Faery Queen (5 page)

Lucien sucked the flames back into himself, holding the fire in his palm. Black smoke curled over them, forming a dark cloud along the ceiling of his bedchamber. Mia didn't dare speak. The fire wound around his arm and neck like a snake, before rolling in a ball toward his hand. It twisted into the shape of a dagger and solidified to become a real blade. He wielded it before her, touching her lips with the hot steel.

“You dare to kiss another with this mouth?” he demanded, his tone sinister. The flames sparked in his eyes. “You think you can cause me pain by betraying me? Do you think you can teach me anything about suffering? I am the king of evil. You cannot teach me anything I do not already know.”

“Luc—” She foolishly tried to speak.

The knife tip dug into her lip, drawing blood. He wanted to stab her, she could see it in his eyes, felt it in whatever soul she had left. He drew the blade back. Mia flinched, not trying to run. Why should she? He could come after her, catch her wherever she went. Even if she was to escape, with half her soul intact, he would have the other half and with it he'd have the means to capture her. With it, he'd call to her, make her delirious to come back even when she knew she shouldn't. She shivered, hating him for what he was capable of and unsure as to how to stop him.

“Leave the mortals be,” she pleaded, knowing it could very well be the last thing she said to him. “Let Bellemare have its blessing. With such a corrupt mortal world, why do you need the Bellemare family?”

“You know the reason, Mia.” Lucien took the blade, swinging it around in his hand. The demon burned bright in his black eyes. “I need those souls if I am to become more powerful. The blessed always have the farthest to fall.”

“You do not need more power,” she said softly, hoping to calm him. Shaking, she lifted her hand, moving her lips closer to his. The taste of blood was in her mouth, salty and thick. “You are powerful enough.”

Lucien jerked away, lifting the blade higher. “Do you think you can tempt me with lips that touched another? Do you think you can do anything I will not know about? I should cut your lips from you, you treacherous whore.”

She whimpered as the knife slashed the air. Instead of hitting her, Lucien drove the blade into his own stomach. He gasped, blood trickling from his lips down his chin and throat. It splattered from his wound, over her cheeks and neck in hot beads. He left the weapon imbedded in his flesh and grabbed her face. Kissing her with his bloody mouth, he grunted with each movement of his body. She knew he felt the pain of what he had done.

His lips close to hers, he said, “Do you think I will hesitate to do the same to you if you betray me again?”

Tears ran down her cheeks and she shook her head in denial. He could stab her a thousand times and bring her back after each and every one. The salty taste of his blood was in her mouth, stinging her with the potency of it. She knew he could kill her if he so chose, and knew that only her hate of him held him back. Her hate fed his powers and he liked making her fall to his will again and again.

“I can give you everything or I can take it all away. The choice is yours, Mia. Believe me when I say, death is not the worst I am capable of.” Lucien snarled at her, disappearing from the chamber.

Seconds after he left, manacles wrapped her wrists and ankles. Chains pulled her to the floor with their impossibly heavy weight, leading to the poster of his bed. Unable to move, she lay naked on the floor, watching the flames of the fireplace. The demon blood in her mouth burned and she tried to spit it out. It did no good. Nothing would ever get rid of Lucien's taste. The Damned King's scent marred her completely and she knew it was only a matter of time before she was utterly his.

 

Lucien stormed down the hall, holding his fiery hands out to the side to make the dark gray stone of his castle walls light with his rage. The roaring flames locked Mia even more securely in his bedchamber. Tapestries burned, curling and falling around him as he destroyed everything of beauty around him. Lucien didn't care. He could fix it later if he wished. Right now, he didn't want to be reminded of beauty's treacherous face, her easy lies.

Forming a ball of flames in his hand, he tossed it back and forth between his palms as he entered the great hall of his palace. Thin columns reached up to the ceiling, the black stone roughly cut with sharp jagged edges. The ceilings were tall, but like the rest of his palace, they were subject to his whims. Right now stone spikes grew down, giant stalactites with deadly points.

A large bonfire burned in the middle of the hall, casting light over the dark, shiny stone, giving depth where shadows liked to creep. The fire was held in place by a giant circular pit in the ground. The edges of the floor lifted up slightly around the flames, as if the stone had been rolled over to make the fiery centerpiece.

