Текст книги "The Fallen King"
Автор книги: T. A. Grey
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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 17 страниц)
Chapter Four
Night set by the time Abby got home from the lab. The dead shapeshifter case was going to be a hard one for detectives since they had no witnesses. Either that or anyone who witnessed the crime wasn’t coming forward. Some people get scared in situations like this and don’t want to come forward. It could be to their benefit or demise in cases where they recognized the killer. The knife used to commit the murder still hadn’t been found and until all the blood and evidence was processed, nothing could be done. It was a waiting game until they got another hit.
“What a day,” Abby said as she unlocked her front door and stepped into her house. It wasn’t really her house; just a rental but she loved it all the same. It had three bedrooms, two baths, and a single-car garage to boot. Going from college dorms to the small apartment she shared with her friend Jenna after college to this was like hitting the lottery.
Her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning but her body was so tired she just wanted to pass out and not wake up for a week. She couldn’t do that though, nope. She had to face her problems. She needed to contact her step-sisters.
She wondered: what would they think of her? Would they like her, accept her? She doubted it. She couldn’t say she’d be so agreeable to accept a step-sibling that she didn’t know about until now. Still, she had to try. As soon as she got some sleep she’d do some research and find some addresses. A spark of hope filled her that maybe, just maybe, they’d be wonderful. She’d only ever had her mom and no one else. She’d had friends but that wasn’t the same as family. Jenna was always there if she needed her, but they weren’t as close as they’d been while in college.
Abby set her lab bag on the kitchen table, snagged a yogurt out of the fridge and spoon from the kitchen drawer, and then headed to the bedroom. She needed to get a pet, a cat or maybe a dog. Something so the house wouldn’t feel so empty every time she got home.
She scrubbed her face and changed into her pajamas as she finished her yogurt and tossed it into the trash bin. She’d just pulled down the comforter, ready to let her exhausted bones rest, when a bang came at a door.
Not a knock, a bang.
She jumped, her heart starting a fierce pounding beat in her chest. Her hand went to her chest, and her eyes flew wide open. She checked the clock: ten o’clock. Who the hell would be banging on her door like that? That sounded like the knocking SWAT officers used before breaking down the door when they had a search warrant.
Getting control of herself, Abby opened her nightstand drawer and pulled out her gun. She had a permit for it and she knew how to shoot. The banging persisted. BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! It never relented, never paused.
Abby crept down the hall on the balls of her feet as her heart thundered in time to the knocking. She kept her thumb over the safety on her gun, ready at a moment’s notice to flick it off and use it.
Just as she reached the door, the banging stopped. She froze, straining to hear something. No whisper of breath, no sound of movement; she only heard the cacophonous thud of her own heartbeat. She breathed as quietly as she could as she tried to slow her racing heart. She was glad the lights were off in the house. Maybe whoever was there would assume she wasn’t home and leave.
Then the banging came again, this time even harder. She flinched, her hand tightening around her gun warming the cool metal as the door shook in its sturdy frame. God, whoever it was must be strong. She wished like hell she had a peephole or even a window at the door but she had neither. The nearest front window only showed as much as the driveway. The front of the house blocked the doorway from view.
Only a door stood between her and the person knocking.
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
Finally finding her voice, she called out in a hard voice, “Who’s there?” Well, she’d tried for a stern voice but it still came out sounding scared, alert.
The knocking stopped as if it never happened. Only a resounding echo and her racing heart showed she wasn’t crazy.
She heard a muffled voice, deep, unintelligible.
“What?” she said, yelling louder through the door. She wasn’t stupid enough to open it. Hell no. Her thumb traced over the small safety lever on the gun, itching to release it.
“Abbigail Krenshaw,” the deep voice said.
Her stomach fell to her knees. Fuck, what did she do now? Somehow this man, it was definitely a masculine voice, knew her name and that scared the shit out of her. She looked around, feeling as if dozens of eyes were watching her but she didn’t find any. Only her empty dark house stared back at her. The green clock from the kitchen stove still lit the kitchen up in a dim glow and nightlights in the hallway and living room were dim but showed enough light to see that no one waited to jump her.
“What do you want?”
The voice didn’t answer. All went silent. Abbigail swept her gaze around her house again as if, at any moment, a window would burst and some crazed maniac would jump through her window ready to gut her like the victim she saw this morning.
