Blakeshire (23 page)

I leered. “Why don’t you just show yourself? You know I’m not afraid of you.”

Your greatest weakness is always your greatest strength. I had feared the whispers and shadows that my friends and I had faced for longer than I cared to remember, but that fear had taught me something about the dead: when or if they choose to manifest, they are weak. Their thoughts are scattered, usually on some kind of loop. The anger or thoughts they believed in their last moments are the ones you hear, and those lead you to some kind of understanding.

I was sure that this ghost was far more powerful than the dead I had helped in the past, but my gut told me that if I managed to get him to appear I might have the upper hand; if I didn’t, it would be a war of energy—only I would be the blind one in that battle. Judging by the amount of stones around me and the water at my feet, I knew that would not end well.

The echo turned into a laugh that I suppose I should fear.

“I have a bit of a tight schedule, so if you want to chat, come on with it,” I taunted, hoping he would be foolish enough to take the bait.

I stared at the shadows, looking for any movement at all. Then all at once, I knew something had taken form. I could feel it breathing next to me. Slowly, my gaze moved there to find a man who was nothing less than a horrid sight. Half of him was gone, and what was there was charred at the edges. The undamaged flesh looked thousands of years old.

It took all I had not to reach over and rip what was left of him apart, especially as my mind played back everything that I knew he had done to Drake and his family. But I was smarter than that. I was going to lead this ghost to believe I was harmless, that I was no threat to him in any way—and from that point I would plan my next play.

“Donalt, is it?” I said as I reached my hand out for his.

His stone cold gray eyes appraised me as he nodded once and reached to shake my hand. I was sure I was about to have one of the most intriguing conversations of my life. My only goal was to survive it.

Chapter Fourteen

~Madison~

I had heard so much about this demon, seen conversations in the minds of those around me, that I felt like I knew him. I don’t know what I was expecting to feel or sense from him, but the degree of fear I felt surely took me by surprise.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he breathed. “I rule the emotion of fear, consume it. Therefore, that is all you will feel from me.”

The other thing I had learned about the dead was that their vibration is higher because a vessel is not constricting their energy; at that level, they can readily perceive your thoughts, your emotions. It’s not as clear as I am sure they would like, but it does give them all the insight they need to toy with you. I was going to have to keep everything on lockdown around this ghost. If I didn’t, all the precautions Drake may have taken to protect me would be fruitless; Donalt would have his own little copy of the playbook.

No matter how hard I focused, I could not see into Donalt; not one single flash into his mind. He was by far the most regal ghost I’d ever faced. I was going into this blind, so I was going to have to play my words just right.

“That must blow.”

My response made him smirk.

“Being a king does not, as you say, blow.”

“It would be hell for me,” I said with a careless shrug of my shoulders as I swayed my feet in the water.

“Then why are you seeking to be a queen?” he asked as he raised the one eyebrow he did have.

“Who said I was?”

“You are courting a future king, are you not?”

I had to ponder this. Part of me wanted to be real with this ghost—stop the charades that were meant for a court that was trying to overthrow Drake. I assumed if Drake was in fact overthrown, that would not bode well for Donalt; what is the purpose of taking over a body that has no life? Donalt had a stake in all of this. I was sure of it.

My memory flashed an image before me. Again, it was of the diamond eyes that belonged to a strong regal figure, one that for some reason continued to make me think of peppermints. I remembered the words Drake had said I murmured in my dream and decided to fake hate.

“I was brought here against my will,” I fumed.

“Now, I know that is a lie. I destroyed the island this vessel was born on myself.”

I gave him a once over. “You may want to look into a trade. Your current vessel looks a wee bit worn.”

He chuckled as I pointed out the obvious.

“And just because you destroyed something doesn’t meant that it no longer exists, and even if it didn’t exist, that does not mean that I wasn’t brought here against my will.”

“Interesting,” he mused as his one eye appraised me.

“So what is your deal anyway?”

“My deal?” he breathed.

