The Sceptre of Power [The Peacekeeper Journals Book 3]

by CJ England

  His answer was a deep reverberating laugh. “You think so?” Labraic's eyes went ruby-red and his beautiful mouth suddenly filled with sharp dagger-like teeth. “Without the Sceptre, you are nothing!"

  Brianna and Danolas watched in horror as, before their eyes, the demon changed. Smoke billowed up from the ground surrounding his body and the stench of sulfur filled the air. With an unearthly scream, Labraic grew until his head bumped against the cave ceiling, sending stalactites crashing dangerously around him. His skin split open, black mist pouring from the rent flesh, as his pale human disguise disappeared and was replaced with a red and black shaded leathery hide. Huge black wings unfurled stretching far out over the lake.

  Labraic's face was no longer human. More monkey-like with large bulbous scarlet eyes and a wide flat nose. Its gaping mouth was filled with uneven pointed teeth that were stained and broken. Two large horns jutted out of the top of its head, with two more poking out of his narrow cheeks. Its form was still humanoid, but the overlarge arms and clawed hands were more beast than man. The demon had no legs, only a pool of blood-colored smoke that burrowed into the cave floor beneath it.

  "Sweet mercy,” Brianna breathed. “Now what do we do?"

  Danolas gritted his teeth. “We fight."

  "And the Sceptre?"

  "Do you know where it is?"

  She shook her head. “No."

  He shot her a quick surprised glance, then gave his attention back to the demon. “It's in the water ... about halfway across."

  "How do you know that?"

  "It's where the vision trail ended. If that's where the trail ends—"

  "Then that's where the Sceptre lies,” she finished grimly. She looked up at the now completely transformed demon. “Can we beat him?"

  "Together, leannan, I think we stand a chance.” Danolas continued to keep his body between her and Labraic. “He will want to destroy you because you can find the Sceptre. Stay behind me."

  "But—"

  "This one time,” Danolas snarled, his azure eyes flashing his anger. “Obey me."

  Any reply Brianna would have made was interrupted by the sound of hooves on the passageway behind them. A second later, several pookas and their cluricaun riders appeared, racing towards the two witches, death in all their eyes.

  "I do not have time for this,” Brianna muttered. With a wave of her hand, she sent a slap of purplish power at the enemy. It mowed them over just as it had done before, its awesome strength and lack of control, this time a saving grace. She looked askance at Danolas. “I stayed behind you."

  He almost smiled, but then his attention was pulled back to the demon towering overhead. It was gazing at Brianna with a lecherous twist of its foul lips.

  "She is stronger than the one that came before,” Labraic said, almost conversationally. “I smell immortality on her, but it is new ... still to be tested."

  "You stay away from her!"

  The demon chuckled. “You have the desires and weaknesses of a mortal. Love, passion, protectiveness. Haven't you learned yet, High Priest, how false these emotions are?"

  "I have learned the opposite, Labraic. And, I know we defeated your brothers in the last battle because this love you mock is stronger than any hate you can manufacture."

  Labraic laughed in defiance. “You will not defeat me that way. Love has no strength in this place, and again, I have you to thank for it. Because of you, here is only anger and fear ... and confusion."

  Danolas’ heart dropped. He glanced at the silent Brianna and flinched at the pain in her eyes. Did Labraic know all their secrets? How?

  "If you want to take on love, demon spawn...” Gallegar shouted as he and Kira marched hand in hand into the cavern, followed by the other Chosen and a pale-faced Jorad. “I suggest you start with us."

  The demon spun around and snarled at the Peacekeeper and her men. “You will not defeat me. You have no power here."

  "You are wrong, Labraic.” Kira's sweet voice echoed quietly. “Love has a place everywhere.” She glanced up at Gallegar and her eyes glowed. “And it is the strongest power of all."

  "You think so?” A gnarled hand waved at the nearby wall. “Let us see how your precious love stands up to centuries of hate!"

  There was a loud grating noise and everyone took a step back as the very wall began to move. Dust billowed, and rocks trembled. Out of the stone pushed a hand. Wizened and contorted with age, it was followed by the rest of the arm and then the torso and head of a man. A second being forced his way out of the rock, and then surprisingly, at their feet, a huge hound made its appearance with a gravely bark. Two men ... their eyes blank and their faces as still as the stone they lived in, stood before them. The dog sat beside them, his lips curled in an eternal snarl of hate.

