by Bella Klaus
“Does that answer satisfy you?” he asked.
I raised a shoulder. “Not really.”
Epimetheus rolled his eyes. “Some gods used the creatures to escape, others scattered their ashes so they wouldn’t regenerate and cause a mass exodus,” he said with a long sigh. “When humans could no longer interact with our kind, they turned to the false religion, and the old gods weakened through the lack of worship. Some fell to cannibalism, most became devoured by beasts, and now I am one of few survivors.”
“Right.” I itched to know more about this Great Divide, but there were better things to ask.
“Your final question,” he snapped.
“How do I kill an immortal god?”
His eyes bulged. “You’re planning my death already?”
I flicked my head to the side. “Not you. Him.”
Epimetheus chuckled. “My brother’s already dead.”
“That eagle just ate his liver. He’s unconscious right now, but he’ll regenerate and take me back.” I batted my lashes. “Out of all his daughters, he favors me the most, and he’s so overprotective…”
His eyes left mine for several heartbeats to stare at the eagle, which was still plucking away at an unmoving Kresnik. “I see. You want him permanently dead?”
My insides cringed as I said the words, but it was the only way to escape this lunatic, ensure Kresnik was permanently dead, and return to Valentine. I peered up at Epimetheus from beneath my lashes. “It’s the only way we’ll be together.”
Epimetheus stood straighter, his shoulders pulling back and his chest expanding. “The bone or blood or bile of another god is the only way to ensure their permanent death.”
“I don’t understand how he killed that Python,” I said.
“Prometheus tore through Uncle with a sharpened stone soaked in his own blood,” he replied with a sob.
“I’m so sorry,” I murmured, meaning every word.
He nodded and sniffed.
“How long will it take before he wakes?” I whispered.
“A few minutes?”
I released the hand over my breasts and shook out my damp hair. “That’s enough time for you to take me where I stand, don’t you think?”
His gaze dropped to my nipples, and the corners of his lips turned upward into a smile. “You were wrong about me.”
“How so?” I rocked back and forth.
“I won’t leave you unsatisfied.”
“Well, my sexuality is linked to my magic. If I can’t gather enough power between my legs, it’s impossible for me to pleasure a man.”
With a snap of his fingers, the air thinned, and the power pushing down on mine released.
“Now then.” Epimetheus gathered up his beard, presumably to sling it over his shoulder.
I didn’t stick around long enough to see the horrors beneath that mass of matted hair. Fire burst from my skin, and I shifted into a phoenix.
He staggered back, his eyes wide. “You lied.”
With a victorious squawk, I raised my wings and launched myself to the cave’s ceiling. The air thickened, but I pushed hard against the ward, propelling myself up the shaft, flapping harder and harder against his tightening magic until I escaped.
Just like the vision Kresnik had shared with me, the sky was cloudless, an expanse of azure brightened by an unforgiving sun. It would have been the ideal summer holiday destination if the ground wasn’t such a barren wasteland.
Nothing grew there, not even a dried twig or a trace of tumbleweed. Brown rock stretched out for miles, as though the gods had eaten everything—all animals, all vegetation, even the soil. I glided across the smooth expanse, looking for… I wasn’t sure. A sign?
It was no wonder Kresnik had brought us to the underground cavern and no wonder he needed my help so desperately to return. Even the deserts I’d seen in documentaries had more life than this hellish landscape.
A guttural screech pierced the air, making glance back over my wings. The golden eagle flew toward me with the bearded freak riding on his back.
“Bloody hell,” I cawed under my breath and sliced my wings through the air. I wasn’t ready for an aerial battle, especially not with a creature known for eating the organs straight out of the bodies of its living victims.
“Hey,” Epimetheus hollered. “You owe me.”
I flapped harder, trying to increase the distance between me and my pursuers, but his eagle was half a foot taller than me with nearly double my wingspan. And he’d had eons more experience in flying.
