Blood of the Guardian (43 page)

“I’m not gone,” cooed a sickly sweet voice. “I just gave them the slip.”

Slowly, Kat and Megan turned. Jezebelle leaned against the door’s frame, her arms crossed over her chest.

Megan sucked in a breath. She was tall beyond normal height, power emanating from her skin—which glowed faintly with Guardian light.

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Jezebelle said. “But now that everyone is busy outside … Can you tell me where you keep prisoners?” Her eyes shifted to Kat, and her full lips spread into a wide grin. “Oh!” She bubbled with laughter. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Kat slid out her sword and stepped between the gypsy and Megan. “Don’t. Touch. Her.”

“Her?” Jezebelle said as she cocked her head. “Not her, my feisty little wench.
You.
”

With the blur of Speed, a new battle began. Megan staggered back, unable to assess the fight. After only seconds, it was done and Kat lay on the ground, unconscious and bleeding from the nose.

A scream stuck in Megan’s throat.

“Oh, calm down. She’s fine,” Jezebelle said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I
was
going to kill her. She did murder me, after all.” She held both hands out, one on each side of her, as if modeling a scale. “Death for a death. It’s a fair trade. However, with current circumstances, she’d serve me better alive.” Her lips pulled into a smile. “For now.”

Jezebelle’s eyes began to glow red with Strength. With one hand, she tossed Kat’s limp body over her shoulder. “I almost forgot,” she said. “Where do you keep prisoners? A tower? Or do you have a dungeon?”

“Go to Darkness!” Megan spat.

“Darkness, eh?” Jezebelle nodded. “So I suppose that means a dungeon?”

Megan shook, from both fear and emotional exhaustion.

Jezebelle smiled sweetly. “Sorry about your husband … again. It’s nothing personal. I just had to put things in their proper place.” She motioned toward Megan’s stomach. “And good luck with the baby.” Her eyes flashed golden, and she spun and disappeared with Kat.

Megan stared at the empty door, and her legs went limp. She staggered and slid down the wall. Hands shaking, she placed her head in her hands, and sobs took over. She had just gotten Emery back, and he’d died again? And poor, old Tiohan. He’d given his life for Emery. For what? He was a good man, one of the few truly kind Rol’dan. Would another sacrifice his life for Emery again?

Megan sobbed. How could she even think such a thing, hoping someone else would die to save him? And then there was the Guardian, whomever it was. Megan mourned. The Guardians were her friends.

She sniffed and raised her head. Kat was still alive, at least for now. She could find someone and get her help. Megan pushed up on trembling legs and staggered through the door and into the quiet hall. Step by step, she descended the stairs.

Chapter Forty-Two

ALEC, KAEL, AND NOLAN raced inside, following Jezebelle’s path of desolation: a murdered Healer, a dying Accuracy soldier, a crying servant in the hall.

Nolan healed the poor woman, and he scanned the hall in each direction.

“Where’d she go?” Alec asked.

Pulling on his Perception, the sounds of the castle came into focus. The kitchen staff hid in the storage room. Soldiers were running the halls. He pulled back and focused on Alec and Kael. “I’m not sure. Maybe she’s gone by now.”

Alec pulled out his sword. “I’ll check on Rayen.”

“Good idea,” Nolan said with a nod. “Kael, go outside and search for her there.”

Kael hesitated. “What about you?”

Nolan flared his Perception. “I’m going hunting.”

The metallic scent of blood filled his nostrils, also the smells of sweat and fear. He yanked back, gagging on the enhanced scents. Taking a slow breath, he tuned in again. Finally, after fishing through the putrid smells, he found what he’d been searching for: the perfume he’d smelled in the tent at the gypsy camp, a combination of lavender and cinnamon.

Nolan growled. The floral aroma permeated the castle; it would be hard to tell which way she went.

He pulled back on his Shays and examined the situation like a normal man would. It was then when he caught sight of something at the far end of the hall. Jogging toward it, he stopped short as he came upon a foot protruding from around the corner. Slowly, he followed the foot and found the body of another Rol’dan.

