The Darkest Warrior Read online

  He said nothing, simply glared.

  Wind swept through the dungeon, whistling through the metal bars and rustling the length of her azure hair as she drew closer to him. "The day will come, the day will come soon, riding on the wings of fury. Vengeance against you will be meted. Finally you'll find your ladylove, but you will be unable to claim her, for you will be without your head."

  *

  Being one of nine kings of the underworld came with far too many responsibilities, but the health-care benefits package couldn't be beat. If Hades wanted you to live, you lived.

  He stalked through the halls of the Great Temple, a backup meeting place for Sent Ones. His hand rested in his pants pocket, a casual pose, his fingers wrapped around a small sliver of glass. Nowadays, he never left home without it. A piece of her. An enemy, but also a coveted ally. One day, he would win her over. He had to, or all he'd fought for would be lost.

  But he wasn't going to think about her.

  Like any good chameleon, he changed his "look" depending on whomever he would be facing. Today he'd chosen a fitted black tee, black leather pants and mud-caked combat boots. Exactly what was expected of him. Let the Sent Ones assume they knew him.

  Better to ambush them later.

  He rarely visited the third level of the heavens, despite its reputation for carnal depravity, and never visited this second level, where Sent Ones tended to congregate.

  Never--until today. Desperate times, desperate measures.

  The winged demon assassins didn't like him, and the feeling was very mutual. He wouldn't be here if his son's life wasn't in peril.

  William of the Dark had no idea of the danger headed his way.

  At least Hades's view was nice. The temple had the largest stained-glass windows ever made, shafts of colored light filtering into the building, illuminating his path.

  Behind him marched an army. Eight other kings of the underworld, plus Hades's son and daughter, Baden the Terrible, and Pandora the Tasty Treat. A moniker she despised, which was why everyone used it liberally.

  Among the eight: Rathbone the Only, Hades's right-hand man, and a shapeshifter unlike any other. Achilles the First, a terror most legends knew nothing about. Nero, who preferred no title, making him the Cher or Madonna of the underworld. Baron the Widow Maker. Gabriel the Maddened One. Falon the Forgotten. Hunter the Scourge and Bastian the Uninvited, who were brothers.

  Each male bore Hades's brand: two daggers flanking a much longer sword in the center.

  Together, they warred against another male who called himself King of All Kings: Lucifer the Destroyer. The Wily One. Sovereign of the Dead. The Great Deceiver. He had many names, none of them good. He used to be Hades's oldest son, adopted like William.

  No longer recognize the connection.

  Once broken, some ties could not be mended.

  Hades came to a pair of double doors, shoved them open with a single kick and stalked inside a massive great room. Countless Sent Ones stood in rows, ready for battle. From the best of the best--Lysander and Zacharel--to newly elected Elite Seven with their golden wings, to the generals with their white and gold wings, to the warriors with their pure white wings. There were no Messengers or Healers in the bunch, not today. Also absent? Their leader, the Most High, aka The One True Deity--at least, Hades couldn't see him.

  Raising his chin, Hades announced, "I have heard of your plan to attack the realm of Amaranthia."

  One of the Elite Seven stepped forward, saying, "Do you know who I am?"

  A nod. "Axel the something or other, recently promoted to Elite." Hades offered a cold smile. "I know all. Except the details too unimportant to remember." He even knew the reason Axel had the same dark hair, symmetrical features and crystalline eyes as William.

  Axel was found as a baby, abandoned, and raised by a loving family of Sent Ones.

  Hades had found William as a young boy--abandoned--and had taken him in.

  The two were never to meet.

  "I gotta say. You and your band of merry men are--" Axel took a moment to wink at Pandora "--hot. If we don't kill each other, I'd like the chance to get to know you better." She glared, and he blew her a kiss. "We've been watching Abracadabra or whatever for a long time. Serious evil mojo there. As proven by the bomb one of its kings set off in our temple." His tone hardened there at the end.

  He had William's irreverence, as well.

  A tall, muscular Sent One with white hair, scarred alabaster skin and neon red eyes stepped beside him. His name was Xerxes, and secrets seethed inside those eyes. Horrors he'd kept from his comrades.

