Dark Possession Page 20

  “This is an outrage!” Queen Anya cried from the east bank of the falls. “Bring them down! No one can interfere with a Challenge!”

  To her Champion she ordered, “Get back in the fight! Finish him! Do it now!”

  “I wasn’t interfering!” came a distant shout from the skies above, “those darn tubes got away from me, my bad! Don’t know how they caught fire… so strange...”

  Eveline?

  Ramses squinted ferociously at the skies.

  Eveline?!

  And it was Rhys who was carrying her, motherfucker!

  What the fuck was she doing here?

  With a renewed burst of adrenaline, a surge of power charged through Ramses’ body with the force of a nuclear bomb. Suddenly, he no longer felt his wounds, his lungs no longer burned with water. He only felt fury—

  And fear. So much fear.

  She shouldn’t be here. She just made herself a target, and there was little he could do to protect her.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his opponent take a giant leap off a boulder that jutted from the rapids. Mid-step, the other male sprouted giant black wings from his back, though he maintained his humanoid form otherwise. Like a bullet, he shot up into the sky directly at Rhys and Eveline.

  No.

  Ramses’ heart pounded so hard as he leapt after the male, he couldn’t hear anything else. Didn’t register that pandemonium had broken out all around them, warriors from both sides bursting from the forests with weapons raised. His only thought was to somehow reach Eveline.

  But he couldn’t leap fast or high enough, his outstretched hand missing the Challenger’s foot by a whisper of an inch.

  As the other male collided with Rhys and Eveline, Rhys suddenly transformed back into his humanoid form, plummeting from the sky in a deadweight.

  Ramses’ breath froze as Eveline shrieked, falling right behind Rhys.

  But the winged male caught her in his arms. Caught her and fucking carried her off!

  An explosive roar tore through Ramses’ chest, just as rocks beneath the rapids detonated through the surface of the water and rained down upon the opposing forces on both sides of the falls like boulder-sized hail.

  The release of power draining him, along with his countless wounds, Ramses fell back into the currents.

  Down the crushing deluge of the falls.

  “A queen becomes Queen. A slave becomes Mate. A King falls in flames. A winner loses in games. A queen gives way. A Mate displaced. A Champion reborn. A King transformed. A stone heart in fire. A soul dances higher. When True Love reveals. And old wounds heal…”

  —From the lost records of the Zodiac Prophesies

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Well, that was certainly an interesting display.”

  “Indeed. You were right, my child,” the hissing voice could be heard from an unidentified location amidst the surrounding trees.

  The messenger and the Mistress observed the ongoing battle between Queen Anya’s contingent and that of Alend Ramses, each hidden in their own respective shadows from view.

  “The Dark King appears to be a powerful telekinetic,” the messenger noted. “No wonder he chose to fight bare-handed.”

  A dark chuckle echoed through the whispering leaves of the forest.

  “He is not simply a telekinetic, my child. He is an Earth Elemental. An extremely strong one, by the looks of it. Though he didn’t unleash his power until the end.”

  The messenger frowned.

  “I have never heard of such. What is an Elemental?”

  “A story for another time,” the Mistress answered obliquely, and abruptly changed the subject.

  “You have done very well. I am pleased. However, I will take it from here.”

  The messenger stiffened.

  “My prize?”

  “Of course,” came the silky hiss, with a goose-bump raising undertone of danger. “But in due time. You want to be ruler of your own hive, you shall have your wish. The wheels are in motion.”

  “But—”

  “Do not test me, child,” the Mistress growled threateningly.

  The messenger had enough sense of self-preservation to slink back into the shadows.

  “I will await your news, then.”

  “Do.”

  With that, the messenger silently retreated from the forest, going the way they came.

  Medusa lingered a while longer in the darkness, watching the battle between the two Dark forces draw to conclusion.

  What a spectacular display of strength and power from both fighters!

