Blood and Treasure: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Half-Demon Warlock Book 3)

by J. A. Cipriano

  “You went to the Astra coven,” I answered with a sigh.

  “I know what they did to you and your mother, and it killed me to ask them for help. But we were afraid and alone, and I still didn’t know how to deal with what happened to me.” Her face looked pained, as though she was reliving all that she'd been through again. A pang of guilt ran through me. Not being here had allowed all of this to happen to her and-whether I had meant for it to happen or not- it was my fault.

  “It’s okay,” I said, pursing my lips together. “I know you didn’t have a choice, but what was it, Renee? What happened to you when you were struck by lightning?”

  “The same thing that happens to most things when they’re struck by lightning, sweetheart. I died.” She smiled at me. “And then I was brought back…by my father.”

  13

  “You died?” I asked, my mind racing as I took in what Renee had just said to me. “What do you mean you died? You didn’t die, sweetheart. I was there. You got up. You were strong. You were powerful. I remember, probably better than you because it’s only been like two weeks for me.”

  “Two weeks,” she said, a smile stretching across that gorgeous face. “Two weeks is short enough to forget all of it, isn’t it? Two weeks could be a bad dream; a ridiculous episode you never have to let your mind rest on again.” She let out a heavy breath. “What I wouldn’t give to wake up and have all of this been two weeks.”

  “It can be,” I said, squeezing her hand again. “We can leave. We can forget it all. It’s not too late. I came back for a reason, Renee. I had something I needed to tell you, something I still need to tell you.”

  “Something’s coming for me. I know,” she said, licking her lips and setting her stance. “Gary told me while you were fighting Cer. Forgive me if I don’t seem too worried. I’ve been in more than a few fights since you left.”

  “This thing is different. It can seep into your brain. It can become the things from your nightmares.” My hands instinctively balled into fists.

  “I’ve already faced down all my nightmares, Roy. I can’t think of anything that scares me anymore.” She shrugged. “Once you’re died, I guess things like fear just fall by the wayside.”

  I moved closer, feeling instantly connected with her, instantly back in her good graces.

  “I don’t understand,” I admitted. “I need you to help me understand. You said you died, but you’re here. You say your father brought you back, but your father was a fisherman who barely knew a word of English.”

  “Not that father,” she said, pulling my hand forward as she seemed to glide back toward the auspicious white throne at the end of the room. I followed quickly, almost running to keep up pace with her fluid movement. “I don’t mean my biological father. I mean the one who started it all, my ancestor, the father of my line.”

  She pulled to a stop, and I saw the throne in all its glory. More than that, I felt it. The chair radiated a soft and constant heat. It didn’t feel like it would burn me. Quite the contrary. Something deep inside made me feel like touching this chair would light me up, would give me power unlike any I had ever felt.

  “Don’t touch it,” Renee warned. “It’s too much. If your body isn’t designed to hold this sort of power, then it’ll take you into it, make you a part of it.”

  “My body’s sort of used to conflicting energy patterns, in case you’ve forgotten,” I said, staring at the brilliant glowing throne. “What with the whole warlock side of me trying to kill the demon side of me thing.”

  “That’s not the same thing,” she answered, dropping my hand and moving toward the throne. “This power is ancient. It was forged in the fires that bore the universe. Even I couldn’t hold onto it too tightly at first, and it’s literally the reason I was born.”

  Her words pulled me from the nearly hypnotic hold the chair had over me. “The reason you were born?” I asked, my voice lilting up at the end. “How could you possibly know that?”

  “Because he told me, Roy,” she replied. “When I died, my father told me.”

  I took a deep breath, trying to clear my head of all the bright, warm stimuli bouncing around here and steady myself. “You have to stop this, baby. You have to tell me, flat out and plain like, exactly what’s going on. What father are you talking about? What did he tell you?”

