The Demon King (24 page)

Something terribly important had gone down.
She needed to wake up. Her brow furrowed, and like slowly pulling
back heavy curtains, she finally managed to open her eyes.
Confusion settled to stay in her mind when she was greeted with
darkness. If it was dark, it was night. Why had it been so hard to
wake up? And… had she been dreaming? She didn’t dream, not any
longer.

Riding the coattails of these jumbled
thoughts was the dawning realization that she was not in her own
bed. The blankets felt different. They were lighter, silkier,
cooler to the touch. At home, she would cuddle under gobs of
blankets and use magic to make the temperature in her cottage drop
drastically. She loved the dichotomy of a cold face and warm
body.

She needed light.

She whispered the words to a spell that
would give her just such a thing, and the space around her was
suddenly awash in warm, soft yellow light.

If she lived another thousand years, she
would not have enough time to describe the grandeur of the chamber
around her. And like the cherry on top, a gold vase filled with ice
sat on a side table next to the luxurious bed. Lodged into the ice,
being chilled like champagne, rested two vials of Lifeblood.

“
What in the nine hells – ”
Her statement of shock was cut short by what sounded like a bomb
going off somewhere nearby. She squealed as the bed beneath her
shook, and several pebbles of gold were knocked loose from the
ceiling above her. The mirror in the dresser across the room
cracked, and a chunk of glass tumbled to the dresser top. Sounds of
screaming arose beyond the double chamber door, joined by the
recognizable noises of spell casting.

Dahlia’s heart hammered. She quickly
scrambled out of bed, relieved beyond words that she was still
fully dressed. Her mind spun as she looked from the door across the
room to the gold vase filled with Lifeblood vials beside the
bed.

The yelling outside grew louder until she
could identify several distinct voices. One, a male’s, repeatedly
gave orders to several others, directing them toward an armory, to
a portal of some sort, and instructing them to “man stations.”
Dahlia’s panic continued to rise with these sounds, as she realized
it could only mean a violent situation. She was in a room she
didn’t recognize, she had no idea what time of day it was, and the
room she didn’t recognize was in a building that was under
attack.

Think
, Dahlia.

The first thing she did was scramble for the
Lifeblood. Whatever the situation and whatever happened, she was a
few quarts low. If she needed to use her magic, the Lifeblood would
give her the strength to do so.

Suddenly, the massive gold-gilt double doors
to the chamber slammed noisily open. “My lady!”

A man rushed into the chamber, followed by a
handful of soldiers. It wasn’t that they were dressed in fatigues
or shining armor that gave Dahlia the instant impression of
soldiers – it was the orderly way they filed in, the blank
expressions on their faces despite the chaos that was going on
behind them, and the fact that they divided themselves up evenly
and stood on either side of the double doors, no doubt awaiting
instructions.

Light flooded the chamber
from the hall beyond the door, and Dahlia could immediately tell it
was sunlight.
No wonder it was hard for me
to wake up
, she thought. During the day,
she shouldn’t have been able to get up at all! What was going
on?

The man leading the soldiers was
approximately six feet tall, had strawberry red hair so bright it
was that naturally orange color that was so rare, and was wearing
an auburn velvet blazer. These striking, readily recognizable
things were the first to register for Dahlia. She recognized him as
the same man who’d entered the portal yesterday to rescue them from
what had clearly become a portal trap.

“
Bael… right?” she asked in
a numb tone. “Bael of the Blood Moon Valley, messenger of the Grand
Tenebrous Court?”

The man stopped in his tracks and his jaw
dropped open a touch. “I am impressed, my lady!” he said
genuinely.

“
I have a good memory…” she
said, but then added, “once in a while.” Her voice trailed off as
the events of the last twenty-four hours flooded her mind, and a
hard knot settled in her stomach.
The
Demon King
, she thought, remembering the
Detective’s words.

“
You must leave at once!”
said Bael as he rushed toward her. Dahlia swallowed hard and braced
herself. “I can take you to the prince, and then you both must hide
some place safe. Your location has been compromised!”

