Unbound

by Amber Lynn Natusch

  “She’d end you before you had the chance,” Oz snarled.

  “Would she?” Phobos countered. “Just as she’s ending me now?”

  I tried to call my lightning, then remembered how ineffective it had been the last time I had used it against him. And even as fire surged in my belly, I struggled to manifest the Dragon’s flames in my addled state. My head should have been healing far faster than it was, and I wondered if something else was wrong with me. Something I could not quite discern.

  I drew my blade and pointed it toward Phobos as I tried to steady myself. “You could try,” I said.

  His expression darkened at my response. “I see this is going to be harder than I suspected.”

  “You’re fucking right, it is,” Oz said just before he lunged at the fear god, and my heart shot into my throat.

  A bright, white sword appeared in Phobos’ hand from nowhere, and he sliced it through the air at Oz’s head, missing by the narrowest of margins. The fire I had been unable to call surged up through my throat and flew from my mouth at the white-haired enemy. Even if it did not hurt him, I hoped it would prove enough of a distraction for Oz to get away.

  But it seemed the Dark One had no intention of doing that.

  With the cover of fire, he sliced his wing at Phobos’ abdomen and carved a horizontal line through his billowy white shirt. Blood blossomed there seconds later, and I staggered toward the two, hoping to see the demented son of Ares fall at any second. Oz’s wing cut another line through the air, headed for Phobos’ head, but his attack was met with steel this time. Obsidian feathers clattered against the glowing blade, and the two locked in place, leaning their weight into the strike in an attempt to overpower each other.

  Fear and adrenaline shot through my veins, and I ran toward them, prepared to do whatever I could to end the madness. Phobos looked past Oz to me and smiled yet again. Then, in a flash, he disappeared.

  Oz pitched forward with the loss of resistance, and I slammed to a stop to search our surroundings.

  He is not finished yet, Eos whispered in my mind, as though she had been here before—as though she knew this for certain.

  Oz turned to look at me, and his eyes went wide. “Khara!”

  As the hair on the back of my neck stood on end, I dove forward, driven by a sixth sense and Eos’ warning. I tucked and rolled toward Oz, my wings bent and tangled in the movement, and before I could even right myself, I felt strong arms clamp down around me and the rush of wind against my skin. I untangled my hair from my face to find Oz’s jaw by my nose, the muscles feathered as he clenched his mouth shut. We shot through the air so fast that it was difficult to breathe.

  I had never flown at that speed before. Motivation seemed to spur Oz on.

  “Care to tell me what the fuck that mess was?” he finally growled at me, his voice a rumble in the wind.

  “I do not know.”

  His arms tightened around me, and amid the cold air assaulting my flesh, I felt a warmth against the wound on my temple—a soft brush of lips.

  “I thought he had you…” he said. I pulled away enough to study the angle of his jaw until he turned his eyes to me. The pain they held did little to assuage my guilt.

  “Because of you, he does not—and will never.”

  Silence. “He’s getting bolder, Khara. That’s never a good thing.”

  “He cannot have what is not his,” I said as I pressed my face to his neck. “And I am capable of flying on my own, you know. You can let me go.”

  “No, I can’t,” was his response as his fingers splayed across my back. “So, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather you stay right the fuck where you are.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on tight.

  Oz landed on the roof of the Victorian and stormed to the window with me still in his arms. It was only when faced with the task of climbing through the small opening that he was forced to release me. He waited impatiently for me to slip through, unwilling to leave me alone outside for even a moment.

  Phobos had shaken him, that much was plain.

  “Before we head downstairs,” he said as he stepped through the window, “I want you to explain, in great detail, what happened before—and after—I tackled you, because that was a shitshow of epic proportions.”

  “I hit my head harder than I thought,” I said in my defense. “It took far longer than it should have to get my bearings again. It was Eos shouting at me in my mind that pulled me from the haze, and—”

  “Come again?” he said, thrusting his face in mine. “Eos did what, now?”

  I let out a breath, knowing there was no point in mincing words. “I can hear her…she talks to me. It is unlike anything I have ever experienced with a soul.”

  “Fuck—”

  “It was she that drove me to my feet.”

  He stood before me, seething, eyes white and blinding. “How long has this been going on?”

  “Since my mother was saved.”

  A string of curses flew from his mouth this time. “And I’m just now hearing about this because…?”

  “We had more pressing matters to attend to, and it was not yet a problem—”

  “It seems like a pretty big fucking problem, new girl!”

  “One that neither of us knows how to solve, so I saw no point in mentioning it.”

  His eyes slammed shut as he struggled to control the rage boiling inside him. “That’s not how this works, got it? From now on, I know what you know as soon as you know it. No exceptions.”

  “Understood.”

  “Good. Now, tell me why the fuck it took you forever to get your shit together after banging your head?”

  I took a breath, knowing my answer would likely do nothing to improve the Dark One’s mood. “My body felt awkward and sluggish once I stood—it took forever to call my fire to use against him.”

  “Glad you found it in time,” he muttered under his breath, his glowing eyes dimming.

  “The thought of you without your head seemed to motivate me.”

