Escaping Destiny

by Amelia Hutchins

  “Sounds lovely,” he said.

  “Pleasure is a given. If we took it, it would probably be hell. The easiest way is what you would think to take, but since were dealing with Danu I’m going to take a gander and say we’d kill someone for taking it. Horror is the one most people wouldn’t take, so we go with it.”

  “Blades out, and stay behind me. But stay close, Flower. I like my balls just the way they are.”

  “Deal,” I said, and giggled at my own inner thought process.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked after a moment had passed.

  “I was thinking that I don’t have to run fast if we get in trouble. I just have to run faster than you.”

  “Funny girl.” He smiled, but didn’t take his eyes off the path of the maze row we had taken.

  It all changed as we got further into the maze. It was worse than a fun house. Grey clouds rolled in above us, as thunder clapped so loudly in the sky, it rattled our teeth. The tall maze shrubbery changed into wicked looking thorn bushes, which twisted and tangled around us.

  Ristan hissed and cut through thick tendrils of thorns that threatened the path. “Horror may have been the wrong choice,” he said after a few more branches pushed in front of us, blocking our way.

  “It was the only one that didn’t sound tempting. I’ve learned never to take the easy way out of anything; it always ends up with people dying. Pleasure, don’t get me wrong, I like it, but I’m not taking any path that leads to pleasure with you or the Goddess.”

  “Good point,” he said with a short laugh before he started whacking at another vine.

  We followed the path for what felt like hours before we finally came to another fork, and another piece of vellum. We stayed there for a little bit, and I was pretty sure it was Ristan’s way of making sure I rested. He took his time before he read the slip of vellum.

  “To find the goal, you must concentrate, for within these walls there is one at stake. Which path would you prefer to take? Death, or life, the choice is yours, but keep in mind, even immortals can make mistakes.”

  “I say we cut a path right down the fucking middle and kill anything that moves,” I growled.

  Ristan raised a brow and whistled. “Damn, Flower. That almost made me hard. Shock me with that blood thirsty little inner vixen.” He smiled and helped me to my feet.

  “You choose, Demon. There is no right path on this one.” I sighed. Life or death? I chose life, but I had a feeling it was a wrong choice.

  “Life,” Ristan said. “We choose life, Synthia. Some things are worth fighting our way through.”

  The moment we stepped foot on the path to Life, everything turned dead. Shit. I felt sick, and instantly bent over and started retching my guts out onto the path. Ristan grabbed me quickly and stepped back into the fork for the paths.

  “You’re okay, I got you.”

  I felt Ristan’s hands touching me, but Ryder’s comfort filling me as I emptied my stomach until nothing was left. “Death,” I said and sat back against the Demon, who had sat behind me to comfort me as I spewed my guts up.

  “Death,” he agreed. “Let me know when you are ready.”

  “I’m ready, Demon. Let’s show this bitch who is boss.”

  “That’s my girl,” he said, and helped get me back to my feet once more.

  Death was lit from within, and beautiful. Roses had grown on the vines, and the sun had taken place of the clouded skies. “From death comes new life,” I whispered as I watched birds fly together, and butterflies as big as my head fluttered around us.

  “No more easy ways. From here on out, you choose.”

  “We choose together,” I said, and palmed the blades at my sides.

  “Together,” he agreed.

  “Ryder is trying to help us,” I said after we’d been walking for a while.

  “No, he’s helping you. He’s freaking out and can feel your unease. He is connected to you, and he feels everything you do right now. Trust me, he’s only cussing me out and threatening to geld my boys every time you feel afraid, or pain.”

  “Good to know,” I muttered as something shot past my head.

  “Fuck!” Ristan shouted, and took me to the ground.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Don’t move,” Ristan muttered as his immense body held me against the ground. “Someone just tried to blow your head off,” he growled from deep in his chest.

  “No shit, Sherlock,” I mouthed, and felt pain throbbing in my shoulder. I kept it to myself, but had a feeling Ryder would be cussing up a storm soon. Sure enough, within a second, Ristan stiffened up.

