Dragon Blood (Reclaiming the Fire Book 4) Page 2

  The tallest one threw back his hood, and long blond hair flashed in the light of the torches that burned along the sides of the room.

  “You will not touch her!” thundered the man.

  I gasped. For the man who had spoken was none other than Prince Jereth, Fae Lord and heir to the Nine Thrones himself.

  And, with that, all hell broke lose.

  Chapter Two

  As Prince Jereth and his five companions rushed the stage, the members of the congregation all around shot to their own feet. Some ripped out weapons. Some sprouted fur or fangs, hinting that many of those gathered weren’t as human as I’d thought.

  “I don’t think so,” I said.

  One hairy guy was about to lunge onto the stage and grab Prince Jereth. I didn’t even hesitate. I fired my crossbow, hitting him in the shoulder, and he went down with a howl. Another lunged for me. Davril’s blazing sword flashed out, and he fell in two pieces to the floor.

  After that it was chaos. Demons, plus shifters and humans who were their apparent allies, swarmed us as we fell back toward the stage in an effort to unite with Prince Jereth and his people. I kicked one in the knee, shot another in the chest, then struck another over the side of the head with the butt of my crossbow. One punched me in the stomach, another across my jaw. I spat blood and shot one lady with horns through the eye.

  Then we were at the stage. Prince Jereth, tall and slim and blond, with a regal cast to his face and an imperious look in his emerald green eyes, slashed left and right with his sword, spraying blood with every stroke. His men had their swords out, as well, and were using them. One of them had slung the girl who was to be the sacrificial victim over his shoulder. Another was freeing two other would-be sacrifices from their bonds; the men who had abducted them were dead.

  “Jade!” Jereth said with surprise as Davril and I reached the stage.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Prince Jereth said, skewering a demon through the heart.

  “There’s no time for this!” Davril said. “We have to get out of here.”

  “You,” said Jereth, loathing in his voice.

  “Yes, me.” Davril booted an incoming attacker in the balls, then swung his sword, disemboweling the asshole that took his place.

  “Davril’s right,” I said. “We’ve got to get out of here! There’s too many!”

  On this, at least, Jereth seemed to agree.

  “Follow me!” he said.

  He backed out to the sides, hacking and slashing with every inch, and we fell in beside him, having little choice. He might have been an enemy before this, but he was sure as hell our ally now. We moved into the backstage area of whatever crazy demonic chapel this was, then to a rear exit. Jereth seemed to know his way around, thank goodness.

  The howling mob followed us, but they had to come at us down a narrow passage now. They couldn’t encircle us like before. Me, Davril and the Fae that served Jereth took turns facing the brunt of the attack. Desperation and fury burned in their eyes, and I was impressed by their bravery. Theirs—and Jereth’s. He wasn’t who I thought he was.

  At last he led us up a flight of stairs and out the exit door. I found myself in another alleyway. Somehow I’d expected to come out in another world, or another plane. I mean, surely there weren’t demon chapels in New York City, right? But apparently there were.

  Jereth spun to the door we’d just left and flicked his hand. A crackle of power flooded outward, and the cement and brick around and over the door buckled. The whole thing caved in right on the onrushing hellspawn and their buddies, or at least the vanguard. They screamed as the bricks crushed them. When the dust rose up, silence fell, and I blinked and traded a look with Davril.

  His face was stone. “That won’t hold them for long.”

  Jereth whistled. Instantly, a dozen stags with great racks of antlers flew down from the night sky, each one shimmering with magic. Six were ridden by Fae Knights in shining armor, while six had no riders. Jereth slipped astride the largest and most handsome one, while his men slipped astride theirs. The women they’d rescued were offered the choice of being set loose here in the alley or coming with them. Each chose to ride behind one of the Fae, at least until they got clear.

  “We’ll take them to safety,” Jereth assured us.

  “You better,” I snarled.

  “What were you doing here?” Davril said. “Surely you don’t expect us to believe you were hunting demons out of the goodness of your heart?”

  Jereth sneered. “Is that so hard to believe? We were friends once, you and I.”

