Butler moved with ease through the throng of people. He didn’t care for them as a general rule, but sometimes, like now, he needed them. Today of all days, he needed to have some of the anger, the energy that he craved. Sitting at one of the benches in front of the food court, he waited. It wouldn’t be long before some kid and his mother would come here to give him what he needed.
Children were the strongest life force he could use. Their anger was white hot for only the briefest of times, but it was full of energy too. In less than two minutes there was a woman with three little kids, and each of them had the look of overprivileged little shits that just did not give two fucks what their mother wanted. This would be good.
The first fight began over the seating arrangements. It was fifteen minutes of threats that would never be acted upon, crying, and a temper tantrum. He got the most magic from the tantrum, but he enjoyed it all.
After an hour, still no food gathered but a great deal of magic for him, Butler moved on. There was more to be found in the mall, and he was going to enjoy every single bit of it. Walking past one of the larger department stores, he paused in front of a show window. He saw a woman there that reminded him of Prisane.
The queen, the bitch. She’d been nothing like he thought she should have been. He wanted a woman to warm his bed, to bear him sons, and to turn a blind eye to what he did to entertain himself. She had done none of those things. In fact, Butler was very sure that she went out of her way to be so opposite of what he wanted that he wished that he’d had the opportunity to kill the fucking bitch.
Well, she had born him a son, one that he’d known nothing about until later when he’d come to see him. By then Butler had been broke, looking for his next bride to sire him a brood of sons. And he’d been dabbling in the magic that had sustained him all these years.
But the women had been failures. None of them, not a single mistress, wife, or even raped female, had given him anything but more useless females. It was as if he’d been cursed. And if he was, he knew just who to blame for that as well. That fucking Prisane.
His son was so much like his mother that Butler hated him on sight. The kid, a man really, had come to him to kill him. He might have, too, if Butler hadn’t had a little more magic up his sleeve than the kid had. He’d been surprised by that, and for that one time he’d had the upper hand in things. But not so much since.
“You think to kill me, your own father? For what reason? I’ve done nothing to you. You should be happy that you even breathe because of me.” He laughed and told him that it was his destiny. “Destiny? Your only destiny, son, is to come to me when I call you and to help me find your mother and that fortune. I’d even be willing to share it with you if you’d help.”
“You’re never going to find it, and I am not a son of yours.” Butler had laughed at the stupidity of the statement. How did he think he’d gotten here without his seed? “Mother sent me to find you…she prepared me for this day. I’m going to end your life, as someone should have decades ago.”
The sword that he pulled from his scabbard was beautiful. Butler would bet anything that it was a part of the McCade holdings. Holdings that he’d never been able to find in three decades of looking. He pulled his own sword, cheap and not of much use against the one that would cut into him. And cut him he had, too, over and over with the thing. Even now, after all this time, the pain of those very cuts would ache him, even bleed at times. And reasoning with him hadn’t helped at all.
“We should come together, you and I. See what we have missed over the years. I think I should like to see what you have—”
The sword sliced through the air, not an inch from his face. Had he leaned in to give his son his hand, he would have been beheaded. He was sure that had been his plan. Butler didn’t even know his name, much less his age or anything about him. And he thought he wasn’t going to get the chance, either. Not at the rate the encounter was going.
“Stop this. I am your father, and I demand that you stop this nonsense this moment.” The younger version of his mother stood there, the tip of his blade resting in the ground between his feet. The grin on his face was so much like his mother’s that it was as if he was staring right at her. He was neither winded nor sweaty, the opposite of himself. “You cannot wish to kill me. I have much to offer you. A fortune of jewels and other sundry. Come, let us raise a tankard in honor of your dearly departed mother.”
“My mother was a saint, and I doubt overly much that you wish to raise anything to her but your fist should she be here. I know what you did to her. Nay, I will not drink with you in her honor, when you did nothing but harm and tear everything apart that she worked so hard for her entire life.”
Butler laughed. It was funny even now to think that she had worked. Women were of no use when it came to working, but for housework and bearing sons. Butler was a man, a great man, and all females, as far as he was concerned, were of no use other than to spread their legs and give him a son. His son, he’d not understood that. He doubted much that he did even now.
