Hearts of Darkness (29 page)
Read Hearts of Darkness Online
Authors: Kira Brady
Its talons scraped for purchase along the stone floor. The sound was awful: a bow across a saw magnified a thousand fold. The Thunderbird slid the length of the hall and crashed into the dais at Norgard's feet. Its feathers began to shiver. A milky glow appeared at the creature's neck. It flexed its shoulders, and the light fell down its wings like a blanket being shrugged off. Bone, muscle, and feather disappeared behind the ripple of light, leaving a brawny human body behind. Blood dripped down the left arm from the man's armpit. He tossed his Thunderbird head, and the long hooked beak fell backward like a mask and disappeared, leaving square features and close-cropped dark hair. His violet eyes flashed with hate.
“Bravo,” Norgard said. “I haven't had such a close demonstration since I captured that ravishing Kivati female back in 1900.”
The Kivati curled his fist as if to conjure a thunderbolt from the Aether. A few sparks shot from between his bloody fingers, but he didn't have enough strength. He drew his lips back in a snarl and rushed the throne. Naked as the day he was born. Weaponless. He would have made a fine berserker.
Rockets continued to bombard the cliff face, destabilizing the ground. The Hall shook.
“Let's make this more interesting, shall we?” Norgard said. The arms of the gilded throne ended in two bone hilts. He seized these and pulled up, lifting the swords from their secret resting place. He tossed one to the Kivati and raised his own. The man grabbed the sword mid-arc and rolled. He slashed out at Norgard's legs. Norgard parried the thrust.
“What prompted this foolish mission?” Norgard asked as he sliced the Kivati's injured arm. A thin ribbon of blood welled from the cut.
“The Gate must . . . unh!” The Kivati lunged, but the ground shuddered beneath them at the same time, and his sword slipped.
Norgard evaded easily with a step left. “Keep your tip up. Must what?”
The man held his injured arm tightly against his side. Blood had dribbled all the way to his knee. He would soon expire all on his own. Norgard glanced around the Great Hall to see his men in battle with the other five Thunderbirds. Three had Turned to dragon and flew about the ceiling. Bone chandeliers crashed to the ground in their wake.
Where were his other soldiers? The battle must be in more places than this.
The Kivati in front of him took advantage of his momentary distraction. The man tossed his sword to his left arm, which appeared to be not as injured as he had let on. Norgard blocked the offensive thrust, but while his sword was engaged, the Kivati Changed his right hand to claw. He raked Norgard down the right side of his face, drawing blood. He dug his talons into Norgard's throat and held tight.
Norgard couldn't move. He swallowed. “Good show. Now tell me, must what?”
“The Gate must stay closed.”
“Ah, yes.” Norgard saw Thorsson sneaking up behind the Kivati. He didn't let his face betray anything. “I assume you found out about the necklace? I've had it for quite a few years. Why now?”
The Kivati squeezed his talons. “The princessâ”
Thorsson plunged his sword between the man's shoulder blades. His body stiffened. His eyes bulged and his mouth fell open. His fingers released the sword in his left hand, and it clattered to the floor. Norgard used the opportunity to raise his sword and slice off the man's clawed hand that still grasped his throat. Blood splattered Norgard's chest and face, but he felt immediate relief in his poor pincushion of a neck.
“Bloody hell, Erik. Let the man finish his thought. The Kivati princess . . . what? She's had some new blasted prophecy? She's sneezed, and they blame me? What? Answer me, damn you!”
Red spittle appeared at the corners of the Kivati's mouth. His lungs wheezed like a ruptured bagpipe. Thorsson braced his foot against the Kivati's back and yanked out the sword. The man crumpled to the ground.
Thorsson bowed his head. “Oops.”
Norgard turned to survey the Hall. The storm blasted through the broken window. It hurled glittering hail, leaving a blanket of ice on the stone floor. Knife-sharp winds ripped through the room, tearing the tapestries from their hangings and knocking about the few remaining chandeliers. Three of his men and two of the Kivati lay lifeless on the floor like colorful piles of modern art: splattered with red and blue paint, bone and sinew torn open to the air. The others still fought.
