I was right. He was a man completely worth following, not one to let traditions dictate what should be done. Nor was he stupid enough to buy into the notion of pure blood.
“I’ll keep it in mind,” I promised him. “On that note, shall we go to bed?”
“We probably should. It’s late, and we leave early in the morning.” Prince James stood, stretched with arms high overhead, and groaned. “I’ve been sitting here too long, clearly. Good night, Edwin.”
For once, the smile on my face was genuine and not politely forced. “Good night, Your Highness.”
Eleven
James
The reverberation from blocking the Demon King’s strike shuddered up my arms. I couldn’t fall yet. I didn’t want to live, not with my Edwin gone, but I couldn’t die yet—this bastard was going down with me.
The sound of tortured metal was a cacophony in my ears as his sword slid against my own blade. I locked it in with his hilt and used the moment to lift a knee, nailing him in the groin. He was armored, but still, that must have hurt since he flinched backward.
That one second was all I needed to lash out again, this time flinging his sword down and away, using the momentum to slash into his side. My blade impacted harshly, slicing right under his chest plate. The Demon King let out an aborted scream as steel cut into flesh, and he staggered back a step. Blood trickling down my face and into my mouth, I grinned a bloody smile. I followed him with a quick flurry of attacks, not willing to let him off so easy, wanting an end to this fight. He managed to parry, then locked our hilts again, buying himself a second to breathe.
The human vessel he occupied had been handsome in life, a tall and strong figure, but the black hair fell in strings around his face, and he smelled horrendous. Of course a demon wouldn’t bathe or care about the needs of its human host. The Demon King was powerful, human sacrifices giving him a boost of regenerative ability, but the boost had failed when the mages put down their many, many traps and anti-magic constructs. He wasn’t healing as fast as he needed to in order to win this fight.
And we both knew it.
“Vuheia blessed you,” he panted out, eyes glowing with unholy fire, “but you won’t survive this fight, even with her blessing.”
I laughed, a short burst with no mirth. “Joke’s on you, bastard.I don’t want to live.”
True fear flared in his eyes then. Perhaps the fear powered him and gave him the strength to tear free of my hold once more. He was quicker, a touch faster, and our swords met again and again.
He’d already injured me. I was bleeding profusely from two spots, my footwork sloppy. I wasn’t going to last much longer. The thought brought a strange mixture of desperation and relief churning through me. Still, I fought. I fought because I had a duty, and even if I didn’t care about myself anymore, I knew Edwin had been scared for his family’s safety. As a last service to him, I would make sure this war ended today, that his family stayed safe.
My foot slipped in the muddied, bloodied ground, and it was the wrong moment to lose my balance, even a little. The Demon King’s blade found an opening, sliding between my breastplate and tasset to slip right into my gut. Agonizing white-hot pain radiated through my body, robbing me of all breath. My eyes watered in reaction and his form blurred, but I could hear him gloating.
“I’ll grant your wish, then, little king, since you don’t want to live.Die.”
Not without you.
Determination flared, hotter and stronger than the pain coursing through my body. I’d almost dropped my sword, but one hand had kept a grip on it. I raised it, and with the last bit of strength I had in me, I swung hard—in an arc right at his neck.
The surprise on the Demon King’s face was blurry, but I still grinned seeing it as I took his head clean off his shoulders. Vuheia had indeed blessed me, for which I thanked her. I wouldn’t have been strong enough to behead a man with one hand otherwise.
My breath shuddered out of me. Finally, finally I could die. I collapsed sideways on the ground, the pain of landing minuscule compared to the pain already beating at me like a war drum. I’m coming, my darling, I’m finally coming to join you.
The Demon King’s detached head stared back at me. I expected sightless eyes but instead they blinked at me, and those horrid black lips twisted up in a grin.
“Round two?”
Gargling around a scream of denial, I reached for my sword—
Then fell completely, landing with a hard thump against the wooden floor. Owww.
Disoriented, I looked around in bewilderment. Wood floor? Oh, there was a bed. Blankets wrapped around my legs like they were in league with demons, intent on trapping me. I was…where?
The memory took a moment, my brain foggy from the vestiges of my nightmare. The inn. I was at the inn in Berengar. Right. I was on my second life.
I flopped sideways, relief swamping me. It really had been a nightmare. A memory of the past, up until the last bit, because the body the Demon King had possessed really had died after I’dbeheaded him. He hadn’t grinned and asked for another round. Fortunately.
I wasn’t sure which ached more, my heart or my left shoulder, but either way I didn’t want to spend the rest of the night on this cold floor. With a sigh, I set about untangling myself and got up—harder than it sounded, as the sheets really were tangled and didn’t want to let go of me.
Once on my feet, I didn’t even try going back to bed, too sweaty and shaky and unsettled for sleep. Instead, I wet a rag from the en suite bathroom and wiped down the worst of the sweat, then changed back into pants and shirt. Not feeling much better, I cast about for what to do. Dawn was an hour or so away yet.
