The Cage King
An Entwined Realms Novella
Entwined Realms 1.5
Danielle Monsch
Romantic Geek Publishing
THE CAGE KING (AN ENTWINED REALMS NOVELLA) (ENTWINED REALMS 1.5)
Romantic Geek Publishing
Copyright © 2014 Danielle Monsch
E-book ISBN 978-1-938593-15-4
EPUB Edition
Publication Date: August 2014
Editor: Rhonda Helms
Copy Editor: Eilis Flynn
Cover Design: Kix by Design
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons – living or dead – is purely coincidental.
To John J., for creating an absolutely awesome name and allowing me to use it. I promise I’ll do my best to do right by it.
And, as always, Mr. Jim Garner
Modern-Day Fantasy, where Sword & Sorcery and Romance Meet
There are no Dragons…are there?
Stone Guardian
–
From the Shadows He Watches Over Her
Stone Embrace
–
In the New Realms, Love can be the Most Dangerous Battle of All…
The Cage King –
He Will Claim Victory
Slightly Twisted and Very Sassy takes on Fairy Tales
Loving a Fairy Godmother
–
Don’t Fairy Godmothers deserve a little lovin’ too?
Loving an Ugly Beast
–
Can’t an Ugly Beast get a little lovin’ here?
Loving a Prince Charming
–
When you are Prince Charming, everyone wants a little lovin’ from you.
Sexy Sci-Fi about Warrior Women and the Alpha Males who love them
Pleasure Satellite
–
To the Strongest goes Everything…
And want to know whenever a New Book is Released? Sign-up!
DANIELLE MONSCH ANNOUNCEMENT LIST!
‡
I
t was in
the alleys she had discovered his fear of the dark. As they huddled together, rats unseen but heard scurrying in corners, so dark not even a sliver of moonlight penetrated, he shook. Her big brother shook, tremors he tried to hide by holding her tighter, and all the while he swore,
he swore
, he was going to get them to a place light and open, where you could take a breath without the stench of garbage and shit.
And where had he ended up? A coffin – small, confined, deep in the deepest dark of the earth, crammed in with so many others, the gravestones not a hands width from each other.
The bump of magic across her skin brought Nalah back to the now, where she was not in a graveyard on the day of her brother’s funeral but wandering familiar and loathed streets. This ability to know magic was the one constant in her life, a life that saw her and her brother moving from shelter to shelter. It was a crawl of heated sensation with a dancing, jagged edge – deep warmth with sharp little teeth.
Ahead of her, the pawn shop. A week ago Nalah came here with the only thing of value they owned, the ring her mother could never let go of, had worked three jobs and yet refused to sell. It had been her mother’s mother’s mother’s, and maybe further back than that. Mama had died too young to tell all the stories, but the one she’d never failed to tell – as she’d wrapped her daughter’s and her son’s little hands around the golden band with bright red stones and pressed so hard the ring left an impression on skin – was of how special that ring was, how they must never lose it.
To protect her brother she was going to sell it, went into the shop willing to face her brother’s wrath and her mother’s heartbreak.
The pawnbroker offered fifty dollars. With greed bright in his eyes and drool a speck in the corner of his mouth, the pawnbroker looked at her worn clothes and shaking hands and would not offer a dollar more.
And when she refused…he took it anyway. He took it and threw the fifty at her as she lay dazed on the ground and dared her to reclaim it.
She was going to tell Jac, after. After the fight. After one last time to convince him of something of which he would not be convinced.
But there was no after.
There was only a coffin in the ground.
Her ring was there in the shop. Her mother never told her the ring was magic, but as she grew older, when she realized the strange sensations she always experienced was an ability to sense –
feel
– magic, the knowledge her ring was more than a mere decoration occupied many hours of play, where she imagined all the different possibilities of what her ring could do.
Magic protected this building. Nothing as easy as a rock through the window could help her. Magic separated her from the only item that had any worth to her now. An item that had been stolen, taken from her because she was too weak. She was going to have her brother get it back.
But now her brother was dead.
There was only being alone in the dark.
