rylee adamson 10 - blood of the lost (17 page)

Rylee stiffened beside me. “I remember him. He was an asshole then, too. Hasn’t changed much.”

She was right, he hadn’t changed much.

But I had.

CHAPTER 20

RYLEE

LARK’S FATHER WAS a dick of epic proportions. Then again, my adopted parents hadn’t won any awards for how they’d dealt with me, either.

The king, Basileus, had long gray and brown hair, and except for the slight wrinkles around his eyes, he didn’t look all that old. Yet he was close to a thousand—according to Lark.

He had a stocky build with heavy muscles, and his green eyes were, at the moment, hard as flint. But he wasn’t the only one who was pissed.

“Maybe if you knew you had a demon in your home, you wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss her,” I snapped.

Lark put a hand on my arm. “Let me deal with him, Rylee.”

His eyebrows shot upward. “This is Rylee, the one you helped in the desert. The one who caused your second time in the oubliette?”

Lark laughed. “Old man, I am
not
the child I was even ten years ago. Your approval means nothing to me anymore. For so long, I thought you were broken, and I could help you heal. And then I realized there was no healing you. The other rulers are right, you are weak.”

He sucked in a sharp breath. “How dare you!”

“HOW DARE YOU!” she roared back, and I’ll admit, her anger was something I never thought I’d be afraid of. But I stepped back and gave her room.

The earth above and below trembled with her anger. Fucking Destroyer . . . no shit.

She walked toward him, the earth rumbling. “While the world suffers, you stay inside the Rim and hide. But there is nothing you can do to hide from the tidal wave of demons coming, Basileus.”

As if using his name was a physical slap, he stumbled back, opened his mouth, and the sounds of screaming erupted above us.

“Bella is up there,” Lark whispered, and she was running for the stairs. I was right behind her, my pack with me. Alex shifted in mid-stride, as did Peta. Pamela and Berget ran together, their long hair blowing out behind them. Liam was the fastest, though, leaping up the stairs four and five at a time, passing even Lark. Cactus—where the hell was he?

At the top of the stairs, I saw him, guarding what was supposed to be our exit.

I say supposed to be because as far as I could see, there was no fucking way out. Fanny had apparently brought friends with her for shits and giggles. The inside of the Spiral swarmed with demons—
swarm
being the word of the day. Not a single one was bigger than a small dog and they all had wings. They had picked up Belladonna and held her high above our heads as she shrieked. Cactus was shooting the little bastards with balls of flame. Pamela joined in and the two vampires dove into the melee.

But only I could send them back. “Throw them to me. Everyone throw the little fuckers my way.”

Three of them came at once, from Liam, Pamela, and Lark. I dropped my weapons and caught them, holding them tightly as I sent them to the other side of the Veil. A stopgap at best, it was all I had since the little bastards could crawl right back out whatever hole Orion had opened.

Over and over, biting teeth and slashing claws came at me as my family tossed the demons my way.

I held to my love for my daughter, for Liam, and all the others in my life. In that, this was the easy part. To remember how lucky I was to have so much love, to have all those people with me on this crazy journey.

That was simple.

As I grabbed each demon I whispered the same thing. “Go to where you belong.”

I hoped it was farther from us than even the seventh Veil. I really did, but I somehow doubted it.

Sweat and blood slicked my skin, and the scratch and bite marks stung, the tiny open wounds like miniature hot pokers.

The black and gray flesh of the demons, their leathery wings and snapping jaws, blurred together until I saw nothing but them.

None of them willingly came at me once they realized who I was. They actively avoided me.

“Flying rat bastards,” I yelled as I leapt up to grab one by the foot before it could get farther away. My words were harsh, but my intentions were not. They couldn’t be if I was to keep this up.

As quickly as the attack had started, it was over.

I stood with my arms out, aching, waiting.

“They’re gone,” Pamela whispered, her voice hoarse.

Rubbing my arms, I looked at my bare skin. It looked as though I had red sleeves, and the ache in my muscles picked up in earnest.

“I can heal you,” Pam said, coming toward me. I waved her off.

“No, don’t waste your energy on me. I’m not badly hurt.” I took quick stock of my people before picking up my swords and tucking them in. Everyone was scratched up, bitten and clawed, but there was nothing serious. So what the fuck had the attack been about?

“Where is Jonathan?” I spun as I spit out the question, running down the stairs, fully expecting him to be gone.

And he was . . . almost.

