Sweet Ruin (24 page)

Within a quarter of an hour, victory was nigh.

—Shoot the bonedeath, Rune!—
Blace commanded.
—West flank.—

Rune plucked a white arrow from his quiver.

Allixta warily said,
—You’ve configured those magicks to make Møriør immune?—
She was understandably nervous.

—You’ll soon find out.—
Rune drew his bow to the limit, aiming for a boulder in the rocky field below. He adjusted for winds, gauging the direction with the sensitive tips of his ears.

Silent, he let fly his arrow.

It sliced through the air. When it implanted in stone, the icy rock exploded.

Waves of heat and pressure expanded from the target, scorching snow, striking the closest demons, then sweeping out farther for miles.

All around Sian and Blace, demons fell to their knees with yells of anguish as their bodies broke and broke. Soon their bones were dust, and they could only writhe on the ground. None would regenerate; each would become an immortal burden on what was left of his people.

The battle was over. The bonedeath always ensured a decisive—and talked about—victory.

Watching his enemies helplessly squirm made Rune even more unsettled! He understood why this needed to be done; the show of force would cow enemies and prevent future conflicts. Besides, if the Møriør didn’t prevail, all these demons would be dead anyway.

But he didn’t relish this.

Nïx had described the Møriør as pure evil, an alliance of monsters and devils. That malicious Valkyrie had long allied with the fey; would she have deemed the outwardly beautiful Magh a monster?

Sian and Blace traced from the devastation and rejoined them with grave faces. No one would celebrate this as a victory.

Rune strapped on his bow.
—I wonder why Orion didn’t merely destroy this dimension in the palm of his hand.—

Dear gods, had Rune spoken that to the others?

Apparently. Orion materialized that moment, his uncanny gaze boring into Rune. Tonight, the Undoing resembled a demon, a gruesome one like Sian’s twin Goürlav had been. Standing over twelve feet tall, Orion had thick-plated skin, two rows of horns, and dripping fangs. But his chilling black eyes were the same.
—This demonarchy has strategic value and is filled with resources
.
Do you harbor other doubts, archer?—

Feigning nonchalance, Rune shrugged.
—None, my liege. If I’ve discharged my duty here, I’ll take my leave.—

—By all means,—
Orion said, his demonic expression giving away nothing.

Rune was tempted to return to Josephine, but he couldn’t predict his behavior. His hunt for Nïx wouldn’t resume until night fell in New Orleans. Only one thing left to do.

He traced to the Dryads, his favorite nymph covey. They lived in a hollowed-out tree as large as an apartment building. Each nymph had her own quarters, her “nest.” They were spread throughout the interior of the tree’s limbs. The main gathering area was a bar at the base of the trunk.

When he appeared inside, nymphs cheered his arrival. They were all topless, their voluptuous bodies painted with leaf designs. Amber jewels adorned them.

The other males present scowled, knowing Rune had just skipped them in line.

“Well, hello, doves.” He cast the nymphs his wickedest grin. They crowded around him, fawning, hoping to be chosen.

This was what he’d needed! He’d already fucked most of them, which meant they craved a repeat.

Josephine, however, had woken from a night in his bed with one question on her lips:
Will you really let me leave?

Here, he was the best choice, the ultimate for any female to enjoy. Here, he had one worry: deciding which nymphs to honor with his dick.

Second best? Not among these beauties.

TWENTY-NINE

R
une?” Jo called when she woke in his bed alone. She tested her body, moving her arms and legs.

She was totally healed! Time to return to New Orleans.

Yet Rune didn’t answer. She rose, gazing down at her many bandages. He’d cared for her. So where was he?

She checked the other rooms he’d shown her. No sign of him. She dimly remembered speaking to him when she’d been in such pain, but not much of what they’d said.

Until he returned, she was trapped in his home again. Which meant Thad remained unprotected, under the control of an evil bitch. Jo shivered to recall Nïx snapping her bones like dried twigs.

The Valkyrie wanted her to spy on some guy named Orion and report back. Nïx had said he would impact her life in so many ways. That might be true, but Jo had no idea who he was.

Struggling to make sense of that fight, she headed to the bathing chamber. As she unwrapped layers of bandages, more details filtered into her consciousness. Rune had used her as bait for Nïx! But he’d also saved her in the end. Why else would the Valkyrie have stopped mid-murder?

He’d yelled as Nïx tortured her—as if he were desperate to save Jo. As if he gave a damn about her.

Naked, she gazed down at her body. Black runes covered her. He’d painstakingly crafted shapes from his own blood.

That delicious wine.

She trailed her fingertips over each one, loving his marks on her flesh. She would’ve healed on her own in a few days, but he hadn’t known that. She recalled his panic, and the dread rumbling in his voice.

The dark fey was starting to feel more for her!

After their night together, Jo’s own feelings might have deepened into something more than infatuation. Her dreams of his past had affected her as well. Seeing him so vulnerable and young, yet so cocky, had touched her. The love he’d felt for his mother had softened her.

She’d been swamped with disappointment when he’d traced her to the Quarter and told her to run home to her roost.

Huh. That had merely been part of his ruse.

In the spacious shower area, she pressed some tiles, and warm water cascaded from the ceiling. She was reluctant to erase his symbols, but she needed to clear the cobwebs from her head.