“Yeah, your deal? Y
ou said you were the King of Fear. I get that. I know you’re dead. I know you don’t want to be. Have you ever heard of reincarnation? Seems like that would have saved you some trouble. Wouldn’t you rather be some cute little baby than what you are?”

“You speak your mind.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Not many. No wonder the King of O
bsession is fascinated with you.”

“Oh, so you share your rule?” You would have thought we were s
itting on a park bench, as casual as I was being.

“I share fear with no one!” he bellowed into the echo of the stone room. I had found a weak spot in him. Go me. “I was not the fool who decided to divide his reign.” The growl in his voice emphasized his rage. He had already admitted that there were two kings—maybe that was my seven—maybe I could get him to admit that there were that many; at least then I would know what that number meant.

“The King of Obsession did that, I assume.”

“No, he is no fool.” He glanced over me. “He obviously has good taste in women.”

I playfully glared at him. “All right, then. Well, you can’t blame the king of whatever for sharing. I’m sure it’s hard to be a king. Maybe he wanted a break.”

“Then he should have asked us, not brought a woman into the sacred circle.”

“Ah, now tell me you’re not sexist. If you are, I might join the hunt for your head.”

“I am
not,
” he said as that one eye glared at me. “She toyed with his thoughts. Now he sees us as evil. He is the fool.”

“Us, the other—” I play counted on my fingers, “two kings.”

“Five,” he said as he tilted his head back. “You knew that.”

So I was right about the seven kings. Donalt was one—five others were on his side, and one stood against him—obviously, one that divided his reign with a woman. That is what I love about obsession: it always leads you to the answers you are seeking.

“Did I?”

“You act as if you knew that,” he mused as he gazed forward at the water.

“I know nothing beyond the fact that all of this is ridiculous.”

“There is a point.”

“Enlighten me.”

“If you do not know about the seven, then you will not understand. And I don’t have time to be nursemaid to you. You will be dead before the week is out.”

“Thanks for the heads-up. I don’t need a nursemaid or your drama.”

“Drama?” He let the word roll of
f the half of the lip he still had. “I did not cause this strife. If I was left alone, there would be no drama.”

“Call me crazy, but tormenting an entire dimension and traumatizing a little boy invokes drama.”

“Is that what Drake told you?”

“I don’t listen when he speaks, so I couldn’t tell you. But I have eyes. This place sucks, and you don’t become as angry as Drake is if you were not tortured in some way.”

“Anger is his line.”

Line? Was that what they called their reigns? Was Drake born of one that was ruled by anger? That memory of peppermint teased my senses, and for some reason my cousin Draven came to mind as well. Maybe that was it, maybe that was why my cousin and Drake were slated to this curse: the other six kings had found fault with their king—they were tormenting that king by tempting his line of followers. If that were true, though, why had no one mentioned that? Why was everyone so focused on this one dimension? This drama seemed far too massive and aged for one dimension to bear the brunt of it.

“Line of what?”

He chuckled. “And we thought you were a threat.”

“Who’s we? The Seven?”

“Six.”

I nodded once as he clearly confirmed my math: six against one.

“Trust me when I tell you that I am here by mistake. You already have a green-eyed girl to annoy.”

“That, I do,” he hissed.

“Did she do this to you?” I asked as I gave him another once over.

“She had help.”

“Ah, the love triangle.”

“The spells.”

“Oh, so you are a witch, king, and a ghost—sure you don’t have an identity crisis?”

“Amusing.”

“Just saying.”

“I am a king above all. I have a duty to fulfill.”

Now, that statement reflected his dying thoughts or illusions. Our own personal arrogance always surfaces in our darkest hour, and if you led a life of torment, that arrogance always reared its ugly head at the moment of death.

“What duty was given to you?” It was a bleak comment, but it seemed to slice into him. He went rigid for an instant.

“It matters not.”

“Sure it does. I doubt Landen and Willow decided to give you hell for the sake of avoiding boredom.”

“You inquire too much,” he scoffed.

I needed to back off before this took a nasty turn for the worst.

“Passionately curious.”

