No! Fight this! Must decode.
Must kill.
Wait! She should chain herself to the bed. Then she could study, and she wouldn’t have to worry about harming William. The man kept shackles in his closet, for goodness sake. Fate.
Sunny stood a second time, tiptoed to the closet and dug out the chains. On her way back to bed, dizziness nearly toppled her. Breathe. Just breathe. Somehow, she managed to stay upright—quietly—and reach her side of the bed.
She tried to secure one end of the chain to a bedpost, but her arm refused to obey her mental commands. She merely jabbed the chain at the poster, as if she were stabbing it.
What the hellebore? She tried again. Jab. Something warm and wet sprayed over her hands, the chain slipping from her grip and thumping on the floor. But...she saw nothing out of place. Her hands appeared clean and dry.
A hard hand reached out from the poster to wrap around her wrist, holding her captive. A hand. From the poster? Confused, nearing panic, she struggled to get free. The hold proved too strong.
“Sunny!”
William’s voice, sharp with fear. She blinked rapidly, a new terrifying reality taking shape. William held her. He was covered in blood, and so was she. A bloody dagger lay on the floor, not a pair of chains.
Sunny gasped. She’d mistaken a dagger for a link of chains? Had she hallucinated and picked up a dagger? But why? And...and...she’d stabbed William? Oh, freesia, she had. It was his precious lifeblood that wet their hands.
Horror punched her, knocking the air from her lungs. Wheezing, she stumbled back. Or she would have, if he hadn’t tightened his grip. “I thought... I thought I was standing at my side of the bed, not yours. I thought I held chains, not a dagger. I thought...” He had two wounds in his chest. Because of her. Because she’d stabbed him. Twice!
Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. Any bravado she’d managed to cultivate about her resistance to the curse utterly disintegrated.
“William, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize... I didn’t know... I wanted to protect you. I...I...” She crumpled into herself, her knees buckling.
Despite his injuries, he flashed behind her, catching her before she hit the ground. He flashed her atop the bed, his back propped against the headboard, her cheek resting against his shoulder. More of his blood wet her skin as he wrapped a strong arm around her, but she didn’t care. Anything to luxuriate in his embrace. With his other hand, he petted her hair.
“I’m so sorry,” she repeated.
“Shh, shh. It’s okay. I’ve got you, love. A little light stabbing is foreplay. No big deal.”
He was comforting her, after she’d stabbed him. What if she had killed him...
Another sob shook her. She had to make this right. “I want to show you my unicorn form.”
He kissed her temple, then astounded her by saying, “Not like this. You’ll show me because you want me to see you, not because you feel guilty for giving me some internal body bling.”
More understanding from him, when she deserved castigation. He wasn’t going to protect himself against her, was he? He thought, like she had, that he could contain and control the situation. A mistake. One she would rectify.
If he wouldn’t take measures to protect himself from her, she would have to take measures to protect him. She would...leave.
Another sob bubbled up, but she tamped this one down. She’d leave for a little while, only a little while, holding up the way she used to do during mating season. Finally, she would finish decoding the book. Then, and only then, could Sunny return and be with William always and forever.
My love, my life.
38
“War is like chess—I always win.”
William’s worst fears had come true. He’d fallen in love, and the object of his affection had made a solid attempt on his life, without even realizing what she was doing.
For two weeks, he’d made love to Sunny at all hours of the day and night. While she’d slept, he’d fought and interrogated demons, and hunted leads for the tenth crown, all while avoiding Axel. He’d hoped to clear his head before next meeting with his brother, but his thoughts had only grown more chaotic.
How his life had changed in the weeks since meeting Sunny. He had a lifemate. The curse had activated. He had a future without Hades. A soon-to-be king of Hell was related to an Elite 7—would Axel be punished for their connection? What if another Sent One accused William of a crime, as Bjorn had done? Axel would be caught in the crossfire, forced to choose.
