The Time King

Life.

  Son of a bitch, he thought. That was it.

  As he floated on the outskirts of the dimension, he realized that’s what he’d done wrong before. He hadn’t taken from her that which flowed through her veins and fed the beating of her heart. He hadn’t taken her life – he hadn’t taken her blood.

  Hence she had never become a part of him, not fully. She had never actually joined with him in a way that could physically fill up that space.

  Of course, it wouldn’t have occurred to him that this was what he needed, not in any of his other forms. They’d all been human, more or less. Humans didn’t generally think about ingesting other people’s blood. But Cain thought of it now.

  He watched as the dimension he’d been sequestered in by Time, and the one he’d been born into by Fate, collided on the battlefield of the multiverse. They became one. And so did he.

  Julian Cain was Death. He always had been. He always would be. But now he was also the First Vampire, and though Time had shoved him, Helena, and William into that other world in order to give William a chance to win Helena for himself, how quaint, it had made a fatal mistake. It had given Cain a form in which taking blood came naturally. And so did thinking about it. Which was why he thought of it now.

  Perhaps Time hadn’t done this on purpose. Perhaps Cain’s emptiness was so strong, his need so vast, it was that alone that had chosen his form in the other dimension, and Time had nothing to do with it. That made more sense. After all, why would Time give him a fair shot at Helena? Time played favorites. There was no arguing that. And William was most assuredly its favorite.

  Either way, Cain was at a distinct advantage now as a vampire.

  At the moment, his form floated free in the emptiness between dimensions. That emptiness was changing with the colliding of the worlds. Paranormal energy filled the normally void darkness. He knew what was coming. He knew the process would be painful. But Cain was no stranger to pain.

  Darryl Maelstrom’s mark still held fast on William Solan’s arm. The spell still existed, and Cain was assuming Darryl Maelstrom still existed somewhere out there too. When Cain entered the older Slate cousin and attempted to use him to get to Helena, William had pulled an ace out of his sleeve. Cain had to hand it to the bastard. He hadn’t been expecting him to do what he’d done.

  William dissolved into an immaterial form of pure power and shot into his cousin’s body with violent speed. Fortunately, that damned brand meant to work against Cain wound up saving him instead. It ejected him from William’s form in the nick of time. The Time King had been about to blow out his own brains in order to do away with Cain. Not that he could blame him. It had been a rough several thousand years. Any man’s patience would have worn well out by now. Cain’s sure as fuck had.

  After he was ejected, he’d felt like he was being ripped apart. His immaterial presence was torn from William and thrown violently into the emptiness between worlds. And that was where he was now, floating in a miasma of electric nothing that was less and less like nothing with each passing second. It gave him time to think. Time to figure things out.

  Time to realize what he needed from the Promised One.

  It didn’t last long though, thank goodness. Only a short while passed before he felt the other half of him still trapped in the Storyteller’s prison. It was a slightly separate form, but not quite separate enough not to feel the pain.

  Just as violently as he’d been ripped away from William and discarded in the emptiness, his other half was torn from the prison and tossed out as well. Cain would have cried out, but he had no lungs to cry out with.

  He suffered the ordeal in silence. The crazy thing was, as he quietly agonized he was reminded of that one episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer called “Hush.” He’d watched it solely because of its name, but in point of fact he’d found it brilliant. What was worse than being murdered in some gruesome manner? Not being able to make a sound while it was happening.

  Now he knew that was true.

  Except he wasn’t being murdered. He wasn’t dying. The opposite was occurring, actually. He was being born.

  The two halves of his being were drawn together through that space between with something close to light speed, and when they crashed into one another, Cain felt the impact down to his very first incarnation. It rippled through him, changing every one of his pasts, altering every event in history that he’d ever had a hand in.

  The shockwave shook dimensions. The worlds within them would never know that he’d been the reason for their earthquakes and tornadoes. Hell, he barely knew it himself. What he did know was that moments after the collision, he was hitting the ground and rolling.

  When he came to a stop, Cain remained where he was on his side, his eyes closed. He felt the grass beneath his skin, cool and sharp and itchy. He smelled the dirt, still moist from the rain. He heard distant sounds of traffic, perhaps half a mile or more away.

  He also heard talking. Not nearly as distant. And very, very familiar.

  He felt his eyes burning hot and blue behind his eyelids, which meant he once more had eyelids. He was solid. Cain opened his burning eyes and slowly pushed himself into a seated position to look around.

  It was night. The moon, full and illuminating, was yet low on the horizon. It would be many hours before the sun shone again.

  He got to his booted feet. Once standing, he looked down to take in the appearance of his solid form: Black engineering boots, worn and tough. Tight blue jeans. Gray T-shirt, solid muscle underneath. Cain ran his hand through his hair and yanked one of them out to turn it between his thumb and forefinger. Blond.

  He had maintained the form he’d been given as First Vampire. A brush of his tongue over his gums and the sharp tips of the fangs waiting to sprout just beneath them confirmed it. Cain’s lips curled in a mirthless smile. It was hard for him to feel any real joy. All of his smiles were mirthless. But it didn’t mean he wasn’t pleased with the circumstances. Especially when he cocked his head slightly to the side, tuned his vampire hearing into the night, and honed in on the voices he’d heard earlier.

