Conquest Read online

  Quinn drew a breath. “It was a prophetic dream.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that it will come to pass.”

  “But how can that be? Do you think I’m…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. The words fell away before they could enter her mouth.

  “We know that Reginald Redclaw wasn’t your father.”

  “But angels don’t exist.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Riddick threw another log onto the fire in the hearth. It was growing colder, and soon winter would set in. He worried for his mate, missing her more with each passing day.

  He’d been up all night with the baby and had consumed so much tea that he was too wired to sleep. The disappearance of the shields and the strange black ooze had become a major concern to him and the pack, but with the witches gone, there was no way to know what to do. The strongest warriors and both their alphas had gone, leaving him to defend the village and their territory.

  The nights had grown long and dark, and the wind whipped outside the windows, blowing freezing rain against the thin panes. Riddick shivered under his woolen sweater and took another sip of tea. Oksana had finally fallen asleep, and the house was quiet and still. With the usual chaos of a newborn in the house, the silence was almost eerie.

  He tried to remain positive about his life. It had grown ever more difficult. He did not want to believe that there was anything wrong with his daughter, but sometimes when he looked at her, he felt a flash of something dark in her eyes. At first, he told himself he was seeing things. But it had grown impossible to ignore—underneath that dark layer, he sensed something deeper and lighter that made up who and what she really was.

  Kayla and his brothers had gone to defend that goodness. Riddick hoped that staying behind would in some way contribute to bringing her back from whatever dark possession had taken over her tiny body. She needed her mother. But at least one of them was there to be with her. Babies needed to be loved. He knew they could sense their caregivers. Without that care, they were emotionally stunted, and darkness would overtake them anyway.

  He let out a long sigh. His tea had gone cold. He stood and went to the kitchen to put the kettle back on the stove. He found the kettle empty and put it under the standpipe. Water spurted into the kettle. He stoked the flames in the stove and returned to the living room to sit by the hearth.

  He had been reading one of the books Felix had retrieved from the library in the City of Ghosts. It was boring, but it was better than sitting alone in silence with his chaotic thoughts. As he opened the book, he heard a crash upstairs followed by the high-pitched howl of his daughter. He set the book down, thinking that the winds must have blown open a window and knocked something over, startling the child awake.

  They had just managed to get her down, so hearing her wake back up was irritating. He started up the stairs, his steps heavy. As he reached the landing, he heard Melody scream. He sprinted up the stairs the rest of the way and bounded down the hall to Oksana’s room.

  He pushed open the door, drawing his daggers from his belt. Beyond the wooden door, he found Melody on the ground, her eyes open and vacant, blood seeping from a deep wound in her neck. Oksana screamed in her crib, wailing and flailing. She kicked her tiny legs and wheeled her fists. Riddick knelt down to feel Melody’s pulse, but there was nothing there.

  A moment later, Tom burst into the room. “What’s going on?” he murmured. He saw his wife’s body prone on the ground and gasped.

  “Tend to her,” Riddick said. But he knew it was already too late. He held his daggers in his hands, ready to strike. He approached the crib and glanced down at the baby. The window was open, and freezing wind and rain blew into the room. He approached the window and began to push it closed. He saw movement in the shadows from the corner of his vision. He spun to face it, finding nothing there.

  “Who did this?” Tom demanded. “She’s dead.”

  “Go get a weapon,” Riddick hissed.

  “A weapon against what?” the man asked.

  Riddick had no idea what they were facing. There was no indication of what had attacked her. The wound in her neck was a clean slice, as if from a razor-sharp blade. It had cut expertly, opening an artery and draining her life blood almost instantly.

  “Go get a weapon,” Riddick repeated.

