Lone Star Magic (30 page)

“I’m surprised we can breathe. The air is so
thick.”

Alrick inhaled, choking on the fetid air.
“The Mage warned us.”

“Are we in Rune or the human world?”

“I don’t think this could be Rune. No Fae
could live like this.”

“Then that means…”

“We’re in danger from humans. Stay close to
me.” Grabbing Cenrick’s arm, he crept forward in the gloom. “If
Carly is here, it won’t be easy to find her.”

They heard the sound of footsteps, coming
towards them. Several people, running.

THE SECOND the Warlord placed his hand on her
arm, Carly’s blood turned to ice. His touch was cold – so friggin’
cold. She swore frost formed on her skin.

As they traveled through blackness, she
struggled to breathe. Each icy lungful she sucked in seared her
lungs. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Was this death
then?

Not death. Not yet. She could still feel the
Warlord’s wintry grip cutting into her flesh.

They were going to the Warlord’s world. Once
there, he meant to kill her. Would her death be a slow and
torturous one, or would he kill her quickly and cleanly, ensuring
she did not suffer?

“I’m not ready,” she said out loud. “I’ll
never be ready.”

The Warlord didn’t answer.

He’d won. Despite her ability to overcome her
aversion to violence, she’d been able to wound him. Yet somehow,
unlike books and movies, the bad guy had won. He’d captured his
prey easily. Because of her rash and foolish actions, she’d helped
him accomplish his goal.

How long before he killed her?

As air rushed past them, the cosmos of stars
winked in and out. This was different than crossing from Rune to
her world. Longer, requiring much more energy. Taking a wild guess,
she’d bet her enemy was taking her through time. To his world? Or
some other dark, dismal place, where he would find a quick and
efficient way to dispatch her?

Either way, he’d have a fight on his hands.
She wasn’t going to go down easily.

Finally, their headlong descent – or ascent –
she couldn’t tell if they were going up or down- slowed.

As she felt her body reassemble, she looked
down. Her feet had arrived intact, flip-flops and all. She stood on
an outcropping of black, porous rock. The Warlord kept his
death-grip upon her arm. She twisted once more in a futile attempt
to escape.

“Cease.” He turned his head towards her, his
eyes an no longer so icy. Instead they were an amazing and oddly
beautiful shade of blue. He lowered his hood. Carly gasped. The
Warlord could be Jude Law’s double, he so closely resembled the
actor. Either way, her enemy was the most gorgeous bad guy she’d
ever seen.

But he meant to kill her. And he was scary as
hell.

“Let go.” Despite her attempt at bravado, her
voice trembled.

“No.” He dragged her after him.

Carly dug in her heels. “If you plan to kill
me, kill me now.”

“Kill you?” One golden brow arched. His
amazingly blue gaze met hers. “You misunderstand, my dear Carly
Roberts. I don’t want to kill you. Not yet, at least. I mean to
make you my wife and impregnate you. Once you bear my son, then
you’ll die. Any child you have will be raised by me and me
alone.”

For a long moment, Carly couldn’t speak. When
she found her voice again, the Warlord had already started forward.
Like a wooden puppet, she continued to struggle as he pulled her
behind him.

She was glad she hadn’t said the words that
had immediately bubbled to her lips. She didn’t know what the
Warlord would do if he found out she might already be pregnant with
Alrick’s child, but she wasn’t betting it would be good.

Up they went, following a twisted path that
only led to more rock. The sky was an odd, ochre color and she saw
no sun, moon, or even clouds. Just smog or fog, drifting in wispy
tendrils near the ground. There were no trees or vegetation either.
Were they on some other planet? Or had they gone way back in time,
to an era before man had walked the earth.

Before there was man, was there Fae? An
actual giggle had escaped her before she realized she felt
lightheaded, dizzy even.

“You must be lonely,” she said, blurting out
the first thing she could think of.

He swung his head around to pierce her with
his gaze. “Lonely?”

“Yes. Don’t you live alone?” Ok, so she was
guessing. But maybe if she could keep him talking, she could
distract him from whatever he meant to do next. Like rape her?

“I’ve lived by myself ever since my wife and
daughter were taken from me,” he snarled.