  “Dammit, Synthia! You’re hit,” he snarled as he rolled off me, and looked at my shoulder.

  “I’m fine; it’s a flesh wound.” I turned and glared at him. “Tell that fucking Fairy to shut it. It hurts and burns like the fires of Hades, but I’ll live.”

  “Let me see,” he said and moved to sit up.

  “Stay down! Someone is still shooting at us,” I whispered vehemently.

  “Good point,” he said, and lifted his head over my chest to look across the twisted vines of blood red roses. “Stay put, Flower. I’m going hunting.”

  “You’re leaving me here?” I complained.

  “Well yes. You are shot, and I have a very angry Horde King in my head telling me to gut the mother fucker who did it.”

  “Fine. I’ll be here, in the bushes, on the ground. Just laying here, waiting for you to come back with your big manly self.”

  He snorted and shook his thick mane of hair. “Promises, promises.” He kissed my cheek and left me on the ground. “Stay put, Princess, while I go slay the beast.”

  “Now who is making promises?” I teased to take off the edge of being planted on the ground with a painful shoulder. The bullet had only grazed me, though, and I was more worried about being left on the ground than I was anything else.

  I brought my hand up and ran it over the area which had been grazed and applied pressure. Whoever shot at me had crappy aim. I heard a scuffle, and then Ristan was back and ripping part of his cloak to make a field dressing.

  “He’s dead, but I think he was dead for a while before I got to him. Danu brought those who got lost in this place back to life to fuck with us.”

  “Peachy.” I ground my teeth together tightly, as he pressed the black coarse material to my arm and then tied it there. “Wait, if she is bringing those that got lost and died in the maze back to life, where they hell did they get the gun? I mean, if this place was shut down when Kier took his throne, that was centuries ago; way before firearms would have been around.”

  “Fuck if I know. Bermuda Triangle, perhaps? The one I killed—again—looked like a Spanish privateer. Can you walk?”

  “He grazed my shoulder, Demon, not my ass.”

  He laughed and the light caught his eyes and twinkled with humor. “Oh the things I could say to that,” he whispered as he helped me to my feet.

  I was barely upright when the next attack came. There were several men who looked just like Ristan had said my shooter looked. Their clothing was from the 1600s; cutlasses, old flintlock pistols, and decomposing faces. “Ristan,” I warned, as I looked at those coming closer to where we stood. “Are those Zombie pirates?” I asked, trying not to sound crazy.

  “What the hell?” Ristan asked as he reached for me, only to stop as a loud explosion sounded.

  We both ducked as what looked like a ghost cannon sent a round black ball sailing over our heads. “They’re firing cannons at us?” I asked in shock as guns were drawn from the sickly looking men who were growling, and making strange gurgling sounds.

  “Shit,” Ristan said, half laughing, half shock. “Syn, there’s too many of them. Get behind me.”

  I didn’t have time to reply as one of the Spanish pirates rushed at us. On instinct, I dropped and brought my foot out to trip him. When he was on the ground, Ristan brought out his wicked looking sword, and severed his head.

  Another
rushed in, this one with his gun pointing at my head. I dodged it easily, maneuvering around its sluggish gait. “They’re slow,” I blurted as I used the dagger to pierce its heart. “Ristan, they’re slow.”

  “No shit, but so are you!” he shouted as the cannon’s booming noise sounded again.

  “I’m not slow!” I growled as I took a second to level him with a killing glare.

  “Synthia!” he shouted as a zombie sifted in beside me. I turned quickly; avoiding the rusty sword it aimed at me, and made quick work of it. “You are pregnant, which makes you slow. Get behind me,” Ristan continued as he took out another zombie.

  I swung the short sword Ristan had given me at the beginning of the maze and decapitated another zombie. “Just because I’m pregnant, doesn’t make me slow, Demon!”

  He took out another zombie, and turned to give me a disgruntled look of irritation. “I like my head on my shoulders. If you so much as get a scratch on your delicate flesh, Ryder will remove it!”

