Shattered Heir (Broken Gods Book 1)

by N. M. Howell

  He didn’t seem to let any of that haunt him, though. Sitting there, staring up at him, she could tell that he was filled with the same devotion as her other guardians. She still didn’t a hundred percent understand how it all worked, but she felt bonded to him. She felt protective. And above all else, she felt responsible.

  “Were you always this interested in technology? It’s not like we had anything like this in the castle. What about where you came from?”

  Keaven shook his head. “No, it’s nothing like that. We didn’t have anything like this growing up, when I was first born into this world.”

  “Then where does the interest come from? You seem to know so much more about technology than most people in the human world, it’s really unique. I’m not sure I totally understand where it all comes from.”

  Keaven’s face became more sober as she spoke, his eyes softening as he looked at her with an expression full of intense interest. “I dunno, I guess I just thought…”

  Rhea sat there waiting for him to answer, but his eyes dropped to the ground.

  She reached out and lifted his chin, meeting his gaze. “You thought what?”

  Keaven shrugged, his easy smile returning to his face. “I just thought that if I could learn more about the human world and their technology, it would bring me closer to you. Maybe we’d have something to talk about.”

  Rhea’s heart sunk, regret deepening in her very core. “For me?” She shook her head, not quite understanding what he meant. “But…why?”

  “When you left, we knew where you went,” he said. “But we also knew that you didn’t want to be found. You didn’t want us to follow, so we lingered behind as long as we could.”

  Rhea’s brow drew forward as she listened to him, soaking in every word. They had mentioned they had known her whereabouts, but she hadn’t realized the extent of it.

  “So you learned about technology so we can chitchat?” She tried to lighten the mood, offering him a small smile.

  Keaven shrugged again. “Yeah, I guess. But honestly, it’s the coolest shit. Games and the devices the humans learned to create. They’re completely incredible. I learned so much, popping back and forth over the last six years.”

  Rhea was shocked. “You were in the human realm while I was there?”

  Keaven nodded. “Yeah, but not too close. I’d never been to Detroit before. It’s a pretty grungy city, to be honest. It wasn’t quite what I was expecting.”

  Rhea laughed and shook her head. “Yeah, especially the area I was in. It wasn’t exactly palatial.”

  “But I learned so much coming back and forth, I would spend endless hours peering at the incredible things in the windows for sale and in the shops. I even learned how to buy time at the internet cafés. There’s so much to do there, as well.”

  Rhea tried to imagine a vampire sitting in an internet café in the human world and couldn’t help but laugh. The vision was hilarious, but she figured they would’ve thought he was just some other pale-skinned punk or goth kid in a long black coat.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked her, his brow furrowing together.

  “I’m having a hard time imagining you in an internet café, that’s all,” she said with a smirk.

  Keaven laughed, tucking the cell phone into his inner pocket, and pushing himself up to stand. “The internet, man.” He shook his head, his expression lost again in a daze. “That’s some really cool stuff. Honestly, you think magic is cool, you should try looking into how the internet actually works. Now that, if anything, is magic. Especially from humans.”

  He pulled Rhea up, extending his hand down to her. She accepted it, standing again. She stretched out her legs and arms, letting out a deep sigh.

  “Well, I’m glad you found something that you love,” she said to him.

  He beamed. “Thanks for the cell phone. If we ever go back to the human world, you can have it back.” He winked at her.

  She shrugged. “I have a feeling that life isn’t going exactly as I planned. I doubt I’ll be able to return any time soon.”

  Keaven’s expression softened again. “Don’t worry, Rhea. We’ll figure things out. We’ll get through this together.”

  She smiled and put her arm around him, pulling him close into a half hug. “Yeah, I’m sure we’ll manage.”

  They both shared a moment in silence together, and she leaned her head against his strong shoulder. He stood rigid, but after a moment he accepted the embrace and actually pulled her in tighter, relaxing his stance. There was a soothing and familiar energy about Keaven that relaxed her, made her feel content as if everything had become easier. She reveled in it for a long moment, allowing herself to forget the horrors of what they were about to embark on. The horrors of what she’d already seen and experienced in the last short day.

