A Demon's Wrath (21 page)

Help me!
she wanted to scream out,
but her body was stone stiff, as if she’d been encased within her
own dead being. Her physical form was unable to move with her
command.
God, help me. Get me out of this,
she prayed, tears
in her eyes.

It was then she saw a fluttering of
pale-blond hair in midair above her. Pearlescent skin and
emerald-green eyes with the most beautiful face Cecelia had ever
seen stared down on her, a leering smile greeting her.

“
I want you,”
the woman sang
seductively.
“I want your body. You’re perfect.”

Something in the woman’s frosty eyes
frightened Cecelia, and the child within her wanted to scream in
fear. Instead, she shut her eyes to block away the bloodcurdling
image.
I am dreaming
, she told herself.
Just a dream
.
When she opened her eyes again, however, the woman was still there,
looming ever closer to her.

Terror penetrated deep within Cecelia’s
heart as the ghostly female and the black, shadowy energy around
her hugged tight around Cecelia, suffocating her within its cold,
empty embrace.

Cecelia whimpered, losing herself as it
further claimed her mind and soul. She was going to die. She knew
it was inevitable as she watched the apparition opening her mouth
wide, intending to swallow her whole.

It was then a glow emitted from within
Cecelia, originating from within her womb, and shone bright,
bursting with a golden halo. The blast of light frightened the pale
apparition of the woman as the ray blinded her. She screamed in
anger and frustration as her image shook and then shattered and
disappeared from sight.

Overwhelmed, exhaustion overtook her, and
Cecelia fell unconscious.

When she opened her eyes again, it was to
the sight of fire burning, devouring everything that surrounded
her. Heat blistered at her skin as she sat up. Panic seized her the
moment she realized her bedchamber was on fire and she was being
roasted alive. She rushed off the bed, her bare feet hot against
the cold stone floor. As she ran out into the corridor, searching
and screaming for help, it was then she realized the sight she
beheld was familiar to her.

She was back at Rosevalley Castle. She was
back to three years ago, during the night of the raid.

Her legs weakened and she fell to the floor.
It was then she glanced to her right and saw herself in the mirror.
Looking back at herself was a younger girl in a nightgown with long
black hair in wild disarray, face as pale as a ghost, and large
eyes reflecting with fear.

Her mother’s ear-splitting scream caught
Cecelia’s attention. In response, she rushed up from her spot and
raced toward the noise a couple doors down. Within seconds, she
came into the main foyer of the castle, and as she came through the
door, she saw them.

Demons stood amongst the gusting blaze. Skin
of dull gray, eyes of blood red, twisted horns, and faces and
bodies resembling beasts. Cecelia felt her breath caught at the
back of her throat as she stared wide-eyed at these monsters. It
was then, through the haze of the smoke and flames, she saw a man
standing in the center of the chaos. He was tall and big with
pale-blond hair and burning blue eyes. He was handsome, yet she
felt only darkness radiating from within him. Beside him stood the
most beautiful female she’d ever seen. Long, pale-blond hair and
eyes of emerald green, she was the woman Cecelia had seen trying to
possess her.

It was then Cecelia saw her father, his
lifeless form amongst the tangle of dead bodies by the man’s feet.
Shock and fear consumed her, and Cecelia shut her eyes and screamed
until she woke up.

Her heart pumped loud and fast within her
chest as she lay there staring up at the ceiling of a moving
carriage. She blinked and turned her head, her mind dull and
confused. The moment she saw the demon sitting opposite her, she
bolted up and hastily searched for her dagger about her body.

Marcus Arthur gave her a handsome greeting,
a bright glint within his blue eyes.

“Lady Cecelia Van Zandt,” he said smoothly.
“I’m glad Queen Josephine hasn’t yet taken over you.”

Cecelia stared at him long and hard,
analyzing the meaning of his words. Then she realized what he
meant. The dark orb. The beautiful woman with long blond hair and
emerald-green eyes. The woman called Queen Josephine. Was she the
same Queen Josephine Julius had told her about? The one who had
stolen the king’s pearl and used its power for beauty and black
magic? But she was dead over three hundred years ago.

