Possessed by a Dark Warrior Read online

Page 13


  Bleu eyed the sandy-haired golden-skinned male in the kitchen and frowned.

  He couldn’t see the appeal himself.

  Kyter was amusing at times, a good friend at others, but the rest of the time he was annoying as hell.

  The jaguar shifter yawned so hard that his eyes closed and the coffee he was pouring into his mug hit the brim and flowed down the sides and all over the counter.

  “Fuck,” Kyter muttered and mopped up the mess. When he turned around, he scowled at Bleu. “That was your fault.”

  Bleu frowned right back at him. “My fault? I fail to see how you spilling coffee is my fault.”

  Kyter slumped into the chair to his left, between him and Iolanthe, kicked his bare feet up onto the white table, and sank lower, his coffee held in both hands above his naked torso.

  The male slid a mischievous look his way. “It was your lusty screams waking me at this fucking ungodly hour.”

  Bleu growled at him, flashing fangs in warning.

  The bastard just winked at him, the look in his eyes making it clear that he knew what had had Bleu crying out.

  Iolanthe’s gaze burned into him and he didn’t dare look at her, didn’t want to see how horrified she looked as she stared at him.

  “I told you I was fighting,” he said.

  “No… you said you were having a nightmare.”

  “I was.” Bleu shot her a look that demanded she let it go, one he’d had to use a thousand times on her in the past when she had been stubborn and acting like a Hell beast with a bone.

  Kyter grinned. “So we’re up in the middle of the fucking day because Bleu was having dirty dreams?”

  Bleu hissed at him this time, his ears flaring back against the sides of his head, unable to contain the reaction or stop himself from threatening the male.

  And confirming that he had been lost in a fantasy and not a nightmare judging by the wicked smiles Kyter and Iolanthe exchanged.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at both of them.

  Kyter shuddered and muttered, “Far too alike.”

  Iolanthe petted her mate’s leg and spoke to him. Bleu paid her no heed as he tried to figure out a way to convince both of them that he hadn’t been having a dirty dream. It was only when she mentioned dragons and the sword that he dragged himself back to the room.

  “Do you tell him everything now? Even things that were told to you in private?” Bleu frowned at her.

  She shrugged. “We are mates. Mates tell each other everything.”

  Fantastic. He couldn’t wait to come back to Underworld and have Kyter tease him about his desire to find his own fated female and everything else he had just confessed to his little sister.

  “Since we are going to talk about my mission, perhaps you could help me. I need all the information you have about the dragon realm and the borders with the Devil’s domain. Vail believes the sword is there, and you have travelled extensively in that area.” He was about to tack on an order in the elf tongue to keep his private matters to herself when Kyter spoke.

  “If you want information on the dragon realms and beyond, why don’t you just ask Loke?”

  “I would, if I knew the dragon’s location. Prince Loren will not give it to me.” He was also fairly certain that Loren would be angry with him for openly ignoring the promise he had made to the dragon, swearing he would leave him alone.

  But Bleu hadn’t made that promise, and he wouldn’t be breaking it if he visited the dragon male and questioned him. The more he considered it, the more he wanted to do it. It would certainly stop him from wondering why Loke had pressed his prince to swear such a thing in the first place when Loke had given him no information on the female dragon or the sword.

  Bleu had always obeyed his gut, and his gut was screaming that the dragon knew more than he had told Loren.

  It was time he spoke with the male himself.

  He looked across at Kyter. “You know where Loke lives?”

  “No,” Kyter said and Bleu was on the verge of snapping at him and asking why in the gods’ names he had mentioned the male then when the jaguar shifter jerked his thumb towards Iolanthe. “But she does. She teleported Anais there once when Loke went radio silent and the huntress was worried.”

  He shifted his focus to his sister.

  “I have a huge favour to ask you.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Green swirled around Bleu as his feet hit the ground in the centre of the portal landing zone, the air surrounding him shimmering with the tell-tale trail of his teleport. He strode forwards, across the dewy grass, his back to the glowing portal suspended in the sky that acted as the sun in the elf kingdom. The warm light threw his shadow out long in front of him, stretching it towards the pale stone garrison a short distance away on a hill.

  He focused on the squat two storey building that stood in the centre of a circular defensive wall and willed his portal. Power rippled over him and cool darkness followed it, a split second of infinite night that evaporated to reveal the arched wooden gate of the stronghold he and the others were to call home for the foreseeable future.

  Bleu looked back in the direction of the landing zone, one of the few places in the kingdom where those teleporting into it could enter. It was closer than he remembered, and he would have been concerned if they had been tracking any species who could use the portal pathways into the elf realm, but they weren’t. Dragons didn’t have the ability to teleport.

  He had never heard of them using the gates either, a method that allowed fae species such as shifters to enter Hell or travel around it.

  No. If the female dragon attacked them, she would do so from the air, and that meant coming over the mountains to the rear of the old garrison. She would have to cross the First Realm.

  Bleu looked towards it. He would send word to the demons, asking them to look out for dragons.

  The sound of metal clashing pulled his focus away from the numerous smaller duties he needed to perform as part of his mission.