My
location
, thought Dahlia, as she
contemplated that too. This must have been the castle that the man
had transported them both to. She’d passed out shortly
afterward.

A second boom rocked the building, and more
chunks of ceiling cascaded down atop them. Dahlia put her arms out
for balance, and when she did, she saw the vase with the Lifeblood
begin to topple to the floor. Suddenly, she was blurring, her body
becoming half solid, half gaseous as it traveled at an impossible
speed through space. She moved so fast, she grasped the vials out
of thin air as if they’d been frozen in time. Once she had them,
she spun back around to face Bael, and re-took solid form.

His eyes were the size of tea cup saucers in
his face, but his lips were slightly smiling, and his composure was
mainly maintained.

“
What do you mean my
location has been compromised?” she demanded before he could say
anything.

“
The prince’s cousin has
found you!” he said. “I believe he must have locked on to your
magic signature in the portal where you were temporarily trapped.
Which means he will have traced the prince as well. Time is of the
essence!” he exclaimed, panic making its way into his
features.

Okay, absolutely none of
that makes sense
, she thought. But the
questions piling up would have to wait until a less frantic moment
in time. Right now, what was important was that someone who clearly
meant her harm had located her, and she needed to be
elsewhere.

“
You must drink the
Lifeblood. It will give you the strength you need for action, but
do not use any of your magic,” he told her hurriedly. “No spells!
It will continue to give your location away.”

All
right
, she thought.
No magic
. She popped the cork out of
both vials and downed them one after the other. They were her least
favorite flavor, but this time around they tasted even worse than
usual. She almost gagged, but gritted her teeth against the taste,
made a mental note to ask Bael how the hell he’d managed to get
ahold of them and tell Lalura she couldn’t do this flavor any
longer, then finished them off.

Once they were inside her, she tossed the
empty vials onto the bed and admittedly began to feel better. Her
head cleared a little, and her body felt lighter, not as difficult
to carry. She looked around, realizing something was missing.

“
Where’s Bowie?” she
asked.

Bael blinked, his brow furrowing. “Who?”

“
The dog!” she clarified
shorty, getting antsy. “The dog that was with us when you brought
us here!”

“
Oh!” said Bael, looking
relieved. “My apologies, my lady. I’d forgotten. She is in the
kitchens, eating.”

“
I’m not leaving here
without her,” Dahlia announced. And it was true. She didn’t care
what the danger was, Bowie was coming with her.

Bael looked at her wide-eyed. He paled a
little, the blood draining from his face. But it was clear he knew
she wasn’t joking.

“
Very well,” he said. “I
shall retrieve her.”

When he said this, Dahlia somehow understood
that what he was saying was that it would take precious magical
strength to retrieve the animal, and especially to do so
immediately. However, she really didn’t care. She wasn’t leaving
without her dog.

The redheaded man closed his eyes, whispered
something in the language he’d used before in the portal, and there
was a flash of light. When the light faded, Bowie stood beside him,
looking confused but hyper aware. The canine gave a soft whimper,
looked around, and spotted Dahlia. Her tail began wagging at once.
She took off at a run and skidded to a halt in front of her as
Dahlia knelt to scratch the dog under the chin. “Hi girl,” she said
softly.

“
My lady please, we have
little time for reunions.”

Dahlia stood. “Thank you for getting her,
Bael.”

Her words seemed to take him a little by
surprise, but he quickly recovered, and nodded graciously.

Then Dahlia said, “Take me
to the Detective.”
The
prince
, her mind corrected. And then, like
an epitaph, it corrected again:
The Demon
King
.

Chapter Thirty

When Laz left Lenore’s house, he knew he was
turning his back on his actual mother, flesh and blood. But at the
same time, he couldn’t quite feel that way. The woman looked all of
twenty years old, and he hadn’t seen her in thirty ears. She’d been
through hell – literally – and she’d lived a lifetime, and he knew
that she would do anything for him, as any mother would. But these
were just facts he was reciting to himself, not necessarily
emotions or intuitions. He wasn’t there yet. She may have told him
her life’s story, but he barely knew her.

