The Fire Lord's Lover - 1 (28 page)

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Authors: Kathryne Kennedy

Tags: #Alternative Histories (Fiction), #England, #Fantasy Fiction, #Female Assassins, #Paranormal, #General, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Historical, #Fiction, #Elves

BOOK: The Fire Lord's Lover - 1
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   She quickly tore her gaze away from those glowing runes and clutched Dominic's arm. Did he not understand that Mor'ded threatened him and not her? Or did he not care, seeking only to protect her? She would not allow it. "My husband has done nothing to betray you."

   The Imperial Lord's cold black gaze settled on her, and Cass refused to allow her fear to show. When Dominic saw Mor'ded's attention shift to her he immediately tried to shield her with his body, but Cass stepped lithely around him, the song she'd created for her dance still humming in the back of her mind.

   Mor'ded slowly waved the scepter in front of him with his words, like a black snake waiting to strike, ticking off each of his son's transgressions. "He has proven that he cannot overcome the weakness of his human blood by caring for you. He challenged me in front of my own court, and instead of laughing at his weakness, the fools felt compassion for him. He used his powers to heal the drudges in the city and now they print words of praise about his kind heart. He has turned away from everything I've tried to teach him, all because of you. And as your reward, I've decided that you will watch him die."

   Lady Cassandra dropped her husband's arm, tried to lunge forward, but Dominic proved to be faster than her rage for he reached out and caught her about the waist.

   "You are overreacting, Father."

   His voice sounded so calm that Cass felt like screaming.

   Mor'ded's attention shifted to Dominic. "Perhaps. But your insistence on your wife's condition made me realize that you are now expendable. Soon I will have a new champion and this time I will make no mistakes with him. I will make sure to destroy any part of him that is human."

   Cass grasped at the faint hope that Mor'ded would turn his deathly gaze back to her. She did not want to live in a world without Dominic. "It's a lie. I do not carry—"

   Her husband's strong hand covered her mouth and he whispered in her ear, "Hush, my love. Do not let my death be for naught."

   She wanted to tell him that she refused to live without him, but his hand held steady over her lips, and nothing but muffled cries escaped her mouth.

   Mor'ded laughed, and Cass noticed he'd lowered the scepter to his side. And she remembered what Ador had told her. That the scepter was the key. But the key to what? Cassandra went still and she felt Dominic's muscles relax their hold. The scepter enhanced the elven lord's powers and, by the dragon's admittance, held some sort of awareness. And wanted to return to Elfhame. Could the scepter somehow aid them?

   "You humans are a constant source of entertainment," said Mor'ded with a chuckle, his pleasure a mocking, evil thing. "Always willing to sacrifice each other in the name of love. But remember,
Romeo and Juliet
is a tragedy, my dear Cassandra." And he lifted his scepter, pointed it at Dominic. A black haze formed around the triangular-shaped head, then slowly crept through the air toward Dominic.

   "Leave my wife out of this, Father. She is no threat to you."

   "You are hardly in a position to make demands." Mor'ded heaved an overly dramatic sigh. "But at least you no longer beg and cry for the human pets. I managed to break you of that habit, at least."

   Black sludge reached the toes of Dominic's boots. The song of a death dance still vibrated through Cass's body.

   Mor'ded shifted his weight to one leg, a negligent stance that belied his eagerness to see his son tortured to death. But Cass heard it in his words.

   "We've known this day would come, haven't we, Son? You hold the command of my army, and I was willing to allow that. But even though your magic is still weak, you gained the support of the court and the people of London. The girl was but a catalyst, for I knew you would one day seek more power to try to defeat me. You have enough elven blood to desire the thrill of conquering a more formidable foe. It's been enjoyable to watch you struggle. I will miss the entertainment." His cold black gaze flew to Cass. "But perhaps the girl will make up for the lack. If your child proves not to be a champion, the girl might still breed true once I have a go at her."

   Dominic growled low in his throat. The black sludge sprouted wings of fire, curling around his ankles and up his calves. Cass watched in horror as the dark flames pierced the leather of his boots, seeped into his breeches.

   "It's sad that we true elven breed so rarely," continued Mor'ded, "but it means I will use her well. If she can come to enjoy a bit of torture, she should last several years. Does that comfort you, lad?"

