The thought had never occurred to me.
Stupid, I know. How could it not? My goal is to win my female back. To hopefully fix this and have her mated to me in return.
She’s a queen now. To be with her, I’ll have to be her king.
My chest puffs at the thought.
Holy shit, of all the destinies . . .
Taking a page out of my R’ma’s book, I smirk at Halamar. “Let me make something very clear to you. If that female wants me, and she demands it, I will be your motherfucking king. And you will all just have to learn to accept it. End of story.”
- Mott Haven, Bronx, NY (USA)
IANYTHI
There goes another Catholic mortal exiting the cathedral across the street. I’ve been watching one after another go in and out for hours. Mostly parishioners. A nun or two. This one, however, is a tall, gorgeous male.
A human priest of all things.
I watch him exit the church, his bearing military-straight as he takes the steps to the street. The blonde man makes a sharp left, heading down the block, his light hair touching the collar of his black coat.
Pretty young for a priest. Not that I haven’t seen a young one before, but it’s been a while.
A light-gray cat rushes down the block, heading straight for me. Within a second, it’s crossing the Gnetica I’m shielded with and wrapping itself around my leg, purring with contentment.
Just my luck. When they lock on me, not even an energy shield can keep them away.
“Go away,” I grumble, shaking it off. It doesn’t seem to register my tone. Scowling, I let a small thread of connection open between us, giving it a dose of my annoyance.
It hisses, running under the parked car next to me.
Not for long though. They never stay away.
Fucking hate being the Goddess of the Wild sometimes. Being able to draw all sorts of creatures to oneself is useful, but mostly in battle.
And that’s if one can control it.
Not, you know, end up with a bunch of animals vying for your affection while you’re trying to kick some major ass.
Pushing the cat from my mind, I resume my staring contest with the church. I was told Spari comes here from time to time.
She has to be here. I’ve been looking for days. No one’s seen or heard from her sister in much longer.
Yeah. We’ve lost the Watcher.
Vedlyl’s words from earlier come back to me.
“Swear an oath to me. Mean it.”
My shoulders are being grabbed and I think he just shook me a little. “What the—”
The desperation in his eyes stops me. “Swear it.” Another shake.
“Fuck! Fine. What?”
“Swear you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you. Not even your brother.”
“Fuck, Ved . . .”
“Ianythi, this is fucking serious. End-of-everything serious.”
I may be immortal, but no one wants total Armageddon. Not even the gods.
No bodies? No life here? No, thank you. “I swear I won’t tell anyone what you’re about to say.”
He isn’t satisfied until my aura bursts around us. “I’m going to tell you something no one knows. I think I might be breaking part of an oath if I do, but we need to find her. Nythi . . . I’ve known all this time where Nylicia is. And now we’ve lost her body.”
“What the fuck? Her body?”
“Yes. She projects herself out of it.”
“Because of the Fieren,” I whisper, mind spinning to catch up. I knew. She confessed millennia ago.
But how far gone . . . gods, how did I not notice? “Where was it?”
Vedlyl hesitates and I get the feeling that I’m really, really not supposed to know what’s coming next. “She . . . was with my sister.”
“Cy’s mom?” In Kremia? With Cailyptsia? My eyes widen. “Are you saying . . . Holy shit, she’s—but Zex—holy shit, Ved, she’s—”
He shakes me again. “Missing. That’s what matters most. We need to find Spari. If anyone might know what’s going on, it’s her. Trust me on this.”
I want to tell him to wait. To discuss this with me. To help me deal with the ramifications of what I now know.
Of what it’s going to do to a whole family if this gets out.
I’m ripped out of my memory by a loud shuffling sound.
Nearly a hundred feet behind me.
In the park beyond the black gate.
Following my hearing, I peer over my shoulder.
Red eyes.
The world stops.
The creature’s back curls slowly, lips curling away from huge canines.
A silvery-black wolf.
Hellhound.
My heart thumps. Why would the King of Hell send one of his creatures after me? Usually they only come to this dimension to hunt and drag indebted souls to hell.
Or to spy.
Someone stops feet from the Gnetica and I feel that presence like a touch all over my back. Cold spreads. The hairs on my nape stand on end.
Apprehension is a fist around my throat. Don’t know where the thought comes from, but the truth of it can’t be denied. It is watching you. Reporting telepathically back to Lucifer.
He and his son are talking again.
“Nythi.”
Time is razed through. In a single millisecond, recognition hits razor sharp, as thirteen-thousand-nine-hundred-and-eighty-two years collapse under the weight of his presence.
He’s found me.
Movement next to me, a blur. I’m a faster blur as I dodge, but not fast enough. A pinprick pierces my neck.
Fuck! A dart?
Yeah, but I’m not feeling anything.
Blind with panic, I dart across the street, jumping over the incoming yellow cab. He doesn’t see me, thanks to the Gnetica, but the presence following me obviously can.
Enzyria. My attempt to flash with the thought ends with me almost crashing into the rail across the street.
That motherfucker. He somehow nullified my ability to dematerialize?
No time. I haven’t looked at him but feel him land inches from me.
