“Mmmm, I must say, Icarus, you have good taste in friends.” She let Powell’s body drop to the ground.
Icarus seethed. The bitch didn’t know when to mind her own business. He stilled himself against his rage. She wanted him angry and unbalanced. “Are you quite finished?”
“Not quite.” She prowled toward him. “I’ll take the Bringer, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, but I do mind.” He snarled and crouched. “If you want her, come and get her.”
Sha-hera mirrored his fighting stance and bared her fangs. “I’m going to enjoy this,” she purred.
“Not nearly as much as I am.”
She sprang as Icarus launched toward her. The two demons collided in midair, wings flaring and talons clashing. She slashed at his throat, but Icarus dodged her deadly attack. He twisted her arm behind her back and as he landed, Icarus spun and released her. Sha-hera soared across the clearing and slammed into a tree. The trunk exploded in a spray of splinters and split down the center. She slid to the ground and rolled, coming to her feet.
“You will never rule the Bane.” She crouched again. “You are Vile’s private joke.” She launched herself at him again.
Icarus met her attack, keeping himself between Ravyn and the she-demon and ignoring the sting of uncertainty her words caused. Razor-sharp fangs sank into his shoulder as she speared him in the sides with her long talons. Pain tore through his torso as Sha-hera punctured flesh and bone, ripping and tearing at the muscle around his ribs. He grabbed her by the horns and dragged her head back to pull her fangs free.
“You are a Bane whore and nothing more,” he said into her face. She snapped, trying to sink her incisors into him. “The only worth you have to the king is when you spread your legs.”
Rage rolled off her and she screamed, pushing her talons deeper, burrowing farther into his body.
“And you are nothing but a lost soul. An idiot dangling at the end of the Demon King’s strings.”
Fire burned as she stripped the flesh from his bones. Still gripping her horns, he pressed her to the ground. Sha-hera braced her legs against their descent, but Icarus used his weight to tip forward and knocked her offbalance. They went down, even though Sha-hera’s talons remained buried. She flared her wings and extended their tips in an effort to impale him, but Icarus levered his knee against her neck and crushed her to the ground.
The she-demon kicked and flopped under the weight of his body, choking as he applied pressure to her throat. Icarus pressed his other knee against her stomach and pinned Sha-hera under him. He seized her wrists and pulled away, extracting her talons from his body. The succubus bucked, trying to unseat him, but Icarus had the advantage of weight and position.
“I am the son of a king,” he gritted out.
She stopped struggling and began to laugh. The sound rubbed against him like sand against his skin. He yanked Sha-hera off the ground and threw her into the air. Before she had time to recover, he pelted her with spinning balls of energy. Tiny bolts of lightning consumed her body as she hung frozen in midair, jerking. Icarus settled on his haunches, crouched for another attack. Her piercing cry made him smile. He catapulted into the air, digging his talons into her neck, and ripped out her throat.
A sickening, sucking noise gurgled from her mouth as she clutched at her neck. With another spin, Icarus blasted her with energy. For the second time in as many days, Sha-hera exploded into a million glowing bits. The embers swirled and twisted, picking up speed. Icarus hauled Ravyn into his arms and braced himself against a tree. Within seconds, the glowing vortex plunged into the earth and disappeared.
He’d defeated Sha-hera, but if what she said was true, his father would be expecting betrayal from him. Sha-hera’s words echoed through his mind. More than likely she’d been baiting him, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew more.
As the sands of time ran out, his plan crumbled with it. He bit back a curse. It looked like he’d have to crawl into bed with the enemy. With Ravyn cradled in his arms, he launched himself into the sky.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ravyn shivered and moaned. Why was she so cold? A crippling agony tore through her. Pain shot through her head and down her entire body as she rolled over. Her arms and chest were on fire, burning her from the inside out. Whispers chased around her, but she couldn’t understand what they said. She opened her eyes and stared up. Something moved above her. She squinted and then recoiled. Small hunchbacked creatures stared down at her from jutting rocks. They looked like misshapen monkeys but their brown skin was furless. Blue flames danced in their black, egg-shaped eyes. Demons.