  And now they were wounded, Ramses more than the Challenger. It was too risky to pursue Ramses while he was surrounded by his Chosen—already, the two animal spirits on his guard had dove down the waterfall after him and fished him out of the lake below. More reinforcements arrived, amongst them the New England Hive’s Hunter and Head of Security.

  Now was not the right time.

  No, she intended to wait to catch two birds with one stone. They would make fantastic additions to her soulless army.

  She had amassed plenty of foot soldiers, but few generals. The Paladin had healed from his previous injuries, many of which Medusa herself inflicted during and after her transformation (to test out her newfound powers, as it were), but he was only one. She needed many more.

  She could hardly wait to collect them.

  *** *** *** ***

  Winged-men could fly pretty damned fast!

  This was one of many of Eveline’s scattered thoughts as she held on for dear life traveling at the speed of a 747.

  Well, okay, maybe not quite so fast.

  She really wouldn’t know. Since she was clutched in the arms of a savage brute rather than safely ensconced inside the first-class cabin of a premier airline. Emirates Airlines had the best service, but Singapore Airlines had the best-looking flight attendants, in Eveline’s considered opinion. Not that she traveled all that frequently, but when she did, she liked to do so in comfort, her recent trek through the Middle East notwithstanding.

  Which was to say—Eveline did not enjoy flying full-speed ahead in the current manner!

  It felt very fast, with the sharp, icy wind in her face, even though she tried tucking most of her exposed skin into the surprisingly hot chest of the bird-man. Into the crook of his neck, to be precise, which the torn collar of his shirt laid bare.

  He had a very nice chest, if she were to be completely honest. Not as nice as Ramses’, of course. But then, she really didn’t have that many muscular, hard, warrior male chests in her experience to compare to. She liked the intellectual type of males, after all. This current stone-hard chest she was trying to bury her frozen nose in was an anomaly.

  Well, since meeting Ramses, she’d been having quite a few unusual experiences.

  Where were they headed? Was Eveline’s next thought. They were flying west from the American Falls, that’s all she knew. It was still very dark, and there were few stars visible. But with what she understood of astronomy, she could piece together that they were going west.

  Maybe.

  She thought about asking her…captor? Carrier? Winged Conveyance? Angel of Death? But she didn’t want to open her mouth and risk sucking in a blast of cold air. And she figured he wouldn’t either. Since she was no telepath, she couldn’t attempt communicating with him mentally. And if he was one, he didn’t indicate a desire to speak to her.

  Why he was carrying her off to some unknown location was the logical question that followed.

  She hadn’t meant to interfere with the Challenge, heedful of Rhys’ warning…

  All right. She had. But really, the slippery, misbehaving scrolls just jumped out of her backpack to the events below.

  Truly!

  You try juggling scrolls while zipping through the skies at a few hundred miles per hour in the talons of a giant eagle!

  She’d opened her backpack and retrieved them because she was hoping she could absorb some bright ideas on how to s
top the Challenge through osmosis, by touching the parchment and getting helpful visions. None came when she held them, however, unlike before in the library.

  And if she sort of, kind of, wished they’d catch fire and targeted their destination towards a particular individual as they hopped out of her cold-numbed fingers…well…people had thoughts all the time, didn’t they? She had no idea the darn things would actually do what she envisioned. (Never mind that she had a track record of witchery in her past, and had been known to cast a spell or two when pressed.)

  Her magic didn’t always work. Who knew they’d work exactly as she intended right then during the battle? Sheer coincidence and luck were all it was. Nevertheless—and she’d stick to her story ’til the bitter end—her interference might have ticked off the bird-man currently absconding with her person.

  But why carry her to a secret destination?

  If he was angry, he could just beat her up or drop her from the sky to her death (please don’t!). Why cradle her rather carefully (if tightly) against his chest as he flew off with her?

  This was when Eveline’s overactive imagination took over.