  He heard them again and separated them out in his mind. They were familiar indeed.

  And they were just around the corner.

  Chapter Forty-six

  Blood. That was what it took.

  He realized it the moment she reminded him that Time ran through his veins. That was all she needed! She needed his blood to run through her veins as well!

  All this time, it wasn’t Helena who had needed to choose him. It was William who’d needed to choose her. It was Time that needed to do so. And William needed to realize that it already had. Long ago. All that was left was one small, precious thing.

  Somewhere in the recesses of his consciousness, Time exhaled as if it had been waiting to do so for a very many years. If Time had been a living person in front of William, he would have punched it. Instead, he mentally shook his head and cupped Helena’s face.

  “I know how.”

  He lifted her arm, the one that still possessed the mark from Darryl Maelstrom’s spell. “If only we’d done this in the opposite order – me first and you second – the job would be finished already,” he said in a mystified tone, thinking aloud. It would take only one tiny drop of his blood to get the job done. Time could not be burned or destroyed, despite the adage that people tended to kill it. The fire would have done nothing to William’s magic where it coated Darryl’s metal brand. If he’d used the hot iron on his own arm first and then she’d used it on hers, she would have inadvertently infused her blood with that same magic.

  It would have found its way into her veins. She would be Time Queen by now.

  “Helena, you need my blood,” he told her frankly and with barely contained excitement.

  Helena’s brow furrowed. “What?”

  “It’s so simple,” he said, bewildered that he was only reaching the conclusion now.

  Helena blinked and shook her head. “It can’t be.”

>   But he held her arm and took her hand in his. “You tried to use your powers to stop time in Lapis. But you couldn’t, could you?”

  She swallowed hard, turning her eyes away from his. After a few seconds, she said, “No.”

  The word was dark, as if it had been dipped in ink and now dripped of something like quiet guilt and resentment. But he knew the resentment wasn’t because she blamed him for taking away her power. It was because she hadn’t been able to stop him when she’d needed to most. She’d been powerless when he’d been on the verge of taking his own life.

  William understood that. Though Helena might not yet recall that she’d ended her own life countless miserable times, he sure as hell did. More importantly – no most importantly – he understood why. He comprehended both sides now. They were equally desperate, and equally helpless. But while he’d only pleaded for her life out of a despairing selfishness to keep her, Helena had taken her own life in a selfless sacrifice for others.

  And now William understood the decision from every painful angle, including the one Helena was feeling right now. Now it was her turn to feel the selfish desperation… and he loved her all the more for it.

  So he gave her a gentle squeeze to bring her beautiful eyes back to his.

  “When we made love,” he told her, “I took your power to influence time. But you can take it back from me, Helena.” He lifted her hand and tenderly laid a kiss upon it. When he lowered it again, he said, “After all, it was meant to be yours.”

  Helena closed her eyes, still partly refusing to look at him. This was overwhelming to her, he knew. He was asking everything of her. He was demanding immortality. Only someone as old as he was could comprehend what that meant. And there was no one as old as he was. Hence only William understood.

  But they were on the brink now, so close to ending this terrible game. All of this pain, all of this waiting and hurting and loneliness could be over. Right here and now.

  William reached out and gently brushed his fingers along her neck until his hand was wrapped around her throat. He used his thumb to tilt her head back up. “Look at me, Helena,” he commanded softly. Despite his tender tone, he allowed his power to lace his words.

  He wasn’t surprised when he felt her fight him. She was growing stronger, and he had never met a more stubborn woman. But he pushed harder with that magic, and her eyes flew open. They were as ever a vibrant and deep purple-red.

  “Time wants a queen, Helena,” he told her. He smiled. “The queen is the one with all the strength on the playing field.” He brushed his thumb along her jawline. “Time wants you.”

  “Time isn’t the only one.”

  William shoved Helena behind him so fast, the movement was like a thought rather than a physical action. One moment, he was standing over her, mentally begging her to make the right decision, and the next he was standing between her and Death.

  “Cain,” he greeted coldly. “In one piece, I see.”

  “Ditto,” said Cain with just as much ice. “But that can be remedied.”

  He stood between two copses of trees on the outskirts of the field, around twenty feet from William and Helena. This was the first time William had seen him, in actuality. He’d heard him plenty, and he’d unfortunately felt him too, when the bastard had been playing maestro in his mind. But he’d had no concept of the physical man behind the malice until now.

  He was very tall. Despite taking a seat at the Table of the Thirteen, it was rare for a man to match William’s in height. But Cain was an easy six and a half feet, and it was solid muscle. Broad shouldered, blond haired, blue eyed, dressed for a fight.

  William assessed the situation with the skills of a warden. They were abilities he’d always possessed; Time had simply placed them well in the alternate dimension. And at the moment, William was noticing and summarizing several things at once.

  Cain’s fangs were out. They were ever so slightly visible above the man’s bottom lip. Which meant three things. One, he was still a vampire, and not just any vampire but the First Vampire, the first born of two vampire brothers, Cain and Abel.