Should William cut all ties?
And what about Sunny, his potential queen and murderess? Did he maintain the status quo with her, letting her continue to study the code while guarding himself against future attacks?
Deep down, he had a sinking suspicion the attacks would only worsen. That, one day, the trance or whatever overcame her would be permanent. Or did he do what he’d once considered a nonstarter and burn the book to prevent Sunny from studying it? Every time she cracked open the pages, she worsened.
He frowned, a thought occurring to him. Why did she only worsen when she studied? Did his feelings for her strengthen during those times, adding fuel to the curse’s fire, as she suspected? Or did the book itself dictate the curse, rather than William’s feelings? And if so, what did it mean for them?
As she slept against his healing chest, her warm breath fanned his skin. He combed his fingers through her hair. Silvery moonlight bathed her in intervals, flashing bright to illuminate her ethereal beauty, before fading, then flashing again.
Losing focus. Right. The curse. During mating season, the curse hadn’t influenced Sunny in the least. Then she’d woken up, studied a passage and, boom, she’d stabbed him.
How would she react when she woke? Would she try again, or be herself?
Though he hated to leave her, William tucked her under the covers, showered, dressed in his customary attire, then grabbed his cell, intending to contact Axel. The time to talk again had come.
He frowned when he discovered new texts.
Green Machine: Lucifer knows we have Evelina.
Red Abed: To say he’s pissed would be an understatement. But. He’s PISSED.
Black Attack: Be on guard today. Twice this morning Lucy tried to sneak into our home, disguised as one of us.
Damn it! This was exactly what William didn’t need right now. Inhaling for calm, he cast a final glance at Sunny—sleeping fitfully without his nearness, injecting apprehension straight into his veins—placed a magical barrier around the bedroom, ensuring no one could enter without her permission, then flashed to the door of Axel’s country estate in the heavens. A mansion made from gorgeous woods, gold and precious gems. Smooth diamond sheets provided a flat roof.
He knocked a little too forcefully. A crack spread through the center of the door. He’d never been here before, but he’d secretly researched Axel after realizing he might be the little boy from his memory. Pictures hadn’t done justice to this area of the heavens. A clear, baby blue sky with no sun. Light came from their leader, the Most High. Birds of every color soared through the lavender-scented air. In the yard, trees teemed with golden apples, figs and pears.
The door swung open, Axel appearing, his dark hair rumpled, his eyes sleepy and hooded, shirtless, his leathers unbuttoned, only partially zipped. He sported claw marks on his throat, and bruises on his pecs. His wings had a couple fist-size bald spots, as if someone had ripped out handfuls of feathers.
“Rough night?” William asked. “Or a really, really good one?”
Axel pivoted to allow him inside. “The little hellcat didn’t want to bathe. I made her. As soon as she realized I had no plans to harm her, she settled down...somewhat.”
Striding into the foyer, he said, “We can return her to—”
“No!” Axel barked. Then he scoured a hand down his face. More gently, h
e repeated, “No. She’s safest here, so here she’ll stay.”
The poor bastard was attracted to the girl, even though his fellow Sent Ones despised witches. If Evelina reciprocated the attraction, the two would have a difficult road ahead. If they were fated...
Worth every hardship.
“Lucifer knows about her,” Axel said, his jaw clenched. “He donned your face and tried to sneak into my cloud. I scented out his deception, and whisked Evelina here. Now he’s out for blood.”
“He’s always out for blood. But how do you know I’m not Lucifer, trying again?”
“Eyes express emotion he cannot hide.” Axel walked to a wet bar beyond the foyer, the only piece of furniture in a space large enough to accommodate his wings. “Something to drink?”
Determined to maintain a clear head, he declined. “Have you learned anything new about coded curses?”
“I have not, I’m sorry. Has something else occurred?”
Words spilled from him. “I did the stupidest, most brilliant thing and fell in love with Sunny. I expected her to attack the moment I realized it. She didn’t. She only attacked when she started working on the book. Is it possible the book is cursed?”
