Immortal Coil (41 page)

The bonds around
Anaea
eased, but the cage shrank even more, squeezing her into a mental fetal position.

That Jester’s body was supposed to have been the one. Perfect.
A great power.
But he’d misread the signs. And
Zenobia
had done nothing to save him. She’d let him rot while she flirted with Regis, flaunting her freedom and forcing him to watch. Now the bitch was using his plan to stage her coup. It was his coup!

Energy crackled through her.

The Mother of All had taken pity.
Finally.
She’d sent him this sweet, powerful body and given him one last perfect moment of control. Crazy or not,
Constantine
would pay. Regis would pay. The bitch
Zenobia
would suffer... then pay. They all would.
Tit for tat.
And when he was done, he’d enjoy his new tits. It had been far too long.

* * *

Hunter strode through the gate, sword ready, into his living room. Empty. Thank goodness. Even though the risk had been fairly minimal, stepping into
his own
suite could have been dangerous. Anyone could have potentially been lying in wait, but getting to his cache of weapons was a priority.

Grey stumbled through behind him, hugging his gut and gasping for air. “You owe me.”

Yes he did and he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to pay off the debt. “When this body connects to the earth’s magic I’ll open any gate you want.”

Grey sagged onto Hunter’s couch. “If that body connects to the earth’s magic.”

With a shrug, Hunter marched into his bedroom. He’d deal with that later, once
Anaea
was safe.

He strapped a long sword and matching dagger to his hip. They felt a little mismatched to his new body, but he’d get used to it soon enough. He had to. More knives went into ankle sheaths and wrist sheaths and one at his back. Then he shrugged into a double-gun holster and checked his 9mm semi-automatics. They weren’t sanctioned weapons and they wouldn’t kill a dragon, but they could slow one down—a lot if the dragon was a slow healer. And Hunter wasn’t going to take any chances if he had to fight his way out. Besides, they would certainly kill a human mage.

He put on his calf-length leather coat, which, indeed, was too broad in the shoulders but the correct length—the Handmaiden had been right—and returned to his living room.

Grey shoved off the couch with a groan. “Ready?”

“I am. You’re staying here.” The last thing he needed was to worry about Grey. He’d stopped bleeding and the gash on his forehead had sealed up, but the hole in his gut still wept and he looked pale.

“What, and miss all the fun?”

“You’ll be more of a hindrance than a help. Besides, Regis is more likely to let me slip
Anaea
away from Court if there aren’t any witnesses.”

“That’s if he’ll let you take her at all.”

A growl bubbled within Hunter. “That’s not an option I’m willing to entertain.”

Grey raised an eyebrow. Hunter could see understanding working across Grey’s expression. There weren’t many things that would make a dragon so determined but an inamorata was one of them.

Hunter squared his shoulders. He would turn his back on his people, even Grey if necessary, for
Anaea
. Every cell in his body thrummed for her.

“Hunter.” Grey’s expression hardened.

The muscles in his neck twitched. There wasn’t anything more to discuss. “What?”

“Call me when she’s safe.”

The knot in his gut eased. “I thought your phone was compromised.”

“You know what I mean, you stupid drake. Now get your ass out of here.”

With a curt nod to his friend, Hunter slipped into the hall, senses straining for the slightest indication of trouble. The halls of the
Dragon Court
were empty, which made sense, now that he thought about it. Anyone in Court would be at the final feast of the
pahar
. Still, the quiet made the hairs on the back of his still-unfamiliar neck stand on end. Maybe
Zenobia
had started her coup and Nero was in the process of stopping her. But it didn’t matter. A fight was coming, regardless. Although he supposed it had been a long time in coming. It was surprising he’d been subservient for as long as he had.

Anaea’s
presence was still muffled within him. He strained to reach her but couldn’t, and had no idea how she was being contained. Maybe Jade was more of a true sorcerer than she’d let on. Surely the Handmaiden hadn’t gotten involved.

The guards outside
Regis’s
suite were missing. So was the gaggle of sycophants waiting to fawn over him on his way to the feast
hall.
Hunter could see Regis dismissing the courtiers to deal with
Anaea
, but not his guards.

Maybe he’d already killed
Anaea
and gone to the feast.

That thought sent Hunter’s heart racing.

No. Regis would want to hold onto
Anaea
, confront Hunter with the evidence of his guilt, if only to watch Hunter squirm.

But the other possible reasons for absent guards didn’t sit any easier with him. It was most likely that Regis was inside, and so was trouble. And Hunter really hated walking into a bad situation blind. He hadn’t stayed the Prince’s Assassin for as long as he had through being reckless. Without any other options, however, he had little choice.

He grabbed the door handle. No magic tingled over his skin and the latch opened. The lock wasn’t set. He rested a hand on the hilt of his long sword and eased the door open.

Lightning slammed into him, hurling him into the wall at the end of the corridor. Black specks swarmed across his vision and he gasped against the pressure in his chest.

A figure sauntered toward him.

Anaea
.

He blinked, trying to clear his sight. An orange light clung to her, overshadowing a brilliant white aura.

She knelt beside him and
tsked
.

The pressure in his chest increased, making the specks in his vision whirl faster.

“About time you showed up.” She yanked the medallion from his neck with a manic, nails-on-chalkboard giggle.