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as her temperature rose, the tips of her ears starting to burn. Hatred,
pain
, darkness and the grave and all alone in this world, and she fucking
pushed
against the magic, the ugliness inside her free and battering against this
piece of fucking shit spell
.
Crack!
It wasn’t audible, but the break sounded against where she had been pushing…whatever…outside of herself.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
A faint glow surrounded the building, the magic visible, dancing white and airy with cracks throughout. It was unraveling like a thread pulled from a knitted sweater, starting small but soon missing large chunks, until not a hint of magic remained.
“Holy crap, that was
awesome
!”
Nalah spun around before her mind processed the possibility of threat. Short bursts of information. Two women. One tiny, Asian, colorful. The other tall, redhead, all in black.
Then her breath punched out of her, and her body gasped to bring air back into itself.
Dear gods, the
magic
.
It was from the redhead’s sword, of which only the hilt was visible behind her right shoulder. There was nothing soft or tiny about this sensation. It was inferno, clawed death and black wings, oppressive yet…compelling.
Come closer…
“Wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The Asian woman spoke, the same voice as the original statement. She stepped forward, as if to shield the sword behind her, but since she didn’t reach the redhead’s shoulder, it was wasted effort. “Keep your power to yourself. You’re too weak to be messing with Tenro. Then again, I’m pretty sure a huge chunk of the gods are too weak to be messing with Tenro.” The redhead smirked at that, but said nothing.
“Tenro? Power?” Nalah’s voice was strained, broken, to her own ears.
“Tenro’s the sword, and power – you don’t know your powers, do you?” The Asian woman’s eyes brightened and she turned to the redhead. “I got a great professorial outfit I could change into – or, wait, maybe I just have the schoolgirl outfit, but I know I have glasses-”
“Laire, focus.” The redhead’s manner was resigned, as if this type of conversation was normal. “Please explain before she rightly assumes your crazy level. What’s your name?”
That last question was directed at Nalah, and even as emotional exhaustion threatened to topple her, instinct and long habit made sure her mouth remained closed.
Laire waited a beat before she went on. “Okay nameless girl, you are a Magic Breaker.”
“
Magic Breaker?
” Nalah never heard of such a thing, though around here magic was of the low-level, thug life variety. Anyone powerful moved up and out in quick time. “I can’t cast any spells.”
“I didn’t say you were a caster, I said you were a breaker. Much rarer and a whole separate classification. That little demonstration?” Laire twirled her forefinger as she pointed at the building. “Tells me you are untrained but have a hell of a gift.”
Gift? Being a wizard was a gift. If she could cast spells, she could’ve saved her brother. This was useless, even if it did have a name. “I thought only wizards and mages could undo magic.”
“That’s usually the case, which makes finding someone like you all the more fantastic.”
The redhead spoke for the first time. “Why did you break that barrier?” she asked, lifting her chin to indicate the pawn shop, and the question of why these women were here – two women who belonged far, far away from this cesspool – formed deep in a sorrow-fogged brain.
Nalah could run, but what would be the point? The Asian woman’s magic was subtler than the blast that emanated from the sword, but the more she remained in the woman’s presence, the more the woman’s pure power became clear. Both of them were strong, and she…she was tired. And if this conversation ended badly, well, that could be okay too. “He stole my ring, and I wanted it back. I didn’t know I could do that. I got angry and it happened.”
“Oh, okay.” The redhead began to walk towards her…and then past her, to the front door of the building. Muscles relaxed that she had no clue were tensed as the redhead passed by her. Pulling on the door handle, the redhead called over her shoulder. “Relied on magical reinforcements. If I knock too hard it’ll fall in.”
Laire pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. “Swing the damned sword, Fallon. We both know you’ve been wanting to all day, and he’s a creep who deserves to lose everything.”
“True,” returned Fallon, pulling the sword free before Laire had finished talking, and with the sword unsheathed the magic was clearer, barreling straight for her…
Smell of War, acrid and disgusting sweetness
Screams of the Fallen
Blood, Red, Permeating Everything
Pain, pain, so much pain, ache to the bones never to depart