Chapter 39
CHAPTER 39
K ing felt like he’d been shoved into a fucking washing machine with the spin cycle on high. The world tilted, his stomach twisted, and for a second, he wasn’t sure which way was up. Finally, his body felt solid again, but his mind was still trying to catch up.
“Give it a second,” Kane’s voice rumbled beside him. “First time being transported is a bitch, but you get used to it.”
King let out a low growl, his vision still hazy. “If you say so.” He focused, his breath catching as he took in their surroundings. If he had to think what Hell was like, this was it minus the fire and brimstone. There was a feeling about the place, and it wasn’t a good feeling.
The air was thick with a red haze, the fog rolling low around his boots like living tendrils. The trees stood dead like twisted skeletons reaching for the sky. But they weren’t just dead. It felt like they were watching them. The feeling slithered down his spine, a sickening sensation of being observed by something... unseen.
A black-and-white photograph flashed through his mind—one Amara had taken, old and eerie. This place felt like stepping into that picture.
“Dead walkers to our left.” Creed’s voice cut through the fog of his mind.
King turned, his body shifting into battle mode as Raven and Charger stepped beside him.
“Ryker, King’s going to need a sword.” Raven’s voice was sharp.
Before King could blink, weight settled into his palm. He glanced down to see a sword in his fist. There was no flash of movement. No hands passing it off. His hand was empty one second, and cold steel rested against his palm the next.
His fingers curled around the hilt, the balance perfect. The weapon was an extension of himself, the weight familiar despite his never having touched it before.
“Damn.” He shifted the sword from hand to hand, testing its feel. The blade whispered through the thick air, slicing effortlessly as if it belonged there. “Guess it pays to have a Warlock on the team.”
What Creed had called Dead Walkers stalked closer, one leading the pack. Daniel began to walk as they all followed. The leader stopped in front of Daniel.
“What do you want, Demon Slayer?” It talked in a toneless guttural voice, saliva dripping from his mouth that was full of sharp teeth.
“Watch their teeth,” Raven whispered to King. “Their salvia burns like fire.”
“Nothing you can help me with,” Daniel said, throwing his arm out, and every walker dropped to the ground.
King’s eyes widened at the sight. Daniel looked over his shoulder at them. “Guess they aren’t on the Golden Blood yet,” Daniel smirked with a shrug, then continued to move.
“Does he really need us?” Steve asked, coming up beside them. “This fucking place gives me the creeps and makes me have to shit every single time I’m down here.”
He had to agree with Steve, well, not about the shitting part. This place was creepy as fuck, and what Daniel just did was pretty fucking impressive.
“Steve, why are you always talking about shit?” Raven asked, then cursed. “Patrollers up ahead.”
King narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of the monstrous things watching them. They were huge—easily three hundred pounds of pure nightmare fuel. Their bodies were covered in jagged, sharp barbs, their hands horn-shaped with razor-like claws that gleamed even in the dim light. But it was their eyes that put King on edge. Shifty. Calculating. Predatory. There were at least twenty of them. Maybe more. Their barbed tails slammed against the ground, sending up small dust clouds as they watched the group pass.
King tightened his grip on his sword, ready for the first one that dared to make a move. They didn’t.
Yet.
“Ugly fuckers, aren’t they?” Kane muttered, smirking at one that stared too damn long.
“What the fuck are they?” King asked, his voice low. One of the creatures jerked toward him, a quick, menacing movement meant to intimidate. King didn’t even flinch. Fuck that thing. If it so much as breathed wrong, he’d cut its head clean off.
“Hamatulas,” Kane answered as they moved past. “Patrollers of the Underground.”
King’s gaze followed the creatures warily.
“Their claws are razor sharp,” Kane added, voice grim. “One swipe will slice you clean in half.”
“Good to fucking know.” King exhaled, keeping his sword at the ready. His senses were screaming at him, his gut twisting with unease. Something felt off. “Does it feel like we’re walking into a trap?”
Creed chuckled, as did Raven.
"Down here, you're always walking into a trap," Creed said, stopping in front of a run-down building.