  “That ended when you betrayed the Queen.” Davril seemed to realize he still held his sword. With a sigh, he shoved it back into its sheath. “We will meet again,” he promised Jereth.

  “Count on it.”

  Davril whistled, just as Jereth had done, and in moments his own steed, Lady Kay, flew down from the sky and alighted on the asphalt of the alley. She looked like a 1960s muscle car of gleaming silver, only with four doors, and brilliant white wings stretched out to either side. Her top was open and Davril and I jumped in, he behind the wheel and me in the passenger seat.

  Jereth started to shout, “Ra!” to his steed, but I stopped him.

  “Wait!”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”

  “You were there to rescue these women, right?”

  “Why else would I have been there?”

  “I don’t know. I only thought it might have something to do with Nevos.”

  Jereth smiled humorlessly. “No. That is why you were there. I know what Nevos is about, and what his goal is.”

  “Wait, you do?”

  I traded another look with Davril. He seemed just as intrigued as I did.

  Before I could follow up on this line of questioning, the debris of the collapsed door exploded outward, showering us with shrapnel and dust. A huge, black-winged demon emerged, broad-shouldered and carrying a great sword. To my shock, I recognized him.

  “Lord Mortock!” I said.

  It was the same demon that Mistress Angela had raised from the dead. The same one that had chased Davril and me through Voris Cemetery.

  “YOU HAVE DISRUPTED MY CEREMONY!” he thundered. “NOW YOU DIE!”

  A fireball grew on the hand that wasn’t holding the sword. He hurled it straight at me, because I was closest. Davril’s sword flickered out and deflected the blow, sending it to erupt against a wall.

  Mortock screamed a wordless cry of hate and leapt at us.

  “Hit it!” I said.

  Davril punched the gas, and Lady Kay shot into the sky, white wings pumping. Below, Mortock slashed his sword at one of Jereth’s Fae Knights. The Fae spurred his steed, and the stag bounded forward, just out of reach.

  “Ra!” said Jereth, giving his own mount his spurs.

  It leapt into the air, and the traitorous prince’s men followed immediately after him.

  “YOU WILL DIE!” roared Mortock. Spreading his black wings, he launched himself into the air after them.

  Feeling the wind whip my hair, I craned my head to see the line of stags and stag-riders stream directly behind us.

  “Shit!” I said. “Mortock is coming for us all!”

  Davril’s jaw tightened. “Hang on.”

  My stomach lurched as he made a tight turn around a rearing building, shooting us over a major thoroughfare. Cars whizzed along below, oblivious. Beside us winked the windows of vacant offices. A fireball hissed by my head and smashed into a window, exploding brightly and sending glass and flame far out over the street. I couldn’t hear the screams but I saw the few pedestrians out this late scatter below.

  Jereth’s men drew bows and turned half-around in their saddles to shoot at Mortock. A shaft flew at his head. It struck a horn and burst into flames. Another pierced his shoulder but he didn’t seem to notice. Of course. He was an undead thing, after all.

  “Damn,” I said. “How do we beat this assho
le?”

  “I don’t know,” Davril said. “The undead fear fire. But he’s a creature of hell. The fire is natural to him.”

  Another fireball slammed through the air, straight toward Prince Jereth. He just barely yanked the reins of his stag in time, swinging it to the side, and the fireball continued on, right at Lady Kay.

  “Watch out!” I said.

  Davril jerked the wheel. The car shot upward. The fireball whizzed by below us and smashed into another vacant office building.

  Lights flashed behind us. Police riding griffons leapt off their perches and flew after Mortock. Several were trained in magic, and colorful arcs of energy flashed from the cops to Mortock.

  “YOU DARE IMPEDE MY WRATH?” said Mortock.

  He paused in the air and hurled a fireball at one griffon and its rider, striking them full on. The policeman and his mount flared like a match and dropped from the sky in ashes.

  “He just killed a cop,” I said. “Screw this.”

  I whistled.

