Powerline : Book Three : Two Kings

By Derekica Snake

Back in the Wild, Nicky hopes that he and Mags can finally settle down and get King Tiger's magic under control. The mantle of kingship drops on Nicky's shoulders yet he is tied to the Empire by a defective implant. Natural remedies and healing magic can only keep him mobile and it becomes clear that Neko and his Golden Tigers would have to make it back to the Shambles to get the help needed. Only the last time they left, The Grim Reaper was less than impressed and they were unsure of their welcome.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kiixink
• Release date: Aug 15, 2016
• ISBN: 9780981180274

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Powerline : Book Three : Two Kings

powerline: Book Three: Two Kings

Powerline

claw mark.jpg

Book Three:

Two

Kings

By

Derekica Snake

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Powerline: Book One: Nicholas

Powerline: Book Two: Magnus

Powerline: Book Three: Two Kings

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied by critical articles or review.

Text by: Derekica Snake

Cover Art by: Romantic Fae

Dedication

This is for the Loyal and True, the fans who have been patiently waiting for me to get back to work.  I hope you enjoy the final episode of Nicky and Mags.

Contents

Prologue

A Princely Sum

Shawelle

Catch

Firestorm

Smoke and Daggers

No witch may rule

Serit

Whitecoat

Recovery

Insecurity

Chips of Evil

Medical

Love Cats

Colors

Pinpoint

King Nicholas

Artemis

Epilogue

Prologue

So I asked myself, Nicky am I happy?

I’ve experienced varying degrees over the years but the best times were with my crew, the Skullz, no, correct that, out here in the Wild with Mags, that blond ass, when he was being quiet and still in my arms. Not that the Golden God of Destruction was still for long, but the contentment he gave me for that tiny period of time was more than I had ever hoped for growing up.

So yeah, I was happy.

I can’t say that the Kingdom of Shangrilla was thrilled to see me and my strange tag-a-longs pop out of the darkest part of the Wild to take a comfy seat on the coveted throne. My Mags pulled his arrogance as King Tiger First rank about him like a mantle and endeared himself the way he normally did while Wendy, Tiger Fifth Rank, tried to blend into the scenery since there was damage to his mechanical eye from our planned airship crash.

You see the Witch of the West had sat as regent on the throne while the guard had searched for the lost prince, ahem, me. After six years and lack of progress there were rumblings of pressure being applied to force her to abdicate since traditionally a witch could not rule. Of course these were just whispers. No one was stupid enough to tell the most powerful witch in the Wild that she had to do anything -- at least not to her face.

So forget the fact that I had two pale skinned golden haired men who cut a fine figure of fuckability, these guys were also, first and foremost, Witches of my mother’s caliber. Well, Wendy was not quite there, but he was far better than most of the other Witches of neighboring Kingdoms.

There had only been one concerted effort to attack us since I had yet to say yes to the crown.

Everyone expected Mom to put the threat down in a typical show of force with archers and warriors around her.

Instead, Mags and me went out. We faced the onslaught just the way the Empire had taught us - alone on the battlefield.

We came back home; they didn’t.

Mags was...well I think he was actually happy here.

At least until the tales of the black ships of the Empire started coming to the castle that sealed the deal on the crown prince choice.

If I was going to have to be called King to get that damned Empire out of our faces, I was going to do it. King Tiger. King Neko. Two kings were better than one...and we were going to have to show those Blackshirts just how deadly two cats could be.

A Princely Sum

Suddenly my genitalia and who I shared it with was the subject of intense scrutiny by the whole of the Kingdom. I don’t know why. I mean, look at him. Really, I mean it. Look at him.

Six weeks in the Wild eliminated that pasty hue that marked him a stranger.  It was going to take some time to blend in with the rest of folk, but with that tanned flesh and those sky blue eyes and the growing strands of gold on that fine figure of a male, how could you turn that down?

A shaft of annoyance streaked through my chest.

They better turn that down ‘cause he’s mine.

Okay, when I was younger, I hardly turned down anyone but that didn’t make me a slut, just a wee bit over indulgent. Now, I only have a hankering for a hunk of king tiger cat.

However, Mom made it clear that she did not approve.

Not because he was a former Blackshirt, or that we were sharing a bunk, but, get this, because of his lack of witch training. Nobody could deny that he was a witch, however, his power, his usage, and even the fact that he had inscribed summoning glyphs into his body, made him a danger to himself and everyone around him. That inherent destruction was the reason that the Empire wanted to get rid of their King Tiger poster boy.

I had hoped that Mom and the Council of Witches would jump at the chance to take him under their wing. That didn’t happen. Since I wasn’t considered a witch, I was barred from the meeting. Mags basically told me that if any of the Council thought he stepped out of line, they were going to light him up, set him ablaze to ensure the safety of the kingdom. I got mad. I was ready to storm the Council with all my razor sharp claws about me, but Mags distracted me with a little bit of that sexual magic that runs between us.

A couple of orgasms later, completely drenched in sweat and mutual offerings, Mags told me that he had been assigned a witch tutor.

