Baron

by Plum Pascal

  I’m in a foul mood. I can’t help it. I’m scared for Eilish—I’m worried about what Variant will do to her. And there’s rage inside me towards Variant that I haven’t felt in a very long time—not since I saw him standing on the battlefield beside Lamia, both of them laughing at me.

  But, I’m not angry with Variant only. At the same time, I can’t help but feel angry for another reason altogether.

  “If he doesn’t realize she’s an intact angel, she might still have a chance,” Cambion continues.

  Flumph moans from the ground beside Cambion. He glances down at the sprite and shakes his head. There isn’t anything Cambion can do for him. The creature has been blasted by powerful magic. He either survives or he doesn’t.

  “And why the fuck do you think she might still have a chance?” I demand, suddenly hating him for giving me hope. Hope has no place down here in the depths of this shithole. Truthfully, hope died the second we stepped foot in here.

  Cambion shrugs. “Eilish is not a threat to Variant if he believes she’s without her wings.”

  “Yet, he’s ordered that all angels should be returned to him, even if they possess the marks,” I argue. Marks that prove their wings have been amputated. Eilish possesses the marks but they’re a farce because she also still has her wings.

  “If he learns she’s Succubus, she also might have a chance,” Cambion continues.

  “How do you figure?” I demand. “Because he fucked Lamia for as long as he did?” Lamia, the Succubus bitch who made my life a living hell for far too long.

  “Succubae are powerful,” Cambion argues. “And Variant knows that. If he found out she was Succubus, maybe he’d decide to use her power.”

  “Or maybe he’d just decide to kill her faster,” I spit back.

  “It was a fair point,” Cambion insists.

  “It’s all just hypotheticals,” I grumble. “The only thing we can count on is that not one of us knows what the fuck Variant’s going to do to her.”

  I notice with interest that Revenant remains quiet. The fucker.

  Cambion doesn’t respond and it’s just as well because his voice causes me to want to shove a pick straight through my ears. But Cambion isn’t the reason I’m so short-fused. No, there’s another reason altogether…

  I can still smell Eilish. Her scent hovers in the air, toying with me.

  And it’s not just the scent of her skin, her hair, her body. It’s the scent of her wetness, her desire. I already know the sweet perfume of her sex well. And now it haunts me, fucks with my head. I smelled her fragrance from the moment I regained consciousness.

  Revenant has had her.

  It’s a grim truth but, nevertheless, one I must face.

  And I suddenly hate Revenant from the depths of my being. I was never fond of him before, true, but now I can vouch for a hatred towards him that scorches my heart.

  He took what was mine.

  And he will suffer for it.

  “You fucked her,” I say the words to him as if they’re a verdict.

  Revenant licks the blood off his fingers as he glances at me with indifference. He shrugs.

  He was the last one to have her. And now… Now…

  I can’t finish the thought.

  “Don’t look so aggrieved, Dragan,” he says with feigned disinterest. “You made it quite obvious that your claim on her was temporary. I only regret not acting sooner.”

  I bare my teeth at the vile creature, which only amuses him further. “My claim on her wasn’t temporary.”

  “Hmm, funny way you have of showing you care then.”

  “You know why I can’t give in to my urges, you prick,” I glare at him with clenched teeth.

  “No, actually I don’t,” the asshole says.

  “What’s the point of this conversation?” Cambion interrupts. “Need I remind you both that Eilish is probably being subjected to death at this very moment? The least you can do is show some compassion.”

  His words weigh heavy on me and I can’t bear them. It’s easier to argue with Revenant because then I don’t have to envision what could be happening to Eilish. And whatever her fate is, it’s a truth I can’t swallow.

  “Eilish is Succubus,” I force the words out. “That’s reason enough for me to keep my distance from her.”

  “Why?” Revenant continues. “Because you had a bad run with your first Succubus, and it scarred you forever after?” His tone is syrupy, overloaded with sarcasm.

  If he were in this cell with me, I’d kill the fucker.