  I rounded on him, and glared. I didn’t have time to argue, and the look on Ristan’s face confirmed it as I turned back around and swung the sword, taking two heads off with one swing. I was relieved that the zombies did not get back up once they had been dispatched. “Ryder knows I can take care of myself. You really think I’d let him remove your head?”

  “You really think he’d wait for your opinion if you were hurt? He’s unstable when it comes to you.”

  “Unstable?” I asked as I swung the blade again, severing yet another head. I looked at the blade, and then at Ristan. “These blades are wicked,” I mumbled as I watched him take out three zombies as easily as I had taken out the one. I looked around the dark green grass, to where the zombies were now all littered upon the ground.

  “Well, that was educational,” Ristan said, as he wiped his blade on one of the pirate’s jerkin. “Goddesses, Pirates, and Zombies, oh my!” he joked with a smile twisting his lips.

  “The Zombies were the pirates.” I smirked and took his lead in wiping off my own blade. The blood from the pirates was black, and just not natural. “These beings don’t belong to Faery. Look at this,” I said, reaching down to grab the pouch one of the zombies had tied to his belt. The pouch contained Spanish gold. “These are actual pirates,” I said in confusion.

  “Come,” Ristan replied, pulling me up to my feet from where I’d kneeled beside the pirate.

  “You having to help me up is really getting old, really fast,” I complained.

  “I don’t mind,” he replied, and we both stopped cold as another fork presented itself. The bushes parted to open up into a three way junction once again. “More riddles.”

  “Let’s hope there are fewer bullets on this one.”

  “Agreed,” he said as he bent low to retrieve the message. “Take the path for which you seek, but keep in mind, not all will take you to what you need. Illusions abound, tempt and deceive, and while men covet that which holds great beauty, humility is often the key to the King’s needs.”

  “Well that’s about a cluster hump of dumb luck,” I replied, smiling. “But seriously, that’s crap. I hate illusions,” I complained out loud.

  We walked through the maze for at least another hour that was slow and go, due to the pathway being lined with landmines for at least a quarter of a mile. I guess if the ancient Chinese could rig these nasty toys, so could the Fae.

  The maze finally ended in a square area that had many different items placed on pillars that had been made from the same shrubbery that formed the maze. Most of them shimmered, while others seemed more corporal. We’d arrived at the illusions for which the vellum spoke of.

  They were all cauldrons. Ryder and his men didn’t know which relic it was—the scroll just spoke to one of the legendary Fae treasures being hidden here, and as I scanned the cauldrons, I realized it was the fabled Dagda’s Cauldron. The stories said it was bottomless and no man was ever unsatisfied. The irony wasn’t lost on me that the maze only allowed someone who was once a witch and her bodyguard to go for a cauldron. Brilliant.

  “We have to choose?”

  “Very carefully,” Danu said, as she appeared in front of us from nowhere. “Choose wisely, for you only get once chance. If you choose poorly, the maze will start over and someone who awaits you outside will pay the price with their life.”

  I stared at her, seriously wanting to kick her ass, or have Ristan do it. Those choices sucked about as much as Indiana Jones uber fast-aging, head-exploding poor choices.

  I scanned the selection and looked back to Ristan, who was once again staring at Danu with a mixture of love and resentment. I ignored them both and searched through the relics, for the one true one.

  Most were made out of gold; one had even been made out of wood. There was one in which my eye kept going back to, but it was made from platinum and iron. They were all round in shape, and looked like bowls or basins.

  “Which will you choose, child?” Danu asked, as she walked over to me. “The gold is beautiful, is it not?”

  “It is, but the Fae have never really put a lot of stock in metals. The platinum would be the smarter choice, but again, it’s made of metal. No, the Fae of old kept their relics hidden in ancient settings. They were arrogant as a people, and sparkly, shiny things didn’t really sway them; they were typically into natural things. The staff was made from oak, and it wasn’t until Ryder held it, that anything happened and it transformed into its true shape and it was beautiful.” I looked around and found the wooden bowl, which was battered, but still intricate in the carvings that spanned the base. It was made of oak like the staff, and the Fae loved oak.