  "We have kept the bombing quiet, have told no one," Xerxes said, his voice deep and hoarse. At some point before he'd reached full-blown immortality, he'd damaged his vocal cords. "Half of our Elite were slain. Others were promoted, tasked with only one goal. The elimination of Taliesin Anwell Kunsgnos Connacht. He alone is responsible for our tragic loss. Perhaps he knew we watched his home and thought to deter us. There is much demon activity there. But whatever his reason, he must pay."

  Taliesin. Puck's younger brother.

  Through secret communications, William had kept Hades informed of everything that happened in Amaranthia, and how they were stuck inside a maze. If the Sent Ones struck now, William would be injured, or worse. Puck and the girl, too.

  If something happened to the girl, William would blame Hades.

  Also, Hades wanted Puck--and all of Amaranthia--on his side in the war against Lucifer. Soon the Great Deceiver would have no allies.

  "You cannot destroy an entire realm based on one man's actions," Hades announced...despite the fact that he himself had, in fact, destroyed entire realms based on one man's actions. Twice.

  For William's sake, he happily changed his tune. His son deserved happiness. Which meant Amaranthia had to thrive, Puck had to remain wed to Gillian, and William had to give the match his blessing. Working on it.

  "We can do so," Xerxes said, his hands fisted. "We will. We have been unable to reach Taliesin any other way. He must be stopped before he bombs another temple, or even another species."

  A blonde stepped forward. Thane of the Three. "There are impenetrable force fields surrounding Sin. If we destroy the realm, we destroy him. End of story."

  "Yes. The end of one story," Hades said, "but the beginning of another. One of war, pain, death and loss, because I will stop at nothing to punish all those who chose to act against me in this manner. And let's not forget the innocents you will be killing. Hypocrite much?"

  Hisses of disapproval sounded. Growls of aggression.

  "You don't need to face Taliesin," Hades added. "William of the Dark has vowed to punish the warrior. He's inside the force field, making his way to Taliesin now, and his word is as good as gold. He just needs more time."

  "Time is not something we are willing to grant." The grated comment came from another Elite named Bjorn, a male with dark hair, bronzed skin and rainbow-colored eyes. "Our revenge must be swift, and days have already passed as we've done our best to recover."

  As other Sent Ones chanted "Kill him!" Rathbone shifted into a black panther, his favorite form.

  The crowd went silent as the other kings of the underworld prepared for battle. Silver armor replaced Achilles's skin. A club with powers beyond imagining appeared in Nero's hand. Baron flashed his teeth--poison dripping from his incisors. A double-pronged ax appeared in each of Gabriel's fists--one strike could break every bone in a person's body. The tattoos on Falon's chest came alive, misting from his skin, surrounding him in shadows. Hunter and Bastian vanished, suddenly invisible to the naked eye.

  Hades grinned. "You'll give my son two weeks, or we war now. Decide." He purposely omitted whether he meant mortal time or Amaranthian. After they agreed, he would inform them of the time zone.

  "You already war with Lucifer," Xerxes said, his teeth clenched. "Do you truly wish to take us on, as well?"

  "What I wish and what I will do are rarely the same." He did wh
at he must, when he must, always. No matter how distasteful. There was no line he wouldn't cross.

  The two sides faced off, taking each other's measure. The Sent Ones would find out the scrappers from the underworld backed down never. They would rather die for what they believed than live with regret.

  Silence reigned...but only on the outside.

  Like Sent Ones, his people had the ability to communicate inside their minds.

  Nero: The longer we wait, the weaker they believe we are. Let's prove our strength.

  Pandora: Always so desperate to act, Nero. But then, you do like to overcompensate.

  Rathbone: What do you have against action, Tasty Treat? Not getting enough lately?

  Pandora: Screw you.

  Rathbone: Here or when we return home? I'm game either way.

  Baden: Children, please.

  Achilles: Which one of you drank my latte this morning? Tell me before I start splitting open bellies to check.

  Bastian: The Sent Ones have sixty seconds to make up their minds, or I'm killing everyone and going home. I left a woman tied to my bed--and her husband nailed to my wall.

  Hunter: Isn't her husband our father and the woman our stepmother? And haven't you been doing this for nearly a hundred years?

