Pieces of the stone fell away, tumbling into the endless nothing, disappearing beneath the pitch forever. The lid of the sarcophagus rattled and slid ever so slightly off to one side, bearing mere inches of what waited inside.
The Entity coalesced, a shadow drawing together into a dense ball of evil with tentacles that whipped out around it like the curling limbs of a many-armed sea star or urchin. It turned in the air as Nicholas stepped cautiously back, and his eyes darted back and forth and his mind obviously churned, trying to figure out what exactly to do next.
But maybe Nero was wrong about that.
Because Nicholas looked down at him as Nero slowly sat up on the wobbling, crumbling platform. He met his gaze, and Nero stilled. Nicholas smiled slowly, knowingly. In Nero’s head, he heard a voice.
You win, brother. Take care of her for me.
And then he looked back up at the condensed mass of hatred – and using a Nightmare’s inherent ability, Nicholas pulled the bastard into himself.
Chapter Fifty
Nero watched as Nicholas cast out his mental arms, and wrapped them around the wispy madness, and drew the Entity into his body as if he were pulling in a soul. He did it so easily; he’d had practice wrangling this particular spirit.
The Challenger got to his feet as the king’s words echoed in his mind.
You win, brother.
Nero heard the words again, felt them reverberate inside. One word in particular. Brother.
And something inside Nero changed.
Several feet away, Nicholas Wargrave moved to the edge of the failing platform. Chunks broke off from beneath his boots and dropped away. His glowing eyes swirled from red to silver to white and back again. He was going to jump. Nero knew it suddenly and definitely.
“Nicholas, please no!” cried Adelaide, who had returned after depositing Mimi and was again hovering over the chasm. Her wings beat out a steady rhythm against the air. She must have come to the same conclusion Nero had, at the same time. Or maybe she’d already known. She was the queen, and she was a seer. Maybe now she only wanted to stop him.
But there was not going to be any stopping Nicholas. Nero knew this in his heart. The Nightmare King was going to end this here and now, once and for all.
Nero watched Nicholas fold in his wings. He watched him turn and look at his queen one last time. He watched him wink at her. And then he stepped off the ledge.
“Nooooo!” Adelaide’s scream of despair filled the edges of time and space.
Nero stood still, wing broken, body battered, and closed his eyes. He reached out with his Nightmare arms, with his will and his ultimate surrender. He found the soul he wanted in that darkness beyond, and he yanked hard.
It resisted only a fraction of a moment before it too surrendered. He kept pulling, drawing the wayward spirit into himself, into his body, where it settled in beside his own and began to mingle with it.
Two halves torn apart by time and space, by the whims of fate, were joined together once more. Gray and green. Silver and emerald. They forged like puzzle pieces made of steel, tight and strong and forever.
The platform gave out completely. It crumbled inward from beneath him, and clouds of dust shot into the air. Nero’s eyes opened, then widened. He extended his wings – but one was broken. They batted inefficiently against the air in an attempt to rise above the nothing, and they failed.
And then she was there, her arms wrapping solidly around him, her own strong wings picking up the slack he couldn’t reach. They beat once, twice, three times against the debris-filled air, and he rose as the ground caved in beneath them and the roar of its chaos echoed around them.
Adelaide was crying. Her cheeks were wet as she gritted her teeth and held tight to him and his arm slid around her waist, and she lifted them higher and higher. The wind moved through her hair. Time seemed to slow.
Nero looked down. There was nothing below. It was all gone, sucked up by never.
Along with Nicholas’s body, the Entity, and Nero’s Sleeper.
They moved over the chasm until the bridge reappeared, and soon the outcropping. Everyone was still there: Andros, Minnaea, Mimi the dragon, the Vampire King, and the young werewolf-witch Dannai. Dannai Caige stood at the edge of the outcropping, staring into the distance where the platform had tumbled into the darkness below. Amunet had been her mother. And now she was no more.