  What if he was stealing her for his bird-wife? He was obviously Gifted with an animal spirit—specifically that of an eagle. If he could transform parts of himself, he was likely a Lesser Beast, for Beasts could only transform their whole bodies. At least, that’s what Eveline’s research into the subject told her. She’d never encountered an animal spirit in person.

  There were very few animal spirits in the world, she knew. Most of that Kind had been hunted to extinction in ancient times. And now, within the span of a few hours, she’d already met two such individuals, Rhys and the bird-man.

  Hmm. She should give her possible husband-to-be (if his intention tended toward bride-stealing) a better name than bird-man.

  Wings? Too generic.

  Eagle? Too obvious.

  Okay, bird-man it was.

  She really didn’t have the wherewithal to come up with something better right this moment.

  Another option was that he was hungry. Maybe he was one of those flesh-eating harpies who wanted to feed her to his nest of baby harpies? Well, harpies were usually female and ugly, so there’s hope he wasn’t one. But, he could also be a predatory Stymphalian bird or a Strix, both of which ate human flesh. Both of which were also mythological, it was true, but Eveline knew very well how every myth was based on fact.

  Eagle. He looked like he had pretty eagle wings. Strix had owl-like wings. And Stymphalian birds had metallic feathers and poisonous dung. She decided he was definitely an eagle. Noble, beautiful birds. Who hopefully didn’t eat small, red-headed librarians. Well, his wings were black like a raven’s actually. Ravens were known to be a bit carnivorous, weren’t they?

  And round and round, Eveline’s thoughts circled, getting nowhere and everywhere all at once.

  She hoped she hadn’t tossed the scrolls that were actually useful in her desperate bid to stop the bird-man from strangling Ramses. There was one left in her backpack still.

  Her poor, priceless artifacts!

  They’d been sacrificed for a good cause. But even so, Eveline spent a few minutes wallowing in despondency over their flaming departure from this world. Words that would never be read and understood. Symbols of wisdom that would never be learned. She was relatively certain that wasn’t what the scrolls were meant to be used for—as projectiles of death to be hurled down at unsuspecting warriors in the heat of battle.

  And then she had one last thought, which by necessity she couldn’t avoid: She hoped the bird-man would land soon.

  She really had to pee.

  *** *** *** ***

  Ramses came to with a roar.

  And just about took out Devlin and Maximus with a double-fisted punch as he sprang up to his feet, ready for battle.

  “Easy there, King,” Anastasia said, though she uttered the words from a safe enough distance, putting both hands palms up in front of her to ward off Ramses’ undiscerning aggression.

  “You’re still bleeding out of several wounds, and your lungs are full of water. You’re in no condition to start any fights right now.”

  Ramses took a few deep breaths to control himself as he took in his surroundings.

  He was at the bottom of the falls, on the bank of the reservoir. His Chosen were all present, save Ryu Takamura who was still abroad on mission.

  Maximus, Ariel, Devlin, Anastasia, and Rhys.

  His eyes narrowed on the eagle spirit, recalling that Rhys had shifted into humanoid form mid-flight and plummeted into the rapids from a great height.

  “Are you whole and sound?” he asked his Chosen gruffly.

  “Aye. I—oomph.”

  Rhys grunted in pain as he staggered back and almost fell on his ass when Ramses shoved him hard enough to leave extra large handprint bruises that even his immortal healing abilities would take a while to remove.

  “What the fuck were you thinking?! Transforming mid-flight? How could you let her go?!”

  Ramses got right in Rhys’ face, bearing down on the other male, his entire body quivering with barely controlled rage and the stress of his wounds.

  “It’s not my choice,” the eagle retorted, his own expression both stubborn and regretful, and he was quickly working himself into a temper as well.

  “He’s my king. He commands all things aviary. He willed me to transform and let go. There was nothing for it.”

  “I am your king!” Ramses practically shouted. “You pledged allegiance to me!”

  “You are my chosen king!” Rhys couldn’t help but yell back, both males’ testosterone escalating beyond control. “He is my natural king! I physically cannot disobey him!”

