The Fallen King: The Bellum Sisters 4 (paranormal erotic romance) (2 page)

BOOK: The Fallen King: The Bellum Sisters 4 (paranormal erotic romance)
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Chapter Two

 

Alrik lifted his knee high to his
chest then slammed it down. His heavy boot caught the demon’s chin smashing its
bony skull into the ground with a fleshy crack. The
idummi
squealed a
heinous, ear-piercing sound before Alrik let his boot connect with the demon’s
face again, ending the squeal.

Dragging in a heavy breath, Alrik
turned to the temple and surveyed the grounds. The seer’s home was a decrepit
stone structure with two rock pillars in front acting as an archway to an empty,
dark doorway set behind them. The home, if one could call it that, looked like
a small rock hovel. The outside of the house was formed from hundreds of jagged
rocks that varied in size and color. With the full light of day on it you could
see chalky white areas and shiny black ones that glinted in the hazy sky’s pink
glow.

The one-story abode had no door
but did have a dirty brown curtain that billowed in the breeze. Alrik checked
his surroundings once more then ducked inside the temple.

His lip curled. The one-story
temple was anything but what he expected. Magic reeked in the place; it
saturated the air like fog. The rocky structure was a hoax, a glamour created
by the seer. Inside, the room traveled back for some distance, something not
possible when judging from the outside of the temple. The floor and walls were
made of flat, sanded-down stone, and torches burned brightly to chase back the
shadows. The scent of burning wood and smoke hit his nostrils.

Alrik gripped his bloodied sword as
he made his way down the long hall at the back of the room. The tunnel went on
for some distance with no end in sight. No light lit the way and no light could
be seen at the end of the tunnel. He hated these games but it looked like he’d
have to play them. He did not come this far to not get the answers he sought.

Stepping lightly he made his way
down the blackened tunnel. He kept his ears alert, all of his senses ready. He
didn’t make it far when a voice spoke and sounded as if came from all around
him.

It sounded chipper as if it was
laughing. “Found me at last have you, fallen king? Took you long enough.”

Alrik’s lips peeled back. To the
darkened tunnel, he demanded, “Stop playing games with me seer. You’ll speak to
me—”

“Or else what, fallen king?
You’ll kill me too? As you did to that demon outside?”

“He was rummaging around your
temple. I saved you from him.”

The voice came back heavy with
sarcasm. “Hardly necessary. No one gets in here unless I want them to.”

Alrik’s neck muscles flexed as he
clenched his shoulders, but he didn’t roll his head to ease it. “Then speak to
me, old man.”

The voice, that of an old man
scratchy with age and hoarse, laughed again. The jolly sound only fueled
Alrik’s anger.

“The fallen king is desperate,
his heart filled with anger. I’ll tell you now that isn’t the answer.”

Alrik stopped walking down the
endless tunnel with no light in sight and spun his head around trying to track
the seer’s voice. “I haven’t even asked a question yet, seer.”

“Ah, but I know what you want to
ask.”

“Then give me the answer!” Alrik
shouted, his voice bouncing off the tunnel walls and echoing down the long
corridor until he was surrounded by the shout. After many seconds, the echo
faded leaving him in heavy silence.

He heard a long sigh which sounded
laden with disappointment. “Very well,” the voice said.

The walls around him shimmered
and bubbled as if looking through the clear water of a waterfall as it fell to Earth.
The dark walls became bright as if it was suddenly illuminated. Alrik turned
and saw the black tunnel wall dissipate completely to reveal a large room
complete with a large burning fireplace, a long wooden table covered in silver plates
and golden goblets, and large iron rods around the room that held thick waxy
candles that flickered orange light.

In front of the fireplace sat an
old man sitting on a deep orange rug woven with magical symbols and Demonish words.
Alrik stepped into the room. The old seer sat with his ankles crossed and knees
pointing out. His long dark hair was pulled high atop his head in a curl and he
wore a blue and red robe that shimmered in the firelight.

