Chapter 5
Rixon
Rixon gripped Ferrarh’s reins. A small pack of demons kicked up dust in the distance, still too far out to decipher what they were.
If Mina were here, she’d be able to identify them by feel alone.
She should be here, damn it. It felt wrong, doing this without her.
They were a team. They confronted demons as a team.
The moment she returned, he wanted to tie her to his bed and punish her until she was sobbing and apologizing.
Then he wanted to keep her tied there for the rest of eternity.
His thoughts darkened at the image, the thought of her naked and shackled, just for him, her eyes blackened with lust. He wanted her begging—
His cock twitched and he clamped down on his runaway thoughts.
Reginald Weiss rode beside him, along with Mya and her wielder, Flynn.
A contingent of guards and council members kept pace behind them.
He’d armed himself with as many blades as could be carried, just in case, because he still doubted.
The last thing he wanted was a disaster.
How would that make him look as a king, if things went wrong?
But if what Weiss claimed was true, he wouldn’t need his weapons.
The ambassador didn’t make it easy, given how tight-lipped he was—insistent on a demonstration.
“So, you’re telling me they’ll simply flee when they sense its presence?
” Rixon asked, looking at the finely wrought object in Weiss’s hand.
It was ovular in shape, made of Nebrine, and had apparently been spelled by a Carthian witch to repel demons.
Nebrine alone was harmful to demons, which was why it was in all their weapons, but it certainly didn’t send them running in the opposite direction.
Not even settlement walls did that. Nor wards, for that matter.
This, apparently, would.
Hence, the delegation that followed in their wake.
Lord Haspel was frothing for a demonstration. When word of a demon pack sighting reached them, his father’s advisor had been all but ready to tromp out on his own, dragging Weiss if he had to.
“It will work as intended,” said Weiss. “We have tested them extensively.”
At this, he arched a brow.
“I wasn’t aware that Carth had witches,” Mya said. “Or demons enough for testing.”
Yes, thank you, Mya. His thoughts exactly. They’d wondered, after finding the rift in Rockfall, but there had never been any sort of confirmation.
“Without witches and demons, how else could we have accomplished this.” Weiss lifted the object, tossing it up and catching it in his palm. “You’ll need much larger specimens, obviously, for cities such as Corinna. Of which we can provide…for a price.”
Rixon huffed under his breath.
“But, naturally, for the sake of this demonstration, something of this size will be fine.”
They were closing in on the pack, which was heading straight for them, no doubt sensing the city. Demons often congregated around cities, unless there were witches about. Witch blood made the perfect demon-bate. He glanced over at Mya.
A demonic shriek split the air. “It looks like they’ve gotten wind of me,” Mya announced.
Indeed, a burst of speed overtook them. He finally made out several Xastors, two Akonns, a Kollm, and—
“Oh, gods!” Mya swore.
An Olum.
He braced himself and said, “That thing better do what you say it does, Weiss, or we’ll be in trouble.”
Never mind that he’d taken down an Olum all on his own during trials. He wanted Weiss to sweat a little. Wanted to see what the man was made of.
“It will,” Weiss assured him, a little too confidently. However, there was a bead of perspiration dotting the male’s brow, despite the cooler temperature.
Rixon made a humming sound, signaling for the others to stop. Everyone gathered in close. He could nearly feel Haspel breathing down his neck, eager to see if Weiss’s object would change the tide of his business endeavors. Change the fate of Raeria.
Minutes passed.
He could make out individual shapes now.
Weiss lifted the repeller and twisted. There was an audible click as the small bit of metal activated.
It was nearly instantaneous. The demons skidded to a halt less than fifty feet away, screeching and gnashing their teeth.
The Olum took several steps forward, slower this time, sniffed the air, then let out a fierce bellow.
Rixon blinked, taken aback. They weren’t attacking. The only time he’d seen this kind of behavior was when Mina used her demonic abilities to control them.
Likeminded, the pack changed direction and loped off the way they’d come.
