The Phantom King (The Kings) (17 page)

Because of him, she was going to use magic against a person. It tore at him, that knowledge
, and
he hated himself for what he was forcing her to do.

Even so, he
remained resolute and
moved forward, entering her house uninvited
to shut the door firmly behind
him.

Of course, the bolt of power that shot from her hand had no effect on him. He was th
e
Phantom King, and as such, magic on this material plane had as much of an impact on him as it would upon a
literal
phantom – a ghost. That is to say,
none
.

The energy bolt wrapped around him, diverted as if by a shield until it fizzled out of existence entirely.

“How….”

“Your magic won’t hurt me, warlock,” he told her, taking a step forward and shaking his head in reprimand. It was best to look as threatening as possible, though the very thought of it was pulling at something in his guts and making him slightly sick. “And I have to say,” he added, as if in defiance of his own hesitation. “That wasn’t very nice.” He allowed his expression to darken and smiled a cruel, closed-lipped smile.

He
also moved forward again, making
his way
further
into the house, feeling the weight and pressure of time as he sent out his mental feelers in search of the Anime.
He still came up emp
ty. Steven Lazarus must have known
who he was,
what
he was, and what would happen if he appeared. Clearly, he’d been a detective in life for a reason.

But Thane was only partly upset by Steven’s refusal to show. The waiting dead were piling up and time was not his friend, and yet a very large part of him wanted this to go on forever. As long as Lazarus resisted… Thane would be here, in this house, backing the little warlock into a corner.

Was it wrong of him?

Who the fuck cares.

Siobhan
’s second attack was stronger
. She raised both of her arms this time, and the power that gathered in
her hands was ten times greater
than the blast she’d initially released. It was her fear reacting now, charging her up like an electrical outlet and setting her off like lightning.

If he allowed her power to simply bounce off of him this time, there was a chance it would damage things around him – the door, the walls, the floor. And there was
also
a chance that some of it would escape, possibly through the windows or even straight through the structure of the house. A bystander might see
or even be harmed
, and Siobhan’s secret would be out.

So Thane
raised his right hand this time
and waited for the blast to come his way. When it did, he concentrated, absorbing it into a single pin point of ever-densening magic before crushing it in his palm with a tightening of his fist.

T
hat did it. The te
rror was plainly visible in the warlock’s
eyes, an echo of
her
desperation that set the sparks of gold blazing. “Who the hell are you?” she
demanded. “Oh my God,” she said before he could reply, “y
ou’re the demon. You killed Steven.” There was a tremor to her voice, an unsettled wavering to her tone that hinted of hysterics.

You’re a bastard
, Thane
, his inner voice accused.

But he frowned at the mention of a demon.
Demon
?
And then he remembered.
Steven Lazarus was killed by a demon
. The detective had been murdered by a monster who’d literally s
et
him
on fire.

He realized that Siobhan thought
he
was
that
demon
, and that he’d returned in order to finish the job.

“No,” he said
right away
. “I absolutely did not kill Steven Lazarus.” He wanted that to be very, very clear. “But he is the reason I am here,” he added. He stepped forward again, and Siobhan stepped back. The tiny movement brought out the predator in him, cueing up the thrill of the chase.

“I know he’s here somewhere,” he continued. He pulled his gaze from hers and glanced around the old house.
Show yourself Lazarus
, he thought. The house was quiet around them, no hint of Steven’s ghost making itself known.

Thane took a chance and turned his back on the warlock as he continued to search the mansion’s corners for any sign of the Anime.
“I can feel him.”

“Who are you?” Siobhan repeated herself. Thane turned back around to face her, and as he did the beauty of her visage once more entranced him. He was losing himself to her.

“My name is Thane,” he told her. His tone had gone considerably softer since the last time he’d spoken. He couldn’t help it when faced with her. “I’m….” He held off. He’d been about to tell her he was the Phantom King. But that innocence th
at he saw in her eyes spoke of
more than an
absence
of knowledge about killing. It reflected an
absence
of knowledge about the supernatural world in general.

She doesn’t know
, he realized.

She didn’
t know who the Phantom King was
or probably who
any
of the 13
Kings were. She
most likely barely realized who and what
she
was. Which might be part of the reason she had yet to do anyone any real harm. It was easier to give in to black magic when you had a support group for doing so.
It was gang mentality. Another opiate of the masses.
If she’d thought she was alone, she would have
been forced to make her own decisions, to consider the right and wrong of her actions on their own merit
.

He considered his options.
“How much do you know, warlock?”

“About what?” she asked.
The tremor was still there in the lovely huskiness of her voice. She was scared, but hopefully she was realizing by now that he meant her no harm.

“About what you are
,
”
he told her. Her gaze flicked
to the side, and his own gaze narrowed. He eyed her warily, noticing that she inched ever so slowly to her right.

Maybe not
, he thought with a mental sigh. She was thinking escape thoughts.
Probably planning to run up the stairs
, he told himself. There might have been a weapon of some kind on the second floor.

Keep calm
,
Thane
.
“A
bout what Steven Lazarus now is,” he added, choosing to ignore the fact that she took another tiny step to the right.

“Thane,” she repeated,
blatantly
ignoring his question
. “Is that it
?”
she asked incredulously.
She hedged a little closer to the edge of the wall,
clearly
preparing to break into a run. “No last name?”

“It’s short for Thanatos,” he told her
as his jaw clenched and his hands curled into fists at his sides
.
He was not of this world, not merely man, not
nearly
mortal, and the canines that were always slightly longer than the norm for a human now lengthened in his mouth, becoming full-fledged fangs.
“No last name, and believe me
,
you won’t get two steps in before I catch you.”

Siobhan froze,
her eyes moving to his mouth, where his fangs were no doubt clearly showing.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she
so horribly
lied.

He knew that s
he knew
damn well
what he was talking about.
But she was protective of Lazarus
.
Which did not help Thane’s mood.
“And I
didn’t invite you into my home,” she continued. “
You’re trespassing. Leave or
I swear
I’ll call the cops.”

She pulled a small cell from her back pocket and hastily dialed two of the three numbers it would take to connect her.

Thane couldn’t help it
.
He laughed. It was a real laugh, pulled from the depths of his belly. He was just under too much fucking stress for this.

“Okay,” he said, “
you
go ahead and do that. Call the cops. Tell them that a stranger who is immune to warlock magic just broke into your house because he’s looking for the ghost of your dead boyfriend.” He took another step.

Siobhan bumped into the wall behind her.

“In fact,” he added
,
knowing that this was it. Either Steven showed himself now or Thane could not be held responsible for what he resorted to. His teeth were out, his ire was up, and Siobhan’s full, alluring mouth was driving him just a little bit bonkers.
If the bastard rogue Anime didn’t
materialize
in time to stop him, he was going to slam the sexy little warlock up against the wall, trap her there with a firm grip, and kiss the living hell out of her.

“W
hy don’t you save us both a lot of time and trouble and just call t
he good detective
himself?”

“She doesn’t need to,” came a voice from behind him. Siobhan tore her eyes from his to crane her neck and peek around him.
As she did, she exposed her throat to him, and his fangs throbbed in his mouth.

It was something he had
in common with
the Vampire King. Roman D’Angelo imbibed in blood because he had to; it was the liquid of life.

Thanatos enjoyed the occasional taste
not because it sustained him, but because it gave him a high. It really
was
the liquid of life. And the Phantom King never felt more alive than when he infused his own phantomesque, barely-there veins with the very essence of human existence.