by H. C. Brown
* * * *
The king held up his hand to still the guards waiting to pounce on the intruder.
“Who are you, and how in the Lady’s name did you breach my security?”
“I am Lord Passio.” The man genuflected. “This island belonged to me before your Pride existed.” Passio smiled. “I have come to make you an offer for your prince. He is safe in my dungeon for the time being.”
The King shook his head. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Oh, you will believe.” Passio touched the hilt of his sword. “I am sure Dallin will contact you soon.”
“If what you say is true, what do you want?”
“I will trade the prince for the Spellweaver residing in your dungeon.” Passio lifted his chin. “She obviously is of no worth to you, so your decision is easy.”
The king’s phone buzzed. He turned his back and spoke to Cruz. His worst fears realized, he closed his Ocular phone and swore colorfully. He spun around and glowered at the strangely dressed man standing before him in the solar. “So you do have Prince Dallin.”
“I may be a demon, but I do tell the truth some of the time.” Passio smiled. “Do we have a bargain—Prince Dallin in exchange for the lowly Spellweaver? I only require one soul to appease my master, Lord Baltor. This is such a small request for your crown prince, do you not think?” He dropped a document on the table. “My time here is limited—make up your mind.”
The king ran a hand through his hair. “I only know the prince is missing at this point. I have no proof you have him.”
“Will this do?” Passio dropped Dallin’s gold signet ring into the king’s palm. “The royal seal, I believe?”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Have the Spellweaver brought here, sign the contract, and I will leave Dallin in a place you can find him.” Passio looked at his fingernails. “You have seven minutes.”
The king picked up the contract. “What guarantee do I have Dallin will be returned unharmed?”
“Read the contract.” Passio raised a brow. “You can read, I assume?”
With a grimace, the King reread the document, and then met Passio’s gaze. “It says that you require a soul. Do I assume this is the Spellweaver?”
“I need a soul—any soul will do.” Passio yawned. “Do we have a bargain?”
This contract will rid me of my problem. The king smiled. He cared less about the damn Spellweaver. He had no problem exchanging her and her bastard cub for the prince. He lifted a gold pen from the table and made his mark on the contract. He turned to his squire. “Bring the Spellweaver. Jump her here. I do not have much time.”
Lailii panicked the instant the king’s squire appeared in her cell. She got to her feet, drawing a blanket around her shoulders against the chill in the dungeon. Without saying a word, the young squire clasped one of her arms. She reached for Zane, her fingers closing around the collar of his jacket. The next second, she found herself in the king’s solar with Zane at her side, zap raised. She recognized the dark magyck in the room and turned to face Passio. Her legs trembled. Could this be the old demon everyone feared, this young, handsome man?
“Uncle, what are you doing?” Zane dropped his zap and stood in front of Lailii. “This cruelty has gone far enough.”
“So she has bewitched you as well.” The king backhanded him across the face. “Step away, whelp, she is going with the demon.”
“No.” Zane stood his ground. “You cannot do this.”
“He has kidnapped Dallin. She is the trade.” The king laughed. “A very poor trade but the contract is signed.”
“Yes and a soul is part of our bargain.” Passio gave a throaty laugh and withdrew a sword from a scabbard at his waist. “I choose your soul.” With one swift movement, he decapitated the king.
The king’s body slid to the floor in a sea of crimson. The king’s grotesquely twisted lips still moved in the bloody, spinning head. Zane stood openmouthed, his face frozen in a mask of terror. Lailii wanted to scream, but no sound came out of her throat. Passio’s long fingers curled around her arm, and she spun into a kaleidoscope of colors.