“What is it you think I did to her? Hit her? Yes, it was my duty to keep her in line when she wished to run over me. Did I spend the money, my money when I wed her, on things that she did not care for? Again, I did that. But what right did she have to tell me what I could do with the money I earned by marrying the wretch?” He watched the boy, and wondered where he’d been hidden. Who had been there when she’d birthed him? “Is it because I took others to my bed? It was my duty to sire a son, one that I knew about. She deserved whatever came to her by lying to me about my son. She did this to herself, the lying cunt.”
“And why do you think she lied to you? Because she felt you’d teach me your ways of life?” Butler said yes, it was what he would have done. “I am happier than you can know that she kept me from you. She herself trained me in the art of sword play. How to wield a blade, fight a man with my fist. Mother showed me the way to treat a person, be it woman or man. She taught me more in the years I was with her than you could have ever imparted to me. Mother might have lied to you, but she had her reasons. And before me stands the main reason you were never told about me. You’re a monster.”
Butler had decided to ignore the comment about him being a monster. Even then, he’d thought of himself as more than that. Now? He supposed he was that and more. And Butler loved it. He snorted at the things his wife had taught his son, knowing that he’d be better at everything if he’d done it.
“Sissy things. Woman’s ways. Did she also teach you to wash laundry? Perhaps she showed you how to cook your lazy wife a dinner? I’m sure that any woman you take to your home will be happy to know that a mere woman taught you how to be a man.” The kid laughed then, threw back his head with it. “You think this funny? That you’re a failure of a man?”
“Am I, Father? How many other sons have you sired? I have six sons, all of them young men that I can be proud of. And they will have sons, six each as well, until a time comes when the McCades will be whole again.” Butler called him a liar. “Nay, I am not. I know that you have had nothing but female children. Twenty-three girls, not a son among them, is there? And would you like to know why? I know. Mother cursed you. Or some would think that she saved the world from the sons that you might have had.”
“She cannot do that to me.” Again the laughter, so much like his mother’s that he wanted to run him through. He told him that she had and still did it even now. “You will tell me where she is, and I will deal with her this moment.”
“Mother is far beyond your reach, Father. But she sent me in her stead. I will give you the punishment that you so richly deserve.” Butler asked him what he thought he’d done wrong. “Breathed.”
The sword arced through the air, slicing his arm from shoulder to wrist, rendering his arm useless. As the blade swung back and forth, cutting more and more into his flesh but never giving the killing blow, Butler tried in vain to kill his son. Not only was his son’s blade far superior, but his skill as a swordsman was excellent. Then he took Butler to the ground.
“You will stand there and end my life? The man that gave you what you have?” The boy asked him what he thought he’d given him. “Life. Without me, you would have not have existed.”
“You are wrong about that.” The blade moved slowly into his belly, his body too beaten and drained of energy to fight any longer. “I shall see you again, Father. And when I do, I shall sit back while your grandson, many generations from now, slices your head from your shoulders.”
Since that day and many days and years after, he would look at the wound in his belly—not a scar as it should have been, but a long slice of a cut, the width of the blade that had put it there—and think of those words. His grandson, a son of his son’s children, might come and ruin his life.
It was why he’d killed them, the preceding McCades, that had been born. It mattered little to him if it was a female or a male, so long as the circle of them, the power of the name, could not harm him. Until this generation. This one, they’d been the hardest of all of them to even get close to. And he had tried, every day for decades. Even with the piece that he’d harbored for all these years in his possession, he was still afraid.
Butler realized that he’d been standing in front of the store for too long and moved on. There were times, like today, when his magic was simply too weak to keep his appearance as he liked. Young and vibrant. A face and body that women would fawn over. The children’s anger had only served to make some of his aches and pains go away. And there were plenty of those too.
Had he had the money and jewels, as were his to do with as he pleased, then he could find him another witch. Have her give him enough magic so that he no longer had to suck energy from those around him. Twice now over the decades he’d found such a person to give him the magic to keep him alive, and both times they’d only given him as much as his coin could pay for. Butler was not able to promise them money that he did not have long ago. Only now, in this time, was he able to procure money to spend and use. They seemed to know much more about him than he thought good. It was then that he hit upon the idea to advertise about the jewels and the legend. And to have others find them for him.
