A Reckoning so Sweet (The Reckoning Book 3)

by Candace Wondrak

  As he catches up, Dagon mutters, “I was able to portal here from the forest—barely. Now…now I can’t do anything.”

  “It’s the magic of this realm,” I say, sharply turning to continue following the mist down the halls of the ice castle. “It’s strong—stronger than anything on earth.”

  Dagon studies me, my Mark-free body. “Clearly.”

  All the Fae we pass turn to ice as the fast-moving mist goes by. After a few more minutes of running and heck of a lot of frozen Fae later, we come upon the hall Weylon had shown me days earlier. Doors and windows, stretching for half a mile.

  “How…odd,” Dagon remarks, slowing.

  The mist passes a dozen doors on each side, stopping before a lone green one; the only green one of the bunch. A strong presence emanates from behind it, and my hand steadily reaches for the ancient metal knob. The ice from this place hasn’t touched this particular door.

  “I think we have to go this way,” I say, glancing to him.

  He frowns. “How do you know we can trust that thing? Do you even know what it is?”

  With a shrug, I say, “Nope, but it got us this far.” Without waiting for more of his doubt, I throw open the heavy door and leap into the stationary portal, Dagon close on my heels.

  Chapter Eleven

  We jump straight into a grove that’s like a fantasy-lover’s dream: a circle of bright green grass, surrounded by a thick root system, little puffs of seeds floating in the air without the help of any sort of breeze. As soon as our feet land in the grove, the wisp we follow vanishes. I glance over my shoulder at the doorway, the portal that brought us here.

  Or…I thought I was going to glance over my shoulder and see it. What I see, however, is not the portal. It’s nothing but a root the size of a car.

  I rush to the area, my hands feeling all over. Nothing but tree bark. No door, no magic portal, no nothing.

  “Hmm,” Dagon says, spinning in a circle, “it seems there is no way out.” He looks upward, and I follow his gaze, realizing that we can’t even climb our way out. There is no sun above us. There is nothing but a huge tree. Why in the world is the grove so full of light, then?

  My head hurts as I mutter, “I don’t suppose you can whip up a portal of your own now, can you?” When he shakes his head, I want to lay down and sleep for eternity. It’s never easy, is it? Nothing is ever simple. I want to shout, I want to scream, I want to cry. All my responsibilities I’ve hidden myself from—who will pay the price? Deb, David, the world?

  I’ve had it up to my eyeballs in apocalypse shit.

  “Then we’re stuck here,” I whisper, at least until we’re dead of hunger or something vile eats us. In this realm, who knows. Shoulders slumping, I wander to the middle of the grove, plopping myself in the grass. “I’m sorry.” Though he’s the only one here to say it, I say it for everyone. All those on earth I left behind, all those who died, and all those who will die while we’re stuck in Fae land. “This is my fault.”

  And the self-blame comes rushing back, an old friend. Like it never left.

  Dagon unhurriedly sits beside me, his strong hand lacing his fingers between mine. “This isn’t your fault.” He gently tugs on my hand, making me look at him, see the sincerity in his expression. “None of this is your fault.”

  Those six words are loaded, and they come jam-packed with memories I’d rather not relive. Lucifer, Dagon’s father, and I…in front of Dagon—there are still no words for how terrible I feel about that.

  “I don’t blame you for anything,” he whispers, “except for driving me up a wall sometimes, like getting caught in the Fae realm without me.” Tiny dimples appear on his cheeks as he tries to cheer me up. I’d rather do anything but smile, though. “I know you don’t believe it, but it’s not your fault.”

  “How can you say that?” I ask. “You saw—”

  His fingers tighten, his eyes cloud over. “I know. It’s a sight I’ll never forget.” There’s a pause, and my eyes start to water with regret. “My father thinks he got what he wanted. He always loves bringing heroes to their knees. But you’ve said yourself that you aren’t a hero, not some cliché. Neither am I. When the Reckoning comes, I will fight my father until I can fight no more. Not for his crown, not for his subjects or his kingdom—I will fight him for you, for us. He will die for what he did to you.”