* * * *
Underworld
Dallin paced the confines of the cage. He needed a plan. There was not much to work with, and time was difficult to gauge. The guards had returned sporadically to torture the prisoners. The beasts tied each man to a crucifix and whipped him to unconsciousness. The sickening sounds of the men’s cries tore at Dallin’s heart. During the beatings, the guards never uttered a sound—not a grunt, nothing. Racking his brain for ideas, Dallin went over the battle with the Army of Lost Souls. The mutants had cried out during the battle and bled like pigs. He concluded that the guards were not mutants as he had suspected, but rather conjured beings. He knew the spell used to create slaves. Many Prides used this form of magyck because they detested inequality. He sighed. His uncle was old school; he expected his subjects to bow and be subservient. At least the king paid his servants well.
The door to the dungeon opened. Men cried out in panic. Passio preceded the guards, holding a red silk cloth over his nose, his eyes dancing with amusement. Dallin reached for the blanket and slung it around his hips. The thought of the man’s eyes on his naked body made him sick. His stomach cramped. Perhaps the guards would beat him while Passio watched. In a moment of complete clarity, he decided Passio would never hear a cry of pain from his mouth. You will never break me. His mind flicked back to the first time he went into combat. His father’s voice echoed in his memory. “Show no fear.”
Dallin straightened his shoulders and stood in the center of the cage. He met Passio’s gaze. “Is this the best accommodation you can provide? Or have you not noticed it stinks in here.”
“Well, I could have offered you a bargain for more suitable lodging, but alas you will not be staying.” Passio moved closer to the cell. “I am surprised to see you on your feet.” Passio waved the silk cloth in front of his face. “You look fine, not even a broken rib or two. I will have to supervise my guards in the future.”
The next second, darkness surrounded Dallin; the moons and stars flashed before his eyes. As he fell, his instinct to morph came too late, and he hit the grass with a thud. He lifted his head and stared into a clear, starlit night, the two moons bright overhead. Naked and without weapons, he morphed into his cat. Through cat’s eyes, he made out a forest about a mile away. This place was familiar. He could recognize Banin Mountain rising above the trees in the distance. Watchful for any sign of mutants, he lifted his head and drew in the scents of the night. No stench of the walking dead accosted him; only the heavy aroma of cooking permeated the air. He waited for the prickling sensation over his skin from dark magyck, lifted his head, and felt…nothing. Instead, he sensed there were people close by. He bounded into the darkness, keeping to the shadows, his black and white-striped coat camouflage in the moonlight.
He reached the edge of the forest and slinked toward the camp. Groups of men huddled around campfires, eating and speaking in hushed tones. Dallin recognized the scents of the men—his men. Cruz sat on a log, eating with gusto from a tin plate.
Dallin morphed and strode toward him. “Where is Stryker?”
“Where the fuck have you been?” Cruz jumped to his feet, the plate spilling unheeded to the ground. “You look like hell.”
“Maybe because I have been to hell and back. Answer the question.”
“He is on his way back to the castle. He thinks you are dead.” Cruz scratched his cheek. “I told him to go see the Lady and ask for help.”
Dallin dragged a hand through his hair. “I need clothes. Where did you put my backpack?”
“It is in my tent.” Cruz pointed behind him. “I will get you some food.”
“Do not bother. I do not have time. I need to fill you in on the situation”
Dallin headed for the tent with Cruz on his heels. He sat on the cot and dragged clothes from his backpack. “Passio took me into the Underworld t
o trade for Lailii. If I am here, the king has traded her for me.” He pulled on his pants. “I cannot save her on my own. The demon guards are monsters.”
“How can you possibly enter the Underworld? We have sealed all the Gates.” Cruz rubbed his chin. “That damn fissure is useless. It could lead to Baltor himself.”
With a growl, Dallin pulled on his boots and stood fully dressed. “Passio lives in a fortress, but inside is a Gate. I recognized some of the scenes. One is on top of Devil’s Peak.”
“On Fae Island? I find that hard to believe.” Cruz scratched his head. “A demon Gate in our own backyard and we did not notice? You have to be mistaken.”
“It is on the east side. I could see Knight Watch Castle in the distance.”
“That is sheer rock. It is impossible to get there, even on a flybike.” Cruz frowned. “There is no place to land. How do you expect to get an army up there?”