“I’ll be damned,” said Haspel, his voice laced with awe. “It truly works.”
“Doesn’t fix the fact that there’s still a pack of demons on the loose,” said Flynn, his fingers twitching for his sword.
Rixon eyed the wielder then said, “Shall we chase them down?”
He hadn’t had a good kill in far too many days.
“Let’s.” Flynn turned to Mya. “Lady Witch?”
“Oh, yes. I suppose we shall. The rest of you lot had better return to the city with that thing, or we might never catch them.”
“Oh.” Weiss began to nod. “Oh, yes of course. I’ll go back.”
It took an hour to overtake the demons. That’s how fast they ran after sensing the thing Weiss had carried.
Slaughtering them was a welcome task after what he’d seen.
There were too many questions, too many holes to make sense of it just yet.
He wished Mina were here so they could understand this together.
“What do you make of it?” he asked Mya on their way back to the city.
“It almost seems too good to be true.” She frowned. “But if it’s not, it could be exactly what this kingdom needs right now.”
“You aren’t worried about being made obsolete?”
“Gods, no. I’d love to retire, possibly on a beach somewhere, without the threat of demons breathing down my neck.”
“Indeed.” He thought of Mina, of that day by the river when they’d had their picnic. Mina had mentioned how nice it would be if demons didn’t exist and they could just enjoy the outdoors. He wanted that—for both of them.
A thump outside Rixon’s door jerked him awake. After so many nights spent in the wild, he was not a heavy sleeper. There came a faint twist of the doorknob. He shed the remaining vestiges of sleep and reached for the dagger beneath his pillow. He never slept without one.
In the darkness, he could just make out a figure as it slipped into his sleeping chamber. Mina had removed the wards on his doors so that servants could come and go, delivering food and keeping the place tidy. At this hour, the palace was asleep, which meant only one thing.
He waited, pretending to be asleep, watching through the crack in his eyelids. The figure crept across the room on silent feet. He let his chest rise and fall in slow, even breaths. Beneath his pillow, he fisted his dagger.
The figure stopped beside his bed, lifting a blade—
He didn’t wait. He leapt up and tackled the assassin to the ground, grabbing the wrist holding the weapon.
They rolled across the floor, their bodies thudding loud enough to wake nearby palace occupants.
His attacker was male, heavily corded with muscle.
He plunged his dagger into the male’s thigh, far enough away from an artery, then followed it up again with several more thrusts to incapacitate.
A rough voice swore. The assassin lashed out, punching his side and making him grunt.
He only tightened his hold, weathering the beating.
The male tried to wrestle free of him and failed.
Only once the assassin lay prone did he stand. His breaths came in ragged gasps. He lit several lamps before removing the figure’s hood. It was an unfamiliar face, now grimaced in pain. He gave the male a solid kick that had him coughing and curling into a ball.
The floor was a bloody mess. The rug beside the bed—completely ruined. “My lady witch liked that rug,” he snarled. “You’re lucky she isn’t here. I think she likes playing with her food more than I do.”
The male tried to turn over, coughing up blood.
“Who are you working for?!”
“You think I’d tell?” More blood. The assassin reached for the blade abandoned nearby and Rixon kicked it away before slamming his bare foot on the male’s hand. A hiss of pain followed.
“I’ll break every fucking bone in your body. Maybe then you’ll tell me?”
“Wouldn’t…do you…any good.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because…I don’t…talk.”
“Everyone talks, given the right motivation.” He ground down with his heel, feeling bones crunch, making the male scream. If their tussle hadn’t already woken everyone, that certainly would. “Someone wants me dead, and I’m going to find out who.”
The door burst open and guards spilled into the room. “Your Majesty!” They rushed forward.
He stepped away and said, “Take this man to the dungeon. Make sure he is secured and healed enough to stay alive. Find Ethan. See if he can get any answers out of him.”
“At once, Your Majesty.” They dragged the man away, his low groans disappearing down the corridor.
He swore at the sight of the blood left behind.