How the hell did you accomplish that? Those old farts aren’t known for changing their minds. My bones were on the verge of turning into pudding as I laid there on the bed.

I got down on my knees and asked for guidance. Mags’ fingertips lightly caressed the dark outline of the mage mark tattoo on my chest.

And they bought that?

He gave a throaty snort. I told them that we were marked and that if I died, you more than likely would be coming with me.

So it’s more about keeping me here in this castle than actually teaching you something.

Mags shifted and rested his head on my chest. His hand slipped around my waist. I will take whatever I can get, Nicky. There was no hope at all back in the Empire. I will grab at whatever I can find to stay with you.

We grabbed at each other and melted into the night.

**********

Mags was assigned to apprentice to an elder Master Witch. I kind of hoped it would be Mom, but she was too busy running the kingdom as Regent to take on the training commitment that was required to get him under control.

The Witches Council didn’t think much of Wendy either. He was declared untrained too. I guess dangerous was a term only given to someone who could really do some serious damage. Okay, that came out wrong. Wendy was a Battle Mage. I only met him after his injury so he didn’t strike me as being as capable as the other witches I knew. Mom took on partial training with him. His main tutor was a male Witch who was older than Wendy and was blind in one eye too. Wendy just seemed to be lacking confidence, but now that he had a concrete example that perfect vision wasn’t necessary to cast, he was making stunning progress.

Mags not so much.

And I couldn’t help.

Not because I couldn’t do magic, but suddenly I was in a magistrate position as heir apparent and there was court every fucking day from sunrise till noon. After that I was buried under piles of scrolls dealing with matters of state to legal squabbles over property to who’s chicken was whose. Top that off with Baret, the Wild’s version of an Empire Groomer, trying to cut my hair, change my clothes, and take my blades. I didn’t have any peace.

Nobody. I mean NOBODY takes my blades.

It would have been easy to walk away from this but we, all three of us, were here for a reason. Survival.

Besides, with all this mediation and paperwork I had to contend with, I could see the parallels in Grim running the RIPpers and surrounding territory effectively while having to handle infighting and killings because disputes got out of hand. Growing up outside the walls of the castle, I thought that the Wild was constantly in chaos. It wasn’t the law of the land that had made it so deadly, it was the lack of leadership from the previous King. I now appreciated the effort Grim put into role as Gang Boss in the Shambles. This was fucking hard. I had a raging headache at the end of every day from listening to complaints. I could appreciate the sheer artistry Grim handled himself with. There were times I just wanted to stab the both complainants because their argument was so petty. The Wild and the Shambles were more kin than not.

Then to make my headache even more complete, there were women and girls everywhere. Wendy, Mags, and I were like the prize stallions that had suddenly been added to the herd and all the mares were coming out to offer up the goods. Well, that sounds better than:  We’re being circled by bitches in heat and schemers who want their bloodlines tied to the upper class.

I still find that hard to wrap my head around. After all those years growing up shunned and dismissed, I was now the pinnacle of our society.

And, to add fuel to the fire, as magistrate, I performed marriages.

Big doe eyes looking at me when they should be watching the ceremony. Mama doe staring at me with that self-same expression. Shudder. Considering no girl would look twice at me growing up, I found this all to be a whole lot of distasteful.

Besides, why would I want that when I got…whoa, what’s going on?

I tossed down the ink brush I was using and headed to the open window. Someone was getting a dressing down in a most humiliating public way. I stuck my head out fully intending to enjoy the much needed diversion, and found my Mags standing there dripping wet as his Master Witch Skore yelled at him.

What the hell?

A child can do this, Blackshirt. A mere child. Why can’t you? You claim to be the best of their witches, but you can’t even light a candle. If Lady Witch hadn’t charged me with your training, I would have kicked your ass out long ago!

What killed me was that Mags just stood there, dripping wet and defenseless, as he took that verbal abuse. I moved to jump out the window and rush to his side when I felt a hand fall on my shoulder. Mom. It had to be her because she was the only one who could sneak up on me.

What do you think you’re doing, Nicholas? Her voice had the tone that she said she already knew what I was going to do and that it would be in my best interest not to.

He’s mocking—

Master Witch Skore is teaching. Leave them be. There was no room for defiance in her voice.

But— Didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try.

Mom leaned out the window and looked across at the scene. Your Magnus is the most spoiled child I have ever encountered.

He’s not a child. Folding my arms across my chest, I leaned against the window and stared out into the courtyard. Mags might have been childlike in our first meetings but he’d changed so much since then. I saw it. He was nothing like he had been. Why couldn’t anyone else see that?

Then that makes it worse, Nicholas. He’s a very powerful, very pampered, and very spoiled man. He has never had to suffer the consequences of his actions because someone has always stepped in to clean them up or take the blame.

I opened my mouth to argue, but then had to snap it shut because it was true.

Mom continued, I blame his parents.

He doesn’t have any parents from what he’s told me. His own mother sold him to the Empire when she found out he was worth something. He was raised by a machine.

Master Witch Skore picked up a water bucket and threw it at Mags. No, no he can’t catch. Sure enough the bucket hit Mags high in the shoulder, grazed his head, then bounced to the ground. I thought Mags would kick it back at Skore but he just bent over, picked it up and headed to the cistern.