  “He told me I was his,” she answered. “He told me I was the last one, and if I wasn’t careful, I was the last one there would ever be. He told me that was why they wanted Nate’s blood. He said that was why your father could use me to free himself and come back to this earth. I was a vessel, because I was a foothold for my own father on this earth, the last vestige of his power here. Because, if I die, every hold he has in this world will be gone forever. If I die, the empire really will die out with me.”

  “What are you talking about, Renee?” I asked, gritting my teeth and trying to hold onto the last of my patience. “I told you to be clear, and now you’re going on like you just had a stroke or something. Who told you this? Who said you were all of these things?”

  “He did!” she said, pointing over at the glowing throne. The throne seemed to glow less now, the light so dim I could see bits of detail etched into the back of the chair.

  The drawing of a man in a chariot, a long beard flowing from his face and a lightning bolt in his hand, was there to greet me. I had seen this kind of thing before in books. I had seen drawings similar. I had seen this man, his chariot, and his lightning bolt.

  I stared at it for a long moment as my chest tightened and I realized who this was.

  “Wait a second,” I said, turning from the chair, to Renee, and back again. “That guy on the chair, that guy is-”

  “Zeus,” she said, power glowing around her again as the armor reappeared across her chest and the sword shimmered into existence at her right hand. “It’s Zeus, Roy. You know, king of the gods, ruler of Olympus, all around malevolent mystical force. It’s that Zeus, Roy.” She grinned. “He also happens to be my forefather.”

  14

  “No he’s not,” I said as quickly as those ludicrous words left Renee’s mouth. “Don’t be ridiculous. Zeus is not your forefather.” I shook my head. Tendrils of revelation began to pull at my brain. “That’s maybe the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. I love you. I really do, but that’s insane.”

  “Roy,” she started, her tone soft and patient.

  “No!” I said, stepping backward. “You’re not Zeus’ daughter. That’s like me saying I’m Han Solo’s nephew or that Mickey Mouse and I are BFFs. Zeus doesn’t exist. Therefore, you cannot be his daughter.”

  “I know it’s difficult to wrap your head around,” she answered simply. “I’m not Zeus’ daughter or anything. Zeus hasn’t existed in this plane on a corporeal level in hundreds of years. I’m thirty something years old, Roy. So, of course, I’m not his direct daughter. What I am, and what I’ve been trying to explain to you since you were brought in here, is the sole heir to his throne, the only person left in one of the oldest and most powerful magical bloodlines in the known universe.”

  “One of the fakest bloodlines in the universe!” I snapped. Throwing my hands out in front of me, I continued. “Listen to yourself, Renee. For God’s sake. I studied all this crap. I know about the supernatural world. I grew up in it. There are demons and warlocks, angels, ghosts, werewolves, vampires, djinns, all that kind of fairy tale crap. But Greek gods? You can’t be serious? If they would have been real, we’d have known. I’d have learned about them.”

  She shook her head, though her eyes lost none of the patience I’d seen in them. “That’s exactly what your brother said, exactly what the Astra coven said when I went to them with my plight. I knew what I’d heard though. I knew what I’d felt when he came to me, when he gave me new life, and told me who I was and what I was meant to do.” Her eyes seemed to glow a little brighter as she continued. “That’s not all he told me, Roy.”

  My mind was a windshield, splatte
red with every idea and emotion that came flying toward it. One more metaphorical bug, and I wouldn’t be able to see out of it at all.

  “What else?” I asked, still unconvinced.

  “He told me about things that would convince them. He showed me where to find artifacts proving his existence. He brought me to this sword, Roy. The Sword of the Righteous.”

  “So you’re King Arthur then?” I balked, folding my arms over my chest.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. King Arthur is a work of fiction. This is very real.”

  “Forgive me,” I muttered. “It’s getting really hard to tell the difference anymore.”

  “I understand that, and that’s why I wanted to be the one to tell you the truth about things, to show you.”