“Open this door.” It was a command, an order.
Abbigail had no intention of answering it. Instead, she slowly raised her gun, keeping her thumb near the safety, and pointed it at the door. Quietly, she backed up towards the kitchen and to her phone.
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! The knocking started again, unrelenting.
Her breath caught at the sound of cracking wood. Her eyes darted around the door trying to see a crack, but she couldn’t see any broken wood. She could have sworn she heard it crack. He knocked again, louder, the banging sound ringing in her ears amidst more splintering sounds. God, he’s breaking down the doorframe, tearing it down!
She turned and ran to the phone. She faced the door, gun ready as she dialed. Her fingers slipped in their haste, and she had to end the call and try again twice before she got the three digits dialed—911.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“A man’s trying to break into my house,” Abbigail whispered, but her voice sounded just as panicked as she felt. The knocking continued, never stopping. “Oh my god, do you hear that?”
“What’s your address ma’am?” Abby related it quickly. “Ma’am, get to a back room with a lock on it and lock yourself in there. Stay on the line. Patrol officers are on the way.”
Abby started towards the bedroom then stopped as she felt the cord to her phone pull taut. “I can’t take the phone with me. It’s not wireless.” God, she felt really stupid now. She thought the corded, old-fashioned phone was cute and trendy when she bought it. It was one of those vintage, dark yellow ones that hung on the wall. She liked it because it came from the fifties and had a certain flair to it.
“Then set the phone down but do not hang up if you can. Patrols will be there shortly.”
No sooner than the operator declared that the door shook violently.
“He’s kicking it,” she said, part in fear and part in disbelief.
Abby waited no longer. She turned and ran for the bedroom just as she heard the door burst open in an explosion of splintered wood. The front door bounced off the wall with a resounding crack just as she entered her bedroom, slamming the door closed and flipped the measly turn lock.
Her thumb swept the safety off her gun and she sprinted into her bathroom as another bang came at her bedroom door. No way would that weak wooded door last nearly as long as the front door.
She slammed the bathroom door shut, locked it and moved as far back as she could in the tight space by wedging herself between the toilet and shower. Shaking and scared out of her mind, she raised her gun, index finger poised over the trigger and waited.
BAM! BAM! CRACK!
The bedroom door slammed open. She heard it beat against her nightstand with another blow. She started praying for the police to come, and she didn’t want to be another body like the ones she found for a living. Her arms shook. As she looked down the peephole of the black gun, the hole wavered, wobbling around in waves that she tried to steady but couldn’t.
She kept waiting for him to come, kept waiting to hear the banging on the bathroom door. But it never came. A minute passed. Then another. And another.
A part of her told her to check the door, open it just an inch and peer outside. Maybe he was gone and she did have a gun after all. She could shoot if he charged at her, but the smarter part of her mind told her to wait there. Wait for the police. They shouldn’t be that long. After all, she lived close to her job and her job which was with the police department.
Sure enough, another minute passed and she could hear the faint howling of sires in the distance. As they got louder, her heart rate slowed and her muscles relaxed, but she never dropped aim no matter how hard her arms shook.
She heard men entering her house.
“Abbigail Krenshaw!” a voice shouted.
She’d never been more relieved to hear another person’s voice in her life. She collapsed against the toilet. “Mike, I’m in the bathroom!” Footsteps bounded in her bedroom but something made her stay in the bathroom. As if she had to be certain it was safe and this wasn’t all some gimmick.
A soft triple knock came at the door. “Abbigail, are you all right?”
Mike’s voice was tense, not that she was surprised. He was a sweet guy. A good cop and she’d probably just scared the shit out of him with her call. She stood on legs that didn’t feel like her own and unlocked the door. She opened it slowly, peering out as she’d wanted to before. She met his dark blue eyes and light head of hair then let the door open all the way.
He had a hard look in his eyes, the kind he used when surveying a crime scene. “You okay?” His eyes traced her quickly from head to toe ensuring all parts were accounted for.
She nodded and before she knew it, he wrapped her in his arms. It was beyond unprofessional but she hugged him back. After the insanity she just went through, the least she deserved was a hug, right?
She pulled back first and gave him a tight-lipped smile.