Damn. Too late, she remembered what the Mage
had told her. How the Warlord’s family had been murdered by some
insurgent church or rebels or something.

Yikes. She struggled to remember his name.
When she did, she spoke it softly. “Valerian. Valerian Wake.”

“Yes.” He squinted at her in suspicion. “I’m
surprised they told you my name.”

“Of course they did. I’ve heard nothing else
since Alrick showed up on my doorstep a couple of weeks ago
claiming you wanted to kill me.”

Amusement danced across his refined features.
She shuddered. He might be beautiful to look at, but his gaze was
so cold. Unemotional. Like a robot or… a terminator.

Again she shivered.

Noticing, he shook his head. “I’m not so bad,
Carly Roberts. You shall be my wife, a great honor. And…” Ducking
his head, he appeared engrossed in studying his own, well-manicured
hands. “I have need of you. I’ll make this worth your while. I
might even keep you alive, if you please me.”

“If I please you?” She could scarcely believe
what she was hearing. “You’ve already told me you plan to kill me,
once I finish acting as your brood mare. Come on, I’m not that
stupid.”

“And I’m not that bad.” The look he gave her
was amused. “I’m just a regular guy, like anyone else, doing what
he has to do to make his place in the world.”

“A regular guy? Listen, you’ve done nothing
but make my life miserable. You burnt my barn, sent fire ants to my
house, put poisonous snakes in my bed, not to mention the attack of
the spiders.” She gave another shudder. “Then there was the
quicksand, the tornado, the flash flood, the forest fire – all
after-effects of your magic. You’ve been a royal pain in the
ass.”

“Have I?” He laughed, an oddly pleasant
sound, coming from a man like him.

Carly reminded herself that even mass
murderers and serial killers had usually fooled their victims. So
they guy was great to look at with a deep, mesmerizing voice. This
probably helped him convince his followers. In her time, at the
very least, he’d sell a lot of cars.

Random thoughts.
Focus
. She forced
herself to look at him, knowing she needed to distract him, keep
him talking, while the faint possibility of help still loomed.

“You said you were going to kill me,” she
reminded him. “Remember?” She’d heard that mass murderers and
serial killers often contradicted themselves with absolutely no
awareness of having done so. Perhaps that was the case with this
guy.

His smile broadened. “I remember. But I’ve
changed my mind. I was going to kill you. Since it took up all my
magic to travel through time, leaving little to use against you, I
changed plans. I decided to capture you instead. There is a better
way to use you, a superior way for you to serve the greater
good.”

Serve the greater good. Not only did he have
delusions of grandeur, but he’d given her a way to save her neck.
Pretending to study him with interest, she found her voice. “I like
the sound of that. The thought of being an influence on history has
always intrigued me. Tell me more.”

His eyes narrowed, making her fear she’d
overdone it. But then he smiled again, apparently convinced she was
beginning to buy into his fantasy. “You are to become my second
wife. Here in Rune, away from the taint of them and their
machines.”

Rune. Okay. And he didn’t like machines. She
filed that away for future reference. “You still haven’t told me
why—.”

“Your son.”

A spurt of anger shook her. “Yes, my son.
Let’s talk about him. I’ve heard he leads a group of oppressed
people against an evil Warlord bent on killing them. More than
killing, actually. Eradicating them from the face of the
earth.”

The amusement leached slowly from his
features. “They butchered my family, slaughtered my innocent wife
and daughter in front of me.” Bitterness rang in his voice.
“Countless Fae and half-Fae have died at their hands. Yet they call
me the evil one.”

What could she say? “I have nothing to do
with these people.”

He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “I tried
to resurrect them, it was my
right
to bring them back to
life, and he stopped me. Your son, the person he is now, took away
my greatest desire.”

What, not world domination? She bit her lip.
“You’re scaring the hell out of me.”

Instantly, his expression changed. Became the
friendly, harmless expression of before. Just a clean-cut, regular
guy, not a crazed murderer.

“My apologies.” He held out his hand. She
noticed he had long, elegant fingers. “Come to me willingly,
beautiful Carly. Together, we can create great things. Our son will
rule the world.”

