Adora watched the servants passing among her guests, serving various finger foods and drinks as she sipped Renline wine. The tart vintage was one of the last since those elves had gone into hiding. They’d been one of Drago’s first targets before he’d focused his genocidal efforts on half-elves. ‘His machinations are so chaotic. My spies tell me he’s promising his people equity and their fair share, justifying his actions against those he claimed were privileged, while his demons randomly attack any they come across.’ Her fingers tightened on the wineglass’s stem. ‘Where was the Renlines’ equity?’

A cluster of people had gathered around Lady Soo-jau in almost a mini-court. ‘Meanwhile, she has granted me the privilege of her attention while also seeming to be unaware of how almost everyone is fawning over her, trying to gain her favor, holding court in my home.’

Adora sat her glass down as her nemesis Donnell Maverick approached. ‘What scheme have you come up with now, Donnell?’ She held back from rolling her eyes by the barest grasp at royal decorum.

“Your Majesty, I simply must—”

The closed doors of the dining room burst open and a maid stumbled in, holding her neck, deep scarlet flowing over her fingers, before falling to the floor, dead. Adora froze, gaze locked on the dead girl as the music came to a dissonant halt.

A collective gasp raced through the room, almost ruffling her hair. A high-pitched scream sounded, triggering others and sending her guests scrambling away from the blood spreading from the maid’s body.

Donnell Maverick shoved a servant over as he turned to run, the glasses crashing to the ground with the wooden serving platter adding to the discordant cacophony. His elbow hit Adora’s glass, knocking it over, sending chilled wine over her shoes and stockings.

One of the noble women who’d been speaking with Soo-jau fell over an overturned chair in her mad scramble away from the dead girl.

A cluster of her guests, some crushed against it, shoved the dining table back in their haste.

The queen jolted back to herself. ‘I’ve got to get these people out of here. Kellün, give me strength.’

“Everyone!” Her voice thundered across the room cutting through the panic. “I need you to gather behind me and prepare to exit the room in an orderly fashion.”

The metallic scent of blood clashed violently with the sweet smell of Renline wine and savory meats on toppled dishes.

Before anyone could move, an imposing humanoid figure ducked under the doors and straightened to its full height of twelve feet. A powerful aura of darkness enveloped its grotesque, yet well-developed form. It possessed avian feet, grey skin, four wings that smoked and gleamed with oil, and a feral bird’s beak in an otherwise handsome face. Electricity raced along the blade of a huge great sword in its meaty left hand. Adora bit back the scream that tried to rip from her chest. Her people would panic if she showed her own fear.

“Pazuzu.”

The word came from a growling Lady Soo-jau. She stood off by herself, an icy gaze locked on the being.

“Soo-jau, my darling.” The creature’s voice was like rancid honey.

Her lips parted in a snarl. “You trespass on my territory, demon.” Her own voice was hard as granite, and caused the temperature to drop several degrees.

Adora shivered and ushered the people out the dining room while the demon was distracted by Lady Soo-jau, fighting her desire to give battle to the demonic being. ‘Kellün would want me to rescue the innocent.’

“My darling, it is not by my hand that I am here.” The demon uttered an easy chuckle. “I have been summoned to be a savior.”

‘Summoned to be a savior?’ Adora paused in guiding Donnell out the door, not realizing his back was under her hand. ‘Was it Tyrese Hathshire? Or someone else?’

“Mortals ill need a savior such as you, Pazuzu.” Her voice was now an elongated growl.

Soo-jau’s body shifted violently. Her mouth stretched, nose elongating—fangs breaking through as her teeth sharpened. Fingers fused into three talons, each tipped in black. Her body expanded, muscles knotting, and her feet tore through her slippers, revealing powerful claws. Her robes dissolved, scales shimmering in their place as her shoulders broadened.

With a crack, immense wings burst from her back, curving over her shoulders. Her head, blunt and fierce, bore a massive forward-curving horn, another point rising behind it, and rows of hornlets that lined her brow and nostrils. She glared at Pazuzu, arcs of lightning crackling between her fangs—a warning of the storm waiting within.