  I stepped forward, realizing how stupid of me it was to shrink away in the first place. Clad in glowing armor and sword aside, this was Renee I was looking at. If she claimed to be the Jolly Green Giant, at least part of me would be ready and willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

  “How are you going to show me, baby?” I asked, taking a deep breath and looking deep into her eyes.

  “The same way I showed them, Roy,” she answered, lifting the sword in her hand high enough so the tip of the blade was level with my shoulder. “With this.”

  She pushed it forward and the cool metal of the blade touched my shoulder. I felt a rush of energy move through me. My senses went on high alert. I felt everything, every particle of air moving around, every minute change in temperature, and then I saw things differently as well.

  Looking at Renee, I saw her body change. Her entire being pulsated with a white light that shrouded everything else in the room. A sensation sprang up from deep inside of me, a warm tingling which sent shivers right through my core.

  In that moment, I knew she was telling me the truth. She was so beautiful, so pure and clear. She had to be divine. She had to be the product of a god. A bolt of lightning rushed down from above and struck the sword. The energy ran through the sword and deposited itself into me.

  My body shook, and behind Renee, the visage of a tall man, the same man from the etching on the throne appeared at her back. He glared at me, power shining in his eyes. His hands rested on her armor clad shoulders protectively.

  Then, when the power dissipated, the man vanished and Renee reverted to her (somewhat) less luminous state.

  “My God,” I stammered in response.

  “Gods,” she answered. “In this instance, you’re talking about plural.” She shrugged. “Not that they’re yours, per se. They’re not huge fans of demons as a rule.”

  “Who is?” I muttered. My mind raced. This new development wasn’t what I was expecting. It wasn’t even close to what I was expecting. Sure, she’d changed before I threw myself into the portal which took me to Hell, but I’d assumed that meant she had a touch supernatural blood in her. Maybe she was half angel or something ironic like that. I certainly never imagined she was the sole descendant of a Greek God.

  “What does this mean?” I asked, blinking hard. “They said you were a queen? They said you were a goddess.”

  “They’re either being kind or dramatic, depending on your perspective,” she answered. “I’m the closest thing this world has left to a goddess, and I suppose I am a queen, though all of my followers are either dead or don’t believe I’m real. So I guess it’s more of a ceremonial title than anything else.”

  “Tell that to the Astra coven,” I answered, trying to swallow my disbelief.

  She shook her head. “They’re not my followers. At least not traditionally. Zeus was a god in Greece, a god to those people. When we went to the Astra coven and told them about everything that had happened, they were shocked. They began looking at the world again, at the way they saw it and what they thought was possible within it. It wasn’t long before they-”

  “Turned themselves into a cult that worships at your feet?” I finished.

  “Now you’re being overly dramatic,” she chuckled lightly and beautifully. “They just recognize how important it is that I remain alive, that the connection between this world and the Greek gods not be severed.”

  “Why?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Who the hell cares about the Greek gods?”

  “I do,” she answered flatly. “For one. They’re my family, my ancestors. And what’s more, you should too. The mystical anchors the Greeks set up all those centuries ago are still in place. The world you know, the way it works, is in large part thanks to the Greeks and those anchors. If they were to be loosened by my death, things on this plane would change greatly.”

  “How greatly?” I asked with narrowed eyes.

  “How fond are you of gravity?” she asked a little too nonchalantly for my liking.

  “Are you being serious?” I asked, swallowing hard. “Cause that seems pretty crazy. I mean there was Newton, and that apple…” I shook my head, dismissing that train of thought. “So, in other words, if you die, the world ends in two different ways. First, it sets a path for my father to come waltzing through. Secondly, it screws with the anchors or whatever.” I sighed. “I should have just stayed there. I should have never come back here. I should have just let my father kill me and open the portal that way. You’d have been able to kick his ass.”