“Now tell me why your doors are busted in and what the hell happened.”
Abby shrugged then told him what happened. His frown got deeper and deeper as she continued. No matter how hard she tried to describe how terrifying it all was, she couldn’t. No words could describe that.
“Stay in a hotel tonight. Use cash.”
It was Abby’s turn to frown. “What? No, why?”
He lifted a dark blonde eyebrow at her. “Because you don’t have a front door.”
Her face flushed and she nodded. “Right.”
She packed a bag, being sure to put her gun in there, and changed out of her pajamas. As she left her house, she saw the detective unit making a crime scene out of her home.
Mike watched her walk to her car from the front door. She didn’t like his scrutiny or that she’d needed help like this. These were good cops and had much better cases to be working on then spending time in her house. However, Mike insisted.
This whole thing was all so bizarre. Too many questions rang in her head: who had beaten in her door, and why did he want her?
She opened her car door and tossed her hastily stuffed duffel bag into the passenger seat. Strange, she didn’t feel tired now. She felt as if she could run a mile at a full on sprint and not even be out of breath.
“Damn, hey, Abby.” Mike took a step towards her, but then stopped.
Abbigail blinked. What the... he didn’t stop, he froze. No, not just him, everything had frozen. The air that had been stirring the hair around her face stopped. The strands dropped flat against her. The trees swaying from the breeze stopped up and down the street leaning in mid-sway as if reaching for something. The voices in the house ceased. All went quiet, dark.
She felt him before she saw him. A roar filled her ears. She turned around and leaned back against the car for support. Time seemed to slow or maybe it was just her adrenaline pumping that made it seem like time slowed. What was that sound, the roar? Shoot, it was her heart racing.
“Mike!” Her one last chance for help, she called out. She darted a glance at Mike and saw him still frozen with one foot forward, his body in mid-step, and eyes locked on her, unblinking.
It dawned on her then...magic. The man coming for her was using magic. She should have realized it sooner, but she was so out of touch with it.
She felt him coming.
Spinning around, she stared at her neighbor’s dark house. Her neighbors were older and paranoid and they always kept their outdoor lights on and several inside the house at night. Now the house sat completely dark and empty looking. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized the streetlights were off too leaving everything dark with only the moon light to guide her eyes.
The man appeared before her very eyes. A cloaking spell to disguise his presence,, that took strong magic. He didn’t move towards her, just faced her from her neighbor’s yard.
Her breath caught, heart stuttered. The first thing she noticed was his eyes. The darkest eyes she’d ever seen, too dark to be human. Pitch black. Her eyes moved away from his face. Curiosity had her digging to learn more about him. Just who was this and what did he want with her?
“Abbigail Krenshaw.” Her stomach trembled at his deep voice. He had a deep voice. It could be sexy if it wasn’t so terrifying. The way he said her name was unusual too, Abb-ee-gyle Kreenshaw.
She sensed the question in his voice though she hadn’t heard the upward inflection normally there in a question. Maybe it was fear or the strangeness of everything, but she answered. “Yes.”
He started towards her. Coming closer, out of the shadows, she could see him more clearly. His long, dark hair was as black as the empty pit of his eyes. His hair came down to his shoulders but was cut unevenly at the ends, not straight. She saw ebony skin that was so dark it was to the point of being black not brown. He wore a strange looking shirt that reminded her of a tunic. It was black, knitted, long-sleeved but with an open collar, black pants, and tall black boots. None of this kept her attention for very long because as he came closer, she saw the glint of metal on his back. Two weapons, swords actually, were strapped in an X pattern across his pattern.
“What are you?” she whispered. He was handsome, tall, and looked strong enough to pick her up and snap her in two she’d bet. He also didn’t look entirely human.
He stopped so close she could feel the heat from his body. For some reason, she found she wasn’t scared anymore. Maybe it was finally seeing her pursuer, but she didn’t get the vibe that this man would slit her throat and leave her for dead. It might be dangerous, but she trusted her instincts on this. She craned her head up to see his face. No, he wasn’t handsome. He was stunning.