At the sight of Lady Soo-jau turning into a dragon, the servants and guests cried out and they began to push and shove at one another, each trying to get out the door without worry for anyone else. The scrum became bunched up as the doorway was only wide enough for two people to walk through at a time.

“Take your time, people.”

Adora shouted the words, but could not hear herself over the screams. ‘I doubt anyone else heard me, either. I wish I knew a spell to make my voice heard over everyone else’s.’

She didn’t see who threw the first punch, but soon fists and feet were flying everywhere. An errant punch clipped her ear, making blood flow. Pain exploded from the strike as she briefly fantasized about cutting everyone down. Ear hot, she instead shouted.

“Settle the fuck down.”

Her voice came like thunder, but at the same time, Pazuzu struck at the dragon Soo-jau, drowning her command out.

“One at a time, everyone.”

The magically charged command came in the unmistakable voice of Lord Tyrese Hathshire of Bisquine.

The crowd settled down and followed the order without further noise.

Hathshire’s voice was rich and powerful, as if filled with magic. Adora felt her mouth drop as she clutched her chest. ‘What the hells?’ She glanced around, searching for the unctuous Hathshire. A knot formed in her belly as she hunted the man through narrow eyes. ‘What is he up to? Is he genuine, or is there a hidden motive?’

She found him just outside the exit, waving the guests and servants through. A group of armored guards, wearing his family crest guided them through the corridors to the outside.

‘Where are my guards?’ Her chest tightened. ‘This had better not be one of his, or Maverick’s schemes.’

A sharp cracking noise brought her out of her thoughts with a jolt. She looked over her shoulder to see Pazuzu lift Soo-jau from where she lay on the ground, head weaving, and slam her down once more.

‘Oh, hells, no.’ Her jaw clenched. ‘I will not let that stand.’ She cast a holy strike, building the spell in her palm. ‘This is surely going to get his attention. Lady Soo-jau will be able to recover.’ The celestial power continued to grow. ‘When he reaches for her again…’

The power burst into silvery sparkles that faded away as if sucked back into her..

‘Adora, he is Primordial. Save the people.’

The unfamiliar voice made her freeze. She looked upward. ‘Who are you?’

No response came. The bunched up crowd at last made it down the hall to the outer doors where they bunched up again.

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She pushed her way through the people, some to turned to scowl before recognizing her and parting. The scent of decayed vanilla told her what she’d find before she poked her head out.

The creature appeared to be a stunning, beautiful, statuesque and nude woman with flawless milky skin and raven hair. Large bat wings unfurled from her shoulders as fought and killed Adora’s guards, marring her tempting form. A slender black tail curled and uncurled around her legs as she moved. It would whip out at random moments and skewer someone who pressed his sword against hers. Her red eyes glowed with hunger for blood.

‘Oh, great. A L’Arc.’ She gave a small shake of her head with a pinched expression on her face. Her vision wavered as a sudden wave of pressure went through her head. ‘Damned headache.’

She raised a trembling hand to calm the panicked crowd, the air around her heavy with the smell of smoke and scorched fabric. The distant rumble of collapsing stone punctuated the silence as she stepped forward to face the seductress demon.

She noted Hathshire leaning forward over a servant’s shoulder, eyes locked on herself. He licked his lips as they twitched into a small smile. She rolled her eyes as she focused on the demon.

A guard in the middle of deflecting the demon’s strike spotted his queen and leaped back from the L’Arc.

Adora whistled, a sharp shrill that caught the demon’s attention.

“Ooh, the queen herself.” The L’Arc’s voice was throaty and smoky, hinting a carnal pleasures. “How… delectable.”

Adora snorted. “Does that tempt anyone?” She angled her head in curiosity.

The L’Arc’s expression warped from an inviting smile to a snarl in an instant. She leaped to strike the queen in a blink.

Adora caught the demon by the throat and held her in the air, viridian gleaming over her hand. Her muscles trembled from the demon’s weight and the celestial magic coursing through her.

The demon shrieked as the queen’s grasp smoked. She raked her claws across Adora’s wrist, trying to get away from the terrible burning.

Adora bore the pain, ignoring the blood dripping from the demon’s claws. She tightened her grip and the bluish-green light intensified.