  Renee sighed deeply. “Killing you wouldn’t have done your father any good,” she answered. “I understand he probably twisted it and made you believe you were too important to him on a personal level to kill.” Her hand found mine and squeezed. “And maybe you were. I’m sure every father feels that way about their son, even a father like the one you were saddled with. Even if that’s the case though, killing you wouldn’t have helped him open that portal. The spell he’s using requires the blood of something entirely unique, a one of a kind.”

  “Yeah,” I said, balking. “That’s what I am. In case you’ve forgotten, there’s not a lot of half demon warlocks running around town.”

  Her eyes fell. “That’s what we thought too. It was why we came running to the Astra coven when you went through the first time. We figured your father had everything he needed to complete his plan. They told us differently though.”

  I leaned forward, a question I never thought I’d ask forming in my head. “What are you saying, Renee? Are you implying there’s someone else like me in the world?”

  She raised her hand and said “Bring them in.” The words were soft, so soft that I barely heard them myself. Somehow, the doors opened up though.

  “You asked me if I was single before, Roy. You asked me if things were the same between us.” She squeezed my hand again. “Well, I am, but they’re not. Things aren’t the same between us anymore, and what I’m about to show you is the reason why.”

  In the distance, I saw a woman walking toward her. Her strut was familiar and-as she neared- her features grew clearer. Soon, more than her strut became familiar to me.

  My stomach did an uneasy flip as I took her in. Her tight blonde hair, her pronounced cheekbones, those blue grey eyes. I had lost myself in them more than a few times in my younger days. They were enough to snare me back then, enough to convince me that marrying this woman was a good idea, and enough to haunt me for years after she wasn’t my wife anymore.

  “Essie?” I said, looking at her in disbelief. “This is why things are different? My ex-wife? There’s nothing between us anymore Renee. She’ll tell you as much.”

  “There’s something between you,” Renee said sharply. Turning to Essie, she nodded.

  As she got closer, I saw there was someone behind her, a set of footsteps which matched her own. When she settling front of us, those footsteps moved to the side, revealing who they belonged to.

  A little boy with dark bangs stood at her side, his eyes closed and his hand desperately searching for Essie’s.

  My ex-wife took it and stared at me. “Luc,” she said, addressing the boy. “I’d like you to meet your father.”

  15

  I stared at the boy
for a long moment, all thought having mysteriously vanished from my mind. I was like a blank slate, a vast empty canvas, a slobbering mess of a man without the capacity to even think, much less speak in response.

  This boy, about twelve by the looks of it, was my son. The idea seemed insane at first blush. If Essie had been pregnant when I left, I would have known. Besides, the timeline didn’t even line up. I had been away from the coven for five, maybe six years. This boy was…actually how old would he would be if seven years of my life had been ripped away in the blink of an eye.

  God in Heaven, was this real? Was Essie telling the truth? Had I really fathered a boy, a son I’d never heard tell of?

  “What is this?” I asked, my eyes flickered from the tinted red of the boy’s eyes to the grey-blue of Essie. Her face said it all. Tense muscles wrapped her set jaw, and the worry lines on her forehead told me she had been dreading this day for quite some time. “Essie, tell me what’s going on.”

  The boy tightened his grip on her hand, but my ex-wife placed her free palm on his back to calm him down. He was staring right at me, his face a hodgepodge of both our features. He had my hair, dark and unruly in the back. He had her cheekbones, strong and pronounced. His nose was like mine, but smaller, and his lips held the same curl as Essie’s. That curl that made me think she was up to no good even in our best moments.

  “It’s okay,” she said to the boy. “He’s just confused. He’s only now learning about this. I told you it might be an adjustment for him. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean that-”

  “Essie, talk to me,” I said, breaking through her diatribe because I couldn’t stand to hear it anymore. “Tell me what the hell is going on here.”

  She stared at me, her set jaw loosening just a little.

  Renee’s hand brushed against my shoulder. “I’ll give you some time to deal with all of this.”

  “No,” I said, turning to her quickly. “Stay here. Please.”