Blood Rites 5, page 19
They made the mistake of believing he was alone.
A lone enemy for them to isolate and defeat.
That explained why Valka created these monsters that he couldn’t touch.
But the shortsightedness of the goddess of war told Lazarus everything he needed to know about his enemy.
Valka had underestimated Lazarus’s most powerful assets.
Alone, Lazarus was not strong enough to defeat Sanguiana, Valka, or any of the gods. They knew that, and they thought that was all they needed to know.
A slow grin spread across Lazarus’s face as he considered Valka’s folly. Of all people, the goddess should have known that, while a leader’s strength came from his connection to the people of his kingdom, what made Lazarus truly dangerous to the gods who sought to meddle in this world was his connection to his harem.
Each woman who had joined his fold had a unique and valuable skillset that Lazarus could support with his blood magic even when he was not able to fight. Seeing the determined looks upon his women’s faces as they stared out at the encroaching army, Lazarus knew they were about to unleash a firestorm upon his enemies.
Valka would be lucky if she could limp away from this battle.
Lazarus might be rendered nearly impotent against these foes, with the goddess’s magic shielding her minions from his blood magic… but the cruel twist that left him dependent on his harem's strength, might actually be a hidden strength.
Because Valka had no idea what she’d just opened the doors to.
“Never seen a man look quite so pleased with himself with an army of monsters barreling down upon him,” Thaddeus said, coming up beside Lazarus with Yvonne at his side. “Care to share your secret, sir?”
Hershel, who had been pretending to polish his sword while he gazed out at the oncoming host, coughed into his fist. “No secret, Captain,” he said, leaning in to join the conversation. “Boss just knows those bugs are about to get fucked up. Did you see Rowan scorch that centipede? And Aria’s got a look in her eye that might be more deadly than this blade. I don’t suppose I have to remind you that Sylvia is a dragon. And Gisele…”
The petite blond woman perked up at her name. She spun to face Herschel, pinning him with a liquid gaze. She smiled broadly. “Yes, Herschel?” she prompted. “What about me?”
Gisele’s purple robes were still stained with blood and she twirled two lethal looking daggers in her hands as she waited for his answer.
Herschel glanced away quickly, and sheathed his sword. He shuffled over to Lazarus’s other side, keeping his eyes lowered. “You’re very nice,” he said. “And not even a little bit crazy.”
“That’s right,” Gisele chirped, grinning even wider. “Nice, normal, and not at all crazy. That’s all I ever wanted anyone to think about me.”
“Whether its true or not,” the old soldier muttered under his breath, and Lazarus bumped him roughly with his shoulder to silence him.
“You’re all going to be wonderful,” Lazarus said. “And with my abilities prolonging your strength and stamina, Valka doesn’t stand a chance against us.”
Aria's hands glowed with a radiant light, the inverse of her healing magic ready to sap the life from their enemies. “The soldiers I healed yesterday all wish to be on the frontlines for this battle, Lazarus,” she said. “If I may lead them…?”
Lazarus took the healer’s hands in his, sensing the crackling, dark energies that moved beneath the surface of her pristine flesh. She gazed up at him with her wide, honey-brown eyes, and for a moment he was transported back to his jail cell in Crimson Keep, and to the waifish girl who’d captured his heart with her desperate, innocent desire to please him. Echoes of that girl still lived behind Aria’s fierce-eyed gaze, but now, her innocence lost, the Saintess commanded far more than his heart.
Lazarus nodded, motioning toward the left side of the wall and the south tower. “Hold our flank,” he said, pausing to kiss her gently. He added, “Thaddeus and Yvonne will be your support.”
“I love you,” Aria whispered. “And I will kill any who try to harm you, whether they claim godhood or not.”
Lazarus’s heart swelled. “I love you, too. We’ll bring down these gods together.”