His hair formed from a peak at his broad forehead. He had a brusque, distinguishing nose and high cheekbones that gave a hollowed definition to his cheek line. Dark stubble covered his jaw line and chin, but underneath that she could see he had a hard, jutting chin. He had full, masculine lips with the top just thinner than the bottom. They weren’t perfect but that’s what made them even more intriguing. All of his features on closer inspection were too perfect, and they shouldn’t have formed a good-looking face. He should look too fierce, too sharp but somehow his features came together in a way that drew the eye.
“Demon,” he answered.
His voice drew her out of her inspection. She’d forgotten she’d asked him a question. He’s a demon? She knew about them. Most humans just pretended they didn’t exist or only did in a religious or mythical way, but she knew about the supernaturals. Heck, her best friend Jenna could shapeshift into a panther, and Abby had once autopsied a vampire. However, she’d never met a demon. To say they were uncommon would be an understatement.
Her mother had spoon-fed her lore of the great wars fought by the vampires against demons long ago. Weapons manufacturer and wealthy tycoon, Telal Demuzi had come out publicly when heat grew on him about his strange appearance some years ago. He’d admitted to being a demon, he’d embraced it, said he was over a thousand years old, and it’d shocked many humans. You wouldn’t think they could be shocked. Vampires were all the rage—real ones anyway. They were slowly coming out but most still lived in secluded communities across the globe. Many more had called him a liar and still believed he used makeup and hair dye to achieve his unique look. They said it was a marketing gimmick.
But, Abbigail knew better. Her best friend Jenna was a shapeshifter, something else many humans pretended didn’t exist, however many knew. Humans just didn’t seem as interested in the beings who could shapeshift. Abby had seen Jenna shift before—it was one of the most frightening and beautiful things she’d ever seen in her life.
Yet the creature before her was neither vampire nor shapeshifter nor witch for that matter. He was the stuff of nightmares.
“What do you want?”
His answer came fast. “You.”
Her stomach knotted then dropped right out of her.
A flutter moved inside her. Pleasure.
Oh, don’t be silly, Abby. He’s probably going to kill you. She should seriously not be flattered that a good-looking demon said he wanted her. It had to be hormones because she could feel the beginnings of a blush stir.
Before she could say anything, he wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders pulling her close and then she felt the earth sway at her feet. Darkness enveloped her eyes, and she went blind. Then she felt nothing under her feet. She was falling in space, seeing nothing but empty blackness and hearing nothing but her own fast breaths. The strong arm holding her drew her in tighter as her heart thumped louder in her ears.
Chapter Five
The human was different than he’d expected. The presence of magic surrounded her like a bright cloud. How could she not be using it if it was wrapped around her so? She must still be practicing. The seer must be wrong and this meant only good news for him. This meant she’d be ready to kill his mother much quicker than he’d originally thought. Perhaps with a little additional training from him she’d be ready in no time. They could leave to track the queen in as a little as a week if luck stayed with him.
Alrik shifted the slight weight of the human girl in his arms—she was a light thing—and scanned the area around him before swimming down into the lake and resurfacing in the hidden cove that lie under the slope of the beach. He rose with the human, water dripping from their hair and clothes. Thanks to the effect of porting, she still slept. Many couldn’t handle it especially for their first time.
His boots splashed in the ankle-deep water as he made his way into the blackened cave that’d become his impromptu home. He’d had many ‘homes’ since being banished by his brother Telal. Sometimes on his travels, he would find a desolate shack or old farmhouse that he’d steal a few nights away in, but the further he’d gone from the kingdom the less he saw of other people.
Not much lived outside the kingdom, and the kingdom offered the only protection against idummi attacks. They had a highly trained militia of shahoulin demon warriors—the best in the rift. The lethal venom idummi carried in their fangs would kill anything it bit unless treated promptly by someone who knew what they were doing.
Alrik hadn’t slept well in years it seemed. Since he was forced from his crown, his journey seemed to stretch on endlessly. He had no one. He’d never known how much he craved companionship, even just idle conversation, until he no longer had it.
He couldn’t even relax let alone get a full night’s rest. Not when the idummi targeted him like he’d be their next juicy snack. He’d interrogated enough idummi before ending their lives to learn his mother stood behind the attacks. He couldn’t say that surprised him. She knew he was after her and that he was shunned from his kingdom. Which only meant that she knew he wanted to kill her. Alrik had prepared the best he could for her because few were smarter and more cunning than his mother. She’d set a target on his back the moment she learned of his banishment. Now it was just a matter of time to see who died first.