Nero supposed that even when your family was filled with anger and fury, even when you knew they were wrong, even when you were drawn to battle them again and again, there was still something there that connected you to them. He would know all about that, actually.
His feet touched down, and Adelaide fell to the floor beside him, her gorgeous wings folding in at her back as she clutched at the rock of the outcropping and closed her eyes, shaking uncontrollably.
“You saved me,” he said softly.
She turned her head where she was, silently and painfully mourning her loss. Her expression was stricken, her eyes glowing gold.
“I knew you would,” he said then.
She frowned and wiped fiercely at her face, trying to clear away the tears.
Nero transformed, allowing the Nightmare – Nightmares – within him to recede and leave behind his human form. It hurt a lot less. The broken wing would heal now, where it rested in secret.
He knelt slowly beside Adelaide, lowering himself gracefully to one knee and curling his finger beneath her chin. She let him. She was lost in his gaze.
“Your eyes…” she whispered, confusion playing catch with the pain in her features. “They’re changing.”
He knew that. He knew they were slowly shifting – green… silver… green… silver.
“Addie,” he said softly, “it’s me.”
Adelaide’s frown remained. She slowly pulled away and straightened. All around her, their companions had gone very still and very quiet, watching in hopeful fascination.
“It’s Nicholas,” he told her. And then he shrugged and smiled. “Well, sort of. It’s both of us, actually.”
“By the gods,” said Roman. “Nero drew Nick’s soul into him before Nicholas vanished beneath the nothingness.”
Adelaide looked Nero over, then glanced at Roman, then looked back at Nero again. She got to her feet, taking a step back. She was clearly uncertain and more than a little disbelieving. She reminded him of Belle from Beauty and the Beast when her Beast is turned back into a human.
“I don’t have to wear contacts now,” he told her, grinning.
She blinked. Her eyes widened. She took a cautious step forward.
“Nicholas knew you would save Nero,” said Roman. Addie looked at him.
Minnaea nodded. “You save everyone,” she added. Addie met her gaze.
“What he hadn’t expected,” said Andros, “was that Nero would save him.” Adelaide looked from Andros back to Nero.
“How do I know?” she asked softly, so softly. Her voice was filled with quiet hope and yet unshed tears.
But Nero could tell she already believed. He could feel it in her. She moved forward as if drawn in by gravity, and when she stood directly in front of him, she raised her hand and cupped his cheek. He placed his hand gently over it, lovingly, tenderly.
“Where did we make love?” she asked.
He grinned, flashing fangs. “If you mean, where did I have my wicked way with you again and again, that would be the Crystal Carousel,” he told her in his deep, dark sexy British accent. He laced his fingers with hers and brought her hand to his lips to place a kiss upon them, but he never broke eye contact, and his gaze told her he couldn’t wait to have his way with her a bunch more times.
Adelaide flushed bright red, and her amber eyes flashed. She matched his grin with one of her own. “It is you.”
“Well, this is awkward,” said Mimi Tanniym. “And is it really fair for you to use innuendo to ‘prove,’” she made the quotes sign with her fingers, “that you’re who you say you are?”
Addie laughed, and so did Nero. It was the first time he’d ever really laughed. It felt damn good.
However, Roman had a more permanent solution. “The names,” he said through his own smile. “Hesperos left us with three names that he would have to speak, like secret passwords, before he returned to his place at the Table of the Thirteen.”
“Yes!” said Minnaea. “The king’s real names! That’s perfect!”
But Nero could tell she knew already too. The names, which he now knew and would always know because he was the Challenger and the king in one, were just extra proof. Minnaea could sense her king before her. So could Andros. The two looked at him with wide-eyed expressions, and then they looked at each other.
They’re looking at each other, Nero realized.
They’re still here.
“You broke the cycle,” Minnaea said through her broad smile. Andros joined her, sliding an arm around her waist to pull her close. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned her head against his shoulder. He kissed her forehead.