  The man stumbled to his feet and out of the room, cursing as he went. He was not much of a warrior and would be very little use. Riddick was more concerned about getting him out of the room and to safety than helping to band against whatever monstrosity had killed Melody Roan. Riddick turned in a slow circle, examining the room. He thrust one of his daggers into its holster and moved toward the crib. He glanced down at his screaming daughter and thrust his other dagger into the holster, freeing his hands to pick her up. He reached for her, but before his fingers could close around her tiny form, a being materialized out of thin air and grabbed her out of his hands.

  Riddick drew his weapons, ready to strike the beast before him. It was transparent in its form, its mouth a mass of sharp teeth. Its cloak was black as the void, whirling around its wraithlike form as its long-clawed fingers clutched his child.

  “Put her down,” Riddick barked. The creature gave no impression of having heard him or of being at all concerned with his presence. It turned and started toward the window, seeming to float on air. Riddick sheathed his daggers and dropped into wolf form, lunging at the creature and biting at its leg, but his teeth came up empty, hitting only air. He lunged at the creature again, trying to gain purchase, but there was nothing there.

  It lifted its finger under the window and opened it, allowing the driving rain in once again. It floated out and disappeared into the darkness. Riddick jumped out the window, crashing down on his paws. The two-story drop stunned him momentarily, but he scrambled to his feet and followed the creature into the forest. The lights from the village barely penetrated the consuming darkness beyond the tree line, and Riddick lost sight of the wraith immediately. His legs throbbed from the fall, and his ankle felt sprained, but he gave chase nonetheless. He ran into the night, the wind and rain soaking his fur to the bone. When he came to the edge of their territory, where the shield had once been, he collapsed in exhaustion and let up a deep, heart-wrenching howl of despair. He had lost his daughter to the darkness.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Quinn glanced at Kayla as they rode, remembering what she had told him about her dreams. It had been several weeks of hard riding since that night, but the word never seemed to be far from his consciousness. “Angel,” she had said.

  He had asked Wolf Mother so many times for guidance and information about his mate, and the goddess had offered so little. But since Kayla had experienced the dreams, the answer seemed so very obvious, if being fathered by a mythical being could be an obvious answer.

  Kayla didn’t think angels were real, but just because no one had seen an angel in their time didn’t mean they didn’t exist.

  The army rode into flat, high desert. The sun was bright and hot in the daytime, but temperatures dropped to freezing at night. It was sparse and barren, making it difficult to feed the troops. The ever-present threat of the mountain trek ahead of them hung in the air like an unspoken curse. They all knew what was coming. Those born before the cataclysm were well aware of the geography, and those born after had been made so by their leaders.

  Felix had advised that they go south through the desert, but when they sent riders to scout, they found the black slime they’d witnessed before consuming massive swaths of land. It was impossible. Their only option was the mountains. The darkness blocked their path. It consumed the roads, bridges, and passes that would have allowed them to make their way west without taking the mountain passage. The northern roads were clear, pinning them to their fate like cattle in a chute.

  The night before, as they sat around the fire and contemplated what to do next, Felix told stories of the first settlers who’d crossed the mountains
in winter. They had been stuck in the snow and had resorted to cannibalism to survive until spring. Jagger told Felix to shut up when he shared that bit of information.

  The morning was clear and bright, and Quinn enjoyed the warm sunshine on his cheeks. After so many months on horseback, hours in the saddle in a day could lull him into a trance. In the distant expanse of air and open desert, he saw a mirage shimmering on the horizon. He’d become used to such things during the trek, and he thought nothing of it. But when the mirage began to move like ants in a tornado, Quinn blinked several times, trying to clear his vision.

  “What is that?” he asked Kayla.

  She lifted her binoculars and looked into the distance. “I’m not sure.”

  “Did you see movement ahead?”

  “I did for a moment. But now I don’t see anything. It’s just a mirage. Felix already explained those to us.”

  Quinn tried to believe that was all he was seeing, but there was an uneasiness in his chest that he couldn’t shake. Soon, he saw the same mirage all around them. And every so often, the movements would appear from within the haze then disappear again.

  “It’s all around us,” Quinn said to Kayla.