Like a panicked animal, I vault over the gate, pumping all my speed into my legs. He might’ve collared my flashing abilities, but that was all he took.
I’m still flooded with power.
Adrenaline.
Faster. Faster. Past the park. Past the unsuspecting humans walking up and down the streets. Cutting through allies. Running utterly blind, only enough concentration to sustain the energy shield and my determination.
He follows me and so does his voice, starting to grow stronger in my head. Throughout the centuries, it became nothing more than an occasional murmur. Whispers of my name.
Now, it’s taking hold again, shackling me back to my living hell.
He’ll kill me. I’m so far gone, one whisper of a touch from him and the Fieren will eat me alive.
And he will, too. Despite his love for Axia, he will.
I’ve always known this. Always known what he wants.
The King of all Vampires wants my godly blood. It’s like a high-octane drug for him.
Stumbling at the thought. Concrete gives way beneath my feet. No time to stop and fix it.
“Ianythi!”
That voice alone is like shrapnel going through my veins. All I feel is the ache.
Eyes watering, I push my legs to go faster, faster, and out of nowhere, my mind is dragged kicking and screaming into the past.
“I need to do this, little one. It is fated.”
“Please, Kain. Do not go to her.”
“My entire life has been dedicated to having her. It must be done.”
And it was done. He made sure of it.
Illion help me, I bled so much that night . . . I thought I was about to die when Nylicia came for me. She helped me escape.
Then came fourteen millennia of running from this male. Only to be caught now.
No! Not caught! Run faster!
I do. Until the city begins to thin. Until the population becomes sparse. Through his thoughts, I know he could’ve caught me already.
I slam the door between our minds, but not before realizing his intent. He wants me to calm down. Burn it off.
Not happening.
Forests all around us now, growing denser. At the speed we’re going, we’ve probably covered hundreds of miles.
A black blur cuts across my vision.
It’s him. Blocking my path.
I dig my heels in to stop.
He catches me up against him. We slam into a tree with the momentum, sending the top half hurdling to the forest floor.
Shouting in pain, I slam my hands into his chest, jumping back. Instantly, my skin’s hot, my insides freezing.
Searing heat pulsates in my gums, down my throat.
My fangs elongate.
My insides bruise with a bone-deep ache.
Every single Fieren mark bursts to life. The black veins. The spilled-ink stain surrounding my irises, whereas normal vampires have red.
In the black tank top I’m wearing, the red and dark-silver mark dominating my left side is mostly visible. I know it is.
“Nythi.”
Can’t move away. Gods, this hurts. Curling my arms around my middle, I grit my teeth.
“Fuck. Look at what I’ve done to you.”
Yes. He did. I want to demand that he respect that and get the fuck away, but talking’s impossible.
Especially when he steps fully into view.
I get my first look at him since that night he left me to go to Axia.
He’s the same, yet different. Back then, his red-black hair was a long curtain down his back. Now it’s short, a perfectly disheveled mess on his head.
He inherited that shade from his father. That tanned skin, too. His silvery-gray eyes were a gift from his mother, Lilith.
Looking like pure fucking wealth in dark gray slacks and a long-sleeved black shirt, he holds out a hand towards me.
To me, he’s still the most beautiful male ever created.
And I hate him for that with every gods damned fiber of my soul.
He comes closer.
Curling my arms up to my chest, I fucking beg him, “Please. Go. You have n-no idea how h-hard it’s been. You need to go so I can be okay.”
My name leaves him again on a low breath.
I don’t remember moving, but suddenly my back’s up against the bark of another tree, and Kain’s in front of me, hands braced on either side of me as if he caught me.
Mini-convulsions are immediate. The urge to cry is rising and I think I’m about to have a seizure.
A tear slides down his lean cheek, over the curve of his clenched jaw.
A fucking tear. “Why do you always chase me? What the fuck do you want from me? Why don’t you just let me live my life in peace? Don’t you owe me that much?”
All these years, every single time I imagined asking him those questions—and of all the answers I ever could’ve imagined him giving me—his next words are hands down the least I expect.
Stares locked, he ducks his head closer. “I want my wife back, Nythi.” His eyes bleed, the whites flooding with inky red. His fangs, already razor sharp, peek through his parted lips.
He cups my chin, growling with pain when I lock up and cry out. “This is the only way we can fix it. And I fucking want my queen back.”
I plead with him, “No. Don’t. You’ll kill me.”
He ignores me, eyes fixated on the design on my neck that marks me as his. “No, I won’t. I love you.” His fangs sink into my neck.
Chapter 40
SOLERIA
I t’s been a week-in-half since that night.
Well, ten days and eight hours.
Yes. I’m very aware how pathetic it is that I know that. I keep waiting for more time to pass. For the feeling of Ianthen fully inside me, coming so deep, to begin to dissipate. For my memory to become less sharp.
Beyond stupid. For weeks I fought this attraction, refusing to give in, while conscious that sleeping with him once, just once, would be the kind of memory that would never go away.
I’m going on two times—yes, I’ve finally admitted it—and this war with my body is getting out of control. I keep telling it that it’s never going to happen again; the pulsating heat in my veins shouts back that it’s only a matter of time.