* * *

Grey flipped open his phone and dialed
Capri
’s number. Please pick up this time. As much as Hunter had told Grey to hole up in his suite, the shit was going to hit the fan and Hunter needed help. Getting
Anaea
out of Court was only one part of the problem. The men in the hotel had magic, at least two with super-human strength and one with extraordinary speed, but they hadn’t healed, which meant they had to be human mages. And that meant something big was coming after Hunter and he might not escape Court in time.

He groaned as the pieces of the puzzle the Handmaiden had given him fell together. She had to have seen the future. The spell was difficult and while her visions weren’t as accurate as an augur’s, she could do it. Whatever was going to happen, she must have seen it and left him the tools necessary to salvage the situation, trusting he’d figure it out when the time was right.

What he didn’t know was why she hadn’t stuck around to help or stopped it. But perhaps dragon-kind needed to learn a lesson. He wouldn’t put that past her.

“Yeah?”
Capri
said.

“What is it with drakes and phone etiquette?”

“Grey?”

Grey coughed, spiking pain through his chest. “Hunter needs your help.”

“You don’t sound good.”

That sounded like actual concern. If he wasn’t in so much pain and so worried about Hunter and
Anaea
, he’d be thrilled. “Meet me at Gig’s and bring a sword.”
Capri
lived somewhere in the human world and Grey wasn’t inclined to find out where. Gig, however, had a suite in Court and Grey knew where that was.

“Done,” she said without hesitation.

The line went dead. Grey smashed the phone against the wall and drained the rest of his earth magic to cast another unanchored gate into the hall outside Gig’s suite. His breath burned in his chest and the hole in his gut still wept blood. Damn, he hated getting impaled. It made concentrating on magic and everything challenging. But at least he was healing.

He snorted. He’d been to the human world twice in as many days and he was still alive.
Barely.
But barely wasn’t dead. Bully for him.

Gig opened the door as
Capri
rushed down the hall toward them. She had to have gated right after the call and run all the way here from the receiving hall, since she wasn’t strong enough to use a gate without an anchor like Grey could.

“Shit, Grey. What happened?”
Capri
asked.

“Would you believe Hunter has fallen in love?”

“And he beat you up for that?” Gig motioned for Grey to enter the suite, but Grey shook his head.

“He would for his inamorata,”
Capri
said.

She could figure things out so fast. Why couldn’t she be interested in him? “Yes to the inamorata.” Grey wheezed in another breath.
“No to the beating me up.
Grab a sword. Hunter needs someone at his back.”

Gig rushed inside, but
Capri
narrowed her eyes.

“I’ll explain on the way.”

She
nodded,
her expression still grim. “You’re a good friend, Grey.”

He squirmed under the truth of that. “I’m an even better lover.”

She flashed him a hint of teeth. “So I hear.”

Xanthic
drew even more energy. Brilliant light surrounded
Anaea
and Hunter,
then
vanished. She, Hunter, and Regis stood in the center of chaos. The front of the feast hall writhed with battle. Dragons roared and screamed, swung blades, and shot lightning and stone and ice. Blood and sweat and other things
Anaea
didn’t want to think about slicked the floor. She couldn’t tell who was on what side, or who was winning, but there looked to be a good number of the trench-coat wearing assailants in the mix. Hunter staggered to his feet and relief flooded her. Thank God the lightning hadn’t killed him.

“What is going on? I demand an explanation,” Regis said, his gaze jumping from Hunter to
Anaea
and back again.

“You demand?”
Xanthic
snorted. “It’s obvious. Someone is stealing my coup!
And doing a terrible job at it.
But that’s what happens when Nero finds out about one’s plans.” He gated onto the table on the dais and raised his hands. Power surged through her. It raced over her body and poured from
Xanthic’s
palms, exploding in a thunder clap that crashed through the hall. Everyone
froze,
the sudden silence deafening.

“That’s better. Now, where were we?
Right, my coup.”

“What in the name of the Mother is going on?” Regis
screamed,
his voice shrill in the quiet.

“The idiot doesn’t realize who’s in charge now.”

“Hunter?” Regis asked.

“I’ll take care of this,” Hunter growled.

Xanthic
snickered and clapped his hands. “The mighty Hunter will take care of this. This should be good.”

Energy gathered within
Xanthic
.
Anaea
squirmed in her cage.

“Get out,” Hunter said to Regis. “I’ll explain later.”

“No.” Regis crossed his arms, looking every bit the petulant child. “You’ll explain now.”

Hunter’s presence within her billowed with frustration for just a heartbeat then was shut off.

“Come on, Hunter. Explain now.
In front of everyone.”
Xanthic
hopped off the table onto the front of the dais. “Explain how you body-shared this sweet little human.”

Mumbles echoed through the hall and Regis glared at Hunter.
“You what?”

Hunter reached into his coat and growled again.

“But you were too stupid to see what you had,”
Xanthic
said in a singsong.

The energy within her continued to grow.

“No, you hopped out as fast as you could.
Too dumb to know a true sorcerer even when you’re in one.”

Xanthic
raised a hand and wind whipped through the feast hall. Dragons yelled and rushed for the doors or drew energy to make gates.

“No gating. No leaving.” The doors slammed shut and shimmering cages enveloped the drakes. “You all need to bear witness. There will be a new Royal Coterie.”
Xanthic
glared at the group. “That would be me.
But first, a little business to take care of.”

He drew more energy and
Anaea’s
cage wavered for just a moment. A gate whooshed open and
Zenobia
stood before him, beautiful and perfect, dressed in black with pieces of armor similar to what
Anaea
wore during the
wasu
tahazu
.