“They’re imps,” said a voice to her left.
Shards of pain raced through her as she turned to see a large, blue-winged demon. His massive, blue-marbled body reclined against the back of a throne. Her eyes widened as the slow revelation of who held her captive sunk in—Vile, the Demon King.
Ravyn turned her head to the right and gasped. Hundreds of Bane demons stood mere yards away, their yellow eyes peering at her with a frightening hunger. She looked back at the ceiling, preferring the imps to the horrid creatures encircling her.
“It’s rather shocking, isn’t it? Waking to find yourself sur-rounded by the Bane, with no chance of escape?” Vile’s voice sounded almost bored. Almost. “There isn’t, you know. In case you were wondering. There is no possible chance of escape.”
Ravyn closed her eyes and reminded herself to breathe. Her heart beat so hard it made her nauseous. Tiny shivers, which had nothing to do with cold and everything to do with terror, rippled through her body. She sifted through everything she’d learned over the past few weeks, but no solution came to mind. A sigh escaped her as she struggled to find her calm but failed. She turned to her side and sat up. Her head pounded and her fire pushed against her. Now she understood the agony rushing through her body. How could her power not rage when she was practically drowning in demons? She strengthened her shields and focused on the king.
She feigned calm. “Vile, I presume?”
“Yes,” he purred. “King of the Demon Bane, ruler of the Shadow World, and slayer of Bringers.”
She eased to her feet and dusted off her pants, letting her gaze wander around the chamber. She coughed against the assortment of putrid smells, too numerous and foul to identify. Blue flames burned from pits in the ground but appeared to give off no heat. Rough walls soared to a jagged ceiling. Her perusal tracked downward and settled on the king. She squinted and stilled herself from recoiling as she realized he sat upon a throne made of bones.
“Very”—she coughed again—“impressive.”
“You’re not impressed?” Vile asked.
Scared, yes. Impressed, no. “Should I be?”
“Oh yes, my lady. You should be in awe of my very presence. I am the demon that decimated the entire Bringer population.” Titters of excitement rang through the dark cavern.
She crossed her arms and arched a brow. “Really? Then what am I?”
“Yes, indeed,” he drawled. “What are you?”
He rose and spread his wings as he descended the steps of his dais. She wanted to back up as far as possible, but she didn’t move. His heavy footfalls crushed the debris of bones and rock beneath his feet as he prowled toward her. Vile stopped and towered, peering at her for several seconds with his snakelike eyes.
The fire moved and churned under her skin, beating against her barriers. She shifted as the pressure nearly buckled her knees. Her neck ached from looking up at the demon, but she held his gaze. She might not get out of here alive, but she’d not die a coward.
“You look very much like your mother,” Vile said.
The breath froze in her body. Of all the things she had expected him to say, that was not one of them. Logic told her not to respond, not to fall for his ploy, but cursed curiosity won out. “What do you know of my mother?”
The king smiled triumphantly and stepped away from her. He held his arms out wide in a grand
gesture. “My lady, I know everything about your mother. And your father.”
Her chest tightened and dread washed through her. Fire hovered below the skin in the palms of her hand. She readied herself for his lies and his attack.
“Would you like me to tell you about them?” he asked.
She didn’t respond.
“I will,” he said, smiling. “I’ll tell you everything I know. It will be my gift to you before I take your powers and join with you.”
She glanced away, not wanting him to see the effect his words had on her. She scanned the great hall, panning across the demons’ faces. Her gaze stopped, riveted on Icarus across the chamber. His black, muscular body stood framed by the doorway. He watched her, unmoving. She held his gaze as something foreign passed between them. Could she call it comfort? Surely not.
“Icarus is my second-in-command, and my son.” Ravyn didn’t miss Vile’s mocking tone. “After many failed attempts, he has at last succeeded in bringing you to the belly of the Shadow World. I didn’t think he would.”