Machines do not raise children. That would explain that self-importance that is his core. If he was catered to at every turn, that is why he is so helpless.

Is that why you hate him? I watched as Mags struggled using the chain at the well. Normally, he would have magicked it up to the surface, but he had agreed to restrictions on his power usage within the castle boundaries.

I don’t hate Magnus, Nicholas. I just don’t see what the appeal is aside from his physical form. If he were to just stand there, he would be appealing, but that air of, Mom’s eyes flicked over to me.

I think the word you’re searching for is entitlement.

Yes, that suits him. He has an air of entitlement that is rubbing everyone the wrong way.

I shrugged. It’s not as bad as it used to be.

I don’t think I want to even consider how bad it could have been. Master Skore teaches the children, Nicholas. He has patience and understanding way beyond anyone else in the Witches Council. I have never seen him berate a student like this before.

Oh yeah, that entitlement can be part of his charm. I muttered.

What did you do when he was being …charming?

I flexed my fist. I beat the crap out of him.

Mom tossed her head back and laughed.  I liked the sound of it.  I don’t remember her laughing much when I was growing up.  Mom reached out and brushed my bangs back off my forehead then brushed the back of her hand over my cheek. She paused for a moment before turning away from the window.

What do you think of this? Mom gestured to the unending stack of parchment and wooden scrolls that just seemed to magically multiply on my desk.

The desk.

Not MY desk.

I blatantly changed the subject. When do you think you’ll be done with Wendell?

Mom’s eyebrow twitched but she allowed me that slight avoidance. That boy is a very talented witch, but he lacks confidence.

Yeah.

Yes.

I rolled my eyes at her correction.  Yes.

She nodded and continued. One of your companions has too much and the other not enough. That strange eye of his is something else. Master Tera says that the scar on his face doesn’t hinder him and that his eye shouldn’t bother his casting, but it holds him back far more than it should. How long ago was he scarred?

I watched Mags pull up the full bucket and then turn towards the path leading to Master Skore’s school. He staggered and drenched his pants.

Oh, Mags.

Nicholas?

I twisted on my heel so my attention was now on her. I don’t know. Wendy’s a rather new addition to the team.

Master Tera seems to think that it’s more a mind disability than a physical one.

So do I.

Mom picked up a scroll from the done pile and un-rolled it. He can’t get him to take that eye patch off.

Mags said something about Wendy wanting to paint. Maybe if Tera got him to paint her house.

Mom busted out laughing. Good one, Nicholas. She re-rolled the scroll. This should keep some of the petty arguments off your table once that ruling gets out. 

She straightened to her full height. Her dark hair was shot with streaks of grey, lines marred her face now, but she was still the way I remembered her.

I don’t think that is the kind of painting he meant. Once upon a time, Nicholas, this palace used to be bright with color. There were paintings on every wall depicting the history of our kingdom. In the Great Hall there used to be a painting showing the Royal Family, but it was ordered destroyed.

I could imagine by who -- the bastard who killed my father.

Mom picked up another random scroll and opened it. It would do wonders if you would get your portrait painted.

I reached over and snatched the scroll from her hand and threw it back on the desk. Let me clear up this misconception now. I am not a prince.

Of course not Nicholas, you are King.

No, you’re not listening to me. I am not a prince and I am definitively not king material.

Mom brought her hand up to my cheek. Nicolai was a Prince. He was the second son of the Kingdom but he was a legitimate prince. With the King dead without heirs, you are the next King, Nicholas.

It seems that everyone has conveniently forgotten that I killed the last King.

Mom slipped her hand over my mouth. No one knows what happened that night but you and me. Those creatures that always hung on his side have been silenced. As far as the court knows, those dogs turned on their master, then themselves, and the story will remain so.

I pulled her hand away. After what he did to me, to us, after all those years, you want him venerated as some sort of hero?

He is not remembered as a hero. He was a cruel, petty, and jealous man who didn’t even try to hide it from his people. Mom’s hand slowly shifted sideways and stroked my cheek again, then reached up and tucked my hair back behind my ears. The day you were born, your father was the first one to hold you. I knew just from the expression on his face that you were all that he had ever wanted. I saw the black, black hair and when you finally opened your eyes to the world, you had the topaz hued eyes of the Royal family. Each passing day I saw you turn more and more into your father’s visage. I told you the day you stormed into the Great Hall, my heart stopped for a moment because I thought Nicolai had walked into the room.

Mom paused and took a bracing breath. That man stole your birthright. You should have had a noble’s education and training. You should never have known hunger. You should never have known cold. I did all I could do in my power, but, after all, I’m still just a mother. A woman who couldn’t protect the two most important people in her life.

I’m still alive.

Mom shook her head. There is survival, Nicholas, and there is living. I examined your body while you were weak. You are scarred in places that show you lead a difficult life after you left this place. I fear you’ve only been surviving. Now that you’re back, I’ve going to give you everything you have ever been denied.

I didn’t understand why this was an issue. "If I’ve never had