  “What is all around us?”

  “This movement. It looks like ants.”

  “What are you talking about, Quinn?” She raised her binoculars again and looked around.

  “A mirage isn’t supposed to move,” Quinn said.

  Willa and Mackenzie joined them, concerned looks on their faces. “Something’s happening,” Willa said.

  “We can feel magic,” Mackenzie added.

  “We are only a hundred miles from a major witch city,” Willa said.

  “We’re under attack,” a rider screamed, galloping in.

  Quinn pulled his reins, stopping his horse midstride. The army had spread out in the open space, and their marching formation was relaxed. He looked around at the legion and saw what had happened.

  Kayla looked through her binoculars and kicked Lightning into a canter toward the commotion. Felix followed her with the witches right behind and the brothers catching up to them soon after. Jagger began shouting orders, commanding the legion into formation. Willa chanted a spell.

  Out of the shimmer that surrounded them, an army of witches appeared, closing in from every direction. Shifters were strong and sturdy, natural fighters even without their ability to shift. But witches had magic, and battle mages were deadly.

  A wave of frost magic hit the north-facing side of the army, and the cries of the soldiers filled the air as they were blown to pieces. Those who had survived the blast frantically retreated with injuries caused by the freezing cold blast. Quinn was stunned by the extent of their wounds.

  Mackenzie began to chant, raising the dead and turning them back on the approaching witch army. Her undead minions were full of magical stamina. The risen dead stampeded through the witches to the north. But the witches had surrounded the entire shifter army, trapping them on every side. Mackenzie’s horde of dead bodies were already spread thin. Willa began to weave illusions, confusing the oncoming horde.

  The shifters to the west and south fought valiantly, Quinn and Kayla among them. Quinn saw a battalion leader sitting upon a warhorse, surrounded by lesser witches. She was casting a spell. Her banner, with the insignia of fire magic emblazoned on the fabric, flew high in the air.

  Quinn began a prayer to the Wolf Mother to bring down his lance. It shot from the air and appeared in his fist. He gripped his luminous weapon and thrust it toward the fire mage. It flew through the air with practiced precision, slicing through the unsuspecting witch in a heartbeat. She fell from her horse, her body blown in two. He then turned his efforts to protecting his people with shields of light and healing their wounds, but there were so many that he could only focus on the strongest warriors at the front.

  His alpha mate shot half a dozen arrows at a time, using the full power of her magic. Her arrows blasted through the hearts of lesser witches as they approached her people. When fighters on both sides fell and were taken by death, Mackenzie brought their bodies back to half life and charged them against the witch army.

  In every direction, dozens of fighters fell to the wrath of the mages. But none of them could stop to mourn their dead even as they were risen again to fight.

  The battle raged. Kayla charged toward the front line, and Quinn cast a protective bubble around her. She raised her hands and blew a hundred witches backward like she’d shot them with a gale-force wind. They fell to the ground, and Kayla drew her bow and nocked her arrows. When Quinn felt his energy replenish, he called down another lance of light. He spotted a battalion leader casting corruption magic. The banner behind the mage’s dark horse bore a symbol of bubbling green poison. Quinn gripped his lance and threw it at the mage, but just before it hit, the mage disappeared. The entire army of mages disappeared in a heartbeat.

  “They’ve retreated,” Jagger said, trotting up beside him.

  “We’ve lost so many,” Quinn said.

  “Heal the wounded,” Jagger replied with a grimace, not responding to Quinn’s mention of their losses.

  They found refuge in a hidden canyon that could be defended from all sides and made camp. Quinn tended to the sick as the healthy put up tents and built fires. When he had worked himself to exhaustion, he found Kayla sitting by her campfire, sipping a cup of tea.

  “I hear rumblings in the camps,” Kayla said.

  “What about?”

  “Some are considering going home. They’re losing faith. I don’t blame them.”

  He sat beside her. “We can’t lose faith.”

  “This was a fool’s errand. We should have known.”

