The Demon King (26 page)

Dahlia still felt the sting of the fire’s
loss, even now more than two thousand years later. That day, she
learned two things. One, she learned never to wear clothes she
didn’t like. She might end up in them for a long, long time.

And two, she learned that there was a place
a person could reside, somewhere between the pain of a tragedy and
the fact that things could be worse. It was somewhere between awful
and hellish. In that place, there was no need for words; everyone
knew instinctively what you were going through. Sympathizing with
you for your loss would seem shallow. Reminding you of how
fortunate you were that things weren’t even worse would seem
callous, apathetic, and ignorant. So you just didn’t say anything
at all.

That was where Dahlia was right now. She’d
more or less been touched by the Stale Fire once more. She’d been
kidnapped by the Entity, turned into a vampire, and then made a
queen. To make matters more impressive, she was a queen with a
signed death warrant. Everything she’d grown to know for the last
several thousand years was changed. It was in effect taken from her
– just as the Stale Fire had taken everything from her when she was
a child.

There was no point in stating the obvious,
in talking about how overwhelming her situation had become. And no
amount of tears or complaining would turn things around. All she
could really do was try to keep herself from falling completely
apart. The whole of her emotion seemed to be more than the sum of
all that was transpiring. It felt like there was something else
wrong – something just beyond the realm of her knowledge. But maybe
that was just what it felt like when a person was stuck for too
long between bad and worse.

Either way, she needed to
deal. She needed to keep moving. Everything could be figured out
eventually as long as she survived and didn’t lose her head. And
she was pretty certain that she could keep her head, as long
as
one
more thing
didn’t fucking go wrong.

So that’s where Dahlia was mentally when she
entered the apartment of the man who was the head detective for the
Boston City Police, the Akyri King, the demon prince, and her fated
husband. The door opened directly into the apartment’s living room.
Everything was decorated in tasteful and simple earth tones, from
the beige carpet to the off-white paint on the walls.

To the right of the door was an
entertainment set up, a fairly large plasma television screen, a
gaming computer with a futuristic-looking red lit face, a hutch
with a number of DVD’s and video games, and a plethora of video
game systems stacked neatly to the left of the television
screen.

To the left of the door was a tan leather
furniture set – a sofa, a large plush chair, and a love seat.
Between them was a coffee table, which at the moment hosted two
beer bottles, one empty, the other half-way there.

The beers no doubt belonged to the man in
the room, who was holding a VIVE virtual reality headset under one
arm and grasping the two controllers to the VIVE with the
other.

“
Baxter, this is Dahlia
Kellen and this is Bael. Dahlia and Bael, this is Baxter, my
partner with the force,” said Lazarus by way of introduction. “Oh,
and this is Bowie.” He gestured to the dog to include
her.

Dahlia and Bael nodded politely, and Bowie
gave a little bark that honestly sounded just as polite. Dahlia
wondered if Bael felt as lost as she did. Probably not. He was
probably used to this kind of shit.

“
Nice to meet you,” said
Baxter as he moved to the coffee table to set down the headset and
hand controllers. “Can I get you guys a beer? They’re the perfect
temperature right now. Would Bowie like some water?”

Dahlia shook her head. Beer
would be bad unless it was Lifeblood made to
taste
like beer. “We’re good,” she
said, speaking for her and Bowie, whom she knew had just been in
the demon castle’s kitchens.

Bael also shook his head. “No, but thank you
for the offer.” He looked at Laz, who nodded in understanding. They
were pressed for time.

“
I need to pick up a few of
my things and head out, Bax. The place is yours for as long as you
need it; I’m officially out of commission.” Laz moved through the
living room to the hallway, from which Dahlia could see three more
doors led off. Two were most likely bedrooms, and the third, she
was guessing was a restroom.

Baxter was quiet, a look of keen interest
crossing his features as he watched his partner disappear down the
hall. Dahlia studied him. He was the kind of man a woman wouldn’t
mind warming her bed. He was tall and well built, and his light
brown hair was thick. He had interesting eyes. When she’d first
walked in, she could have sworn they were blue. But now they seemed
to be darker. Maybe she’d been mistaken. They looked almost brown
now.

Baxter turned to her and Bael. “Excuse me,”
he said politely before turning to head down the hall after Laz.
Dahlia pricked her vampire ears, listening in a way that would have
been impossible for a human.

“
You in some kind of
trouble?” she heard Baxter ask.

“
You know me,” Lazarus
chuckled. The sound gave Dahlia a delicious chill, which she
suppressed by hugging herself. “I’m never
out
of trouble. But this time, it’s
about more than me.”

There was a long pause. “Is it that beauty
out there? I know who she is, Laz. What’s your business with
her?”

Dahlia felt a pang in her chest. She hated
it when people talked about her. Nonetheless, despite the pain she
found herself listening harder.

“
It’s…
complicated.”

“
Shit. She’s your
queen
, isn’t she? You
lucky son of a bitch.”

Lazarus made shushing
sounds. “Keep it down. And I
know
. But there’s more,
Bax.”

“
More than
that
? What more could
there possibly fucking
be
?”

“
Everything good comes with
something bad, you know that. Two sides of the coin.”

“
Is it the other kings?”
Baxter asked. Dahlia’s gaze intensified where she peered down the
hall.

“
Yes and no.”

She heard someone pulling something from a
closet, followed by the sound of zippers. Luggage of some kind?

“
The Entity?” Baxter asked
next.

Okay, he knows about
everything
, Dahlia thought. Now she was
wondering if Baxter was human. Maybe the strangeness of his eyes
had been indicative of something bigger. An Akyri maybe? No, he
didn’t have the Akyri feel to him. As a warlock, she would have
been able to detect an Akyri right away. He was something
else.

