A Passage of Threats Read online

  I cried and hiccupped and tried to pull myself together.

  “She was trying to plant doubt in my mind, trying to convince me that there’s a traitor among us, and then…and then he showed up, out of nowhere! He said ‘Gotcha!’ and I screamed and woke up.”

  Field kept quiet, listening as I wept and recounted my vision. I found warmth and comfort in his arms, enough to help me regain my composure as I wiped the tears from my eyes and looked up at him. My spine was stiff, riddled with chills.

  “He saw me… I don’t know how he did it, but he saw me. He knows I’m here now. He knows there’s an Oracle here.”

  It wouldn’t have taken a lot for Azazel to suspect there was an Oracle hiding beneath the protective shield, given that he’d already sensed us when we were first transported to Eritopia. But having absolute certainty brought on a whole new level of trouble, giving him the extra motivation to get past the spell.

  I couldn’t fathom the lengths he would be willing to go to in order to capture me now that he’d seen me. The stakes were immeasurably higher when an Oracle was the grand prize. I wondered whether Azazel would be able to breach the shield by using the young Daughter he had in his possession. He hadn’t done it up to that point, so perhaps it didn’t work that way.

  Serena

  The incubi had already gathered around us too quickly for any of us to draw our weapons in time. Sverik’s words regarding their scouting and assault prowess rang loud in my head. Jax was faster, though, his eyes glowing yellow as he subdued our attackers. They fell to their knees, whimpering and crying, stricken with inexplicable grief.

  “No, please stop! Don’t do this! No!” one of them sobbed, clutching his head as he collapsed on his side.

  “What did you do to them?” I asked, goosebumps tickling my skin. I still gripped my sword in its sheath.

  “I made them see something they did not wish to see,” Jax replied. “Destroyers torturing them.”

  I looked at them, lying in the sand in a fetal position, moaning and weeping. It gave us the window we needed to spur our horses onward and reach the settlement, where hundreds of incubi were waiting with their weapons drawn.

  Sverik raised his arms in the air, in a defensive gesture.

  The rogues pointed their swords and arrows at us. Campfires blazed behind them.

  “We come in peace!” Sverik said.

  “What do you want?” One of them stepped forward, his knuckles white as he held a long spear in his hands. The metal tip glistened purple, reminding me of the poisons the succubi laced their arrows with.

  I heard them all grumbling as their feet shuffled through the sand. There was fear in their eyes but also determination. They were on the defensive, and they would not go down easy if we were to attack. Our mission was to establish an alliance. We just had to get past the poisoned spears and swords.

  “It’s me, Sverik! Kristos’s brother!”

  A moment of tense silence flickered by, before another incubus spoke from the crowd.

  “And?”

  “What do you mean ‘And’?” Sverik was irritated, hands still up. “Come on, Grezzi! I’m here to help! We’re here to help!”

  “Why should I trust the son of Arid after he sided with Azazel?” The incubus identified as Grezzi stepped in front of the group, two large swords poised to strike us down in a heartbeat.

  “Because I’m not involved with Azazel anymore. I had no choice but to follow my father after Kristos died,” Sverik shot back. “Then I was thrown in a cage. These people saved me!”

  Grezzi’s crystal blue eyes darted from Sverik to Draven and me, then to Jax and Hansa. He processed the information for a minute or so, with a permanent frown on his face. He measured us carefully.

  “Who are these people?” he eventually asked.

  “I’m Draven, a Dru—”

  “A Druid. Yeah, I can tell. I’m not blind. Just like I can tell he’s a Mara and she’s a succubus. How are you not slithering around yet? You’ve not met Azazel?” Grezzi didn’t seem patient by nature.

  “I have. Just once,” Draven replied. “I’m the son of Almus and Genevieve. And these are my allies.”

  Grezzi put his swords down, his shoulders dropping with relief. The weapons seemed heavy, judging by the expression on his face. “Allies for what?”

  “We’re going to war. We’re taking Azazel down,” I said, capturing his attention, and, based on the grin slitting his face, his interest.

