Revealed in Fire by K.F. Breene

Twenty-Three

Lucifer stareddown at the blueprint for the new resting area without really seeing it, his mind churning. There had been a lot of turmoil in the Dark Kingdom of late.

Time rippled out behind him, a river of it, and over the many, many centuries, there had been natural rises and falls in activity as various factions or individuals fought for placement or peace, but this was different.

The traders across the river had suddenly become much more sophisticated. Squabbles for goods or power had turned into organized plays for strength and power in the Edges. The quality of trade had risen, and in turn, the riches had quadrupled. Because of that, those in the kingdom looked outward with interest, making more frequent trips, staying longer, and returning with a heightened sense of ambition and purpose. His people were fighting for larger territories, requesting larger sporting battlegrounds and leisure sex huts, and seeking more robust entertainment…

Something had stirred them.

He tapped his charcoal stick against the parchment, leaving dots of black along the edges.

Magic had worked its way into the kingdom as well. Hardwearing, complex, powerful magic, the likes of which Lucifer had rarely seen. It was being brought in through the Realm, but sources said it was created in the Brink and transported through a series of intricate steps that had completely slipped the elves’ notice. Rumor had it that a mastermind elder vampire was behind the scheme.

Lucifer dropped his charcoal and stood, strolling across his workroom, watching the play of light against the marble floors. He stopped at a large window that overlooked the garden dedicated to his most recent love, a woman who could bloom flowers with her laugh and wilt men with her glare.

Instead of lingering on her memory, a pleasant distraction, he lifted his gaze to the sky, summoning images of the various areas in his kingdom—a magical form of surveillance he’d instituted after getting the idea from the Brink. The Brink had such remarkable ways of tracking and spying on its subjects. It had been incredibly useful. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before. Even now, after an endless life, he could still learn from others and benefit from their efforts.

This mastermind…

There were two elder vampires at work in his outer kingdom, he knew. One had been weaving threads together for some time—decades. Only a few stray threads at first, but he’d woven them together over time, creating tapestries. Vlad, his name was. A well-known vampire who was also well positioned within both the Realm and the Brink. He had amassed quite a lot of power and had more than a few eager ears listening to his ideas about revolts. His dabbling in the Underworld could not go ignored, however. When Lucifer had finally agreed to an audience with the vampire, he hadn’t known what his next move would be: issue a strong warning, or just kill the vampire and be done with it.

Amazingly, neither had happened. The vampire was incredibly clever, with a well-established network Lucifer could use. He would be difficult to govern but worth the effort.

The other vampire, though…

Darius Durant, if rumors could be believed. Vlad’s child.

Lucifer glanced up, summoning images of the toughest dwelling area in the Edges, a place where death haunted its citizens, and a single misstep would cost someone their life. The second vampire had set up shop there, forming alliances with some of the toughest residents in the Edges.

This other vampire worked altogether differently than Vlad. He hadn’t attempted to bring any sort of sophistication to the Edges, nor had he tried to change the culture in any way. Because of it, his business thrived. More than thrived—it had spilled over into the areas surrounding it, including those already infiltrated by Vlad, and spread into the very heart of the Dark Kingdom. The vampire knew his market, so to speak.

He knew the Dark Kingdom.

He’d set up trading stalls catering to Lucifer’s subjects. He’d even found someone who could thread Incendium and Glaciem magic into the spells.

An image crystalized in Lucifer’s mind. A blond woman in black leather pants and heavy boots, a sort of pouch around her waist. Lucifer hadn’t been able to make out her face, but he would forever remember that bearing. Strong and straight and utterly fearless, even in the middle of a battle. She’d looked his way in challenge.

And that vampire had been beside her.

Darius Durant.

Lucifer threaded his hands into his pants pockets and turned from the window.

He’d only recently found out the woman’s name: Reagan of the Brink.

She had no records. No friends he could discern. No listed home, no birth certificate, none of the records attached to normal Brink citizens. It was as though she did not exist.

The woman the custodes had recently found had all of those things and more. Every inch of her life could be accounted for, from her mother’s death to her move to Santa Cruz for school and eventual assimilation with the shifters. She’d destroyed Lucifer’s subjects in the Realm, so he’d thought for a time that she might be the one he’d seen. But he’d sent his subjects to check it out. They hadn’t sensed any Underworld magic from her, and her party hadn’t noticed the amare interiorem perched on the roof above them, watching it all unfold.

She was not the one. But she had helped flush out the one.

After an extended absence, an absence not even Vlad could penetrate, Darius Durant had resurfaced. And with him…her.

Her. The woman who was possibly Lucifer’s heir.

The door clicked open, and Lucifer turned as Victoria entered in human form, her legs a little too long but overall well shaped, and the rest of her proportioned perfectly. She maintained that humans liked longer legs on women for some reason and had not been dissuaded from the choice.

“Sir,” she said, sounding harried. “I received reports from our spies in the Realm. Reagan Somerset is being held by the elves. She arrived three days ago with a band of custodes, four mages, and a pack of shifters led by Roger Nevin, the wolf. They detained the custodes and chased out the shifters in an effort to acquire Reagan Somerset. Their plan worked almost to their liking, as far as I have heard. They did acquire Reagan Somerset, though whatever they’d hoped to achieve with the shifters and custodes did not pan out. The two factions successfully left the castle. Most of the custodes and shifters successfully escaped to the Brink. The elves are sending people after them, though we aren’t sure what they plan to do. They don’t have enough forces to cross into the Brink and disband the traitors, as the custodes and the shifters are being called.”