  Such a strong sentiment; my watery gaze blinks away. If he can be strong, despite everything—what I’ve done, what I failed to do—so can I. Alone, we’re broken. Together, we are whole.

  With my free hand, I lightly trace his jaw, his stubble prickly.

  The world is falling apart. My friends may be dying. Who knows where Cloud is. There are so many things I should be worried about, but when Dagon and I lock eyes, everything falls away.

  “I love you, Dagon,” I say. He opens his mouth to say something, but I quickly place a manicured finger on his lips, stopping him. Standing, I walk in front of him, wondering if I’m stupid for what I’m about to do.

  There’s no escape from the grove, no magic to take us home. We are alone. No interruptions, no hesitation. It’s now or never. We might die, but isn’t that what should happen eventually? I’m done being afraid. I’m over letting Lucifer dictate my life. I’m going to do what I’ve wanted to do for the longest time.

  With shimmying shoulders, the dress that was to be my bridal gown falls to the ground. The only thing I wear when I face Dagon is the diamond necklace. I step out of the dress’s pile, sliding out of the glass heels.

  When he doesn’t say anything, only stares at me, at my body, I say, “A reaction would be preferable to that creeper vibe you got going on.”

  “I’m sorry,” he says, standing in a hurry. He works to get out of his shirt. “It’s just…I…” The ever-verbose Dagon, speechless. It’s kind of cute. While his arm is stuck in his t-shirt, I grab his face and pull him down to me, kissing him. His mouth opens to mine as I wrap my arms around his neck.

  We aren’t going to stop this time. Nothing is going to get in our way.

  Pardon the language, but we’re going to fuck like it’s the end of the world.

  And, in a way, it kind of is.

  What David told me I didn’t want to hear. Those things—the Locusts, beasts with insect wings and scorpion tails, expressionless human face—decimated our group. There was hardly anyone left now.

  I grew angry, stormed out of the house we barricaded ourselves in, stalking down the empty streets in the sunlight. Old newspapers rolled along, cars missing tires and doors. Once I made it to the main street, I stared at the famous house at its end. DC was a bust. It was all a bust. Every idea I ever had was a bust.

  Why did everyone look to me as the leader? What made me so special? Clearly, I wasn’t good at it. Not a good leader, not a good friend, not a good anything.

  “You blame yourself.”

  I groaned when I heard his voice, spinning to glare at him. “Yes, shocker that I blame myself,” I told him. “It was my idea to come here. Stupid, really. If most of humanity just vanished, the government did, too. The government is made of people, after all.”

  Dagon stepped closer to me, and above us, the sky darkened with clouds—the first we’d seen in ages. No longer was it a sepia sun; it burned everyone, which made moving from place to place obscenely difficult, especially with those Locusts. “You cannot blame yourself for things out of your control.”

  I laughed, a short, ugly chuckle. “Clearly, you don’t know me very well. It’s what I do best.”

  “You cannot hold the world on your shoulders,” he said, again stepping closer.

  His words caught me off-guard. So off-guard that I failed to notice just how close he was getting. Dagon and I weren’t alone since before the attack on the town. “Did you just use a figure of speech?”

  The smile he gave me made my stomach flip. “Yes. I am learning the nuances, I think.”

  “Color me impressed.”

  “That…I do not u
nderstand. Does fascination have a certain hue?”

  The laugh that escaped me was unlike the one before. This one was real, genuine.

  Dagon ran his fingers through my hair, rubbing a strand between his pointer and his thumb, something he’d done often. I wanted to pull away, to tell him off like I had every other time he’d done it, but I didn’t. I stood there, still, as he whispered, “This might not be the right time, but if there is anything I have learned, it’s that it never is the right time. Lately, I have thought about that day in the forest…a lot.”

  He didn’t have to elaborate. I knew exactly what day he spoke of. The day we almost made out, the day I mocked him by groveling at his feet. We were interrupted, like our apocalyptic world was a sitcom.

  I knew where he was going with this, and I was too tired, too weary, to fight him off.

  I didn’t want to.

  “Anything in particular?” I baited him, my breath hitching when both his hands laced in my hair, tangling and tugging gently. He tilted my head, and I stared deeply into his gaze. So intense, so attractive. I knew I was in trouble when he arrived, when my Mark was fully activated, and he wasn’t some hideously deformed Demon.

