Read Wicked Waves: Solsti Prophecy #2 Online
Authors: Sharon Kay
W
ICKED
W
AVES
A Solsti Prophecy Novel
Sharon Kay
Also by Sharon Kay
(Solsti Prophecy #1)
This is a work of fiction. Any actual places are used in a fictional context. Other names of places and people are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual places or people is purely coincidental.
Edited by Janet Michelson
Cover art by Amanda Simpson at Pixel Mischief
Interior design by
Ink Slinger Editorial Services
FIRST EDITION
W
ICKED
W
AVES
Copyright © 2013 Sharon Kay
All rights reserved.
Kindle Edition
A
CKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thank you to my amazing husband, for your patience and support of my writing. You are wonderful to brainstorm with about plots and powers. I love you!
Thank you to my son. I’ll always be here to “hug and kiss you for one hundred days.”
Thank you to my parents and siblings, my in-laws, and my extended family for your love and encouragement of my creativity.
Thank you to my critique partners for picking apart my rough draft: Amy, Cam, Claudia, Cristin, Jamie, Kaci, Racquel, and Victoria. You all rock!
Thank you to my team of beta readers, for helping me polish the final version: Cristin, Diana, Gina, Heather, Jamie, Racquel, and Skye
And a huge, sincere THANK YOU to my readers! Without you, these stories would remain untold. I hope you have as much fun reading Wicked Waves as I had writing it!
C
ONTENTS
P
ROLOGUE
Demon realm of Torth
1842 A.D.
T
HE
DOOR
TO
THE
SLAVE
quarters burst open, swinging so quickly that it ricocheted off the stone wall behind it. A Serus demon stumbled in, a tangle of limbs, howling in pain and clutching his shoulder. Kai hadn’t seen him before. If he was new, the cuts on his shoulder blade would be fresh. Drant, the leader of this barren wasteland of a region, marked all his captives the same way. Twin vertical slashes down one shoulder blade, doused with Viper venom to ensure permanent scarring.
Kai eyed the new arrival with disinterest.
I’ll probably see him in the arena soon, and beat his sorry ass
. Which would give him the chance to fight another fight. Blood sport reigned here. The crowds craved it. More important, Drant hungered for it.
“You’re up, Kai,” one of the guards called to him.
Kai strode toward the heavy wooden door where two guards waited to escort him to the ring. He’d bested every opponent so far. Each incoming wave of conscripted fighters brought news of Kai’s growing reputation. Drant's minions scoured the realm, dragging in new slaves, and some of them were prone to chatter. Word had traveled that Drant held an unbreakable Lash demon contender.
Kai passed the Serus demon writhing on the floor. The guy would be in mind-numbing pain for a day, hurting too badly to pick a fight with anyone. Kai rolled his shoulders.
His own scar had stopped hurting months ago, but the mark burned in his memory. He didn’t fucking belong to anyone.
Reaching the slave quarters entrance, the guards grabbed his upper arms and herded him along the tunnel to the arena.
Two more guards remained stationed at the door. No one, slave or guard, ever left Drant’s compound alive.
Kai planned to change that. Soon. The months of seeking an escape, the months of waiting for an opportunity, would all come to fruition.
A towering guard named Garrod had spoken to him last week as they waited in the tunnel for Kai’s next fight. A huge scar ran across Garrod’s face from his eyebrow to his chin, courtesy of Drant’s torture room. Drant ruled through fear and cruelty, not by instilling loyalty.
“Fucker nearly blinded me,” Garrod growled.
“Looks like he failed,” Kai said. He didn’t know why Garrod volunteered the information, and he didn’t care.
“Didn’t leave me any good options,” Garrod grunted. “The only way he wouldn’t kill me is if I worked for him.”
The next day, Drant’s minions hauled in a Neshi demon. Kai didn’t miss Garrod’s snarl as he shoved the orange-skinned beast into the slave quarters.
Marching Kai into the tunnel again the next day, Garrod let his rage show. “That Neshi motherfucker beat, raped, and killed my sister,” he hissed. “And I can’t touch his sorry ass.”
Kai eyed Garrod’s ruined face, remembering rumors that reached the slaves’ room.
Drant forbids his guards from beating the slaves. Asshole saves that perversion for himself
.
“Let’s make an agreement, Lash. When you face that shit-eating Neshi in the ring, kill him as painfully as possible,” Garrod ordered, his voice shaking with rage. “And I will help you escape. I swear on my sister’s name.”
Kai had agreed, keeping his outward mood stoic. But inside, every fiber of his being thundered with anticipation. This was his chance. No more guards or cells. No more magic-dampening spells or venom.
Freedom.
Finally!
Now he faced the beast who haunted Garrod.
The Neshi roared into the arena, swords swinging from two of its four arms. Kai conjured a ball of orange demonfire in his palm and hurled it at his opponent. Then he did it again.
The Neshi grunted as fire licked along two of its arms. The tough, reddish-orange skin burned slowly, allowing it to keep fighting for several more minutes. Until the miserable fuck felt the burn, Kai had other plans for it.
Howling with rage, the creature charged. Kai darted to the side as it neared, then lunged toward it, severing one of its sword arms. Blood flew in an arc as the limb landed with a thud. The crowd screamed for more.
The tip of the Neshi’s remaining sword grazed Kai’s chest. Jeers erupted from the stands. “You got lucky, cocksucker,” Kai growled. In a blur he spun, using his momentum to tear a deep gash in the other demon’s belly.
