SIX
Baron
The Castle in the Sky

 

I hear the sound of thundering boots behind me as I move at a fast clip with a smile on my face. Perhaps this move was pure foolishness on my part, but I could think of no other way for all of us to escape this place, other than creating a diversion. And as Cambion and Dragan are well-recognized, I was the only one who could create said diversion. No one will be looking for Baron, as he’s believed to be six feet under. Furthermore, I have stealth on my side—I can’t say the same for the ragtag group. Were we all to remain together in our attempts to flee this place, we would stand out like demons in heaven.

With regard to my comment to Dragan about the time not being right to free Morrigan… I was bluffing.

Truth be told, I don’t like the thought of risking our asses for the Midnight Queen. If she’s truly been taken prisoner by Variant, then she wasn’t the all-powerful being we believed her to be. And that means we don’t need her. If, however, she isn’t at the behest of Variant, then attempting to free her would prove to be a wasted venture and one we can ill afford.

With regards to the message from Pyre’s spirits, I don’t put stock in Dragan’s belief he heard voices. Yes, yes, I quoted to him the message that shadows could not be imprisoned. Then how could I not believe in the voices when I heard the message? The truth of the matter is that I had simply been eavesdropping in Dragan’s mind—an enterprise not wholly difficult as the gargoyle was projecting his emotions as though they were words on a page. I just simply opted to read a line or two.

No, I hadn’t actually heard anything from Pyre’s spirits. Furthermore, I’m of the belief that since Pyre marked me with his sigil, and not Dragan, were they real, the spirits would have reached out to me, not to him.

Returning to the subject of Morrigan, I must confess I am quite underwhelmed by the notion of trying to make contact with her. Perhaps I’m merely bitter, but I believe she could have attempted to resuscitate me after I was stabbed by Variant, but she didn’t. As I understand from my spotty memories, Morrigan did nothing to resurrect me during, nor after my untimely death. Instead, she waited one hundred years to bring me be back, depositing me in a rough and ugly world of which I had no understanding. Morrigan had awakened me, had called on me to do her bidding. But that was merely the extent of her instruction and I was forthwith left to my own defenses.

And for what? To protect an angel-demon crossbreed?

“You roused me from the grave, then left me to my own defenses all this time,” I accuse her.

“You must understand the time wasn’t right, my Revenant,” Morrigan responds.

“Then the time is right now?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Then what is my purpose? What was the reason you brought me back from death?” I ask.

“You must protect the angel,” she responds. “She is not what you think she is. She’s the answer to unseating Variant and returning the balance to the realms.”

It was only the second time, in the course of my second life, that Morrigan spoke to me.

I shake off the memories because they cause me distress.

The sacred leader of the realms can keel over and die for all I care.

I never asked to be reborn to this fucked up world and Morrigan has been anything but nurturing. Damn her and her fucking bidding. I will protect Eilish simply because I care for her. She’s as lost as I am, and no one understands her the way I do.

That, and I must admit, at least to myself, that the blood in her veins is like a drug—the most addictive aphrodisiac. And yes, I can think of far worse things to do than feel my cock pushing into her slick passage. I will protect her because I choose to protect her. Not because the Midnight Fucking Queen demands it of me.

In my opinion, there are too many players on a board that’s ready to implode on itself.

Yet here I am, once again placing myself in direct danger so the others can live to fight another day. Who would have thought I had such a big heart?

I look over my shoulder and curse when I see the multitude of soldiers gaining on me. My zombie soldiers will only be able to protect me for so long. And without my potions and with my decreased strength, this little coup d'état won’t last long.

I move faster, tapping into what little power still remains in me from Eilish’s blood. I need to drink her again—her blood provides a form of unequaled sustenance.

I make my way through the palace and end up in the kitchen—a place for which I’m wholly unprepared as vampires and culinary locations are not close bedfellows.

There must be a servant’s entrance nearby? I ask myself.

I scan the room, in search of a way out, but find something even better—bottles, flasks, and vials of random liquids and powders. I quickly read off the titles of some of them: Potion of Healing, Vetter’s Acid, Sprig of Mandrake, Holy Water, Lich Oil... There are enough chemicals here to create a nice little explosion to aid me in my escape.