Before I knew it, the air cooled and a shadow from above blocked the sun. My feathers bristled, and I clacked my beak. Bloody Epimetheus and his entitlement. He hadn’t even given me the choice to say no.
I swept downward, hoping to loop-the-loop and confuse the eagle into throwing off his hairy passenger, but the wretched bird followed my movements and kept up with my pace.
“You can’t fly around forever,” he yelled. “When you tire out, I’ll plunder your red minge and let my eagle have a go.”
The flames around my cheeks burned hotter. Did he have to be so crude?
I flew close to the ground, alongside a dry riverbed of pebbles and cracked stones that had to be the Thames. If the Realm of the Gods mirrored the Human World in terms of land masses, why was a Greek god all the way in Britain? Where were the old English gods like Britannia?
“She’s tiring,” Epimetheus yelled through panting breaths, sounding like he was enjoying the hunt. “Once we’ve had her, she can transport us to the Human Realm. How would you like that, Aetos? You and I will rule together.”
The eagle cawed his approval.
An annoyed growl warbled in the back of my throat. If I could speak in this form, I would tell the naive bird that the tears only worked for one god. Epimetheus was planning to leave this realm by himself and leave his feathered friend behind to feast on Kresnik.
A furious roar shook the air, followed by a plume of fire that spread across the skies.
I glanced over my shoulder to find a green dragon advancing on the eagle with eyes that blazed hotter than hell.
My beak dropped open. It looked like Kresnik had regenerated his liver, gotten over his trauma, and was now ready to kick someone’s feathery ass.
“Brother?” Epimetheus yelled.
Kresnik roared, the intensity of his fury making the air tremble.
My stomach lurched. I’d be angry, too, if someone had subjected me to my worst fear. Epimetheus had brought this mess on himself, and the last thing I wanted was to get stuck between that bearded freak and a raging dragon.
Up ahead, the ground sloped downward, forming a gentle valley, at the bottom of which stood a configuration of rocky structures the size of four and five-story buildings, arranged in three concentric circles. It reminded me of a monument like Stonehenge. Whatever its purpose might have been, there were enough loose rocks around it to form a hiding place for a five-foot-five creature like me.
Lightning flashed across the clear sky, shining brighter than the rays of the sun. Epimetheus cried, “Aetos and I command all the eagles in this realm, Brother. Come any closer, and they will descend upon you like locusts.”
A plume of fire filled the air, causing Aetos to squawk. I glanced over my shoulder to find that Epimetheus and the eagle had changed direction, and Kresnik was now following them. Black dots appeared on the horizon, which I guessed were more birds arriving for backup.
Good luck to them all.
I flapped even harder, faster, picking up speed and increasing the distance between what was going to be a one-sided battle featuring an insane Titan who was about to overcome his eagle phobia with dragon fire.
Swooping down, I flew parallel to the valley’s slope with my wings outstretched, and drifted over the air currents. Roars filled the sky—belonging both to Epimetheus and to the dragon. They mingled with the guttural cries of the eagles, but I didn’t dare waste time turning around.
If I could work out h
ow to break free of the Realm of the Gods before Kresnik had finished dealing with his brother and the birds, I might trap him here forever.
The tall structures I’d seen from a distance were cairns up close—small stones piled atop each other to create larger structures. They were dotted all over England, but this was the first time I’d seen so many close together, and it reminded me of the ancient circles we’d studied in the academy, circles that supernaturals of old had used to access higher levels of magic.
I flew over the first circle of cairns, then over the second, and over the smaller enclosure in the center, where the ground was etched with runes and glyphs and symbols too ancient for me to fathom.
At the other end of the circle was what I could only describe as an igloo of stone that stood about twelve feet tall. I knew better than to venture inside and disturb whatever horror lurked within its depths. Instead, I drifted over it and landed behind a pile of rubble, my talons hitting the hard stone.
A glance toward the skies told me the battle was in progress. Kresnik’s green dragon hovered in the air surrounded by eagles the same size as Aetos, some of them swooping on his head and trying to slash at his horns with their talons, others surging up from below, trying to peck at his underbelly.