  “You don’t understand what it’s like to live your life, day in and day out, subjected to the whims of someone else.” I take a breath, even as I wonder why the fuck I’m bothering to explain this to him. He doesn’t care and I don’t care if he cares. “You don’t understand what it feels like to be robbed of your life force and your sanity, to be forced to fuck not just one demon you detest, but three of them.”

  “No, I don’t,” Revenant responds, his tone of voice icy. “I just know what it feels like to be forced from the grave with no idea why or how.”

  “Will the two of you fucking stop feeling sorry for yourselves, for Chrissakes?” Cambion interrupts. “You both had it bad, okay? But now we need to focus on how the fuck we’re going to get out of here.”

  I laugh at the absurdity of Cambion’s comment. “You think we’re getting out of here? Where the fuck is your brain?”

  Flumph sits up and looks directly at me. “What you gonna do ‘bout the angel?” His voice sounds pained and jagged. That magical blast he suffered clearly did a number on him.

  “There’s nothing to be done,” I say with a sigh as I retreat to the back of the cell. I need to get away from the lot of them, but there’s nowhere to go. Maybe that’s Variant’s plan—to force each of us into our own hell—a hell entirely devised around being unable to escape each other’s company.

  “For the love o’,” the sprite continues. “Never mind… one o’ yous gonna have to do somethin’. We can’t just sit here with our thumbs shoved up our butts, waitin’ for King Dickhead to kill us.”

  Revenant speaks up. “There’s nothing to be done.”

  “Soze you just givin’ up?” Flumph insists. “Just like that?”

  “We are sitting ducks,” Revenant continues.

  “The magic at work in this place is much stronger than I would have anticipated,” Cambion agrees. “Yet, every enchantment has a failsafe,” he continues. His voice grates on my nerves.

  “What you talkin’ about?” Flumph insists.

  “In case the caster is killed, his or her handiwork must be able to be undone by someone within his tribe,” Cambion continues. “It’s a rule in magic that all accomplished sorcerers live by.”

  “Then we gotta find us that failsafe!”

  “Dragan...” Cambion says, clearly expecting my help.

  I think it’s a waste of time but I don’t utter a word. It’s not as though there’s anything else to do, other than wonder what the fuck Variant is doing to Eilish and if she’s experiencing pain in the process. It’s a thought that absolutely wrecks me so I extend the feelers of my shadow magic, allowing them to leach out of me and surge forward. Each tendril of shadow snakes around the prison cell, inspecting every crevice for any sign of the antidote to the magic at work here.

  I feel nothing. I open my eyes and see Revenant contenting himself by leaning against the wall, clearly doing nothing. It’s as if he doesn’t care if we get out of here or not. “Don’t you feel the need to escape?” I demand, irritated with his existence.

  “I don’t feel anything,” he responds.

  “Well, do the rest of us a favor and look for the failsafe.”

  “What’s the fucking point?”

  “Getting out is the fucking point.”

  He stands up straighter and stares around the dungeon for a moment or two before his eyes settle on mine again. “There. I helped. Happy now?”

  I turn my back on the surly
bastard and run my hand along the grooves in the corners of the stone, feeling for a draft of air or something that might hint at a way out.

  “Well we ain’t the only ones who been in here,” Flumph says as he tosses a large bone at Cambion’s feet. “That a demon or somethin’ else big an’ ugly.”

  The guttural groan that escapes my lips is entirely instinctual and appropriate for the extent of annoyance I feel. Yes, mainly annoyance with myself.

  I should have done something at the point when the soldiers walked into the room, I tell myself. Instead, I failed her. Just like I failed Thoradin. And now myself.

  “This be all elfs’s fault,” Flumph announces as he glares up at Cambion. The little shit has big balls, I’ll give him that much.

  “What’s my fault?” Cambion insists.

  “This whole fuckin’ mess!” Flumph responds. “It was your friend that told them soldiers where we were anyhow.”