  Two, more of the second dimension had made it into the first than William had realized. Even a Nomad had been changed. That was frankly incredible. It also meant that Cain might believe William was still as “mortal” as he’d been when he was nothing more than a warden. That would be a good thing. It would give William an edge in battle if he were underestimated.

  And three, it also meant Cain fully intended to stick those fangs into William’s mate.

  William couldn’t blame him. Who wouldn’t want to bite into Helena? She was warm and good, and her blood probably tasted like every blissful dream a person had ever had.

  Cain’s goal was clear. He was going to have his cake and eat it too. Even if he had to eat William first to get to it.

  William’s gaze narrowed. His eyes flashed. The thought had given him the un-hatched egg of an idea, and that egg swam around with the other ideas in his head as he took in more details.

  They were the same height and build, so they’d be approximately the same strength.

  Normally.

  But Cain was a vampire now. That would make him infinitely stronger.

  Then again, William seemed to have some if not all of his powers again. He’d managed to use them to prevent Helena from taking any damage when they landed in the field. To test his theory, William attempted to bring the newly forming world to a halt then and there.

  He failed.

  Things were not yet back to normal. Either that, or his powers against Cain were as useless as they had always been, and things were back to normal, at least in that regard.

  Cain’s blue eyes flashed just like William’s, and he shook his handsome head in admonishment. He knew exactly what William had just tried to do.

  William thought fast. “You haven’t learned what happens when you force this issue, Cain?” He was stalling for time. That damn idea was right there, nudging at his consciousness.

  But Cain smiled a thoroughly knowing smile. “I’ll get to her long before she can do anything rash,” he said calmly. “I’m a vampire now, remember?” he teased. He knew full well William remembered. There were the fucking fangs, for one.

  And then the idea was there, fully hatched and at the forefront of his thoughts. William blinked and straightened. … Even if he had to eat William first….

  He would go through me. He would absolutely go through me to get to her.

  In its place of watching and waiting, Time laughed with glee.

  William lowered his head and allowed his green gaze to fully alight, heating up his vision. “You can try asshole,” he said, doing his best to lend the most acidic mocking to his tone. “But you and I both know you’re set up to fail.”

  Come on, come on….

  “She doesn’t love you. She never has, and she never will,” he continued. “You’ve been duped into a losing game, Cain. And when you play into it yet again and leave her no choice again, you’ll only back yourself into another corner.”

  It was working. Cain had gone very, very still. Apparently he didn’t like being mocked. People in a lot of pain tended to hate that. Plus, William hadn’t until then appreciated how fundamentally easy it was to bait a man who had nothing to lose.

  “You will both die,” he continued matter-of-factly. “Miserable and alone. Just like every death you’ve ever known. And this is just going to keep on going. Forever.” William was brutal. He was cruel. He’d always possessed that potential.

  Cain’s blue eyes sparked red. It was actually a little unnerving. But it meant he was on the right track.

  William lifted his chin for the final ruthless blow. “You were fucked over by Fate, Cain. You’ll never kill me, you know that.” He smiled an arrogant smile. “You said it yourself. I can’t be killed. You don’t scare me, Cain.” He shook his head and laughed, and it was heartless. “I just can’t fear you.”

  Silence. Fury.

  ?
??But boy do I pity you.”

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Helena’s eyes went very wide at William’s last words. She couldn’t believe he’d actually said them. In fact, she’d stood there behind him, still stunned at how fast he’d moved her, and grown more and more sick with each phrase he muttered. It was like he was trying to piss Cain off. And Cain didn’t need any more pissing off!

  But then she felt him take her hand, and she glanced down. He squeezed twice gently and in quick succession. It reminded her of the beating of a heart.

  And just like that, her head snapped back up and she realized what William was doing. This was it. There was no time left to decide. There would be no more foot dragging. This was her one and only chance to end the game once and for all and this time – this time – come out ahead.

  It was literally now or never.

  Cain waited a beat, a tense filled-with-malice beat that she could feel abrade her skin like electric sandpaper. And then he attacked.

  Despite the speed with which William had moved her behind him earlier, Cain was faster. That became clear when he appeared to blink out of one place on the field and reappear in front of William and the two collided in battle. William had been expecting it, of course. This was part of the plan.

  Some plan, she thought in mounting panic as she scrambled to get out of the way. Out of curiosity again, she tried to stop time. She failed. But then she’d known she would. This really was the only way to get the job done.

  William and Cain appeared to be locked in a choreographed combat. Nearly every punch was deflected, almost every kick blocked. The few blows either man managed to land sent his opponent flying. At one point, Cain crashed into a nearby tree, uprooting it. He came back hard, and a second later, William hit the roof of Helena’s car, shattering the windshield and denting the hood.

  Again they met one another in a one-on-one crusade, until it at last appeared that William was tiring. Helena swallowed hard and nearly choked. Her throat was closing up in fear. No matter how hard she tried to prepare herself for this, she knew she wouldn’t be ready. So she just watched in jagged silence as the two wound up on their knees and the man she loved –