“Check the Hall doors,” he ordered. “Something has prevented my men from making a dramatic entrance.”
Thorsson wiped his bloody sword on the skin of the slain Kivati. “Ja, Regent.” He returned shortly. “Locked from the outsideâ”
“Seems our recent guest has been busy spilling all our little secrets. The window it is.”
“Ja, but, surely, it is a trapâ”
“Of course. Corbette stands atop the cliff directing this storm. It would be rude to ignore him.” Norgard staggered as the cliff took another hit. Precious jewels from the ceiling rained down. “Besides, I believe the roof is about to cave in.” He felt his skin stretch and his jaw jut out. The familiar burn ran down his spine as his body grew. The air crackled with magic. His shoulder blades ripped through the skin of his back and sprouted wings. He flexed his new dragon body, flapped his wings, and pushed away from the ground with his muscled thighs.
It would take more than a spot of bad weather to take down a dragon as old as he.
Chapter 19
Kayla crouched over an injured Kivati warrior and pressed gauze tightly against his wound. He'd been gouged by a dragon from his sternum to his groin. She tried to ignore the battle, pain, and death surrounding her.
Hart stood over her with his arsenal of weapons slaying anything that got too close. He really was good at his job. The thought sent a sick jolt through her gut. She was a healer. He was a killer. She'd always abhorred violence, but this time she appreciated Hart's skill. He was using it to protect her. Nothing got past him, except the weather. Hail beat on her back as she tried to shield her patient's body.
The Raven Lord had called a storm to ravage the cliff face. He didn't seem to care about the damage to the rest of the city. Boats in the marina far below crashed against the rocks; their timbers bobbed in the angry waves like the bones of drowned sailors. Trees were pulled up by their roots, and the larger branches whipped against neighboring houses like giant battering rams.
The screeching wind masked the battle cries.
Her patient was dying. She could feel the light inside him flicker and slowly fade. “No, damn it!” She drew on her own soul and tried to give him strength as one would stoke a dying fire. It didn't work. He was losing too much blood.
Her eyes flitted over the battlefield and landed on a fallen dragon twenty feet away. “Hart!” she yelled over the wind. “I need blood.”
He scowled back at her, not wanting to leave her side. Who else in her life had ever tried to protect her? She had always been the strong one.
“Please.” She saw the struggle in his gorgeous eyes, but he couldn't refuse her. He checked the sky and surrounding field. No enemies were near. With a backward glance, he sprinted to the dying dragon. He cut the monster's throat and filled his scabbard with the blue-black blood. When he returned, she accepted the scabbard. The Kivati was too far gone to drink it. Would it work applied topically? She had to try. She poured it over the deep wound in the Kivati's chest.
His eyes shot open. The blood on his chest seemed to bubble. He cried out and flailed on the slick grass. Before her eyes, the skin regenerated and knit together over the deep cut. He clutched his left breast, but it seemed to be in surprise more than pain. A deep moan reverberated in his throat.
“I think you'll live,” she told him.
The next moment the sky erupted in a fountain of flame. Kivati and Drekar on the field threw themselves to the ground to escape the sparks. Iridescent purple wings emerged from behind the cliff, followed by a long, rusty snout and row upon row of sharp, jagged teeth. The dragon that rose into the sky was the largest she'd seen yet. Powerful too, for the Raven Lord's weather didn't blow the creature off course. Oval scales glittered over its sleek muscles. It hung suspended over the battlefield, beautiful and terrible at the same time. The ancient being surveyed the field almost lazily, until its eyes caught Kayla.
“Norgard,” Hart said in her ear.
She'd seen him as dragon before, but her brain had blocked the memory. She tried to connect the urbane gentleman she'd met to this nightmare creature. Something in those hollow eyes gave him away. Her presence seemed to enrage Norgard as the attack on his lair hadn't. The dragon's huge chest inflated as if to breathe a mouthful of fire. Kayla could already smell the burnt meat and cinders, along with a peculiar hint of cinnamon.