Thaddeus nodded brusquely and followed the healer as she strode defiantly for a vantage point upon the tower. In her creamy robes, Aria gleamed like a beacon in the light of the rising sun, her chestnut curls whipping around her face in the icy wind. A wall of soldiers stood behind her, looking like they’d be willing to throw themselves off the wall and into the enemy ranks in order to save the woman who had wrenched them from the brink of death.
“Rowan,” Lazarus said, turning to the ranger. “Are you feeling up to your own command?”
The red-headed woman nodded without hesitation. “Aria’s magic healed me in ways I didn’t know I was suffering,” she said. “So long as I don’t over-extend myself again, I will be fine. And if you can keep me topped up with Warrior’s Resolve…”
Lazarus nodded. “If I’m not fighting, there’s no reason I won’t be able to push all my power into you four. Every ounce of magic in my veins is yours this day.”
Rowan touched his arm gently, and stood on tip-toes to kiss his cheek. “Then I’ll not fail you, my love.”
Lazarus turned his face, his lips intercepting hers. “Be safe, Rowan. My love will strengthen you.”
“That is all I need,” she said, with a glimmer of tears in her bright green eyes. She wiped them away quickly and nodded firmly that she was ready.
“Herschel and his men will support you,” Lazarus said, gesturing for the old soldier to follow Rowan as she moved towards the north tower.
The druidess was a changed woman since she’d slain Felina’s stag. The change was subtle, yet impossible to ignore. Lazarus could feel her deep connection to the forces of nature, even standing next to her allowed him to sense the ancient magic that held the world together. Vines coiled along the ground when she moved, ice crystals hovered in the air, and fire flickered at her fingertips when she wasn’t paying attention. It was as if her entire being was consumed with power, now. Lazarus looked forward to seeing her in action again.
“I’ll be out there,” Gisele said, drawing a shroud of shadows about her swirling purple robes. “We’ll see how much courage Valka’s warriors have in the face of divinely inspired terror.”
She shimmered and disappeared only to reappear behind Lazarus, where she ran a teasing finger along the back of his neck. Lazarus felt the prickle of his hairs rising along his body as he turned to her, and pulled her into a fierce embrace.
“Happy killing, my little phantom,” he said, lowering his mouth to hers, and nibbling a plump red lip between his teeth. “Be careful out there.”
Gisele wriggled her fingers into his hair and held him close while she slipped her tongue past his lips. “No one will be more careful than me,” she whispered. “I have far too much to live for.”
“You do,” Lazarus said, giving her a squeeze. “I’m not done with you yet.”
“Is that a promise?” she asked with a wink. “Or a threat?”
“Whatever you need it to be in order to come back to me safe and sound,” Lazarus said. “I love you, Gisele. And I’ve only just gotten started.”
The small, blond woman shimmered in his arms and disappeared once more. This time Lazarus saw her reappear outside the gates of Red Redoubt where she hid, half-translucent, in the snow, her blades spinning at her sides.
“If I’d known you were dolling out such sweet words and kisses, I would never have agreed to stay behind at Crimson Keep,” Syliva said, sliding into place beside him.
The dragon woman currently wore a human form, though instead of clothing she was wrapped in armor made of her glimmering silver scales. Her hair shone like polished celestium in the early morning light, as she fixed him with a golden-eyed gaze.
“We’re very fortunate that you arrived when you did, Sylvia,” Lazarus said, sliding his arm about her waist and holding her close as they watched Valka’s forces approach. They were close now, almost close enough to strike. The sounds of the mantis-soldier’s armor clicked and clacked, reverberating across the frozen plains. “Though, I hope we won’t have to keep you long. I know Bella needs you too.”
Sylvia inhaled deeply, her narrow nostrils flaring, as she scented the enemy with her draconic senses. “I do not know these creatures,” she said. “But they have the stink of the gods about them, and that is reason enough for me to stay. I will bring news of our victory to Belladonna as soon as we are finished. I am grateful that I can be of use here, since my attempt to survey the mountain region was thwarted.”