  The silence was broken by shouts in the distance. Keaven pulled away, his eyes intense, flicking around their surroundings.

  Rhea jumped and listened intently, her sensitive ears picking up on an increased commotion back up on the far side of the river.

  “What’s that?” Keaven asked. He stepped in front of her protectively, his arms outstretched. Rhea placed her hand on his back, listening as hard as she could.

  Heavy footsteps came and her guardians appeared at the top of the hill, silhouettes against the sun in the distance.

  Grayson’s voice carried in the wind, echoing around them. He sounded panicked, excited.

  “Bandits. Run.”

  18

  Without hesitation, Rhea bolted toward Grayson.

  Keaven jumped up and tried to stop her, but missed and ran after her as best he could. She was light on her feet and came upon Grayson quickly.

  “We need to get you out of here,” he commanded. His eyes were raging, his muscles heaving from exertion. He had run far and Rhea wondered where the hell they had been.

  “Where were you guys?” she asked.

  “Scouting,” he said. “They must’ve seen us arrive. They came in from the east. Six of them. I don’t think they showed up by happy accident.”

  “They knew we were here?” Rhea asked. “But we came through a valley pretty much, we couldn’t see anyone.”

  Keaven stepped forward frowning. “Someone from the circus could’ve tipped them off.”

  Rhea’s eyes went wide. “Do you think so?”

  Grayson nodded, his eyes darkening. “That’s a likely possibility. We best stay away from most public venues until we arrive at the castle.”

  “It doesn’t make sense,” Rhea said. “No one at the circus knew who I was. I had my glamor magic up.”

  Grayson began to roll his eyes, but managed to control his expression. “We’re not exactly a group that blends in, Rhea. Many people recognize the five of us as your guardians from when you were young. Besides, back at the village, people saw who you were. They could’ve sent warning, rumors could’ve spread.”

  Rhea shook her head, running her fingers through her hair, her fingertips tangling in the knots. “I still don’t…” She paused, her mouth hanging open.

  “What is it?” Keaven asked her.

  “The fortune teller,” Rhea whispered. “I didn’t admit who it was, but I have a feeling she knew. Or at least, that crazy ass little ball thing of hers seemed to know.”

  “Why, what did she say?” Grayson was on edge, his voice quick and harsh.

  Rhea shook her head slowly. She wasn’t about to tell them all of what the woman had predicted. She didn’t want to frighten anyone. “Nothing specific, I just got a feeling that she knew more than she let on.”

  Keaven nodded. “That’s fair—that sort of magic has a way of knowing things that can’t be explained.”

  “So who’s coming? Who did you see?”

  “The Emerald Fae.”

  Rhea’s eyes went wide. “The Emerald Fae?” Her mind seized, anger filling her very core. The Emerald Fae had betrayed the rest of their people, turning on them at the time of war. “What do they want
with us?”

  Grayson raised his eyebrow. “Well, us, nothing. You, everything.”

  Rhea nodded, chewing her lower lip. “Okay, what do we do? How big a threat are they?”

  Grayson scratched his chin, considering. “I’m not sure. Under normal circumstances six Emerald Fae wouldn’t be much of a problem, but given the fact that Aelon seems to have acquired some absurd magic that was unfamiliar to even us—the same that the elven assassins had that we met in Chicago—there is no way to know for sure how serious the threat is.”

  Rhea looked around, her body shaking. She felt ready to fight or flee, but she wasn’t sure. “How close are they?”

  Taelor’s cries answered that question for her.

  He shouted, and his body flew back over the hill. He landed hard on his back and skidded twenty feet over the grass. He pushed himself up and lunged forward, returning to the fight. He held his sword in one hand and the carved dagger in the other.

  Rhea’s eyes flared. She looked around frantically, trying to remember where’d she left the dagger. She caught a glimpse of the shining metal at the base of the tree and ran to it, her fingers grasping it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She turned to Grayson, her shoulder squared. “Let them come. I’m up for some serious ass kicking today.”