She flicked her eyes to him again,
questioning who he was. The longer she stared at him, the more
certain she was sure she’d seen him somewhere before.

Marcus cocked his head to one side as he
watched her, waiting for her to pounce on him.

Cecelia said through gritted teeth, “You
killed my father!”

Marcus didn’t deny this. He simply nodded.
“Aye, and many thousand others.”

Anger engulfed her, and Cecelia leaped
forward, her hands outstretched. Within a split second, she had her
fingers around Marcus’s throat, tightening around his flesh, ready
to kill him.

Marcus didn’t budge from his position as
Cecelia tried to murder him. He closed his eyes, a sad smile about
his face.

Tears flooded Cecelia’s eyes, as her inner
self was conflicted between killing her father’s murderer and
pitying the man who looked as though he’d welcome death. Suddenly,
a force blasted against her, throwing her back against the seat,
knocking her unconscious.

Marcus closed his eyes as though he were
really upset she’d managed to hurt herself. He moved forward and
whispered into Cecelia’s ear, “You can’t kill me, my dear, for I am
cursed.” He smiled a dark, sad smile and gently kissed her on her
soft lips. “But thank you for trying.” He murmured darkly, “Only
one can kill me.” He glanced up as the noise of a demonic steed
fluttering through the woods reached his ears. “And he’s here.”

The carriage came to a sudden halt, which
was followed by the sound of men shouting as in battle and metal
clashing against metal. Marcus knew the Dardanian soldiers would
put up a fight against this one demon. Marcus also knew, however,
that it wouldn’t last. They’d all die in vain in a split second. Of
course, Marcus decided he’d leave them to fight for three minutes
before presenting himself to his ex-friend. After all, there were
at least fifty human warriors against one demon. Well, not just any
demon, but a demon king with great demonic power at that.

Marcus listened to men crying out in agony
in quick succession and then dead silence. It was two minutes.
Marcus had underestimated Drake’s growing power.
Good,
he
thought, a smile creeping upon his lips. That way Marcus himself
could die a quicker death.

“Marcus!” came the cold, hard voice that
belonged to Drake McNamara.

Marcus scooped Cecelia up in his arms and
carried her out of the carriage. As he came to face his opponent,
he presented his nemesis the beautiful prized prisoner.

Drake was seething with wrath the moment
he’d seen his ex-comrade carrying Cecelia. He jumped down from
Wildfire, his sword drawn, ready for battle. Marcus wasn’t
surprised to know Drake didn’t even need to leave his steed to kill
fifty strong soldiers.

“Release her!” he demanded.

Marcus said coldly, “Kill me first.”

Drake cocked his head to one side and
sneered, “That can be arranged.”

Marcus laid Cecelia back down in the
carriage. He slammed the door shut and turned to the driver and a
soldier who miraculously survived the carnage.

“Leave now!” he bellowed. The two men
nodded, and within a second, they were out of sight.

Drake, eager to be done with the fight so he
could retrieve Cecelia, growled and lunged forward. He slammed his
mighty weapon onto Marcus.

Marcus took a step to the side and quickly
released his own weapon, raising it up high in midair to counter
attack Drake’s mighty sword. Drake slammed another hit on him,
which Marcus protected himself with his blade again. The force,
however, was harder this time, and it threw Marcus back.

Drake leapt forward, bashing his strong fist
onto Marcus’s side, sending Marcus sprawling against the tree.
Marcus sprang up and sent Drake a dark orb of attack as he chanted
a black spell. The enchanted power hit Drake on the chest, hurling
him across the distance, and smashed his body against a thick pine
tree. The tree split and broke, falling to the ground, Drake along
with it.

Drake growled as he flipped himself up. He
gathered his inner energy; his body began to glow as his demonic
power rose, a force field expanding around his form. Marcus
summoned his demonic power as well, a halo of blue around him. The
demons charged toward each other, each growling, shouting battle
cries that echoed within the hushed woods.

They fought each other, giving each other
blow after blow, the force of power emitting from within their
bodies blasting everything that surrounded them. A golden halo
against a blue one, glowing strong and flickering within the
darkness of the woods, detonating trees and everything that stood
in their way.