  "They failed me last time,” Labraic said. “But that was against the Sceptre. They shouldn't have any trouble dealing with the likes of you!"

  Without a word, Lucas and Benjamin shifted into giant half-wolves, towering over the stone fighters. “I'll take you or your boys on,” the werewolf growled, his silver eyes shining in anticipation of a fight. “I don't give a damn how hard their heads are."

  Sounds could be heard from the chambers beyond. “Sounds like the protectors made it past the water as well.” Koran and Patrick turned slightly to meet whatever else might be coming though the entrance. “Seems we brought the battle with us."

  "And here it shall end,” Labraic gloated aloud. “I will destroy you all!"

  Suddenly, the room was filled with the rest of the company and a dozen or so pookas and cluricauns. Pulses of power and beams of color lit up the dark chamber as the two sides met in final battle. Danolas’ attention was jerked back to the demon when it moved closer. Its wide leathery lips lifted in a ghastly attempt at a smile. “I think its time to end this. What say you to that, Danolas, son of Darius?"

  Danolas’ eyes narrowed. “Sounds good to me."

  "And me,” Brianna piped up from behind him. “Sure, and I'm looking forward to kicking a little demon ass."

  "High Priest!"

  They all turned to see Jorad standing near them, his wand held out in his quivering hand. Danolas frowned. “Jorad, you should be fighting. Go help Kira."

  The witch shook his head. “High Lord, you are the one I'm to protect."

  Danolas was torn between appreciation for his acolyte's loyalty and irritation with his disobedience. He shot a glare at Brianna. “You're rubbing off on him."

  She gave an unladylike snort. “I like him better already, then."

  "You inspire such loyalty, High Priest. Such respect and love ... just as your father did and his father before him.” Labraic loomed closer.

  "What do you know of my family?"

  "I made it a point to keep an eye on your line.” The demon's eyes glowed. “I thought it best to make sure none of you could do me any harm."

  Danolas’ hand clenched his staff. His forehead was dotted with sweat, even though the room was cool. “What are you talking about?"

  "Did you ever wonder why your father died in such a relatively peaceful area? There was no war ... just a small uprising. Yet, a man ... an immortal, as powerful as he, was killed. How could that happen?"

  Icy fury shot through Danolas. “You? You had him killed?"

  Labraic chortled evilly. “It was a simple enough task. I just gave the spell to kill an immortal to a human witch doctor. He didn't even know what he was doing. Since he got caught in the backlash, no one could tell what really happened. All nice and clean. And good Darius was no more."

  "I will kill you!"

  "Better men than you have tried.” The demon showed his stained teeth in another gruesome smile. “Even your grandfather died trying."

  "My grandfather?” Danolas froze. “My grandfather isn't dead, he lives in Paris with my mother."

  Brianna stirred beside him. “Danolas ... I'm thinking we should just kill him and be done with it. Don't listen to him any longer."

 
"Oh, bitch witch ... Haven't you figured out by now, he cares nothing for you or what you want? You were a means to an end ... and an unnecessary one at that."

  Danolas was distracted from his lineage by that statement. “She isn't unnecessary. Brianna is the one who found the Sceptre."

  Labraic shook his head sadly. “Oh, I did think you more intelligent, but your lust for the bitch distracted you. Made it easier for me. But...” He shook his huge head and spat furiously at the pookas, cluricauns and rock men who fought the Peacekeeper's men. “You just can't get good help. That fact hasn't changed in a millennia.” He cast his scarlet gaze on the trembling Jorad. “You. How have you helped your master?"

  "Leave him alone!"

  The demon smiled, ignoring Danolas’ command. “When we knew the story of the Sceptre of Power had come out, I sent my people to kill the witch who could locate the weapon. But they failed me. Over and over, again. It wasn't until the witch had come back here, to Ireland, that I finally realized why.” His red eyes glowed menacingly. “But that is all in the past. Now, that witch will die."

