by Kimbra Swain
“He is in Texas, my Lord. We thought it best not to remove him at the moment. His mother is dying of cancer,” he said.
“So, you are telling me that you allowed her to be unguarded unless you were looking out for her. In that case, I will end your life here,” he said. Death dripped from his voice. No one in the room moved. Troy had backed against the back wall to remain out of the fray.
“I made a mistake, my Lord. We must go in order to catch up with them,” Jeremiah pleaded.
“I’ll get her back,” I said to him. His cold eyes flicked to me.
“Was she not good enough for you?”
“She is far too good for me, Sir,” I said. It was the truth.
His eyes narrowed as he studied me. “I can take you as far as the land of the Olympians,” he said, looking at me. “Beyond that, I am forbidden.”
“I’ve never fought them. What weapons do we need?” I asked.
“I have everything we need,” Jeremiah interrupted still keeping his eyes downcast.
Oberon’s voice rumbled out of him like an earthquake, “See to it, Tristan. This is your last chance to redeem yourself to me. Otherwise, I will cut you down. Let the Seelie come. I will wipe them from the Otherworld.”
“They would not come for the likes of me, my Lord,” Jeremiah said.
“You!” he turned to me. A long white finger pointed at me. “Don’t make me snuff out your kind. If you hurt her, I will torture you before I kill you. She is everything to me.”
“Fine way to show it. You banished her!” my tongue unleashed on him.
His shoulders stiffened. “You know nothing, Serafino Taranis. But I know you, Keme Rotag. I knew your parents, Kenneth Alderbrand. Don’t make me end you, Sheriff Dylan Riggs.”
He knew every name I had ever gone by. The two my parents gave me. The one I used when in Europe. The one I used here. He knew my parents. I had barely known them.
“Perhaps one day, if you find that you do deserve her, I will tell you the things you’ve always wanted to know. Bring my child back. My Gloriana.” His voice broke as he spoke her name. He loved her. I didn’t know the how’s or why’s, but I knew that look. That tone. Oberon, the ruthless king of the Otherworld, loved his child. His daughter. She didn’t even know.
“I swear on my life. I will,” I said.
He nodded, then exited the bar. I felt the force of a cold wind blow through the room as the air settled back in. We could all finally breathe.
“Come,” Jeremiah said, moving out to the front of the bar. He looked at the Buick, then back at us. “Maynard. Stay here. Keep things under control while we are gone. Do not, for any reason, come after us. Consider us dead if you don’t hear back soon. Contact the Sanhedrin in three days’ time, if I have not returned. Tell them where we went.”
“Okay,” Troy nodded but looked to me for confirmation.
“Do as he asks,” I said. “If I don’t return, you keep these people safe. All of them.”
He shook my hand. “See you soon,” he said with confidence. “Bring her home.”
After I grabbed my weapons from my car, we piled in the Buick. I sat in the front with Jeremiah. The man I didn’t know and Luther sat in the back. Betty stood at the back of the diner. Tears flowed down her cheeks. I’d never seen that woman sad. It broke my heart.
“Damn,” I muttered.
“She is strong. She’s been through worse,” Luther said.
“She’s amazing,” I replied.
“That she is.” I could hear the smile in his voice.
“This is Deacon Giles,” Jeremiah said, nodding to the man.
“Yes. Mr. Giles, you have a large farm here,” I said knowing the name.
“Indeed, I do, Sheriff. You should come visit,” he said.
“We make it through this, I most certainly will,” I replied. “Where are we going?”
“To meet Oberon,” Jeremiah said as he drove south.
“Tristan, huh?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“The Tristan?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“Heh,” I muttered.
“Where are we meeting Oberon?” I asked.
“Her stone circle,” he said.
“She has her own stone circle?” I asked.
“Yes, you are pushing my limits, Dylan. Stop asking fucking questions. I just need to know you are going into this with no reservations. We will kill today to get her back. Are you willing to do that?”
He really didn’t get it. “I’d burn heaven and earth to get her back,” I said. Luther grunted behind me. When I looked, I saw the faint twinkle in his eye like he was making me a fine burger while listening to his wife carry-on about nonsense.