  “So, you’re saying that you hit your head that hard—hard enough to knock you out of it?”

  “So it seems.”

  He stared at me before closing the distance between us. He cupped my chin gently and turned my face to the light. “Your pupils look fine.”

  “I feel fine—now.”

  “You should have healed faster than that. I’ve hit you harder when we’ve trained.” His eyes narrowed as he leaned in closer. “Something isn’t right, and I’m willing to bet it has to do with that fucking soul swirling around inside you.” His grip on me tightened. “Maybe that bitch wants to come out and play for a bit—share some answers with the class about what she’s doing in there and her plans for her psychotic brother.”

  “I am the only one who can play with you,” I replied, slowly pulling his hand away, “and you may be right that Eos is to blame for this somehow, but ejecting her is not likely the answer. Not until we learn what we need to.”

  His expression soured, and he turned to pace the room. “How do you suggest we get answers from her? As long as she’s inside you, she’s safe.”

  “Perhaps I should let her out somewhere like the Oudeis. I imagine it might inspire her to talk.”

  “Except you don’t seem able to evict her, remember?”

  Yes. I did. Regretfully.

  “It is possible that Casey could help with that.”

  “Maybe…”

  “Or perhaps Persephone—”

  “No. No way. I still don’t trust that bitch.”

  “Did she not just aid us with Ares? Does that not earn her the slightest grain of trust?”

  He shook his head. “No, because the second it suits her, she’ll turn on you. The fact that your interests temporarily align doesn’t make me think any differently about her.”

  “That seems harsh, Oz, even by your standards.”

  “Maybe you’ve gone soft,” he countered. “You didn’t see what
her antics did to you by the Oudeis, new girl. That one would stab you in the back with a smile on her face if it got her what she wanted.”

  “Me not in the grasp of Phobos is what Hades wants and, therefore, what she wants as well.”

  The Dark One did not look convinced. “Maybe, maybe not. Either way, she’s not an option.”

  “That leaves Hades.”

  “And he won’t do anything that jeopardizes you. If you can’t get the soul out on your own, he won’t risk doing anything to force it out for fear you’ll be harmed.”

  I took a breath, prepared to argue further, when I heard footsteps coming down the hall. Seconds later, Oz’s door flew open and my brothers filed in.

  “How important is it that we keep Demeter alive?” Drew asked, looking positively worn out.

  “Yeah, that bitch is getting on my last damn nerve,” Casey added.

  “Demeter can be rather trying at times,” I said, doing what little I could to hide my amusement. I had lasted centuries in her company. My brothers had not made it more than an hour.

  “That’s a fucking understatement,” Kierson muttered under his breath.

  “Where is she now?”

  The three of them shared a nervous glance. “With Pierson,” his twin answered sheepishly.

  I canted my head. “And where is Pierson?”

  “In the basement.”

  Oz’s laughter was almost immediate. “Did he shackle her to the wall?” The lack of response was answer enough. Oz’s laughter grew. “I didn’t think the nerdy bastard had it in him.”

  Kierson grimaced. “She kept messing with his books—”

  “It wasn’t pretty,” Drew added with a wince.

  “But it was fucking awesome,” Casey said with a laugh. “You should have seen her face when he dressed her down in Greek. I haven’t heard some of those words in a long time—”

  “And he used them in ways she clearly wasn’t ready for.” Drew’s smile shone through at the thought.

  “What would you like me to do with her?” I asked. “Shall I return her to the Underworld?”

  “Fuck no,” Oz snapped. “You’re not leaving this house until Eos has given me some answers about the asshole that killed her. We’re not having a repeat of the Heidelberg Project debacle.”

  My brothers looked from Oz to me and back again.

  “How can Eos tell you anything?” Drew asked, suspicion in his tone.

  I quickly filled them in on what I had just finished telling Oz. Their responses were eerily similar.

  “So, she can talk to you?” Casey asked for clarification.

  “Yes.”

  “What the fuck happened in the HP?” Casey’s fingers instinctively reached for his blade.

  “We went there to summon Hermes,” Oz explained, “which went off without a hitch. He’s off looking for your father to tell him that Khara has changed her mind about replacing Sean. We’re trying to draw him out, and my guess is it’ll work.”

  “So where’s the hitch?” Kierson asked.

  “Phobos ambushed us right after Hermes left,” I said. All eyes in the room were on me in a flash. “I see no point in no longer saying his name aloud. It surely cannot make things worse.”

  “What happened?”

  “He appeared right in front of me and tried to take me,” I said calmly.

  “And she seemed to be doing nothing whatsoever to stop him, so I sacked her to the ground and, apparently, knocked her senseless. While I went back to deal with him, she stumbled and staggered around like a useless drunk.”

  A line of furrowed brows stared back at me, confusion apparent in my brothers’ expressions.

  “My mind was addled. It took a while to recover. I was able to breathe fire to distract Phobos long enough for Oz to wound his abdomen, but he did not seem at all bothered by it. He just smiled at me.”

  “He thinks she’s Eos, which can’t be a good thing.”

  “Thinks or knows?” Casey asked, dark eyes narrowed.

