Chapter Eight #3
Good thing I’d fought ‘taurs before, though it was never exactly fun.
I conjured another shield -- this time medieval-size so I could fight around it -- and flicked it into the path of his axe. The huge weapon hit the shield so hard, it made my skull ring like a wine glass.
Definitely not fun.
* * *
Iona
I woke up to the sound of combat -- Dearg’s ripe curses and Baareo shouting right back. Are they shooting a fight sc --
Wait, Baareo’s dead. It’s Respen. What the hell happened? I was working that murder and now I’m… Where am I?
It felt like someone had beaten me with a bag full of bricks.
When I tried to roll onto my back, tearing agony exploded in my belly.
I felt chilled, and both my shirt and bullet resistant vest were wet.
I spread one hand over the source of the pain and probed with my magic.
Demon winds! Huge bleeding gashes encircled my body.
That’s not good. I drew on my magic again and started healing everything I could.
My eyes focused on the ceiling far overhead, and I mentally swore.
The dome was painted in a pastiche of Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel, depicting images of Siobhan -- killing dragons, shouting at the head of an army, stark naked as her entire male harem serviced her.
The walls were white marble veined in bloodred, while towering jade columns supported the ceiling, each wrapped in golden rose vines.
That dragon-shaped throne of hers took up one entire side of the room, sculpted to appear crouching and servile.
Mom’s narcissism at work. She’d never had restraint in anything she did, including decorating.
I glanced around and there Siobhan was, dressed in her usual golden armor, her green eyes blazing with madness. She looked, if anything, even further gone than the last time I’d seen her.
I scrambled to my feet, distantly aware of a defense shield popping like a bubble, releasing me. Felt like Dearg’s work. I drew my baton and flicked my wrist, turning it into Maeve’s sword. Another wave of magic sheathed me in armor.
“Welcome, daughter.” Siobhan gave me a manic grin. “I’ve been waiting to watch you die for a very long time. Now your big brother will take care of that for me.”
Demon Winds! My heart began to lunge in my chest, anxiety spiraling at the mere sight of her, much less the threat she’d made. I thought I was over this! Guess childhood trauma isn’t as easy to shed as all that. Good thing the geas makes sure she can’t attack me.
Of course, I can’t attack her either, Cachamwri curse her.
Keeping my face blank, I flipped her the bird and glanced quickly around for Dearg.
There he was in Dire Wolf form, faced off with Respen-’taur, Dragon’s Breath crackling and spitting green sparks as it crashed against the centaur’s sword. Thank Maeve, he’s alive!
My panic ratcheted down. We were in deep shit, but I could deal knowing Dearg was still breathing, still fighting and apparently unhurt. I could withstand anything as long as he was with me.
For a moment, I watched, my heart in my throat, as the man I loved battled my serial killer of a brother.
Dearg spun, ducked, and leaped as Respen tried to overwhelm him with his greater size and mass, not to mention those huge hooves.
Blades crashed against each other in whirling flares of magic.
It was a damned impressive display. Respen had been a killer for over a thousand years, yet Dearg matched him stroke for stroke.
The centaur pounded on my lover’s guard with a battleaxe so massive, a human couldn’t have fought with it. Any other sword but Dragon’s Breath would have shattered, and any other man but Dearg would have been killed. I’d known he was good, but I’d had no idea how good.
“Respen!” my bitch of a mother yelled. “Kill the little princeling, take his form, and return to his palace. Kill Ll?r and his wolf bitch when they welcome their precious boy home. Then the two of us will rule the Two Kingdoms as we choose.”
Dearg shot her a vicious look, his Galatyn eyes blazing with fury at the threat.
Knowing him, the idea that his parents would believe he’d betrayed them only added to his rage.
His lips peeled back, displaying a mouthful of huge Dire Wolf teeth.
“Galatyn!” The battle cry was still echoing as he went after Respen like the spinning blades of a Cuisinart.
Gods and demons! I stared, watching Dearg’s beautiful savagery, the hypnotic agility and strength, his thundering attacks as Dragon’s Breath blazed green, sparks flying every time the weapons made contact. I hadn’t been kidding when I said he reminded me of a tiger.
I just hoped Dearg wasn’t so mad his temper overcame his self-control and got him killed. Since I couldn’t do a damn thing about Mom, I drew my sword and headed toward the men to complicate Respen’s life.
But as I watched, I quickly realized they were moving too damned fast for me to launch my own attack. By the time I’d spot an opening, they’d be onto the next exchange of thundering blows.
Cachamwri must be pouring power into the prince through his Mark, judging by the way Dearg seemed to have unlocked God Mode.
What’s more, they were pounding so fast, they weren’t even using magical shields.
“If it wasn’t for that damn geas, I’d gut you like a hog,” my darling Mommy shouted, stalking back and forth on her dais glaring at me.
I didn’t even bother to look around. “Save your breath, bitch. You don’t scare me anymore. I’m no longer a helpless child, and you’d do well to keep your distance.”
“Brave words!” She laughed, the sound mocking and vicious. “I’m really looking forward to watching my dear son gut you like a suckling pig. Maybe I’ll let him indulge his tastes a little first.”
I shot her a contemptuous glance over my shoulder. “Don’t you ever tire of disgusting sexual threats?”
She pretended to consider it. “No, I don’t think I do.”
“Funny. I’ll remind you of that before Dearg hacks your head off.”
“Now who’s making empty threats?” Siobhan smirked at me. “He’ll be dead and Respen will have his power.”
I turned away with a curl of my lip in time to see Respen’s broad back as he reared to hammer his axe down at Dearg’s head.
I leaped, landing on the ‘taur’s back as I swung my sword in a vicious chop designed to cleave the killer’s torso in half.
But before the blow could land, Respen’s muscles bunched as he bucked, rear hooves snapping high in the air.
I went flying like a flipped quarter and hit the ground in a rolling tumble across the marble floor.
I’d have sliced myself open had Maeve not enchanted my blade to dull itself at contact with my skin.
Respen whirled and charged me as I scrambled to my feet.
“Kill that little cunt!” Siobhan screeched. “I want her dead!”
“Spoken like the Mother of the Year you are!” I had no time for other witticisms, not with that centaur bearing down on me.
I barely got a magical shield up in time to meet his axe as it bulleted toward my head.
The mystical impact jarred my skull as if I’d rammed headfirst into a brick wall, sending me staggering back.
Respen smirked. “I’m going to enjoy gutting you for Mother.”
“Why?” I demanded. “She was no more a mother to you than me! She’s always been a narcissistic sociopath.”
Respen grinned, bright and chilling. “Indeed,” he said. “She made me the man I am today.”
He reversed the direction of his swing and sent the axe whistling toward me in a stroke that would have cut me in two. I shied back, and he missed by a whisker.
Spotting Dearg gliding up behind the ‘taur, I bounced on my toes and sneered, trying to keep Big Brother focused on me. “You mean she made you a nutjob?”
Respen ignored the insult, too busy venting. “No matter what I did, I could never satisfy that bitch.” He swung blow after blow at me so fast I couldn’t launch a counterattack, forcing me to retreat. “I could never satisfy her. Every time I failed, she’d feed me to her freaks.”
Despite my fury, I felt a flicker of empathy. “Me too,” I told him. “Why don’t we turn the tables and kill her?”
“Then you stab me in the back? No.”
Not a surprising attitude, if his upbringing had been as ugly as mine.