Sliding out his sword, he advanced.

He crept by the dead soldier and turned at another corridor, this one with red-painted walls. Nolan didn’t normally visit this side of the castle; most of the rooms and dining areas were on the east side.

This was the darker portion of Faylinn castle. Storage areas. The dungeon. He turned again and found three more dead Rol’dan, warm blood still flowing from necks sliced halfway through.

He took off, not worrying about stealth. After passing a pair of dead servants, he turned toward the dungeon. On either side of the dungeon entrance, two dying guards thrashed. Nolan stopped, surging Healing through them to staunch the flow of blood. Once he knew they’d live, he opened the door.

A Rol’dan guard burst by him from the dungeon, giving Nolan a Strength-enhanced shove before running away.

Nolan drew his attention back to the dungeon, listening. He hadn’t been down here for quite some time, not since they’d locked Alcandor away.

With a deep breath, Nolan drew on his Perception. Along with the stench of the dungeon, Jezebelle’s perfume wafted from below. He summoned all his powers, readying himself for an attack. And carefully, he descended the stairs.

After only a few steps, a voice echoed from the dungeon’s depths. “I know you’re there,” said the smooth voice of Jezebelle. “No sense sneaking about.”

Nolan slid his sword back into place and continued down. Listening. Waiting for an attack. But the only sounds he heard were the rodents scurrying across the stones.

Unlike the dungeon tower in Alton, this one descended into stone. Pounded out from the natural rocks, it had rough edges rather than smooth, formed bricks. Nolan turned a corner, and a trio of cells came into view.

Two stood empty.

In the third, Captain Ekon’s body was stretched between chains, his feet unsupported and his head resting against his chest. Dark moisture stained the front of his red tunic, and a puddle formed around his feet. Nolan tuned in his Perception. No heartbeat. No breath. The scent of blood reeked on him.

Is that why Jezebelle had come? She’d heard the stories of Ekon? The man treated Talasians horribly. Had he slighted her or abused her at some time? Nolan wouldn’t be surprised if he had. It would make sense for Jezebelle to want retribution.

He continued through the narrow passage to the deepest and strongest cells. It was narrower than he remembered. He stopped and gasped, the memory of his confinement with Jezebelle coming to head. After a few seconds of catching his breath, he squared his shoulders and continued on.

As he turned the corner, two things caught his eyes simultaneously: Alcandor’s empty cell and Jezebelle pressing a knife to Kat’s throat.

Kat whimpered as Jezebelle pushed the knife, and a thin trail of blood dripped down to her chest.

“Nolan! I didn’t—” Kat sucked in a breath, and the trickle of blood increased.

Kat?
How in the Darkness did she get Kat?
Her face was bruised and her nose was crusted in dried blood. Nolan ground his teeth.

“Where are the stones?” Jezebelle crooned.

“Let. Her. Go.” His arms trembled.
How did she get Kat?

“Why would I do that?” Jezebelle asked as if Nolan were stupid.

“If you don’t, I’ll kill you.”

She laughed. “If you try, I’ll kill her.”

Nolan clenched his fists. His eyes darted to Alcandor’s empty cell, and a tremor of caution fell on him. “Where’s Alcandor?”

“Oh, him? I let him go. Didn’t you see him? He probably walked right past you.”

Nolan’s mind swirled. How could he? Even veiled, Nolan saw a Guardian’s disguise. When his Shays were low, Jezebelle had tricked him. But now, he was full of Guardian power.

She removed the dagger from Kat’s throat. “Oh, Emissary … or Nolan? She called you Nolan, right? That Guardian power we inhaled did something to our minds. Messed with our ability to see Guardians.” She motioned toward Ekon’s cage. “Alcandor killed him before he left … did something with him too.”

Dread swelled. He’d taken Ekon’s Shay, turned the sorry sap into a Dor’Jan. Now Alcandor had Strength and would probably take more lives and more Shays. The safety of night they’d grown accustomed to the last few months was no more, especially if Alcandor created more of the abominations.