It had been his plan to put out as little information as he could about the set. The fact that one of them had been broken down into two pieces wasn’t common knowledge, but he soon found out that a lot of details, more than he’d had, were there for the taking. He wondered briefly if it had been his son who had done that, made it difficult for him to get anyone to do the job for him.
His fourth wife, the fourth woman that he had taken to his bed after Prisane, had said the necklace was too heavy for her delicate neck, that it hurt her to wear it. And in his happiness to have a son, which she promised him the child she was fat with would be, he did just as she wished. It had been one of the biggest mistakes of his life.
Butler had lost both pieces soon after that. It had been the witch’s payment, when she said she would help him with the magic. He had no idea how she’d found out about the jewels, nor at that time had he cared. He would have had a long life.
It had been his plan to kill her when she had done the deed, then take back the pieces. But she had been long gone before he had recovered enough to chase her down for them. Now all he had was one part of the beautiful and cursed necklace.
He thought about the only piece that he’d been able to find in all his years of killing off the McCades. The family had had others. He was sure of it. But all he’d been able to gather was that one. Butler couldn’t understand why that was, but with this generation, he was afraid that even that might not be enough to get to what was rightfully his.
Butler knew there were dragons. He’d seen them his entire life when he’d been a kid, then through his married life with Prisane. She would ride that monster of hers until he nearly wanted to kill her to make her come back and behave. But he never hurt her when the monster was around. He’d learned that the hard way.
The dragon had made him pay for the one time Butler had lost his temper with Prisane. The dragon had been there in the same room. The large beast of a warrior had come up off the floor and attacked. His wings had knocked him to the wall, his hot breath had burned his skin. He thought the only reason that he’d not killed him was that he wore his crown. Butler never took it off again, even to go to the privy, for fear that was the only thing that would save him again.
Now here he was, within touching distance of four of the other pieces, and he couldn’t get them. Not even close enough to see which useless female held which item. He needed more, any of them, but all he had was the necklace and nothing else. He knew he was never going to see the monies until he had them all.
There had been riches too, he’d seen them. Chests of gems and stones. There had been bolts of cloth. Spices from faraway lands. Paintings from great artists. He knew that most of that, the material and foodstuff, would be rotted by now, but the chests would be…should have been his. He was the man of the castle, and she had deprived him even of that.
Great portraits of bygone McCades were there, even one of him and his wife, the traitorous bitch. There had been pottery and carpets. Of course he’d stolen most of it, right from under her nose, when he’d been there. Sold it off when she told him he was to have no more. But there had been things, a great many pieces of furniture, the throne he so loved sitting upon, and even the books that lined many of the shelves in the library. Books that he’d never touched them because he’d not learned to read.
She rubbed that in his face as well, offering to teach him his letters and numbers. But that had been of no use to him then, and less so even now. Butler was king then, and he thought of himself as such now. Kings did not worry over what was written in books, of all things.
Making his way to his little hovel, he put away the items that he’d taken for himself. New shirts and a jacket. A pair of leather boots and a coat. He never thought of it as stealing. That would mean that it wasn’t his for the taking, and everyone knew that kings took what they wanted. There would be plenty enough people bowing before him soon enough, he knew, and he wanted to look his best when that time came.
Sitting on the only piece of furniture that he’d been able to bring here, he looked around the place. It was only temporary, he told himself, and his chair, a cheap version of the one he’d sat upon so long ago, would be replaced. Soon, very soon now, he’d have his castle back, and servants. And then he’d deal with his son.
“Caelin, you are going to be very sorry you were ever born.” Laughing, he leaned back in his seat. Plotting and planning had never been his strong suit, but he thought that he’d done well thus far. Hire others to find the pieces, pay them with a bullet or poison, or even use another person working for him, and he’d never have to pay out.
Frowning, he thought of his plan so far as somewhat of a failure. No one, not a single one of the men he’d had working for him, had been able to produce a single piece. He was going to have to get better men. Not like the fools he’d had before, but men who would not hesitate to kill to get the pieces. Ronny—what a sissy name—had gotten him the female as he’d said, but he must have been followed or something. The man who’d killed him and the other man had shown no mercy when dealing with either of the two men.