She noticed he said would, not could. What was Icarus playing at? He could have taken her the night on the ship, but he hadn’t. “Yes, he’s very efficient,” she said flatly.
“Icarus, take the rest of the day off.” Vile threw back his head and laughed at his own joke.
Bowing, Icarus backed out of the arched doorway, his eyes never leaving her until the shadows swallowed him. For whatever reason, his departure did not make her feel better.
She dragged her gaze from the empty entrance and turned to Vile. “Yes, I would like to know about my parents.”
“Splendid,” he bellowed. He strode up the stairs and onto the dais. In true showmanship fashion, he stood in the center so all could see and hear him. “Before I tell you about your parents, let me tell you about yourself.”
Ravyn kept her expression passive, but inside confusion, mistrust, and even hope rioted. There was no sorting through the feelings, not this late in the story. Her posture was stiff and unyielding as she waited for the king of the demons to reveal another unknown chapter of her life. Sadly, the knowledge would come too late.
“You are a Bringer,” he said. “That is to say, my lady, you’re a full-blooded Bringer.”
She struggled to keep her voice even. “Not possible. The last full-bloods were killed over three hundred years ago.”
“They have me to thank for their near-extinction. But you are not from those Bringers.” He stopped, as if she knew what he was talking about. “You are a product of the new Bringers.”
“I don’t understand.”
He paced along the dais, his steps rumbling under the mass of his body. “They thought they were clever, but they weren’t clever enough. You see, I knew.” He paused and pinned her with a stare. “I knew they had come back, searching for their comrades, but I’d already killed them.”
Ravyn couldn’t move, couldn’t swallow, couldn’t look away from the fiery yellow eyes boring into her. What was he saying? Were her parents dead? Had she truly lost them before she got the chance to know them? Or were they still alive? Hope flared.
“You, Lady Ravyn,” he said. “You are the daughter of King Janus and his bitch queen.”
Ravyn stared at him and then burst into laughter. After a second, she wiped her eyes and sighed. “Nobody told me you had a sense of humor.”
“You think I am joking?” he shouted.
She sobered. “I think you’re lying. Why would I believe anything you have to tell me?”
He jumped from the dais, his weight cracking the stone of the floor. He stopped inches from her. “I know, because I watched them come through the archway. I know because I’m the one who led the attack on your father’s retinue. I know because I’m the one who killed your mother and father.”
She fisted her hands, wanting nothing more than to silence his lying mouth but unable to control her need to know more. “If you killed my parents, then how am I alive? Why didn’t you kill me?”
Vile stroked his chin and took a step back. “Yes indeed, why didn’t I kill you?”
Not a demon stirred as she stared him, struggling to temper the fire flaring in her chest.
He tilted his head and gazed at her, then turned and sauntered to his throne. With a flourish of his wings, he folded them behind his back and sat. “I didn’t kill you because I didn’t know you existed. But wasn’t I pleasantly surprised when the monk informed Icarus about the odd girl in the abbey, especially since I thought I’d killed all the full-blooded Bringers. But now I needed some for the Ritual of Taking. A little shortsighted on my part. But here you are, and here I am. It all worked out for the best.”
Growls of laughter sounded behind her. Tears burned at the back of her eyes. She wouldn’t cry. He could be lying. Probably was lying. Sainted Ones, she prayed he was lying. Not that it mattered. She was about to die. “Well, you’ve told me. Now what?”
The chamber fell deadly silent.
“Well, Lady Ravyn, I thought we’d have a little fun.”
“Is this before, during, or after you kill me?” she asked warily.
“Kill you?” He looked genuinely surprised. “No, no, I need you alive for what I have planned.” His expression melted into a cunning gaze. “Besides, I’d need an immortal weapon if I were going to kill you.” He stared. “Wouldn’t I?”
She didn’t reply.
