Destiny Divided (20 page)

Cold memories flooded James when he looked at the old stone church in front of him. He couldn’t hold back a shudder. Though the building l
ooked much different than it had more than a century and a half ago, there was no mistaking the doorway to the Underworld. He could sense the change in atmosphere. It felt like a cold ripple under his skin.

Fucking hell.
He couldn’t believe he’d come back to this place. But Sage was stuck in a plane halfway to hell and he was her only hope for survival.

He
pushed aside the vines that grew along the stone wall. His memory took him back to the last time he’d done that very same thing.

It had been mid-afte
rnoon in springtime and he’d been sweating under the canvas armor wore. An average-sized man with short blond hair and suntanned skin stepped ahead of him and held his hand out toward the door. A bright smile lit up his face. Why the dragon was happy to send an army of zealous soldiers into the Underworld – which he was supposed to be protecting – was beyond him. But he was thankful the dragon could be bought with gold.

His s
oldiers were nervous. He couldn’t blame them. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end too. It was a warning they all ignored. But since he was their leader, he had to go first. So he took the first brave step across the threshold, his loyal army on his heels. It was that step that led to his eternal transformation.

And now, here he stood,
willingly,
in front of the portal to do it all again. He hadn’t needed directions to the place even though it had been so long ago. This part of the country had changed little since the eighteen hundreds. And since he’d been through the gateway once, he didn’t need the dragon to open it again. It also meant he could see the door, which was invisible to nearly everyone else. It was subtle – just a shimmer against the side of the church building. A haze like you would see on a very hot day. All he had to do was walk through it. So why did he hesitate?

Sage is there
, he reminded himself. Probably locked in a cell somewhere, terrified and alone. Or worse, surrounded by horrifying creatures, guarding her. Maybe worse than guarding her. Or maybe she was already dead.

The chilling thoughts were enough to push his feet forward through the energy-charged doorway. He knew he was one step closer to hell when the temperature rose at least ten degrees with that single step. Though the scenery didn’t change much from the Northern Wales location of the entrance, the overall feeli
ng of the Underworld was…death.

Briefly, he
assessed his surroundings, sensing for nearby threats. Too much in a hurry to spend long worrying about, he took off toward Cadmael’s castle. He felt nothing in particular but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

He ran at full speed, pushing his body hard.
It didn’t take long to realize he shouldn’t fed first, but it was too late for regrets. About halfway across the desolate terrain, he intercepted Sage’s scent.

He stopped mid-stride and froze, relishing the fragrance. Even in the darkest parts of the world
, she still smelled like fresh rain. He breathed it in and pictured pulling her into his body, safe and secure. The first thing he would do when he found her was take her off-plane and deliver her to Maddox to keep safe –somewhere she couldn’t get away, even if it meant chaining her to a bed.

Then he would come back and finish the Dark King.

The sudden image of Sage tied-up naked on a bed –
his
bed – flashed in his mind. When he found it only made him run faster, he welcomed it.

***

Marcelo escorted Sage into a stone dining chamber that had the same medieval feel as the front hall. Dozens of men filled the hall, drinking and talking, some growling and grunting. It hit her hard just how much shit she was in. Her knees started to quake.

Were they
there purely for entertainment or were they awaiting her defeat of Cadmael, like Marcelo was? She bit her lip and choked back her nerves.

M
arcelo pulled her roughly by the upper arm, partly to stay in character and partly because she was sort of dragging her feet. Cadmael sat at the head of a long banquet table, looking eager to drain her. The sight angered her more than she’d expected. Talk about daddy issues. Fucking nutcase.

“Daughter.” H
e nodded toward her in a gesture of greeting.

“Evil father,” she retorted.

Even with her life in the balance, she still found time to be snarky. James would have sighed and rolled his eyes. Would she kiss him again if she knew it would be the last time? The thought brought a smile to her lips, despite the march toward her doom.

Marcelo pulled her up the three steps leading t
o the platform where Cadmael stood behind a thick wood table. She looked around the room and studied the faces staring up at her – the faces that made up the Underworld, which people both hated and feared. What would happen to them if she succeeded in killing the Dark King?

T
he cold feel of Cadmael's hand on her skin pulled her attention to him.

“Come now.” He tugged her forward as she gave Marcelo a last fleeting glance. “Let's do this quickly. I won't drag it o
ut.” He faced the crowd and declared, “This is my sole heir, and as you can see, she will
not
be overthrowing my rule. I know some of you had hoped the foretelling would be true, but you will see tonight, I will not be overtaken so easily.”

So he knew there was
discord. Interesting. While he gave his speech, she busied herself breaking the handcuffs behind her back then gathered light into her free fists.

Cadmael grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him. His fangs lengthened as he
leaned in towards her neck. Did he really think she wouldn’t fight?
Why
did everyone always underestimate her?

She swung a right
hook with her glowing fist into his jaw. He howled and staggered back, blood seeping through his long fangs. But his counterattack was swift and he knocked her backward into the wall. The crack on her skull against the stone made her feel like vomiting.

She groaned
as she slumped to the floor. Two men grabbed each of her arms and dragged her back to Cadmael. He gestured for them to hold her down on the table.

Though she kicked and writhed,
even with her extra strength she was no match for the werewolves.