Alrik started for the seer.

The seer lifted his head from the
floor and his eyes met Alrik. Alrik froze at the sight of those eyes, and he’d never
seen anything like it. Black eyes with a brilliant blue center. He’d seen many
demons in his life of varying colored skin, hair, and eyes, but never anything
like this. However, the rest of the seer looked very human. Dark brown skin,
dark hair, but those eyes were something different.

“So you’ve found me, fallen king
Alrik.”

“Not easily.” Much blood had been
shed, and even more time spent trying to find the seer. It had better be worth all
the trouble. He was his last hope, and the only one capable of helping him on
his quest.

“Nothing worth doing is ever
easy.”

“Spare me the proverbial talk,
seer.”

The seer looked up towards the
ceiling, his expression dreamy with thought. “I must correct myself. Nothing
important
worth doing is ever easy. Seeing as how much you need me and my guidance and
how important that will change things for you, I’d say it’s going to be very
important for you.”

“Enough of the bullshit, seer.
You know what I’m here to ask.”

The seer looked at Alrik and
smiled, his white teeth dazzling against his dark skin. “Shall you ask anyway?
People like that. They don’t enjoy knowing that I already know what they’re
going to say. I believe it makes them feel more comfortable.”

“Where is my mother?”

The seer jumped up to a stand,
surprising Alrik with his agility. The man sounded as if speaking was a chore
yet he hopped up with the spring of a child.

The seer was guessed to be older
than the kingdom of
Harumina
itself and yet he looked no older than Alrik
did. Surely, he was a
shahoulin
demon like Alrik, because they aged much
slower than some species of earth.

Still smiling, the seer walked to
a cupboard hanging on the stone wall and grabbed something off the shelf. With
a few more movements, the seer walked to the candle standing in the corner of
the room, and with a smoke pressed between his lips he breathed deeply as the
candle sparked. The smoke’s end lit brightly as he inhaled.

“Smoke?” the seer asked without
glancing at him.

“No,” Alrik said, his patience
waning fast. “Answer my question, seer.”

The seer pulled the smoke from
between his wrinkled lips and stared at the tip before turning it back around
and casually sucking from the end. The scent of burning herbs reached Alrik’s
nostrils. The odor was not unpleasant but close to it.

“You’re asking the wrong
question, fallen king.”

Alrik squeezed his sword then
deposited it back in the scabbard across his back. “Stop calling me that.”

The seer’s dark eyebrows flew up
in surprise, and Alrik wasn’t fooled. The seer wasn’t surprised by anything.
“What? The fallen king? You are fallen, aren’t you? Were you not banished from
your home for all your…horrible deeds?”

Alrik’s blood pumped hard with
the need to lash out. The need to tear across the small space, wrap his hand
around the old seer’s throat, and squeeze—squeeze until his eyes rolled into
the back of his head and his wheezing breaths stopped. He didn’t do that
though. Instead, he released a strangled breath and bared his teeth.

“Where is my mother?”

“Ah, yes, the fallen queen,” the
seer said, still smiling and puffing away at his smoke. “That’s not the right
question to ask. Try another, fallen king.”

“How can I find my mother?”

The seer rocked his head side to
side as if contemplating.

“You are very close to death
right now,” warned Alrik “I’d answer if I were you.”

The seer tossed his head back and
laughed a hoarse, wheezing sound. When he looked back at Alrik, his grin was broader
and his dark eyes bright with amusement. “You can’t kill me, fallen king.”

“Want to bet on that, seer?”

The seer spread his arms out wide
until his body formed a T. “You need me.”

Alrik looked away. It was either
that or risk tearing the seer apart limb by limb. God, just the thought of it
sent a rush of pleasure through him. The howl of his screams would fuel him
better than any food, the sight of his spurting blood like a balm to his heart.

“Answer the question,” he said
slowly, his eyes closing as he enjoyed the mental image of killing the seer
with his bare hands.