King barely heard him. His focus was on the half-dressed women lounging around, their dark, hungry eyes crawling over him and the other men like they were a fresh meal.
They played with their own breasts, making exaggerated moaning sounds, their scent a sickly-sweet lure meant to make a man’s blood heat. King felt nothing but disgust.
“Hey, baby,” one of them purred, reaching out toward Sid, who sidestepped her touch with a curl of his lip. “I got a tight pussy and could give you a good fuck.”
Sid snorted. “I’d rather cut my dick off.”
King smirked at Sid’s solid response.
"Those are Succubi," Raven said, amusedly glancing at King. “The whores of the underworld.”
King’s jaw tensed. “I know what they are.”
His eyes flicked to Charger, who was being openly flirted with by one of the demons. Raven wasn't having that shit.
“Bitch, if you wanna keep that ugly ass head of yours, you’ll keep your hands off my man,” she sneered, pointing her sword directly at it.
King huffed out a quiet chuckle, but his amusement didn’t last.
“King, come with me,” Daniel ordered, already heading toward the building with Duncan at his side. “And leave the sword.”
King’s grip tightened around the hilt, reluctant to part with it now that he finally had a weapon in this godforsaken place. Leaving it felt like walking in naked.
Kane held out a hand, and after a beat, King forced himself to let go, shoving the sword into Kane’s grip.
His body coiled tight with tension as he followed Daniel into the building, his stomach twisting with every step. Amara was somewhere in this hellhole. Probably terrified. And he was wasting fucking time.
The second he stepped inside, his senses were assaulted. The air was thick and rancid. The overwhelming stench of rotting flesh, blood, and something even fouler that he couldn’t name and didn’t fucking want to.
The moment they entered, everything stopped. Conversations died, shadows shifted, and every set of hungry, predatory eyes locked onto them. King’s skin prickled, muscles tensing.
Daniel didn’t acknowledge the sudden change in atmosphere. Didn’t even hesitate. He strode forward, heading toward the rotting bar like he owned the place.
King kept his back straight, his movements slow, measured. He might not have had a weapon, but he sure as hell wasn’t defenseless.
Then he got a good look at the bartender. And holy fuck. He was easily the ugliest son of a bitch King had ever seen. Skin sagged off his skull, his eyeballs bulging grotesquely. Where a nose should’ve been, there was only a gaping hole. His teeth—or what was left of them—were jagged and black, barely hanging on to rotted gums.
The sight was nauseating. The thought of Amara here, somewhere in this cesspool, had his rage boiling to the surface. He could only imagine her fear. He was ready to tear through every last one of these monsters to get to her.
“Where’s Sibyl?” Daniel asked. Not harsh. Not pleasant. Just fucking final.
The bartender, a drooling sack of rot, grunted. “She ain’t here.” Then, like a goddamn savage, he spit into a drink and slid it across the bar to some low-life demon. And the fucker actually took it and drank.
King had seen some nasty shit in his time, but this? This was a whole new level of disgust.
He was already on edge, this hellhole gnawing at his patience. The stench of sweat, blood, and rotting flesh thickened the air. But Daniel? Daniel acted like he owned the fucking place. Hell, maybe he did.
King didn’t let his guard drop, though. He stayed slightly turned, body angled, keeping watch on the room while Duncan did the same. No one was getting the drop on them.
Then Daniel moved so fast that King barely had time to register it before Daniel leaped over the bar, snatched the demon by the skull, and slammed his ugly-ass face into the wood. The sickening crack of cartilage breaking filled the air. No one moved.
Daniel leaned down, his voice like a razor’s edge. “I told you, demon, not to lie to me.” His eyes darkened, power surging just beneath his skin. “I know she’s here. And I’m going to ask you one more fucking time… where is Sibyl?”
The room shifted. Tension thickened. King tracked the movement as a few demons slipped out the door. Smart. If shit went south, they didn’t want to be collateral damage. King, however, wanted his fucking sword.
His eyes flicked around, searching for anything he could use as a weapon if it came to that.
The demon trembled, then caved. “G-get Sibyl!” he howled, his ruined face a mess of blood and panic. “She’s paying off a debt!”