Gripping the Vetter’s Acid, the Holy Water and the Lich Oil, I grab a nearby wooden dish and dump the contents of each vial into the bowl. Instantly, the chemicals begin to fight one another and the result is a purplish mist that would choke the breath from me if I possessed a respiratory system.

I turn the oven on as high as possible—heat will be central to the success of this concoction. Then I tear the curtains from the barred windows and douse them in the bowl before shoving them into the stove. The smell is quite atrocious.

The sound of boots reaches my ears once again. I have little time. And, damn me, but the oven certainly takes its time heating. As time is a luxury I can ill afford, I focus on the white cotton fabric of the curtains. Then I summon my shadows, hoping I still have enough strength left to work my magic.

“Burning hands,” I whisper.

I glance down to see my fingers alight with flames. I simply reach over to the curtain and touch it. It ignites instantly in flames of blue and white. I dampen my magic, watching as the fire consuming my fingers recedes into the white of my flesh.

I crouch down in the corner of the room as the flames of the curtains dance forth, their tendrils of fire searching the wall and the ceiling. I hold my hands up, towards the fire, and move my fingers across the air in front of my face. The flames respond by moving in the same direction. It won’t be long now.

By the time Variant’s forces enter the kitchen, the fire is in full rage, consuming the entire wall and fanning out across the hallway to a row of cabinets. The men are momentarily stunned but then immediately begin coughing and sputtering, owing to the noxious fumes that are both blinding and confusing.

With a smile, I turn for the door that leads away from the kitchen. I take a sharp left and find the servant’s quarters, slipping through the door unseen. I open the door leading away from the servant’s area and stand still, attempting to discern the magical wards that are no doubt in attendance, but I feel nothing.

I open the door and glance through the newly darkening dusk sky and to the armed soldiers standing between me and certain escape. I wrap myself in shadows and using the expert speed of my race, I catch them unaware, ending their lives before they even realize their lives were threatened.

Aside from an accidental stab wound to my upper arm, owing to an overshot on my part, I am quite pleased with myself. I hurry towards the rear of the palace, hoping the rest of my motley crew has been able to make their own escape.

When I turn the corner of the building, being careful to stick to the shadows, I see a reflection of satiny material.

Eilish.

She stands beside the stone of a garden shed, hidden by the shadows of the night. And I see the others just behind her. As I watch, Dragan reaches a protective arm around her middle and pulls her into him, reprimanding her about being too visible. He doesn’t drop his arm but presses her against him.

Anger burns in my stomach and I’m momentarily surprised by my reaction. Ordinarily, I am not a jealous man. Perhaps this jealousy is owing to the fact that I’m willing to share Eilish, but Dragan is not.

Bad deal for him because he’ll have to share her. I’m a man accustomed to getting what he wants, and I am far from finished with Eilish. If he wants her, and she wants him, he will have to come to terms with the fact that she also belongs to me.

I make my move and join them behind the shed. Eilish sees me immediately and her face lights up with a broad smile. She separates herself from Dragan, much to his irritation, and comes right for me. I catch her in my arms and lift her, twirling her around in a circle just to piss Dragan off more than he already is.

“You’re bleeding?” Eilish whispers when she pulls away from me and glances down at the blood staining the naked skin of her collarbone.

“Minor mishap,” I assure her.

She giggles and the sound causes Dragan’s jaw to tighten. Good. Bastard gargoyle.

“Where to now?” Cambion asks as he appears from the dark shadows.

“There’s a portal in the forest that will take us out of the clouds and back to the Fae realm,” Dragan responds.

“The forest?” Cambion repeats, doubt lacing his tone.

“The forest,” Dragan responds.

“Have you forgotten what’s in the Forest in the Clouds?” Cambion asks.

Dragan turns to face him with an angry expression, no doubt exacerbated by the fact that Eilish hasn’t left my side since I returned. “Of course, I haven’t forgotten,” he responds.

“Then you’d realize what you’re proposing is pure idiocy,” Cambion continues.

“Returning to that palace is pure idiocy,” Dragan argues. “Or trying our luck against the Possession Runes is pure idiocy. At least we have a chance in the forest.”