  Grayson stared at her for a long minute, silence deafening in the air. He then burst out laughing, nearly falling to the ground.

  Rhea faltered, her expression turning from sheer determination to anger. “What the hell, Grayson? Don’t laugh at me.”

  Grayson wiped a tear and stood straight up. “I’m not laughing at you, it’s just…”

  Rhea crossed her arms, glaring daggers at him. “You are laughing at me. Stop it.”

  She was small, but she was feisty. With a knife in her hand, she felt invincible.

  “You do look pretty badass there, Rhea,” Keaven said. “It’s just you look…”

  She turned to him, her eyes raging. “It’s just I look what?”

  Grayson shrugged, stepping forward and clapping a hand on her shoulder. “You look a bit more like a drowned rat than an epic warrior, that’s all.”

  Rhea smacked him in the chest as hard as she could with the palm of her hand. She recoiled and swore, shaking her hand out as it throbbed in pain from the impact.

  “Shit,” she swore. “You broke my damn hand.”

  “Walk it off, warrior,” Grayson smirked.

  “Shut up!” she shouted as Grayson and Keaven snickered at her. “It’s not my fault I’m out of practice.”

  Grayson raised his eyebrow. “You left when you were twelve, and how much practice did you even have before?”

  She was glad at least someone was finding enjoyment in this, as she was positively livid.

  Rhea was about to give him a piece of her mind when Taelor shouted again and the sound of their fighting drew closer. She tapped her foot on the ground and looked up at Grayson, her expression wild. “What lazy asses you are, just standing around while you let the other three fight your battles.”

  Grayson faltered, his laugh suddenly turning into a grimace. “Right.” He turned and ran.

  Keaven hung back, unsure whether to go fight or to stay with Rhea, but when Rhea bolted forward, he groaned and followed her.

  “What are the chances you’ll let me convince you to stay back?” he called as they both ran.

  “Not bloody likely,” Rhea called. Her grip tightened on the dagger as she ran after Grayson. She slowed as she neared the hill.

  Arry, Taelor, and Roan were still fighting, although four of the fae were already sprawled on the ground, either dead or unconscious. Her chest tightened as she looked down at them. The dead looked so peaceful and gentle as they lay there. She reminded herself that these were the enemy, the ones who’d initiated the attack, who had come to kill her.

  She glanced around, trying to gather her bearings. Roan had a fifth fae down, this one a female with long, deep green hair and eyes wild with anger. She swore and clawed at him, but he had her pinned and she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  She tried muttering an incantation under her breath and Arry kept returning to her, placing his hand over her mouth so she couldn’t speak. She swore at him, spitting through his fingers, and he laughed. They were clearly enjoying themselves, but Rhea couldn’t help but feel bad for the woman. Rhea sympathized with her, knowing how frustrating it can be fighting against those stronger than yourself. But again, she reminded herself that this was the enemy, so she tried not to feel too bad.

  A fifth Emerald Fae stood nearby. He was a larger man with cropped, deep green hair and eyes sunken into his face. He was holding his own against her guardians, casting spells at Taelor, who dodged them elegantly as he ran back and forth across the hilltop. Taelor lunged with his sword, dodging an attack that flew right past his left ear.

  Rhea had to duck under the incoming magic. She wanted to help Taelor, but she knew she would just get in his way. Grayson ran forward, and between the two of them, the enemy was outmatched. Grayson wound up and pummeled him with his fist, sending him flying. It looked like he broke his neck when he landed, a heavy crunch sounding as he made impact. Taelor jumped on him and slit his throat with the dagger, balancing perfectly on the man’s chest and holding him down as he slowly fell limp. When that was all said and done, it was just the one woman left.

  Rhea’s chest was tight and her breath ragged as she ran up to them, but she kept her distance when Roan gave a sharp look and raised his hands. “Don’t get too close,” Roan said. “This one’s got some strange magic that I don’t recognize.”