Daniel’s as his jaw ticked. That obviously hit a nerve. “Her debt is paid in full. From this moment forward.” His voice was ice, his fury slow-building like a brewing storm. “Nod, if you understand me.”
The demon didn’t move fast enough. So Daniel helped.
Crack.
He slammed the bastard’s head into the bar. Again.
Crack.
And again.
Crack.
And again, until the fucker was nodding on his own.
“Good.” Daniel let him go, flipping back over the bar like he hadn’t just turned the demon’s skull into pulp. His eyes flicked across the room, making sure his message was clear before settling back on the bartender.
“If I come back here and find Sibyl anywhere near this shithole, I will kill you and burn this fucking place to the ground. Is that understood?”
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd. A few demons visibly shrank, except for one.
A shadow shifted in the back as someone stood. “I don’t think you understand, Demon Slayer.” The voice was deep. Cold.
King locked eyes on the newcomer—and what the fuck? The bastard was built like a war machine. Muscles thick. Posture cocky. But it was his head that had King tensing. A jackal’s head. Black eyes. Long snout. Sharp-ass teeth. Not human. Not demon. Something worse.
“What the fuck is that?” King muttered, glancing at Duncan, whose entire body had gone rigid.
“Anubis,” Duncan murmured, not looking away. “The eyes and ears of the Realm.”
Daniel took his time, looking up to meet the jackal-headed bastard’s gaze. Then, he smiled. “Ah. Do you need me to explain it slowly?”
The Anubis laughed. But his eyes didn’t. “Your time is coming to an end, Slayer.” The words dripped with prophecy and malice. “Or haven’t you heard?”
“Oh, I’ve heard,” Daniel said, voice lazy, like he didn’t have a single care in the world. He leaned against the bar, completely at ease.
King, however, could feel the tension vibrating beneath the surface. Daniel was coiled steel and ready to strike.
“And I don’t care. Unless it’s you that’s been infused with Golden Blood.” He tilted his head. “But it’s not. Is it? The Anubis too low on the priority list?”
“Fuck you!” the jackal-headed bastard spat, glaring with murderous rage.
Daniel didn’t flinch. “I’ll pass,” he said casually as he straightened. Then, his voice sharpened like a blade. “But I’m busy. So, unless you’re the one to take me out, get the fuck out of here.”
The Anubis bristled. Started to say something, but didn’t get the chance.
Daniel flicked his wrist fast as hell. Before King could even track the movement, the jackal fucker was suddenly launched through the door, the wood splintering as it slammed shut behind him.
Just then, a young woman appeared at the top of the stairs. She was thin, dirty, and bruised.
King watched her closely as she hesitated, then slowly descended. Head bowed. Shoulders slumped. When she reached Daniel, she stopped. Daniel didn’t say a word as he tilted her chin up, inspecting the bruises marring her face.
His voice, when he finally spoke, was low and dangerous. The kind of voice that promised death. “Who did this to you?”
The girl, Sibyl, flinched. Her gaze darted away. “I fell.”
“Don’t lie to me, Sibyl,” Daniel warned, his eyes narrowing.
She swallowed hard and finally met Daniel’s stare, pleading with her eyes. “I fell, Daniel.”
King clenched his fists, his patience wearing paper-thin as he looked at this frail woman. This was no place for a woman. Every second wasted was another second Amara could be suffering. But he forced himself to shut his mouth and let Daniel do his thing.
Daniel exhaled slowly, then gave her a small nod. “Come on.”
They left the building without another word. Not one demon dared to lift their eyes to Daniel. King may be a badass up in his world, but down here, Daniel was the apex predator.
King walked outside and glanced at the jackal-head dude lying on the ground where Charger was toeing him with his boot.
“Damn, Daniel.” Kane grinned, shaking his head. “A little warning before you start shooting assholes out of the buildings. You almost took Creed out.”
“This is the fucking weirdest place I’ve ever seen,” King mumbled, shaking his head.
“You haven’t seen anything yet, my friend.” Kane grinned with a chuckle.
They walked a short distance away and stopped in a field beyond the buildings. Sibyl finally spoke. “You’re looking for the girl.”