Silence met him. Alrik pushed
back the dark thoughts and opened his eyes to find the seer watching him, no
longer smiling.

“How you can find her or where
you can find her is not important, and you already know the answer.”

“All that I know, seer, is that
she’s in the rift.”

The seer shrugged a slender
shoulder.

“I’m sure you know how big the
rift is, seer.”

“She’s here. You’ll find her
eventually, but you already know that. You don’t need me for that.”

Alrik frowned. “Then why the fuck
else am I here?”

Again, the seer smiled. “Because
you don’t know how to kill her.”

Alrik’s body stilled, each muscle
tensing. “I’ll slice her head off with my blade and if that doesn’t work, I’ll
turn to magic as she has.”

The seer laughed then sat back
down on the rug at the fire, leaving a trail of smoke behind him. “But you
can’t kill her.”

“What do you mean I can’t kill
her?” he asked slowly.

That’s all he’d thought about,
all he’d planned for
years.
He’d been searching for her for years,
always either one step behind or completely off her trail through some form of
her treachery. He was done. This would end soon. He’d make sure of it.

The seer looked him up and down.
“Your curse won’t let you. The queen isn’t stupid. When she cursed you she made
sure that if you ever learned of her deceit you couldn’t kill her. Since surely
you’d want to.”

‘Want’ was such a lame word. He
didn’t want to kill his mother, he needed to. He needed to as much as needed
air to live.

“How do I break the curse upon me
then?”

“By killing her, of course.”

Alrik’s fists clenched until his
blunt nails stabbed into his skin. He felt the skin give and blood bead. “But
you said I can’t kill her.”

“No, you can’t.”

Alrik nearly saw red. “Then how
do I kill her?”

“It’s not a how so much as a who.
See, you’re not asking the right questions.”

Alrik blinked, the only sign he
gave to show the shock in his body. “Who can kill her?” The thought of anyone
else ever delivering the killing blow to his mother had never, not even once,
crossed his mind.

The seer laughed and rubbed his
hands together. “The most unlikely person, naturally. A woman, a human woman.”

Alrik took a hard step forward
and pointed a hard finger at the seer. “Stop messing with me, seer. A human,
let alone a woman, could never kill my mother and you know it.”

“But this human is a witch.” His eyes
turned into a faraway look, unfocused and hazy. “Though there is a bit of a
problem with that.”

As if this wasn’t a problem
already. “And what’s that?”

The seer didn’t respond for several
moments. His eyes were lost in thought. Finally, the haze left him and he
tossed the end of his smoke into the burning fire. “She hasn’t used her magic
in a very long time. She shuns it.”

Alrik shook his head. “This is
ridiculous. You mean to tell me that the only way to kill my mother and lift
the curse from me is through a human witch who doesn’t even practice her skill?”

“Precisely!” the seer said with a
smile.

Alrik looked away, lost in his
own thoughts. “You’re certain she is the one?”

“Oh yes.”

A human witch. If she could kill
his mother then she must be very powerful indeed. The human aspect would be a
downside. That means he’d have to go to the surface to get her and she’d have a
harder time adjusting to the environment in the rift. But, it could work. The
fact that she doesn’t practice her own magic would have to be remedied right
away. He needed her power at its fullest for when they reached the queen.

“What is her name?”

The seer’s lips lifted into
another smile. “Abbigail Krenshaw.”

Alrik frowned. “That’s a strange
name.”

“Maybe to her your name is
strange.”

“Maybe so. How do I find her?”

The seer shrugged but a smart
glimmer in his eyes said he did know. But he stayed silent.

God, the surface. He hadn’t been
there...in ages. The last time was before the Great War and even then he
preferred his richer, brighter colors of the rift than the dull colors of the
earthen-realm.

BOOK: The Fallen King: The Bellum Sisters 4 (paranormal erotic romance)
2.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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