God, he’s just so fucking good. The perfect, selfish, no-holds-barred lover. My mind keeps fantasizing about all the things we can do now that I’m immortal.
All the other places we can tear apart while going at each other.
“Sol, have I told you how much I love that part-Grecian, part-Egyptian, part-Sex Goddess vibe you have going on?” Ismini asks, walking next to me.
I burst out in a surprised laugh.
On my other side, Dimithinia nods sagely. “I used to dress like that . . . until my husband could no longer handle all the ‘attention’ he swore I was getting. Which I doubt is true. No one was looking at me. No one would dare give me that kind of attention.”
“You were getting it,” Iss and I say together. There’s no way she wasn’t. The woman is stunning in a fucking hoodie, for God’s sake.
Staring down at myself, I look at the dark blue, silk dress I’m wearing. The deep V that stops right before my belly button. The gold lace and yellow diamond details along the bodice edges. The skirt of the gown trails six feet behind me; in the front it stops right at the floor, one leg bared by a slit.
This world is a desert realm. If not wearing battle uniforms, most of the citizens lounge around in skimpy clothing and sandals.
Total gladiator hotness.
In that vein, I’m rocking my own flat pair of gold gladiator sandals.
All that’s missing is my crown.
I’ve accepted it, but I still don’t know how I feel about that. Other than my resolve to see it through. Running from destiny is pointless. Mama always told me that.
“I wonder how Eve is doing breaking the news to Zen.”
Ismini’s comment reminds me of our video chat with Eve earlier. She’d given us an update of how it’s going for them in Zethal. The peace demons put Zen through the ringer, forcing him to stand before the one-hundred delegates of the council and prove that his powers of Tranquility are still in his control.
Then, when that wasn’t enough, they had Eve prove she can control his powers of Vengeance if need be.
As expected, she did so, but not before “setting them straight” about a few things.
Their stay there has been approved, but it’s tenuous at best.
And to think, two-in-half months ago, our greatest worries were how the restaurant’s profit was doing.
Well, Eve’s and mine. Ismini lived her whole life knowing about this immortal world and waiting for the other shoe to drop.
We passed on to Eve the message Ianthen gave us, informing her that Zen’s brother was actually his twin and that his name was Xias. She cut the call and rushed to find him immediately.
“It’s going to hurt,” I reply to Ismini. “There’s no doubt about it. I can only imagine what finding out my dead mom had another kid would be like, let alone that kid being my twin.” We turn the corner onto the main hallway leading to my chambers.
A palace in and of itself, as Ismini called it.
Yes. One that takes up the entire one-hundred-and-sixty-fourth through the one-hundred-and-sixty-seventh floors.
In other words, the top three floors of this monster dark-grey-and-red skyscraper.
Beneath our feet, the dark marble gives way to the light, shiny shade that makes up the floors and walls here.
“You’re going to be showing that much of the hooters at the coronation?”
I laugh at my best friend’s question. “Of course. All the queens, including the last bitch, showed some skin. It’s hot here, and so am I. Viva la vida, I say.”
“Sol, I’m not sure that saying applies t
o this situation.”
“Of course it does, Ismini.”
Dimi clucks her tongue. “You do remember there is an overly possessive male out to kill anyone that so much as looks at you, right?”
Meeting her stare, I calmly inform her, “Are you aware there’s a male out there about to do the same to others over you?” My eyes drop to her own deep V, left open by the half-closed zipper of her armor.
“I have no idea what you are speaking of.” She says it utterly flat, her expression giving nothing away.
I wisely keep my smartass comment to myself. Besides, there’s a part of me that’s starting to suspect she really believes that.
We walk through one of the sitting areas and approach the enormous double doors leading to my room. On the other side of them, I can hear two deep, familiar voices talking.
Ianthen and Halamar?
What the fuck are they doing in my room?
Bracing myself for the sight of Ian, I wave my hand, willing the doors to swing open. Just as we step inside, and I’m looking around wondering what they were up to, someone flashes into the chamber.
A body crashes onto the light marble, blood spilling everywhere.
Along with those super long, navy blue strands of hair.
My mind recognizes who it is, the black veins all over her body, right as Ianthen screams her name.
“Nythi!”
Oh my God.
Ian flashes before his sister. In a second, he’s lifting her, placing her on my bed.
Nythi arches, blood gurgling from her mouth.
From the gashes at the bottom of her mating mark.
From the deep bite mark above those gashes.
Dear. God. Some kind of savage bit into her!
We all run to the bed. Ianthen throws up a Gnetica, crying out, “Add to it. Help me strengthen it so I can get Ved!”
Ismini, Dimi, and I do as he says. The air shimmers from the influx of extra power.
I add even more, meeting Ian’s panicked stare. “Whatever you need.”
“Halamar, you need to get out,” he says, not breaking our locked gazes.
“I don’t—”
“Halamar, listen to him. If he says you need to leave right now, then do so before I make you.” Nythi’s next scream punctuates my command.
Halamar vanishes.
Blood Drenched Conquest (Ryze Book 3) Page 34
