Unbound

by Amber Lynn Natusch

  She focused for a moment; then her eyes flew wide open. “They are where Deimos found me.”

  She relayed the location to me—a place not far from the factory where we had found the gods—and I focused on that location as I clutched her hand in mine. “We will get there in time,” I said just as Oz and Kaine rounded the corner, doubling back to see what was taking us so long. But I had already channeled Trey’s magic. The last thing I saw was the anger in Oz’s eyes and his hand reaching for me as he shouted for me to stop.

  Seconds later, we appeared on the outskirts of the city. Vacant, dilapidated buildings were scattered about, with waist-high grass between them. Celia searched the grounds, homing in on whatever connection she shared with those she commanded—the few remaining that were loyal to her. She locked onto a distant building and took to the sky, flying toward the crumbled wall with the gaping hole in its side.

  The silence in the air was an ominous sign as we approached, and it did not escape her attention. “I hope we are not too late.”

  “We will not be,” I replied unsure of the truth.

  At great speed, we flew into the building to find a mob of Light Ones standing together. They turned as we entered, and I noted Raze’s absence. None moved as Celia landed before them. I landed a few yards behind her, remembering the cold response I had received from them in the Heidelberg Project. With no enemy present, I did not wish to cause a problem.

  But it seemed that hope was in vain.

  “What happened?” Celia asked as she rushed around them, searching for the injured. The wounded. “Who attacked you?”

  When they did not respond immediately, the pieces of what was happening began to fall into place.

  “Mother,” I said, my voice teeming with caution, “come here, please. Now.”

  She spared me a glance over her shoulder. “Khara, we must—”

  “It is time to go,” I said with even more force—the force of Drew’s power.

  She turned back toward me, her brow creased with anger and confusion. “Khara, what is the meaning—”

  “I believe this is an ambush,” I said plainly, drawing my weapons. She reached my side just as the Light Ones began to spread out and circle us cautiously, their actions a testament to my suspicion. Their eyes darted back and forth between my mother and me, as though assessing who the bigger threat was; they knew what underestimating me had cost their kind, and they were well aware of what my mother could do. Starting a war with us was far from rational behavior, which made me realize that they were not acting of sound mind.

  Phobos had to be involved.

  I had no intention of waiting to confirm that theory. Instead, I grabbed her hand and focused on the Underworld, but I felt the power flicker and fade, the two rapid journeys before then having drained me. Like it or not, it was clear that we would be fighting our way out.

  “Why are you here, Remus?” she asked one, tracking his every move with the casual grace of a lion prepared to pounce.

  The Light One laughed. “Is it not obvious, Celia?” His steel-colored gaze drifted to me. “We need to put an end to this madness.”

  Her shoulders stiffened. “And what madness is that, exactly?”

  The lot of them stopped and drew their weapons. The tips of their white obsidian blades all pointed at me.

  “She is an aberration and you know it,” he said, the bite in his voice traded for a beseeching tone, “and she, along with her half-breed brothers, cut down our kind.” His eyes jumped to the white down at her back as his own wings twitched ever so slightly. “She is not one of us, Celia, and she never will be.” My mother’s jaw flexed at his words, but she said nothing. “She killed my brothers!” he shouted. “She killed them all, and yet you stand here at her side—the child you willingly discarded—as though you defend her actions.”

  “And what of them?” she spat, her words as sharp as the blades they wielded. “They carved me open to undo what they did centuries ago, and yet you would have me pity them. Choose them over my own flesh and blood.”

  “We did not betray you,” Remus countered.

  Her eyebrow quirked at his words. “Is that not what you are doing right now?”

  “We did not come for you,” he said as he shifted into a fighting stance, “but you will have to choose.”

  Her emerald stare turned to me, and I saw the pain that haunted her in its depths.

