A Time of Reckoning Read online

  A Time of Reckoning

  The Golden Key Legacy

  AJ NUEST

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  First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2015

  Copyright © AJ Nuest 2015

  Cover images © Shutterstock.com

  Cover layout design © HarperColl‌insPublishers Ltd 2015

  Cover design by HarperColl‌insPublishers Ltd

  AJ Nuest asserts the moral right

  to be identified as the author of this work.

  A catalogue record for this book is

  available from the British Library

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction.

  The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are

  the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to

  actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is

  entirely coincidental.

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  and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

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  Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.

  Ebook Edition © February 2015 ISBN: 9780008123147

  Version 2015-02-16

  Dedicated to all readers of fantasy romance who, like me, believe in happily ever after.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Also by AJ Nuest…

  AJ Nuest

  About HarperImpulse

  About the Publisher

  Chapter 1

  “From there, we shall scour the cliff side, until the entrance to Gaelleod’s tomb is revealed.” Fandorn smiled, the wrinkled skin near his eyes cracking more than the dry dirt inside the castle courtyard.

  Oh, no. Rhys slumped. Aw, hell no. Leaning side to side, he searched the bustling bodies for Faedrah, and found her standing a few feet before the portcullis, her head lowered in private conversation with Vaighn.

  One guess was all Rhys needed to figure out who’d come up with this bright plan.

  As if his stare had somehow psychically tapped her on the shoulder, she glanced toward him and her head snapped up. Her eyes widened then she frowned.

  That’s right, lady. There was no fucking way.

  “Excuse me, my boy.” Fandorn nodded toward the gatehouse and the loud discussion growing louder by the second between Denmar and Faedrah’s dad. “If I am interpreting the tones of that conversation correctly, my assistance is required by our king.”

  Rhys jerked his chin at Fandorn as the old geezer wandered off. Seemed this excursion they were about to take had tensions running a little hot all around. But, god dammit. Just about the time he believed he’d finally gotten a handle on this place, someone up and changed the rules.

  The earth rocked under his boots, and he gritted his teeth against the bone-jarring impact as another Dregg rammed to the ground like a high-speed locomotive. The moldy air gusting off its wings nearly shoved him forward a step. A few blonde strands pulled free from Faedrah’s braid, whispering across her lips and dancing around her head like a golden halo, and Rhys clenched his fingers against the urge to cross the distance and tuck those silky tendrils behind her ear.

  Sure, she was sexy as hell—one lick of her mouth and his blood was on fire, one wriggle of her tight little body under his hands and his cock grew a mind of its own—but if the woman expected him to willingly volunteer for human pay load duty, she’d lost her damn mind.

  The Dregg lumbered past Rhys’ shoulder, apparently bent on joining the rest of the fan club crowded around Faedrah’s mom, then paused and lifted its face to sniff the air. A skinny forked tongue snaked out and slathered a layer of slime over the quivering slits that doubled as its nostrils. Eyes as dead and empty as a great white shark’s locked onto Rhys as the hulking creature swiveled its head.

  He braced for the incoming assault, every muscle in his body tense, but still winced as the Dregg released a series of chittering shrieks that pierced his skull like fingernails scraping down a chalkboard.

  Jesus Christ. Enough already. Squeezing his eyes tight, Rhys scrubbed his lids with his thumb and index finger before pinching the bridge of his nose. As if this exact same reaction from every other Dregg he’d had the pleasure of meeting hadn’t already delivered the message loud and clear. Evidently, the god damn legacy his father had left him manifested in a particular scent. One whiff and the Dreggs picked up on his connection to Gaelleod, hackles raised and fangs bared like a police dog sniffing out some border-crossing contraband.

  Fine. That made two of them. Dropping his hand, Rhys leaned forward and curled his top lip to return the creature’s twisted sneer. “Yeah? Well, I’m not real fond of you, either.”

  “Grommel!” Faedrah stormed across the courtyard in their direction, hands fisted at her sides. “Cease this instant!”

  Grommel? This thing’s name was…Grommel? Rhys huffed. How the hell could she tell? To him, they all looked—and stank—the same.

  The hairy behemoth broke off its caterwauling, backtracked a step or two and ruffled its leathery wings before lurching toward the rest of the crew. The musty stench of bog water it left in its wake soured the lunch in Rhys’ stomach, and he smacked his lips in disgust.

  Vaighn swung around to follow behind his sister, ambling toward Rhys at a leisurely stroll, shaking his head and lips compressed as if holding back a smile.

  Oh, really? Rhys crossed his arms. Far as he could see, not one god-damn thing about this situation was funny.

  The prince stopped beside Faedrah, hand resting on the pommel of his sword, posture slouched as if the dude didn’t have a care in the world. “I take it my sister’s plan to infiltrate Seviere’s Kingdom undetected has left you quite unsettled.”

  Oh no, not at all. Being dangled over the cliffs by a sentient parachute who just so happened to hate his guts sounded like the best idea ever. Rhys darted a sharp glance at the one woman who could ever get him to agree to something so stupid. “That’s putting it mildly.”