  Cambion attempts to stomp on the little creature but it moves out of his way.

  “What? Can’t handle the truth, faerie?” I ask because the idiotic sprite has it right, for once. It is Cambion’s fault that we’re in this fucking mess. It’s his fault that Eilish is dead and if not yet, will be soon.

  “What fucking truth?” Cambion demands as he approaches the bars and glares at me.

  “Has it crossed your thick skull that we should never have come back to the Fae realm? That we should never have gone to Earlann when we knew Variant’s men were all over your realm?” I start. “I told you it would blow up in our fucking faces.”

  “Because your plans have worked so well for us so far,” Cambion chuckles dryly. “You would have gotten us killed a long time ago if I hadn’t stepped in and taken the role of leader.”

  “And just how would I have gotten us killed?” I demand.

  “I seem to remember the last time you were in charge, do you? If not, I’ll remind you—we lost the fucking war to fucking Variant because you couldn’t keep your fucking dick to yourself.”

  “That be why the war was lost?” Flumph interrupts, sounding surprised and confused at the same time.

  I take a page from Revenant’s book and plonk my ass in the corner of my cell, losing myself in the darkness.

  THREE

  Eilish

  The Castle in the Sky

  A large oak door stands between me and my enemy.

  Variant.

  Just the word makes me shiver.

  I want to cower, but there’s another overwhelming feeling within me that spurs me to fight the soldiers who hold me captive.

  Regardless, Dragan’s words still echo in my mind.

  Remember what you are, Eilish!

  Remember what I am…

  The soldier forces the door open and shoves me inside. Iridescent curtains hang from the gilded ceiling as if clouds have been spun into thread to create the delicate fabric. A fountain trickles against the far wall, building a serene atmosphere in the vast quarters.

  Part of the floor is pale blue marble while the rest is plush carpet. Two large doors open to a terrace that overlooks a fragrant garden. Light music drifts through the air as if to accompany the sounds of the fountain. And the smell is heavenly—a floral aroma mixed with some exotic, sweet spices.

  Opal frames line intricate carvings in the stone walls that depict scenes of worshippers paying homage to a godly king. Other carvings reveal erotic entanglements between one single man and numerous women.

  My eyes continue to scan the room until they rest on a bed that takes up the center. The bed is large—it could easily accommodate at least three adults. Sheets of the purest silk and a mountain of cream-colored pillows decorate the mattress. But it’s the headboard that draws my attention. Gold chains glow faintly with magic, meant to restrain someone to the enormous bed.

  Something shifts in the corner of the room. I turn to face whatever is lurking there, but I see nothing. At that exact moment, I feel the slightest of touches on my shoulder. I jump as if someone has struck me hard. And a man chuckles. The sound is like the whisper of bells in a summer breeze.

  I turn and that’s when I see him.

  His hair is as fair as the curtains that drop from the ceilings. Darker than mine by merely a shade or two. The golden hue of his skin contrasts sharply with his white robe and captivating green eyes. Lush lips and slender brows complement the regality of his features.

  “Angel,” he says as huge, white feathered wings unfurl from his back, arching out ten feet in each direction. I feel my eyes widen as I take in their incredible beauty. He flaps them a few times and the wind carries across my face, bringing with it the clean yet woodsy scent of the man, himself.

  Variant is far more beautiful than any male or female has the right to be. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to kill me.

  “You do realize it’s common courtesy to bow before your king,” he continues as he offers me a smug smile and his wings retreat into his back. My heart starts pounding with anxiety as I realize my mistake. Regardless, I won’t ever refer to him as my king.

  “What do you want from me?” I demand.

  “Ah, now where are your conversational skills,” he replies with a practiced smile.

  I raise my chin, trying to hold on to some semblance of pride as he stalks toward me. The nearer he comes, the more my heart races and the more my breath runs the opposite direction. I’m terrified of him, but I don’t want him to see my fear.

  “I’m not interested in making light and useless conversation,” I answer.

