CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Omaera
It was nearly one o’clock, and I was a jittery mess, pacing the cave.
We received updates from Leno and Groy constantly, and each time it was the same. No sign of vampires, mages, or demons—oh my!
“Is Howar the type to not come as an act of defiance? Like a passive aggressive temper tantrum sort of thing?” I asked, directing my question to Drak. “Or would he just bomb the cave with us in here and call it a day?”
Drak shook his head thoughtfully. “He’s more likely to not come as an act of defiance than bomb the place. But I honestly don’t think he’ll do either. He wants to meet you. His curiosity will trump his irritation over you suddenly changing the meeting location.”
“He will also reluctantly respect your power move of shifting the meeting place to somewhere of your choosing, then of his,” Ryden added.
Maxar’s phone buzzed, and we all froze.
My mage nodded. “Two choppers just touched down.”
I pulled in a deep breath through my nose.
Showtime .
It took no time at all for Howar and Anysa to arrive and the big door to the cave to lift, revealing the last two leaders of this magical realm I only learned of less than a month ago.
Howar looked just as I figured he would. A lot like Drak. Dark hair, blue eyes, narrow face, paler than average skin, and sharp, chiseled features—particularly his jaw and cheekbones. He had a very straight nose, that I would say was just a touch too long. He was still very handsome though.
The problem was, he knew it. King Howar carried himself with a level of arrogance that I found immediately off-putting—or maybe that was all the other shitty things I knew about him already that tainted my view of the Vampire King.
I wasn’t sure what I was expecting when it came to Queen Anysa, however. All the vampires I’d come across so far had dark hair and dark eyes—whether blue or otherwise. But mages seemed a lot more varied in their colorings. Maxar and his mother had red hair, his father had brown hair, Melissima was fair-skinned with white-blonde hair, Monjol Fiddleman was Black, and my own Aunt Delia was Latina with brown skin and blue eyes.
Queen Anysa Sadlyn was dark-skinned with a gorgeous head of tight curly hair—similar to my own—but styled in an impressive afro. Her gown consisted of layered organza of the most beautiful shades of gold. She had no jewelry on, but she didn’t need it. Her eyes were an intense blue, and they glowed like sapphires in her perfectly round, youthful face. She was one of the most stunning women I’d ever seen in my life, and for a moment, I was struck silent as she seemed to practically float toward us, a serene smile on her face.
Three vampires followed behind Howar. The only one I recognized was Raver. Three mages followed behind Anysa.
Howar bowed when he stopped a few feet in front of me, dressed in royal garb consisting of a dark-blue suit, and light-blue shirt, a bunch of medals on his left shoulder, and an extremely expensive watch. He was without a tie though, and for some reason, I found that comical.
Compared to Anysa and Howar, I felt extremely under dressed in my black skinny jeans and purple off-the-shoulder, baggy, long-sleeve shirt, but I took comfort in King Ryden’s jeans and T-shirt as the old bear sauntered up to stand beside me .
Queen Anysa curtsied, and I curtsied back to both of them, though mine was terrible compared to her practiced perfection.
They did the same thing with King Ryden, but my father-in-law seemed rather disinterested in the pomp and circumstance, and his bow was more of a head nod.
“It is an honor to finally meet you, Your Majesty,” Queen Anysa said, her posh British accent catching me off guard. Again, I wasn’t sure what I was expecting with her, but it wasn’t a British accent. “We have so much to discuss.”
“I agree,” I replied, my palms sweating like a pig in the sun. “And I do appreciate your willingness to wait until I acclimated myself a bit to this new world.”
“I trust you are feeling better?” the Mage Queen asked. “King Howar said you were poorly.”
I smiled. “Yes. I am feeling better, thank you. Must have just been something I ate. I also appreciate you both making the journey here. I know The Palace of Venixe was the initial plan, but … well, I appreciate you accommodating my whimsy.”
She inclined her head to the side in response, offering me a small smile, but didn’t say anything.
Howar’s eyes lit up when he spied Drak. “Cousin, so wonderful to see you. I can’t remember the last time we went this long apart from each other. It feels … unnatural.”
Drak forced a smile and tipped his head. “I couldn’t agree more. It is good to see you, My King. You look well.”
The corners of the Vampire King’s mouth lifted, but caution entered his eyes before he flitted his focus back to me. “Right. Shall we get the ball rolling then?”
“If you don’t mind,” I replied, “I would like to begin this meeting with a toast. We were just in Hell, as I’m sure you both know, where I met with a wonderful demon who helped me learn to control my powers. We were also introduced to many of the … delicacies of Hell—”
Zandren scoffed, and I shot him a quick glare.