  “You do not have to choose, Mother,” I said, snapping my black wings wide. “Feel free to just stand aside and let me finish what they have started—”

  “No, Khara,” she said, pressing my wing down as she stepped closer, “I cannot let you do that.” Remus and the other Light Ones smiled at her reaction, as though they had won the war before it had even begun. Then she turned to address him. “The Light forced an impossible decision on me once before, and I chose the way of a coward—the way of dishonor—but I never will again,” she said, her voice full of iron and fire and the wrath of a mother whose child had been threatened. “So if you require a choice, then accept this as mine: I will die before I let the shine of your weapons reflect in her eyes. Before the wind from your wings can kiss her cheeks. The Light betrayed me, just as I once betrayed her. I’m admitting my wrongdoing and willing to fix it—will you do the same? Make up for what the others did to me?” Their collective stare turned to my midnight wings, and I knew in that instant that they could not—would never. And so did my mother. “Well, then,” she said as she turned to let her wings spread to their fullest, “do not say with your dying breath that I did not offer you mercy.”

  With a war cry like I had once heard from my twin, she shot forward to cut down anyone in her path, and had it not been for her warning, she would have done just that. As it was, the first slash of her wing narrowly missed her target. But I did not have time to watch the beautiful way she fought for long, for the Light were upon me as well. As I spun and swung against the soldiers of the Light, I yelled for them to stop, using the force of Drew’s power to fuel my words, but it only slowed them for a moment. I met their blows with parries and counters before I called upon Zeus' lightning, hoping to wipe them all out, as I had so many in the Hallowed Gates. Sparks ignited in my fingers, but the surge of power felt sluggish and foreign, and it took far too much concentration to force it to the surface to serve me.

  “Khara!” my mother shouted as a blade bit into my wing. Sharp pain blinded me, and the sparks sputtered out entirely as I fell to my knees. My attacker lunged at me, blade drawn back to impale my chest, but I managed to tuck and roll away. His momentum drove him past me, and I cut him down with a single swipe of my obsidian wing. His torso now sliced in two, he fell to the ground in a severed pile of blood and feathers.

  But the battle was far from over.

  I had barely gotten to my feet when another Light One’s blow landed on my arm. Had I not turned with the hit, it would have removed it from my body. Instead, it bit deep into my flesh, and I cried out. Fire built inside me, and I fueled it with that pain and anger until I felt it slowly rise up my throat. But just as it entered my mouth, I felt the power wane and the heat fade until I stood there before a raging warrior, exhausted and without the Dragon’s fire to call.

  My abilities were failing me.

  I was losing the fight.

  Have I made my point yet? the voice in my mind asked.

  Blood ran from my nose and the world around me began to spin as I tried to steady myself and failed.

  I crashed to the ground just as another Light One fell by my mother’s sword, leaving only one enemy left. She dared a glance over her shoulder, and I wondered if the fear in her eyes would be the last thing I ever saw as my own drifted shut. Fatigue and weakness I had never experienced paralyzed me, and I could feel my heart slowing. Had this been how my mother had felt when the soul inside her had refused to settle where it needed to be? Was I to suffer that same fate? Had I made it worse with every attempt I had made to use my adopted powers?

&nb
sp; It was too late to ponder that which would not matter for long.

  As the world went dark around me, I heard Eos’ voice drifting through my addled mind. You cannot fight me forever, she said. It will be the end of us both if you do.

  “Eos,” I muttered, the word a slurred whisper.

  Yes, you fool. Now, listen to me before you perish and ruin this for us all.

  “Cannot…let you…loose...”

  I do not wish to leave. I wish to stay, she said, emphasizing that final word. I am the key to destroying Phobos. And you, my dear Khara, are my vessel for justice.

  “Khara!” my mother shouted again as she dropped the body of the last Light One. She ran to my side and shook me. The movement felt so distant—so detached—and her voice was barely a whisper in my ear, though somehow I recognized the shouting tone of it. “Khara! Stay with me! I’ve called for the others. They’re coming to help!”