“The forest it is,” I say as I watch Eilish swallow hard.

Dragan says nothing but assumes the role of leader and our ragtag group moves from the cover of the shed to the cover of the forest just bordering the palace.

 

###
Cambion

The Forest in the Sky

 

We slept for four days in those cells. Lost time we will never regain. The guilt of Raflamir’s disloyalty rests heavily on my shoulders. I know they blame me. They aren’t exactly subtle—I can see the truth in their eyes. And it’s a truth that shames me to the depths of my being. Raflamir will pay for his treachery. He will pay for making a mockery of me.

My gaze shifts to Eilish. I wonder what favors she performed in the privacy of Variant’s chambers that persuaded the false king to keep her alive. Not only alive but it appeared he’d become quite fond of her during the short time of their association. Her shimmering gown is proof enough. Yes, there must be a reason. Perhaps she willingly spread her legs for him, whispering sweet lies to stroke his ego.

Variant has had his choice of women for as long as I can remember, and a good fuck was never capable of winning him over. Could it be that sex with the demoness is beyond good? It must be! If I’m to take Baron and Dragan as examples, the two of them are clearly blindsided by the Succubus.

I will never allow myself to fall under her spell. I know the treachery that lies in the heart of the Succubae.

She is no different.

My thoughts return to the same subject that has been haunting me ever since we were captured—Theren, my brother.

Aima’s arrival at Raflamir’s home only confirmed my suspicions that Theren played a starring role in our betrayal. I would not be surprised if Raflamir reported to Theren that we were housed under his roof and Theren sent Aima to gather proof. Then, once he had that proof, Theren reported us to Variant, who then ordered his soldiers to attack and take us prisoner.

Aima…

I’ve known Aima most my life, but she seems quite different from the woman I once loved. She was soft and passive then, a scholar more than a fighter, but she knew how to defend herself. Now, it’s as if that person no longer exists. And, yet, I saw glimpses of the sweet, young woman I had known all those years ago before my brother turned her into the person she is today.

I have to admit I found myself staring at Aima more than I was comfortable. When she appeared at Raflamir’s door, I was wholly taken aback and once the surprise settled, I was overcome with old and raw feelings and memories. I had cared for her once. I had loved her.

Perhaps Aima still has some sort of hold over me? A hold that protects me from Eilish’s seduction? It’s obvious that both Dragan and Baron, men who have never truly loved before, struggle much harder than I when it comes to resisting Eilish’s feminine wiles.

But Aima is not mine and she never was. I loved her, yes, but she never returned the feelings. She loved Theren, instead.

The years have lessened the pain. It is a beautiful truth about time—it does help to heal wounds. And the affection I once felt for Aima has certainly lessened as well.

My eyes stray to Eilish once more. I feel the beat of my heart quickening when she glances my way. The sway of her hips is tantalizing, hypnotizing in the way she strolls through the tall grass.

We walk among the rolling amber hills as the sun continues its descent beyond the mountains in the distance. Soon we will find ourselves in survival mode as the abominations of this forest take notice of us.

Eilish stumbles, jostling me out of my thoughts, and I reach out to catch her. Once my hand touches her arm, I see a flash of white and a vision of Variant being thrown across the floor. Shocked, I jump away from her and she faces me with wide eyes.

“What did you see?” she asks, fear in her expression.

“Nothing,” I say, not in the mood to discuss anything with her. Instead, I prefer to avoid her wherever possible.

I don’t allow her time to argue. Instead, I hurry past her and move in time with Dragan. “There’s nowhere to hide,” I say, motioning to the endless trees that surround us.

“We must keep moving,” he answers. “How is your magic?”

He already knows the answer to the question. My magic isn’t what it usually is, owing to the fact of having little sleep and even less food over the last few days. “I’m weak, just the same as you,” I answer.

He nods and we grow quiet, each of us scanning the trees before and alongside us. The trees of this forest are enormous, gnarled oaks covered in lichen and moss. A musty aroma wafts through the air as we wander deeper into the forest. Thick, untamed underbrush covers the ground.

“Where be them ugly ass creatures you was warnin’ us about?” the sprite asks as it appears directly beside Dragan’s head.