“No, Lady Ravyn, this is simply a little entertainment before more important matters.” He stood and clapped his hands. The loud scrape of a metal bolt sliding free sounded from the back of the cavern. “I have something very special planned for you. We’ve been told what a great warrior you are, and I thought I’d give you the chance to show off a bit. I’m dying to see what you’re made of.”
Heavy hinges protested, the high-pitched grind of metal-on-metal screeching through the cavern. Ravyn turned and followed the sound. Blood pounded in her ears and her heart raced. She would fight. She could do that, and had done it several times already. The hair on the back of her neck pricked with a sense of something familiar. Had Vile chosen his largest demon? She looked at the horde and knew she wouldn’t win in a physical fight.
The crowd of Bane in front of her fanned out to make a path for whatever headed her way. She rubbed her hands against her pants, her fire burning against her palms. Fear choked her as she tried to catch a breath.
She could fight. She was a Bringer.
Her thoughts flittered to Rhys. The last memory she’d have of him would be their argument. How she wished she’d told him that she loved him. Regrets weighed heavier than an anchor on a drowning man. She squared her shoulders and faced the crowd.
“I thought a little Bringer versus Bane challenge was in order,” Vile said.
The last of the crowd parted to reveal a leather-clad demon. Her light green skin covered hard, toned muscle, sleek and honed. Ravyn looked into the face of the demon and gasped.
“Angela?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Have you seen Ravyn?” Rhys asked Lady Tobin, one of the Council members.
“Is she missing?”
He smiled. “She probably just stepped outside for some fresh air. I’ll look for her in the garden.”
Luc met him at the terrace doors. “Did you find her?”
Rhys shook his head, and they walked outside for privacy. “Nobody has seen her.”
Where is she? The beast inside stirred. Rhys opened his mind to scan the area. The taint of Bane mingled with the night air. The beast lifted its head, coming fully awake.
“Bane,” Rhys said.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Get Siban and meet me at the entrance. Maybe he can tell us something.”
Luc left without question, his pace quick and purposeful. Rhys’s anxiety heightened as the animal’s agitation grew. He filtered through the crowd, the people parting like water around a rock. He would find her. He had to find her. Fear, pure and cold, ran through him. What if the demo
ns had taken her? He punched a wooden door as he passed, sending people scattering. All his lectures on duty and responsibility faded into the ridiculous. He should have insisted on being with Ravyn in the Council chamber, supporting her. But mostly he should have never pushed her away. He jogged along the path to the entrance of Illuma Grand. The demon stain was stronger here. He scanned the area again but felt nothing. No demons, and no Ravyn.
Siban and Luc came around the corner and joined him on the top step. Siban closed his eyes and stood motionless for several seconds, reading the night. None of the men spoke. Rhys clenched and unclenched his jaw, waiting as precious seconds ticked by.
“She’s been taken.” Siban opened his eyes and patted the stone railing. “From here. It was quick.”
“Damn!” Rhys kicked the stone railing.
Siban held his finger over his lips. “She didn’t have a chance to fight.”
“Can you tell which way they took her?” Questions swirled through Rhys’s mind. His voice sounded deceptively calm but inside the beast roared for release. This time, instead of subduing the creature, Rhys promised it freedom.
Siban turned several times like a compass needle before stopping to point. “That way.”
He took the lead and guided them along the path, stopping every hundred feet to get his bearings. They left the grounds of Illuma Grand and crossed a vast meadow before heading into a thick grove of trees. Siban picked his way through the dense foliage and finally broke free of the trees. They stepped into a small clearing.
“Uh-oh,” Siban said.
Rhys and Luc stopped beside him.
“Who’s that?” Luc asked.
Hope drained from Rhys. “Brother Powell. He’s one of Icarus’s minions and the monk who tried to kidnap Ravyn.”
“Looks like he got more than he bargained for,” Luc said.
Rhys paced beside the dead monk, barely able to contain his rage and the helplessness tearing through him. Why had he let her run? Why hadn’t he gone after her? Desperation clawed at him. “Siban?”