A demon sat on his chest, its teeth latched onto his neck as it chewed into him. I leapt down the last few stairs and across the sand, fully tackling the demon like a linebacker. We rolled across the sand and I whispered for it to go. To return to wherever it was from.

It screeched and then its body dissolved into nothing but a puff of smoke. “PAMELA!” I screamed her name even as I scrambled back to Jonathan. Tracking him, I could feel his threads slipping away, the same as Blaz only hours before.

Pamela skidded to a stop on her knees and slapped her hands on the kid’s chest. His whole body jerked upward as she poured her magic into him. Slowly, the skin on his neck stitched back together and his breathing eased as he fell into a drowsy state that wasn’t quite sleeping, not quite unconscious.

I dropped my head, my chin touching my chest. “Holy fucking hell, that was close.”

A sigh rushed out of Pamela as she slumped beside me. “I’ve never worked that much magic in my whole life.”

I didn’t doubt it, and yet I knew worse was coming. But I didn’t say that. I didn’t have too.

“The final battle is going to be a thousand times harder, isn’t it?” she whispered. I reached across to her and took her hand.

“At least.”

Her lips tightened, and I was proud of her. Even a few months ago, that comment might have elicited tears, not the hardening of her resolve.

Footsteps echoed into the chamber and with them the sound of raised voices.

“You bring demons into my home and then you expect to me to help you?” Basileus snapped.

Lark’s voice was deceptively calm and she spoke as if her father never said a word. “Bella, it’s time, I think. You are his heir; I cannot do this.”

Watching them, I saw the resemblance between Belladonna and her father, but there was no such connection between Lark and her family. At least, physically. As Bella drew herself straight, she pulled out a necklace from under her nightshirt. A monster big emerald hung from a silver chain, catching the torchlight and flinging green glimmers over the room. Perhaps it was a mark of the heir to the Terraling’s throne. That would make sense.

“Father, I am your heir, am I not?” Bella asked.

The king nodded, a frown on his face. “You are, you know that is only temporary until I decide who would be better suited—”

Bella held a hand out to her father, placing it on his shoulder. “As heir to the throne, I place you under arrest for actively trying to subvert those who would save our world. Ender Lark, please take him to the dungeons.”

Lark clamped her hands over her father’s and I thought there was going to be another epic showdown. But he deflated under her, like a balloon losing the last of its air.

No more words were spoken as he was carted off to wherever the dungeons were.

Pamela looked at me with wide eyes. “Wow.”

Jonathan stirred beneath us. “Wow is not how I feel right now. I was dying. Who brought me back?”

Pamela cleared her throat. “I did.”

He sat up and glared at her. “The next time I’m dying, witch, let me die.”

Well, wasn’t that a pleasant how do you do.

I smacked him in the chest with the flat of my hand hard enough to leave a perfect imprint of my fingers as I drove him back to the sand. “After you do whatever you’re supposed to do in this battle, you can dive right in front of a demon and ask them for their personal touch, for all I care. Got it, kid?”

He blinked up at me, his crossed eyes focusing on me. “I remember you, Rylee. You took me from the Shadow Walker.”

I nodded. “Yes, with Lark.”

He glared at me. “Why is everyone so intent on keeping me alive, when all I want to do is die?”

“Like I said”—I crouched beside him—“once you help me, you do whatever the fuck you want.”

“But I can only help if you have the right payment,” he said softly and I felt it there, within the threads of his life as I Tracked him.

The same madness that had taken Giselle’s mind was eating away at his.

And he knew it.

CHAPTER 21

RYLEE

LARK WAS BACK in a few minutes, her face deeply troubled, if the look in her eyes meant anything.

“Lark, what’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure, but the air feels strange on my skin and the scent of demons is still very strong. Too strong. We need to go.”

I grabbed Jonathan’s hand and jerked him to his feet. Pamela turned away, a red haze on her cheeks. No time for niceties. “Let’s get him pants and get the fuck out of here then.”

Belladonna pulled her wrap from her shoulders and handed it to Lark. “Here. It isn’t pants, but it will cover him.”

Lark snagged the material and wrapped it around Jonathan’s waist in a few quick loops, tying it off at his hip.

Lark’s sister laughed. “I see you haven’t lost your flair for dressing people.”

“Bella,” Lark said, “we have to rally everyone. Every family, every elemental has to be at this battle, or we don’t stand a chance. They were the only supernaturals not affected by the pox.”