Just how many idummi she’d managed to rally to her cause, he didn’t know. If his mother was one thing aside from insane, it was smart. She might have an army bigger than he could imagine. He’d just have to prepare for the worst. He did have one benefit on his side—determination. He wouldn’t stop. Nothing would get in his way until her royal wet blood slipped between his fingers.
The cove he’d chosen to use was off a small, freshwater lake in the rift. The cave was well hidden around sharp rocks and a dangerous, steep slope that led down to the water. From atop the slope it looked like it went down into the water and nothing else, but when one actually walked down the slope and swam down, the slope actually gave way underneath to a large, cavernous space.
The human mumbled to herself, her head lolling left and right. Something tightened in his gut as he looked at her. He didn’t like it. Gazing upon her stirred something deep inside of him.
Alrik cursed.
Who was she to try to compete with his Arianna? She was no Arianna. Arianna was a goddess. Beautiful, shining, dark black hair fell down to her slender waist and a graceful figure and demeanor that could only be obtained with the best of haute, aristocratic blood in her veins. This human looked nothing like his Arianna. She had hair the color of wet dirt. It looked thin and not heavy like Arianna’s hair. She had wide hips and more curves than Arianna, but Arianna didn’t need blatant curves. Her graceful figure brought about attention alone.
Simply put, she wasn’t his Arianna.
Then why did his gut clench just looking at her?
Too long without a woman, maybe. His gaze trailed over her form once more taking in the slight span of her waist and the flare of her hips. The sight stirred something hot buried deep inside him. He wondered how she’d feel pressed tight against him…bare skin to bare skin.
His cock hardened like steel.
Enough!
Alrik charged into the dark cave. He didn’t need his sight in his place; he knew it like the edge of his sword. He went far back into the cave, sidestepping the fire pit he’d made before he’d left to find the human. Then he dropped the human on the sandy floor. He wasn’t gentle about it and she gave him the response he’d been looking for. Her eyes shot open, mouth forming a big circle as pain pinched her features. She let out a low, husky groan that did nothing to alleviate the pressure in his groin.
“What the hell,” she groaned, turning on her side to rub her back.
“We will talk now.”
She hadn’t been aware of him, he realized. Now she was. Slowly her head fell back, her eyes turned up to meet his. Recognition dawned slowly. Her eyes darted wildly around the cave filling with panic and fear. She stood in a rush then wobbled on her feet. Panic had her in its grip. She swung her arms out, found the wet cave wall with a hand and then leaned towards it to steady herself, pressing both hands against it.
“What the hell’s going on? Oh my god, where am I?”
“Be quiet. I will talk and you will listen. Do you understand?” He hadn’t met a human in years. In his previous experience, some were smart and others not so much. He hoped his salvation didn’t lie in a daft girl who looked entirely too young to have the amount of power the seer spoke of.
She turned and glared at him. The spark of anger was good, and the cleverness he spotted in her eyes even better. Good, she wouldn’t be daft.
“Excuse me? How about you tell me who you are, demon, where I am, why I’m here, and what you want with me?” She crossed her arms and set her light green eyes on him.
Alrik had the distinct urge to stalk over to her and tower over her just to see her quiver in fear. She will learn her place soon enough. Her attitude would go even quicker. He was a king, and some lowly human would not treat him like a servant.
Alrik straightened and let the darkness in his heart bleed out to the air around him, stifling it, biting out the oxygen she so desperately need. The human sensed his magic. Her eyes traced the air around her as if she could see it. Maybe she could.
Then she gasped, choking. Her hands flew to her throat as she gagged, her lungs working hard to suck in air. Her knees buckled and only then did he release his magic. Stepping close to her, he looked down at her puny form with a sneer. “You do not order me around, human. Stay down or what you just felt will only be a taste of what I’ll do to you.”
When she looked up at him it wasn’t with fear as he’d expected but...anger. Alrik took a step back, then another. He had to stay away from her. Maybe she was more dangerous then he’d originally given her credit for. She had fight in her. She wasn’t stupid and she wasn’t easily scared. Hmm... Maybe this could turn out to be in his favor. Having a strong witch under him, a smart one even, would be much better than a weak one. She wouldn’t cower in fear when she saw her first idummi demon, which she surely would see many of during their journey.