Lazarus narrowed his eyes, squinting to peer at the mist-gray shadows of the Blackspine Mountains in the distance. When Sylvia had taken her detour to Red Redoubt after seeing Valka’s armies, she had immediately reported her failure to scout the alpine territory by wing or by foot. More weather workers appeared to be shrouding the mountain passes… either to make passage difficult for invaders or to hide whatever it was they were up to on the road to Ravenhold Castle.
“It is good that you tried,” Lazarus said. “At least now we have some warning of what to expect when we enter the passes. And it is no small fortune that you are here, now. I believe an arial attack is something Valka is ill prepared for.”
Sylvia’s lips spread in a wide grin, displaying sharp, draconic teeth. “Oh, they shivered as my shadowed passed them over,” she said. “Whatever the creatures are, they know to fear a winged fury such as myself. I will feast upon their alien flesh and make their fears come true.”
“It is almost time,” Lazarus said, feeling the anticipation of battle building within him. Even if he did not intend to fight, personally, his magic-infused blood pumped with excitement.
Sylvia spun in his arms, and gripped the front of his tunic, and pulled him into a passionate kiss. She was panting when she finally released him, her golden eyes staring into his—she was as tall as he was in this form—and her silver hair cascaded like a frozen waterfall over her shoulders. “Well?”
“I love you, too, Sylvia.” He grinned at her.
She shook him fiercely by the shirt, eyes blazing with emotion. “I don’t care for your saccharine words, Lazarus.”
“What do you need from me, then?” he asked, genuinely bemused by her reaction.
Sylvia took a shuddering breath and closed her eyes, as if relishing even the thought of speaking the words in her mind.
“I want you to take me as you took Selena in that tower,” she gushed, her breath coming in excited gasps. “I have not been able to think of anything but that for days, Master—”
“This is hardly the time to discuss our lovemaking, Sylvia,” Lazarus interrupted, glancing over the woman’s silver-scaled shoulder at the advancing warriors.
“Promise me,” she whispered, her breath ragged. “When all of this is over, you will ravage me like a demoness that needs to be tamed. If you can promise me that, I will be unstoppable.”
Lazarus grasped Sylvia by the hair and tugged her head back, exposing her throat. With his other arm, he squeezed her muscular body against his armored chest, and lowered his lips to her ear. She trembled in his arms as he held her there. “Bring me their heads,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “I will take you as a bedroom slave one night for every enemy you kill. Do well by me and I will ensure you never take another step without feeling the evidence of my pleasure between your thighs.”
The dragon woman let out a low moan as a tremor ran through her body, as if even the promise of such treatment were enough to bring her to the edge of climax.
“None shall survive, Master,” she gasped as he released her. Her golden eyes blazed with desire. “You vow has sealed their fates.”
She pushed herself up onto the ledge of the battlement, and stood, ready to leap from the precipice, her arms already beginning to transform into the sleek leathery wings of her dragon form.
Lazarus watched her with great admiration, and no little stirring in his blood. “And Sylvia?”
“Yes, Master?” Scales rippled across her shifting body.
“I do love you.”
The powerful woman smiled wide, shaking her head as her long silver hair hardened into a crest of jagged, bone spikes. “And I, you, Lazarus. Just you wait and see.”
With that, she leaped, her body stretching and expanding as the massive dragon muscles pulsed beneath her beating wings. Soldiers all around them shouted in alarm at Sylvia’s sudden transformation, and the dragon released a triumphant screech as she rose higher in the air.
Lazarus watched the army of mantis-soldiers tremble as her shadow rippled through their ranks.
It was time.
Lazarus raised his hand in the air, and shouted, “Attack!”
And before his voice had the chance to fade, the cries of war tore across the frozen plains of Silvergrass Steppe, once more pitting the rebels of Crimson Keep against the armies of Queen Desdemona’s divine generals.
21
An Unexpected Turn
Lazarus moved among his warriors, uttering words of power that bolstered their spirits and shielded them from harm. Many of the blood magic spells that he had learned to cast in battle were still usable despite Valka’s attempts to neuter his powers.