“The elves are trying to save face. The custodes have always been well loved. Their absence has only created a deeper fondness. This will create turmoil for a kingdom already harvesting unrest.”

Lucifer thought back to all that Vlad had said. His plans for striking at the heart of the elves. His assurances of success. His confidence in the players at his disposal. He only needed the might of the Underworld to see his plans unfold, he’d claimed. With Lucifer’s help, their victory was assured.

Had Vlad suspected these events would transpire? His hints seemed to indicate it was so.

“And the woman?” Lucifer asked, calmly collecting his thoughts so as not to react hastily. His actions now would create lasting ripples. One misstep and he could be pushed further down the ranks in the magical world. But if he pushed an advantage, perhaps he could right old wrongs.

“Without a doubt, the rumors are true. She has both Incendium and Glaciem magics, has merged them, and uses them both. The working of her magic is rudimentary at best, but her power level is that of a mid-level five with room to grow.”

“With room to grow?”

“She is but mid-twenties in human years. She has many long years to fruit.”

Lucifer stared hard at Victoria.

She nodded. “She could reach a level six. And more, she looks quite a bit like her mother.”

“Her mother?”

“Yes.” Victoria didn’t look away as she pointed at the window overlooking the garden. “The inspiration for the statue down there. There can be no doubt she is yours.”

Lucifer said nothing for many long moments, taking in that information. He’d always hoped for another heir. A child who could survive this world. An heir the Underworld could be proud of, and who would take his place when he desired to visit the Brink. Someone to help him work his creations.

“She has been in the inner kingdom,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. He’d had many heirs in his never-ending life. He’d lost them all. No father should have to magically freeze their child for all of time in the pits of fire. A child was supposed to do that for the parent. If only he could keep one. Just one. “She can at least survive here for a time.”

“The vampire Vlad has been in touch. He has apparently done some digging.” Victoria narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t too keen on that vampire. It was wise of her not to trust him. “Reagan Somerset’s mother—”

“Amorette.”

“Yes. She is said to have had godly power.”

“Godly power?”

“A human notion. We know it as the touch of angels.”

Lucifer hissed. Angels were nothing but meddling, troublesome creatures that could stay holed up in their “paradise” for all he cared. They kept their so-called gifts to themselves, for the most part, which was the best idea they’d ever had. His kingdom had been plagued with much less riffraff because of it.

He thought back to his powerful attraction to Amorette. It hadn’t been logical, his need for her. His ardent desire. One look at her beautiful face, and he’d been caught. He hadn’t been able to get enough, always begging for one more smile, one more touch.

“She beguiled me with an angel’s kiss?” he asked, trying to conceal his reaction to that thought.

“No. It was in her heritage. In her blood. It would not have a direct effect on a dark ange—”

His look cut her off. She’d nearly forgotten herself. He would not suffer his person to be spoken of in the same sentence as those fools, regardless of his origins.

“The blood will act as a crutch to keep her human elements from deteriorating,” Victoria went on. “We already know she does not need oxygen, assuming she was the woman you glimpsed, and I feel we must. There could be no other. Now we can assume that many long years here will not break her down as it did with the others. Something the elves do not yet know.”

“And why is that?”

“The vampires clearly know it, but they and the elves have been at odds for centuries.”

“Yes, of course.”

“And two, the elves’ questions are going unanswered.”

“Their questions…” He’d heard what the Realm had devolved into. What the elves had devolved into. He’d seen it himself on his visits. Despite his power and might, they always treated him as lesser. Mocked him. “They are torturing her?”

“Yes.”

“They suspect she is my daughter?”

“Yes. That is the only reason she lives.”

“And yet they are still torturing her?”

“Yes, sir. So far—and this news is half a day old due to travel time—she has not broken.”

Memories crowded him. Of a glowing, dewy-faced Amorette, so serene and content even after losing her breakfast every morning for a month. It hadn’t bothered her, the human sickness, and she’d looked so radiant in those final days he was with her, so earthy and peaceful, resplendent, that he hadn’t pressed. She was everything the Brink could boast for beauty. It had given him countless ideas for new creations.

He’d assumed she was ill, that she would succumb to human fragility, the way his children had. When she’d demanded he leave, he hadn’t pressed. He hadn’t wanted to see her downfall.

She’d been pregnant.

The possibility should have occurred to him, but most magical beings didn’t get with child so quickly. So easily.

“It has been a while since we last stormed a castle, has it not?” he asked Victoria, his thoughts turning to action.

“Yes, sir. Far too long for my taste.”

“I agree. Ready the forces. There is not a moment to lose.” He strode for the door. “We will retrieve my daughter. And call the vampire Vlad. This calls for a war, I think. The elves can expect no less, after this.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And let my subjects off their leashes. They may tread wherever they will. No more restrictions.”

“And the fog, sir?”

He paused at the door. “Keep the fog. I do not want my enemies knowing what sort of forces I’ve been preparing these many long years.”

“Everyone likes surprises, I hear.”

He tilted his head. “I guarantee they won’t like this one.”