  "Now, my Master?"

  Danolas turned to his First Acolyte. “Now, what?"

  Labraic's eyes flashed. “Now, this."

  Before anyone could move, Jorad swung around and pointed his wand, not at Labraic as would be expected, but at the High Priest himself. A stream of reddish-black power shot from the rod, slamming into Danolas with enough force it threw him against the cave wall, his staff clattering to the ground nearby. Brianna's scream mingled with the shouts of the Chosen as they tried to get closer, but the evil faerie folk would not give way.

  Labraic floated closer to where Danolas leaned, crushed against the wall by the demon magick. His face was triumphant. “You see, High Priest ... the problem was ... all that time they were after the wrong witch."

  Staring at the demon in utter shock, Danolas didn't hear Brianna's curses as she sent her power against the traitorous Jorad. Since he'd no reason to shield himself against his own acolyte, the damage done was severe. He could feel his life force leaking away through a dozen different wounds. His own man had tried to kill him ... delivering him into demon hands. Agony of a different kind speared through him.

  Labraic chuckled again. “It should have been so easy to kill you. I had everything planned. He was within your walls ... behind your shielding. But you can't account for a servant's stupidity. He thought I meant the girl.” It glanced over its massive shoulder at the two fighting witches. “He's a changeling, you see. Not very bright, obviously ... but tenacious. When I heard she was being sent to you, I knew I had to act."

  "Jorad?” Danolas asked in a strangled voice. He struggled against the invisible bonds, joy and grief warring within him. His protector hadn't betrayed him, but...

  "The witch?” The demon shrugged. “Who cares? Dead, I suppose. As you soon will be."

  "But ... why?” Danolas stared at the demon, desperate to understand. Nothing was making sense anymore. “Cyric was Brianna's ancestor, not mine."

  Labraic twisted a fist, making the magick around Danolas tighten even more. He bit his lip as agony ripped through him.

  The demon smiled, obviously enjoying its triumph. “Stupid, foolish witch. I think I could have beaten you without even lifting a finger. You are your own worst enemy. We don't give a damn about this Brianna or the witch who thought he killed me. Neither of them can operate the Sceptre. That has been proven.” With one sharpened talon, the beast sliced a line from the back of Danolas’ cheek down to his jaw. Blood welled to ooze slowly down the witch's neck. Labraic licked the liquid from its fingers with evident relish. “My purpose is to make sure you die. You are the last of your line."

  "What line?” Danolas shook his head to clear away the pain. “I have no connection to the Sceptre of Power."

  Labraic roared out an amused laugh, then followed it by cutting a thin ribbon of flesh from Danolas’ arm. The creature sucked the skin into its mouth like a piece of bloody spaghetti. “You witches have done my job for me. I should have left you to bumble around on your own. You are no threat.” It grabbed Danolas’ tunic and ripped it from his body, leaving his muscular torso naked. Methodically, the demon began torturing the imprisoned High Priest, using a single talon to cut deep gaping wounds in his exposed flesh.

  "Did your grandmother, Jasta, never tell you she was mated twice?” it asked silkily. “Your grandfather isn't your family by blood."

  "What are you talking about?” Anger swept aside the pain. “Delair is the only grandfather I ever knew."

  "He married your grandmother just after her mate was killed. Perhaps love ... perhaps lust, it matters not. But she was already carrying her dead husband's child."

  "You're lying!"

  "Why should I?” Labraic shrugged. “You are going to die. I don't care if you know the truth or not. But I do find it amusing you know none of this. If you had, this might have ended differently."

  Danolas struggled to maintain consciousness. “Who ... who was he then?"

  "I'll give you a hint...” The demon smirked toothily at him. “I killed him, too. Before, he could kill me."

  "Daegal!” Just that quickly, all the facts fit together and Danolas understood it all. He closed his eyes, cursing at his kind's way of hiding secrets. Labraic was right. Had he been told the truth about his lineage, he might have prevented his father's death. He would have known better how to deal with everything going on around him and they wouldn't be fighting a losing battle in a stinking hole in the ground. Knowing it had been him from the start, and not Brianna, made him want to weep. He'd pulled her into this mess for no reason. She was an innocent. He was the cause of all the trouble ... because he was the grandson of Daegal, the Martyr. The witch, who'd given his life to stop Labraic over eight centuries ago and because of that, everyone around him could die.

