by S T Branton
The crowd surged forward and bustled me roughly along. Amber grabbed my wrist to keep us from getting separated. We ended up crammed against the far side of the pen. My cheek pressed briefly against the bars, and I noticed something that made me pause and stare.
Off to the side, a host of gods waited. They all looked incredibly awkward like they were at a party full of guests they didn’t know. Most constantly cast fearful glances in the direction of the boulder that weighed the water god down. They would’ve had to walk past it to reach the place where they stood.
I was sure Delano had done that deliberately. He was a big fan of sending messages. Now, I had one for him.
The ocean of bodies around Amber and me jostled relentlessly as more and more humans and Forgotten entered the pen. The air smelled like sweat, fur, fear, and who knew what else. The longer I stayed there and endured the constant push and thrust, the thinner my already worn patience stretched. Finally, I dragged my hands down over my face and groaned. I couldn’t take it anymore. It was find Deacon or bust.
I nudged Amber. “Hey, get into position as best you can and wait for a signal,” I told her. “It should be relatively easy in this mess. There’s no way for them to keep an eye on you for long.”
Amber nodded. “Okay. Although I have to say that I feel some hardcore déjà vu right now.”
Her words barely registered as I eased through the cover provided by the massive group. The temple loomed to my right, but I needed a way out of the pen first. Near the farthest back corner, I encountered a small commotion. Security dragged some beefy, horned lunkhead away. One of his horns had broken off at the curve. I looked at him as he was carried past and then in the direction he’d come from. There was a noticeable chip in one of the metal bars, and one of them was bent—not significantly so but enough for me to squeeze through. The fit was tight and it put way too much pressure on the gash in my leg. I powered through the pain and slid out on the other side.
Only a few people had seen me and most of them instantly pretended not to. One woman glanced at the small gap as if she wanted to follow. After a moment’s thought, she whipped around to face forward. I ducked away as a guard strolled past to make sure the disturbance had really been settled.
Close call, Marcus remarked. He sounded amused rather than scolding. To the end, you live on the knife’s edge.
“You know what they say,” I told him. “To thine own self be true.”
He scoffed. No one has said that for thousands of years.
It felt really good to break out of that claustrophobic prison, but I was nervous to be out in the open. No cover existed on the plateau except for the boulder, and that was too far away to be a practical option. I was more or less completely exposed.
“Hey, lady!” Some of the captives still on the inside tried to get my attention. They pointed forward toward the corner I now approached and mouthed the word “guard.” I froze and listened intently. Sure enough, heavy footsteps sounded on the adjoining side and moved steadily closer. The prisoners shuffled to make space, which I didn’t understand at first. Then it occurred to me that they expected I would give up and try to return to the pen before I was discovered.
Instead, I gave them a thumbs-up and whispered, “Thank you!”
I ran to meet the guard head on and kept the spear hidden as long as I could until my gaze locked onto his big, ugly face. He was some kind of armored golem, bigger than the ones I’d seen in DC and far meaner. He grinned when he saw me.
Still in motion, I grinned back. He grabbed with one huge hand but I hopped nimbly out of his grasp, drew the spear back, and forced it between his teeth. The blood that gurgled out of his throat cut off any kind of death scream and he dropped like a sack of bricks. I plucked my spear out, vaulted over the body, and went on my way.
None of the prisoners made a sound. Their overwhelming passivity now worked in my favor. Still, I was happy when I could veer away from the side of the pen and angle toward the temple itself. From what I could see, it seemed like the front entrance was the only one and at first, my heart sank. Delano might not have posted anyone there on my first visit, but now that he was looking for me, he had to have increased the guard presence. I hesitated and my mind raced before an idea pushed into clarity. I glanced at the spear. “Man, I hope this works.”
The wall of the temple was made of fancy, polished stone, but it was no match for a Solis weapon. The spear stuck solidly immediately below the slanted edge of the roof. I wasted a fraction of a second while I wondered if it would hold before I decided it didn’t matter. I would do this anyway. With a deep breath, I held my hand up, palm out, and willed myself to join the spear rather than the other way around.
