“You’ve been dying to ask the question, so ask it,” he told her, his eyes blatantly hungry. “Why you?” He stepped toward her. “Why did Minnaea and Andros and I single you out? Why are we protecting you? Why did the Challenger go after you? And why,” he said, gesturing to the Carnival without taking his eyes off her, “have I brought you here?”
“Okay,” she breathed, her voice a mere whisper. “You got me. Why me?”
“Because, Addie,” he said, his expression becoming earnest as he came into the light of the overhead full moon, and she could finally see his entire face.
He was a being from the depths of a woman’s darkest fantasy, a secret and tearing desire, a desperate longing, magnificent and deadly and impossibly unreal. His handsome brow furrowed, and his lips parted again, revealing bright white, perfectly sharp fangs. “You are destined to rule this realm beside me, Adelaide.” He paused, possibly waiting for the words to sink past her mind and into her soul. “You are the Nightmare Queen.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
He was hungry. Fuck that, he was starving.
She was tearing him up, and she had no idea. He was hiding it well. Wasn’t he?
Gods, I hope so, he thought. Because the monster inside him wanted out like it never had before. She was driving him closer to the breaking point every second.
A Nightmare didn’t need to eat or sleep, and it didn’t get hot or cold. But much like the infamous vampires of The Lost Boys… Nightmares had to feed.
It was a symbiotic relationship, really. The Nightmare found a beautiful soul, gave that soul pleasure, and fed off the resulting ecstasy. Bliss was an innocent emotion, base and real and unassuming. It was beauty in its purest form, and as such, it sustained a Nightmare like air, like water – indeed, like blood.
Nicholas hadn’t sunk his proverbial teeth into anyone since before he’d been killed. Hesperos had never been a patient man. But it was beginning to feel as if Nicholas Wargrave were even less so.
Every time his queen looked up at him, he saw straight into her soul. She was a banquet to a starving man. She was so much more than she realized.
Nero was out there somewhere, just on the other side of the Nightmare Realm’s door, trying to pick the lock. Nick could feel him. What was worse, Nero wasn’t alone. It wasn’t just the Challenger putting up a fight for Adelaide in that crypt, it was the Entity. One never forgets the face of the man who kills him, and whether he was wearing the Challenger’s mask or not, Nick recognized the evil bastard the second he’d stepped down into the tomb.
Had Nero been a willing victim? Were they working together?
Regardless – Nero was now far more powerful than he had been, and had twice the incentive for getting to Adelaide.
Nick couldn’t blame him. This time, the Challenger had more than a kingdom to win should he defeat Nick. He had a queen to win as well. The tastiest morsel an incubi ever imagined devouring. And this was the last time. This was Nero’s final chance, and he was running out of time. The Challenger only had so long to rid the world of the reborn king and take his place before the Fates sent him back to whatever non-existence it always sent him to. Likewise, if Nicholas didn’t face him, he could not reclaim his throne. Nero would vanish, and Nicholas would never be crowned. The Nightmare Realm would be without its sovereign forever.
Their battle was imperative. There was no hiding from it, not for either of them. And Nero was going to fight like there was no tomorrow, because if he didn’t win, there wouldn’t be.
All of this only made Nick’s monster want out even more. The faster Adelaide claimed her throne, the sooner she would be safe from the lot of them. But pressing matters with her wasn’t going to work. Hell, it never worked with anyone. But she, especially, was not the kind to bully. The results could be disastrous.
So he told his monster to back the fuck down. He only prayed it wasn’t a grave mistake. And that it would obey.
*****
Adelaide slowly turned to the path leading down, took a few steps, stopped, and turned back around to head up again. She did this a few times as Nick’s words echoed in her mind. It took her a moment or two to straighten them out. This is what she had to do when something really, really didn’t make sense to her: she had to move. She had to pace it out. She had to do something with her body while her brain worked furiously, or the imbalance of activity sent her into panic mode.