“We are,” Daniel confirmed, then lifted her face again. “Let me get you the hell out of here, Sibyl. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”
Her expression twisted with a mixture of pain, fear, and resignation. “I can’t,” she murmured. Then her gaze flicked to King. “This girl… she’s the one with Golden Blood?”
“Yes,” Daniel answered before King could open his mouth.
Where the fuck is she? King wanted to demand. But he bit his tongue.
Sibyl hesitated. Then, voice barely above a whisper, she said: “The sixth portal.”
King’s pulse thundered. But then she dropped another bomb.
“A Warlock named Valkas has her,” Sibyl continued, her voice tight. “The hag told me he put a spell on her to turn her into a half-breed so her blood would be more powerful.”
King’s stomach plummeted. The world blurred for a second, rage pounding through his veins like a fucking war drum. His gaze met Kane’s at the mention of the name Valkas.
“It was a success,” Sibyl added quietly.
“Did the hag help him?” Daniel’s voice was sharp now, demanding the truth.
“No. Valkas is powerful. And he has the backing of the Legions.” Her voice trembled. “A demon named Locke is one of many who are searching for people like the woman Valkas has. They want you dead, Daniel. They won’t stop until they succeed.”
Daniel exhaled a dark chuckle. “Story of my life.”
Then he put his arm around Sibyl. “Thank you,” he murmured. “Your debt is paid in full. You never have to go back to that place.”
Sibyl nodded. But she didn’t leave. “How many witches do you have?” she asked suddenly.
“One witch. One warlock,” Daniel replied, already shaking his head. “You’re not going.”
“It’s not enough,” she muttered, then shrugged. “Too late, I’m already there. Hurry up.” She snapped her fingers and was gone.
“Fuck!” Daniel cursed. Then he turned back to the group, eyes blazing. “Let’s go.”
Daniel took off, and King followed, grabbing his sword from Kane without breaking stride. No one spoke. The only sound was their footfalls pounding against the barren ground as they ran.
The air was thick, almost suffocating, charged with a dark energy that pressed down on him like a weight. But none of that mattered. Amara was here. And he was going to get her back.
After what felt like forever, Daniel skidded to a stop on a bare hill. King pulled up beside him, breathing hard, his eyes scanning the field below. His stomach dropped.
The landscape was filled with twisted, monstrous creatures, their grotesque bodies shifting restlessly, waiting. A nightmare made real. And somewhere among them—Amara.
Sibyl suddenly appeared beside him. King jolted back, gripping his sword tighter. She gave him a small, apologetic smile before stepping around him to Daniel.
“The girl is there.” Sibyl pointed.
King’s gaze snapped to where she directed, and pure, unrelenting fury ignited in his chest. Amara was floating. Suspended above the ground, her body encased in a shimmering light, her white hair swirling around her like spun silver. She looked so fragile, surrounded by monsters.
His feet moved before his mind could catch up. Daniel’s arm shot out, slamming against his chest, stopping him cold.
King snarled. “Move.”
“She’s protected by magic,” Bonnie said, her voice edged with urgency. “We have to break the spell before you touch her.”
King barely heard her. His entire world had narrowed to Amara and to the sick fuck who had her.
Bonnie’s sharp elbow dug into his ribs. “Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes,” he bit out.
Daniel’s voice was low and deadly as he addressed the group. “I can take out the ones that haven’t been given Amara’s blood, but the others will be stronger. Faster. Harder to kill.” His gaze flicked to the witches and warlocks. “Sibyl, Bonnie, and Ryker will weaken them with magic. That’s when you strike.”
Steve let out a low curse. “And how the fuck do we know if they’re weakened?” His eyes narrowed. “And what in the fuck are those things with tusks?”
“Orthon,” Charger said grimly. “Metal-plated. Aim underneath the plates.”
“Great.” Steve snorted, then shot Sloan a glare. “Never trade me to the fucking Dark Guardians.”
Sloan shrugged. “Don’t piss me off.”
“Well fuck,” Steve cursed kicking at the dirt. “That’s a big ask.”