We reached the end of a gravel road. Everyone exited the car. I checked and rechecked my guns. I carried two 1911s all the time. My power handled the rest. I wasn’t sure what our companions were, but I hoped to see them both in action.
We stepped into a clearing, and I gasped in awe. “She built this?”
“Yes,” Jeremiah said stepping toward the center stone. As we approached it erupted with blue light.
Oberon stood before us as he had in the bar. “We need to move quickly. I’ve cleared a small path to your contact in Greece,” he said.
“Let’s go,” Jeremiah said. Oberon opened a free-floating portal above the center stone. One by one we stepped through. It slammed shut as Luther was the last to come through. I had only been in the Otherworld once. It wasn’t like this. Oberon’s world was dark, dank and musty. He moved quickly down a corridor lined with soil and roots. The roots reached out to touch him as he passed. His cloak would caress the long tendrils causing the brown fingers to shiver with delight. Servants touching their king. I had never seen such subtle, dominant power. If Grace ever embraced this, she would be impossible to deal with. A smile cracked my lips. I’d give anything to see it.
Oberon stopped raising his hand to one of the outstretched admirers. It coiled around his hand as he purred a language I did not know. “This one, Tristan. Do not be gone long. I will not come for you except that you fail. Then, you will owe me your life.”
“Yes, my Lord,” he replied.
“I will open the way. You pass through, then I will close it behind us,” Jeremiah instructed.
“I’ll lead,” I offered. He nodded. I touched the root feeling the zap of power as Jeremiah opened
the door. I suddenly found myself in a stone room with twenty armed guards bearing the star of David on their chests. More Sanhedrin. My hand hovered over my gun, as Deacon and Luther appeared. Finally, Jeremiah stood before us all. He bowed to his brothers. Silently, they left their room, except one.
“Shalom, Jeremiah,” he spoke with authority.
“And to you, Loukas,” he responded.
“I was not aware you were bringing,” he paused. “Friends.”
“The job cannot be done by one man, even me,” Jeremiah replied.
“You should let her go this time. The den is thick. We’ve found no weaknesses in their defenses,” Loukas said.
“We will not let her go,” I growled. His eyes burned into me. I returned his flaming stare.
“Serafino, please,” Jeremiah pleaded.
Loukas laughed. “She’s enchanted you as well. Fools, all of you. We have the chance to end the legacy of the Otherworld. Take back rule and avenge the dead. Yet, the lot of you seek to rescue its heir.”
Jeremiah grumbled, “We do not have time for this. If they bit her back in Shady Grove, the taint will take her before we get to her.”
“She is already a lost cause,” Loukas said.
I rushed him, only to be held back by Deacon who was incredibly strong. “I’m going anyway. I will bring her back,” I spat at him.
Jeremiah stood between us. “We need his permission to cross to the closest safehouse. Please, Dylan. Let me handle this,” he pleaded. “Contrary to what you might think, I want her back more than any of you.”
“That’s not possible,” I said through my teeth.
He ignored me, turning his back to all of us. “Luke, can we go to the safehouse?”
“It’s your life to do as you wish. I will not stand in your way. However, if she is tainted, do not bring her back here,” Luke said.
“Thank you,” Jeremiah said.
Luke waved his hands, and a circle formed below us. Encompassing us all, it swirled with silver light. There was a sudden flash, and the stone room changed to a very similar stone room. This one was quiet and devoid of pompous assholes.
“You need to learn when to shut the fuck up,” Jeremiah growled at me.
“I just want her back,” I said.
“Why? You still can’t be with her. When we get her, I will have to heal her, which will include her mind. She won’t remember any of this past what happened at Hot Tin. If she is tainted, you will have to put her down,” he said.
“I will not! I swore on my life!” I said.
“She won’t be around to collect,” he smirked.
“You heartless bastard!”
“Dylan, just calm down. We need to go into this den with a clear head. Focus on Grace. If we get her out, forgetting this ever happened will be the best thing for her,” Luther coaxed. I wondered if Jeremiah brought him just for this reason. He was a peacemaker.