Holding his flaming hand higher, Lucien looked around for a moving target. His hall was empty. There was no one to pelt with his wrath.

The Damned King growled, motioning his hand upward. A stone head grew from the dark floor, creaking and moaning as it came to be. Lucien paced around it, glaring at each line he'd created until he stood before a life size Mia. Roaring with anger he threw the flames at the statue, repeatedly hitting it until the stone crumpled under the immense heat, and still he threw more, weakening himself as the rage boiled on.

“Ah!” A tiny gasp penetrated his brain.

Lucien turned, his fiery hand held back, knowing the demon he carried was enjoying himself immensely. He caught his reflection in the polished black column. His skin had turned to an ashen gray, scorched like the last embers of a fire. His eyes were black pits streaked with the crimson of blood and hate. Seeing a speck of white light in the dark bowels of his hall, he parted his lips to expose a mouthful of fangs.

“Ahh!”
The tiny faery screamed, reaching to grab another faery light behind it. The second speck fought with the first as if each trying to push the other forward.

“What are you doing in my hall?” Lucien growled, breathing heavily through his nose so each breath was a snort of irritation.

“Qu-queen…”
a small voice stuttered.

“Speak up,” Lucien yelled. Fire spurted over his entire being, only to puff out with a gust of smoke.

The two faeries flew closer, weaving as if uncertain before forming to their taller heights before him. They held each other looking fearfully at his chest.

“You are, ah, King Lucien…” The dark-haired one pointed at his chest. “Ah…?”

The blade he'd stuck in himself was still there. He grabbed it, pulling it out. Blood ran down his stomach. Smiling cruelly, he fed off their fear of him as he brought the blade to his lips. Lucien licked the blade, watching them closely for a reaction. A rush of strength came over him as they grabbed each other tighter.

“Queen Tania wishes for you to…” the lighter faery said in a hurry as if trying to force the words out before she lost her voice altogether. Her wings drooped toward the ground.

“To come,” the darker one added.

“To Feia,” the blonde finished.

Queen Tania requested an audience with him? Lucien laughed, tilting back his head as the dark sound echoed off the barren walls. Did the queen really think she could stop him from sending his demons into Bellemare? Did she think she would be safe to confront him on her own ground? Did a faery really believe she could best the king of all that was damned?

“I accept,” Lucien answered, eager to have an excuse to leave the Fire Palace. He tossed the blade at the two faeries. They screamed and huddled close together as it came for them. The blade disappeared into a puff of smoke inches before hitting them. They yelped and made popping noises as they became little dots of light. Still laughing, Lucien bowed and disappeared, leaving the hysterical women to fly frantically out of his hall.

 

 

 

“What do you mean William is gone?” Hugh demanded, slamming his fist on a nearby dining table. He stood before the fireplace, having thoroughly checked the abovestairs chambers himself. The earl turned his gaze to where his knight, Sir Geoffrey, awaited his orders. Aside from Thomas and Geoffrey, there were only a few of his most loyal guards in the hall.

“We have looked everywhere, my lord.” Geoffrey gave him a meaningful look. Hugh trusted the man with his life. They'd fought in many skirmishes together and had even trained for knighthood as children under the same lord.

“None have passed by the castle gate,” Euric offered, stepping forward. He was in charge of the front gate. “And we have checked the surrounding wall. There is naught to draw suspicion. Even if someone could survive the fall, they would leave a trail. There is naught to make us suspect William was there. If he is gone, William did not leave that way.”

Hugh closed his eyes. He should have followed his instincts and looked for William the night before, but they'd been so sure he was merely sleeping with the maid. Directing his attention back to Geoffrey, he asked, “And the woman?”

Geoffrey shook his head. “None know of a maid with eyes like you describe. Are you sure you—?”

Hugh's hard look stopped him from finishing the inquiry.

“Forgive me, my lord,” Geoffrey said. “I did not mean to question you.”

Hugh nodded absently. Knowing it was hopeless even as he gave the order, he said, “Search again.”