“Now,” Jezebelle said, “what were we talking about? Oh, yes. The stones.” She stroked Kat’s hair and placed the dagger back on her throat. “She killed me back at camp. I figured that a life for a life would be fair.” Her smile widened. “However, when I watched you both this afternoon, sitting on the rock, saying sweet things to each other … ” She shrugged one shoulder. “I figured this little minx would be good persuasion. Now give me the stones.”

Nolan started. She’d been spying on them? He trembled, rage pulsing from him. He’d never known anyone so selfish, so uncaring for human life, apart from Alcandor. Now even he was free.

“Why? Why free him?”

“I have my reasons. And I really need to get going. So, Nolan … give them to me.”

Kat’s eyes met his, terror leaking from her emotions. Nolan searched the possibilities. If he threw a spike, as soon as it left his hand, it would slow for Jezebelle. He could lunge with his sword, but not before she’d slit Kat’s throat. And if she did, could Nolan heal Kat and fight the gypsy wench at the same time?

Jezebelle prodded his mind, but Nolan had already fortified it.

She released a dramatic sigh. “Well?”

Nolan pulled the bag over his head and held it out to Jezebelle.

“No, Nolan!” Kat said. Jezebelle squeezed her throat, cutting off her words.

Jezebelle searched Nolan’s face, her eyes radiating violet light. “Why are you hiding your thoughts?”

“You froze me the last time I kept it open.”

“True.” She nodded. “But that was before we were friends.”

Friends?
She had a strange idea of what made a friend. His rage swelled, but he kept it off his face. “Let her go, and the stones are yours.”

Jezebelle eyed Kat and then the stones. She licked her lips, and a flicker of desire pulsed through her. Nolan shook the bag, much like tempting a cat with a string. Suddenly, she took the bait.

Nolan spun, whipping the bag from Jezebelle’s grasp. In the same movement, he dove toward Kat, pushed her into Alcandor’s cell, and slammed the door.

Jezebelle sliced the air, catching Nolan across the arm. Fiery pain erupted, but Nolan quickly healed it closed.

He pulled out his own set of daggers; the dungeon was too tight to use his sword. He parried and swiped at her. She dodged, rage spilling across her face.

“Nolan!” Kat yelled from the cell.

He ignored her; she’d be a liability more than a help.

Steel upon steel, the daggers bit and slashed. Nolan dodged and blocked with his arm, flaring his Strength to reinforce his flesh. Jezebelle growled as Nolan returned the attacks. She was good with her knives—not as good as Kardos, but she also had all the Shay powers to help.

Her mental guard weakened as anger spilled from her. Nolan flared his Empathy, jabbing her mind, but she blocked his mental blow.

“Join me,” she said.

“Why?” Nolan asked.

They locked blades, arms bent, faces inches from each other.

A slow smile spread across Jezebelle’s face. “You can help me and my father, Alcandor.”

Nolan’s mental guard fell. Like a viper, Jezebelle struck with her mind. Nolan gasped, his body freezing in place. He pulled against Jezebelle’s hold, but it was solid.

Nolan swelled his Empathy, trying to free himself, but she pushed against his mind, holding him in place. He couldn’t do anything but stand there … and die.

She clicked her tongue and slid an arm around Nolan’s shoulders. “Who said I was going to kill you?”

Nolan’s heart thundered in his ears.

Jezebelle slid the bag from Nolan’s shoulder and slung it over her own. “I do wish we could be on the same side. But of course, Father hates you. If you’d join us, he’d most likely kill you anyway—after he regains his powers.”

She ran a hand through his hair, and Nolan’s stomach turned in revulsion.

“The other women at the brothel told me the king stopped to see my mother, that Alcandor was my father.” She snorted. “They called me royalty. I never believed them. Thought they were taunting me. That is, until
this
happened.” She made a downward motion over her body. “Who else had all the powers but Alcandor? The rumors had to be true. So I came here to find out for myself. And if he
was
my father, I’d free him.” She eyed Nolan. “I’d thought that you were my brother, but then you called that Guardian father … after I slit his throat.”