  He walks right up to me, invading my personal space. I don’t flinch when he touches my face. He doesn’t say anything for a while, just stares at me and in staring at me, I can see the admiration in his eyes.

  “You are stunningly beautiful,” he announces.

  “All angels are,” I respond. I swallow hard as I glare back at him. “Case in point.”

  He smiles, accepting the compliment. “Yes, while this may be true of our race in general, I would dare to say you are the most beautiful angel I have ever beheld.”

  “How can you even consider me to still be an angel,” I demand, hoping he doesn’t already know my secret.

  “Why would I consider you anything but?”

  “Because you had my wings removed. And an angel without wings,” I start.

  “Is still an angel,” he interrupts. He continues to stare at me, inspecting me with a curiosity that causes my breath to catch. He glances down, following the lines and curves of my body. Then he reaches out and trails the swells of my breasts, down to my stomach with his index finger.

  His touch sparks something inside me that’s out of place beside the anger and repulsion that I feel for him. Lust. I close my eyes against the force of my desire, as I wonder why the Succubus is acting up again. She just had Baron… but somehow the need inside me wasn’t satiated. Yes, Baron fed me but I don’t feel… full. I still feel that same burning need and now it wants to slake itself on the false king.

  “A lock of black?” he asks as he reaches forward and snags the piece of black hair that hangs in my face.

  “What of it?” I demand.

  He studies the black hair, his eyes narrowed and calculating. I don’t know if he knows I’m part Succubus. Can he sense it? Dragan, Baron and Cambion certainly couldn’t but maybe Variant can?

  Or maybe he can’t.

  “Why do this to yourself?” he asks as he drops the hair, apparently believing I simply dyed it.

  “To represent the trials and tribulations I’ve faced,” I respond immediately, figuring he gave me an out so I should run with it. I definitely don’t want him to find out I’m Succubus. I have a feeling it wouldn’t help my cause.

  “Trials and tribulations, eh?” Variant asks as he faces me with renewed interest. “Tell me, beautiful creature, what business could two fallen kings have with a broken angel?”

  Two fallen kings?

  I realize then that Variant doesn’t realize Baron is amo
ng our group, although it’s just a matter of time until he sees Baron and quickly figures it out.

  “I don’t know,” I answer, holding my head up straight and high. I won’t crack in front of him. I’ll hold onto my dignity as long as I can.

  “Haven’t you asked yourself that exact question?”

  “No.”

  “Hmm,” he says as he begins walking around me, scrutinizing me as if I’m a horse he’s considering purchasing. “You’re certainly a delectable, little morsel,” he announces. “Perhaps fucking you is reason enough to keep you around.”

  His crude words cause me to swallow hard and when he stops walking and stands in front of me, it’s all I can do to hold his gaze.

  “You have nothing to say to that?” he asks.

  “No,” I respond.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Eilish,” I respond, still staring at him as he stares back at me. There’s a smile that plays with his lips and it makes me want to slap him across the face.

  “Eilish,” he repeats, enunciating both syllables. “Beautiful, little angel, Eilish, who has suffered such trials and tribulations.” Variant’s gaze strays meaningfully towards the bed before he returns it to me. “Tell me why you believe the others find you so enthralling.”

  I step away from him, but he closes the distance between us. “I don’t know. They don’t tell me anything.” My words aren’t exactly a lie—the three of them have their secrets they keep close to their hearts. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  Variant walks forward and I step back. He takes another step forward as I retreat, and we continue this dance until my back hits the wall. He’s maybe a step or so away from me and I hate the way my body wants to lean into his heat. If Dragan and the others knew how I was reacting to Variant, they’d be disgusted.

  I’m disgusted with myself.

  “Do you know what happened to the other angels?” Variant asks in a smooth yet husky tone.

  I shake my head and swallow hard. He petrifies me.

  “I captured them,” he says as he takes a step that wipes out the gap between us. He pushes himself against me and I feel his erection between my thighs. All I can do is keep my eyes on his.