Fire Unleashed (Reign of Fae Book 3) Read online

  “Your friends are in no immediate danger.” He gave her a sly smile that announced he took extreme pleasure when he fed. “But the sooner we agree on our next course of action...the better.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Chloe?” Laszlo had a sorrowful look on his face. “Bram? Is he…”

  Chloe could have kicked herself. The last her friends knew of Bram, he had been dying from the sword wound to his gut. “He’s alright...he’s just.” She was at a loss for words. How could she tell her friends Bram gave up his reign of a realm they didn’t even know existed? As they celebrated, how could she tell them Bram was the Horseman of War, but one of the good guys, and had sacrificed his freedom for her? “Sorry, Laszlo. Things got complicated. He’s okay. He’s just...not himself right now.”

  “Isn’t he?” Mordecai challenged.

  Laszlo gave a slow nod. “Well, at least he’s alright.”

  Just then, Tenebris’ screams and caws came from outside.

  Chloe rushed to the backyard with Mordecai fast on her heels.

  Tenebris was reeling in pain and rolling uncontrollably on the ground. Red runes glowed from under his feathers so bright Chloe had to shield her eyes. His tortured screams were gut wrenching. She felt sick to her stomach and had no idea what to do for the massive raven.

  Suddenly, all his movement stopped and the light from his runes faded. Tenebris slowly got up, looked at Chloe, and gave a small sorrowful cry before shooting straight up into the air and disappearing.

  It was that small sorrowful cry that had Chloe’s heart in the pit of her stomach.

  “I hate being right,” Mordecai’s voice was somber and heartfelt.

  “Wh...what?” His words pulled Chloe from her own worst thoughts.

  “Pawns, remember?” Mordecai shook his head as if defeated. “At least now we know who was sacrificed.”

  No! Chloe’s mind was reeling. She hoped Mordecai was wrong about the witches being pawns in the royals’ game. Not Mary! But her gut was telling her, he was right. “I can’t think straight in this fucking fitted gown. I need to change and then you’re taking me to the Spree!” Chloe demanded.

  “First, only if I can watch, and second, why?” Mordecai didn’t seem to feel the same urgency she did.

  “I need to find out what happened to Mary. And if you haven’t noticed, my ride just flew off.”

  “What makes you think I can get you there?”

  “You didn’t leave Fae too long before Tenebris and I did, so please don’t insult my intelligence. I know you have some way to travel between realms quickly...you have to.”

  “Primus should be our priority.”

  “Bram,” she corrected, “is the priority, but without Mary’s help, I don’t know how to bring him back. I don’t even know if I can bring him back!” Chloe was on the verge of breaking down and crying. She was devastated to know Bram may have intentionally sacrificed Mary and the other witches to save her world. He could have easily relinquished his reign to Avery for both worlds to be free of fae interference, but he hadn’t. Chloe wanted to know why, but right then, Mary needed her help. A sudden wave of guilt hit her. She continued to stare at the space Tenebris had just occupied. Her thoughts were racing.

  “It’ll be alright, love. We’ll get him back.” Mordecai tried to console her, but he didn’t attempt to touch her. He kept a respectable distance which surprised Chloe. “I wouldn’t think of insulting your intelligence.”

  “Will you take me to the Spree or not?”

  Mordecai gave her a long drawn out sigh before he finally answered. “Yes.”

  “Good.” Chloe walked back towards the late Professor’s house. “Thank you.” she said, preoccupied with what horrible fate Mary may have met in her absence. Tenebris had insisted they head straight to the Spree after their escape from Fae, but Chloe hadn’t listened. What if her defiance had gotten Mary hurt? Or killed?

  “Of course.” He gave her a dimpled grin, but it soon faded as she turned and faced him.

