by Anna Argent
Denial surfaced again, this time it brought with it a hot rush of anger. “That’s not going to happen to Eliana. I won’t let it.”
“It’s not your choice. Never has been.”
Was Argo right? Was Eliana worse off than Garrick thought? Was he simply seeing what he wanted to see, ignoring the signs that the woman he loved was using herself up?
“I’ll lock her up if I have to,” Garrick said. “I won’t let her kill herself the way her mother did.”
She’d healed and healed, until her own body gave out from all the injuries it had sustained.
“The way they all do,” Argo corrected. “At least her mom lasted long enough to have two kids. Do you have any idea how rare that is?”
He didn’t care about that. All he cared about was Eliana.
“I’m older than you. I watched it happen,” Argo said. “Once she started going downhill, she went fast.”
“Eliana is young and strong. She has years left to live.” An entire lifetime if Garrick had anything to say about it.
“Maybe,” Argo said. “Or maybe you should send someone to find Poppy. Just in case.”
He walked off to take care of their newest prisoner, leaving Garrick feeling sick with panic and worry.
He put his hand on the knob of the pale blue door leading to Eliana’s suite and turned the knob. It didn’t budge.
As far as he knew, she’d never locked her door before.
He hated bothering her, but he had to see her with his own eyes. He had to know that Argo was worried over nothing.
Garrick tapped lightly on the door and waited. After a few minutes, he knocked again, louder. Still nothing.
After half an hour of intermittent knocking, he wanted to break down the door. Instead, he convinced himself that she was fine, just sleeping hard after exerting herself.
He’d try again later, in a few hours. And if that didn’t work, he’d use a key and let himself in.
***
Eliana found the strength to text Garrick, but even that was almost more than she could manage. She told him she was sleeping and would come find him when she felt better.
She hated lying to him like that, but she had no other choice. As soon as he saw her ruined eye, he’d blame himself. And he’d know.
Healers like her never lived long. At twenty-five, she was already one of the oldest of her kind.
The signs that she was running out of time were everywhere. Healing was harder and took more out of her. She no longer felt like herself on the inside, as if all the cellular trauma she’d forced herself to endure had altered her on a fundamental level. Her body was covered in scars she hadn’t been able to banish, though she’d done her best to keep those hidden under her clothing.
So much for that now. Anyone who saw her now would know her days were numbered.
It’s time, her mother’s voice whispered to her, soft and gentle.
Eliana knew what she meant.
It was time to pass the torch. Time to tie up loose ends.
Time to prepare herself to die.
After a few more minutes, Eliana found the strength to send one more text, this time to her sister, Poppy.
There was no fooling herself that her sister wouldn’t know what she meant, what she needed. It had always been a matter of time until Poppy’s life was no longer her own.
The only question was, how hard would her willful sister fight before she accepted her unwanted fate.
Time to come home.
The message lingered on her screen. Little dots flashed below it, indicating her sister was typing a response.
It was as swift as it was unexpected.
On my way.
***
Phoenix knelt on the stone floor of the small room she used to commune with Magus. The cramped space, carved out of solid stone, was in the lowest level of the Vires compound, deeper even than the dungeon she used to house Riven prisoners. No one came here to this private place but her. Few even knew it existed, and even fewer had enough pieces of the powerful Lord Magus inside them to see the door to the chamber.
This place was hers and his alone and the intimacy of that stroked across her skin like a lover’s caress every time she entered.
She was naked and shaking with fear of his displeasure. A perfect ring of water in the center of the room rippled, though she couldn’t tell if it the disturbance was caused by her trembling breath, or by Magus’ anger. Only the steady, purple flame of the candle inside that ring of water reassured her that all would be well. Lord Magus would forgive her.
After she was punished for her failure, of course.
The rough, stone floor dug into her knees. She kept her head bowed, her body as relaxed as she could manage. What would happen, would happen. She was locked inside this room with Magus now, the door bolted. There was no way to escape his wrath, even if she wanted to.
Phoenix didn’t know how long she waited. There was no sense of time in this dark place. Perhaps Magus was trying to control his anger before speaking to her. Or maybe the wait was part of her punishment.
