by A. K. Koonce
The little blonde woman, the one who shares similar features with Violence, she writes furiously. Her small hand jots down note after note with every wave of power that jars through the room.
“She’s almost doubled her power since yesterday. Ten times the power pulse as she had the first time. Is she almost ready, Daddy?” She tips her heart shaped face up to the King and he starts to nod.
He takes a step back from Violence’s trembling body. Her screams rip through the room but the King just speaks over her cries.
“I think she is. If we sent her into the underworld she could be powerful enough to retrieve the darkest souls lurking in the depths.”
“What if she’s not?” Jeriko looks to the King, flinching when Vi lunges toward him with a manic screech.
“Then we’ve wasted a very valuable asset.” He nods, stroking his long beard back into place. “The souls we have now are fresh and life sustaining. The souls there, those souls are resilient. They’ve taken the darkness, fed off of it, embraced it and have grown stronger because of it. The book of Severed Souls says it’s the key to true immortality.”
“And we could finally explore the possibilities of strengthening the souls into solid forms. Imagine the kingdoms that would fall at our mercy, Father.”
“I said no, Amandria.” The King’s sharp tone makes her shrink back. “Nothing good can come from bringing those dark souls into a solid form. They reside within the underworld for a reason.” He cuts her a look that I can’t see but he seems to have made a valid point.
For once in his life, the Mad King seems rational.
“Of course, Daddy.” She nods and keeps her gaze on the pad of paper in her hands.
He turns from them, his coat billowing with the sharp movement. It’s nearly a hundred degrees in this damn steam box he’s built and he’s wearing a heavy fur lined coat.
“I have some guests who are less than welcome in my home. Keep an eye on her progress. If she becomes too violent again, you know where the antidote serum is.”
And so do we.
He takes a few steps across the room, and in an instant, we’re face to face. Nollix wastes no time rushing him. His arm locks around the King’s thin frame. He puts so much strength into the blow that the two of them clatter to the floor. The shining tip of his blade sinks through the King’s abdomen. There’s a crazed look in Nollix’s eyes that I have to pull my gaze away from. He’s always balancing just on the edge of sanity. I’m almost afraid to watch if he falls too far down the rabbit hole.
Jeriko and Amandria rush to them at once and it’s then that Cameron and I move from our hiding spot. They’re busy tearing Nollix off of the King, unnoticing of what’s happening across the room.
With the Reveries offering held in my hand, I lean into her. I stand on one side of her while Cameron stands on the other. He puts effort into his actions. The Warlock’s jaw locks into place as his lips purse but he does manage. There’s a spark, the smallest of magic, and the dry herbs flare to life with thick, white smoke. My hand waves, drifting the scent into her gasping and screaming mouth.
“You’re okay, Vi.” My fingers settle against hers but the tension pulling her body off the chair never leaves. “You’ll be okay.” My head tilts closer until my lips brush against her temple.
Cameron fumbles through the drawer at her side, the one she told us about. He pulls a vial out and begin filling the syringe, preparing for the final step.
But first, something very dangerous will happen.
This plan is better than the Darkest Deed plan he had cooked up. We don’t know enough about this laboratory to poison the king.
I don’t know why Cameron is adamant that this will work, though. Last night, he repeated and repeated and repeated how strong Violence’s soul is. It’s been conditioned for the last month with dark essences straight from the underworld, strengthened into a thing of total power.
There’s still a part of me that’s terrified none of that will matter.
I see it the moment the offering takes. Within seconds, her eyes black out into wide inky orbs that blink vacantly up at me. The screaming halts, the trembling of her body relaxes into an eerily calm state.
Just like Nollix always did.
I swallow thickly as I stare down at the beautiful woman who’s never looked more different than she does right now.
The part of her soul that the offering draws out isn’t at all the way Nollix or Cameron explained it. She isn’t a warm and glittering apparition of her beautiful soul.
A fuming black mass of drifting smoke exits her body in a jerking motion. It seems to tear right out of her like it’s much stronger than her physical form. My feet stumble wanting me to step back from the darkness, but I refuse to let go of her hand.
Cameron’s lips part while he just stares up at the wafting shadow that’s drifting toward the ceiling. It takes it’s time rising high above us.
What if … what if that isn’t Vi at all? What if that’s just dangerous underworld souls?
And we just released them.
“This better work, Warlock.” I never take my eyes off of the ominous smoke.
“Yeah, I hope it does.” Uncertainty is in his quiet tone. The sound of his voice pulls away every ounce of hope I have.
My attention cuts to him and fear starts to stir within my chest.
Fucking Warlock.
The smoky mass that I pray to the goddess is Violence, shifts across the room until it hovers just above the crashing struggle of Jeriko and Nollix. My friend’s sword clatters into the far corner. Jeriko’s fist collides with Nollix’s jaw and the impact of it leaves a crazed smile on Nollix’s face. There’s seriously something wrong with him.
He takes the hit and lets Jeriko come right back to him before Nollix slams his head into Jeriko’s. He staggers back. Amandria helps her father stand with a stain of crimson covering her long white dress.