  A gush of fury and vitriol washed over Chloe. Her body vibrated with an anger and hatred she’d never known before. “Bram’s our priority. But for what he’s done...the witches…” Chloe’s words became garbled and her voice trailed off unexpectedly. The last memory she had of Fae and Bram in his Horseman form enveloped her. She’d never known such horror as his dragon hunted her down, setting fire to the sky, searching for her, with only one thing driving him forward...kill. All hope of getting Bram back faded away in that moment. He had been taken over by his beast and worst of all, Bram had let it happen. Chloe knew it. She had seen Bram’s inner light fade from his eyes the moment he impaled his hand on the obelisk monument sword. There was nothing left of the Bram she knew and it made her furious. The change had happened so quickly. War had consumed him. Bram had proved weak, loving her was a weakness, and he allowed it to become a vulnerability. He’d been cowardly for leaving the Spree witches defenseless without so much as a word to protect them. The dragon was so much stronger, powerful, and in essence...deemed worthy of dominance as the two had battled. Bram was lost to her. Chloe could only hope that War would never find his way to her world. She knew the Horseman in all his glory and rage would make the scorch look like a papercut compared to the deep festering gash of global annihilation he could unleash. She wondered if the swarm of scabs chasing War through the air in Fae had been real. Had they caught him, tearing his flesh from his bones as he healed over and over again? Or had he been transported to the Horsemen realm by Little Blue? The illusions and reality had mixed together during her escape from Fae. Where ever he was, he deserved to be stewing in his own remorse, rage, and self-loathing as penitents for what he’d done.

  “Chloe, did you hear me?” Mordecai furrowed his brow. “What did you say about your Bram?”

  She stared the vampire down just as cold, steely, and heartless she knew a Horseman would. “I said let him rot.”

  2

  Shedding Old Skins

  Hunt. Kill. Feed! The massive dragon grumbled, trying to rouse himself from sleep to sate his hunger. The beast wanted to spread his wings and soar through the sky in search of prey, longing to inhale the fear of any who dare lay in his path, and exhale furious flames on anything in his way. He needed to feed, to snuff out the intruder’s thoughts, and keep him at bay. But the dream was too strong. The man within him, Primus, was too strong. The persistent fae royal’s memories penetrated the dragon’s thoughts again, and pulled him back under...

  “Primus, where are you?” Famke brushed the tall grass aside as she searched for him.

  Primus had to keep from giggling as his sister scoured the meadow for him in vein. Fae and Betray was their favorite game, even if Mortimer thought they were too old to still be playing.

  He concentrated and created an echo of a noise far from where he was hiding.

  Famke tracked the sound, but she didn’t fall for it. She knew her brother. “I know you’re hiding in the marsh. We’re not supposed to go in there. It’s forbidden.”

  Primus ducked out from behind one of the trees along the edge of the marsh as Famke turned away. “Rawr!”

  She jumped. “Stop doing that!” Scolding him, she slugged him in the arm.

  He feigned being injured for his little sister.

  “You know that means you forfeit...again.”

  “I can’t help it. It’s just too funny to watch you jump...again and again.”

  “Why are we playing so close to the marsh? Papa said--”

  “Avery’s in there. She comes here sometimes to get away from her father and brother. I think she’s worried about the blood ceremony. Help me find her?”

  Famke nodded eagerly. “Why would she be worried about naming for her Court?” The naive wide-eyed raven haired young girl asked.

  “Because it’s going to change everything.” Avery’s voice resonated around them. “I won’t be one of you anymore.” The young lavender-blonde beauty wiped the tears from her cheeks.

>   “Don’t say that, Avery, we’ll always be friends. We’ll always be family, no matter what.” Famke ran over and hugged her friend, pulling her out of the forbidden marshlands.

  “It won’t be the same.” Avery sounded defeated.

  “Then don’t do it.” Primus offered, taking one of her hands as Famke held the other. “Choose for yourself, defy your father.”

  “And then what? You don’t know what he’ll do. I can’t. You have no idea what he’s like when he...”

  All three of them were silent after that. They sat in a circle in the meadow, enjoying each other’s company, and the warm sun on their skin. Famke picked wildflowers, twisting them into halos for Avery’s hair and her own.

  When anointed with her sweet smelling crown, Avery vowed they’d never see her cry ever again. Pretending to have ascended to the throne by a unanimous vote from all three of their ruling parents, she also decreed there shall be no more tears shed throughout the entire kingdom as her first law as queen. “Only happiness and laughter.” She smiled at her friends.

