The Adversary

by Thea Harrison

  “That is not what I want to hear.” The interloper tightened his arm around Pia’s ribcage, and another bone snapped. The world went gray. “Get them now.”

  “Go,” Dragos said.

  Someone raced out of the clearing. Pia watched the early morning clouds overhead. There was nothing else she could do. Or was there?

  The interloper said coldly, “I did not say you could rise.”

  Telepathically, Dragos asked, How badly are you hurt?

  Two ribs. Not bad. The broken ribs burned like hot pokers thrust into her side. To take her mind off them, she focused on the sky that writhed with the unseen.

  Hang tight, Pia, he said. The gentleness in his telepathic voice was at complete odds with the rage radiating through the clearing like an invisible sun. I’ll get you out of this.

  I know you will, she told him.

  “You do realize that if you kill her, there will be nothing holding me back,” Dragos said.

  “Yes, I do realize,” the interloper spat. He backed further away from the house. “That’s why I need those shackles. Keep back! I might not want to kill her—for now—but I’m going to very much enjoy hurting her. Every sacrilegious burn and bruise your servants gave to me, I will give to her. She dared to defy me, and I will crush her underneath my heel and rain pestilence down on all of you for disrespecting my holy resting pla—”

  “Jesus Christ, shut the fuck up,” Pia snapped.

  Her Wyr form had been freaking out for a while now, and she let the insanity take hold. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she hooked an arm around his neck, called up feral strength from the base of her spine, and yanked her head free.

  Searing pain blazed along her scalp as she left a handful of hair behind in his grip. Snaking her head around, she sank her teeth into his ear. I’m so sorry, baby boy.

  Liam’s blood filled her mouth, and the world went batshit.

  Screaming, the interloper tried to pry her head away. She hung on with everything she had, arms, legs, teeth. He got his fingers around her neck and squeezed, cutting off her supply of air.

  Then Dragos tackled them. When they hit the ground her broken ribs ground together, and pain washed over her in a towering tsunami.

  Darkness came as a relief.

  Chapter Eight

  Dragos had only two things on his mind: keep that bastard from fighting with magic and get his hand off Pia’s vulnerable neck.

  With one flattened hand, he chopped with brutal precision at the nerve in Liam’s forearm, just below the elbow. The interloper lost his grip on Pia’s neck. Simultaneously, Dragos spat out a null spell that washed over Liam’s body, and rage flashed in Liam’s blue eyes.

  How long would the null spell hold?

  Not long. A thrown spell was not the same as the one embedded in the shackle. He had moments at best.

  Pia’s arms and legs loosened, and her body went lax.

  No, baby. No, baby. No.

  Dragos caught her lolling head in the crook of his elbow, trying to support her spine. It was an impossible task as the interloper flung himself over, and the three of them rolled entangled across the ground.

  “As heaven is my witness, I will break her fucking back!” the interloper screamed. He jammed the heel of his hand at Dragos’s face.

  If he had hit Dragos straight on, it would have driven Dragos’s nose into his brain and killed him. But Dragos was all too familiar with that maneuver and jerked his head aside so that the interloper broke his cheekbone instead.

  Every murderous instinct roared at him to punch the interloper in the throat, but this was Liam’s body. The blow would crush Liam’s larynx. Holy fuck.

  Instead, Dragos went for the arm the interloper still had clenched around Pia’s torso. Throwing himself onto his back and swiveling around, he braced his feet and hips against the ground and pulled on Liam’s arm, fighting with all his strength to pry the interloper’s hold off Pia.

  The interloper roared in anguish, twisted, and brought one knee up to smash against the side of Dragos’s head. Then the others joined the melee.

  Rune plummeted like a meteor on the interloper’s legs, pinning them with his torso, and Graydon and Bayne lunged into play too, reaching around Dragos and Pia to grab Liam’s arm and lend their strength to prying him loose. Quentin threw himself into the writhing pile, reaching with both hands to shield Pia’s head from any blows.

  Then Dragos caught a glimpse of Khalil striding toward them, long dark hair blown across his face and partially obscuring his brilliant, diamondlike gaze. Laying one hand on Pia’s shoulder, Khalil announced, “I will remove this one now.”