Minnaea met Nero’s gaze. “We’re here to stay.”
Epilogue
Evangeline had paced a hole in the floor by the time the group came back with Mimi. She rushed forward and embraced the child with fierce relief, and barely managed to keep from crying. She wouldn’t admit how afraid she’d been, and was embarrassed for them to see it. It was strange for her to care this much for someone. She’d been around a long time. People came and went. She’d grown accustomed to not getting attached; it was easier that way.
But Mimi had taken her by surprise. She’d met the girl at an internet café once, where Mimi was playing some online game with strangers. The strangers had been giving her a hard time, and Eva had watched the girl’s face fall as she’d dealt with their meanness.
Eva had stood up, approached the table with her coffee in hand, and said, “Want some help?’
Eva was a very fast learner. She hadn’t played many computer games up to that point, but knew that once she was introduced to them, she would catch on very quickly. She would kick ass. It was part of who and what she was.
The girl looked up at her and could obviously smell the dragon in her, because her expression was that of someone who instantly knew the person in front of them had something in common with them. She smiled hopefully and said, “You play League of Legends?”
Eva shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
“Then, yes please!”
Eva was right about catching on quick. The strangers giving Mimi a hard time shut up fast, and the pair of them won every match they played. Their friendship was solid from then on.
Eva had expected it to fade. But it didn’t. She was enchanted by the little red dragon. She cared for her deeply. Like a little sister. A very little sister. Eva had several thousand years on Mimi, after all.
So when she came back from the Duat in one piece, Eva had a hard time letting go of her, and only did so when a limousine from the Swallowtail Foundation came to pick the girl up. That was where Mimi lived – with her aunt in an enormous high-rise apartment complex that housed the mysterious Swallowtail Foundation, which Eva happened to know was owned and run by an equally mysterious and exceedingly wealthy green dragon by the name of Verdigris. The name all but gave it away.
The only one who didn’t come back from the Duat was Nicholas Wargrave.
According to the returning party, Nicholas was in Nero now. And the Entity was dead, along with Amunet. Adelaide had returned to the Nightmare Realm to retrieve her dog, whom she insisted needed lots of love and attention. Meanwhile, Nero and three other Kings had traveled to a placed called the “Cemetery,” which Eva knew absolutely nothing about, apparently for security reasons. There, Nero recited three passwords to the three Kings, and secured his place once more at the Table of the Thirteen.
Evangeline didn’t even know how to feel about all of it. She was relieved the Entity was gone. She was also frightened. She’d learned something unsettling about herself.
She had come so close to being in a situation that she couldn’t get out of, all because she’d made a rash decision and followed her heart. She’d wanted to do good for the world. She’d wanted… hell, in truth, she’d just wanted to be as worthwhile as her mother had always been.
Eva sighed now as she thought of the old witch. Her goddamned powerful and perfect mother. The woman who commanded respect for thousands of years, no matter what form she took. There was no living up to her. Even when Eva tried, she was so misguided, she ended up making an ass of herself and doing something like working for the most evil being in the realms.
When the Entity had ordered her to kill Lalura Chantelle, Evangeline had almost laughed. He’d known that Lalura was her mother. But he’d had no idea what Lalura was. However, to laugh in front of the Entity would have been suicidal. So she’d pretended to go along with her orders. She’d faced off with her mother.
Sort of.
Her mother was an Entity too. Only, they were really called Nomads. That was what ancient cultures had called them, anyway: taxidiotis in Greek, musafir in Arabic, viatorem in Latin. The Travelers. The Nomads.
Lalura Chantelle was just like the evil creature that the supernatural Thirteen referred to as the “Entity.” Except that rather than being composed of the negative aspects of existence, she contained and possessed the positive.
She’d been a cranky old bat as a human witch. She’d been blunt and demanding. She’d been bossy and impatient. But there was a very big and very important difference between being kind and being good. Lalura Chantelle was a canker sore of a human being. But she was good. And she’d helped countless people in her own rip-off-the-Band-Aid way.