  “Ramses, calm down,” Maximus tried to insert the voice of reason. “It’s not Rhys’ fault.”

  “You should never have brought her here!” Ramses was not backing down. His temper only boiled higher.

  “What possessed you? She is a civilian female! A tiny Keeper of history. What the fuck were you thinking?!”

  Aaaaand, they rounded right back to where they started.

  “Ramses, you’re about to fall on your face,” Devlin interjected in his typical bored tone, though those who knew him could hear his concern.

  “Sit down on that rock before you kiss the muddy ground.”

  Because his physical exhaustion and wounds had finally caught up with him, Ramses sat.

  He continued to glare murderously at Rhys, however, and the eagle spirit glared right back.

  “On the bright side, Eveline did save your ass,” Anastasia said. “The rest of us couldn’t interfere. She did. There could be consequences, but…”

  Ramses’ ears practically tingled as he waited for the end of the “but.” He was willing to grasp onto any loophole that would save Eveline from punishment for interfering in a Challenge.

  “She doesn’t belong to a Dark Hive,” his Head of Security noted. “She isn’t part of either contingent present at the Challenge. Technically, she might get away without consequences.”

  “And because the Challenge was interrupted before its conclusion,” Devlin continued, “no winner has been declared. The match will either be forfeit, or the Challenger will have to reissue.”

  Ramses didn’t give a fuck about the Challenge. He only focused on Eveline.

  How was he to track her down? Why did the warrior take her? What did he want with her? Dark Goddess, if he hurt her…

  The boulder Ramses was sitting on shook ominously before hairline fractures cracked along its surface. Ramses’ entire body quivered with barely contained pressure.

  “On the other bright side, we kicked Queen Anya and her supporters’ puny, weakling asses,” Ariel offered. “The hail of boulders helped, by the way. Thanks for that. Fascinating Gift you have there, Ramses. You’ve obviously been holding out on us.”

  He ignored the comments and focused on Eveline. He had to get to her, but how?

  Though h
e could feel his repressed powers churning through his system, he was also physically depleted, his body having taken a severe beating. He willed his powers to recharge him, but his Gift had been dormant for millennia, refusing now to answer his call. Only recently had he been able to wield it in small ways.

  The rock explosion in the falls had been a fluke. And now that it was over, he didn’t know whether and when he could harness the same power again.

  “We need to return to the Cove and regroup,” Maximus pressed. “Queen Anya will be doing the same with her hive. We need to be ready for—”

  “No.”

  Ramses rose to his feet, locking his knees to stay upright.

  “I must go after Eveline. I must bring her back.”

  “I can take Ariel to follow their trail,” Devlin volunteered. “We’ll—”

  “No. I will go after Eveline,” Ramses repeated unequivocally. “The rest of you return to the Cove. Maximus, you have command.”

  “Think clearly,” Maximus barked, careless of protocol. “You are King. You cannot go galivanting across the continent while we are on the verge of civil war. You—”

  “I will not rest until I find Eveline and bring her back,” Ramses growled, aggressively shoving himself into the Commander’s space, until they were chest to chest, jaw to jaw.

  “I will not leave behind the person who saved my life, misguided though her actions may have been. You do what you must to shore up loose ends with the Great Plains. But do not presume to lecture me again.”

  Maximus narrowed his eyes at his king dangerously, the edges of his form shimmering with the energy to shift into his animal form—that of a giant Siberian tiger.

  Ramses bared his vampire fangs in return as a primitive growl rumbled through his throat.

  If the Commander wanted to Challenge him tonight, he was more than game, wounds notwithstanding. His broiling temper alone could detonate them all to kingdom come. But as long as he was king, he wouldn’t tolerate dissension. Not even from his trusted and respected right hand.

  “I can help you find her,” Rhys spoke up, attempting to diffuse the crackling tension, and Ramses flicked a look of surprise his way.