  The Djinn’s Power raised, and a maelstrom washed over them. When it died, both he and Pia were gone.

  Roaring, the interloper bucked and kicked. Liam’s body was so strong, he threw Rune and Dragos off. Immediately, Dragos flipped to his feet and began the lunge back into the fight….

  He felt it, then. The null spell dissipated, and Liam’s human body shimmered and transformed into the dragon whose giant body dominated the scene. Still roaring, the white dragon spun around and swiped at the combatants with immense, deadly talons.

  Graydon dropped and rolled. One blow scooped Quentin into the air. He slammed into a tree and plummeted like a stone. Another caught Bayne and scored down his torso. Bayne’s blood sprayed Dragos in the face.

  There were other sounds, screams and shouts. Other magics. At the far edge of the clearing, Eva, Bel and Carling worked over Pia’s prone figure, while Khalil and Grace stood watching at her feet. Eva knelt at Pia’s head, cupping it in her hands. He could smell Pia’s blood.

  Why was there blood?

  Dragos threw himself into a shapeshift, and everything around him grew smaller. Fast as a cat, the white dragon whirled to confront him.

  The reality slammed Dragos like another body blow.

  Not in the entirety of his whole wicked life had he faced an enemy like this. They were the same size. The same in strength.

  And this was his son.

  The white dragon crouched, wings mantled and tail lashing, and bared long, razor-sharp teeth. He hissed, “If I knew how to breathe fire, they would already be burning. I might not know how to yet, but I vow I will learn.”

  “You can’t win this fight,” Dragos said coldly. Inside he was rigid with terror. Telepathically, he roared, IS SHE ALIVE?

  Bel looked up at him. Yes.

  YES was a desperately insufficient answer. He needed to know what was wrong and longed to race over there, but he did not dare turn away from the threat facing him.

  “This is my land,” the white dragon growled. “My land, do you hear? I rule this kingdom. Anyone who stays is supplicant to me!”

  “You’re an infestation,” Dragos snarled. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other sentinels shapeshift into their Wyr forms until three gryphons, a gargoyle, and a black panther ringed the two dragons. The panther was limping, and one of the gryphons was streaked with blood, but they were all in fighting form. The sentinels kept their focus squarely on the white dragon, watching him with calculating predators’ eyes. “You’re dead, and your kingdom is dead along with you.”

  The white dragon narrowed his eyes. “Leave this land and I will let you and the others live,” he purred.

  “I don’t negotiate with terrorists.” Dragos paced around the other dragon, in the direction opposite from where Pia and the other women were, and the interloper turned with him.

  Come on, Liam. Fight him, son.

  “No? Then I look forward to finding your hidden children.” The white dragon looked down at himself. “This body has a tremendous appetite. I’m sure their tender little bodies will be indescribably delicious.”

  Dragos could almost hear what Pia would have said had she been conscious. Oh my fucking God, he’s still talking. He agreed with her. He’d heard more than enough.

  As he lunged forward, the white dragon crouched down even further and launched into the air.
Twisting, Dragos reached for the other dragon. His talons raked Liam’s hind leg, but he just missed grasping hold of him.

  Just then Aryal raced into the clearing. She wore a backpack. Looking around, her expression filled with affront. “I gave you guys as long as I thought I could. What the fuck happened?”

  Dragos vibrated with conflicting needs. He needed to chase after the other dragon, but he needed to check on Pia more. “Follow him but don’t engage,” he said to the other sentinels. “I’ll catch up with you.”

  The black panther leaped onto Bayne’s broad back, and the winged Wyr shot into the sky. Aryal spun in a circle, looking frustrated. As long as she held the null spell shackles, she couldn’t shapeshift into her Wyr form and join them.

  Finally, she dashed over to where Eva crouched and threw the backpack at her. Eva didn’t move her hands from supporting Pia’s head, but she jerked her face away. The backpack hit her in the shoulder.

  “Guard this,” Aryal ordered.