  But there was only one way to help me, and even as I lay on death’s door, I knew it. I could not call on the Healer’s power to save myself, and even she could only prolong the inevitable.

  Deals with the devil, as Kierson loved to say, only ended one way.

  I was about to test his theory.

  “I will not…relinquish this…body…to you,” I said, summoning what little strength I had left. “But…I will…share it.”

  Eos’ silence drew on so long that I feared the chance had already passed.

  I accept, she said, a smile in her voice.

  Then I felt her swirl around in my chest and settle around my heart, releasing whatever hold she had on me. Life rushed through my body, and I shot up next to my mother, whose agonized expression greeted me when I opened my eyes. Her arms wrapped around my neck, careful not to jostle my wounded body in the process.

  “You’re all right,” she said, her voice hushed and choked with dread.

  “I will be,” I replied, looking at the wound on my arm. With a deep breath, I tried to call the healing power I possessed. It came as it always had before, and the warm sensation swarmed around the wounds in my arm and wing until the pain abated and the slashes sealed shut.

  I pulled away from her to stand just as the reinforcements she’d promised appeared out of nowhere. Casey, Drew, and the twins stood with Trey, weapons drawn and scanning the carnage. Kaine, and Oz fanned out around them.

  Then their collective gaze fell upon the gash in my sleeve and the crusted blood on my arm.

  “What happened?” Drew demanded.

  “It was an ambush,” my mother explained, one leader to another. “They sought to make me choose between the Light and my daughter.” She looked at Remus’ corpse, his stormy eyes forever locked on the sky above, and sneered. “But they could never fathom a mother’s love—and it cost them their lives.”

  Drew nodded his approval. “How did she get hurt?”

  “She can speak for herself, Brother, and I am confident that you will not like the answer.” I turned my gaze to my mother. “Nor will you.”

  “Then I’m guessing I really won’t like it.” Oz’s voice cut through the group like a knife headed for me. He pushed through the others until he stood directly in front of me, his chest heaving with barely contained anger, eyes burning with fury.

  “Perhaps I should not tell you, then, for I fear it will not improve your mood.”

  His hand drifted to the slice in my ruined jacket. His finger traced the bloodied hole, then skimmed its way up my arm to my neck and, eventually, the soft curve of my jaw. I could feel the cold, wet trail of blood left in its wake as that fingertip drew across my lips.

  “When I see this on you,” he said, his voice low and menacing, “precious little can keep me from going over the edge. But try me anyway, new girl.”

  So I did.

  I relayed the events just as they had played out, sparing no detail. I watched as his anger blossomed to rage at the tale, until I reached the point where I had begun to fade. The blood drained from his heated cheeks as I recounted my failing powers and the drain from the soul inside me that my mother had undoubtedly felt—only I could not heal myself as I could her, so my body had betrayed me until I was weak and vulnerable and receptive to manipulation.

  “Manipulation by whom?” he asked, his near-whisper of a question belying the powder keg of emotion that lay just below the surface.

  I took a deep breath. “Eos. I cannot contain her as I should be able to. Trying to keep her at bay cost me in a way I could not have imagined. And she fed on my power. Every time I tried to use it, she grew stronger and I grew weaker, until I lay half dead at the feet of my enemy.”

  “Then how are you standing before me now?”

  My eyes drifted to Kierson. “I made a deal with her.” A chorus of swears rang out around us. Oz stepped closer still, his chest grazing mine. “I saw no other choice,” I said, an unsettling feeling twisting in my gut—shame. “You are angry with me.”

  A statement, not a question.

  “Oh, I’m angry,” he replied, the muscles in his neck cording as he restrained himself. “That bitch better hide away deep inside you and never show her face, because I swear on all that is holy and not that I will rip her from your body and deliver her to Hades myself.”

  My shoulders eased at his words, and the ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “She says I need her to destroy Phobos,” I said, leaning against him. “Beyond that, I do not know her plans.”