Drake wielded his weapon higher and forced a
blast of demonic power into his words. Then he forced the energy
and targeted it at Marcus, who was now exhausted from the
combat.

Marcus emitted his own demonic power, but he
was no match for the demon king and found himself at the receiving
end of the explosion. A flare engulfed him, throwing him across the
distance and smacking his body against a tree. He fell to the
ground with a thud, unconscious. Drake headed toward the half-dead
Marcus, his sword ready for the kill.

Feet braced apart and his face contorted
with rage, Drake raised his sword high. He stood there, staring
down at Marcus Arthur, his childhood friend. Memories flooded his
mind, memories of them spending time together: Drake himself, Adam,
Marcus, Julius, Gerick, and Leon. Learning how to use the sword for
the first time. Learning history, geography, mathematics, science,
astrology, and magic. Going out exploring the realm of the nine
kingdoms, getting into all sorts of trouble and having all sorts of
fun.

His heart constricted as his hands tightened
on the sword above him. His friend. He was about to kill his
friend, and Drake felt a sickening bile rise up within his throat.
Why did Marcus have to betray them? Why did he want to claim the
throne? Why did he want to return the kingdom back to the Dark Age
where fear and terror ruled?

Drake hesitated too long. A blast of
darkness materialized out of the blue, surrounding and protecting
Marcus. A female figure in a dark robe appeared. Long blond hair
fluttering in the wind, emerald-green eyes glaring at Drake with a
promise of death.

Drake felt his whole being stiffen as he
eyed the woman. “Queen Josephine,” he said darkly.

The woman gave him a sneering smile as she
raised her hands, emitting a black, angry energy at him.

“I will kill you, Drake McNamara, Demon
King.” Her voice echoed within his consciousness. Then she covered
herself over Marcus, and in seconds, they both were gone.

WHEN CECELIA FLUTTERED HER EYES open once
again, she saw only darkness. Though this time it wasn’t the
darkness that engulfed and suffocated her, threatening to overtake
her. She was still in the carriage, she realized, and sat up
abruptly, searching about her surroundings for Marcus Arthur. He,
however, was nowhere in sight.

The rocking motion told her the vehicle was
on the move. She shuffled over to the side and parted the thick
curtains. Outside, she noted they were traveling at a fast pace
along a deserted road in the woods. Suddenly, the vehicle came to a
halt and voices could be heard.

“Who goes there?” someone shouted.

Cecelia waited, the pumping of her heart
loud in her ears.

“Who goes there?” the driver shouted
again.

The carriage rocked violently, which was
followed by men screaming in agony and then dead silence. Cecelia
kicked the door open and rushed out, nearly falling to her knees on
the ground as she did so. She staggered up and paced toward where
the scream had come from. She found two men, dead, on the ground.
In the darkness of the night, she glimpsed a dark shadow watching
her. Her heart skipped a beat. She knew who it was immediately and
swallowed.

“Running away, are we?” Drake said, his deep
timbre voice echoing in the hollow woods.

“I…” Cecelia didn’t know what to tell him,
for she too didn’t know how she came to be here. There had been
Queen Eliza and Rosanna and then Marcus Arthur. Now it was the
demon king himself.

“I…”

In a flash, he was beside her and had her
slender arm within the tightness of his grip.

Cecelia whined at the pain. “Sire, I…”

He moved and had her imprisoned between the
tree and himself, his large body covering hers. Cecelia caught her
breath at the back of her throat as she could feel the whole length
of him against her, the hardness, the strength, and the warmth.

“Nobody steals my precious items and ever
gets away with it, not least you, thief.” He lowered his head to
her so his nose nearly touched hers and their lips were a mere inch
apart as he gazed intensely into her eyes.

Cecelia blinked. What would he do to her
now? Would he kill her here? Odd enough, she wasn’t frightened of
that. She knew he had a right to slay her for stealing his precious
seed.

“Will you kill me now?” she asked, her heart
racing, her body trembling beneath his. “But before you do, I beg
that I see my mother and brother once again to say good-bye.”