  A grunt and growl followed it.

  Bleu huffed and gritted his teeth, praying to the gods for patience.

  Someone was sparring.

  He banged his right fist on the huge arched door and waited. After a few seconds, it creaked open and Fynn appeared in view, grinning from ear to ear. It wobbled a little as he looked at Bleu, and Bleu pinned him with an ice-cold glare meant to freeze the damned thing off his face.

  Dacian and Leif were the ones battling it out in the courtyard then. Bleu had seen them spar before and it had been less of a fight with weapons and more of a battle of wills.

  A battle that had gone on far too long, neither willing to admit defeat.

  Despite the difference in their builds, Dacian and Leif were too well matched, both skilled warriors with centuries of experience under their belts.

  Both stubborn bastards too.

  He couldn’t afford to have this sparring match end as the last one he had witnessed had—with Leif sporting broken ribs and a fractured collarbone, and Dacian sitting on his backside with his tibia jutting out of his left leg.

  Fynn drummed his fingers against the throwing knives strapped on both sides of his ribs over his black armour. The nervous twitch only grew in speed as Bleu slid him a black look meant to convey how annoyed he was that they had gone against one of his orders.

  The one he thought he had hammered into their thick skulls with enough force to make it stick.

  No one sparred, because heading into the dragon realm when injured was a death sentence and they couldn’t delay the mission to wait for anyone to heal.

  Bleu shot him another glare and then strode across the pale smooth flagstones towards the central building, and the two idiots going at it just outside it. He issued the command to his armour as he walked. The tiny scales rushed up his arms from the bands around his wrist and down his body, covering him just as his mortal clothes disappeared, sent away via his portal to his apartment in the main castle of the kingdom.
Anything he owned, he could teleport.

  Right now, he was debating teleporting his sword to his hand and beating some sense into Leif, Dacian and even Fynn.

  “Funny… but I believe I gave an order,” he barked in the elf tongue and both Leif and Dacian froze with their weapons held mid-swing.

  They slowly turned to face him and he stopped a short distance from them, set his jaw and folded his arms across his chest, pressing the tips of his naked fingers into his biceps to stop himself from calling his blade.

  “I could arrange for another team, perhaps one more willing to follow the orders I issue?” He shifted his gaze from Dacian, who rocked back on his heels into a relaxed position and lowered his black broadsword to his side, to Leif.

  The slender male calmly sent his blade away and ran a hand over his short hair. He could act nonchalant all he wanted, but Bleu could see straight through it to the nerves he was trying to hide. If he sent them back to the castle, it would be in disgrace and with black marks against their names.

  Leif’s family would probably request punishment for him as recompense for him tarnishing their noble name with such insubordination.

  Bleu wouldn’t be surprised if Dacian’s family went one further and asked for his execution.

  While the two were matched in battle, they couldn’t be further apart in standing. Dacian came from a long line of warriors. Leif came from a long line of pompous self-entitled nobles.

  Bleu knew which side of elf society he preferred.

  He looked back at Fynn where he still stood near the door, stroking his blades.

  If he had to choose, Bleu would stand with Fynn. His family were farmers.

  They might have that in common, but it wouldn’t stop Bleu from setting him to rights when he confessed whatever misdeed it was that he was trying to hide. He wasn’t nervous because Bleu had caught Leif and Dacian sparring.

  Something else had happened.

  He looked back at Dacian and Leif, and scrutinised them both, noticing now that there were no towels or refreshment waiting at the side lines, and no ring on the ground to mark the boundary of their battle. All things soldiers normally did when sparring.

  Both males were wearing their armour too.

  Because they hadn’t been sparring.

  They had been fighting.

  He rolled his eyes and sighed. And he had thought it couldn’t get worse. He was beginning to remember why he preferred to work alone.

  Leif blurted, “Dacian and Fynn went to the dragon realm.”

  “Fucking wonderful,” Bleu snarled and decided not to pray to the gods, because they certainly weren’t listening and he wasn’t even sure their counsel would be enough to stop him from spilling blood today.

  He snapped his fingers.

  The air shifted around him and Fynn was suddenly between Dacian and Leif. All three of them pressed their right hands to their armoured chests, directed their eyes straight forwards, and stood tall with their feet together.

  It seemed he still had some authority.

  “I would love an explanation.” He looked around, spotted a stone bench near the side wall of the central building, and reached his hand out to it and focused on it. Using telekinesis on large heavy objects was taxing at the best of times, when an elf had a clear mind, so he wasn’t surprised when it accidentally smacked Dacian in his right arm, knocking the male forward and tearing a pained grunt from his lips.

  In Dacian’s defence, he did regain his salute and perfect pose before the bench had even reached Bleu.

  A warrior born and bred.

  Bleu set the bench down in front of him, stepped over it and seated himself.

  He eyed all three males. “I am waiting.”

  “When you failed to return as agreed, we thought it pertinent to assess the situation in the dragon realm as a team, venturing to a few of the villages that border the Third Realm to reconnoitre them from a safe distance.” Dacian’s deep voice was smooth and even, and Bleu raised an eyebrow.