  Chromecat, my own gorgeous ride, had been following obediently along in Lady Kay’s wake. A badass black and chrome motorcycle with raven wings, Chromecat shot in out of the darkness and came alongside Davril’s flying car.

  “I’ll take this if you don’t mind,” I said, scooping up Davril’s sword.

  “Hey, wait!”

  Ignoring him, I hopped astride Chromecat, swung her around in a tight circle at the next intersection, and hurled myself toward Lord Mortock even as he threw a fireball at a second police officer. This one escaped the blast, but it was a near thing. Mortock aimed at another, a horrid chuckle ratting up from his withered throat.

  “I don’t think so,” I said.

  I gunned the motor, raising the sword as I did. It glimmered with Fae magic, and I relished the weight of it in my palm. It felt like it could read my intentions—and approved.

  Mortock must have sensed my approach. He wheeled to face me, raising his own wicked saber.

  Too late.

  “Suck it, asshole!” I said, and swung.

  The blade chopped down through the base of his left wing, severing it from his body. He bellowed in rage and dropped from the sky. One of his claws reached out to grab Chromecat, but I angled her up and away.

  “Had a great summer, hope you have a nice fall!” I shouted.

  Flapping his one wing comically, he plummeted a long way to the pavement below, following his pitiful severed wing, and the cops, wanting vengeance, dove to pursue him.

  Laughing, I flew past the astonished Fae on their stags, then rejoined Davril. His eyes were shining, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. I rejoiced to see it. He’d been so frosty with me lately! It did me good to see him thaw, at least a little. I only hoped it could continue.

  He opened his mouth to say something, but just then Prince Jereth joined us, flying alongside me. Three abreast, we blasted by the nighttime towers of the city. Somewhat annoyed to be interrupted at a delicate moment, I turned to Jereth to see him regarding me with interest. I doubted it was romantic interest, but a certain appreciation did burn from his gorgeous emerald eyes. The wind swept his long blond hair out behind him. He hadn’t worn his purple armor to the demonic chapel but wore stylish street clothes instead under his hoodie; the contrast between his everyday attire and his wingless flying deer with its amazing rack of antlers was startling.

  “Well done, Jade McClaren,” he told me with a slight bow.

  “You’re under arrest,” Davril told him. “Come with me to the Palace and I’ll say you surrendered yourself. Your mother will go easier on you.”

  Jereth laughed. It was a pretty silver sound, but daggers glimmered in his eyes. “You make an amusing jest, my old friend.”

  The weird thing was, I thought it had been a joke. Davril’s face was hard, but there was a certain reluctant, yes, amusement in his eyes. He knew he had no power to bring Jereth in, and that Jereth would not want to go willingly.

  “Well, with that, I will see you … next time,” Jereth said.

  With another nod to me, he started to twitch the reins of his steed and rejoin his company, but I said, “No, wait!”

  “Yes, again, Jade McClaren?”

  “Just call me Jade. And what do you mean to do with those women?”

  The humor drained from his face. “Please do not insult me … Jade. We will set them down in the public place of their choosing, or simply take them home. We did come to that chapel expressly to rescue them, after all. Unlike you, who were only after your quarry.”

  I studied his face. To my surprise, I found truth there. I realized that I actually did trust him to do the right thing in regards to the kidnapped women. He may want to overthrow his mother, the Queen of the Fae, but apart from being a traitorous, matricidal scoundrel that would lead a civil war among his own people if he could, he was actually an okay guy.

  “Fine,” I said. “But just be aware that I’m going to be checking up on them.”

  “So be it. Is that all?”

  “Let’s go, Jade,” Davril said.

  “Not yet.” I looked deep into Jereth’s eyes, searching. This next part was very important, and as far as I was concerned it could be the crux of the whole matter. “And is it true what you said?” I asked softly, knowing that his supernatural hearing could pick up the words over the sound of wind and engine. “Do you really know what Nevos’s goal is?”

  Jereth appraised me, then Davril. The skyscrapers whizzed by us, and Chromecat throbbed beneath me. Slowly, Jereth said, “Yes. Yes, Jade, I have that knowledge. I do indeed know what Nevos desires, and I have some idea how he means to get it. Life in the underworld has its advantages, I suppose. You would know that better than I.”