  “This was the right thing to do, and you know it. We are meant to defeat Veronica and close the rift.”

  “How can we defeat an army of demons, when we lost a quarter of our number in a battle against witches? They weren’t even the strongest witches in our world. Just an average army defending their city to the north. I have it on good authority from Willa and Mackenzie that they didn’t sense any magic that was particularly strong.”

  “What do you want to do, Kayla?” Quinn asked, growing increasingly concerned.

  “I can’t give up now. But if the army wants to leave us, then we have to let them.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The army pushed on without those who chose to return home. When they reached the base of the Rocky Mountains, the cool set in. Flurries of snow whirled around them night and day as they climbed.

  “We have to go back,” Aaron Windspear said.

  “If we turn back, we can weather the winter in the desert,” Jagger said as he rode up beside them.

  Mackenzie shook her head. “If we wait in the desert, we’ll surely be attacked again by the witches from Las Vegas. We already witnessed how they reacted to us being in their region.”

  “But we beat them,” Jagger said.

  “We lost a quarter of our army in that battle. I’m not willing to lose any more.”

  “We’ll lose more than that to the cold if we don’t find shelter soon,” Aaron Windspear replied. “You’re the queen of the shifters. Figure it out.” He rode off ahead and joined his pack.

  Kayla felt a bitter taste in her mouth. She knew to the core of her being that the only way to remove the darkness from Oksana was to cut it off at the source. If she did nothing else in her lifetime, she would fight for her baby. The army continued climbing in the swirling white chill of the snow. The gale increased with each step.

  “We have to find shelter!” Jagger bellowed over the wind. “The soldiers on foot can’t go anymore.”

  Most of the shifters had left their villages on horseback, but they had lost many of their horses in the battle with the witches, and many of their number were walking. They stopped when a wagon got stuck in the snow. The sharp chill of jagged snowflakes sliced Kayla’s cheeks.

  Out of the blinding white mist stepped a figure wra
pped in black. Kayla saw it in the distance and lifted her binoculars, expecting to be attacked again. It was a figure on horseback wearing a heavy black cloak. A raven perched on its shoulder.

  She pushed Lightning forward, coming closer to the being as a dozen men dug the wagon out of the snow. As she drew to the head of the line, she made out the face of the figure under the hood of the cloak. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in his dark skin, dreadlocks, white tattoos, and bright eyes. It was Malik, the chaos mage she’d met in Dark Haven. She kicked Lightning into a slow gallop and waved at him. He lifted his hand in greeting. Her heart burst with happiness as they met in the road.

  “Welcome,” Malik said. “Come with me. Our compound is close.”

  The chill shooting down her spine bit through the layers of furs and leather wrapped around her, but soon she would have shelter. She spun Lightning and charged back to the head of the line, where she announced they’d been saved.

  Malik led the five-hundred-soldier army over what had once been a well-tended highway. It was slick with ice, and treacherous drop-offs appeared at every turn. The army turned down a side road and continued for several miles, the descent even more dangerous than on the highway.

  Finally, they reached what looked like a sheer cliff jutting upward thousands of feet and disappearing into the clouds above. Malik waved his hand, and the cliff face opened, revealing a door in the illusion. The army slowly trudged through the opening and into the courtyard of a fortified compound. Natural earth jutted up all around them, and a steel door opened to allow them inside. The illusion closed behind them, and when the army entered the fort, the steel door closed as well. Inside was a three-story building made of hardwood timber. Smoke billowed from many chimneys, and lights glowed in the windows.

  Malik turned to Kayla. “This was a ski resort before the cataclysm. Kelvyn found it when he was flying over on his carpet, looking for a place to hide. We gathered several other witches who disagreed with the order of things, and we created our own coven here. We can keep an eye on the legions of darkness and on the rest of the world from our summit. Come inside. There is plenty of room for everyone. We are stocked with game and produce, so you should be able to rest here as long as you need.”