  Grezzi ordered his incubi to put their weapons away. He learned our names and where we came from. He tried using his natural abilities on me—my head felt light and my skin rippled—but Draven was quick to cut him off.

  “I’d like to kindly ask you to stop what you’re doing to her,” he said, his voice cold and sharp as a blade. “And don’t think of trying it again.”

  “Or else what?” Grezzi shot back with a smirk.

  “Or else she’ll take over your mind and tear you apart from the inside,” was Draven’s blunt reply, making me grin.

  They took us inside the camp, where a large bonfire burned bright and orange. Their tents were small and rectangular with furs and spotted skins hung on the sides. A few animals were being roasted, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten much during the day.

  We followed Grezzi into his tent, while the other incubi returned to their posts. His temporary home was larger than the others, complete with a makeshift bed and a table, where old maps were spread out. Small wooden figurines rested on top in strategic places. Based on how the pieces were arranged across the map, he’d been following Azazel’s expansion from afar.

  “And Bijarki is with you, you say?” Grezzi asked as we gathered around the table.

  Draven nodded. “I’ve been working with him for quite some time now. He brought Kristos into the fold.”

  “You know, I don’t get it. Where have you been all this time? Why hasn’t Azazel killed you?”

  “He didn’t know I existed until a couple of days ago. My father kept me hidden and safe. My home is under the Daughters’ protection.”

  “And your father?”

  A shadow passed over Draven’s face. “Dead,” he replied. “We’d been rescuing Oracles, keeping them out of Azazel’s reach. He died trying to save one.”

  Grezzi nodded, his gaze moving around, measuring each of us from head to toe before settling on the map. “So, tell me, Druid. Why should we side with you, then? We’ve been surviving here quite well on our own.” He poured water into a silver goblet, which he gulped down.

  “Do you want to keep surviving, or do you want to live?”

  Draven’s answer made the incubus smile.

  “Fair enough. What are you bringing into this fight? I’m not getting my incubi killed for a young and inexperienced Druid without a plan and some serious war power.”

  “I have three Oracles and the support of the Daughters.”

  “The Daughters,” Grezzi scoffed. “Like they even care anymore.”

  “It turns out they do, just a little. Otherwise I wouldn’t have survived until now. It’s better than nothing,” Draven replied. “The Dearghs, the Lamias, the Maras, and the Tritones have joined as well, along with the Red Tribe and a few other essential players.”

  He gave me a sideways glance as he said that, and I tried hard not to smile. My heart filled with pride. It felt good to be acknowledged in front of such war-seasoned creatures as an important element in this fight against Azazel. It was one thing to hear Draven tell me such things in the privacy of our conversations, but it was something else entirely when I was described as essential to what seemed like an efficient army of incubi.

  “Do you have a plan?” Grezzi asked.

  “We need more bodies first. I need to make sure we can count on you. I’ve arranged for us to meet in seven moons at the northern waterfall of Mount Agrith. If you agree, I can let the others know, and we can form an alliance against Azazel. The Tritones and the Dearghs are already out rallying more creatures.
We have enough power and strength between us to leave Azazel without his armies. And, with the Oracles’ help, we can bring him to his knees, once and for all.”

  “He has Oracles too, doesn’t he?”

  “He does. But they never told him about me. I don’t think they’re quite as helpful to him as he thinks. There’s a window of opportunity there, and we want to use it, before he catches on.”

  Grezzi nodded slowly, his finger moving along the map. I glanced at it and noticed he was following a trail from his camp to Mount Agrith. Judging by the distance between the two points and the memory I had of the map in Draven’s study, I realized that we’d made it very far northeast of the mansion. This planet was huge, and I’d barely seen a fraction of it. There must be plenty of rogues out there hiding in the thousands of square miles of thick jungles.

  “Azazel has tens of thousands of incubi in his army, and at least five hundred Destroyers at the last count,” Grezzi said, his eyes on the obsidian figurine of Azazel on the map, resting on the location of his castle. Someone had made the effort to carve a realistic figure of him, with a swirling snake lower body and an insidious grin. “How many do you think you have in your alliance so far?”