“I can’t kill her,” I choked, trying to rein in my emotions.
“Of course not. She will be fine,” Luther said.
Jeremiah paced the room as I calmed myself. Finally, he turned to us. “It’s time to go.”
Grace
The world swirled around above my head. I lay flat on my back, looking up at a candelabra that actually held real candles. The wax dripped down on my skin. I saw the splats of red wax across my stomach and chest. I couldn’t feel it at all. My body was numb. As my senses came into focus, I saw that my arms were bound straight out from my body on each side. My feet were tied at the ankles to the wooden table that my body laid upon. Two dark puncture wounds oozed blood on both my wrists.
“She is awake,” a smooth voice said behind me.
“I see that,” an equally smooth voice responded. This voice was older, and the first respected its owner. “She is exquisite. She will be a fine queen for me.”
“Fuck off,” I managed to mumble.
His laughter filled the room. Several other laughs joined him. There were more than just two of them. I couldn’t see any of them.
“Any bets on how many bites it will take to drain her? To turn her?” The elder man asked the room.
“What are we wagering?” another answered.
“Slaves?” the elder responded.
“Slaves it is. I will take the bets,” the man said.
A pale face hovered in front of mine. His eyes were black with no color and barely a bit of white around the edges. His skin was almost grey, it was so translucent. However, he was muscular. His jaw line was sharp. Dark black locks hung down around his head. He could have made a great cover model for a romance book had he not been dead. I knew his kind. The easy way to put it was Vampire, but this particular breed was a vrykolaka. He could drain me, then taint me with his venom. It would take a very long time to turn me because my will would be stronger than any he had ever come across. However, I saw the look in his eye. He didn’t care how long it took, as long as I turned. Little did he know that the evil inside me matched his own. Doubling down wouldn’t work well in his favor. Worst case scenario: I turn into an evil, blood-sucking, fairy queen with far too much power and no moral compass. Perhaps it wasn’t much different from what I already was.
“Dylan led me right to you,” I said.
Confusion flashed in his eyes, but quickly he steadied himself. “I’ve been coming for you for years,” he said.
He didn’t know Dylan. It meant that Dylan was coming for me. He said he would. I couldn’t give up. I wouldn’t. They would have to break me first. Even then, I had to hope that my father wouldn’t let me die this way. Only to rise again as one of the monsters he hunted.
Oberon was the king of the Unseelie, but he sentenced many of them to death for acting outside of his laws. He ran a ruthless regime. One that would banish his own daughter.
Perhaps Jeremiah would come, but I had to think that my hopes rested on a plain, southern, good ol’ boy. Dylan Riggs. With his sandy hair and devastating smile. I just needed to admit what he did to me every time I saw him. I might enjoy it. But I reminded myself that he was taken. That he left me. That he betrayed my friendship. Something I hadn’t given in centuries.
The elder man circled the table, looking over my body as he went. “What are you doing?”
“Deciding where I want to bite first,” he smiled. He reached across me and ran a cool finger down my right breast. “Maybe here.”
“Get your fucking hands off me,” I growled.
The sting of his hand flared on my cheek as he struck me. I felt the copper tang of blood rise in my mouth. He continued to circle as my head spun from the strike.
“Perhaps here,” he said, tracing the edge of my belly button. I giggled because it tickled. I think that pissed him off more than cussing him. He jerked his hand down between my legs, squeezing between them. Pain shot through me as he clamped down. “I own you, Gloriana. All of you. I will touch what I want when I want.”
“Blah! Blah! Dominant bull shit. You have a small dick, don’t you?” I asked.
“Gag her,” he demanded. Another pale man whose eyes weren’t as dark shoved a cloth into my mouth. I rolled my eyes. It wasn’t the first time I’d been gagged. Over the years, I’d tried lots of things in the bedroom, this kind of shit never did it for me, but I wouldn’t let him get to me either. I was sure he had a small dick. He didn’t protest otherwise. Pretty much a confirmation. Something dead that long couldn't be formidable.