  The demon looked surprised. “Well, once you get going, you aren't as stupid as you look. Too bad your granny kept you in the dark. You might have figured it out on your own.” He smiled and stabbed a pointed claw deep into Danolas’ chest, snickering when the witch cried out in agony. “But now it's too late, isn't it. I've got you and you'll never have a chance to go after the Sceptre. I've won, and your line will trouble me, no more."

  * * * *

  Brianna's eyes flashed in fury as she sent another violet bolt of power against Jorad. But it wasn't Jorad, was it? ‘Twas just another changeling. She'd been standing close enough to Danolas and Labraic to hear the demon brag out the whole sordid story and she didn't know now whether to scream or cry. None of this was about her. It had been Danolas all along. He was the one who could use the Sceptre. He was the important one, not her. She ducked as the changeling shot a blast of hot red gas at her, then she turned around and sent a spear of magick back at him.

  She wanted to get to Danolas, but she couldn't. Every time she tried, the false Jorad cut her off, cackling evilly and sending bolts of hellpower at her. Her eyes filled with tears and she cursed herself for not working harder on the lessons the High Priest tried teaching her back in San Francisco. She was paying for her inattention now.

  Snarling out a Gaelic curse, she sent a bolt of purple lightning at the changeling. “What did you do with the real Jorad?"

  The creature gave sort of a lurching dance, its human characteristics disappearing as if they'd never been. “Gone, gone, gone ... gone between. No one can find him. No one can save him. Dead to the world. Dead to all."

  Brianna tossed her head. “I liked you better when you didn't talk to me.” She absorbed a slap of magick that took her breath away. The changeling was very strong. Unsure as to whether she could beat it, she decided on a different tactic. “So me boy-o, you fucked up pretty good, then. Wasn't me you were to kill. I'll bet your master will tan you for that mistake."

  The changeling gave a liquid snarl. “Not my fault. All thought pretty witch was to die. Even banshee was wrong."

  "No, she wasn't,” Brianna argued, hoping to
make it even angrier. It was hard to see the creature wearing a human face. Like rippling water, the face flowed and moved between Jorad's and its own. “She knew you wanted to kill me. So she was just responding to the threat. ‘Twas your mistake, and ‘twill be your punishment."

  Looking over its shoulder, the creature did another little dance. “No, no. Master understand. I had banshee killed. And I kill you. Make him happy."

  "Not bloody likely.” Brianna mentally crossed her fingers, and then laughed in the changeling's face. “You're gonna get in trouble! See, he's coming for you now."

  Fear filled the false Jorad's face and he quickly turned to face his master. Brianna sent up a quick prayer of thanks, and then drawing all her power together, sent a blast at the creature that lifted her off the ground as well.

  The changeling screeched in surprise and anger, but the tone quickly turned to pain, when a bolt of green magick joined with hers. The two powers intertwined, and Brianna looked over her shoulder to see Gallegar standing behind her.

  "I am with you, little sister,” he mind-spoke as he carefully helped her back down to earth. Taking heart from his strength, she turned back to the changeling and gave the beast even more. She reached deep within herself, and leaning on Gallegar's control, she poured her magick into the creature. It screamed, the body twisting madly in the air. Then, after only a few more moments, it disintegrated, leaving nothing but dust on the damp cave floor.

  Immediately, the green power was gone. Brianna turned to see a pooka leap up and tumble the vampire to the ground. She turned to help, but was stopped by his deep mind-voice.

  "Help, Danolas. He is the one who needs you, not me. Fear not, little witch. You have the power."

  Panic and confusion shot through her. How could she help? Her power, though strong, needed someone to guide and control it. Danolas couldn't help her. He was barely conscious under the demon's torture. They were still connected enough so she could feel his pain and her heart wept for him. But what could she do?

  There was a flash out of the corner of her eye, and for just a moment, she saw again, the Sceptre's trail. Understanding shot through her. By the Saints ... she may not be good in a fight, but she could swim.