“
Not this time. Or….” She
heard Lazarus sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe. Look,” he said, and she
could tell he’d stopped moving and was facing his partner head-on.
“Try to cover for me if you can. Keep communication on a
need-to-know basis only. And no magic. I need to lay low for a
while and figure some things out.”

“
You heading to the Akyri
castle?”

There’s an Akyri
castle?
Dahlia wondered, mystified.
He really
does
know everything; he knows more than I
do!

“
No. We’re going off the
grid.”

In human terms, the “grid” referred to
technology. And since they both had cell phones, and neither of
them had been told not to use them, she was guessing that wasn’t
what Lazarus was referring to this time. She was guessing he meant
the “supernatural grid.” Which, ironically, was harder for someone
like either of them to accomplish. It meant not using magic. It
also meant not going anywhere magical. That meant remaining in the
mortal realm and not communicating in any way with anyone from the
other thirteen.

There was another long silence. Then Laz
swore softly.

“
What is it?” Baxter
asked.

“
I had my work cell. My
personal cell was here and silenced. There’s a message from
D’Angelo.”

More quiet stretched.

“
I had a feeling something
was wrong,” Lazarus sighed. “This is going to kill Dahlia.”
Dahlia’s heart skipped a beat, then began to hammer. “I don’t know
how I’m going to break it to her.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

“
You could try just telling
me.”

Laz spun to face Dahlia, who had made it
silently down the hall and was standing in the doorway to his
bedroom. Baxter stepped back as if instinctively sensing the sudden
thickness of danger in the air.

“
What is it, Detective?”
Dahlia asked, adding an extra pin prick to his already tender
nerves by deliberately not using his name. “What is it that’s going
to kill me?”

Laz held her gaze for as long as he could
before he started to notice a purple tint to the outer rings of her
stunning green eyes. He knew she was running out of patience with
him, but this news would tear her apart. She’d been studying with
Lalura Chantelle for years. She, her sister Violet, and Poppy Nix
made up the warlock coven that she’d come to know as family. And
these days, Dahlia Kellen could use all the family she could
get.

However, delaying the truth wouldn’t make it
any easier for her to handle. He braced himself and squared his
shoulders. “I’m sorry, Dahlia. D’Angelo sent a message earlier this
afternoon. Lalura Chantelle was attacked by the Entity.” He paused,
suddenly finding it hard to say the words. By the time he did, the
purple ring lining Dahlia’s eyes had grown in width and lightened
in color. “I’m afraid he succeeded this time.”

The air in the room had already been growing
thicker, but now it felt like it was charging up. The hair on the
back of his neck stood on end. A crackling sound buzzed his ears.
There was a pressure around him; Baxter noticed it. He backed
further away, putting distance between himself and the pair of
them.

“
She’s dead,” Dahlia said
softly. Her gaze slipped from his and dropped to the floor. Then
she whispered, “
No
wonder
.”

She turned from them both and headed back
down the hall. Laz steeled himself. He recognized the rigid back,
the stiff and purposeful walk. He knew things were about to go from
hard to hellish. With a last wordless glance at Baxter, he grabbed
the duffle bag from the bed and followed her out.

Bael and the dog were waiting in the living
room when they returned. Bael had been seated in the loveseat,
turning the VIVE headset over in his hands and studying it
carefully. Bowie lay curled beside the chair as if she and Bael had
known each other for years.

When they emerged from the hall, Bowie
looked up. She leapt to her feet, tail wagging, to make her way to
Dahlia, who bent and gave her a loving pet. Bael put the headset
down as if he’d been caught doing something naughty. He stood and
nodded to them.

“
Bael, I need you to take
this and transport away from here by yourself.” Laz placed the bag
on the coffee table and pulled something from its depths. It
instantly caught the light, glimmering crazily. Dahlia’s eyes
widened. She was a Tuath fae, and she’d seen some pretty gorgeous
magical items in her life, but watching a human in an average human
apartment pull out an honest-to-goodness crown from a nylon duffle
bag was one hell of a thing.

“
It’s a crown,” said Bael.
Laz looked up at him. He was reminded of that scene in
Highlander
where the cop
asks Connor McLeod if he recognized the weapon on the table. McLeod
deadpanned, “It’s a sword.”

“
Good eyes,” he told Bael
with a rueful look. “You’re wasting your time as a messenger. You’d
make a great detective.”

Bael looked up at him with a surprised
expression, and Laz smiled. He could tell the man was torn between
the respect he’d been trained to have toward demon royalty and the
reproachful retort that Laz very much deserved.

He held the crown out for Bael to take.
“It’s the Crown of the Akyri,” he told them all. The head piece was
a black gold and platinum mix, each metal swirled into the other,
its spires curved up and inward. “It was given to me when the
former king was killed.”

“
You mean when you killed
him,” Dahlia corrected.

Laz looked over at her. Her gaze was hard,
the green in her eyes turned to glass. They matched the cold, hard
tone of her voice.

His jaw tensed and his
teeth clenched together. “Yes,” he said “
That
.” He held her gaze long and
steady, but she didn’t look away. She was all stubbornness and
strength, and right now he knew she felt like she had nothing to
lose. There was no one harder to control than someone who had
nothing to lose.

He pulled his gaze away and turned back to
Bael. “It’s been infused with my magic, as it has been with every
Akyri King before me. Take it with you, and you’ll be taking my
signature with you.”

Bael’s eyes lit up. He took the crown. “Ah,
I see my lord,” he said, holding the crown as if it were an ancient
artifact and he the archaeologist who discovered it. “I am to be a
diversion.”

“
Exactly. Transport again
and again, one after another, and crisscross your locations. It’ll
dim the trace long enough for you to get back to the Demon
Realm.”