Suddenly I felt a searing pain in my right thigh. Looking down, I watched as his fangs tore into my flesh. Blood pooled around them as he smiled a bloody smile. “Take as you wish, my family, until she turns.”
He stepped back into the shadows. The searing pain shot through me again as another man buried his fangs in my left bicep. He sucked, drawing blood out of me. It trickled down over the curve of my arm. He stuck his tongue out and licked it. It was kind of erotic, and if he hadn’t been dead and a vamp, I might let him do it again. The fairy inside of me screamed in agony as the venom laced itself with my blood. I felt the fight inside of me. Each droplet of blood turning to my own venom. Yes, keep it up, boys. You won’t like what comes out on the other side.
Don’t give up. His words echoed through my head as I passed in and out of consciousness. If I stayed awake, it hurt more, but I could fight it with what little magic I had stored in my tattoo. If only I had used my power in the bar, all of them would be dead, but so would Nestor. I couldn’t do that to my bartender. He was a good man. I hoped he survived.
Time seemed to smash together like too many youngins’ in the back seat of a car. I heard gunshots. Screams. Voices. A voice I knew. The voice that told me not to give up. I had almost lost the fight. My eyes kept rolling back in my head. For once, I wanted to see Dylan Riggs keep his word, but what I saw, I could never forget.
Dylan
We walked up to the door of the large home in Northern Greece and knocked on the door.
“Serafino leads us in. Follow him, but not too closely. Give him plenty of room,” Jeremiah instructed the other two men. Deacon Giles was the hulking goat beast known as Krampus, and Luther Harris shifted into a being similar to my own. Large curling horns stretched behind him. Embers floated from his dark skin. He was a cursed being. A rebel djinn known as an Ifrit. Somewhere along the line, the peacemaker had been a very, very bad genie.
Neither could match me in a fight. I drew my pistols which were mostly for show. An implement, no different than a wizard’s wand. “Watch me burn them down,” I smiled. Heat and rage welled up inside me. Mine or not, I wasn�
��t giving these forsaken souls the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.
A pale man with a smirk on his face opened the door. “Well, who do we have here?” he asked.
I raised one pistol. Tried to think of a catchy line like a punk-ass wizard, but instead, I pulled the trigger, pushing my mother’s power through my hand and the trajectory of the bullet. Lightning connected my hand to the bullet as it sank into the heart of the surprised vrykolaka who gurgled. Then instead of dusting like a typical vampire, he melted. Electricity coursed through his undead body, shaking him to his bones. His skin, tongue, and eyes liquified as I held the power to his heart. He became a puddle just before his bones crashed down into a mix of grey and crimson goo.
I looked back at the guys behind me who stared at the swirling pool of flesh and blood. “Watch out for that splat at the end,” I quipped. I looked up to see another victim barreling toward me. One shot, the crack of lightning, the roll of thunder, and a puddle of ichor. Rinse and repeat, we blasted our way through the house. My guns, although mundane, never ran out of ammo, I wasn’t shooting bullets, I was shooting the power of my heritage into those who deserved a taste of the long electrical arm of the law.
Luther and Deacon took out vamps from behind as Jeremiah gingerly dodged the mess I had made. He guided me with directions, while I wailed away on the entire den of scum. The corridors of the house were slick with blood, yet I didn’t see any of them rushing to drink it. Strange how tastes change when you are the food.
“The next door is a ritual room. She should be there,” Jeremiah instructed. I fired twice at the guards who were hulking brutes, tattooed beyond recognition. Their puddles were slightly darker than the others. Jeremiah spoke a few words, and the door exploded into splinters.
The next sight caught my breath in a hard knot in my chest. I lost concentration, but Luther knocked a charging vamp to the ground, as I fired a shot never taking my eyes off her. Tied to a wooden cross laid across two stands like a table. She faced upward. Blood dripped from holes in her arms and legs. The dark holes puckered at the edges with purple bruises. As each of the demons stepped toward me I yelled, “No!”