  “I know what mine are.” A wicked grin spread across his face. “I’m going to figure out a way to get her out of you—and then I’m going to torture her.”

  Pressure between us built to a near-uncomfortable level until Drew’s words cut it in a flash. “We should get back. We’re too exposed here, and we should send for The Specialist to come clean up this mess.”

  “Agreed,” Casey said, heading for Trey. “Take us back to the Victorian before anything more fucked up can happen.”

  “You should not tempt fate,” my mother said, no hint of levity in her tone. “She is always up for a challenge.”

  A dark rumble of laughter rattled my chest. As am I, Eos whispered inside my mind. Cross me and you will see…

  19

  Eos was quiet on the journey home, which was a small blessing. I had chosen to fly instead of go with Trey and the others because I wished for time alone—or as alone as Oz would let me be.

  With the cool air on my face and the rush of wind in my ears, I tried to focus on the powers I had absorbed in my time above—those that had quickly come to define me. But whenever I reached for them, all I could feel was the cool emptiness of Eos waiting in the shadows, a dark reminder of the predicament I was in. For better or worse, she and I were bonded now, a force united under a single cause: eliminate the god of fear.

  The question that niggled at the back of my mind was: what would happen if we succeeded?

  Because surely her soul would be unwilling to leave this competent vessel, one that did not require that soul to be whole. But it seemed I could not evict her as I could others, and therein lay the problem. If I could not effectively control her now, I had no reason to believe I would be able to then.

  If ‘then’ ever came.

  While I pondered that ominous future, Oz flew up beside me. I could feel the weight of his stare boring through my profile, willing me to look at him. But I could not bring myself to. Shame coursed through my body—an emotion I had not felt before—and it sickened me physically as we shot through the sky, well above the clouds.

  The moment he opened his mouth to speak, I dove through the downy grey blanket that shrouded the sky over Detroit and into the darkness beneath, headed for the Victorian. I knew my family awaited me there. I knew they had questions beyond what had been asked at the scene of the Light Ones’ ambush. I wished I had the answers they sought, but I knew I did not, and whatever truth I could offer would only frighten them.

  But with nowhere else to go except for the Underworld, which would offer me no r
efuge from their interrogation, I shot toward our neighborhood and landed in the front yard. Cass emerged from the shadows, but I waved him off. He would know soon enough about what I had done, as would my other brothers. Instead of briefing him, I walked through the front door and past the others, who conversed in hushed whispers in the living room.

  “I must rest,” I said as I headed for the basement door. “I will not be long.”

  Before any of them could answer, I closed the door behind me. I had come to my room to be alone—to escape the pressing weight of my family’s concern—but I knew I would find no solitude there. Only moments after I had crossed the dark basement, the door opened, followed by heavy footfalls. Footfalls I recognized well.

  I had heard them on those stairs many times before.

  “I am too tired to speak any further about my stupidity,” I said, not turning to confirm what I already knew: that the Dark One stood behind me, wings twitching in frustration. In anger. In myriad other emotions my exhausted mind could not begin to fathom.

  But my fatigue mattered not. Not when Oz wanted answers.

  “You were rather blasé about things back there,” he said from behind where I sat on the far corner of the bed.

  “I was not trying to be. I am just tired.”

  “Which is cause for concern all on its own.”

  “I am immortal, Oz, not invincible—that is my twin, if you recall. And even he, to my knowledge, requires sleep.”

  “I wish you were,” he said, his voice so soft and low that I wondered if he had meant to say it at all, or if the words had escaped of their own volition.

  Perhaps he was as tired as I.

  The cot creaked as I shifted my body to look at him. The moonlight from the tiny basement windows cast an eerie glow on his harsh features. He was haunting and beautiful. An angel of death and so much more; the guardian I had never wanted but could not do without. And as he gazed at me, something else flashed in his expression, penetrating the depths of his stare. I had only seen it there once before. Possibly twice.