   More thick black fire had slithered up Dominic's legs, wrapping about his waist, threatening to envelop Cassandra as well. Her husband finally released her, trying again to put his body between her and his father, but Cass danced out of his reach. She realized she couldn't save him by revealing the lie of her pregnancy. Mor'ded's words convinced her that nothing would stop him from destroying his son.

   The two men faced each other. Despite the fire encasing his feet, penetrating inside his very body, Dominic managed to take a few steps toward Mor'ded. He raised his arms, red fire blazing from his palms, making Cassandra step even farther back from the blast of heat.

   "You're going to try again," said Mor'ded, shaking his head in mock sadness. But his eyes glittered with paternal pride. "I knew you would."

   Gray fire encased Dominic's red blaze, a swirling battle of heat and nothingness. Mor'ded easily squelched that first attack, but her husband had just begun. He called forth the coldness of white fire, directing it at the black sludge beneath his feet, dampening the wicked heat. A misty vapor curled up from the floor, wrapped about Dominic's pale hair and handsome face. The blackness encasing his waist flickered and died.

   Lady Cassandra's heart soared. Had Dominic found a way to combat the black flame without calling on that same power himself?

   "Ah," sighed Mor'ded. "Clever, Son. You have concentrated your power in the cold flame… Look, you have grown strong enough to challenge the black. Well done! But the white fire cannot follow the black inside of you—it will only hasten your death. And I wish to savor this moment."

   With a flick of the scepter, Mor'ded made the black swallow the white blaze, created a new belt of dark fire about Dominic's waist, and this time it did not play about his body. It bored into her husband's skin, making him gasp and stagger backward. Cass could no longer see the blackness, but she knew that it now ate inside of him, knew Dominic felt the burning of his lungs and very bones.

   She wanted to go to him, curl her body about his for protection, cry and plead for his life. But it would do no good. She must channel her fear into fury, must use the skills the Rebellion had taught her and, at long last, try to accomplish her task. Cass slipped her girdle off her waist, held it in her hands, and strengthened the song that shivered in her head.

   Mor'ded pointed the scepter at her husband and black fire sprouted from its deadly tip yet again. She did not know if the scepter could aid Dominic or not, she knew only that it was being used against him now. And she must stop it.

   Cass took a dancing step toward Mor'ded. Despite Dominic's pain he saw the movement, opened his mouth, but no words came forth. Just an anguished sound of fury.

   The Imperial Lord smiled.

   His son called forth black fire.

   It licked and wove its way to Mor'ded's very feet. Then fluttered and died.

   "So you have a bit of the black after all," said the elven lord. "It's a pity it's not enough to provide me with a satisfying challenge."

   Cass watched his eyes carefully, making sure they stayed focused on his son as she inched her way closer to him, the girdle clutched tightly within her hands. She must get the scepter away from Mor'ded. It would not stop his attack, but perhaps it would lessen it enough to give Dominic a chance.

   Lady Cassandra allowed the song to consume her. Her limbs vibrated with her magic and she danced across the space between her and Mor'ded in a heartbeat, catching the elven lord by surprise. She could not risk touching the scepter, so she snapped her girdle about the rod, the leather belt twining three times around it, and yanked it out of Mor'ded's hold.

   The Imperial Lord turned to her with a look of blank shock, which instantly blossomed into a furious rage. "You dare."

   He held up elegant hands and black fire flew from his palms to her breast. For a moment nothing happened, as if she held a shield around her.

   May's cloak of dreams.

   Again, Mor'ded's eyes flickered with shock, and for a timeless instant neither one of them moved.

   Black fire curled around the Imperial Lord's throat, and they both turned to look at Dominic. Somehow he'd managed to close the distance between them. Sweat rolled down his forehead, the muscles in his neck taut with strain. He held his broad shoulders slightly bent, as if the weight of pain fought to shove him down to his knees. But her husband kept upright, muscled thighs quivering with the effort.

   The black fire that crept around Mor'ded's throat came from Dominic's upheld hands.