“Shall I send for the servants, Your Majesty?” One of the guards lingered, noticing his distaste.
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Let them sleep. Have them here first thing in the morning.”
The guard nodded, then retreated.
He stepped out into the corridor and found both his guards slumped on the ground outside. They’d been wounded with crossbow bolts. That must have been the thump he’d heard—what had woken him. He bent and felt for a pulse. Both dead. Damn it.
It was at this moment his steward appeared, racing down the hall in his sleeping garments.
Andrei Toreli came to an abrupt halt. Andrei had been his father’s steward too, but not for long, his predecessor having died of a sudden heart condition, probably brought on by the mere fact that he’d worked for Maddox Kozma.
Andrei clutched his side, breathing hard. “I…I heard…there was an attack, Your…Majesty.” His eyes darted down to the dead guards before quickly looking away.
“Indeed. You just missed it. Have word sent to their families,” he instructed. “I’m going to the library.”
Andrei sputtered for several moments, then began barking commands at the remaining guards.
He didn’t care that he was shirtless and barefoot, or that he had streaks of blood covering his skin. He just needed to clear his mind and find some comfort.
The blood was dried by the time he reached the library’s doors. It was closed to the public after hours. Closed to anyone but him. The guards spotted him, spotted the blood, a question in their eyes—one they were smart enough not to ask. They’d find out soon enough.
They reached for the doors, opening them for him.
He swept inside, then stopped short. A dim light came from the entry desk. During public hours, it was overseen by several keepers, available to answer questions or pull books as needed.
He was surprised to see Nadia, the high keeper, standing over several books, hunching as she flipped pages. She abruptly stood and took him in. “Your—Your Majesty. Is everything all right?”
“Fine.”
“But…forgive my saying it but, I cannot allow you in here in such a contaminated state.” He blew out a breath. She seemed to sense his mood because she added, “Wait here for a moment.”
Nadia was an older woman in her mid-fifties, though she hid her age well. She was still rather beautiful, which meant that in her younger years, she must have been astonishing. Like all keepers, she had devoted her life to knowledge.
He’d known her when he was just a child, though not well.
She’d helped him find many books. Had even fostered his love of mysteries, sharing some of her favorites when their paths crossed.
Given that she was nearly twenty-five years his senior.
It created a sense of companionship between them.
He wouldn’t call her a friend, per se, but she was one of the few people in the capital he didn’t dislike.
“Here,” she said, reappearing with a damp cloth and bowl of water. He took the cloth and began scrubbing away the blood. She watched him for several moments, unabashedly taking in his bare torso before saying, “Would your lady witch approve of you marching around the palace on display like that?”
He huffed. The thought of Mina getting jealous over him…well, he liked it. He liked it a lot. But—“She’s not here. And anyway, it’s the middle of the night.”
“Right. Well. I’m guessing whatever happened with…” Nadia waved a hand at the disappearing blood on his skin. “Is what brought you in tonight.”
“It’s almost like you know me.”
“Indeed. What will it be then? Shall we continue our research?”
“Not tonight, I think.”
“A novel, then. Very well. I have a whole stack of them reserved for you. We’ve had a few new ones come in recently.”
“Good. I always trust your recommendations. I’ll take them all.”
At this, she offered a pleased grin, pulling a stack into view, like she’d had it waiting just beneath the counter for him all this time.
It wasn’t as if he had much time for reading these days.
That didn’t matter. It was an old habit, engrained.
Readers were optimistic people. He always believed that he’d read more than he could.
It’s why half the books she gave him remained stacked on his personal shelves in his apartment. He’d get to them…eventually.
Since he was the king now, he was pardoned from due dates and all that. If she needed one of the books returned, she knew where to find him. Perhaps that was one of the best perks of wearing his crown.
He looked at the titles she’d selected. “I think I’ll just take this one for now.”
He plucked one from the stack and walked over to an empty alcove, turning the lamp up until he had just enough light to read by. Then he collapsed onto his favorite chaise lounge and cracked the book open.