Dallin strode from the tent. “I have no idea. Give me your phone. I will contact Stryker.”
“The phones have been out for the past couple of hours.” Cruz took the phone from his pocket and handed it to him. “Maybe the damn thing will work now you are back.”
He took the phone and met Cruz’s gaze. “Get the troops moving. I must get home immediately. My only hope is to consult with the Lady.”
The phone buzzed. Dallin flipped it open, and Zane’s hologram appeared. Tears streaked the young man’s face. “Dallin? Thank the gods. I have tried to reach you for hours. The king is d–dead.”
Dallin stared at his brother’s hologram in disbelief. He could hear Cruz’s sharp intake of breath at his side. “What happened? Take it slow.”
“Everything has gone to h–hell.” Zane buried his face in his hands.
“I cannot help if you do not tell me what has happened.” Dallin sighed. If he must coax the story from his brother, he would. He lowered his voice. “When did you get back with Kaden?”
“About four hours ago. Peter came to us frantic because uncle had locked Lailii in the dungeon.” Zane met Dallin’s gaze. “He silvered her.”
Fear curled in Dallin’s belly. “He what?”
“I tried to remove the silver, but it had a binding spell on it. Kaden could not reach you by phone and it would take a week to contact father. I left straight away to let you know what was happening.” Zane drew a shuddering breath. “Next thing I know, I am in the s–solar with Lailii, and a demon is standing there. He made a trade with the king. He wanted Lailii in exchange for you.” Zane covered his eyes. “The d–demon cut off uncle’s h–head and vanished with Lailii.”
Biting back grief, Dallin stared at his brother’s hologram in disbelief. Dear Lady, the demon had Lailii. Pain stabbed his chest. Oh, little one, I should never have left you alone. How could his uncle have done such a thing? Why did the demon kill him? He had to get home and beg the Lady for help. “I am leaving now. Contact Kaden, and tell him to turn back. I am on the way. Tell Stryker. In my estimation, he should be landing shortly.”
He shut the phone and stared into the darkness. Bone-deep grief, not for his uncle but for Lailii, tore at his heart. Gods, he had promised the Lady to protect her from Passio, and he might have just as well handed her over to him. Bile rose in his throat. His sweet Lailii had suffered by his own flesh and blood. He spat on the ground. “Damn you to hell, uncle.”
Chapter Ten
Underworld
Lailii pulled the blanket around her and glared at Passio. “Y–you killed the king.” She tried to push the gruesome images from her mind. With the thought of protecting her cub, she straightened her back. She would not show fear. Drawing a deep breath, she attempted to control the sobs in her throat. “W–what do you want with me?”
She stared at the man dressed in a light blue silk jacket with white lace falling over his hands. His matching pants ended at the knee in white stockings, his feet pushed into blue silk slippers with white bows. The man looked less like a demon than anyone she had ever seen—no mutant blood ran in his veins. Yet he killed with no remorse. With an evil grin, Passio glanced at her wrists and gave a low chuckle. The silver bands vanished. Lailii tried to pull her magyck around her, but her powers were weak from the protective spell around her cub.
“Kaos come and see my prize.” Passio spoke to an empty space beside Lailii.
The air shimmered. A twirl of white smoke seeped from the floorboards, rising up and forming a ghostly shape.
“Do you want to scare the girl?” Passio frowned.
The ghost became whole. Lailii blinked. This man had red, flowing hair and emerald-green eyes. He dressed similar to Passio, but his choice in silk was yellow. He waved a lace handkerchief at Lailii and winked salaciously.
“I am Kaos, sweet temptress.” He inclined his head. “What may I call you?”
Lailii swallowed hard. These were demons, these angelic-looking boys. Was this some kind of sick joke? She trembled. Her fingers gripped the edge of the blanket. These simpering males were going to kill her. The thick scent of violets overwhelmed her, and she covered her mouth. “I think I am going to vomit.”
“That is a bit long.” Kaos rubbed his chin. “How about we shorten it to vomit?”