“Bloody hell,” I squawked as a shudder ran across my flames.
In London, some lunatics would throw chunks of bread out on the street to attract pigeons, even though there were signs everywhere prohibiting people from feeding the flying vermin. On my first week in Grosvenor Square, I stumbled across a man sitting at a bench, dousing himself with crumbs. Pigeons perched all over him, seeming to eat him alive.
Kresnik was the dragon equivalent of the pigeon man, except he was fighting back.
I snatched my gaze away from the sight and inhaled a deep breath. What did I need to do?
One: cry as a phoenix and let the tears flow.
Two: wish the rift into existence.
Three: jump into the rift?
My beak made an annoyed clack. I should have stuck around for more instructions, even if it meant braving what lurked beneath that funky beard. Now I had to improvise.
I stared at the rocky ground and blinked over and over, waiting for the tears.
Nothing happened.
A furious roar tore through the air. My head snapped up to the sky, where four eagles fell to the ground, their bodies on fire.
Cold terror shuddered through my insides, making the flames of my plumage flicker. Bloody hell. Kresnik was winning faster than I’d anticipated.
Turning back to the rocky ground, I inhaled another deep breath, this time thinking of everything I would lose if I remained in this realm. I’d never see Beatrice again. Never know if Lazarus was able to restore her youth. I’d never see Kain grow to become a full vampire, and I’d never get to play with Macavity or help him fulfill his purpose for returning to the Human Realm.
The backs of my eyes grew hot, and the flames across my cheeks flared. If I stayed here, I’d never know what happened to Valentine. He had followed us across London, dodging Kresnik’s fireballs, then suddenly stopped.
My throat thickened. Kresnik wouldn’t tell me what had happened. Maybe he wanted to break the news when he was ready to activate the rift.
Tears blurred my vision, evaporating as they spilled down my cheeks. I leaned forward, letting them splatter onto the ground, but no matter how much I cried, the drops of water just remained there.
I still didn’t know what had become of Aunt Arianna and the rest of the coven. Even if the people at the Atlantis Exchange got hold of her, my phone was missing. Did she manage to leave Great Britain, or was Hades keeping her in Hell as a hostage? If I didn’t find a way out of this realm, I would never know her fate.
More tears fell, and my mind drifted back to Valentine—all versions of the man I loved. Alive, newly risen from the dead, the tyrant, the loving soul, and the incarnation with the broom up his ass. Life could be so unfair. It had taken so much effort to restore him, only for Kresnik to tear us apart. Again.
Right now, I would give anything to see him again, and I wished the ground would open up and take me to him.
The earth rumbled beneath my talons, accompanied by the sound of stone twisting and grinding and cracking. Blinding light filled my vision, making me stumble back with my wings outstretched.
Blinking away my tears, I gaped at a three-foot-wide fissure in the ground, which spewed out crimson and green and indigo light.
My heart somersaulted, and my chest swelled with warm jubilation. I’d bloody done it. Without a backward glance, I pulled back my wings, and tumbled forward into the void, and into the unknown.
Chapter Four
This time, waking was a slow process, with a confusion of sounds ringing from ears that seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at once. It was dark, but the hurried footsteps, screaming voices, sirens, and distant traffic told me that it was likely daytime, and I was certainly not alone.
I tried opening my eyes but couldn’t send the commands to the muscles of my face. All I felt of myself were a few stray meridians and chakras trying to re-form.
If I had lungs, I would have blown out a weary breath. The impact of landing from the Realm of the Gods must have scattered my flames further than the impact of Kresnik’s bomb. It was a good thing I’d landed as a phoenix. Otherwise, I’d be dead or mangled or both.
It took several minutes to gather my flames from countless locations and pull them back into my energy body. As my pieces glided into place, screams filled the air, accompanied by the hiss of water. The sound reminded me of ironing over a dampened cloth.
