EPILOGUE
Zoltan took a reluctant bow before the Great One. Before he could straighten to his full height, the leader of the Demons of Fear rose to his feet and took a step toward him.
“You’ve failed!” he thundered, the sound of his voice echoing in the vast, deep cave where he held court.
Zoltan clenched his jaw shut, fury coursing through him. He had already had the drug in his hands without knowing it. That knowledge gnawed at him. He’d been so close. And now, everything was lost: the scientist was dead. He’d seen it with his own eyes. Later, the medical examiner had confirmed that it was her body that had burned in the wreckage. The Stealth Guardian’s body hadn’t been found. It didn’t surprise him. He would have been able to escape the inferno.
The sharp tips of his claws emerged from his fingertips, evidence that the anger that boiled inside him was getting stronger and would not be so easily subdued today. He wasn’t in the mood to be taken to task over his failure, even less so knowing ten of the Great One’s guards were watching his humiliation.
“An accident,” Zoltan pressed out, even though he had his doubts about it. What if the Stealth Guardians had in the end decided to kill the scientist after all, realizing it was safer for them that way?
“There are no accidents!”
Zoltan raised his gaze. “No, there aren’t.”
But his leader wasn’t done admonishing him. “I believed in your capabilities. You assured me that this woman would be easy pickings, that the drug would be ours. And now, Dragor, what have you got to say for yourself?”
Zoltan listened to his birth name, but didn’t like the sound anymore. He had changed. He wasn’t going to cower any longer. He saw himself as the new leader. And the name he’d chosen for himself, the name of a successful entrepreneur, one he’d had to kill after he’d resisted his influence, suited him fine. He’d in fact admired the man for his strength. Yes, his new name, Zoltan, reflected that strength.
“My name is Zoltan now.”
The Great One advanced, bringing them within a foot of each other. “I decide what your name is, boy. I’m your leader. And your chances of becoming my heir died with that woman. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, I understand fully,” Zoltan replied and pulled his dagger, driving it into his leader’s stomach.
Realization flashed in the demon’s eyes as Zoltan drew the dagger upwards, slicing him open. Green blood and guts spilled, and gurgles escaped his dying leader’s mouth.
“I don’t need you to declare me your heir anymore. I’m taking what’s mine, old man.”
Then he kicked him backwards, dislodging the dagger from his gut. With preternatural speed he turned, witnessing as the guards stared at him in shock, ready to attack.
Zoltan squared his stance. “Are you ready to die for your dead leader, or would you rather live and serve the new Great One?”
He waited, feeling power surge in him, never taking his eyes off his opponents. They exchanged glances.
“Then bow before me!”
One by one, the demon guards lowered their swords and fell on their knees. With satisfaction, Zoltan turned to the throne and took it, molding his broad back against the cold stone.
“Things are about to change. The Stealth Guardians will feel my wrath.” He stared at the demons who were now under his command and smiled to himself.
“Soon, very soon,” he murmured under his breath.
THE END