The shriek of demonic agony changed to a gurgle as the demon’s movements slowed. Her arms slumped to her sides, leaving the L’Arc dangling.

With a grunt, Adora lifted the demon higher and her head popped off. Ichor fountained into the air and dropped onto the queen, covering her in black. The sulphur scented fluid chilled her and stung her skin where it landed.

“Kellün’s balls.” Her cry bounced off the walls and she gave a theatrical shake of her body. “That was nasty.” She wiped her hands against a pillar as she moved back to the murmuring crowd.

A couple lords and ladies backed away from their bloody queen with faint squeals of disgust.

She met Tyrese’s eyes and winked at him with a smirk. ‘That’s what I think of the demons you’re able to summon, Hathshire.’

He shoved forward, causing people to stumble and almost forcing Donnell Maverick to the ground. “Why are you playing with that demon, and not fighting the dragon and demon she summoned into your home?”

The smirk dropped from her face like a boulder from a cliff. Adora stepped forward, forcing the lord to tilt his head back.

“I play with nothing, and I was commanded to get everyone to safety.” A muscle in her jaw twitched, though her voice was frosty.

Donnell rose to his feet, face flushed. “What the hells, Hathshire?” Spittle flew from his mouth.

A sharp, electrified tang filled Adora’s nostrils, the unmistakable scent of lightning in the air. Pazuzu smashed through the dining hall wall in a cloud of shattered stone and dust. The Primordial flew down the hall before crashing to the floor. His passage ripped up the flagstone floor in a furrow that lead to where he lay against the door of the servant’s entrance into the castle.

A chunk of the dining room wall smashed the Lord of the Great Land Plains into a raspberry jelly.

A woman fell to the ground in a faint as another shrieked. Adora raised her hand to get everyone’s attention back to her. Chunks of marble and plaster littered the floor, coating everything in a thick layer of white dust that clung to her dress and skin. ‘I’ve got to get to my armor and weapons.’

A colossal three-toed foot crushed a fallen section of wall, pulverizing it under the weight of a step from the indigo scaled Soo-jau. Balls of electricity sparked where her eyes had been. Her titanic jaws parted and a blue-white glow built up. Jagged forks jumped between her fangs before she thrust her head forward, sending a pulsating line of lightning down the corridor into the Primordial’s chest.

“Get down!” Adora almost screamed the warning.

For the most part, lightning doesn’t care how you try to guide it, it just wants to get to the ground as soon as possible. Majority of Soo-jau’s breath weapon hit her target, but some leaped out to hit those not fast enough to drop. Their screams cut off as their bodies jerked and twitched while errant electricity raced through their bodies. The unfortunate few turned black and bloody as the heat and electricity fried them crisp. They at last hit the ground, cracked skin blackened, and bloody, dead as the breath weapon faded. Ozone, smoke, and burned flesh filled the air.

Sobs and screams filled the air. In the distance, swords clashed and demons roared, reminding the queen the battle still raged outside the servants hall they were in.

Adora’s eyes darted from corpse to living subject, not settling for more than a blink as her stomach roiled. She felt jittery and her back hurt from a muscle spasm. She ran a trembling hand over her face as the ground shook with the rapid passage of the dragon’s charge to continue her attack on the Primordial. Saliva filled her mouth as her stomach tried to send its contents back up. She spat to the side and clenched her teeth against the pending sick.

She took a deep breath and pushed herself to her feet. ‘Focus, Adora. Get everyone to safety, and then break down. You are the queen and WarPriest of Kellün. Act like it.’ She helped a rumpled man to his feet before realizing it was Tyrese Hathshire. She jerked her hand away as if burned.

He gave her a smug look, but the paleness of his face and the sweat rolling down his left cheek gave away his turmoil.

“Head back to the dining room. Go back out of there the way you came in when you were announced.”

“And be killed? You’d like that wouldn’t you.” His face flushed as he cast the accusation at her.

“I’m going to be sending everyone that way.” She felt her upper lip curl in a sneer before forcing her lips tightly together.

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off before he could make a sound.

“Obey. No arguments.” She leaned forward. “Or stay to die.” She shrugged, already turning away. “It’s up to you, Lord Hathshire.”