She stopped up where Nicholas was and raised her hands in a “What am I supposed to do with that?” kind of gesture. She opened her mouth to say something, but when she realized she didn’t know what she was going to say, she shut it again and turned back around to begin her pacing once more.
Nicholas, for his part, wings and all, said nothing. He stood there in stoic silence and watched her – and she couldn’t be more grateful for that. She needed this time. She needed this moment amidst the chaos her life had become to straighten a few things out.
He says I’m the Nightmare Queen.
But that means I’m special. I don’t even know what Nightmares really are, and I’m supposed to rule over them? I must be exceedingly special.
But I’m not that special.
But yes you are! her brain bit back. Look at your life. You’re psychic. You’ve won the lottery. You save lives. You are as special as a human can be! Aren’t you?
The last bit was said uncertainly. And her mind fell silent for a bit after that. Meanwhile, her boots paced out a path on the onyx-obsidian-ruby walkway.
You know there’s more, her brain insisted. You know elves are real, unicorns are real, and so is Santa Claus. You get feelings about things, and you have all your life, even since before you were psychic. You’re so sensitive that it’s painful. Maybe there’s something more to that. Maybe…
Maybe I’m meant to be queen of an entire supernatural nation? she questioned herself sarcastically.
Okay… yeah. That is admittedly a lot to swallow.
Finally, she stopped in her tracks and threw up her hands. “Nicholas, I have no idea what to think or say right now. My mind is a mess.”
Nicholas Wargrave, in all of his other-worldly beauty, smiled. Those fangs flashed. Addie’s core grew warm.
“How about this,” he suggested casually. “How about we head down into the Carnival and get something to eat and drink. We can talk.” He moved toward her. “You can ask me anything you want and I will answer you honestly. We have time.”
He stopped in front of her and gently took her hands. For some reason, she let him. It was comforting, despite the fangs.
“Does that sound okay to you?”
She nodded. It did.
“Then come here,” he said softly as he opened his arms.
She felt her eyes go wide again. “What?”
“Come here,” he laughed. “You want to fly over the Carnival. I told you I could arrange that.”
“By giving me wings?”
He shrugged, “Well eventually, yes. But for now, we’ll use mine.” He didn’t give her another chance to question him or protest. Instead, he rushed forward, and before she even fully realized he’d done so, his arms were wrapped securely around her waist, and his massive, powerful wings were beating hard against the air.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Adelaide yipped in surprise, but somehow and for some reason, she was a lot less surprised than she expected herself to be. She was also a lot less afraid. Now that he had wings, the Carnival allowed him to leave the cliff. As they leapt off, there was a part of Addie that just let go of her fear.
When her hair whipped behind her and the night caressed her face, she felt the anxiety melt away like that mist in the breeze, wispy and immaterial and no longer there. She gazed down at the lights and caught snippets of carnival music, like the chimes of a distant music box playing only for her. She saw the Ferris wheel, majestic and promising, and Nicholas flew them right over it. It was empty, but the wheel’s center lights raced down every spoke as if alive.
&nb
sp; All fun, no lines, she thought.
The night waited with its electric lights, with its mystery and secrets. It shone in a way the day never could. They flew over a carousel that slowly turned and shimmered in the moonlight, a fun house that yawned open and spooky, and countless smaller rides that beckoned for feet to walk their paths and hands to grip their bars. All the while, the sound of Nick’s wings beat steady and strong, rhythmic and hypnotizing.
The Carnival stretched to the horizon, a carpet of rainbow hues that glittered like a galaxy of stars. It went on forever. Yet, nowhere below did people move or mill. The park was empty. It was cheerily lit up and waiting like a living being with a pulsing heart, but empty and forgotten, like The Giving Tree when its boy had grown up.
Addie peered down at it in a kind of daze, hypnotized by its beauty and by her thoughts and by the secure feeling of Nicholas’s arms wrapped so tight around her. After a few minutes, she realized she felt safe. She felt like this was, for a lack of a better term, meant to be.