Butler knew that he’d only gotten out with moments to spare. Whatever had come for them, whatever man had been there to save the woman, had been good. In and out, not a sound had been made. The only thing that had saved Butler’s life had been the fact that he’d had to piss. Upon returning to go and get her piece, Butler had found the room torched, the men dead, and the woman gone too. Butler knew that he’d been gone only a few moments. Yes, Butler thought, he only survived it because he’d had a full bladder.
“I’ll have to make them heel to me. These men and women, these people will know my wrath before this is all done.” Lying down on the blow up mattress he’d been able to take, Butler felt confident in his proclamation. They would know their place or he’d show it to them. And perhaps he’d have a bit of the woman too. While her mate watched. No, he’d not do that. Shivering once, he rolled to his side and closed his eyes. Soon, he told himself. Soon.
~~~
“Does anyone know where he might be?” Dalton wanted to tell Kenton that if they knew where this man was, wouldn’t they have sent someone to take care of him by now? But he didn’t. His temper was short enough without having his brother pissed off at him too. He looked over at Gabe.
She’d been so quiet since he’d picked her up from the warehouse not two hours ago. After telling them what she’d heard from Lyna and having it confirmed by Roderick, she’d fallen silent. Dalton had asked her several times if she was all right, but her answer had been the same…she was fine, just thinking.
Sitting down beside her, he took her hand in his and held it. Whatever she was thinking, he’d not been able to breach her mind to figure it out. It was too…well, it was just too everything.
Her mind was bouncing between medical jargon and the conversation with Lyna. Then she’d be on a shopping trip, back to the emergency room, and then.... He looked at her when she touched on the memory of the boy and the dragon. Then her mind calmed and he spoke to her.
“Who was he?” She shrugged and shook her head. “The child was dead, yet he spoke to you. How was that possible?”
“I don’t know. He gave me this.” She pulled the little chain out of her blouse and showed him the dragon on the chain. “He handed it to me. Then a few hours later, this little man, a man that I now know is your long lost...I’m not even sure how many grandfathers back he is, but he comes in and gives me a little box with the hair things in it. I haven’t...I’m trying my best to work this out, but I’m lost.”
“I am as well.” He looked around the room…his family was all there. Gavin and his mom, brothers, and sisters-in-law. They were all working on this problem as if it were their job. He supposed in a way, it really was.
“The little man, I have a feeling that he’s not so little or as old as he looked to me. He was...I know this sounds odd, but I think he was projecting an image that made me feel safe with him. Like a little old man that meant no harm.” He said that it made perfect sense to him. “So he comes into my office, and tells me this story about dragons. I didn’t believe him, of course, but....”
She got up and began pacing. His family did that as well. Jorden, he thought, was the best at it…he mumbled to himself, used his hands a lot, and usually came to a good answer or solution to whatever he was working out. But Gabe just paced quietly, and without using her hands. It was sort of calming.
“I don’t think there was even a little boy.” He asked her what she meant. “Well, a week or so after the incident—and that’s what I’m calling it because anything else makes me ill—but a week later I realized that I had no death certificate to sign. There had been no one coming in and asking me about it. So I looked him up. There was nothing in the paper. Not a single mention on the news, and I couldn’t find the family either. I think…that was a cruel thing to do, don’t you think? To play on my emotions like that. Using a child.”
“Yes, it was. But I’m glad that it was done that way. I mean, that no one was killed. I see little of it here, but when a child is killed, even just dies from some sickness, it takes a great deal out of me.” Gabe sat down across from Dalton. “He got your attention, right? He made you remember it, to take the dragon from him.”
“I think that’s when he marked me. Not like the other women, but silently, like he didn’t want me chased when I came here by.... Well, by his father. The dragon, Caelin, he didn’t hound me like I heard he did with the others. There was no guiding me here with the promise of riches. Nothing like that at all.” He nodded, not exactly liking where this was going, but thinking she was correct. “There was a shield around me, sort of. I was able to not just get here without much in the way of trouble, but we met and came together because I didn’t have all this other drama going on with it.”
I do not think I hounded anyone, my lady. But I do believe that you may be right. That young Caelin has brought you here. She laughed when Dalton did at the tone of the dragon’s voice. The charm that you wear, I think it is what kept you safe, as you have said. And I’m sure that he will do the same for the other two women. They will have their own piece of magic that will keep them safe for the same reason.
