The Warlord (Rise of the Warlords 1)

For the first time, the thought brought no triumph.

Tone flat, he told his brother, “I’ll keep the key.”

Ian held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I thought you should know the harpy rigged traps throughout the palace.” He reached over his shoulder to pluck a large, bloody shard of glass from his flesh. “I met with each of the men this morning. Silver was shocked every time he flipped a light switch. A floorboard caved in and sliced Roux’s tendon. Knobs fell off doors every time Halo touched one. A chandelier came down on my head. Twice.”

An inventive and interesting strategy. None of his other brides had sought to annoy everyone to death. Roc ignored the sliver of pride working through him.

“The harpy doesn’t play nice,” his brother said, amused rather than angry.

“I’ll deal with her after I’ve completed this section of the altar.” He knew just what to do...

“Also,” his brother said, “I should probably mention she visited the prisoners earlier today. The whole group plans to swipe a realm key from Roux, and they aren’t being secretive about it.”

His lips twitched. He had to admire Taliyah’s initiative. He’d threatened to destroy the duplicate realm, and she’d launched a search and recover mission as soon as possible.

Only another Astra brandished the strength and talent to steal from Roux. Especially when he didn’t carry the item in question. Astra were the keys.

“What is she doing now?” he asked, doing his best to hide the intensity of his curiosity.

“After spending hours searching the palace with the crystal, she set up camp in the kitchen. I asked her what she was cooking, and she told me she couldn’t speak to me without angering her snookiems, but if she were able to speak with me, she’d tell me she’s making an elaborate meal for her pookie bear. Obviously, she’s poisoning your food.”

Snookiems? Pookie bear? Ian was right. She was absolutely poisoning Roc’s food. A disappointing and familiar play. Many brides had gotten their hands on toxins and venoms. Not that they’d had any luck. No matter the toxin or venom, the Astra were immune. They created worlds. They were poison, and they were remedy.

He’d expected Taliyah to physically assault him. He’d...hoped.

“Did she search for someone specific?” Her mother, sisters and cousins lived in another realm. People who would mourn her death. A thought he’d never allowed himself to entertain during his other marriages. A thought he dismissed. Doesn’t matter. Can’t matter.

“I’d guess yes. The more rooms she searched, the more frustrated she appeared.”

Perhaps he’d do a hunt of his own. If any of her relatives visited Harpina the day of the invasion, he’d peg them by sight alone. The mother and cousins had accompanied her that day in the market. The sisters he’d spotted only once, later that day. He could use the females as leverage. Or a gift?

A gift, Commander? Who are you?

As he stood, aggression prickled his nape. Ian felt it, too, and they tensed in unison. Someone prepared to launch an attack. Taliyah?

Just as his blood heated with excitement, a whoosh and a whistle sounded. He reached up, catching the shaft of an arrow, then cast his gaze over the garden. There. His excitement fizzled. Not Taliyah but a vampire hiding in the shade. Another harpy consort?

The bloodfiend launched a second arrow, but Roc caught it, too. With a toss and a sigh of disappointment, he returned both missiles to the vampire. Another whoosh and whistle, only faster and deadlier. The first arrow sank into the vampire’s left eye. The second embedded in the right.

As the screaming man toppled, Ian flashed to his side. With a single swipe of his claws, the vampire forfeited his head.

Ever since Ian lost the Commander’s helmet, he’d meted swift deaths to any who challenged him. He never hesitated to make a kill.

He returned to Roc, the severed head in hand. “Shall I display this on the front lawn with the others?”

He gave a clipped nod, but Ian didn’t flash. He lingered, uneasy, as if something of grave importance plagued him.

“What?” Roc asked and heaved a sigh.

“Do you...maybe, perhaps, I don’t know—” Ian massaged the back of his neck “—want a chastity belt of your own?”

Are you kidding me? Roc dropped his chin, a bull ready to charge. “Do you angle to lose your tongue? If I can’t resist the urge to penetrate one little snarpy, I don’t deserve to lead the most powerful army in existence.”

“Are you sure?” his brother asked, mimicking Taliyah. “Allow me to demonstrate a scene from yesterday’s dinner theater. In the role of Roc...” Ian banged his chest and growled, “I told you what happens when you provoke an Astra. Now I’ll show you. Me Commander.” He snickered. “Oh, and there’s been no sign of phantoms. Not that you asked about our safety or anything.”