As Jeriko advances, never once pausing for pain, Nollix rushes to grab the hilt of his fuming sword. It glows with such intensity it’s like looking at the sun. Nollix heaves the blade at an angle, Jeriko steps back from the blow but the tip of the blade slices across his cheek. Blood drips from the unscarred side of his face. It slices the length of his features wide and deep.
Another scar is added among the others.
The King rises to his full height and waves a simple hand—his one good hand—toward Nollix and, with unseen strength, the blade clatters noisily to the iron floor. His magic hums through the room, and for a second, we’re all looking at him.
A pleased and prideful look is in his features when he has all of our attention.
Until his gaze rises.
Darkness looms above him.
Hesitation tenses the King’s movements. He takes a curious step closer, standing between Nollix and myself.
His words are an astonished whisper. “Violence.” He seems in awe while Amandria shrinks back in terror. “My sweet, sweet, Violence.” At the sound of her name, she drifts down to him, lingering between the King and me. I can only make out shapes and shadows of the people behind her fuming frame.
Her father reaches out a frail hand to the growing ominous darkness.
“You’ve finally become everything I knew you could be, Daughter.”
Nollix’s head begins to shake back and forth and I wonder if the rage within me is a mixture of his feelings and mine.
This man was supposed to protect her. He was supposed to love her.
All he wanted was to destroy her.
And that’s not going to happen anymore.
Nollix’s movements are quick as he storms across the room toward the Mad King of Fallen. With too much strength, Nollix raises his foot high before kicking hard into the center of the King’s back. The jarring impact causes the old man to stumble forward.
The mass of darkness is right there to catch him.
The growing cloud that is Violence’s smoky form, raises up high before crashing down hard. Th
e swirling shadow billows around the room, making it insufferable to see and breathe, or feel anything else but the raw power that’s shaking through her. The walls reverberate unsteadily and I cling to her fingers. I lean into her body, seemingly protecting her from herself.
The power trembles through the room until it bursts. It presses against everything, making it impossible to even breathe. The impact shoves me down. My back hits the warm floor just as the walls tear open from the inside out. Papers and pens and glass clatter around the room. The chaos only seems to grow with each passing second.
This is how it all ends?
That single sentence circles my mind over and over again. Until the dust begins to settle. The shadows recede. I can breathe again.
The walls are split down the middle. Three of them open to the rooms beyond here, while one of them opens wide into a world of gray and ash. Heat like I’ve never felt rolls in from the gash in the far wall.
“That’s the underworld isn’t it?” Cameron’s question isn’t one I can answer.
I have no fucking idea.
The darkness swirls around the room, whirling casually before drifting across her body like a blanket. Seconds pass before it’s absorbed right into her. I look up then, and the first thing I notice is the beautiful whisky color of her eyes. They catch the light with a wide look of fulfillment. For a second, all I can think about is how normal she looks.
Then I notice her sister take Jeriko’s hand. She stumbles on the papers littering the floor. Her shaking hands grab fistfuls of the handwritten pages. My brows crease as I watch her. She takes a single look back at the destruction of the room before dragging Jeriko through the hole in the wall.
Right out into the mysterious ashen world.
I stand slowly. Nollix walks our way. Long hair hangs in his eyes, but he keeps his focus entirely on her. Cameron pulls the needle from her arm, the needle that seems to have calmed the storm. He stands near her but doesn’t touch her.
That’s smart.
He’s a smart Warlock.
My fingers lace with hers and her pretty gaze peers up at me.
“He’s gone.” A smile tugs at her lips. “He’s gone.” The haunting tone of her voice is filled with happiness.
She’s the happiest I’ve ever seen her actually.
And all it took was her father’s death.
Chapter Twenty-One
Like Father Like Daughter
Violence
I finally got what I always wanted.
I wish I could say we won but this doesn’t feel like winning.
It seems that all my life there was a bigger picture I couldn’t see.
I was so focused on the damage my father was creating that I never realized my sister was also his creation.
The End.
Follow Violence into the underworld. The final book, Darkness Colliding is now available on preorder!
Darkness Colliding Preorder
Also by A.K. Koonce
The Mortals and Mystics Series
Fate of the Hybrid, Prequel
When Fate Aligns, Book one
When Fate Unravels, Book two
When Fate Prevails, Book three
The Resurrection Series
Resurrection Island, Book one
The Royal Harem Series
The Hundred Year Curse
The Curse of the Sea
The Legend of the Cursed Princess
The Hopeless Series
Hopeless Magic
Hopeless Kingdom
Hopeless Realm
Hopeless Sacrifice
The Harem of Misery Series
Pandora’s Pain
About A.K. Koonce
A.K. Koonce is a USA Today bestselling author. She’s mom by day and a fantasy and paranormal romance writer by night. She keeps her fantastical stories in her mind on an endless loop while she tries her best to focus on her actual life and not that of the spectacular, but demanding, fictional characters who always fill her thoughts.