  It had too much fine detail, but beside it a few feet away was a rough, hand carved stone basin. The side was cracked, but it was natural, and even though it was plain in looks, it was still beautiful. “This one,” I said.

  “It’s broken, Synthia,” Ristan hissed beside me.

  “It is, but so is this world and it’s still beautiful. Like this bowl, it’s cracked and needs to be fixed. In the right hands, it’ll become beautiful and whole again.”

  “You choose wisely,” Danu said as she picked up the bowl, and it changed into a beautifully chiseled work of art. She handed it to Ristan carefully and turned to me. “You were the right choice for the Queen of Faery, Synthia. You see beyond the beauty of something, and into its heart. Keep to the path I have set, accept me, and you will be able to save your unborn babes. Stray and everything will be lost,” she said as her ice blue eyes slid down to my belly.

  “Let yourself be free here, Synthia. Find something worth fighting for, and those powers will come forth once you have embraced me and all that Faery has to offer. You have to trust what you are, and what you want the most, to find who you truly are.”

  And with that she disappeared, and I felt a weightlessness come over me. I screamed as the feeling of falling took hold of my body and mind, and then I crashed against something hard, and warm. I inhaled and looked into perfect golden eyes.

  Danu was wrong. I knew what I wanted, and I was already willing to fight for him.

  “Synthia,” Ryder growled from low in his chest and pulled me against him tightly. He pushed me away a second later and was undoing the Demons field dressing, and checking the graze.

  “It’s only a flesh wound.”

  “So I heard,” he replied and crushed his lips against mine.

  Yes, I had found something worth fighting for. I was going to fight to keep the elusive Horde King as my own. Every beauty needed a beast, and he was mine.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  *~*Ryder*~*

  She smiles, unaware of how close she and Ristan had come to death. I sifted the entire party of warriors back to the Horde Kingdom within seconds of her landing in front of me. Taking no chances that the enemies who had been trying to creep into camp, could lay eyes on my beautiful woman.

  She’s a weakness within me that I can’t explain. Her body grows ripe with my babes planted firm
ly within her. Never has a woman been more beautiful to me. The subtle change is there for the world to see, for Adrian to see.

  Her breasts ripen as her once slim abdomen grows round. It’s there, even though she’s only a little way into the pregnancy. Twins. Only my warrior queen could gift the Horde with the blessing of twin heirs. I should have known nothing with Synthia would be done in half measure.

  “You should get some rest,” I tell her, and watch as those beautiful eyes swing around to smile at me. She hates that I demand it, and I’m learning with her. “Lay with me, Pet. I’m in need of you.”

  She smiles, and that wicked little twinkle enters her vivid eyes. I reach out, and pull her against me. She moans. My dick jumps at the noise; such musical sounds she makes when I’m fucking her deep and hard with my cock.

  “I thought I lost you,” she whispers, and I tremble at the force her words have on me. She watched Ristan fight an image of me.

  “Never,” I assure her. “I’ll never leave you.”

  Never will I concede to death when she’s in my grasp. This beautiful creature is my match. She’s burrowed her way into my heart, and into my soul. Finding out she was mine, and was the one I’d been searching for in the Human world, was intoxicating. Watching her at my feet as she was given to me was the most exquisite feeling in the world.

  I run my hand over her swollen abdomen slowly. Knowing my children were safe within her was exhilarating, and yet scared me. I could lose them all, if the fates are cruel. Ristan has seen her with our son, but he hasn’t seen the other child. Nothing yet, anyway, and it bothers me to even comprehend what it could mean. The possibilities scare me, and nothing scares me but the idea of losing her. It fucking knocks the wind from my lungs.

  “How do you feel?” I ask, as I eye her bandage from where the bullet grazed her flesh. I place my hand over the strip and send a shot of power through her wound, helping her flesh to speed her healing time. I’d never been so fucking out of my mind as I was when she’d been inside that maze. Unable to see what was happening, what she was seeing. It was beyond torture leaving her in the hands of another, to depend on them for her survival.