  Bastian: Some games are always fun.

  Gabriel: Remind me to RSVP hell, no to your next family gathering.

  Falon: Remind me to RSVP hell, yes to your next family gathering.

  Baron: Anyone want to grab a burger after this?

  Baden: My woman awaits me. If someone doesn't act soon--

  "Very well," Xerxes finally announced. "William has two weeks to kill Taliesin the Demented."

  "Two weeks Amaranthian time," Thane added, and Hades expelled a breath--his omission had been noted. "If he succeeds, Amaranthia lives on. If he fails, we destroy the realm and all its citizens."

  30

  Gillian watched as a bone-tired Puck and William tapped the syrup from the cuisle mo chroidhe. Finally, their hard work had paid off. And yet, she wasn't as excited about her favorite treat as before. Or rather, her second favorite treat. She'd found something sweeter and even more rare. Puck's smile.

  And I thought orgasms were life-changing.

  The award for Most Beautiful Man goes to...

  His entire face had lit up. Eyes aglow, with little crinkles at the corners. Harsh features set in a soft expression. Mouth curved like a half-moon. Perfect white teeth on display.

  When can I see it again?

  Grinning, she bounded over. "You guys are my--"

  A vicious bellow echoed in the distance, silencing her.

  In unison, everyone reached for a weapon. With the next bellow, Puck cursed.

  "Sandman," he spat.

  Gillian groaned. She'd never encountered a Sandman, but she'd heard the horror stories parents told their children, cautionary tales to ensure innocent babes didn't go running around the dunes at night.

  Unlike earthly legends, an Amaranthian Sandman did not go around encouraging good dreams. Made entirely of sand and magic, a Sandman buried you until you suffocated. And, because he had no organs to damage, you couldn't hurt him or even fight back.

  "We'll dig a well." William pulled a shovel from thin air. "Water will weigh it down."

  "No time." Puck rushed to Lil Nut Sack to unhook his pack. "Cameron and I will lead the creature away from the rest of you."

  Wait. Hold up. "I have an idea," Gillian said. "We can--"

  "You will protect Gillian, Panty Melter." Pointing a dagger in William's direction, Puck snarled, "Stay with her. Guard her with your life."

  With a grunt of frustration, Winter tossed her arms up. "Does no one care about my safety anymore?"

  "No way you get to be the hero," William said to Puck. "You stay here and guard Gillian. I'll kill the creature, and we'll move on. You can thank me later."

  "Fool! You don't just kill a Sandman," Puck grated.

  "You don't just let an enemy get away, either," William snapped.

  "Guys," Gillian said, fighting past her annoyance. "All we need to do is blow him apart and--"

  "He'll only re-form," Puck interjected.

  "Don't you worry your pretty little head about this, poppet." William slammed his shovel into the ground. "We'll take care of it."

  Another bellow, louder this time. As the guys continued to argue, Gillian kissed Peanut's snout. "Do not leave Puck's side, all right?" The two were friends, sort of. Puck would protect him.

  No one noticed as she sprinted off. About a hundred yards ahead, insects, birds and reptiles hurried away as tree after tree fell...revealing a massive beast at least ten feet tall and five feet wide, and made entirely of sand.

  Runes aglow, Gillian braced her legs apart and stretched out her arms. He paused to sniff, sniff the air before diving at her.

  Boom! A blast of wind hit the Sandman directly in the chest, stopping any forward progress. Even as grains scattered and he thinned, he continued to fight, picking up dirt from the ground. And yes, Puck was right. The moment the wind ceased gusting, the Sandman could re-form. That was the reason for stage two.

  Unleashing another burst of magic, Gillian caused the sky to dump a tidal wave over the beast. Whoosh, splash! Water and sand collided, dragging the Sandman down, down, until he was nothing but a pile of mud, his body too heavy to lift.

  The wind died down. Gillian's arms felt as if they weighed a thousand pounds as her runes darkened. The loss of so much magic, so quickly, had drained her, and she dropped to her knees. She waited one second, two, not daring to breathe, but the Sandman remained immobile.

  She'd done it, then. She'd defeated the Sandman, all on her own! Because she ruled!