“Hell certainly lacked for flavor in most things. However, we were introduced to blankberry leaf tea with skivern syrup, and I must say, it is truly delicious.” As if the cave was my home, I stepped to the side so the mages and vampires could enter and move toward the seating area. Everyone skirted around the giant hole to nowhere, paying it no mind. Like it was a coffee table in the center of the room, not a gaping void to the unknown. “Please, have a seat. Let us drink to this new era.”
Everyone found a seat, and although it was fleeting, it was also impossible to miss Howar’s quick glance at me when I took the raised throne where my father once sat.
Luckily, our B it was Phaceanesh too. Now that they were no longer in daylight, the creepy nightwalkers ditched their umbrellas and had Ryden and Zandren significantly outnumbered. The older bear dropped to all fours when he had a moment of reprieve and quickly shifted, which gave him a significant advantage. He was tearing Phaceanesh in half with one swipe of his paws.
Lerris was still fully conscious and incredibly pissed off he’d been bested by a half-human mutt. He didn’t make Maxar’s job easy, and fought with everything he had as my mage gruffly lugged him across the cave floor toward the blood cage. I covered him from the other demons and Phaceanesh, sending out blasts of fire and entering the Phaceaneshs’ minds, tearing their right lobes away from their left lobes until they screamed in agony and dropped to the ground clutching their heads and thick black blood poured from their nose, ears, and eyes.
“Omaera, behind you!” Maxar shouted, just in time for me to turn around and see a Phaceanesh barreling toward me, his red eyes gleaming, fangs out. “The sword!”
Oh, right!
I forgot all about Moloch’s Sacrifice on my back in its scabbard, and with less than perfected finesse, I managed to unsheathe it, wave it around in the air just as the Phaceanesh leaped up. Maybe it was luck, the Fates, or I had some sword-wielding skills after all, but Moloch’s Sacrifice and the Phaceanesh’s neck connected at just the right time, and another head rolled across the floor.
“Noooooo!” Lerris screamed as Maxar continued to haul him across the cave floor. Was he yelling over the nightwalker dying, or over the fact that I was using the sword he coveted?
Something told me it was the latter, because Lerris didn’t have a soul for it to be the former.
Maxar had him on the altar of the cage now, but since the cage floated midair, we needed to figure out how to heave my uncle up into it.
“What the hell is that?” Lerris exclaimed, still writhing and fighting against his ankle bindings. I walked up to him and conjured my own flame-rope—this one green, so it would hurt the whole time it was on him—and I bound his wrists too.
“Haven’t you ever heard of a blood cage, uncle dear?” I asked before bending down to take him by the ankles while Maxar grabbed him by the shoulders, and together, we lifted him up and tossed him through the door of the blood cage. Once he was in, the flame-ropes disappeared from his limbs, and we slammed the door.
“A blood cage?” Lerris shrieked. “You foul, disgusting little half-blood bastard.”
“Should we just behead him?” Maxar asked.
“We need to question him about the whereabouts of Gemma first.”
Maxar nodded and took off back into the thick of the battle.
Lerris was still screaming, but he was in the cage for now and not a problem. Ignoring his bellows, I turned my attention back to the battle that was still in full swing between Zandren, Ryden, Drak, and the remaining Phaceanesh and demons. Once Maxar joined the fight, it seemed nobody was outnumbered anymore.
A Phaceanesh knocked down Drak, causing my mate to smack his head on the ground hard enough I heard it from across the cave. This gave the Phaceanesh an opening, but I was faster and reached into my pocket for the lullabei that Kenvin gave me and whipped it through the air, just like he taught me. Halfway, the blades opened up, whirling around in the air. It made contact with the Phaceanesh’s neck, and a second later his head, with the wide red eyes, toppled to the ground while the lullabei stuck into the rock wall behind the torso.
Drak stood up, dusting himself off, then pulled the weapon out of the wall and handed it to me when I ran up to him. “Thanks.” Before I could make sure he was okay, he tore over to help Zandren, who had a Phaceanesh on his back, fangs out, trying to get at the bear’s neck. I couldn’t risk throwing the lullabei again since my target this time wasn’t easy to get out without running the risk of hitting Zandren. Instead, I jumped into the Phaceanesh’s mind, ramming an invisible jousting rod through the two lobes from the side near his temple. The creature screamed out in pain and crumpled to the ground, dead.