“Please work,” I whispered and scrunched my eyes shut. “Please—” In an instant, my body dangled over open air and I instinctively closed my fingers around the shaft of the weapon in the nick of time. I braced my feet against the top of the wall, climbed onto the roof, crouched down, and pulled my spear free.
Very good, Victoria! Marcus said proudly. Your innovation can be quite impressive.
I frowned. “I must ask that you not give me a performance review while I try to save lives.” One life, specifically. One very important life. “We’ll talk about a promotion after this is over.”
With the spear slung onto my back, I dropped prone and crept along the roof on my stomach while I kept the spread of the plateau in my periphery. Guards circled the pen like sharks, inside and outside. They continued to thrust prisoners in through the gate like livestock held for slaughter.
A domed skylight was positioned in the center of the temple roof. It was dark, however, and as I leaned close to peer through the glass, I realized that it was too high up for the light in the lower part of the hall to reach. The sheer vertical distance made me nervous, but I thought back to my plane ride and my stormy climb in the Himalayas. Delano’s temple was nothing compared to that.
With the edge of the spear, I cut a hole carefully in the curved glass large enough for me to fit through and managed to prevent the loose piece from falling. Awkwardly, I slid it aside and rested it on the roof. I put my head in first to try to determine the best way to enter. One of the pillars made from gods stood directly in front of me and I looked into the petrified eyes of a beautiful, silver-skinned nymph. “Sorry,” I said as I hurled the spear at her. It sank home with a soft clunk, and I put my hand out and pulled myself inside.
Chapter Thirty-Four
I clung onto the side of the pillar with my spear in hand and ignored the fact that I was about two inches from what might be construed as a make-out session with a dead god. Because it was comprised entirely of corpses, the pillar provided many uneven surfaces for me to use as handholds. Once I’d stowed my spear on my back, I started to clamber down. I could have been more careful about it, but most of my brain and common sense had been swamped by my need to reach Deacon. It was hard not to picture the way his face looked in the mirror—so full of pain and suffering.
In my heart, I had known immediately that he was dying but I refused to accept it. I was determined that his death would not become a reality. He was the one person I absolutely could not lose.
I maintained a half-wary lookout for guards during my hurried descent and landed to push myself immediately into a run. No footsteps charged after me, so I didn’t bother to look back. As I darted out of the central hall, I yanked the mirror shard from my coat pocket and looked at it. Deacon was there but only for a split second. He vanished in an instant.
“Come on, come on,” I muttered under my breath. “Show me where they are.” The image lurched to reveal a glimpse of a doorway recessed into one of the walls. The frame had a distinct pattern that set it apart from the surrounding wall. I glanced up in the exact instant in which I raced past it.
There!
My boots actually squealed to a stop. I flung myself at it and shoved against the door itself with all my might. It had no visible handle and it didn’t bu
dge at all. “Fucking move!” I demanded. My face flushed with exertion and frustration and all my power channeled into the barrier. The blood raged through my veins.
At last, it creaked open—not very much, but it was sufficient. I squeezed through that gap so fast, I almost tumbled down the steps directly behind it. These descended into a weird, rounded dungeon room. Bloodstains pooled and manacles littered the floor and walls. Otherwise, the chamber stood empty.
I froze for a moment and strained to hear over my own heart pounding and heavy breathing. No sound rewarded my attempt. Scraps of material were scattered on the floor around my feet, and I bent to pick one up. My fingers brushed a swatch of red leather and I cursed.
What did you find?
“This is part of Jules’s jacket,” I said. “She’s had it since college. I’d know it if I was fucking blindfolded.”
The rage swelled within me once more. I spun and moved back the way I had come, taking the curving staircase two steps at a time. Every passing minute challenged my ability to remain stealthy more and more. It would undeniably help me to remain undetected, but I also welcomed the idea of a fight.