  “I would be happy to entertain any other suggestions you may have to expedite our speedy conveyance to the entrance of Gaelleod’s tomb.” Flipping an open palm toward the beasts clustered around her mother, Faedrah raised her brows as if they were a bunch of cuddly teddy bears instead of a super-sized mutation between a bat and those fucking flying monkeys from The Wizard of Oz. “Nonetheless, the Dreggs have already agreed to our plan. With their aid, an arrival from the seaward side of the cliffs seems the most prudent course.”

  Sure, sure. Or they could just save everyone the trouble and go careening to their deaths like a bunch of lemmings right now. Rhys shifted a glower be
tween Faedrah and her brother. “I don’t like it. What’s our guarantee they won’t accidently drop one of us?” Like him, for starters.

  “You are welcome to follow on horseback, if you prefer.” Vaighn shrugged. “Though such a delay will most certainly ensure you fail to partake in all the fun.” Shoulders jerking to attention, he slapped a hand to his leather chest plate like he’d just had the mother of all ball-busting revelations. “Unless, perchance, our four-legged creatures alarm you as much as a Dregg?”

  Faedrah smacked her brother’s arm, but that didn’t stop the two of them from sharing a chuckle at Rhys’ expense.

  He squinted, bobbling his head. Yeah, yeah, fucking hilarious. “If you ever get to my world, remind me to take you for a ride on my motorcycle, your highness.” They’d see then who had the last laugh.

  “You worry unnecessarily, my heart. I’ve ridden with the Dreggs countless times.” Running a warm hand down each of his biceps, Faedrah tugged his elbows apart and stepped close, settling her arms around his waist. “Their leader, Reddeck, has sworn his clan’s allegiance to the White Queen. For any Dregg to disavow her wishes would be tantamount to sacrilege.” Rising on her toes, she pecked his lips. “You must trust me in this. Our entourage will reach its destination unharmed.”

  “If you say so.” He curled his fingers around the thick braid trailing down her back and tugged. Still, a little added insurance never hurt, and while she’d been off scheduling this chance to go skydiving with a clan of boogey men, Rhys had been using the time to sort through a pile of discarded weapons in the armory, hoping to finalize his own strategy in sticking an ace or two up everyone’s sleeve.

  “Here.” He released her and backed away a step, flipping open the black leather pouch he’d threaded onto his belt. Metal clinked and silver chains snaked between his fingers as he scooped the contents into his palm. “A little something for everyone in the group.” Four of the necklaces he handed to Faedrah—one each for her mom and dad, Denmar and Fandorn—though the wizard’s was more a souvenir than anything else. Fandorn didn’t need a lucky rabbit’s foot any more than Rhys did.

  Unless, of course, Gaelleod woke up barrel’s blazing before they’d successfully murdered him in his sleep. Then it was pretty much guaranteed they were all up shit creek without a paddle.

  The fifth, he tossed in the general direction of Vaighn.

  The prince snagged the chain in mid-air and held the medallion in front of his eyes, dim light from the gray cloud cover winking off the surface as it spun back and forth.

  “Jewelry?” He grimaced, refocused on Rhys and blinked once. “Really, you shouldn’t have.”

  Oh, for Christ’s sake. The dude acted like Rhys had just dropped to one knee and proposed.

  “Vaighn,” Faedrah scolded. “I most vehemently suggest you reconsider.”

  “It’s my signature, dumbass.” Rhys nodded toward the swaying pendant. “A protective symbol that might just save your ass, considering there’s a good chance we’re about to interrupt Gaelloed’s beauty sleep.” Shrugging, he tipped his head. “Odds are, this little surprise party Faedrah’s got planned is really gonna piss him off, but if you don’t want it then, hey, no skin off my nose.” He reached for the necklace, the corner of his mouth twitching as Vaighn jerked it out of range.

  “On further contemplation, perchance my sister offers an alternate perspective.” The sigil bounced against Vaighn’s chest plate as he dropped the chain around his neck. “ʼTis the height of rudeness to refuse a gift so graciously given, despite the repulsiveness of its creator or the hideous nature of its design.” He bowed slightly at the waist. “I believe the stakes between us have been leveled, Wizard.”

  Rhys grunted, his gaze following as Vaighn sauntered off to supposedly check in with Fandorn, Denmar and the king. But his bogus indifference fell flat. Especially once the king pointed at the medallion and Vaighn smiled, nodding in Rhys’ direction.

  “Wait.” He frowned. “Did that asshole just call me repulsive?”

  Faedrah chuckled. “Flattering praise, indeed, from the highest ranking member of the royal guard.”

  Ah. So that’s how this game was played. “Yeah, well, your brother’s one ugly son of a bitch, himself.”

  Her musical laughter was drowned out by an ear-piercing shriek and Rhys winced, instinctively scooping her back into his arms. God dammit, being surrounded by this many Dreggs was like standing inside an ambulance bay, all the sirens blaring at the same time.

  Grommel broke from the group and the Earth vibrated under Rhys’ boots as the Dregg hailed a series of punches along the ground like a rampaging gorilla.