“But—.”

“Our son will rule the world,” he repeated,
his words echoing.

She took a step back. “I won’t marry
you.”

“The wedding will be in less than an hour.”
The Warlord smiled, a singularly beautiful expression that she now
recognized as evil.

“Look, Warlord—.”

“Call me Valerian.”

Oh, geez. She swallowed. “Okay, Valerian.
What’s the hurry?”

Lifting her head, she did her best to appear
offended. “If you want to have a proper wedding, one befitting your
station, you’ve got to plan better than this. You’re not even
giving me time to find a dress or get my hair done.”

Her ruse failed. “Don’t take me for a fool,”
he snarled. “Pretending you’re a willing bride won’t stall the
ceremony. And there
will
be a ceremony. In front of all of
my people. Clothing has been provided. You will be bathed and
perfumed and servants will be sent to dress you.”

She glanced down at her flip-flop clad feet,
at the black porous rock on which she stood. The fog was so thick
she couldn’t see beyond the Warlord. For all she knew, this Rune of
the future was a hollow shell of Alrick’s Rune. No trees, no
buildings, no people, no life.

Refusing to give up, she tried again. “If the
wedding is in less than a hour, we’d better get a move on.”

Narrowing his eyes, he studied her. She
resisted the urge to squirm under his piercing gaze. “What are you
planning?”

Setting her jaw, she glared at him and said
nothing. Truth was, she had no actual plan, but it couldn’t hurt to
let him think she did. After all, he hadn’t even noticed her
sword.

Her sword
. She hadn’t had time to
learn to properly use it, but Alrick had shown her the basics. How
hard could such a thing be? She’d cut him once, she could do it
again. Question was – could she kill?

His gaze flicked to her scabbard. She must
have accidentally flexed her fingers.

“That’s Fae. Where did you get that?” He took
a step toward her, his expression menacing.

Now or Never. What the hell – she had nothing
left to lose.

With the eerie sing-song of crystal, Carly
drew her sword. “From the Mage of Rune.” She thought of all the
movies she’d seen, and her next words might have been written for
one of them. “He made it from Fae ice, Fae power, and Fae
magic.”

Her sword began to glow.

The Warlord stopped in his tracks. His smile
chilled her to the bone. “Give me that.”

She shook her head. “No.”

He spoke a few words. Unintelligible to her,
but they must have been words to a spell for the hair rose on her
arms.

From nowhere, a wind appeared, smelling of
sulphur and sweat. Magic, but a magic unlike any she’d ever
experienced before. This was a foul magic. What had happened in
this time to make Rune such a nasty place?

Something stung her. And again. The air flung
grit into her eyes, so she couldn’t see. Blinding her. Picking at
her skin with one had, she tried to grip the sword menacingly with
the other.

Damn the Warlord and his magic. She spoke the
curse out loud.

Ignoring her, his voice built to a crescendo
as he wrapped up his spell.

The things attacking her became bolder, more
fierce. They bit with invisible teeth and clawed with razor sharp
talons. Spurts of blood appeared on her arms, long welts and cuts
all over her body.

“Stop.” She ordered, unthinkingly.

The wind immediately died, the things
attacking her vanished.

With a shaking hand, she lifted the sword
higher. As the smoky smog drifted, she realized the Warlord –
Valerian – had advanced another five feet. He grinned maliciously
down at her.

“Don’t come any closer.” To her surprise, he
obeyed. Curiosity shone in his gaze as he studied her and her
softly glowing sword. “My dear Carly Roberts. Such blades only glow
when magic lights them. Is it possible you are half-Fae?”

Confused, she frowned. “Not that I know
of.”

“Then how did you do that?” He indicated her
sword. “What spell did you use to counteract mine?”

Since she had no idea, she merely smiled,
bluffing. “Don’t underestimate me,” she warned.

“That sword.” His face contorted. “It’s
magical. The sword must be feeding you power. Give it to me.”

“No.”

“Give it to me now!” Like a man possessed, he
screamed at her. Spittle flew from him.

Using the back of her hand, she wiped her
face. “You’ll never take my sword. Come any closer and I’ll kill
you.”