He lowered them to the ground gradually, carefully, and expertly. The lights became closer, the music louder, and Addie found her boots touching down on gray stone tiles beside one of the park’s many Ferris wheels. Addie craned her neck to take it all in. The cars or cages or whatever they were called were every color of the rainbow, and just as she’d suspected, they were all empty.
She turned around to face the Nightmare King.
She parted her lips to speak, but faltered. The sight of him momentarily struck her dumb – in the space of time since they’d left the cliff side, she’d forgotten how beautiful, and yet terrifying, he was. But she blinked, lowered her gaze, and gathered her thoughts. It was a little easier this time.
“The Carnival is empty,” she said softly. “Does it ever… feel lonely?”
Nicholas studied her for a moment, then regarded the Carnival around her. “At times, this park has welcomed thousands of Nightmares, fae, dragons, mages, vampires, and even Akyri. It is not always empty.”
Adelaide ran those words through her mind. Then she did it again, and this time, she touched her fingertips to her forehead. It felt warm, her fingers cool on fevered skin. Dragons… vampires… fae….
“By fae, do you mean elves?”
“Some are elves. Some are fairies. Some are Wishers or Tuathans. There are many types of fae.”
“But elves are real, then.”
He smiled. “Yes, Virginia. There are elves.”
Adelaide shook her head. “I knew it. I really did.” But that was nothing compared to the Nightmare Queen bit he’d laid on her. She blew out a breath. “I honestly don’t know how I’m processing all of this,” she admitted.
“I do.”
She dropped her hand and looked up.
He sighed and tilted his head a little. “Why don’t we get something to eat and, like I said, we can talk.”
He turned and started down the long “hall” that ran through the center of the Carnival of Night. She watched him go for a moment. She couldn’t help it. His wings seemed to magically sprout from his black tee-shirt, which hugged tight to a broad, well-muscled build that made her mouth water a little. The jacket had vanished. Equally tight jeans revealed strong, sculpted legs. Boots not unlike her own, leather and practical, finished the outfit. He cast every bit the impression she’d had of him earlier – a fallen angel.
His shadow on the stone beneath his boots was immense, body long, wings stretching into the darkness of the alleys on either side. It was as if his reflection were the real him, a smidgeon of the beast that lay underneath, the dark and the gigantic.
He glanced at her over his broad shoulder. “You coming?”
“Uh…” she shook her head and then nodded. “Yeah.”
She followed him past several rides and stands, all unmanned. One was blue and pink and had paintings of cotton candy above it, clearly a sweets stand. Another had a slushy machine drawn on it. But they were all dark beyond their windows. It was actually eerie. She wondered how Nicholas planned on getting food from a Carnival that had no workers.
They stopped in front of a yellow and white striped booth with no signs. Addie looked at the empty window and the darkness beyond, and her gaze narrowed. Okay, I can’t wait to see what he does with this. She glanced up at the winged man beside her, and he smiled.
Just as he had on the cliff side, Nicholas raised his arms at his sides and closed his eyes. The air rippled, and something strong moved over her, so powerful, it caused her hair to fly out around her, and nearly knocked her off her feet.
“Whoa!” she breathed as she stumbled back to catch her balance. She felt strange and tingly, and her heart was racing as if she’d just ingested an entire Monster Drink. She felt, for all intents and purposes – alive. “What the hell was… that….” She trailed off as she noticed several things at once.
The music around her had grown louder, and joining with it now were the sounds of hundreds of voices. They were raised in mock fear, laughter, and jubilant conversation. Adelaide stood where she was and slowly turned in place.
A child ran past her carrying several coins, speeding full-tilt toward the candy stand they’d passed earlier. He had white-blonde hair and eyes that were light yellow with lavender pupils. Tiny fangs peeked out from his top lip to rest upon his bottom lip. His ears were long and pointed.