The King’s Roar unleashed a powerful battle cry that bolstered his soldier’s morale, and disoriented the weaker fodder ranks of the mantis creatures who were unfortunate enough to fall within range of Lazarus’s attack.
His Aura of Resilience worked to increase nearby soldier’s resistance to physical and magical damage.
The King’s Vengeance—another power he had removed Valka’s name from—allowed him to target an enemy, making them more susceptible to all attacks for a short period of time.
These were all spells that Lazarus had used in order to keep his troops fighting in the face of great odds, and they helped him now as the monsters flooded toward Red Redoubt in a wave of scythe-like weapons, gnashing mandibles, and far too many skittering legs.
What he hadn’t realized until he’d attempted it with Rowan and Aria the night before, was that the paladin spells which Lazarus had only ever attempted to use on himself could also be applied to his harem members. In the eyes of his blood magic, Lazarus’s lovers were an extension of himself.
Even more interesting, he could cast these spells at a distance—though they worked faster and were more powerful when he could lay hands upon the recipient of his magic, as he did now.
Lazarus gripped Aria by the shoulders, pushing a Shield of Retribution from his core of power and into hers.
“Thank you,” she said as the magic formed a glimmering red shield around her body. Her honey-brown eyes had darkened, the irises swelling and pushing against the whites, until she looked nothing like the innocent young girl he’d once known, replaced by a hellish battle-maiden ready to unleash a torrent of abuse against her attackers.
She smiled at Lazarus and climbed to a higher vantage point, raised her arms, and allowed the enemy arrows to bounce off her magic-protected form. Then she opened her mouth, revealing a maw of swirling black magic.
The healer inhaled, sucking tendrils of black fog from the frontline of mantis soldiers below her tower. The creatures staggered at first, as if suddenly growing tired, then dropped to their knees. As Aria continued her silent scream, sucking their lifeforce into her own body, dozens of mantis creatures collapsed dead before the wall they intended to scale.
Lazarus’s blood magic surged with each life that Aria delivered, as if the deadly healer were reaping souls in his name. His lips twitched with pleasure as he realized that he would be able to recharge his own power as quickly, if not more quickly, than he was feeding it into his lovers.
Aria’s enhanced soldiers, the ones she had rescued from their death beds, surrounded the healer, raining arrows, stones, and Thaddeus’s hand-made firebombs down upon the vanguard.
Gisele could be spotted sweeping through the enemy ranks, delivering death like the swift kiss of a young girl. Lazarus could spot her easily, for the mantis creatures scrabbled frantically away from her, causing chaos among their brethren. Yet they never moved swiftly enough to avoid the caress of her dancing blades. She worked in tandem with Aria and Rowan, distracting the enemy soldiers while the other women hit them with their unexpected attacks.
Upon the north tower, Rowan, her scouts and archers, and Herschel’s team of agile fighters worked together to rain fiery death upon the two massive centipedes. The druidess weakened more quickly than Aria did, so Lazarus blessed her with his Warrior’s Resolve, making sure to keep her reserves topped up so they didn’t risk her over-extending herself. The sheer scale of power at Rowan’s disposal now that Felina had opened the pathways of her ancient magic was staggering, and it took a lot of self-control for the magical ranger to keep her attacks measured enough to ensure she could go the distance of the entire battle.
Thick, black roots wound around Rowan’s feet and legs, securing her to the tower—though Lazarus couldn’t tell where the roots had come from. Spears of ice drawn from the frigid winter air gathered around her body and shot into the enemy ranks like deadly spears. Cyclones of fire cascaded through the air to explode upon the centipede’s bony carapaces, scattering the mantis foot soldiers as they sprayed flame and molten ichor across the battlefield.
Lazarus roared with laughter as Valka’s army fell before his soldiers, relishing the surge of power that flowed through his body with every kill.
And Sylvia, her silver dragon form glinting like gold in the dawn light, circled and dove, snapping the heads off the mantis soldiers and blasting them with her glittering celestial fire.