  I waved that away. “Tell us. Tell us what Nevos is up to.”

  Jereth sniffed. “Part with valuable information for naught? I do not believe so.”

  “You’re wasting your time,” Davril told me. “Jereth is a selfish bastard. He won’t help us fight the Shadow. Hells, he’s probably rooting for Nevos and his Master.”

  Jereth narrowed his eyes. “I do not. I root for the ascendancy of the Fae, not our downfall. But I do believe that I am the only one capable of making that happen. My mother led us in defeat to this world. I would lead us in victory back to ours.”

  “Madness!” Davril said. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s a fantasy that will doom us all.”

  “Let’s not get sidetracked,” I said. I leveled my gaze at Jereth. “Just what would make you part with the information?”

  He regarded me, then glanced behind him. His Fae warriors followed, close but just out of earshot. In a low voice like that which I’d just spoken in, he leaned in toward me and said, “Forgiveness.”

  Shock washed through me. “What?”

  His eyes turned away. A strange calm befell him as he stared at the starry sky ahead. “I wish to return to my people. I wish to cease being on the run. I want to come home.”

  “Impossible,” Davril said. “You can only come home in chains.”

  A cold smile twisted Jereth’s lips. “That is not part of the bargain.”

  I blinked rapidly. “But there is a bargain? I mean, you’re serious? You’ll tell us what Nevos is up to if you can come home?”

  Slowly, he inclined his head in a nod. “That is my price. Tell Mother. I want to come home.”

  Chapter Three

  “He what?” said Queen Calista.

  Davril and I stood before her magnificent crystal throne in her massive Throne Room. Sunlight shone down on us through the crystal dome high above, and the warmth of it soaked into my skin, but I barely felt it. It was the day after the fight at the demon chapel, and all my concentration was on the situation at hand.

  “That’s what he suggested, my lady,” I said. “A quid pro quo. Uh, a tit for tat, if you don’t know Latin.” I tried to resist a snigger at tit but only partly succeeded.

  Queen Calista, tall and beautiful
, clad in a clingy sliver dress of silver scales, leaned forward, her long blond hair, the same shade as Jereth’s, swishing about her bare shoulders. “How exactly did he propose to have this … bargaining session?”

  “I tried to get him to give me an email address, but he wouldn’t have it,” I said. “But I did give him my card. He’s going to contact me this afternoon and see what our decision is.”

  “He suggested a summit,” Davril said.

  “A … summit?” Calista repeated, sounding shocked. Indeed, I had been shocked when Jereth had proposed.

  “That’s what he said,” I agreed. “He wants your higher-ups and you to come to a place of his choosing to meet with him and his people. Together you’ll hash out how exactly he and his rebels can come home.”

  Calista tapped her chin, deep in thought. A tug of sadness, or at least of wistfulness, passed across her eyes. Jereth was, after all, her only child and heir. I knew she loved him deeply, despite his betrayal. Part of her must long for him to come home, just as he longed for it.

  “A place of his choosing …” she muttered.

  “That does sound ominous,” Davril said. “I told him we would have to approve it, and that I would not allow you to be placed in a position of danger. He agreed.”

  “That, at least, is encouraging.”

  “He seemed sincere,” I said. “About wanting to, you know, be forgiven. About coming back to live here.”

  Suddenly Davril broke from his at-ease posture. Passionately, even angrily, he said, “But how can he? He led a rebellion against you, Your Majesty!”

  Dryly, she said, “I have not forgotten.”

  “He might do it again. If you allow him to get close again, he could foment unrest in the halls of your own palace, turn the noble houses against you!”

  She steepled her fingers. Darkly, she said, “Rumor has it that he has tried. Indeed, it’s possible he may have succeeded, at least in part.”

  I gasped. “What do you mean?”

  “House Bilist. One of my spies reported Lady Bilist taking a meeting with one of the renegade Fae Knights that sided with Jereth.”