   Then Cassandra felt the force of Mor'ded's magic. She staggered backward, clutching the girdle with a death grip. But the scepter spun out as the leather unrolled around it, clattering to the floor with a clear ringing sound. She stared helplessly at the talisman while flame twisted inside her chest, robbing her of breath. And Mor'ded had flung only a small amount of black fire at her. It twisted and roiled in her stomach, ripped at her muscles like knives. It destroyed the song that had given her the magic of the dance, and her muscles shook with weakness. She could barely see for the pain.

   Good Heavenly Father. What had Dominic been forced to endure? What did he withstand at this very moment?

   She focused her cloudy vision on the scepter that had rolled to the edge of her skirts, Ador's words again sounding in her mind.
It is the key.

   The key to power.

   She knew it held power. But only a true elven lord could wield the scepter.

   Yet Dominic had touched it and, by his own admission, somehow forged a connection with the talisman. Could he possibly have enough elven blood to actually wield it?

   "This has been more entertaining than I anticipated," said Mor'ded. Cass looked up at him. With a negligent toss of his pale fingers, the elven lord dispersed the black fire from around his neck. "But I'm getting bored, my dear. And the thought of you in my bed—screaming—suddenly appeals to me."

   Lady Cassandra's shoulders quivered, but not in fear. Indeed, an odd sort of calm descended over her, and a wisp of a dream soothed her mind. A vision of her husband making love to her in a garden of singing flowers. The pain that licked through her chest suddenly eased and she felt a bit of strength flow through her muscles again.

   Mor'ded took a step forward, bent down to retrieve the scepter.

   "No," screamed Cass, slapping her girdle at the rod. It rolled out of the Imperial Lord's reach and thudded up against Dominic's boots.

   "You continue to surprise me, my dear," said the elven lord. "I don't need the scepter to destroy him—or you, for that matter. But I must say you've held up to my power quite well. You shouldn't be able to move. What a treat you will provide me when I bed—"

   Cassandra lunged for the scepter, but Mor'ded had the superior speed and strength of the elvenkind and his body hit hers, slamming both of them to the floor. Cass grunted, but she'd landed half atop him and quickly scrambled forward, fingers reaching out for the rod.

   "Don't touch it," growled Dominic, crumpling over and picking it up, his voice distorted by pain, his movements jerky from the torture of his muscles. "It will destroy anyone who wields it except…"

   He stared at the shiny black talisman, the runes engraved on the surface swirling in a sudden mad dance.

   "Except for your father," finished Cass. "And you."

   Mor'ded barked a mad laugh. "If you try to use it, it will destroy you."

   "Will it?" murmured Dominic. He glanced down at the floor, where his father still crouched a hand's breath from Cass, who knelt in a puddle of skirts. "Does it hum to you, Father? For it's humming to me, feeding me a power beyond anything I've ever known."

   Mor'ded's eyes widened, and for the first time since Cassandra had met him, he looked afraid.

   "Only one of full elven blood can use the power of a scepter," insisted his father.

   "Are you trying to convince me or yourself? Perhaps I have enough of the blood to try."

   "It will kill you."

   "Indeed?" Dominic pointed the tip of the staff at the pink pods of the plant across the room. Black fire burst from the scepter, disappeared inside the leaves, and within a trice they shriveled and drooped upon themselves.

   The elven lord sprang to his feet, fire at his fingertips. He threw it at his son, and Dominic wavered on his feet; but with a curse he slapped the scepter at the black flames, curling them back upon themselves, straight at Mor'ded.

   The Imperial Lord gasped, his body convulsing with sudden agony.

   "Father, don't do this. We don't have to destroy each other—"

   "Damn you! Do you think you can defeat me? A weak half-human bastard?" Cass felt a sudden yank at her hair and suppressed a shriek. Mor'ded lifted her nearly off her feet and shook her by the brown roots, making her eyes water from the sting of it. "
This is why you're weak. Even with the power o
f the scepter, you cannot do it. Your human heart will not allow it."

   Mor'ded had sneered while uttering the last few words. Cass looked at her husband and wondered how the elven lord could be so blind. Dominic looked anything but weak. He grasped the scepter with a firm grip, his body no longer pain-wracked but upright, head thrown slightly back and midnight eyes narrowed grimly at his father. He near glowed with strength, both inner and magical.

   "Let her go," he snarled.

   "They are nothing but animals," Mor'ded responded, shaking Cassandra again.

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