  “Numbers are not what will help us win this war,” Draven replied. “We have massive tactical advantages and the swamp witches’ books. There’s a great amount of magic in them that Azazel has yet to discover. Our Oracles have been uncovering secrets from Azazel’s past, weaknesses among his Destroyers, and, most importantly, we know what the future holds and have been able to change it with our actions. Granted, the changes haven’t been very encouraging, but an alliance with the rogue nations will get us the scale-tipping result we need. We can corner this bastard if we play our cards right.”

  “Then why do you need us if you don’t need numbers?” the incubus asked.

  “Are you fine with just sitting here until it’s all over, or would you like to pitch in?” Sverik interjected. “Your scouts are known for their ability to cover large territories in short periods of time. We need them to spread the word, find more rogues, and bring them into the alliance. Then you can join the fight as well. Your troops are impressive.”

  Grezzi straightened his back, overflowing with pride. Sverik had managed to hit a soft spot.

  “I must say, I agree,” Jax noticed his play and went along. “Neither of us saw your scouts coming earlier. They are exceptionally well-trained. I must apologize for their agony, though. They should recover soon. Just give them a lot of water.”

  The incubus sucked his teeth, then slapped both hands on the table.

  “They’ll be fine,” he replied. “They should’ve spotted the Mara in the group, anyway. Whatever happened, it’s on them.”

  He then looked at us once more, squinting his eyes when his gaze reached me.

  “I’ll send my boys out to get you more soldiers,” he said. “And I will meet you in seven moons at Mount Agrith, as per your request.”

  A wave of relief washed over me.

  Draven nodded respectfully. “Thank you, Grezzi. We need as many of them as you can rally by the seventh moon. And bring their leaders to the northern waterfall. We’ll sign a pact there,” he replied.

  “Make it a blood pact,” the incubus shot back. “And if I get the faintest whiff of foul play, I will make sure nobody gets on your boat. I may be reduced to a small garrison here in the middle of nowhere, but I still have a reputation to uphold.”

  “That’s perfectly understandable,” Sverik replied. “Thank you nonetheless. Your support is essential.”

  Grezzi nodded, then let out a sharp whistle. A couple of seconds later, ten young incubi came into the tent wearing dark green military uniforms. They stood straight, waiting for his order.

  “Get ready, boys. We’re going to war. Rally the rogues all over the continent, spread out far and wide, and leave no stone unturned. There are plenty of tribes and deserter camps out there. Send them a message from me, and, if they agree, bring their leaders to me by the sixth moon,” he said.

  The incubi nodded firmly.

  Grezzi pulled a piece of parchment, a small ink bottle, and a quill from a side table behind him. He wrote something down and handed the parchment to one of the scouts.

  “Have copies of this ready. At least twenty. I want you to come back with none,” he added.

  The young scout nodded again, then swiftly left the tent, followed by the other nine.

  I was impressed by how responsive and disciplined his soldiers were. We could certainly use them in an assault if we gave them the right weapons and spells against Destroyers. They were well-organized and swift on their feet, both key qualities in a war with Azazel’s monsters.

  Grezzi raised his hands and smiled.

  “We’re just about to sit down and eat. Would you like to join us?” he asked. “I can have a couple of tents ready for you by the time dinner is done. It’s best for you to travel back in the morning. Plenty of evil things in the woods at night.”

  My stomach’s muffled growls caught his attention, as well as Draven’s.

  “That sounds good, thank you,” the Druid replied for me.

  After we ate, we were escorted to two tents. Draven stepped forward, taking my hand as he went inside one of them.

  “Hansa, you can share the other with Jax and Sverik, can’t you?” he asked over his shoulder, without waiting for a reply.

  I heard her mutter something unsavory, but we were already inside, where a thick layer of furs and blankets awaited and a small oil lamp burned in a corner.

  “Are you sure she’ll be okay there?” I asked.