  Rhea took a step back and looked down at the struggling woman. She’d fought a brave fight. Rhea had to give her props for that.

  Taelor walked over, cleaning his bloodied dagger against his long coat and sliding it into the sheath on his belt. He looked down at the Emerald Fae, his expression blazing.

  “Who are you?” he asked her. He stepped up to her and placed his boot on her neck, choking her. She sputtered and struggled to breathe. She opened her mouth to speak and he let up the pressure just enough for her to get words out

  “Go die, you maggot,” she spat at him.

  Roan pressed harder on her chest with his arm, pinning her down firmly against the ground. She let out a quick breath, gasping. She was struggling to breathe and Rhea wanted to say something to stop them, but she knew it was foolish. They were doing what they had to do.

  “Tell us who you are and why you’re here, or else you won’t last another ten seconds,” Grayson said. He loomed over them, casting a dark shadow over her.

  She glared up at him, her body shaking, as much as it could, anyway, beneath Roan’s heavy pressure.

  “Lift your foot,” Rhea told Taelor, stepping forward. She placed a soft hand on his shoulder, and glanced down at the Emerald Fae with rage in her eyes.

  “You’re lucky one of us has compassion,” Taelor spat at the woman, removing his boot from her throat. She sucked in a pained breath, relishing in the sweet air and closing her eyes in bliss.

  “Who are you and why did you come?” Rhea asked her. The woman looked up at her, her green eyes bright in the sunlight, the color shining sharply against the redness in her face. “You are Rhea Greystone,” she said.

  Rhea nodded. “Yes. And I’ll be the last person you ever see if you don’t answer his question.”

  The woman swallowed, biting her lower lip. A trickle of blood spilled down her cheek, but she didn’t speak.

  “What is this magic?” Roan asked. He shook off his hands removing them one at a time from her chest, as if he were getting shocked by an electric force.

  “She is a scribe,” Taelor finally said, looking down at her as a wave of panic flashed in her eyes.

  Grayson’s eyebrows pulled together as he knelt down beside her. “A scribe? They’re rare, but I’ve heard of numerous races having the ability.”

  Rhea cocked her head, looking at her with
a renewed expression of curiosity.

  “What is a scribe doing with bunch of bandits attacking a princess?” Taelor asked.

  The woman shook and her eyes flared again. “None of your damn business, elf,” she spat.

  Taelor rolled his eyes and stood up straight, his arms resting on his hips as he stared down at her.

  “What’s a scribe?” Rhea asked, looking up at him.

  “Scribes have the ability to read and write in any language, even those unfamiliar to them.”

  Rhea raised her eyebrow. “What do you mean, even if they are unfamiliar to them? You mean they can learn languages fast?”

  Taelor shook his head. “No, not exactly. But they can translate anything, even if they don’t speak it themselves. The magic somehow can make them understand. It is quite rare. One visited Greystone decades ago, but I don’t think I’ve seen anyone with the ability for years.”

  “That’s amazing,” Rhea said, looking down at the woman in awe. She fought and struggled, trying to pull herself from Roan’s grasp. He peered down at her with that lopsided grin of his, unmoving.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” he finally said to her, laughing. It seemed to make her madder, and she spat up at him. Her saliva hit his cheek. He wiped it off and rubbed his hand dry on the front of her shirt.

  “I would have a little more respect if I were you,” Taelor said. “Considering we’ve got you and you’re not going anywhere.” He looked amused as he spoke.

  The woman finally stopped struggling and closed her eyes. “Fine. What the hell do you want from me?”

  Rhea step forward. She knelt down next to the woman, close enough to see her eyes clearly. There were strange symbols and patterns in her irises, different shades of green and gold that she could only notice when looking straight in her eyes at a close distance. “What was someone with such an amazing ability doing with bunch of bandits?” She finally asked, sitting back on her heels.

  The woman opened her eyes, rolling them in her sockets and finally settling her gaze up toward Rhea. “I’m not a bandit. They just paid really well and I needed the money.”