The Phantom King (The Kings) (44 page)

The threat of something horrible hung over everyone in the supernatural world,
a power none of the kings could fathom was taking hold, and more than a few of them had been personally touched by it.

It lent a solemn feel to the everything and muted the pride Siobhan should have felt about what she and Jason had accomplished.

“So Steven is the Akyri King now,” Siobhan said after she’d finished swallowing. “I didn’t see that coming.” She raised a brow. “But then, I didn’t see any of this coming, so I guess my perceptions don’t count.”

Thane smiled
and took a long pull off of his own beer.
She was beautiful when she was self-
deprecating
. Hell, she was always beautiful.

“Thane, can I ask you something?”

He lowered
his bottle and said, “Anything. A
ny time.”
She was making him weak. In time, h
e would never be able to deny her anything.

“Alberich said that it was ra
re for a warlock not to use
magic against someone. That this set me apart from other warlocks.”

Thane waited.
A vein in her neck pulsed, and the crotch of Thane’s jeans felt tight.
His gums tingled.

“So…. Does that mean that I’m not a good warlock any more? That I’m like all the others now? Am I turning evil, or whatever?”
She shook
her head as if she didn’t know how else to say it.

Thane set his beer down on the counter. “Why in the realms would you think
that?” he asked
.

She shrugged, obviously feeling self conscious. She pulled her
honey brown
eyes from his and looked out the window at the vast expanse of Purgatory.
Her
fetching
profile made him edgy. His
fingers just itched to touch her
.
“I attacked you,” she said. “I used my magic against another person.”

Thane shook his head. “Siobhan, you thought I was there to kill you. You thought I was evil.”

She turned away from the window to look
back up at him. “What difference does that make?” She looked so earnest, so guile-less, it was
really
adorable.
It was about to be her undoing.

“You used your magic to fight evil, my queen.” And then he smiled a smile that would have terrified any
reasonable
young woman with half a brain. “You can’t fight evil with evil.”

Siobhan’s eyes widened
as he moved in
.
But she wasn’t going anywhere.

Epilogue

The night was long and dark, despite the
early June date
.
It was as if time had stopped i
n the
absence
of the sun, and now the world would very slowly freeze.

In this night, the crickets were still, the wind slept, and a
young
vampire queen dreamed.
A voice
whispered
to her, powerful and deep. It called to her, coaxed her, and made promises.
It chuckled, dark and delicious, whe
n she tried to turn away
. It was no use. Where did she think she could go?

*****

In this night, a young female werewolf and healer among her people dreamed of ancient
symbols, of eclipses, and of walking along the banks of a river. She dreamed
of ancient gods, unrequited love, and cataclysmic revenge. She dreamed
of her twin children, the medallions of protection around their
young
necks, and the city that waited
on the
river’s west b
ank… quiet and dead.

*****

In this night,
a force
archaic, dark and cold enjoyed a quiet victory. He’d wanted the 13
Kings
together in on
e place. And he’d succeeded.
Love – and the fear of losing that love; they would work every time.

Now thirteen
codes simmered within him, growing and strengthening. All he needed was time… and unintelligible amounts of magic.

The latter he would have thanks to the
radiant
treasure he
kept in the next room, l
ocked up safe and sound in a forced slumber.

He had promised hi
s brother that she would
be his, one way or another
.

He always kept his promises.

*****

In this night, a
ginger cat with
intelligent
gold eyes paced patiently around
the base of a cold stone sarcophagus
.
Nothing else
moved in the secret, locked chamber
.
Hieroglyphs
several thousands of years old crumbled along the walls. The flames in the torches burned low but steady.

L
ike the eternal companion and guardian that it was,
the cat
came to the foot of the tomb,
sat down, and glanced up at the heavy lid as if hoping it would slide to the side. When it didn’t
move
, the cat calmly
curled its tail around its paws and
waited
.

Catch the heart-pounding continuation of the unfolding saga in book three of The Kings series, The Warlock King, release date to be determined.

Check out Heather’s critically acclaimed paranormal romance series, The
Lost Angels, rated 4 ½ stars by Romance Times:

Always Angel

Avenger’s Angel

Messenger’s Angel
(June 5
^th
, 2012)

Death’s Angel
(January, 2013)

Warrior’s Angel
(TBD)

The Last Angel
(TBD)

Read on for excerpts from these tantalizing treats
.

Excerpt from “Always Angel,” the ebook-only introductory novella for the Lost Angels series, by Heather Killough-Walden

Angel crossed the room, her eyes glued to the screen where several news crews and reporters crowded around a limousine and the man getting out of it. She tossed the remote onto the couch nearby and stood still at the center of the
living room
, her breath catching as the man on the screen straightened to his full impressive height and scanned the faces of the people around him with stark, stormy gray eyes.

He was dressed as she’d always seen him of late, in a crisp charcoal gray suit, tailored to perfection. His tall, strong frame fairly towered over those near him, his ash-blond hair in stark contrast to the dark material of his clothing. He was painfully handsome. He always had been.

But now, draped in the finery that his wealth afforded him and highlighted by the luminescence of the street lights on the sidewalk, he was living, breathing charisma. Angel found it hard to look at him. Her chest felt tight, her mouth dry, her throat constricted.

His jaw was strong, his nose Roman, his chin darkened lightly by a touch of scruff he had yet to shave. The lightning in his eyes sliced across the crowd, and Angel knew he was taking everything in. A more keen gaze had never existed.

They shoved microphones in his handsome face – but not too close. They asked question after question, but not too demandingly. The world wanted to know; they wanted to suck up every tiny piece of information they could about Samuel Lambent. This man. This glorious, gorgeous, larger than life man.

“Samael,” Angel whispered, not even realizing she’d done so. As if he had heard her – clear across town and before the television news crews, Samuel Lambent stilled, his gaze cutting to the camera whose angle now aired the picture before her. For the tensest of moments, it appeared as though he looked right at her.

Through
her.

She held her breath. It was meaningless and ridiculous, but it was impulse. A heartbeat passed. Another. And then Lambent was once more glancing away, his attention apparently caught by one of the multitude of questions the public was hurling at him.
 

((Always Angel is available now.))

Excerpt from “Avenger’s Angel,” the first full-length book in the Lost Angels series

by Heather Killough-Walden

Now Ellie turned to face Daniels, who was still leaning against the bookshelf, watching her. In the next split second, he straightened from the shelf, closed the distance between them with two purposeful strides, and pinned her to the customer service desk, one strong arm braced against the counter on either side of her.

Eleanore inhaled sharply and her heart did a somersault in her chest.

“I have to go to a big party Thursday night. Come with me,” he said. He was so close, his breath whispered across her lips—it smelled of licorice and mint.

“W-wha
 
 
.
 
.
 
.” she stammered. Then she dry swallowed and tried again. “What?”

She heard a faint cracking sound and glanced down to see that his grip on the desk behind her had tightened. She turned back to face him and watched as his gaze flicked to her mouth and back.

“Ellie,” he said, as if testing her name out on his tongue. “Here’s the thing,” he continued softly. “I need a date to a big promotional party in Dallas. A gala. I don’t know anyone in Texas. You were kind enough to let me hide in the women’s restroom.” He smiled an incredibly charming smile. “And I appreciate it,” he added. “So I would be honored if you would consider being my date next week on Thursday.”

Eleanore took a few seconds to digest this. There was a part of her that simply couldn’t believe her position at that moment. She was being cornered by Christopher Daniels, against her own customer service desk, and asked out on a date. But despite the impossibility of it all, she knew she wasn’t dreaming. This felt too real.