That left the demon battling with Maxar and the Phaceanesh on Ryden’s back. The old bear was still a formidable opponent, but I could see he was getting tired. He had quite a few big scratches and cuts on him, including a big one across his snout, which leaked blood all over the cave floor.
“Push them off you and back away,” I said, taking in a deep breath and bringing my hands out in front of me.
Ryden did as I told him to, but the nightwalker leaped back onto his back, fangs out, murder in his glowing red eyes.
“Ryden,” I hollered again, “drop! Now!”
The Shifter King caught my eye, nodded, and tossed his arms and legs out from under him so his belly collided with the ground like a bearskin rug in front of a roaring fire, just as I lobbed my energy ball at the Phaceanesh on his back. It worked perfectly and the fireball, along with a big sonic boom, took out the nightwalker, but didn’t even singe my father-in-law’s fur.
Elation flowed through me when I realized the fireball and sonic boom didn’t affect anybody else. Nobody else had been tossed to the floor, or clutched their ears in pain. The Phaceanesh landed on the ground with a thud, his left arm no longer attached to his body. Black blood poured from his stump, and Ryden took this as the perfect opportunity to finish him off, getting up and swiping his enormous paw across the Phaceanesh’s face, ripping it off his skull. Then he bit down on the nightwalker’s neck and removed the head.
He was smiling when he glanced back at me, blood smeared all across his snout, fur, and mouth. I cringed a little, but did my best to smile back and offer him a thumbs up.
A crack of breaking bones behind me pulled my attention just in time for me to see Maxar break the neck of the demon he was battling. Then he snapped his fingers, made a fire sword, and beheaded the man at his feet.
We all stood there for a moment, catching our breath as we took an inventory of the bodies littering the ground. I glanced over at Lerris in the blood cage. He already appeared weaker. He was slumped over in the corner, his shoulders rounded, breathing shallow.
“Let’s chuck these bodies into the hole,” Maxar said. “Can’t leave the place a mess.” He already had a headless Phaceanesh body in his arms which he hurled into the pit in the center of the cave like it was a coin in a wishing well.
With a bear-like shrug, Zandren grunted, used his teeth to grab a demon body—also missing a head—and lugged it toward the pit.
I stalked over to Lerris. “Where is Gemma?”
He didn’t even lift his head. “Dead, hopefully.”
He was too weak to create a shield strong enough to keep me out, and I dove into his brain, making him scream out in pain. “Where. Is. Gemma?”
He could barely lift his head, but he tried, meeting my gaze. “Dead. Hopefully.”
I pierced his brain again, this time making it feel like fire ants were gnawing away at his gray matter from the inside. While he cried out in pain, I tiptoed through his mind to see what I could find, much like I had with Drak. I paused when a memory of Lerris, holding Moloch’s Sacrifice in his hand approaching a sleeping figure in a bed, flashed before me. I couldn’t look away.
He lifted the sword high in the air, over the head of the man sleeping on his back.
Then, without even a moment of hesitation, Lerris brought the blade down across the man’s neck, decapitating him. He dropped the sword with a sharp clatter to the ground and rushed to the center of the room, holding his arms out, face toward the sky. When nothing happened, a furious, “Noooooooooo!” burst from his lips.
A faint, raspy chuckle pulled me from his mind, and I found my uncle laughing in the corner. “Didn’t expect to find that there, did you?”
I shoved a meat clever into his frontal lobe and he cried out again. Then I dove back into his mind, searching for Gemma. I bypassed the memory of him walking up to Aunt Delia’s. I knew what would happen there and I didn’t want to see it. I kept going, ignoring all the horrible things Lerris was guilty of, until I found what I was looking for.
Him, staring down at a phone, texting something.
I’ve sent the coordinates from H. They should be there. Take care of them. No survivors.
Yes, sir.
Another text appeared to come several hours later.
Sir. They are not here. They have gone.
Lerris’s scream of frustration over not finding Gemma or Melissima rivaled that of his scream of pain. Relief filled me enough that I pulled out of his mind, but added a million more fire ants.
Noise from the spot where we had the mages and vampires tied up pulled my attention away from Lerris. Drak, Maxar, and I wandered over to find the mages and vampires stirring.
I glanced at Drak. “You ready?”
The look in his eyes as he stared at his cousin caught me off guard. It was more emotion than I’d ever seen from Drak before. The pain in his eyes, the betrayal. The anger. It was all right there. All bubbling hot and frothy on the surface.
I laced my fingers through his. “You’ve got this.”
He didn’t look at me, but he squeezed my hand in return. “No, I don’t. But I have to do it anyway.”