Cadmael
’s usually merry demeanor seemed rushed. “I thought we might be able to do this the easy way, daughter, but I suppose not.”

Marcelo stepped into view. He nodded to t
he men holding her and said something in another language. With a confused glance at each other, they both let her go and backed away.

Cadmael
blinked. “Marcelo, what is this?”

“We will take no part in this,” he answered evenly.
“It is between you and your daughter. She has a right to try for the throne.”

He peered around the room, his eyes wide. Then that familiar smirk crept onto his lips
. “You would recognize her as your leader should she beat me?”

They rumble
d softly to one another.

Marcelo
spoke for them. “Aye. We would.”

Cadmael laughed out loud
. Her father had a truly fucked up sense of humor. “I won’t keep you in suspense then.”

He shoved one large hand onto her chest
and pressed down with inhuman strength. His eyes went blank – no twinkle of amusement like before. He meant to kill.

She raked her nails down his arm, drawing b
lood, which he ignored. Her lungs burned then her sternum cracked. She exhaled a sob.

His
lips curled into a sinister smile. When she kicked out at him, he dodged her. Her energy drained from her writhing body as she stared up at the domed ceiling. Droplets of water splashed onto the glass in a slow drizzle.

She
was dying, slowly, torturously.

Have to fight.

Black spots dotted her vision. The rain fell harder – it sounded like marbles against the roof.

Get up, Sage.

The downpour mimicked her own drowning so perfectly, her mouth curled into a delirious smile.

Don’t die on me, cariad
.
James’ voice entered her head. Hallucinating him wasn’t such a bad way to go out, she supposed. Her eyes fluttered closed as her mind sought the blissful peace of sleep.

Fight, damn it!

With a sudden burst of strength, she extended her fangs and sunk them deep into Cadmael’s arm. He recoiled, taking the pressure off her chest. She gasped, heaving in a lungful of air while keeping her fangs imbedded in his skin. That was as far as she’d gotten in her plan.

Cadmael chuckled darkly
. It was not the reaction she was hoping for. A hand clamped onto her cheeks and pulled her fangs from his skin. He held her in place with claws digging into her flesh and looked out into the crowd.

“I see someone has betrayed me.” He bent down to look in her eyes. “Do you really think a measly pair of fangs is enough to kill me? They’re not even full size.”

With a little shove, he released her then sauntered away as if he hadn’t a care in the world – as if there weren’t a vampire-sorceress-witch at his back, desperate to kill him. But she was too busy dragging air into her lungs and trying to ignore the burning agony of a cracked sternum to do anything other than lay, broken, on the table.

Cadmael sat down, leaned back in his chair,
and placed his feet on the table.

Narrowing his eyes, he commanded, “Come.”

She wasn’t ready to fight him. Not yet. She was still curled in the fetal position, panting and holding her chest. Yet her body moved without her permission. She jolted upright, causing a yelp of pain to wrench free.

One foot stepped towards him, the other followed. Panic struck. She strained against the forced movement but it was no use. She couldn’t st
op herself from walking to him.

He was a Mindbender.

Shit! Shit, shit, shit!
No wonder he was so cocky. He could force anyone to do anything he wanted.

He
watched her with a smug look on his face. How could she fight him when she couldn’t even control her own body?

T
he air she could scarcely take in felt thick and heavy. Tears stung her eyes. She looked at Marcelo. He kept his gaze steadily on her – looking more confident than ever.

Couldn’t he see she was losing?

Once Cadmael had forced her to him, he rose from the chair and towered over her. Sneering, he used his mind to force her to her knees. He was speaking to her but she couldn’t hear him over the sound of the heavy rain on the glass roof.

Every time she tried to take control of her body, her pain worsened
. Her arms hung limply at her sides.

Cadmael bent over and leaned in toward
her neck.

He’s going to do it. He’s going to drink my blood
.

His fangs tore into
her skin and she cried out in pain. It wasn’t a seductive sting like with James, this was agony. He drank greedily and she felt her magic slowly slipping away. Tears flowed freely from her eyes – she was uncaring of who watched.

She ha
d failed. She’d failed Marcelo. She’d failed James and Erin. But mostly, she’d failed herself.

Her body weakened with each long draw he took. If he hadn’t held her there with his mind, she
would have collapsed on the floor. Her eyelids were heavy, her mouth dry, her fingers and toes numb. It was over.

I’m sorry James.
She looked up at the sky, darkened with black clouds. She wished they’d had more time.

“I’
m sorry,” she rasped aloud.

She
tried to slip away into unconsciousness, but something deep inside her was still fighting, clawing at her insides, unwilling to give up. Twenty-five years of survival instinct.

Her eyes snapped open just as a bolt of lightning crashed through the ceiling, shattering the glas
s and raining down around them.

The bolt
of lightning struck the Dark King, piercing through him and landing in her outstretched hands beneath him.

Cadmael was thrown backward
and instinct kicked in. She lit sword in her hand and lunged forward, following Cadmael’s retreat and sliced through his body. The first swipe ripped from his shoulder to his hip. The second cut through his neck. His lifeless body collapsed to the ground.

Rai
n continued to pour as she stared at her father’s body surrounded by a pool of blood on the floor. She fell to her knees.

The room spun and she thought she might either pass out or vomit. Two large boots appeared in front of her.
Swiping back her drenched hair, she looked up into Marcelo’s eyes.