  “There you are.” Mortimer came over the hill. “What are you doing all the way out here? Wait, no, let me guess...Fae and Betray?”

  Avery’s smile turned into a cold stoic frown.

  “How ever did you find us all? By the Gods, I do believe that means you’ve won, Mortimer.” Famke smiled at him. “...this round anyway.”

  She and Avery put their foreheads together affectionately and giggled.

  “Anyway, father wants us home before dark. He has that little lesson in caste hierarchy prepared for tomorrow. Remember?” Mortimer hinted to his sister.

  “Oh do tell. I love a good secret.” Famke beamed at Mortimer. “Who’s been naughty?”

  Primus chuckled to himself at how easily his own sister always manipulated Mortimer to get what she wanted from the smitten boy. They had heard the rumors that the ruler of the Light Court had grown restless and had something major planned on his own, but details were sparse, and no one in his inner circle was talking. So, what better way than to manipulate his son, Mortimer, into spilling everything than in a real-life game of Fae and Betray? Hiding in the forest from each other was done out of pure youthful joy, but this was Famke’s favorite game.

  “The whispers grow strong enough to act regarding the overstep by the Vampire Caste. Father intends to teach them a lesson is all.” Mortimer invaded their circle and positioned himself between Famke and Avery. “But persuade me and I’ll tell you everything.” He stroked the back of Famke’s hand as he sat down.

  She slapped it away. “Fine, don’t tell us.”

  He paid her rejection no mind and put his arm around his sister possessively instead. With his other hand he conjured an elaborate and gaudy crown of hideous flowers and offered it to Avery.

  She looked down and obediently took off the halo of wildflowers and replaced it with her brother’s crown.

  He conjured another and tried to hand it to Famke.

  She refused, pointing at her own halo of wildflowers atop her head. “Don’t forget Primus.” Famke suggested instead.

  “No, we can never forget Primus, can we?” The name dripped with hatred from Mortimer’s tongue. His jealousy penetrated the air around them, but the three remained silent.

  Primus shrugged and took Avery’s discarded halo and Mortimer’s unwanted crown and placed them both on his head. “How do I look? Ready for when it’s our turn for the four of us to rule?”

  “Smashing.”

  “Fabulous.” The girls giggled.

  Mortimer remained stoic.

  Primus knew that Mortimer loathed being the girls’ least favorite of the two boys and that disdain would only grow as they gained power. It was also why the three of them, Primus, Famke, and Avery, had secretly made a pact to give Primus controlling rule and tie breaking votes when the four of them ascended to the thrones. Avery had warned them that Mortimer was becoming too much like her father. She feared him and knew she would never be strong enough to stand against him alone. But Primus was, and he had the backing of his adoring sister. So the three had planned and plotted in their real game of Fae and Betray.

  “Tell us your secret or be gone, Mortimer. I grow tired of your presence since you refuse to play with us.” Famke sighed.

  “Hhmm?” He feigned innocence to her inquiry as he twirled a curl of Avery’s hair between his fingers.

  Avery waived her hand over her hideous crown and changed it to resemble Famke’s beautiful wildflower halo.

  Primus followed suit and the gaudy conjured flowers atop his head disappeared, leaving only Famke’s handmade wreath.

  “Fine.” Mortimer harrumphed. “Father learned the vampires have indeed broken the accords. He has proof.”

  “What?” Avery seemed surprised, proving, even she hadn’t been told.

  “Where’s the proof?” Famke feigned not believing him.

  “There’s an entire realm of it. They’ve been secretly attempting to increase their numbers in the earthen realm.”

  “Ha! With those vile creatures they call humans? They are so uncivilized, an infestation on their world.” Famke taunted.

  “What does he plan to do?” Primus worried.

  “He intends to put a stop to it with or without your parents’ consent.”

  “Pish-posh politics. Leave the boring details to the adults.” Famke waved off Mortimer’s threat. “Your father’s ways are much more fun. How does he plan to stop them?” She demanded to know sweetly, touching his hand.