There was so much he didn’t know.

He turned back on the
sidewalk to view the house one last time. Lenore had told him the
house was in a dimensional bubble of sorts, one she could leave if
she wished but that no one could enter without her permission. Not
only could they not enter the house, they wouldn’t be able
to
see
it if she
didn’t want them to. The home would simply vanish.

Most impressive of all was
that it could travel. Like the bespelled bed knob Angela Lansbury
gave her charges in
Bedknobs and
Broomsticks
, the home was transient and
magical. It was the perfect living space, providing everything and
anything its inhabitants should desire, and traveling from one
dimension to the next through portals all its own.

Apparently casting this spell had taken the
last of Astaroth’s strength. He’d done it to protect the woman he
loved. Even knowing he may never see her again.

“
Astaroth did not make this
decision lightly, Laz. There is a man who would do anything to
obtain Astaroth’s crown and sit upon his throne. The man is Aster’s
nephew Apollyon, and unfortunately he possesses nearly as much
power as the king himself. He was only denied the throne due to the
happenstance of blood, and he knows it. When he began making
threats against your father, Astaroth brought me here…. He is
healing now. In due time, he will return to the waking world and
face Apollyon knowing that no matter the outcome, I will be
safe….”

It left Laz with a lot to think about, not
only where his family was concerned, but where Dahlia Kellen
entered the equation.

Laz froze on the sidewalk as a hard knot of
fear tightened his gut and began ringing in his ears. He didn’t
know how to get back to the castle in the Demon Realm. Bael had
taken him there the first time. Laz had left Dahlia in the hands of
a stranger in a castle stronghold in a realm he didn’t know how to
reach.

A sour taste filled his mouth and magic
flooded his hands in a fight or flight reaction filled with
adrenaline, cortisol, and dark, potent power. He realized in that
moment that it wasn’t just his anxiety over not being able to
return to the Demon Realm that had him up in arms – it was
something more.

“
Something’s wrong,” he
whispered.

A flash of light forced him to take a step
back and shield his eyes. But it lasted a fraction of a second
before it was gone, and a man was rushing toward him. Laz
recognized him at once; it was hard not to.

“
My prince! I’m sorry to
surprise you like this, but you must leave here at once. Your
mother’s location has been compromised, and you and your queen are
not safe here.”

Laz stared at him. “Come again?”

Bael ran his hand over his face. “It’s only
a matter of time before your cousin sends someone here to dispose
of your mother. I believe he is tracking you.”

“
He thinks he locked on to
our magical signatures in the portal trap,” Dahlia
interjected.

Laz looked from Bael to her and then back
again. “Then Lenore isn’t safe either.”

“
No, not for long.
However….” Here, Bael straightened and seemed to compose himself,
as if what he was about to say was very important. “Your father has
awoken. No doubt, he is coming for her himself.”

Laz saw movement beside Dahlia’s hip, and a
head peeking out from behind her. The dog – Bowie. It would seem
the Tuath fae was rather attached to the animal, and vice
versa.

Dahlia stood uncertainly, her lustrous black
hair caressing her face in an unseen breeze, her smooth cheeks
flushed, her expression one of helpless resignation. She even
looked slightly embarrassed. No doubt, Bael’s referral of her as
Laz’s queen was more than a little responsible for that.

Laz really knew Dahlia by
reputation only. He knew of all she’d gone through, he knew how
head strong she was, and he knew how powerful she was. Her
attractiveness was legendary, as even among the Tuath she was
considered more beautiful than most. But just then, she seemed
almost mortal. She was no less lovely, just less indestructible. In
this moment of real innocence, a new layer of splendor draped over
her. Like Buttercup in
The Princess
Bride
, it was that new dimension that
cemented her beauty in Laz’s mind.