“They’re out there,” Dragan responds. He’s right. The creatures of this forest already have us in their sight.

“We must stay together and not for any reason follow the sound of water,” I say as I look at the sprite, then turn to address Eilish and Baron. The two of them walk so closely together, they almost appear as conjoined twins.

“Why?” Eilish asks.

“This forest is infamous, not only owing to the abominations that dwell here, but also due to its bewitching powers. The trees make the sound of rippling water to lure travelers to a place called the Harrowing.”

“The Harrowin’?” the sprite repeats and gulps down his fear.

“Yes,” I respond. “Anyone who ventures there gets eaten.”

“Eaten by what?” Eilish asks.

“The forest,” I answer. “The trees grow large and strong due to the constant nourishment.”

“The nourishment of what?” Eilish continues.

“The abominations will take your flesh and blood, but the forest takes your soul,” Dragan responds.

“Very little in the realms is more sustaining than the soul,” I add.

Eilish’s scent swirls around me with each step I take, and I force myself to start breathing through my mouth. I don’t want to smell her. I don’t want to look at her. I don’t want to think about ramming my…

The forest is hot and murky. Fog hovers above the ground where thick roots spread across the sodden earth beneath our feet. My boots squelch on the moss. I hear the sound of footsteps picking up behind me and moments later, Eilish grasps my shoulder to steady herself.

“These abominations you mentioned,” she starts but I can’t say my attention is on her words. Instead, another vision grips me and won’t let go.

I see Eilish sitting in a chair, watching as Variant thrusts into Anona. The pleasure I see on the demon’s face is revolting, and the look in Eilish’s eyes is anything but blissful. Tears stream down her cheeks as her hand caresses the flesh between her thighs. As I watch, I realize Variant is forcing her to touch herself, just as he forces her to watch him fuck Anona. And then… then he does the unthinkable. He reaches out and pulls a blade from beneath a pillow, and severs Anona’s throat.

Just as quickly as the vision attacks, it fades away.

“Cambion?” Eilish says and then looks up at me in question.

“Sorry… what?”

She studies me for a moment or two and then repeats her question. It takes everything within me to focus on her words. “What are the types of creatures in this forest?”

“Oh, um,” I start but the words fade away. “There are…”

“Cambion? Is something wrong?” she asks.

“No, I just… my mind is elsewhere.” I clear my throat and then look down at those wide blue eyes of hers and I can’t control myself as the words leave my mouth. “Did he…” I clear my throat again. “Did Variant force you to watch…”

She flushes violently and then takes a deep breath. She doesn’t respond but drops back to join Baron, meeting his strides yet again. I’ve upset her—that much is obvious. But she’s managed to answer my question, all the same. There was no denial in her expression. Something happened in Variant’s bedchamber and Eilish is ashamed of it. I suddenly hanker to talk to her, but now is not the time.

Why the fuck do I even care? I rage inwardly. Who gives a shit if she watched Variant fuck Anona!

I try to tell myself that my interest is purely owing to curiosity. Then why do I feel strangely protective towards Eilish? Why do I feel a flare of compassion spreading through my chest?

I watch as Baron and Eilish stare at each other, their expressions unreadable. Baron is the one who looks away.

“The time has come,” he announces, even though no one seems to understand what the fuck he’s going on about.

“What?” Dragan asks, sounding extra perturbed. It’s the tone he’s adopted where Baron is concerned and has everything to do with his jealousy, I’m convinced.

“The time for what?” I ask.

Baron doesn’t respond other than to push his sleeve up, revealing the glowing red sigil on his forearm. He then digs his fingernails into his skin, before smearing the blood over the sigil where Pyre marked him. Baron’s eyes go white, appearing just like Pyre’s. The voice that echoes in our ears isn’t Baron’s.

“You managed to escape,” says the disembodied voice. “I was beginning to think I would have to stage an extravagant rescue.”

“We’ve evaded the soldiers, but it won’t be long until Variant’s men hunt us down,” I respond with little amusement. I’m not in the mood for mockery from a disembodied spirit.

“They won’t follow us into this forest,” Dragan says.

“You have my protection in this woodland. Set up camp for the night,” Pyre continues, speaking through Baron. “I will find you.”