  “He seemed pretty certain when he called her Eos, but whether it was a bluff or he knew Khara would have to remove Eos’ soul to heal Celia, I don’t know. It seems like he orchestrated this whole mess, so I’m betting the latter—”

  “He called her Eos?” Drew asked, puzzling out the encounter.

  “He did.”

  “Like she would be the one to respond?” Casey asked, blades drawn, as though he could carve Eos from me if he did not like the answer.

  Eos said nothing.

  “He seemed to expect some sort of warm reception from me—or her. When he did not get it, things devolved. As far as I can tell, he will never get one from either of us. Eos wants vengeance. Her rage at the sight of him was stifling—perhaps that is why my reaction time was so off in the Heidelberg Project.”

  “Whatever happened, I’m not letting you leave the safety of this house and your army of dead brothers until your new roommate tells me what I want to know.”

  I felt her stir within me, a curiosity of sorts drawing her to the surface, and I closed my eyes to focus on sending her back to the depths of the void.

  “Khara?” Drew called. His hand landed gently on my shoulder, drawing my attention. “Are you all right?”

  “I am fine,” I said with a wry smile, “or more specifically, I will be fine. It is true that this soul is not sitting inside me as the others have, but I am confident that I will be able to force her into submission. Now,” I said, turning to the others, “perhaps we should go check on Pierson before he does anything else out of character.”

  18

  Though I should not have been, I was still surprised to find my adoptive mother tethered to the basement wall. Pierson was arguing with her in Greek, and as Casey had said, it was most certainly creative.

  “I think it is time for you to return to the Underworld,” I said. Before Oz could embark on his outburst, I silenced him with a raised hand. “We will all go.”

  He closed his mouth, but his expression remained sour. He could not argue with my plan, but he did not like it, either.

  “I do not belong there,” she seethed in Greek.

  “You do until I know that you cannot be used against me somehow.”

  “Fucking right,” Kierson added. “You’re one shady-ass bitch.”

  “Cunning, too,” Pierson said, his eyes still focused on the goddess shackled to the wall. “I do not believe her perusal of my books was benign.”

  “Meaning?” Oz asked, moving closer to him.

  “I cannot be certain. I just found her choice of reading material to be suspicious.”

  “Then she goes to the Underworld permanently,” Oz said, an obsidian wing whizzing toward Demeter’s neck.

  “No,” I said, parrying it with my own. “We might need her again. Hades will keep her out of trouble. Perhaps Persephone can entertain her during her stay.” I let every ounce of malice I felt slip into those words and allowed the implications to dawn on Demeter before continuing. “I think it is past time for the two of them to have a heart-to-heart, as they say.”

  “I think that would be wise,” Pierson said, moving to undo the manacles binding my adoptive mother. Demeter struggled against his hold to no avail as he hauled her toward the stairs, her forked tongue spewing hatred the entire way.

  “Do we have any duct tape?” Kierson asked as we filed into the living room. “Because I can’t handle listening to her much longer.”

  “Way ahead of you,” Casey answered, a strip of silver tape in his hand. “Can’t have too much of this shit—or zip ties.” Demeter’s expression was murderous when Casey quite literally slapped the tape in place, silencing her. “That’s much better.”

  “Khara,” Drew said softly, “are you well enough to transport us to the Underworld, or should we call Trey?”

  “I think I will be fine.”

  “Then let’s get this done and return before any other crazy shit can go wrong,” Oz muttered under his breath.

  �
��I am coming, too,” my mother called as she descended the stairs with Kaine behind her.

  “I thought you were supposed to be in the in-between,” Oz said with no lack of irritation.

  “You are not in charge of me, Ozereus,” she said, casting a glance at the white wings behind her and the Dark One looming just beyond, “and now that I am myself again, I will participate in the fight to keep my daughter safe. Is that understood?” Oz managed to hold his tongue and give a curt nod in response. “All right then, shall we?”

  She reached her hand out to me and I took it, while Kaine and the others all put a hand on me so the group could travel to the Underworld as one. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as I focused on my father’s realm.

  Seconds later, we stood outside the gates. The twins had Demeter by the arms, dragging her through the entrance down the corridors toward the Acheron with Oz and Kaine close behind. Drew and Casey followed behind them, leaving my mother and me at the rear of the group.

  “Something happened to you earlier,” she said.

  I explained the encounter with Phobos as we walked through the stony tunnel, and my mother grew deathly quiet. Moments after I finished, she spoke. “I’m sorry, Khara. For all of this.”

  “It is not your fault—”

  “But it is. None of this would have happened had I raised you—”

  “You cannot know that,” I countered. “Ares would still be my father—still be the scheming beast he is.”

  She considered my words for a moment, but it was clear from the crease in her brow that she did not believe them.

  Suddenly, she doubled over in pain, and panic shot through me. “What is wrong?” I asked, grabbing her by the shoulders.

  “The Light Ones,” she said through gritted teeth. “They must be under attack.”

  “How can you know—”

  “Because they are my charges still, and I know when something is wrong with them.”

  “Where are they?” I asked, unsure of how to help her. Oz and the others were far ahead of us, and the fear in her eyes made me question whether we had time to get them. “Can you tell me where to take you?”