“Possible, yes. Likely, no.” Axel poured himself a shot of whiskey. “A curse is a living organism, a parasite that requires a host. It feeds off thoughts, emotions, words, finally becoming a self-fulfilled prophecy.”
Pacing, he said, “Let’s say I’m not actually cursed. Let’s say the book isn’t cursed, either.” No one had ever sensed a curse, only magic. “What would entrance Sunny and lead her to kill me?”
Axel fell into step beside him, keeping pace. “I don’t know, but if it only happens with the book...”
“Then the book is at fault, despite being curse-free.”
“Something about it must poison her mind against you.”
Poison... He recalled the vial of poison the Goddess of Many Futures had revealed to Hades, as well as the vial of poison Sunny had drawn. Could the book be poisonous? But how? The pages coated with some kind of chemical? No. Would he have noticed it?
What about the ink?
He sucked in a breath. The fucking ink. Sunny liked to feel the symbols. Had she been poisoned every time she’d made contact?
Had he cursed himself every time he’d requested her aid?
His hands fisted. Oh, how Lilith must have loved the idea of that. He stopped abruptly, his stomach twisting. She hadn’t cursed him. She’d cursed the ink, giving him the means to destroy himself. And he had.
Worse than a fool. A gull, easily deceived.
Fury burned through him, only to fade as waters of hope rained over him. No book, no murder attempts. He could torch the pages and have Sunny. But... If he was wrong, he would destroy his only means of obtaining freedom.
He imagined Lilith laughing as he met and discarded woman after woman, afraid to fall in love. Imagined her gleefully bragging about her genius and his idiocy, smug as she told her friends all about his efforts to save himself, only to make things worse for his present, and his future.
“I must go,” he said. “I’m going to try to speak with Hades one last time and find out what he—” William pressed his lips together, waiting.
Axel had ceased moving, his head canted to the side, his expression dark but frozen. No doubt other Sent Ones were speaking to him telepathically.
William would give him one minute more, but no longer. Then he would leave. Get to Hades, then Sunny. One way or another, the issue with his book would be resolved today.
Within thirty seconds, the Sent One snapped out of it. “Hordes of demons have invaded the camp of Sent Ones, and my men require my aid. I cannot flash while I’m in the heavens. I need you to take me back to Hell.”
Demons invading his turf... William wasted no time, cupping his brother’s shoulder and flashing him to the campground. But...there were no Sent Ones present. No demons, either. The place had been deserted.
A sense of foreboding prickled his flesh. “Go,” William said. “Find your brethren. I must get Sunny to safety.” If the horde had invaded his home... William cursed.
They embraced.
“Be well, William.”
“And you, brother.” Though he wished to linger—Sunny had taught him the beauty of a good cling—William stepped back and flashed to his bedroom. “Sunny?”
He rushed to the bed—not there. His heart raced. He stomped into the bathroom. No sign of her there, either.
He wouldn’t panic. Not yet. He sprinted about, searching for any clues. There! A sheet of paper rested on her pillow. Trembling, he lifted it. His guts clenched. Tearstains marred the paper, and they were still damp.
He read, I’ve left, and I’ve taken your book. Please don’t try to find me. I promise I’ll return once your curse is broken. Tell Dawn I love and miss her, okay? But maybe don’t tell her I’ll miss you more.
No, no, no. Now he panicked. She’d gone, and she’d taken the book.
But she hadn’t been gone long.
Must find her! He called her cell, only to hear it ring. The device rested on the nightstand. Think! To escape him so quickly, she must have been flashed. Who would she ask to flash her, though? And how would she communicate—
The cell phone. She’d left it so he couldn’t track her, but probably hadn’t thought to erase her messages. Not if she’d been in a hurry.
He cued up her texts and found an exchange with Hades.
