Chapter Twenty-Six
He was hungry. Fuck that, he was starving.
She was tearing him up, and she had no idea. He was hiding it well. Wasn’t he?
Gods, I hope so, he thought. Because the monster inside him wanted out like it never had before. She was driving him closer to the breaking point every second.
A Nightmare didn’t need to eat or sleep, and it didn’t get hot or cold. But much like the infamous vampires of The Lost Boys… Nightmares had to feed.
It was a symbiotic relationship, really. The Nightmare found a beautiful soul, gave that soul pleasure, and fed off the resulting ecstasy. Bliss was an innocent emotion, base and real and unassuming. It was beauty in its purest form, and as such, it sustained a Nightmare like air, like water – indeed, like blood.
Nicholas hadn’t sunk his proverbial teeth into anyone since before he’d been killed. Hesperos had never been a patient man. But it was beginning to feel as if Nicholas Wargrave were even less so.
Every time his queen looked up at him, he saw straight into her soul. She was a banquet to a starving man. She was so much more than she realized.
Nero was out there somewhere, just on the other side of the Nightmare Realm’s door, trying to pick the lock. Nick could feel him. What was worse, Nero wasn’t alone. It wasn’t just the Challenger putting up a fight for Adelaide in that crypt, it was the Entity. One never forgets the face of the man who kills him, and whether he was wearing the Challenger’s mask or not, Nick recognized the evil bastard the second he’d stepped down into the tomb.
Had Nero been a willing victim? Were they working together?
Regardless – Nero was now far more powerful than he had been, and had twice the incentive for getting to Adelaide.
Nick couldn’t blame him. This time, the Challenger had more than a kingdom to win should he defeat Nick. He had a queen to win as well. The tastiest morsel an incubi ever imagined devouring. And this was the last time. This was Nero’s final chance, and he was running out of time. The Challenger only had so long to rid the world of the reborn king and take his place before the Fates sent him back to whatever non-existence it always sent him to. Likewise, if Nicholas didn’t face him, he could not reclaim his throne. Nero would vanish, and Nicholas would never be crowned. The Nightmare Realm would be without its sovereign forever.
Their battle was imperative. There was no hiding from it, not for either of them. And Nero was going to fight like there was no tomorrow, because if he didn’t win, there wouldn’t be.
All of this only made Nick’s monster want out even more. The faster Adelaide claimed her throne, the sooner she would be safe from the lot of them. But pressing matters with her wasn’t going to work. Hell, it never worked with anyone. But she, especially, was not the kind to bully. The results could be disastrous.
So he told his monster to back the fuck down. He only prayed it wasn’t a grave mistake. And that it would obey.
*****
Adelaide slowly turned to the path leading down, took a few steps, stopped, and turned back around to head up again. She did this a few times as Nick’s words echoed in her mind. It took her a moment or two to straighten them out. This is what she had to do when something really, really didn’t make sense to her: she had to move. She had to pace it out. She had to do something with her body while her brain worked furiously, or the imbalance of activity sent her into panic mode.
She stopped up where Nicholas was and raised her hands in a “What am I supposed to do with that?” kind of gesture. She opened her mouth to say something, but when she realized she didn’t know what she was going to say, she shut it again and turned back around to begin her pacing once more.
Nicholas, for his part, wings and all, said nothing. He stood there in stoic silence and watched her – and she couldn’t be more grateful for that. She needed this time. She needed this moment amidst the chaos her life had become to straighten a few things out.
He says I’m the Nightmare Queen.
But that means I’m special. I don’t even know what Nightmares really are, and I’m supposed to rule over them? I must be exceedingly special.
But I’m not that special.
But yes you are! her brain bit back. Look at your life. You’re psychic. You’ve won the lottery. You save lives. You are as special as a human can be! Aren’t you?
The last bit was said uncertainly. And her mind fell silent for a bit after that. Meanwhile, her boots paced out a path on the onyx-obsidian-ruby walkway.
You know there’s more, her brain insisted. You know elves are real, unicorns are real, and so is Santa Claus. You get feelings about things, and you have all your life, even since before you were psychic. You’re so sensitive that it’s painful. Maybe there’s something more to that. Maybe…
Maybe I’m meant to be queen of an entire supernatural nation? she questioned herself sarcastically.
Okay… yeah. That is admittedly a lot to swallow.
Finally, she stopped in her tracks and threw up her hands. “Nicholas, I have no idea what to think or say right now. My mind is a mess.”
Nicholas Wargrave, in all of his other-worldly beauty, smiled. Those fangs flashed. Addie’s core grew warm.
“How about this,” he suggested casually. “How about we head down into the Carnival and get something to eat and drink. We can talk.” He moved toward her. “You can ask me anything you want and I will answer you honestly. We have time.”
He stopped in front of her and gently took her hands. For some reason, she let him. It was comforting, despite the fangs.
“Does that sound okay to you?”
She nodded. It did.
“Then come here,” he said softly as he opened his arms.
She felt her eyes go wide again. “What?”
“Come here,” he laughed. “You want to fly over the Carnival. I told you I could arrange that.”
“By giving me wings?”
He shrugged, “Well eventually, yes. But for now, we’ll use mine.” He didn’t give her another chance to question him or protest. Instead, he rushed forward, and before she even fully realized he’d done so, his arms were wrapped securely around her waist, and his massive, powerful wings were beating hard against the air.