  As soon as she'd gathered enough strength to lumber to her feet, she fisted two handfuls of mud and returned to her friends--who were now arguing about who would make tastier bait.

  "You're young, tender meat," William was saying to Puck as he continued to dig.

  "I'm old and tough, chewy like leather." Puck stacked fallen limbs at an angle. To create cover for those who remained behind? "I bet you're aged to perfection. And seasoned."

  Winter was building a shelter over the chimeras, muttering about how the animals better understand she planned to save them for her comfort and no other reason. Cameron was climbing a tree obsessively seeking a piece of fruit.

  No one had noticed Gillian's absence.

  "You guys are the worst!" She pelted Puck, then William, with the two handfuls of mud. "Not you," she told Winter. "You're wonderful. Keep being you."

  Winter preened, and William sputtered. Puck blinked at her.

  "The problem is taken care of." Gillian wiped her hands on her pants. "Now, if you guys are done acting like fools, we should finish collecting the syrup and get going."

  *

  Puck took the lead as their group navigated through treacherous twists and turns, clearings laden with more land mines, and a field of wildflowers with toxic spores. Somehow, they emerged successful every time despite his inability to pry his eyes from Gillian.

  The few times he'd succeeded and looked away, he'd noticed William suffered from the same affliction, staring at her just as intently, as if trying to put together a difficult puzzle.

  She'd impressed Puck today, boldly taking on the Sandman. Now...

  She still impressed him.

  As she rode Peanut, expertly guiding him with pressure from her knees, she lifted her chin to greet golden rays of sunlight filtering through the overhead canopy. Her spine remained ramrod straight, her shoulders pushed back, the position of a warrior ready to face any challenge.

  My wife. Utterly magnificent.

  Even with wrinkled clothes and her dark hair tangled, she was the most exquisite woman in all the realms. Strong. Capable. Wise.

  Staring again.

  Don't care.

  After everything Puck had suffered in life, didn't he deserve to look his fill? To enjoy her?

 
To keep her?

  Aye. His decision to change his goals was sound. William would remove Sin from power, saving the Connachts and even the realm itself, but Puck would not accept the crown. He would let it pass to another. A warrior deserving of its power. Puck and Gillian would rule the Shawazons together, and live forever as husband and wife.

  As for the Oracles' prophecy about Gillian... Puck chose to believe she would have an unhappy ending with William.

  Whatever obstacles he encountered along the way, he would destroy.

  "On a scale from ten to ten, how delicious is the syrup I harvested for you?" William asked Gillian.

  Little growls rumbled in Puck's chest, harmonizing with Indifference's whisper-soft snarls. "We harvested. But mostly me. I did the bulk of the work."

  "You are both heroes," she said, her tone placating. "But you know what would be even more delicious than the syrup? If you two finally kissed and made up."

  "Whoo-hoo. Yeah, baby." Winter shook a fist at the sky. "Kiss, kiss, kiss."

  "Hard pass. Goat isn't my thing. I prefer warrior women." William reached out, as if to smooth a lock of hair from her cheek.

  Puck tensed, ready to launch over the chimeras and tackle the male to the ground. Peanut beat him to the punch, swinging his head around to nip William's wrist.

  "Ow!" William exclaimed.

  That's my boy.

  "Peanut." A grinning Gillian patted the top of the chimera's head. "Remember your manners. We ask Momma before we bite, don't we?"

  The animal stuck out his tongue at William.

  Rubbing the bleeding wound, the male said, "You need a bath, poppet. We'll spend the night next to the pond." He motioned to the left, and sounds of rushing water drifted to her ears. "When you're done, my magic fingers will be ready to soothe your aches and pains. A totally platonic massage, of course. Unless you beg. Or ask nicely. Or hint."

  If he put his hands on Gillian, Puck would unleash hell.

  "No, thanks," she said with a shake of her head. "We have a few hours until nightfall. The more ground we cover--"

  "Let me stop you there, lass. We'll break here, set up camp and give the animals a rest." As much as Puck hated to admit it, he agreed with William. Gillian needed to rest. He'd caught her wincing a time or two. And really, he could use some rest, too, to solidify their bond and explain how things were going to be from now on. "If you push yourself to the point of exhaustion, I will push back."