When the time came, Lalura of course knew that her daughter was sent to kill her. She met up with Eva and put on a show for anyone who might have been watching. She’d “beaten” Evangeline. And the grisly task of her murder had been given to someone else. It was given to the Entity’s Traitor. As misfortune would have it, the Thirteen still did not have absolute proof as to who the hell that was.
But whoever he was, he succeeded where Eva apparently failed. He killed old witch.
Now Eva was left wondering what new form her mother had taken. Where she was at any given moment. Who she was helping.
“Not me,” she said softly and with a bite of acid. She’d been staring out the window of the BART train, watching the platforms and people blur by. They were just like her thoughts, indistinct and many. But each vital. Life was so vital.
She was on her way to see Mimi. The girl wanted to introduce Eva to the new Dragon King, Calidum. For some reason, it was important to her. And truth be told, Eva had been curious about this guy anyway. So she’d agreed.
She could have just transported directly into the Dragon Realm. But that would have given an aspect of herself away, and probably would have been taken as an unwelcome interruption. People didn’t generally like it when strangers managed to breach their realms’ defenses and just waltz right in without a care. And that was the least of what Eva could do.
So she’d agreed to play down her abilities. Way down. She’d even hopped on the BART so she could meet Mimi and Cal – that’s what Mimi called him – at the Westfield Center in San Francisco. They were going to have yogurt together. Of all things.
Eva smiled to herself, shaking her head. Mimi took any opportunity she could to eat candy, especially Gummy Bears, and getting kidnapped by the Entity and narrowly escaping death had earned her an afternoon of being spoiled by none other than the king of the dragons himself. So he’d agreed to buy her a large yogurt topped with Gummy Bears.
Eva would bet that the male students in her small, elite class weren’t teasing Mimi quite so much anymore now that the King was her personal friend.
The BART pulled up to the platform she needed, which was basically right underneath Westfield Center, a large well-appointed shopping mall in downtown San Francisco. The food here was fantastic; Eva’s personal favorite was Loving H
ut. She knew the layout well enough to hop right off, move down a few feet to the windows of the Starbucks that was at the edge of the mall, and double check her reflection in the glass before moving on.
She’d used her magic to change her hair again. Eva’s real hair was just too attention-grabbing. No one in the world had waist-length waves of pure snow white with the thickness of three heads of hair. So she’d turned it light brown and put it in a braid. The braid had been too thick, though, so she’d immediately taken it right back out of the braid and just left it hanging free and loose in its shimmering layers.
It was still attention-getting, but this time not for being strange, just for being beautiful. Of course, Eva felt her real hair was beautiful. But she was partial to it because she’d inherited it from her father. And she missed him.
Eva stopped in her tracks and turned back to the shop windows beside her. She met her own reflected gaze. There in that lavender hue, she saw her memories. She was running along the top of a mountain cliff, a man following just behind her. She stopped at the pinnacle of the peak and turned to face him, giggling with glee and ready to jump off.
The man was dressed in all white. He always would be; he couldn’t wear anything else. His hair matched his royal robes, and his star-white eyes flashed merrily. He was such a handsome man. Tall, strong, majestic and wise.
He was the Great White. Anharidan.
He was her father.
Eva closed her eyes, lowered her head, and pinched the bridge of her nose. She had a sudden headache. It was the result of the unwelcome urge to cry. She shoved the urge willfully back and lifted her head again.
The Great White was dead. He’d been murdered by the Great Gray thousands of years ago, when she was but a child. That was the way the story really went. That was where the legend got everything wrong. It wasn’t Bantariax who’d been betrayed and killed by his brother Korridum. Anharidan had gone down instead.
In truth, the Great Gray had been confronted by Bantariax, the Great Black. But he’d escaped judgment, only to vanish into the realms. He would never to pay for his crimes. He would never even so much as explain why he’d done what he’d done.