  He was nervous, fearful that Bleu would send him back to the castle.

  It was always a dead giveaway when he scrounged together the fanciest words he knew in an attempt to sound more authoritative.

  In a normal situation, Dacian would have said something more like ‘You didn’t come back and we were bored, so we went ahead and scouted the villages while we waited for your scrawny arse to return. You have a problem with that?’

  Bleu appreciated that he had failed to return as agreed, but he didn’t appreciate that his team had been so quick to disobey his orders.

  The sparkle in Fynn’s violet eyes was beginning to make him look as if he might explode if he didn’t speak soon so Bleu turned his focus to the male.

  Fynn rushed out, “One of the dragon clans were in an uproar when we tried to go there.”

  Nothing unusual about that since dragons often fought amongst themselves. The glimmer that remained in Fynn’s eyes said that this particular uproar had been something other than the standard in-clan squabbling though, and that Fynn wanted him to ask before he would tell him whatever news had excited him.

  “Go on.” Bleu waved his left hand in the air, too tired to join in as required by the younger elf.

  Fynn’s expression lost some of its enthusiasm but enough remained that Bleu had to wonder where he got his energy. He couldn’t remember ever being that filled with energy as a young male.

  Maybe he had been before the war with Vail had erupted and changed him.

  Fynn had never had to watch close to a thousand fellow soldiers being slain by their own commander.

  Bleu schooled his features as he slowly snuffed out of existence every feeling that welled up on thinking about that day, not allowing any of his men to see the pain it still caused him. He was their commander now. The commander of the entire elf army. He owed it to them and every other soldier to stand strong and lead them to the best of his abilities.

  Even when they were a challenge and disobeyed him, testing his patience.

  “Of all things… there was an angel present,” Fynn said with a wide smile. “An angel!”

  That made Bleu’s blood run cold.

  An angel in Hell?

  Sable had been hiding out in the Third Realm ever since an Echelon angel had made his presence known to her, demanding she come with him to Heaven. She had been convinced that she would be safe in Hell, and she should have been. Angels never entered this realm. It pained them to do so, weakened them and left them vulnerable.

  But one was causing havoc in the dragon realm.

  He didn’t like it one bit and he wanted to investigate it, but he didn’t have time. He would get word to Sable somehow, and maybe he could look into what the angel was doing.

  “Since you and Dacian enjoy visiting the dragon realm so much, you will head back there.” Bleu rose to his feet and all three males stiffened, their right hands pressing harder against their chests. At least they were beginning to behave in a more acceptable manner again. “I want you to scout the village we met the dragon in when she kindly left her mark on me. I have the feeling that it hadn’t been chance that she had been there. It might be her clan… and that means you need to be on guard. Do not stray from each other. Understood?”

  Fynn’s left fingers twitched as if he wanted to stroke his blades and Bleu shot him a look that commanded him to speak.

  “But the village… we thought the same thing. We went to scout it and that’s where the angel was.”

  Interesting. He was even more curious about the angel now, and this was his golden opportunity to uncover what the creature was doing in Hell.

  “All the better. You will question the clan members about both the female dragon and the angel. I have the feeling you’ll be able to get some information out of the clan this time.” He turned away from the trio and paced a short distance across the courtyard before turning back, using the automatic motion to clear his head. “They will believe she had something to do with bringing the ang
el to them and I’m sure if you press hard enough, they will talk. It isn’t every day you see a violet and white dragon after all. Someone there must know her and they’ll speak if you link the angel to her. If that fails, they will no doubt speak for the right price.”

  Leif arched an eyebrow at that and Bleu ignored him. Nobles were tetchy about the wealth of the kingdom. A few jewels out of the realm’s coffers for those dragons who offered solid information was hardly going to bankrupt the kingdom, and if that information led to the capture of the dragon and the return of the sword, it would be worth the cost a thousand times over. That sword meant everything to Loren, and Vail, and in the wrong hands it was a death knell waiting to ring across all the lands of Hell.

  “What are my orders?” Leif said, his tone holding a cold edge, one that Bleu was used to because he was sure he sounded the same when he was mulling over a mission, itching to get going.

  “You will come with me.” Bleu stopped in front of him and looked straight into his purple eyes. “I have a lead we will check out.”

  A very big lead.

  A very big blue lead that would probably eat him if he went alone.

  He held his hand out to Leif and looked in the direction of the dragon realm as he pictured the location Iolanthe had teleported him to just hours ago. He had considered going in alone, or with her at his side as his backup, but flying solo probably would have gotten him killed and he wouldn’t risk Iolanthe, sure that the dragon would be upset when he showed up and started questioning him after Loren had promised to leave him alone.

  Plus, he had already been late returning to his men and he really hadn’t wanted to have to endure a marathon session of Leif giving him the gimlet glare whenever they were together. The male held grudges, especially where missions were concerned and when he felt he was being excluded. Leif’s temperament had snagged him a spot on interrogation duty with him, and not only to spare Bleu his wrath.

  The male had influence among the others. They looked up to him. He was also the biggest threat to the female, the one most likely to demand they obey the kill order that Loren had issued.

 

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