  Draven looked at me, his expression firm and difficult to read, and started taking off his boots. “She’ll be fine. I’d be more worried about Jax and Sverik. They’re the ones stuck in there with her,” he quipped, giving me his nonchalant smirk.

  I laughed lightly and slipped out of my boots, suddenly aware that I was in there alone with Draven. My self-consciousness crashed into me. My nerves began to tingle at the thought of being so close to him in a tent that we had all to ourselves.

  A dozen thoughts started buzzing through my head, raising my temperature as I set the boots aside and stood in front of him not sure of what to do next. He looked up at me, a familiar warmth in his gray eyes. His fingers grasped the belt I’d used to fasten my borrowed trousers and pulled me closer.

  He sat in front of me on a mound of soft furs, his head at the same level as my abdomen and his gaze fixed on mine.

  My breath hitched as he put on a mischievous smile, gripped my hips, and jerked me toward him. I squealed as I fell on top of him on the makeshift bed and giggled as his arms circled my waist and kept me tight against his hard body.

  His scent invaded my nostrils, the same whiff of musk and sunshine I’d grown happily accustomed to. We looked at each other for a minute, as our emotions flared. I felt his intense heat and golden energy pouring through me, and I opened my soul for him in return.

  I kissed him, softly at first, enough to get a taste of him.

  “I wasn’t kidding earlier,” he whispered. “You were unbelievable today. You’re unbelievable every day, and yet you still manage to surprise me.”

  I gave him another kiss, as sweet and delicate as the first one. Heat coursed through my veins. His mouth opened, demanding every ounce of passion that flooded my mind and soul.

  I abandoned my senses and deepened the kiss, giving him more. His hands moved up my back, fingers pressing against my muscles. A sigh ripped from my chest. He groaned and paused for a second, his eyes hooded and breath ragged.

  “I’m still trying to figure out how you snuck into my soul the way you did, Serena,” he said. “At first I tried to think of ways to get you out.”

  “And now?” I asked, cupping his face with my hands.

  “And now all I think of are ways of spending a moment alone with you. It becomes challenging at times.”

  I giggled. “Well then, consider thi
s a raging success,” I replied, kissing the tip of his nose.

  He put on his most seductive smile, rolled us over, and brought his weight down on me. His leg made its way between my thighs, and his hands took mine. Our fingers intertwined. He raised our hands above my head. He kissed me, deeply and emotionally as ribbons of gold seeped into me from his very soul.

  My heart thudded as he held me on the very edge of rapture. My chest was soft against his toned torso, a perfect fit. My curves matched his sharp edges with wonderful precision. He left my hands above my head and used his palms and fingers to draw delicate lines down my arms and sides, until he reached my hips and pulled them up, pressing his forward at the same time.

  I exhaled hard as Draven’s touch brought me closer to something I wasn’t sure how to handle. Tension gathered in my lower body, and something intense fluttered in my chest, as I once more confirmed the only fact I knew for sure in this entire Eritopian affair—there was no place I’d rather be than here, with him.

  Hansa’s irritated voice shattered our moment from beyond the tent.

  “No, no, you two can sleep there together. I can’t put up with your childish bickering anymore!” she snapped.

  Draven cursed under his breath and pushed himself off, rolling to the side with an irritated sigh.

  “We have company,” he muttered before Hansa walked in.

  I was lying on my back, looking at Draven, my breath still shaky and my muscles liquid. Disappointment crushed me as I realized Draven and I were not going to spend the night alone in that tent.

  “I am sorry, but Jax and Sverik are like two little children who don’t like each other for no particular reason. I can’t. I just can’t. I have no patience for male egos,” Hansa grumbled and threw herself on the bed next to me.

  Draven smiled at me gently, making me feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. Nothing mattered in that moment, not even Hansa claiming one third of the only bed in that tent. My attention belonged to the Druid, who channeled a great deal of affection toward me. I felt the arousal, the sheer desire, and the frustration, but, at the same time, I felt something I’d only vaguely sensed before—something far more intense and colorful, akin to a four-letter word I was still wary of saying out loud.