“Aye,” Geoffrey nodded. He waved his hand at the awaiting guards as he strode toward the stairwell leading out of the castle. “Euric, you search the wall again and get men on the outside of the castle.”

“Aye,” said Euric.

“Tobias, get five men and search every inch of this castle,” Geoffrey continued. “And gather the servants. Look for a woman with violet eyes. She has to be here somewhere. Tell the others.”

The sound of their footsteps lightened and Hugh looked at his brother. He trusted Geoffrey to do what must be done and resisted the urge to go look himself. Besides, his gut now told him that William was no longer in the mortal realm.

“They took him,” Hugh said.

“Who?” Thomas frowned.

“They, them, the magic creatures!” Hugh exclaimed. “Who else?”

“William is gone, my lord,” Rees appeared, bowing as he stood atop a table. “We have looked all over the castle. There is no sign of him or his magic. None of us sensed him casting spells.”

That confirmed it. If the magical creatures of Bellemare couldn't find him, then William must truly be lost.

“There is something else though, my lord.” Another creature appeared on the floor. It was Giles, the household brownie. He stumbled drunkenly. The creature spent too much time in the pantry floating in the barrels of ale and mead.

“What?” Hugh demanded.

“Ah!” Rees disappeared off the table only to appear on the floor by Giles. The brownie blinked as Rees stood before him in aggression. “I'm in charge here. You tell me and I will tell Lord Bellemare.”

“Rees!” Hugh interrupted. He didn't have time for their arguing. Not now. “Giles, what else?”

Giles burped and scratched his head. “I cannot remember.”

“Argh,” Hugh made a move to squash the troublesome brownie. Thomas grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“Giles, what do you know of our brother, William?” Thomas asked.

“Ah, aye, William. Methinks he's passed,” Giles said.

“Dead,” Hugh whispered, stricken with a severe pain in his chest.

“Well, uh,” Giles frowned, lifting his finger. He never got a chance to explain as a shout sounded over the hall.

“Lord Bellemare! Come at once!” It was Euric yelling up the stairwell. “A foal!”

“Nay, my lord! Not dead!” Giles yelled. “Passed through. William passed through.”

Hugh was too tense to feel much relief at the brownie's words. He ran for the courtyard with Thomas on his heels. His sword hung along his waist, ready to be drawn should the need arise. He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that it would.

 

 

 

“I like the changes you have made to your palace,” Lucien said as he walked into the tarnished faery hall.

Tania lifted her head to look at the Damned King from her throne. He moved leisurely, glancing around as if appreciating the dark atmosphere. She knew the second he'd appeared and had left the way open so he could find entry.

It had been a long time since she'd seen Lucien and part of her trembled to have openly invited him to be in her home, but a greater part of her ached, demanding that she do it. He was the only one strong enough to bring Hugh back to Feia and make him answer for leaving her.

“Your demons grow bold,” Tania said.

“Are you blaming your new look on my demons?” Lucien asked. His tanned flesh was splotched with ashen spots. He looked sickly, but she wasn't fooled by the pallor of his features. Threading his hands behind his back, he strolled around the empty great hall floor. Her faeries had left her, unsure what their queen was thinking but not willing to wait around for the King of the Damned to show himself in their court. “I assure you, they rarely leave a castle standing, should they take it to mind to refashion it.”

“They cross into the mortal realm all too freely,” Tania said, ignoring his sinister teasing.

“Ah, that.” Lucien bowed, a mocking gesture. “Forgive my rudeness. I forgot to thank you for lowering your magical guard so that they may pass more easily.”

“Can you cross?” Tania asked, not returning his smile.

Lucien's expression didn't change, but he also didn't answer. Tania concluded by his silence that he could not.

“Pity,” she lied.

“Now you have really piqued my curiosity.” Lucien leisurely climbed the stairs to stand by her throne. Stopping next to her, he reached down to touch her face. “The hall is not the only thing that has changed, is it? What has happened to the beautiful faery queen? Surely the horrors of war have not touched you so deeply as to cause this.” The edge of his fingernail traced a black line along her cheek. The feel of it burned her flesh, just enough to sting but not cause damage. “Why do you ask me here? What has happened that you should join me?”