Behind him followed a younger girl. She screamed for him to wait up, and without looking at her, he told her to hurry up. The girl had hair the same color as his, which led Addie to believe they were siblings. But hers was streaked with shots of purple the same shade as her pupils. The little girl’s ears were pointed as well, but a touch shorter. She, too, had fangs. However, unlike her older brother, wings rose from her back, dainty, graceful, and reminiscent of a dragonfly. The wings beat wildly behind her as if they could help her catch up to her brother, but he still beat her to the candy stand.
Which was now manned by a plump woman with thousands of bright red ringlets for hair and three eyes – two where Addie was accustomed to seeing them, and a third in the center of her forehead.
All around her, strange people walked, ran, milled, and rode the rides of the Carnival of Night. Moments ago, it had been a waiting reverie, beautiful but empty. And now it was filled to the brim with creatures of every imagination.
Addie gazed about her in wonder. “It’s like a dream,” she whispered.
“And so it should be,” came his voice at her ear. She felt a heat move through her at the sound so close to her skin. She turned and looked up. “It was made from dreams,” he told her. “It was made from mine.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Are you certain you’re willing to keep fighting for the Nightmare Queen?” the Entity asked from inside him. “I understand she is important to you. But with this new life, you could have any woman on the planet.”
Nero laughed. It hurt to laugh, since the Vampire King’s hands had been wrapped very tightly around his throat hours earlier and Nero had yet to heal from the damage inflicted. But he did find the Entity’s question amusing.
Admittedly, Adelaide Lane was no supermodel fae. She was human, and humanity was fallible. She was tall, but her bones were thick. That made them strong. But some humans would find them “chunky.” Her hair was full and healthy. But many humans would see it as disastrously curly. Her skin was neither dark nor light, and freckles covered her cheeks and shoulders. He’d seen some peek teasingly out from beneath the collar of her shirt when they’d been in the Duat.
Many humans found freckles unattractive. It was something having to do with the way they broke up the smooth foundation of a face. Or whatever.
The shortcomings of human philosophy would forever amuse Nero. The extents to which humanity went to create the impossible goal and then strive for that impossibility was frankly hilarious. Only humans could torture themselves so: Women must have eight percent body fat, but enormous breasts.
He chuckled out loud at the thou
ght, and again regretted it. But anyone with half a brain and an inkling of physiological knowledge was well aware the two were an impossible combination. However, humans were not to be daunted: Our beauty goal is impossible? Never fear, we will simply build the perfect female form! Introducing silicone!
Nero shook his head and sighed. Sometimes it was funny. But sometimes it felt exhausting. And he was only on Earth for brief periods of time. He could only imagine how humans felt themselves. Especially women.
For an incubus, sight was strange. Incubi did not see what others saw. Their eyes translated what their hearts felt. Hence, a pudgy, balding man on a subway train might appear very different to a Nightmare than he did to another human. For instance, if the man had recently donated to a charity, held a door open for a stranger, or given up his seat for a woman, the Nightmare might see someone who looked more like one of his own kind, like an incubus: tall and handsome.
If, however, the balding man had just backstabbed someone, helped spread a cruel rumor, or ticketed a car parked in a space two minutes too long, the Nightmare might see exactly what other humans saw: ugliness.
It wasn’t that the incubus was not fully aware of the person’s real physical form. He was. It was simply that it was by far less important than what his heart saw.
“I am,” Nero finally said in answer to the Entity’s question. It wasn’t necessary to say it aloud; the Entity knew his thoughts. But it helped Nero to give it voice, especially after their recent setback.
Things had gone terribly wrong in the Duat. Somehow, the Nightmare King had known he would be there. Not only had he known, but he’d beaten Nero to the destination and had been lying in wait in Amunet’s chamber. He hadn’t been there alone, either. Both of his Preceptors and several supernaturals had been in the tomb with him. The fight had been furious, but fortunately fast, as the Duat had spit them out one after another, and they’d been literally ripped from one another’s killing grips.
Now Nero was back where he started. More or less. And Adelaide Lane was with the Nightmare King in the Carnival.