The tension crackled like static before Sloan swept a hard look over them. “Let’s do this. And don’t fucking die.”
Sid grunted. “Solid pep talk, boss.”
“Fuck, this is gonna suck,” Steve muttered, rolling his shoulders.
“Just another day at the office,” Raven said, flashing a wicked grin. “Stop being a pussy, Warrior.”
“Keep this Valkas bastard alive,” Sloan called out the order, glaring at King.
King’s gaze snapped back to Amara. “He’s mine.” His voice was a growl of pure, lethal promise.
Daniel moved suddenly, his arm sweeping in a wide arc, his head tilting back as a raw, guttural roar tore from his throat. The earth trembled as more than half the creatures collapsed instantly, but the others surged forward.
“Ah, fuck!” Viktor’s voice rang out as the battle erupted. “Here we go!”
King barely registered it before a massive Orthon barreled toward Daniel, who was just getting his bearings. Duncan lunged, trying to reach him, but King was closer. He launched forward, slamming into Daniel and knocking him clear as the beast plowed into him instead.
The impact stole his breath. King hit the ground hard, the monster's weight crushing down on him. Its foul breath filled his lungs as it reared back, preparing to strike, and then it was gone.
King rolled, sucking in a sharp breath just as Sibyl’s voice cut through the chaos. “NOW!”
He didn’t hesitate. King surged forward, his blade slicing up beneath the metal plate, piercing deep, and the Orthon collapsed, dead.
King was already moving, carving a bloody path through the battlefield, cutting down anything in his way, his mind focused on one thing. Amara. She was still floating, her body eerily motionless, her arms stretched out. The sick fucker had dressed her in a thin, white, see-through gown. Rage seared through him like fire. He would die at the King’s hands.
King’s sharp gaze locked onto a figure standing to the side, watching the fight. When their eyes met, the bastard turned and sprinted toward Amara.
“VALKAS!” King roared. The warlock’s name ripped from his throat like a battle cry.
A split second later, Ryker’s voice rang out. “NOW!”
King struck, his blade slicing through another enemy, barely feeling the impact. His path was now clear. Around him, the battlefield had thinned. Most of the creatures were dead. King’s legs burned, but he pushed harder, focusing only on Amara.
Valkas reached for her just as King lunged. “Touch her and die.” King’s voice was a savage growl, his sword steady as he pointed it at the warlock.
Valkas laughed. The bastard actually laughed until he flicked his arm toward King, expecting some dark magic to strike him down.
Nothing happened and Valkas’s face paled visibly shaken.
“Release her,” Sibyl demanded from behind King, her voice calm, but edged with steel.
Valkas shook his head wildly. “No! What are you doing?”
Sibyl stepped forward, placing herself between them, her expression unreadable.
“Did you seriously think I would allow you to kill the Demon Slayer?” she said quietly. “Who do you think has been informing Daniel? It’s me, Valkas.”
The warlock’s eyes widened in shock before narrowing in rage. “You are as good as dead.” His voice dripped with venom. “As soon as the Legions find out about this, you will rot and suffer the worst torture you’ve ever known.”
King barely heard him. He was watching Amara. She was still floating, her body suspended in that eerie, shimmering light. Every second that passed made his chest tighten, his need to get to her almost unbearable.
A movement behind him made him shift slightly. Everyone was standing there now.
Then Daniel stepped forward, his face a mask of fury as he grabbed Valkas by the throat. “You do not threaten her. Ever.” His eyes glowed as they swirled, the sheer power radiating from him enough to make the air crackle. “Now release Amara.”
Valkas let out a manic laugh. “Even if I release her, it’s too late. They all know.” His grin widened, pure madness in his eyes. “They all know how to take down the Demon Slayer.”
Daniel sneered. “And I’ll be waiting.”
Then he looked at King. “He’s yours.”
King tightened his grip on his sword, but not yet. “Not until he releases Amara,” he hissed, his muscles coiled with the need to end this bastard.
“No need,” Sibyl said softly. “I can release her.”
King’s sharp gaze snapped to her as she stepped closer, her eyes locked on Amara. He hesitated wanting to make sure before he killed the bastard. He looked toward Daniel.