  “Just a little pandemic introduced to the human realm. He says it will do quite nicely, destroying the threat along with sending a message to any future coup attempts, by any caste...”

  “Killing millions?” Primus tried to control his anger and display ambivalence instead.

  Mortimer nodded. “Along with the vampire’s abominations, yes.”

  Famke gave Primus a look of warning not to say more. She never understood his fascination with the underdeveloped human species, let alone his loyalty to the Vampire Caste. “I take it your father’s campaign has a name. It has to. Thwarting the vampire’s insurrection has to be remembered. What is it?” She prodded Mortimer for more information.

  Mortimer straightened his posture, full of pride in his father’s defiance of the other royals. “He calls it The Black Death and it will be glorious!”

  3

  Mirror, Mirror

  “Take it off.” Mordecai ran up the stairs after Chloe. He followed her into the bedroom before she could start to undress.

  Every hair of Mordecai's dark brown waves was in place, even the shadow adorning his chiseled jawline was trimmed to perfection. The man took great care in his appearance, which only added an elegance to the air of command he wielded.

  Chloe’s heart quickened without her consent. Uncontrollably drawn to the vampire in that moment, she tried to focus, ignoring the seductive lure she found herself enraptured by. “Excuse you? Get o--”

  “The Horseman blade you so gallantly threatened me with, you have it on you, yes?” He cut her off and didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s amplifying your emotions, your anger. Take it off right now.”

  “No, and get out before I--” Mordecai was walking backwards away from her, his eyes darted down swiftly, and he raised his hands in surrender. Chloe followed his gaze. Bram’s ancient weapon was ablaze in her hands. She didn’t remember releasing it from its holster or calling the blade. She looked back to Mordecai.

  “It wants to be back with its master. You’re enraged. That’s not like you, right? You’re all but letting it divide the two of you in the hopes of getting what it wants however it can.”

  She tried to concentrate, remembering what she’d been thinking before being consumed by hate and lust. Mary. The Blood Reaping Quincentennial. That horrible chase. Why didn’t you tell me your entire plan? Chloe had been furious with Bram and didn’t want anything to do with him. What had I say? Let him rot?

  Her stomach twisted
in knots. Loathing Bram and an unthinkable desire for Mordecai began to coalesce in her mind once more. What he said had to be true. She gathered all her will, retracted the blade, and replaced it in its holder. Chloe could feel the dull fogginess that had invaded her thoughts being lifted. Breaking through the strands of unfamiliar emotions within her consciousness, she unstrapped the holster from her thigh and threw it onto the bed like it had been a spider crawling on her skin. She crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed her hands over the cold bare skin on her shoulders. A chill washed over her as though a spirit or demon had been possessing her body and was vanquished as soon as she discarded the sword. The disorienting cloud of confusion surrounding her mind slowly started to dissipate. She felt nauseous, but more like herself again. What the hell was that?

  Mordecai must have seen the change in her demeanor and recognized that she was back in control of her emotions. He gave her a slight smile. Not like the overtly sexual grins he’d been lavishing her with. This one seemed genuine and kind.

  Chloe felt naked and exposed without the sword, just as vulnerable as the sword looked lying on the bed, unguarded. A jolt of panic shot through her. She looked from the blade over to the vampire watching her every move. Her eyes went wide with worry, thinking he would take the Horseman weapon for himself.

  His eyes narrowed into slits and in one swift move he had the blade in his hand and was standing right in front of her.

  “Never mistake a predator’s kindness for weakness!” Mordecai’s body vibrated with a mixture of desire and anger. His animalistic bloodlust seemed to be getting the better of his usual sophisticated demeanor. He looked down at the weapon longingly, as though it were calling to him to do its bidding. Blinking several times he focused. “And I’ll try and remember that your humanity is not an inferiority.” Like flicking off a light switch, he composed himself. “I could have just as easily overpowered you downstairs and taken this from you then, but I didn’t.” Mordecai flipped the handle around as though the sharp blade was extended and safely held it out to her. “Remember that.”