Without waiting to see what he chose, Adora raced down the debris-strewn corridor to aid the rest of her people.

###

A thunderclap rent the air, its roar mixing with the clash of metal, the screams of demons and men locked in battle. Blood soaked mud squished underfoot as a tall, wide man dressed in ragged leather armor appeared just beneath the many noses of the hydra. They arched back in surprise. And instant later, another man, this one shirtless, showing off an impressively muscled torso, appeared beside the first.

“Holy shit, Amando. That was intense.” The one in ragged armor stumbled and then steadied himself. He covered his mouth with his hand as if trying not to be sick.

The blond hair man laughed, a hearty guffaw. “I told you. Directed teleportation is spectacular, yet not for the fainthearted.” He slapped the other man on the back.

“Ow.”

Both chuckled at the ragged man’s dry sound.

The multi-headed demon recovered from its surprise and lunged for the dark-haired man’s head, fetid breath leading the way. A streak of white, and the hydra’s mouth was clamped on a sharp blade which split its mouth wide. It recoiled with a squeal, green blood flowing from its cut and raining down on the ragged man. The acrid stench of chlorine hit the air above them.

He brushed the stinging and smoking fluid from his exposed skin. “Those reinforcements would be handy, right about now.” The dark-haired man said.

“You would be correct, Sir Lavitz.”

Amando snapped his fingers and more explosions rent the air. Instantaneously, thousands of men, dressed in glistening blue-black armor appeared with swords, nets, harpoons and other assorted, exotic weaponry. Without waiting for orders, they launched themselves at the army of bewildered demons which hadn’t expected reinforcements to teleport in. That had been their domain only. The few moments of shock allowed the new comers to slaughter demons by the score. Unholy shrieks filled the air.

Lavitz’ weapon sliced through the neck of a hydra head as if it were a hot knife through warm butter. The demon reared back, stumbling in pain, uttering a bizarre ululation. One of the eight remaining heads looked at its wound in disbelief. A silver bubbling liquid seared the stump shut. The head whipped around to Lavitz, and screamed in rage. It lashed out, and then detonated.

The shockwave sent the hydra to its knees. Amando pushed his hands through the air in the direction of a couple other heads which swelled and then popped like overripe melons. In a blink, Lavitz whirled his blade around in a figure eight pattern, taking off two other heads. More of the silver liquid bubbled and sealed the wounds. The prince of the Mer snapped his fingers and the remaining heads exploded in a shower of green ichor.

Lavitz swaggered over to the stunned Angriz. “Miss me, my friend?”

He took in the ragged, patchwork armor, the gore covered beard with the scar running through it, and knew his friend was still in disguise. “You’re late, Sir Lavitz.” His gaze cool and steady beneath his aureate scales.

“I am not. I arrived precisely when I meant to.”

“You promised me reinforcements nearly a year ago.”

He waved his hand at the armored warriors battling the demons. “What do you call these?”

He put his hands on his hips. “Late. As I said.”

“They cannot be late, as I never said when they’d be delivered.”

Angriz growled. “You’re impossible.”

“And precise.” He grinned at the golden-scaled half-dragon.

He snorted and turned away. “What am I ever going to do with you, Sir Lavitz?” He watched the tide turn in the battle he’d been on the verge of losing before. As no demon was close at the moment, he risked a look over his shoulder at his disguised king.

“Hmmm.” Carter had bowed his head, pretending to give it a great deal of thought.

Angriz shook his head. “Go do what you do best and kill lots of demons, Sir Lavitz.”

“Are you commanding me as my general, or as my friend?”

The half-dragon chuckled. And jogged off to help finish the fighting.

Carter directed his attention back to the Prince. “Well, Sire, ready to go back to slaughtering demons?” He grinned. “Turnabout is — ”

“Fair play,” Amando finished and smirked. The prince of the Mer clasped his hands together and as he drew them apart, a golden light grew, revealing a silvery-blue trident. As he pointed it at the horde of demons, Carter could almost hear the surf pounding on a distant beach. “Ready to battle more of Drago’s minions, my friend?”

“Indeed.”