  Fucking great. This was their ride? Or maybe… Rhys’ shoulders dropped a solid inch. “Let me guess. They drew straws, and Grommel just found out he got stuck with me.”

  The Dregg leader lurched forward and rammed a hand against Grommel’s chest. The two scuffled, raising a haze of dirt that blended with the same dull gray as the sky.

  “’Twould seem so.” Faedrah sighed, sliding her hands along his chest to behind his neck, and Rhys linked his hands in the small of her back as her nails scraped and tingled his scalp. “I’m sorry, my heart.” The sadness in her eyes turned them the richest, most beautiful shade of chocolate brown. “Had I known the Dreggs’ would find your presence displeasing, I swear—”

  He dropped his lips to hers, swept a kiss along the sweet slope of her mouth and dove in for more. No. None of this was her fault. And he’d be good god-damned before he stood here like a dick and let her carry the guilt over something that had always been outside her control.

  He’d catch whatever she tossed his way. That’s what he’d told her. And if jumping through mirrors or, hell, becoming a Dregg’s personal special-order delivery is what she wanted, then it was time he strap on a pair and live up to his promise.

  The tip of her tongue met his in a seductive flick. Her breathy chuckle washed over him like a warm invitation and his blood pumped straight into his groin. Her arms tightened around his shoulders. He slid one hand down to cup her leather-slicked ass as the full curves of her breasts met his chest.

  Jesus Christ, the woman drove him insane. They fit together like a hand in a glove.

  He thrust his fingers under the tight weave of her braid; angled her head to deepen their kiss. Her back bowed. She moaned against his lips as their hips bumped, her soft belly cradling the ridge of his cock.

  Fuck, as soon as they got back…if they came back…he was locking them inside her bedroom and insisting they follow up on those two days of uninterrupted sex.

  Someone cleared their throat—Vaighn, judging by the lower register. Yeah, yeah, no public displays of affection and all that shit. Faedrah pulled back, but Rhys shoved her forward, forcing his thigh between her legs.

  No one from the court was around and, besides, he didn’t give two shits what everyone thought of the two of them locking lips. God only knew what might happen once they entered Gaelleod’s tomb. This could be their last moment together, and if Faedrah’s brother didn’t like it, he could take a fucking hike.

  She swayed against him, a sexy whimper catching in her throat, and he dug his fingers deeper into her sweet, round ass. That’s it, baby. I got ya.

  A second, louder, clearing of the throat, and Faedrah pushed against Rhys’ shoulders, breaking free of his arms.

  God! What the fuck? They couldn’t have a few measly minutes? He ground his teeth and turned, ready to rip a Faedrah’s brother a new asshole.

  His shoulders wrenched, and Rhys crossed his arms over the way Faedrah’s entire family stood nearby, surveying the scene with varying degrees of awkwardness. But his anger didn’t dissipate. Not as her dad leveled a fierce glare at them, and most definitely not when Vaighn rolled his eyes and the queen pressed three fingers to her lips, trying and failing to hide a smile.

  The king fisted his hands, his jaw so tight it was a wonder he didn’t crack a molar. “If you are quite finished molesting my daug
hter.”

  Rhys cocked a brow. Yeah, the two of them needed to get something straight. Like, right now. It was high time the king either shit or got off the pot.

  “I’m never gonna be finished with your daughter. Not ever. If you’re waiting for that day, I hate to tell ya, it ain’t gonna happen.” He clomped forward a step, spreading his arms to the sides. “So whatever punishment you wanna dole out or hole you wanna lock me in, have at it. Just keep in mind your decision isn’t gonna change a damn thing.” He glanced at Faedrah’s wide-eyed stare, shaking his head; aimed a finger at the ground and punctuated each sentence. “I’m here. I’m staying. I love her. You got that? Even when she gets a ridiculous idea in her head that drives me bat-shit crazy, I love her.”

  Faedrah’s jaw dropped. Not a split second later, she squinted, running that delicious tongue of hers along the edge of her teeth.

  “So there you have it.” Rhys dropped his hands in surrender. “I’m guilty of loving your daughter. Go ahead and convict. But I suggest you rethink the metal bars and chains, because there’s no way in hell I’m letting her face-off against Gaelleod alone.”

  Her dad jerked upright. A tense moment hung in the air before he darted a glance at his wife.

  “Well.” The queen’s eyebrow twitched. “That sounds oddly familiar.”

  Satisfaction settled in the center of Rhys’ gut. He just bet it did. According to the stories Faedrah had told him, once upon a time, the queen had charged straight into Seviere’s castle to steal back the key…and the king had gone with her, regardless of his opinions or the bullshit that errand entailed.

  Fandorn cleared this throat. “Of a surety, I defer to your ruling, Sire. Yet, be advised, ʼtwould be wise to have the boy with us. His knowledge and powers will provide an added benefit whilst navigating the labyrinth to Gaelleod’s tomb.”

  “Agreed.” Denmar stroked the tip of his pointed goatee, the luster of his black leather eye patch an exact match to the dull sheen of his bald head. “The lad longs to prove his fealty to the crown? What better way than to deliver the killing blow, himself?”