I rolled to the side to find a row of firefighters in black uniforms and yellow helmets standing behind rectangular shields. Several feet behind them were a line of police officers in riot gear, holding transparent round shields, staring at me through the plastic visors of their helmets. They stood behind a cordon of two parallel rows of metallic frontier barriers filled with sandbags.
White police vans were parked behind the officers, and behind those, I caught hordes of reporters and people holding smartphones and glimpses of a vast park, which could be anywhere in Great Britain.
My beak parted to let out a groan. This was beyond a disaster. They’d never seen anything supernatural, let alone a phoenix.
A jet of something cold and foamy landed on my back, making me squeeze my eyes shut as the substance evaporated on contact with my flames, releasing the acrid scent of burned chemicals.
I shifted onto my back, stretching out my restored limbs, making sure to curl my talons to check that they felt alright, shrug my wings, and search for stray pieces of phoenix debris that hadn’t yet returned to my body. It felt like I was intact, but how the hell was I going to get out of this situation?
“Everybody evacuate,” bellowed a voice over the loudspeaker. “The disturbance is on the move.”
A helicopter swooped close, making me flinch.
“Get back, or you’re all under arrest,” the announcer yelled.
I exhaled a long breath, wondering if it contained the same crew who had captured footage of Kresnik and me flying to Trafalgar Square.
Sharp beeps pierced the air, and I opened my eyes again and turned to the source of the noise. Several feet beyond the rows of emergency services personnel surrounding me, a massive crane hoisted Kresnik’s dragon form several feet in the air. Thick straps wrapped around his scaly belly and chest with his twisted limbs and broken wings hanging limply at his sides.
My beak parted to let out a shocked breath, and I bolted upright, making the firefighters and police scream.
A gunshot rang through the air, and a bullet shot through my belly and melted between my legs into a pool of rubber.
“Hold fire,” shouted the voice over the loudspeaker. “Employ hoses.”
Jets of water hit me from all directions, sizzling on contact with my flames. I raised my head to the sky, looking for signs of enforcers, reapers—any ki
nd of representative from the Supernatural Council, but found only clouds and a plane blazing a chemtrail across the sky.
Bugger. It looked like I was handling this all alone.
As I leaped into the air, the humans peppered my body with bullets, which felt as insignificant as flea bites—mildly irritating, but with potential consequences if I didn’t stop these attacks.
An even more powerful jet of water hit my tail feathers, making me lose altitude. Screams tore across the park, and the onlookers screamed and scattered.
“Stop,” the amplified voice shouted.
“As if!” I screeched back.
I soared high over the cordons, over the rows of fire-fighters, police, and the crowd of people holding recording equipment. The crane that carted Kresnik’s unconscious carcass rumbled down a two-lane road bisecting the park, followed by the truck taking him to goodness knows where.
The rooftops of Kensington Palace lay on my left, its grounds surrounded by armored green vehicles. To my right stood Marble Arch, giving me my bearings. I was back in Hyde Park, heading toward Notting Hill.
An annoyed caw slipped from my beak. How considerate of Kresnik to hitch a ride and ruin my descent so I’d fall unconscious in the heart of London. I hoped the scientists dissected him before he regained consciousness.
Cars on Bayswater Road swerved into each other, people fell off bikes and walked into the road, and the buses ground to an abrupt halt. This was chaos.
Instinct told me I should duck behind the trees and shift back into a woman to minimize the number of people seeing my phoenix, but common sense said that the images people had shot were already all over social media. I needed to run before the enforcers caught up with me and the Council sentenced me to death.
It was time to disappear, but where?
A dark figure raced toward me from below, clad in a reaper cloak. My heart somersaulted, and I peered down to check that he wasn’t carrying a scythe.
“Mera.” Valentine pulled down his hood.
All the tension I’d held at bay melted off me in a relieved breath. He had survived Kresnik’s fireballs and had even tracked me down to the park. My beak opened to say his name, but I ended up making a garbled caw.