“Good, your lack of fear gives me some confidence that you’ll do after all.”
“For what?” she spat, her eyes glaring fiery hatred at him.
He loved the look. His body absorbed the hatred and when he sucked in a deep breath, he almost felt fuller, more whole, and some feeling close to happiness. He loved the hatred as much as it loved him. He smiled bearing his teeth. “You’ll aid me in killing my mother.”
She choked in surprise, her eyes flying wide and jaw dropping. He could see the edge of her pink tongue and jerked his gaze away as a blaze of something wrong flew through him. Kneeling by the fire pit, he set to work stacking logs and began lighting them with a quick spell. He needed something to do other than stare at her. Something unsettled him when he looked at her.
“Excuse me, camp master, but I’m not helping you kill anyone. Where am I?”
He waited until all the logs caught and the orange glow lit up the cavern. His gaze caught on her face. She wasn’t beautiful like Arianna, but something about her was pleasant to look at he just couldn’t put his finger on it yet. Overall, she almost looked plain, simple even, but something about him stirred him.
“You’re good to look at too that will make things easier,” he said.
Her face scrunched, then relaxed, and then scrunched again. “What?”
He shrugged and then pulled his swords off his back laying them next to him, but away from her in case she got any ideas. “A pleasant face is easier to look at than an ugly one.”
Her mouth dropped open again. She did that a lot, he noticed. Her entire face was active, flashing from one emotion to the next at any moment. It’d make her easy to read. He smiled into the fire. The seer might just earn a reward after his mother’s ashes were burned to crisp. He’d chosen a worthy witch it seemed.
“Answer my questions, demon,” the little witch said. A hint of threat lingered in her words. He’d tolerate her insolence for a little longer. She’d realize her place soon enough.
“Stay silent and hear me well, human—”
“I have a name,” she cut in.
His fists clenched. “Do. Not. Interrupt. Me.” He waited until she slumped against the wall before he continued. “I was told by the seer that you will be the one to kill my mother. I thought I could do it, but that’s not the case. With the curse on me—”
“You’re cursed?” She didn’t look angry so much as curious. Her eyes skimmed over him leaving him unsettled. He fought the urge to cover up his darkened skin, to turn away from her.
“Don’t look at me.” He hadn’t meant to say it. It had been a knee-jerk reaction. He could do nothing to take back his words though.
She scoffed. “Really, I can’t do that either? Get real, demon.”
Inwardly, he breathed a sigh of relief that she didn’t notice his revealing words. “I am very real, I assure you, human. My name is King Alrik and you will call me thus. As to where you are, leave it said that you’re in the rift—the demonic nether-realm.”
Her head fell to the side. “A king? Really?” Her eyes rolled in a way that sparked irritation. “Come on just take me home and I won’t press charges.”
Now Alrik frowned in confusion. “How do you press a charge? You’re speaking nonsense, human.”
Her face flashed with annoyance, her small shapely mouth pinching together. “That means I’ll go to the police, you know the authorities.”
God, maybe he had been wrong. She might just be daft after all. “Abbigail Krenshaw if you think your human police as you call them could ever contain me, you’d be very wrong.”
She started to say something, then slammed her mouth closed and leaned back against the wall with a defiant cross of her arms.
“Fine, continue your little story then.”
He stiffened as anger flowed through him. She thought to speak to him as if she had control of this situation? He took a deep breath as anger filled his blood thick and hot like syrup, warming his cold body. The rush of it went to his head like a bolt of lightning, quickening his senses. “You will kill my mother.”
“Why?” she shot back.
“To remove the curse that binds me.” He’d already considered the other part of the seer’s words and figured it better not to reveal the probable ending to the human’s life. Knowing she’d die in the process would not help her decision to join his cause.
“What kind of curse is it?”
Alrik jerked his sword into his lap and pulled out a smooth rock from his pocket. Bending over the blade in the firelight, he began pressing the stone to the edge of the blade and slowly dragging it down in long strokes. The soothing motion of sharpening his blade helped him to think. He hadn’t planned to reveal his curse to her. It brought about too many problems, problems he didn’t want to think about. His blade hissed over the metal.
