Not that it had done any good. So far, she’d made no progress.

  Still, she treated each new piece of information like a big, juicy soul and devoured. And yeah, okay, so she might be a wee bit hungry again. Nothing critical. Not yet. Just a few minor pangs. In the shower this morning, she’d almost asked Roc for a top off, but she’d quickly changed her mind.

  He’d woken up with a hard-on and a major attitude. The worst so far. “I really need to kill someone today,” he’d grumbled as he dressed.

  “I can give you a list of candidates,” she’d offered helpfully. She kept multiple lists drafted and at the ready. People to kill. People to torture before she killed them. People to consider torturing or killing. Just the basics, really.

  “If Hades doesn’t have the number-one spot,” he’d snarled, “I don’t need to see it.”

  A sweet thing to say, right? Until he’d added, “Why is having a gravita so difficult?”

  Did he think he’d be better off without her?

  Last night, Roc had lain on his side of the bed, and she’d lain on hers, each facing a different wall, a great divide between them. For the first time since their date, neither had reached for the other.

  Did he fear they were going to fail at crunch time? She had to admit, holding on to her optimism required a Herculean effort. The struggle was compounded by her refusal to sleep. Oh, she’d caught herself drifting off a couple of times, lured by the sweet scent of Roc’s stardust and the heat emitted by his furnace of a body, but Taliyah had continued to resist the urge.

  If
Roc was her consort—and she dared to admit it—she might do as Blythe and abandon her dreams. Already temptation whispered, Enjoy the moment.

  Choose a temporary pleasure over a future dream? Foolishness! But what if Roc was right? What if they could have everything they wanted? Roc, free of the curse. Taliyah, leading a new, modern regime as harpy General.

  What if they couldn’t? No closer to a solution.

  Bottom line: Taliyah and Roc had no business being together. If he spared her life, they were doomed. If he didn’t spare her life, they were doomed. If she saved herself, they were doomed. If she didn’t save herself, they were doomed. And yet...

  Still she hungered for him. Desperately. Her dissatisfaction had returned with a vengeance. Even the nights Roc filled her with his fingers and loved her with his mouth, she felt empty.

  With increasing desperation, she yearned to say yes to his possession. But how could she? Her people needed her more than ever.

  Nissa had lied to everyone. Warriors and hard workers who deserved only candor. How many other Generals had done the same? Taliyah vowed to never lie or mislead her harpies ever. Sacrifice their happiness for her own? No. She would fight for what was right, and she would never accept a picture of defeat for them.

  What other contender for General could say the same?

  But.

  Was denying Roc what he craved, what she craved, an admission of defeat?

  With a grunt of disgust, she closed the book she was not really reading and stood. She headed to the dungeon to check on both her harpies and her phantoms.

  Though it had left them exhausted, Taliyah and Roc had corralled the phantoms she’d fought. Well, the harphantoms. They now wore cuffs, as Taliyah once had, to prevent them from disembodying.

  With three harphantoms per cell and new members added every day, the dungeon bustled with activity.

  As Taliyah passed, old and new harphantoms did their best to fit their bound hands through the bars. Any messages had been delivered, the women able and eager to feed.

  Roux stood guard near the harpies, staring her down as she approached. In front of him, she held his gaze, new hope stirring, but...no. Again, she found no sign of Blythe. Where had her sister gone?