The Darkest King (Lords of the Underworld 15)

Bjorn’s rainbow eyes glittered. For a moment, William wondered if the Sent One had ties to unicorns. Then he recalled Bjorn’s title: Last True Dread. No, Bjorn came from one of the most violent species in history, the Dreads. They’d had colorful eyes, too.

Getting his head in the game, William cut down another Warrior—who began to rebound—and performed a mental rundown of the facts. Eight Warriors. Six males, two females. The Elite hung back. One blinded, able to heal any moment. No sign of Axel. If anyone makes a move toward Sunny, they will die, consequences be damned.

Flaming swords came at him from every direction. He struck and ducked, his skin blistering. William could withstand normal, natural fire without injury and pain, but he could not withstand the purification, or cleansing fires of the heavens. The heat invaded his blood, his bones, his marrow. He felt as if he burned to ash from the inside out.

Careful to avoid direct contact, William drove his opponents away from the bed, toward a specific portrait across the room. The one of him—naked, of course—holding a keyboard in front of his junk.

What his uninvited guests didn’t know? The keyboard was imbued with magic. I planned for every kind of invasion, setting traps accordingly. These rats had no idea they’d entered a viper’s den—the viper—and they had no idea of the evil he could unleash. But they would.

When he reached another discarded dagger, he swooped down to grab it. As he straightened, he hurled the blade at the painting, the tip embedding in the S key. Instantly, spikes popped up from the floor.

Grunts and groans. Shock and pain. The Sent Ones wavered on their bleeding feet, trying to avoid more of the spikes. When that failed, they used their wings to hover.

The massive size of their wings coupled with the limited space hobbled his opponents. Or so he’d expected. In reality, the battle escalated, the Sent Ones swarming him from the air.

One of the Warriors glanced at Sunny. Enraged, William maneuvered behind him and slicked a dagger across his throat. Heal from that. Gurgling blood, Slit Throat released his sword of fire. It vanished as he fell. With a heavy thud, he crashed to the floor.

Not a fatal blow, but a painful one. One down, seven to go.

Defending against blow after blow, he worked his way back to the bed, where he picked up yet another discarded dagger. With one toss, he hit the W key. A secret panel opened on a bedpost, two short swords at the ready.

On the offensive, William gripped the swords’ hilts and jumped back into the fray. As quickly as he moved, the others struggled to track his movements, allowing him to stab one after another as they searched for him. Streams of crimson streaked the floor, the walls.

What must Sunny think of him? Was she disgusted by his ferocity? She must be. He kept hurting beings known for their compassion and kindness...to anyone other than demons, vampires and witches.

Bjorn spun in midair and flared his wings as far as they could go, clearly ready to take over. Bone hooks protruded from the golden feathers. “You...will...pay.”

One hook sliced through William’s cheek. Another cut his shoulder, sending him flying back. A wall stopped him, knocking the air from his lungs. A moment of dizziness. He blinked rapidly, attempting to clear his line of sight.

Sensing the approach of a female, he turned to the side—just in time to watch Sunny lift and aim a gun. She winked at William as she squeezed the trigger. Boom! The scent of gunpowder saturated the air, the bullet nailing the female in the heart.

Safe to say she’s not disgusted by me. William barely had the strength to look away as he fought off another Sent One.

He wanted back inside that body.

Focus. Two others struck at him simultaneously. He went low, raking his claws across their torsos, injecting his Hell venom. This time, they would stay down.

Their soft screams of agony enraged two other Sent Ones, who’d recovered and now swung their flaming swords faster.

They received a dose of venom, too. They also stayed down.

William dematerialized, flashing behind his next challenger, pushing the male into a Sent One already swinging her sword. An arm plopped to the floor, minus its body.

Slash. Jab, jab. Kick.

“Go, William!” Sunny called, still excited. “You’ve got this, baby!”

Empowered by her cheers, he threw an elbow and focused on the Elite. “Tell me what you think I did,” he bellowed, “or I stop playing nice.”

“You tell me where she is!” Bjorn’s words lashed like a cat-o’-nine-tails. He lunged at William.

Slash, parry. “She who?”

Slash, slash. “As if you do not know!”