  “Ow! Fuck you, you fucking whack job,” Eva snapped. “Can you not fucking see I am helping to save someone’s fucking life here? I don’t take fucking orders from you!”

  Not bothering to reply, Aryal shapeshifted into her harpy form and launched after the other sentinels.

  During that exchange, Dragos shapeshifted into his human form and raced over to kneel at Pia’s shoulder. There was so much blood around her head, Eva’s hands were soaked with it. They would have to burn the blood so that there was no trace left of it. He thrust the thought aside.

  “What happened? What happened?” Carefully, he laid a hand on her chest, over her heart.

  Before he could sink his awareness into her body to see for himself, Bel lifted his hand away and with a gentle tug, she pulled his attention away from Pia’s pale, still face. He was not sure he would have allowed that from anyone else, but Bel was special to Pia so he focused on the Elven woman’s compassionate face.

  “While the blood is frightening, it’s not important,” Bel told him. “When Pia attacked him, he was holding onto a fistful of her hair. She tore her scalp to get free from his hold.” She gave him a small, wry smile. “An action like that took a lot of determination, and it had to have been excruciating, but it wasn’t life-threatening. The serious injuries are internal. He was crushing her alive. She sustained four broken ribs, a spinal injury, and took some organ damage. Carling is working on healing those now.”

  That was all he could bear to hear. He pulled away from Bel’s hold, stroked the tangled hair back from Pia’s face, and sank his awareness into her body. Grimly, he obsessed over every injury, but Bel had been very accurate in her description.

  One of her kidneys… He wasn’t sure it could be saved, and he wiped his mouth at the sickened feeling in his gut. He was tempted to add his Power to the effort, but he knew better than to intrude on someone else while they were in the middle of a delicate healing.

  “When can she wake up?” he asked.

  “Dragos,” Grace said very gently. The Oracle’s pretty face was streaked with tears, her eyes filled with the black of the goddess Nadir’s depths. “Her body is alive, but her soul isn’t there.”

  He shook his head sharply. Those words…

  They were unimaginable.

  “What the fuck are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that we have to ask her soul to come back,” the Oracle said. “And I don’t think it matters if you’re religious or not, because I think we have to pray.”

  The ground around Dragos smoked. He surged to his feet. Then he reached out telepathically further than he’d ever had before. Azrael.

  I am here, brother. For the first time, Dragos noticed the god of Death standing under the shade of a nearby tree. Nobody else seemed to notice his presence.

  Only one person could make Dragos feel this extreme kind of terror. Out of countless kingdoms and nations and epochs, out of an endless panoply of outsized villains and magicians and petty tyrants filled with meanness and greed, only one.

  Only one.

  And ironically that would be the last thing she would ever want to do, to make him feel this afraid. But it happened every time her life was in danger. Being so desperately in love with someone and mating with them—it came with a heavy price.

  And he paid it gladly, and he would keep paying it again and again, but holy gods just let her come back.

  Was that a prayer?

  He stalked over to Azrael. Give her back, goddammit. This is my mate. She is my life. Her body is still working. You have got to let her come back.

  I don’t have her, Dragos. Death’s green gaze was regretful. She is in another realm now.

  When Pia opened her eyes, she lay in the arms of a seraph who knelt at the base of a vast tree. Her wondering gaze traveled from the noble, radiant face bent over hers, to the many wings flowing from its back.

  She had no idea what to do with that, so she looked at the trunk of the tree, but it kept going and going, fading into the distance on either side. And she had no idea what to do with that, so her gaze traveled upward to the intricate canopy of branches and leaves overhead.

  The tree filled the sky as far as the eye could see. It was as big as a mountain, maybe bigger. Countless shining seraphim flew among the branches.

  Oh, my lands…

  It was too magnificent to look at for long. After staring a few moments, she couldn’t bear to take in any more. Averting her gaze, she searched for familiar landmarks in an effort to get some grounding.

  In the distance, a graceful figure danced. She or he had long black hair. As she… he? pirouetted, his… her? hair whirled around them, creating and recreating an infinite variety of patterns. The dancer was utterly mesmerizing, indescribably beautiful.

