“No,” Abaddon said, reaching out with his own magic.
Jaral slammed to the ground, the veins in his neck turning black from whatever vicious spell his father had cast.
“Side with mortals?” Abaddon hissed. “Then you can die with them.”
“Not going to happen.” Jaral inched closer. The black lines had crept up the side of his face and down his arms.
Abaddon’s eyes flickered to her. “A mate only makes you weak.”
“No,” Jaral said, coming face-to-face with his father. “She makes me strong.”
He thrust the valar blade into Abaddon’s chest without another word.
The demon screamed in agony.
Darcy raced to Jaral, dragging him away from his father. He convulsed in her arms as the dark spell halted its progress. Darcy watched as the inky black started to fade from his veins. Whatever poison was coursing through him, it was receding.
Piercing screams filled the air. Darcy wrapped her arms around her lover and gave him what support she could as they watched his father wither. The deadly magic worked quickly, draining the vitality out of the king. His cheeks grew hollow, his scream hoarse. His limbs shriveled like a decomposing body. The once impressive king seemed to fold in on himself, growing smaller and smaller.
In a flash of light, his decimated body was sucked into the blade. The dagger fell to the ground with a clatter. For a long moment no one moved.
Around them, the demons stilled as they realized their king was gone. The creatures looked to one another as if wondering what their orders were now. Some spiteful spirits took out a couple of the dazed demons before they retreated themselves to await further commands.
Finally Jaral stepped out of her arms and walked to the magic blade. He lifted it with care, looking at the shining metal. Darcy saw a tiny screaming face reflecting on the blade’s surface before Jaral slammed it into its sheath.
“He’s trapped,” he said, his voice even.
“It will be centuries before he can cause trouble again. Perhaps he will reflect on his ways,” Arawn said.
“I doubt it.” Jaral held out the knife to his uncle. “Keep him out of sight.”
Arawn accepted the blade with a nod. “There is an empty throne in the demon world, nephew. It needs to be filled.”
Cold raced through Darcy’s body. An empty throne. Jaral’s throne. The one he’d spent his whole life trying to earn. It was his now.
While Arawn might have broken the rules for Kerilyn, she would have no such luck. The demons would never allow a human hunter in their realm. When Jaral left, he’d be going back alone.
Pain sliced through her. To get him back only to lose him again.
“Come, Keri. Our time here is up.” The spirit lord held out his hand to his queen. With a slight smile she nodded.
“We’ll see you next Halloween,” Kerilyn said. “Try not to let the world implode before then.”
“Keep your magic on your side of the rift and I think we’ll be okay,” Darcy replied.
Kerilyn inclined her head and followed her mate to the black sear mark on the concrete. “My apologies,” she said, looking down at her own blood. “I would never have let Arawn get away with this had I known.”
The spirit lord snorted. “Don’t you understand yet?” he asked Kerilyn. “I can never lose you. Not to my brother, not to mortal death. I will follow you anywhere, my Keri. For eternity.”
Darcy watched the hunter smile at her frightening mate. There was no hesitation as she linked her fingers with his and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Let’s go home,” she whispered.
Arawn wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin against the top of her head. With a flash of blue, they were gone.
“The blood,” Jaral said, holding out his hand. “Let’s close this rift once and for all.”
Darcy didn’t hesitate. Fishing the syringe out of her pocket, she handed it over. After all that had happened, she trusted him to use it for the right reasons.
Cailin limped up to Darcy’s side as they watched Jaral kneel by the black mark. The demon from the Rex stood nearby. Jaral whispered a few words Darcy couldn’t understand. Without hesitation, he poured the blood onto the ground. There was a pause and then the dark stain started to shrink. It grew smaller and smaller, as if it was being absorbed into the ground, until only a tiny spot remained. Before their eyes, it winked out of existence.
“Cailin,” Darcy asked. “Can you sense anything?”
The hunter nodded. “The rift is gone.”
“I concur,” the Rex demon added. He turned to Jaral. “Which leaves you with only one problem left to solve.”