  I was in more trouble now, admitting that to myself.

  “Your lips, especially,” he whispered.

  “Yeah?” I wanted him to say more, to woo me, to just do it already. But romance in general was neither of our strong suits.

  Dagon leaned down, his breath hot on my face as he murmurs, “Yes.” And before I had the chance to say anything more to drag this out, his mouth closed on mine. A little awkward, at first. As far as I knew, neither of us had done it before. For a few seconds, we tried to catch onto each other’s rhythm, the tug and pull of our lips, but we got the hang of it soon enough.

  My life was the drawn picture Deb had showed me in the beginning. My soul’s owner, his hands in my hair, our eyes closed. Hungry and passionate, thirsty and wanting. I never thought it would happen, and now that it was, I didn’t want it to end.

  His warmth, his smell, spread throughout my body, and I pressed closer against him, moving my hands to his sides, gripping his shirt like I thought I’d lose him.

  I didn’t know how long we stood there in the desolate streets of DC, kissing like hormonal teenagers, but it was a while. Minutes, at least, but it didn’t feel that long. I didn’t want to stop. It took my mind off of all the problems we faced. My shoulders were free of any weight.

  Our lips parted, and Dagon whispered, “That was…nice.”

  “Yeah” was all I could say.

  “Maybe we should return to the house,” he said.

  Again, “Yeah.”

  But did we?

  No. We stood there, kissing until the blood rain made us portal for cover.

  And. It. Was. Marvelous.

  I couldn’t help but recall the first time we kissed, and how far our skills have come. I pull away from Dagon to say, “You know your pants have to come off, too.”

  “Yeah,” he says quietly, working to undo his jeans and get one hundred percent naked, like me. His mouth returns to mine, and I run my hands down his body, tracing his muscles, the V-shape on his hips, until I’m touching him in a way I’ve never done before.

  When he moans into my mouth, I chuckle and kiss his neck, whispering, “Do you like that?”

  All that comes from him is a guttural “Yes.” He picks me up, and we both lay on the grass. His hungry mouth travels everywhere on me, and soon I’m the one moaning. His hands touch me, fingers running over my nipples as he nibbles my earlobe.

  For a good while we wrestle naked, exploring each other, uninhibited by anything. We get so lost in each other that we forget all sense of urgency, the purpose of why we’re here, in the Fae realm. There is nothing but Dagon and me, and the need to be one.

  When he tries to push inside, I cover my mouth to hide my smile. With my other hand on his sweaty chest, I say, “Let me open my legs.”

  “Right,” he says, grinning, dimples on his cheeks. “I thought it seemed difficult.”

  I laugh, my knees coming apart after he leans off me.

  Dagon stares hard at his destination, hands running my inner thighs, sending shivers up my spine in spite of the heat he radiates. He crawls over me, taking his time to position himself.

  This is real, I remind myself. This is happening. Once it does, there’s no going back.

  I don’t want to go back.

  He pushes inside.

  I let out a sound that’s somewhere between pain and pleasure, my hands gripping the grass, knuckles turning white.

  “Are you all right?” Dagon asks, his voice husky.

  Nodding, I say, “Yes, just…go.” My fingers move from the grass to his hair, its typical spiky anime style flattened with sweat. Though it hurts, I don’t want him to stop. I want him to keep going.

  He starts to thrust, and I learn that I’m not quiet during the act. It’s a good thing we’re alone in a grove in another realm, otherwise everyone still alive on earth would probably hear me. My noises, though, seem to make Dagon work a little harder, go a little faster. My hands hold his hips, nails digging into his skin.

  Within the minute, his body tenses and he stifles a moan. His chest falls on my face, too weak to hold himself up. His breathing is ragged, every inch of him glistening in perspiration.

  I pat his back, muttering against his chest, “You’re crushing me, Dagon.”

  “Right.” He struggles to hold himself up, a tired, lopsided smile greeting me. “That was…”

  Nice? Relaxing? Hard at first, then pleasurable? Whatever I think he’s going to say, he says something completely opposite.