Its huge mouth contorted in rage as blood poured to the ground. Kai used the split second of hesitation to sever another arm.
The sound that escaped the Neshi’s mouth was a heinous snarl colored by pain.
Demonfire’s taking its toll
. The thing swung at Kai, its strike weak and off-target. Kai lopped off the arm still holding a sword.
The crowd went wild as the Neshi slumped to its knees in a pool of blood. The one arm still attached was consumed by flames. Still, its dark eyes flashed with hatred.
“Kill!
Kill!” yelled the charged voices of the standing-room-only crowd.
Kai obliged, cutting off the fourth arm and then decapitating the thing. Hoots and screams echoed off the stone walls of the ring. The orange torso lay among smoldering limbs.
Eyes shining with gratitude and vengeance, Garrod escorted him from the raucous scene back to the slave quarters. “Be ready in two nights,” he said, his voice low and filled with determined promise.
The sun rarely shone in this part of Torth, but Kai’s body told him that the deepest part of the night stretched across the quiet compound. Most of the residents needed at least a little rest. Garrod appeared at the heavy wooden door, visible through the small square window in the center. It wasn’t unusual for Drant to send for a slave to be brought to his torture chamber. The others would assume that Drant wanted to humiliate Kai, to prevent him from getting too cocky in the wake of all his wins.
Garrod opened the door and beckoned to Kai, who schooled his features into the cool mask he assumed whenever he entered the ring. Only when Garrod led him away from the door and into a deserted corridor did he meet Kai’s eyes.
“We’ll head toward the torture chamber,” Garrod said. “The only other door in that wing is his bedroom. He’s in there with his favorite thrall.”
Garrod handed him a dagger. “It would be better if I take you to the gate. Will you not reconsider?”
Kai shook his head. “None of us deserve to be here. He can play his sick games with death.”
Drant had made his fortune with the blood of slaves, and Kai looked forward to ending the demented fuck’s life.
“It’s risky to attempt this. There are rumors that he knows magic,” Garrod said as they walked.
Kai snorted. “He won’t have a chance to try it.”
As they turned a corner to Drant’s private wing, they saw a guard posted outside the door to his suite. “I’ll take care of him,” Garrod said, opening his clenched palm to reveal a vial of Viper venom. Kai raised an eyebrow at the guard’s treason and grinned.
“I’ve already signed my death warrant just by bringing you here,” Garrod muttered. “My sister’s murder is avenged. I may as well go down fighting.”
Kai nodded. The guard at the door wouldn’t expect any treachery from Garrod.
“State your business,” the guard said as they approached.
“The master has requested his top fighter,” Garrod told him.
“He gave orders not to be disturbed.” The guard looked Kai up and down, eyes narrowed.
Garrod leaned into the guard, a leer curling across his scarred face. “He would like additional
entertainment
tonight.”
The guard shifted his gaze to Garrod, but Garrod’s arm snapped up before he could say anything. He plunged the vial into the guard’s neck, and the guard slipped to the floor.
“Go,” Garrod told Kai, nodding to the wooden door. “I’ll put him in the torture chamber.”
Kai opened the door without a sound, his acute night vision taking in the details of the dimly lit space.
The light from the fire in the corner lit Drant’s bare back as he stood, the nude slave on her knees in front of him. She had a collar locked around her neck, the tips of its inner spikes resting against her skin. Kai knew that type of collar. All Drant had to do was pull on the length of chain attached to it and the collar would tighten, the sharp points piercing flesh. He supposed it was one way to prevent the thrall from biting Drant’s cock, which was deep inside her mouth.
Discarding subtlety, Kai strode into Drant’s line of vision.
“You!” the tyrant hissed. “How did you get in here?”
He pushed the thrall away, and she scooted backward to cower next to a large chair.
“Doesn’t matter,” Kai said in a low voice. He stood before Drant, every muscle tensed for battle.
“Your success has made you bold,” Drant said. “You overstep your bounds, slave. It looks like today’s fight was your last.”
He grabbed a knife from the chair and lunged.
Mindful of the blade, Kai caught Drant’s shoulders and yanked him down, then rolled and pinned him on the floor. Drant slammed his beefy fist into Kai’s jaw.
Kai didn’t flinch. He grabbed Drant’s head and slammed it into the stone floor. He did it again, and Drant made a muddled sound.
In a flash of silver, Kai held his dagger to Drant’s throat. “You don’t deserve a quick death,” he snarled. “But I’m not spending one extra second in this hellhole.”
“Fool!
My sons will find you. They won’t rest until your limbs have all been torn off and sent to separate realms!”
“Then they’ll be looking for a long time.” Kai’s voice was as calm as the mirrored surface of a pond. He sliced the dagger across Drant’s throat, then stood and raised his hand palm up, summoning a ball of demonfire. The orange light bobbed in his palm, growing from a spark to the size of an apple. Kai flung it at Drant, watching his body flame and smolder into a pile of ash.
He picked up a ring of iron keys from the floor and flipped through it. Kneeling beside the thrall, he unlocked her collar. He had heard stories of how Drant treated the females he captured. “I’m guessing you want to get out of here as bad as I do,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said in a tiny voice laced with fear. The gods only knew how long she had been forced to bend to Drant’s depraved whims. She grabbed a gauzy robe from the chair and hurried out the door without looking back.
After a quick raid of Drant’s stash of weapons and money, Kai followed her. He could do a lot of damage with the dagger from Garrod—hell, he could kill a demon with his bare hands. But having extra weapons was always a good idea.