The others joined them. His mom sat there very quietly, and watched them as they took turns making assumptions about who would be next, how safe she’d be when she traveled, and what she’d have as the next piece.
“I think he has one.” They all turned to her. “The father. I think he’d have a piece of the set. I don’t know which piece, but he’d have one. That would be his bargaining chip.”
“How did you come to that conclusion? And I’m not saying that you’re wrong, but tell me how you got there.” She smiled at Kenton when he laughed. “Mom, you’re scary right now. You know something, what is it?”
“Let’s assume for a moment that he has one piece. And for this, we’ll say he has...I don’t know. He has the necklace. That was the one piece that was left behind, Caelin told us that. As did the queen. So this king, Butler, gave it to his new wife and she wore it. After a time, however, he had it broken down into two pieces for one of them…I can only assume that he had more than just a couple of wives in his lifetime.” Dalton nodded. “Okay. We know that he doesn’t have the four pieces that we have. The necklace was made into the torques that Harper wears and the necklace. He has to have that piece. He would have kept it, I think, to have when the other pieces where found. Like I said, his bargaining chip to hold over our heads.”
“You think he had anything to do with the other generations dying before it was complete?” Mom told Kenton that she didn’t think so, it wouldn’t have benefited him to do that. “I don’t know, Mom. From what I’ve come to understand about the man, things were to be his way or he’d kill you off. No, I think he’s had a heavy hand in making sure that this curse, for whatever reason, didn’t come about. But okay, he has one of the pieces. So how does the woman come here? I mean, there is nothing guiding her if she has no jewelry.”
“No one guided Gabe either, but here she is. I think—and this is just this old woman speaking—I think that the son will protect them as best he can from his father.” All of them, him included, denied their mother being old. “But what do you think of my theory? I mean, he had to start somewhere, correct?”
“So he has this piece. What then? Will he come here, take the pieces from us, and then raise....” Emma stopped speaking and her face paled. “He’s a McCade. I mean, not by birth, but he married Prisane and became a McCade, right?”
Caelin asked to have a moment to see how that worked. Dalton was almost afraid of the answer. He knew it was going to be just as Emma said. He’d come here, kill the women and children, then them, and then take the jewelry for himself. Then he’d call forth the dragons and win. Win what, he had no idea, but they’d all be dead and he’d end the legend for all time.
“He did not take her name. And there was no love between them. They were not mates.” Dalton asked him what that meant. “It means that he is not a true McCade. Without being born of one nor being loved, truly loved, by a female in this family, there is no connection to the jewelry for him. He will not be able to call me or the other dragons. He will not have the ability to see the magic that calls to him either. The jewels, to him, will be ordinary in color and beauty.”
“You mean that he might, for all we know, have one of the many copies. I don’t see that happening, do you? I mean, he had the piece from the beginning. He would have known the piece as well as we do. But that’s not going to do us a lot of good in the end, will it? We’ll still all be dead and he’ll have the set.” Jasmine said they’d just tell him that he wasn’t the right kind of McCade to call them forth. Kenton was shaking his head even before she finished speaking. “No. I mean, we could tell him, no problem. But it’s doubtful that he’d believe us. And to get that close to him, to let him know? That would be like giving him the keys to this all, and we know it. He won’t believe it until all the pieces are together, we’re all dead, and it doesn’t work.”
“Well that just sucks.” Dalton laughed. His mother just didn’t speak that way. “If it’s all the same to you boys, I’d just as soon you not get killed. Not that I know how that would work with us all being immortal and all, but I’m sure that if we think on it, there is a way.” Kenton told them all what the dragon had told them earlier. That he had to do the killing. Caelin spoke before they could continue on their good news.
If he is with us all when I’m called, then he can order me to kill you all. Even though he is not a McCade, he is forever my king until someone else comes along and makes it not so. Dalton wasn’t sure what that meant, not really. There was something there, something he wasn’t getting, but he was too strung out to think right now. And so was his family, apparently.
After they all left, he sat on the couch with Gabe and held her. He was terrified of losing her and the rest of his family.