Sunny: I need to speak with you. It’s important. How soon can you pick me up?
Hades: Check your door.
Claws sprouted from William’s nails. The exchange transpired sixteen minutes ago. If she went with his father... There’s still hope.
Frantic but determined, William texted Axel an update, arranging a meet-up, then hurriedly strapped weapons all over his body. On his way, he remembered the medallion he’d stashed away, intending to study. He had yet to practice with it, and usually refused to wield an untried weapon. But Sunny had said the medallion could paralyze an opponent for seconds at a time. Those seconds could be lifesaving. And hadn’t he felt fated to use the medallion?
Very well. He would make an exception. He followed Sunny’s lead, hanging the medallion from a chain and securing it around his neck.
As soon as it slid beneath his shirt, touching his skin, its magic swept through him, plumping his muscles with aggression and strength as if he were some kind of Berserker. Should have done this sooner.
Now to get his woman back, kill his ex-brother and find his crown.
* * *
Sunny’s heart raced faster than a speeding bullet. She’d been wide-awake when William had left their bedroom. Seconds later, she’d jumped to her feet and rushed around to gather everything she might need.
Since he’d programmed Hades’s number into her cell phone, she’d contacted the king to ask for a one-on-one conference. She’d wanted to contact Pandora or Anya, but she’d feared they would tell William her plans. Besides, this way, she could help repair his relationship with his dad before she went into hiding.
Only minutes later, there’d been a hard rap at the door. She’d opened up to find Hades. He’d patted her down, discarded her weapons and flashed her to his home. Well, all but one weapon. The medallion still hung around her neck. That, he hadn’t noticed, thanks to her magic.
As soon as he’d learned the reason for her request, however, he’d deposited her in William’s old bedroom and told her, “I don’t have time for such matters. Lucifer has attacked the Sent Ones. If you remain in this room without causing trouble, we’ll talk after I’ve put out a few fires.”
That conversation had occurred roughly ten minutes ago. She’d spent half the time investigating William’s things. A closet filled with novelty T-shirts about Big Willy. Mason jars filled with clear liquid and organs. Roma
nce novels, books about war, codebreaking and game theory filled the only bookcase.
Her ears twitched, telltale noises drifting from somewhere below. Battle noises. Her brow furrowed. What was going on down there?
She opened the bedroom door, cringing at the slightest squeak. Thankfully, no one shouted protests or commands as she tiptoed into the hall. She ignored the riches and treasures around her, keeping her attention on the armed soldiers once posted along the walls, now leaping into action, rushing down the staircase.
She followed, the scent of brimstone and sulfur permeating the air. Still no protests. The closer she came to the throne room, the louder those battle noises became and the faster her heart galloped. Swords whooshed and clanged. Bones popped. Blood gurgled.
Screams and wails blended with gleeful laughter. No matter which way she looked, demons fought soldiers.
Sage! This was a full-on invasion.
Some of the demons had multiple horns and forked tails. Others had bloodstained fangs and ultrasharp claws. All had hard scales and a thirst for blood.
Demons. Must. Die.
Muscles tensing for battle—not yet, not yet—she pressed her back against the wall and slipped into the shadows, sneaking about.
More demons congregated at the doors of the throne room. Bodies and body parts littered the floor, pools of blood in every direction.
Finally a demon noticed her and launched her way, only to be blocked by other demons and soldiers already engaged in combat. Heart thudding, she yanked her medallion free and dropped to the floor. After she smeared blood on her face and chest, she played dead. One minute passed, then two, the demon reaching her at last.
He spun, searching for her. When he spotted her, seemingly dead, he howled and lashed out, kicking her in the stomach. She didn’t let herself huff a breath or react in any way. Not stabbing him in retaliation required willpower she hadn’t known she possessed. But the moment she engaged, she would lose her advantage. An advantage she needed to save for the rescue of Hades. William would want her to save his father at all cost.
The Darkest King Page 36