The center hall was still empty when I came back in. I was at the back now, and to my right was the door from which Delano had emerged before. It was ornately carved with portraits of eyes, snakes, bats, and twisted trees that bore dark and ominous fruit. I grabbed the heavy brass handle and pulled, even though I expected it to be locked.
It wasn’t. The door swung back to reveal a study that oozed luxury. The back wall housed a gigantic window that provided a view of only barren cornfields. The space in front of it was dominated by a sleek black desk, its surface spotlessly clean. The chair was missing, but a tall, humanoid figure dressed in black lingered on the opposite side, silhouetted by the light that streamed in through the glass.
I drew my spear and shifted it in my hands. The moment of truth was upon me. I walked forward and opened my mouth to issue a challenge.
The man turned, and the words stuck in my throat. He wasn’t Delano at all.
“Deacon?” My hands began to tremble. “What…what the hell happened to you?” His face was unmistakable, but the rest of him screamed an obvious contradiction. Heavy dark wings sprouted from his broad shoulders and horns curled from the sides of his forehead. He stared at me through eyes as black as night, like Brax’s. All the warmth they had always held was gone.
“You know what happened,” he said. I winced. He still had his own voice, but each word rode an edge of ice. “Say it. I want to hear you tell me what I am.”
My insides swam in a cold, churning soup. I didn’t want to capitulate to his demands, but more than that, I didn’t want to fight him. I licked my lips. The words moved like molasses on my tongue. “He made you an Apprenti,” was what I finally stammered into the unbearable stillness between us. “Deacon—”
“What did you expect?” He strode forward and slammed his hand down on the desk. “You abandoned us, Vic. I jumped in front of that blade to save you—to buy you time—and you repaid me with cowardice. I forced him to spare your life, only for you to run away. You left us to die.” The force of his anger glowed from the depths of his demon eyes with an unearthly light. He had never been angry at me. Not like this.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “We stood no chance.”
He glowered but his ire seemed to die down. I watched him straighten the lapels on his suit the same way he had so many other times. “No,” he said. “You’re right. We didn’t. We were pathetic little sacks of meat and bones who played at games far too large for us to comprehend. But Delano took pity on me. He showed me the truth, Vic.”
“Oh, no.” A searing knot formed in the back of my throat. “Deacon, no.”
He continued as if I hadn’t spoken at all. “Power is the true path,” he declared. A slow smile bloomed across his features and the effect was uncanny. He looked like a mocking caricature of himself. “It’s the only way. If we stay as we are and continue to foolishly pursue our small-minded human goals, we will be doomed to repeat the same cycles forever—or until we are exterminated. Whichever happens first.” He moved around the desk toward me. “But Delano is proof that we don’t need to be tethered to a miserable existence. He was human too.”
“I know.” I spoke softly. To even look at Deacon was horribly painful, and yet I couldn’t tear my gaze away. How could this have happened?
He spread his arms wide. “And look at him now. All of this for a man who was once a simple Apprenti, like me.”
“You’re not a fucking Apprenti, you asshole!” I burst out. Tears welled in my eyes but I held them back. “You had a choice.”
Deacon advanced on me, his clawed hands balled into fists. “You left me none,” he said.
Victoria. Marcus’s voice was low and somber in my head. I knew what he would say before he said it. Although it is difficult, you must kill him. The Deacon you know is gone, replaced by a fiend who cannot—and must not—be trusted.
The tears escaped and slid down my cheeks. “I can’t,” I said. “I can’t.”
Deacon leapt for my throat. I dodged to the side and he managed only to knock my arm. The spear burned fiercely in my grip and washed his face in fiery light. His eyes reflected nothing. They remained empty and hard, trained on me as he swung at my head.
“Deacon!” I parried his strike with the spear. Part of his jacket sleeve burned away and exposed grey-tinted skin. He hissed. “Stop, I don’t want to do this.”