Daniel gave a short nod. “She can do it, King.”
That was all he needed. Valkas screamed in fury as Daniel shoved him toward King. King didn’t waste a second. Amara was the priority, not his fierce need for revenge.
His sword arced through the air in a deadly, perfect stroke as Valkas stumbled toward him unable to stop. The blade sliced clean, taking Valkas’s head off. It hit the ground with a satisfying thud. King barely glanced at it as he kicked it aside, dropping his sword without another thought.
“Fuck!” Steve looked at the head with a huge frown. “That would have made a fucking amazing TikTok.”
“Steve, if I hear of you making one more fucking TikTok, I’m going to chop you into little pieces and feed your ass to anything down here that will eat you.”
“Damn, why all the TikTok hate,” Steve mumbled, but King ignored it as he ran to Amara.
“Release her.” His voice was rough, almost desperate, as he looked up at his Mate.
She was so still, suspended in the glow of magic, her white hair tumbling around her like a halo.
“Be ready to catch her,” Sibyl warned him as she lifted her hands and began to chant.
The wait was agony. King clenched his fists, his body tense, every muscle coiled to catch her the second she fell. Her hair fell over her breasts and down her back, not swirling any longer. Her gown stilled as well. Suddenly she dropped, but King was ready as he caught her effortlessly. She was warm and breathing. Relief crashed through him.
“Amara.” His voice broke slightly as he whispered her name.
She didn’t stir.
Sibyl reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Amara’s face. “It might take her a few minutes to come out of it.” Her gaze softened. “She’s very pretty.”
King barely looked away from Amara, but when he did, his eyes met Sibyl’s.
“Thank you.” His voice was low, raw with sincerity.
He’d heard whispers of her, of how she’d helped Susan escape when Ryker had been searching for her in the Realm. But something didn’t add up with Sibyl.
“Why stay?” His voice was rough with disbelief. “Why not leave this place?”
Sibyl smiled—a sad, knowing smile. “I have been waiting a long time for the Demon Slayer… Daniel.”
King studied her, hearing the quiet truth in her words.
“I will do anything I can to make sure he is successful. My discomfort is nothing compared to what he can do for the world.” She turned back to Amara, her eyes full of something ancient and knowing. “She is very special, King. Take care of her.”
Then, without another word, she walked away. King followed her with his gaze before glancing at Daniel, who had been watching Sibyl intently.
Their eyes met for a brief second—then Daniel looked away.
A soft, raspy whisper made King freeze. “King?”
He looked down, and his heart nearly stopped.
Tears streamed down her face as she stared up at him. “You really are alive.”
King swallowed hard. “Thanks to you, I am.”
Then he crushed his lips to hers, pouring everything he couldn’t say into that kiss—his relief, his love, his desperate need to have her safe. He pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair, inhaling her scent, warmth, and presence.
Amara pulled back slightly, her eyes scanning him with worry. “Are you okay? You’re really bloody.”
She reached up, tearing a strip from the hem of her gown, gently wiping a smear of blood from his cheek.
King swallowed hard, his throat was tight. For the first time in a long, long time, he felt the burn of tears. “Yeah.” His voice was thick. “I’m good now.”
Amara smiled faintly, her fingers still resting on his face. “I knew you’d come for me.”
His chest clenched at her words.
Then, her voice dropped to a whisper. “Please take me home. I really don’t like it here.”
She started to turn her head, but before she could see the carnage, the blood, the bodies of the creatures her blood was being infused into King shifted, blocking her view.
Daniel stepped forward, his face softer than before. “Bonnie is going to transport you back now.” He looked at Amara. “It’s not good for humans to stay in the Realm too long.”
Amara let out a weak, wobbly laugh, tears still glistening in her eyes. “I didn’t kill you.”
Daniel smiled. “No, you didn’t.”
Then his gaze flicked to King. “I had some badasses who had my back.”
King gave him a nod before pulling Amara closer, protecting her. Bonnie stepped up, silent. She touched King’s arm. As much as he hated transporting, he was ready to take Amara home where she belonged, and that was all that mattered.