She stepped under the water, staring at the drain. The blood washing from her skin colored the water like ink, and quickened her appetite. When Rune returned, would he give her a top-off? She nearly moaned at the prospect.

Could she trust him enough to reveal Nïx’s deal? Maybe he and Jo could work together on their mutual Valkyrie problem.

After her shower, Jo padded in a robe to his closet to steal an undershirt. His clothes were rough-and-tumble, many ripped and frayed. She loved his devil-may-care look.

Lady-killer with a big swinging dick? Oh yeah.

But she didn’t need to be mooning over a player like him. Nothing mattered more than saving Thad from Nïx. As she dressed, Jo replayed the madwoman’s every word. Some things stuck out more than others.

The ground should be your best friend. . . . Why would you ever become tangible in a fight? . . . Your mind is your greatest weapon. Use it to strike; use it to defend. . . .

Had Nïx given Jo pointers to help with her spy mission? Jo was leery about believing the Valkyrie, yet she got the sense Nïx had been telling the truth. Great. Now all Jo had to do was figure out how to use her mind to strike.

The Valkyrie had also mentioned a woman. Had Nïx been talking about the one in Jo’s waking nightmare, the one who’d emitted power to shore up the sky?

Though Jo wasn’t a trusting person (understatement), maybe she should reveal to Rune everything she’d learned and remembered. Damn it, where was he?

Another memory hit her. Just before she’d passed out, he’d told her he was off to . . . service a nymph harem!

Her eyes went wide. “Manwhore!” He was in bed with another female at this very moment. Or
females
, plural. Apparently, Rune
wasn’t
starting to feel more for her.

That gigantic dickwad.

What was it with him and nymphs? She clenched her fists, and the lights flickered. The furniture vibrated.

She gasped. That hadn’t happened since all those years ago at the morgue. She’d all but forgotten it.

Had she just moved the furniture with her mind? One way to find out. She returned to his museum, filled with his precious relics. His
priceless
ones. What better place to test an unpredictable power!

She eyed a small vase across the room. She inhaled, exhaled, then pictured lifting it. . . .

The vase wobbled!

Holy shit, she
was
telekinetic! More clearly she saw that vision of the crumbling world and the dark-eyed woman—she’d been using her hand to control her telekinesis.

Jo aimed her palm at the vase and tried to raise it. The thing shattered.
Uh-oh. Hope he didn’t like that one.
She turned to another antique, a delicate-looking box atop a marble pedestal.

Pressing down telekinetically would have to be easier than lifting. She concentrated on flattening the box and waved her palm down. The box—and the pedestal—were crushed.

Awesome!

But she wasn’t managing a focused beam like that woman’s. Jo needed more practice. Rune’s collection was making a great shooting gallery.

She turned to a medium-size bust of some man who’d probably written books Jo couldn’t read.
Asshole.

BOOM! She laughed as chunks of marble landed all across the room. Okay, not focused, but Hulk-smash was more Jo’s style anyway.

Then came the real test. Would she be able to wield her telekinesis while ghosting?

She dematerialized. Floating like a speck of nothing, she gazed from one treasure to the next. Which one to practice on? He’d said these were war prizes, but she’d bet some were gifts from women he’d screwed.

When Jo pictured him in bed with beautiful nymphs—gazing down at them with those seductive eyes—a wave of power blasted from her mind.

The sound of destruction rang in her ears.
Crashing, ripping, shattering.
Once the dust settled, she blinked in disbelief. She’d trashed everything in the room.

Hulk. Smash.

He was overly proud of his home, would be furious when he saw the damage. Lady Shady gazed around with a discerning eye.

I’ll smash it
all
to bits.
Payback for hurting her heart.

She turned to the next room to
practice
some more. She’d been a killer before. With these new talents, she would be an undefeatable one.

She frowned. Nïx had made it sound as if Thaddie was like Jo. If so, how could he cope with changes like these?

With the Valkyrie’s help?

Jo had been forced to let MizB raise Thad; she’d be damned if Nïx took over from here on out.

Change of plans, Nïx.
Jo would definitely be getting access to Thad, but not in the way the Valkyrie had envisioned. Jo wasn’t going to spy on anyone; instead she’d do what she did best.

Before Rune got another chance at Nïx . . .

I’m going to kill her.

THIRTY

R
une’s face was buried between two of the finest nymph breasts in Loredom, his hands full of them, and he was kissing his way toward a taut nipple.

Just what he’d needed.

His soon-to-be-shed trews were the only thing preventing him from shoving inside his partner, Dalliance.

The word had been derived from her, the epitome of amorous toying. She had been for millennia. She had long black hair, wide gray eyes, and a body men had actually killed to possess.

She arched her back in readiness, her fingers threading into his hair. His lips closed around a nipple, but his teeth didn’t click against a piercing. No warm metal teased his tongue.

Often imitated, never duplicated.

Concentrate on what you’re doing!
He knew what she liked, could satisfy her in his sleep. The two of them went way back, had shared clients and patrons, fucking for the entertainment of others at exclusive gigs.

Every now and then, they’d hook up for old times’ sake. He’d selected her today, instead of a bevy all for himself.

The difference between him and Dalli? She’d chosen her line of work at the outset.

The night Magh had sold Rune to a brothel, he’d just seen his mother’s grave and been devastated to learn of her fate.