“I don’t.” William gave his wings a hard flap, jumped up and kicked out, nailing an approaching Warrior in the nose. Cartilage snapped, and blood spurted. William didn’t lower, not right away, but twisted to hurl a dagger between the man’s eyes.

As the victim dropped, William opened a portal directly behind him. The male fell through...and reappeared directly in front of William. He grabbed the bastard by the hair, holding him in place.

The last Warrior, a female, had already swung her sword in William’s direction and couldn’t stop her momentum. The sharp metal slicked through her brethren’s abdomen, his intestines spilling out.

This was the second time he’d led her to hurt her brethren. Horror contorted her features, and she paled.

He tossed the body at her, throwing her across the room. She slammed into the wall and slid to the rug. To keep her down, he tossed his remaining dagger, pinning her in place.

Eight down, only the Elite to go.

“That’s what you get!” Sunny shouted at the body.

He met Bjorn’s gaze and slowly lowered to his feet. As they circled each other, he said, “I’m guessing the ‘her’ in question is Fox the Executioner.”

Bjorn swung the sword, once, twice, then parried as William made a counterstrike. “We saw you stab and take her.”

“Not me. I haven’t stabbed a woman...today. Or I hadn’t.”

They plowed into furniture, overturning side tables and chairs. Vases shattered, shards flying. The Sent One had skill. He fought like a demon, going for the eyes, throat and groin. The kind of fighting William respected.

The other male grated, “Do you think to convince me Axel is to blame?”

“No doubt it was Lucifer. He must have shape-shifted to look like me,” William grated right back. “The same way he shape-shifted into Axel to attack me.”

“You lie!”

“Often. But think, you fool. All Sent Ones have the ability to taste lies. What do you taste right now?”

Bjorn’s eyes widened, and his motions slowed. Finally, he lowered his sword, the flames dying. He cast his gaze over the carnage and withered. When he landed on Sunny, he withered further. She perched at the edge of the bed, dressed in William’s T-shirt, glaring murder at the Sent One.

William yanked on his leathers, his motions so forceful he nearly ripped the material. “Tell me everything,” he snapped.

The Sent One hung his head. “I’d done it. I’d captured her. Fox was my prisoner.” Pain coated his words. Was that...lust glowing in his eyes? The Sent One wanted the one who’d killed ten of his brethren? Good luck with that. “She ran from me, and you—Lucifer caught her, stabbed her in the gut and vanished with her.”

Nothing good ever happened in Lucifer’s company. Fox would not escape unscathed.

“Apologize to Sunny and vow not to kill Fox,” William said, “and I’ll consider helping you get her back.”

He expected protests from the Sent One. Immortals had their pride, after all, but Bjorn immediately pivoted to Sunny.

“I apologize for frightening you, for damaging your bedroom and threatening your man.”

She narrowed her eyes. “How dare you! I was never frightened.”

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William fought to maintain a stern expression.

Bjorn pivoted back to him and said, “I cannot vow I won’t kill Fox. The order for her death came from Clerici himself. But I will vow not to kill her without first coming to speak with you. Agreed?”

A halfway decent compromise, considering the severity of Fox’s crimes. Besides, William suspected the male would convince his king to let the female live. That lust...

Yeah. Bjorn had it bad for his prisoner.

“Very well. Agreed.” Axel should be pleased. The things I do for family.

“Tell me where Lucifer keeps—” Bjorn canted his head to the side, then rushed to the window to peer outside. William followed and saw a bloody, wounded Fox crawling into camp, cursing anyone who attempted to aid her. “Never mind.” Without another word, the Sent One rushed from the bedroom.

“You’re just going to leave the bodies in here?” Sunny shouted after him.

Another set of footsteps sounded. William flashed to Sunny, assuming Bjorn had decided to come back and finish what they’d started. But it was Axel who stalked into the room to scan the sea of unconscious, bleeding Sent Ones. Flames of rage danced in his baby blues.

“They had it coming,” William snapped, already on the defensive.

“I know,” was the reply, shocking him. “Had I known what they planned, I would have stopped them. I only just returned from a meeting in the heavens. When I heard what was happening,” Axel said, his tone hardening with every word, “I came running. Thank you for the vote of confidence, though.”

Wonderful. He’d just tainted his relationship with his brother with suspicion and anger. William popped his jaw. What would go wrong next?