He smirked. “It’s too late, sweetheart. You should’ve thought about that while you ran away with your tail between your legs.” His tone made the phrase sound vulgar. “All that’s left to do is reap what you sowed. Let’s get this over with, shall we?”
His massive wings beat to create a wall of wind that slammed me back toward the study door. I drove the point of the spear into the floor. The good old golden shield sprang up around me, and the wind sheared away as Deacon lunged.
Inside the protective dome, I waited with my hand on the spear and tracked the arc of his jump. At its zenith, I yanked the spear from its anchoring point. The shield exploded up and out and he was caught in its concussive shockwave, his momentum redirected toward the wall. I thought it would knock him out. I was wrong.
The bastard impacted with the marble and still landed on his feet. He brushed dust from his suit as he straightened. In a flash, he was on me again. The wings made it feel like he towered over my head until he picked me up by the neck. “Better than I thought,” he admitted. “But not good enough.”
I kicked fiercely at him and clawed at his face with one hand. The other tried in vain to loosen his grip. Deacon had been strong in his normal form but with the addition of Apprenti powers, he might as well have held me up with an iron vice. The edges of my vision greyed out. I felt my eyes bulge from the pressure.
“How does it feel?” he sneered and drew me in closer. “I guess I should really thank you for helping me to understand why Delano loves to watch the life drain from people’s eyes. I have to admit, it’s enthralling.”
I responded by kicking him in the balls as hard as I possibly could. He dropped me and doubled over.
“Yeah,” I said and coughed around a ragged breath. “Delano didn’t think of that shit, did he? Fucker.” I still loved Deacon deeply, but I had no issues with a few choice curses after he’d made a frighteningly powerful attempt to choke the shit out of me. He rolled onto his side, protecting his groin. It was my turn to walk up on him.
“You deserved that,” I told him. “Quit being a dick.”
He groaned and grabbed at me. I dipped nimbly to the side and knocked him away with the spear. Another portion of his sleeve vaporized. He surged upward to pull me off balance, but I was ready. Half a second later, I had him pinned and he grunted as he attempted to thrash himself free.
“Damn dirty fighter,” he growled.
I smiled sweetly. “You used to love that about me.” It hurt my heart to bante
r this way with Deacon like he was merely another disposable vamp. But if I stopped to think too hard about where I was and what I was doing, I knew I’d freeze. He had made it abundantly clear that I shouldn’t trust him to be merciful.
Now, Victoria, Marcus insisted. Do it. Be strong.
I clutched the spear and held it above his heart. Deacon smiled up at me. “You look exactly like him,” he said.
I scowled. “Fuck you.” Stupidly, unable to resist a sudden compulsion that swept over me, I dropped the spear and kissed him. His whole body went rigid. The claws on his hands tore at my coat. It was, I thought with some vague logic, much like kissing a charged wire.
Until he kissed me back.
The change that spread through him was ethereal and strange. Something unspeakable fled from him and seemed to dissipate into the chamber. We lay together on the study floor for what seemed like a lifetime of forevers, our lips locked firmly together. When I made myself pull back for air, his eyes opened.
They were brown.
“There you are,” I said fondly.
He said. “I’m sorry, Vic. Shit, I’m so sorry.” Deacon sat up and wrapped his arms around me. “It was me talking, but it wasn’t me. That sick son of a bitch had me trapped in my own head.”
I nuzzled his neck. “Don’t worry about it. I’m simply glad to have you back.”
“I’m glad to be back.” He ran his fingers gingerly through my hair. “Real glad.”
Marcus cleared his throat. In this case, I am more than happy to have judged in error. But I hope you have not forgotten the deranged god who is no doubt still searching for you.
“Ugh,” I said. “That guy.” I climbed off Deacon and stood. “Stay here. I’m gonna go take care of our big problem in little Indiana.”
“No way.” He pushed to his feet. “Last time I left your side, I ended up looking like Dracula’s understudy. We’ll do this one together.”
I smiled at him. “I always hoped you’d be open-minded enough to say that.”