“She means she is going to puke.” Passio growled. “We had better take her to her room.”
The demons gave jumping an entirely new meaning. Freezing air rammed her body; colors rushed around her. Lailii squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her hand on her stomach. The awful perfume did not leave, and she opened her eyes again to see Passio standing in front of her. Kaos, with a smug grin on his face, leaned casually against the doorframe. They were in a large bedroom. The room had a dresser, a bed, and little else.
“I think you should rest. I will arrange refreshments for you.” Passio waved her to the bed.
Unable to flee, Lailii sank down on the edge of the mattress. She bit her bottom lip. What did they want from her—goddess, not her cub? Passio hovered protectively close to her. She lifted her gaze to stare at his handsome face. “Why am I here?”
“All I want is to share a little of your blood.” Passio sat beside her. “I am not a monster. I do not intent to bind you in silver or restrict your powers.”
With a shudder, Lailii stared at the floor. “My blood? Why would a demon want my blood?”
“Demon is such a harsh word, do you not think?” Passio waved a hand. “Demigod is the correct name for us.”
Fallen angels, those beings so evil the Great One banished them to the Underworld. This creature sitting beside her with the simpering voice could not possibly be the great Lord Passio— right hand man of the demon, Baltor? Lailii’s head ached. This must be a dream; but no, not even her imagination could possibly create the king’s bloody murder.
“She finds us confusing.” Kaos glided across the room. “You expected horned beasts, and we disappointed you.”
Lailii met Kaos’ gaze. The demon’s eyes changed from green to red and back. She swallowed hard. “Why do you want my blood?”
“To enhance our powers with your own, sweet lady. Your blood will allow us a little time in the sunshine.” Kaos smiled. “Surely, you would not deny us a break away from this place to redeem ourselves?” He touched Lailii’s face. “Is it not your goddess’s way to forgive?”
Pulling her head away to avoid the demon’s cold fingers, Lailii gasped. He had touched her through her magyck as if no barrier existed. She shuddered, fear crawling up her spine. “She will not forgive you for kidnapping me. I belong to her champion. You fall afoul of the gods by taking me away from my mates.”
“Your mates are here.” Passio reached for her hand. “I will allow them to call on you, but each visit must be paid for in blood.”
Lailii shuddered. “They would never allow this to happen.”
“They remain alive so long as you comply with my wishes.” Passio frowned. “We do not want to hurt you. In time, you will love us.”
Remain alive? Had the demon kidnapped Dalli
n and Stryker too? Her cub was better off dead than born in the Underworld to the mercy of these blood-sucking fiends. They all were. Lailii lifted her chin. “I will never love you, and I know in my heart, my mates would rather die than let me submit to you. We have a sacred bond. You may as well kill us all now, for I will be useless to you. My magyck will soon fade. I need sunshine, love, and happiness. There is none of this in hell.”
“Lailii, you underestimate me.” Passio chuckled. “I know you recharge your powers with sex. I will allow you that enjoyment to regenerate your powers. By the time your mates grow old and die, you will see the benefit of having two virile demigods to pleasure you.” He drummed his fingers on the satin bedcover. “Now, do you agree to my terms, a little of your blood for an afternoon of passion and the knowledge your mates are safe and well?” He met her gaze his eyes blood red. “Or would you prefer I become the demon you despise. I will take you into the dungeon and slit your eyelids to make you watch while I peel the flesh from your mates.” He smiled. “I will enjoy listening to their screams.” He lifted her chin. “Do you know how many days it takes for a man to die without skin?”
The room spun. Lailii coughed, and then spewed vomit over Passio’s satin pumps. The demon swore and fled the room. Kaos’ cold hands lifted her feet and lay her on the bed. He wiped her face efficiently and sat beside her. Lailii covered her mouth. Her head throbbed. She turned her face away and ignored the demon.
“Drink this water.” Kaos tipped her head toward him and pressed a glass to her lips. “Rest now. In the morning you will see things clearer.”