Hart threw himself over her. His weight crushed her into the scorched grass, knocking the breath from her lungs. From beneath Hart's arm, she watched the dragon lurch toward her. Its tail caught on something, and it jerked in the air. There was a general cry from the field. Kayla pushed Hart's arm out of her view. A second dragon had emerged from behind the cliff and sunk its teeth into Norgard's tail. They had similar builds, though the second dragon was slightly smaller. Its red scales were tipped in green, as if moss had crept over them with the rain and damp. It seemed younger somehow, but it was deadly serious about its attack on Norgard.
Who could this be? Which of Norgard's men would side with the Kivati?
Hart seemed to read her mind. “His brother, Leif Asgard,” he shouted in her ear.
“Why would he help us?”
“Don't know.”
Norgard's long body twisted in the air until he reached his brother's left wing. His teeth tore into the thin membrane, but Asgard didn't let go of his tail. Asgard's weight pulled Norgard toward the ground. They rolled in the air, shimmering coils moving smoothly over and around each other, gripping, squeezing. Kayla glanced around the field. The other dragons didn't seem to know whether to continue fighting the Thunderbirds and Kivati, or to come to their leader's aid.
Asgard was tilting heavily toward his injured wing. He needed help, but the Kivati didn't seem eager to interrupt the fighting dragons.
“Get up,” she hissed in Hart's ear. Norgard had been distracted by her before, maybe he could be again.
“Don't think I can't tell you're plotting something,” Hart growled.
“Trust me.”
He didn't give his trust easily. His skin grew hot to the touch. She knew how much he hated Changing, but he would do it willingly to protect her. One Wolf couldn't take down an army of Kivati and Drekar. She had to do something before he tried. She couldn't live with herself if anything happened to him. How could one man grow so important to her in such a short time?
His body suffused with a golden glow. She felt fur sprout beneath her fingers. His jaw lengthened, and his teeth grew. She used his distraction to slither out from beneath him. When she turned, a huge timber Wolf with eerie violet eyes growled behind her. He lunged in front of her. His head reached her breasts.
“I have to help. Come with me if you want, but don't stop me from trying.” She buried her hands in his fur and tugged.
He allowed her to move, but shadowed her so closely that her knees knocked against him at every step. She clutched his fur for courage. He wouldn't let anything happen to her. Slowly, they made it across the field to the edge of the cliff. It was idiocy to get closer to the battling dragons, but she had to do something.
“Norgard!” she shouted. Her cry was lost in the howling wind.
Corbette noticed her perched on the edge, and the first bit of color flashed over his gaunt face. She wasn't sure if his visible fatigue was a result of the battle or his worry for Lucia. He motioned to his men. Suddenly Kayla found herself caught between the cliff edge and a line of predators. Kivati who hadn't Changed held guns cocked and pointed at her.
Hart's flank pushed against her hip as he tried to bare his teeth in all directions. The fur on his back stood straight up.
Above them, Norgard noticed the movement and twisted around to glare at the ground. He hovered with Asgard's long head between his sharp talons.
“Norgard!” Corbette shouted. “I'll blow her to pieces if you move a muscle.” The wind carried his voice so that it boomed over the battlefield.
The dragon raised its head and screeched. It sounded halfway between a bird of prey and a tiger.
“We only want the princess,” Corbette yelled over the crash of the waves. “A trade: Lucia for the human.”
Anger washed through Kayla's fear. Corbette had planned to sell her out. No, he wouldn't. She was partially Kivati, and he needed her to close the Gate. Didn't he? No wonder Hart had so much trouble trusting anyone. No one in this city seemed to be worthy of it.
Norgard still hesitated.
“She's untouched, dragon,” Corbette lied. “Going once . . . going twice . . .”
Hart snapped his teeth in the Raven Lord's direction.
Norgard dropped through the air with Asgard clutching his back. His claws scraped for purchase along the edge of the cliff. He hauled himself over, and his brother followed. Both were the worse for wear, covered in blood and broken scales. Asgard Turned and collapsed to the ground. Norgard was more graceful; one moment his talons gouged the soaked earth, the next his bare feet padded softly forward. No hitch in his gait. Even naked and in human form, he radiated power. The rain slicked his blond mane back from his face and drizzled down his sculpted body.
“Hold your blasted fire,” Norgard ordered.
