Wicked Abyss (Immortals After Dark 18)

"Indeed?" He shared a laugh with his courtiers before addressing her again. "I'm a warrior king, and you're . . . you. We all know you're better suited to modeling ball gowns and traipsing across a dance floor."

Lila smiled pleasantly. "And still I'll make a better ruler than you."

"You continue to look at me as if I am the villain. You have yet to understand that I did what I had to in order to protect Sylvan."

"Say that were true, you have yet to understand that if two alternatives are wrong, you don't pick the least wrong, you figure out something right. That is what makes a monarch."

She turned to address the crowd, giving him her back, hoping he'd take the bait. "I'm Queen Calliope, ruler of hell and heir to Sylvan's throne," she declared, her voice ringing. "When I defeat Saetth, you will all acknowledge my rule. Or I'll end you." She addressed the king's guard. "You'll vow fealty. Or you'll die." She told her cousins, "You'll flee this kingdom. Or you'll share Saetth's coming fate." Facing him once more, she said, "Don't challenge me, cousin."

The scepter drew his eyes again. That's it, asshole. Take the bait--

Shouts sounded from the castle's grounds. Soldiers? They were yelling for backup, the commotion growing louder. Fey archers started to fire, their bowstrings going twang, twang, twang.

Abyssian had come.

Inside, the crowd surged to the castle's arched windows to look.

"A Morior!"

"The handsome primordial!"

"Will the barrier hold?"

When a demonic battle roar carried through the night, she raised her gaze to the ceiling. "Fucker."

FIFTY-EIGHT

The castle was as protected as hell had been, an invisible shield blocking Sian's way. No tracing inside.

In front of that barrier, a line of soldiers with swords and spears mounted a defense.

Sian had charged them. All of them.

Poisoned arrows rained down from the castle's battlements, crossing the shield though he could not.

He swung his ax over and over, not to strike soldiers--but to deflect arrows. He bodily knocked down swordsmen, clearing enough of them out of the way for him to reach the barrier.

He sank his ax into the mystical shield. It wavered. Held strong.

His opponents regrouped, attacking his back. He warded off strikes, but they were fast. Soon the small number of swordsmen gave way to troops hundreds deep.

Every time he raised his ax, soldiers landed blows, piercing his torso. Pain flared over every inch of his body. Archers continued to target him. Arrows jutted from his shoulders, glancing off his skull, lacing gashes with poison.

Wings and horns would come in really fucking handy right now.

A different kind of pain erupted. In his jaw. His temples. The tips of his fingers. He chanced a look down. His hands and arms were darkening, claws protruding from his fingers. Glyphs began to glow.

He gritted his lengthening fangs when his wings burst free and his horns emerged from his head.

The guards hesitated, stunned by his transformation.

They went flying when his wings flashed out. Missed those. Seizing room to move, he swung his ax against the barrier.

Why would he return to this form? Maybe Calliope had gone cold forever. Had he lost the fire?

Just get to her. Where was she? He scanned the windows. Didn't see her amid all the fey gazing out. Another sweep of his gaze . . . There! He spied his mate just approaching the glass. She was alive! He didn't see Saetth near her.

Others seemed to dart away from her. "Lila, get out of there!"

Their eyes met. His steps faltered at her appearance. Mine. My queen. She wore . . . a crown of hell. Did she comprehend the extraordinary significance of it?

He yelled when a volley of arrows plugged him. He ducked under a spear's trajectory, narrowly missing the tip of a sword. Another glance at Calliope.

She looked uncaring as she gazed at him. No, I can't have lost her. . . .

Roaring with frustration, he rammed his horns against the shield. His bellows reverberated off it. Get to her.

With her shoulders squared, she picked up the skirt of her gown and turned her back on him.

Just like the last time he was in Sylvan. His breath shuddered from his lungs. Noooo!

While blood ran down his face, he willed her to turn back and see him. To comprehend that he would do anything for her.

Turn around, Calliope. Look--at--me!

And then . . .

She did.

Lila needed to keep her focus on Saetth, but she couldn't drag her gaze from Abyssian.

He was fighting off hundreds. He used his battle-ax--but only to hack at the barrier and ward off attacks. The blade didn't have a drop of blood on it.

His wings knocked swordsmen over like bowling pins and deflected spears. Yet he never beheaded a single fey.

She watched his wing claw stop short at one soldier's throat. Abyssian could have decapitated the male easily. Instead, he took blow after blow without killing. His blood poured as he proved himself.

The lesson of the pomegranate. He'd yearned for carnage against the fey, but he'd surrendered his need--and the look in his eyes said he expected to get her back.

That demon was so totally in love with her.

Didn't mean she wouldn't kick his ass.

In Demonish, he yelled, "Hold on!" His bloodied horns were straightened, his muscles bulging. He was magnificent. Power incarnate. His gashed skin sheened under the torch flames.

Firelight loved Abyssian.

The soldiers had regrouped. Even a Morior couldn't fend off onslaught after onslaught--not without thinning those numbers.

Multiple spears sank into his torso. He gnashed his fangs from the pain.

She yelled in Demonish, "Fight back, you idiot!"

That could not have been a hint of a grin on his face.

It disappeared when swords sliced his wings apart.

"Trace away!" Lightning flared outside, and rain started to fall. It strengthened until blood washed away from him, revealing the extent of his wounds. Dear gods.

"Behind you, Lila!"

She whirled around. The crowd was p

arting for Saetth and his courtiers to close in on her.

Abyssian yelled, "Do not challenge him! Get the fuck away from him!"

Uthyr must've told the demon her intentions--and Abyssian believed she was about to be lost once again. He battered the barrier with his horns, his blood smearing the surface.

Saetth said, "You did bring a friend, cousin. Surely that can't be the handsome hell king."

She held her ground. "I don't need help defeating you. I have this." She gestured to her scepter.

Saetth's gaze followed her every movement.

"Oh, cousin, if you try to take this from me, I vow to the Lore I will use my darkest powers to smite you down--"

He snatched the scepter from her.

The bait.

She could hear Abyssian frenziedly grappling to reach her. While Saetth laughed and gloated with his courtiers, she peered over her shoulder at Abyssian. As if in slow motion, the demon swung that ax overhead, rotating it, building momentum with all the strength in his primordial body.

Yelling, "Aim true!" he whaled the ax into the barrier. The blade ruptured it. A shock wave blasted out from the impact, leveling trees and sending fey flying.

The shield was no more.

He traced inside a split second later, weapon at the ready, drenched in rain and blood. "Lila!"

Before she could blink, Saetth had unsheathed his sword and raised it against her throat.

FIFTY-NINE

Sian quickly holstered his ax, raising his palms. That fuck was the fastest of his kind; Sian couldn't even trace to intervene.

Saetth beheaded his victims with such speed they could still be talking after the deathblow.

Calliope held herself motionless, but she didn't look afraid.

In a menacing tone, Sian said, "If you hurt her, I will snatch your godsdamned spine from your body. I'll take your throat with my teeth!"

She blasted out a thought: --I have this under control.--

Sian drew his head back in confusion.

"You are the demon husband?" Saetth said with a sneer. "Not quite the ladies' man I was expecting. Really, Calliope, there's no accounting for taste." His courtiers laughed. "I didn't think I'd get to end the king of hell today as well." Without lowering his blade, Saetth twirled a scepter. The one I gave Calliope? Voice dripping with arrogance, he said, "Tsk, cousin, was this the source of your power?"

"My source of power is my wits. Always has been." What is her plan? "Do you remember what you told me the day you exiled me?"