  Feeling overwhelmed, tears rolled down Pia’s cheeks. Carefully the seraph wiped them away.

  “Am I hallucinating?” she asked.

  She raised a hand to touch her own cheek. Only then did she realize that she wasn’t wearing her cloaking spell, and her skin shone with the delicate, pearlescence of the moon.

  “Shining One,” the seraph said in its many voices that rang like the deep tolling of a bell. “Welcome to our realm. We are so very pleased to welcome thee here.”

  The multitude of voices resonated throughout her being, and she felt herself vibrate like a tuning fork. And it wasn’t lost on her that she could understand the seraph now. Had it cast a communication spell on her, or was it from the Power of just being in this place?

  “Your realm is very beautiful, but I didn’t mean to come. This has to be some kind of mistake.” She pushed upright, and the seraph eased her into a sitting position against a root of the tree.

  “We laugh, we cry, and we learn. There is never a mistake,” the seraph told her. “We beseeched our Lord and Lady, and they granted our petition for thou to come.”

  Thee and thou? Beseeched? She couldn’t be hallucinating. Her brain didn’t have the capacity to make this up. She felt the back of her head and pressed a hand to her side. She felt no pain, no exhaustion, and no hunger either. In fact, she had never felt better in her life. “Where are your Lord and Lady?”

  The seraph gestured to the dancer who soared into a leap that was impossibly thrilling to witness. Pia wiped her face, which had somehow become wet again.

  “Okay,” she said. “I can see they’re busy. When will they stop so I can talk with them about going home?”

  The seraph gazed at her. “They do not stop. The Dancer dances the universe into existence. We tend to the Tree and pay homage to the dance. That is our privilege and purpose.”

  The Dancer dances….

  Shakily she asked, “Are you saying that is Taliesin?”

  To the Elder Races, the seven Primal Powers were the linchpins of the universe. Taliesin, the god of the Dance, was the first among the Primal Powers because everything dances, the planets and all the stars, other gods, people, molecules, everything. Dance was change, and the universe was consta
ntly in motion.

  Then there was Azrael, the god of Death; Inanna, the goddess of Love; Nadir, the goddess of the depths or the Oracle; Will, the god of the Gift; Camael, the goddess of the Hearth; and Hyperion, the god of Law.

  The seven gods existed in a pantheon of mythology, but Pia had met Azrael more than once, talked with him, and had slapped his face when she was in labor, and he looked almost exactly like Dragos, who was known throughout the Elder Races as the Great Beast.

  Dragos liked to shrug away the whole topic by saying there were any number of extremely Powerful creatures who could do miraculous, magical things, including Pia, and he was right. And honestly, the whole subject made her extremely uncomfortable, so she was just as happy to leave it alone and enjoy living her life.

  But this place—this was far beyond anything she had ever experienced or could have imagined. The grass underneath her legs was exceptionally, compellingly green. The light in the seraph’s ageless gaze was endlessly absorbing, and she felt like she could gaze into its eyes forever. This realm was so intensely alive and real, it made the rest of her life feel pale and far away.

  She didn’t want the rest of her life to feel pale and far away. For the most part, she was happier than she had ever dreamed possible. She adored her mate, and she loved her… She loved her children. There was something wrong with one of them, wasn’t there? What were their names?

  Panic blew out her mind. As she sprang to her feet, the seraph straightened too and faced her. “I need to go back,” she said urgently. “This place—it’s so incredible, but it’s doing something to my mind and just now I couldn’t think of my children’s names. I still can’t. My children—do I have boys or girls? I’m not sure anymore. They are the loves of my life. That is unacceptable, do you hear me?”

  “We hear and understand,” the seraph replied. “For those who visit our realm, sooner or later, they all want to give up their previous existence and stay. We would welcome that from thee if thou wished.”

  “Thank you, but I do not wish to give up my life!”

  “Then listen as I tell thee an important tale, because we do not have much time.” The seraph took her hands. “Once there was a very Powerful and wicked ruler. His name was Senusret. He wanted things that were not his to take. He summoned one of my brethren to his kingdom—to thy realm—and killed that which should never be killed.”