“Passionately obsessive.”

“That, I am,” I said with a wide grin.

“Well, child, you are too far off course to understand my path.”

“Your course is not mine to understand.”

That one eye of his appraised me once more. “You. You are more than meets the eye. Worth salvaging. I would stand with you. Therefore, I will tell you that Xavier is plotting to frame you. The first piece was set in place tonight.”

“Must have missed that memo.”

“Memo?”

“Sarcasm. Do you speak sarcasm? It’s a rather fun language.”

“I do not.”

“Right. So your sense of humor is missing, too.”

The perplexed stare in his one eye was near humorous. “You do not inquire why or how he will end you?”

“That is his business. I’m just making the best of a bad situation.”

“By diving into waters that you have no business in.”

“By facing fear.”

“Watch your words. You are looking into the eyes of fear.”

“Eye. You’re missing one.”

He narrowed his one eye at me, but it was playful enough for me not to put my guard up. “Xavier rules shock, and we all are aware that he never reveals his intentions completely; therefore, he may very well be plotting to take us all down.” He glanced over me. “That is far more concerning to me than any triangle that is fighting me.” After a moment, he spoke again. “The King of Obsession will kill you to save you from Xavier.”

“Do kings not realize that there are better ways to get a girl’s attention?”

He leered. “Why would he change his play now?” His eye focused on me. “That is what he has done in each of your lives. The others believe that he is protecting himself, but I know better. I saw how he looked at you today.”

So whoever this was had seen me; the question was, did I see them?

I raised my hands to tell him I was clueless. That just made him laugh again.

“Blind fate—I never have understood how humans withstand that,” he grumbled.

“Maybe because when you jack with fate you end up looking like you?”

“Not amused.”

“Your eye smiled.”

He moved his head from side to side in dismay. “I have warned you of your death. You can fight if you wish. It matters not to me.”

“I’m sure it does. I brought doubt to your Willow. Are you not playing matchmaker?”

“One way or another, I will rule this world again. If Willow happens to prevail, if Drake happens to adore another in her place…there is a spell in place to claim their children.”

“You are going to steal babies? Right when I thought I liked you.”

“Not infants. They will grow, the cycle will repeat, and against their parents’ will
, they will follow down the same dark path—only that time, I will already know when and how to strike.”

He was delusional. What he was speaking was what he believed when he died. I know for a fact that Willow and Landen had already made it past far more trials than Donalt or any other evil would have assumed that they would.

“And if there are no children?”

“There will be.”

“You are playing this all wrong.”

Quickly, he moved back as if my words had struck him. “How do you mean?”

“Willow and Landen already know your game—the smart thing to do would be to leave them be and bide your time.”

“Did they take your humanity when they drained you?”

Who was this ‘they’? I already knew that Monroe’s powers were the ones that had altered my insights. Now, how did I know that and they didn’t? And who was taking credit for that in the first place?

“Maybe. Just looking at this from an objective perspective.”

“Spells have chained us. We must complete this task.”

Once again, that was what he believed when he died. Like a fool, the last thing he had considered was Landen and Willow prevailing.

“It’s going to suck if you lose,” I muttered.

“I’m not going to lose. They will end their quest soon enough. They are already keeping their distance from this palace.”

“Right.” This guy was clueless.

“You believe me not.”

“Why should I? How do I know that Xavier did not put you up to speaking to me? You want me to fret over a death that I have no power to stop. You want me to believe that some phantom king has the hots for me. What’s the point?”

“You implore a sign of good grace.”

“Not really.”

“Why are you so difficult?”

“I’m not. The only good grace you could give me is a ticket out of this hell, and apparently Xavier has that planned out.”

“He needs to be taken down,” he grumbled.

“Well, I’m sure someone is working on that.”

“You dive. When he begins the spell, you dive. Swim north. You will find what you need there.”

“Sure. Swim into a trap.”

“Not a trap. It was Xavier’s plot that led you down the roa
d you are on. He convinced the King of Obsession that if he complied, you would forget your quest, you would commit to him.”