  “Short. I’d like to do it again.”

  Cackling, I whisper, “Have at me, you hungry dog.” The grove around us is still a prison with no way out. “We’ve got nowhere else to go.” My mad laughter turns into a girlish giggle as he nuzzles my neck.

  And maybe it’s because we’ve got nowhere to go, or because we’re both sex-starved, but let’s just say we do it more than a couple times.

  And. It. Is. Marvelous.

  I don’t know when I fall asleep, but I know that when I open my eyes, I must have. Wet drool stains my face, and as I hurriedly wipe it off, I can’t help but smile at the snoozing Dagon. Still very much nude, still very much handsome, and still very much all mine. I’m about to wake him up by having my way with him, but a strange gust of wind makes me turn my head.

  A new opening sits in the root system that encases the grove, one that I know for a fact was not there earlier. It isn’t a portal, but it’s a way out, possibly.

  I try to wake Dagon, but the fool is so worn out that he just swats my arm away and mutters something about five more minutes. I reach for my dress, slide it on, and commence my investigation barefoot. Embarrassment crawls over me after I take my first few steps and find that it hurts a bit to walk. I’m a little sore in areas I’ve never been sore before.

  Soldiering on is what I do best—besides blaming myself for the world’s problems, and trusting the wrong people, and…well, you get the idea.

  Stepping into the new opening, the light of the grove vanishes. A system of roots, smaller than the ones that encase the grove, opens into a pathway, nothing but dust and dirt under my feet. I follow the path, my footsteps cautious.

  A weird thumping sound grows louder and louder the farther I head into the root tunnel. Its tempo is familiar, yet too faint and too far away to place it. Boom. Boom. As I walk, I start to feel the sound inside of me, and that’s when I know what it is.

  A heartbeat.

  Another minute of walking brings me to the source of the beat. Amongst the roots that are only a few inches thick—not nearly comparable to the others I’ve seen in this realm—hangs a heart. Red and bloody, but beating and alive. Nothing but tough muscle.

  My left hand outstretches. I know I probably shouldn’t touch it, but it’s an urge I cannot deny. My palm lays flat against
the heart, and almost immediately a prickle of pain shoots up the same arm. I withdraw my hand to see a wound deep in my palm, something dark and circular embedded in my flesh. I’m about to pick at it when I happen to notice that behind the heart lies another path.

  Curiosity killed the cat, I muse to myself as I hold my injured wrist with my good hand, my feet drawing me along. Around the heart, through the tunnel, I eventually emerge into ethereal daylight, gasping at the sight of the field.

  Curiosity might’ve killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

  Rows and rows of beings, creatures of all shapes and sizes, frozen, fossilized by the forest. Fae, wolves, and dozens of other creatures who lived in this realm. A few ogres, something I heard was extinct on earth. Though they are different forms, they’re all the same: very tree-like, brown and barky.

  I spot a Human-looking being, and I zigzag through the field, halting directly before him. Though he’s a bit worse for wear, I recognize him. “Cloud,” I say his name aloud, recalling the day he volunteered to go.

  “Move slow,” Nat spoke, still watching Penny with a careful eye. Penny had woken up a while ago, but she still tried to take care of her like she was an invalid or a child and not her girlfriend.

  Penny gave her a look as she leaned on the wall to the basement. “I’m okay,” she told her. “Just a little tired.” The ex-soldier did look a little thin, but a coma would do that to you. Really, it was a miracle she even woke at all after that lightning blow from Aries. She gave Nat a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll be fine, really,” she assured her.

  Nat wasn’t so confident.

  I watched the exchange, moving my eyes across our group. The few civilians we had left from the city were starting to look as ragged as I felt. Deb’s belly showed as a bump. Honestly, we were all hungry. Even Eve was starting to look a little anorexic.

  Cloud stood near the stairs, motioning for me to come up. I glanced at Dagon beside me, whispered “I’ll be right back,” and went to him. It was dark outside, but that didn’t mean the group was safe from the ever-burning sun. There were terrible things out there, hungry to devour whatever life was left. It’s why our hunting trips were growing less and less successful.