The brothers resembled each other, though Asgard was slightly swarthier. He panted on the ground as his wounds slowly healed in the open air. The hurt in his eyes as he looked at his brother shocked her. She had thought all Drekar were evil, but Asgard seemed more human than most.
She kept her eyes raised as Norgard strode toward her. He had nothing she wanted to see. Hart crouched between them, prepared to attack if Norgard didn't halt. A small, vicious part of her wanted Hart to attack. This was the man responsible for her sister's death. The man who kidnapped and drugged her, as he had countless women. A soul-sucking monster.
Norgard stopped ten feet from Hart's sharp teeth. “You think so little of my intellect, Corbette? A blind man could see that the Wolf has taken a mate.”
A mate? The word sounded more permanent than boyfriend, but she and Hart hadn't discussed the status of their relationship. It had happened so fast. Hart was protecting her at the moment, but what happened once they made it past this madness? When the adrenaline faded and real life began again, would he stick around? Or would he grow tired of her calm, boring lifestyle? The thought of him leaving made her heart squeeze unpleasantly in her chest.
Corbette widened his eyes a fraction, as if Norgard's accusation was a surprise. “You know Kivati are forbidden from taking human mates. This girl is yours for the taking.”
“In exchange for my surrender, of course.”
“Of course.”
A hundred paces behind Norgard, Asgard stirred. Achingly, he rose to his feet, his body now smooth and whole as if he'd never been scratched. The glacial cast of his face seemed devoid of emotion. His sea-green eyes fastened on his brother as if the rest of them were shadows. His long, sure strides narrowed the gap. “Sven, what have you done?” His voice held such pain and rage that even the Kivati took a step back.
Norgard drew himself straighter and turned to face his brother. “Only what was required for the survival of our people. You lack the courage, little brother. I have shielded you for your own sake.”
Asgard's eyes changed from green to fire. His grip on humanity hung by a knife's edge. “Raping women? Slaughtering innocents? Plotting to unleash the Horde? This is what is required for survival? At what price?”
Norgard snorted. “Humans are plentiful as grains of sand beneath the sea, and twice as expendable.”
Corbette crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you have any idea what would happen if the Gates open fully? You would lay waste to the world. There would be nothing left to rule but ruins and refugee camps. Much more profitable to concentrate on your business empireâ”
“It will never be enough,” Norgard snapped. “I will not accept crumbs when I am owed an empire. Don't you tire of living in the shadows? Don't you chafe at serving humans who would despise you if they knew what you were? Don't you weary of upholding a compact with gods who have forgotten you?”
Corbette's lips thinned, but he didn't disagree.
“I thought you might be interested in joining my little cause.” Norgard sauntered closer to Corbette until he stood just out of reach. The air crackled with power between the two. Norgard smiled lazily. “Have you ever taken down a human in animal form? No? It's a wonderful feeling. The bones snapping in your teeth. The hot blood streaming down your throat.” Norgard's half-lidded eyes glowed. He licked his lips. His naked body swayed toward the other man, a sensual offense that was either mad or brilliant.
It put the Raven Lord in an uncomfortable position, though his stoic expression hid it well. He obviously wanted to take a step back, but couldn't. He would not retreat from his enemy.
Norgard took a step closer so that their bodies were a hairbreadth apart. His pale skin contrasted sharply with Corbette's black leather. He tilted his head down, nose to nose with the shorter man. Corbette ground his teeth and held his ground.
“It's the hunt that truly gets the blood running,” Norgard crooned. “Hearing those little human heartbeats race and their pitiful mews of panicâah! Nothing can compare. Especially as you press those soft bodies to the ground and take what the good earth has given you. Our goddesses are not so different, Tiamat and your Lady. Both sacrificed their bodies for their children to live upon. Both gave their wombs to create the bounty of the earth. It would be rude to ignore their sacrifice by refusing that bounty.” He bent his head to touch his lips to Corbette's ear. “When you plunge into your human prey, whether with teeth or cock, you worship your goddess. She doesn't want your silly celibacy, your barren self-restraint. She is fertility. She is blood. She didn't build this world with hands and hammer, but birthed it bloody and heaving for her children to rule.”
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