She’d been instructed by Magus to capture Hedy all those years ago, when the girl was alone on the streets, unprotected after her adoptive mother’s death. So that’s what Phoenix had done. She’d found the girl and brought her here.
Then Phoenix had been ordered to break Hedy, control her, earn her trust.
It had taken years, but Phoenix had done as she’d been told to do, torturing and killing Hedy every day for years before pretending to save her. By that time, Hedy’s mind—what was left of it after being ravaged by death, pain fear and her deranged shards—had been broken down into a fine grain. Malleable. Useful.
Phoenix had taken those grains and shaped them into something new, something loyal and trusting. A creature used to do Magus’ bidding.
Then, as Magus had ordered, Phoenix had sent the new Hedy out into the world to collect all the shards belonging to the Witch of the Pageant.
Whenever Hedy stumbled, Phoenix offered support. Whenever she was weak, Phoenix gave her sacrifices of people she could kill—people filled with shards meant to strengthen her. Whenever she was afraid, Phoenix offered comfort and reassurance, the way any good mother would.
In the end, all of that effort—all those years of resisting the urge to kill the girl and absorb the power she carried—had been for nothing. Hedy had failed to bring home the witch’s shards.
But Phoenix was the one who would be held responsible for the failure.
Anticipating what Magus would do to her made a cold sweat trickle down her back. Goosebumps rose along her arms, but her body was too afraid of what was coming to shiver, as if it knew it would soon need all the strength it could find to survive.
The purple flame flickered, then the room filled with a powerful presence so potent if seemed solid. She breathed it in, letting it fill her lungs like wet cement. She lifted her arms and spread her legs so it could surround her more fully.
Everywhere Magus touched her, she burned. Everywhere he touched her, she felt the most exquisite pleasure she’d ever known.
She reveled in it for only a moment before she forced herself to accept her fate.
“I have failed you,” she whispered, her voice filled with shame and self-loathing.
Magus’ presence tightened around her, a little like a hug and a lot like a threat.
You did as you were told, he said.
“But Hedy failed to collect all of Hazel’s shards. And she is now a prisoner of our enemy.”
She is where I want her to be.
That surprised Phoenix. She’d thought that Magus confided in her and only her. She thought that she knew his plans, his desires. But she hadn’t known that he wanted Hedy to be captured by the Riven. She hadn’t known his end game.
He hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her, and that hurt worse than any punishment he’d inflicted upon her so far.
“And the locket?” she asked, her voice a faint, trembling
thread of sound.
Will be ours soon, as will the witch within.
Phoenix frowned in confusion. The Riven had the locket. They weren’t going to simply hand it over because Magus wanted it.
She bit her tongue to keep from asking how they’d manage to obtain the locket.
Magus wasn’t fond of questions, especially those regarding his decisions or plans.
She waited in silence, hoping he would ask something else of her. She craved to be of service to him, to be used by him. That’s when she felt close to him. Almost as close to him as she was when he was punishing her, her body twisted in agony by the touch of his hand.
Magus’ presence slid over her skin, slick and reptilian. Powerful. All she could think about was how she could get more of him inside her, where she could hold onto him forever.
You have done well, Magus said within her mind. I am pleased.
The praise made her tremble with ecstasy. Her entire body lit up and vibrated, lifting from the ground in joy.
Magus had recently gifted her with the ability to fly, and she couldn’t help but use it now in the face of his pleasure with her.
“Please let me serve you again, Lord Magus. Let me do your bidding.”
Is that what you really want?
“More than anything.”
Are you sure? He asked as if she were a child caught lying. You came here for something else.
“I came here to accept my punishment for failing you.”
The purple flame rippled in excitement. The water in the ring seethed as if tossed by a tiny storm.
Punishing her was what he wanted. She could feel his anticipation of the act vibrating all around her.
Part of her wanted that too—the intimacy of the pain he inflicted, the feel of his touch on her body, his joy in response to her agony, her screams. Her pain was his pleasure, and she wanted nothing more than to please him.
She was as terrified of what he might do as she was thrilled that she could offer him something, anything. “I am yours, Lord Magus. Do with me as you will.”
Phoenix felt his smile an instant before the first bite of pain lashed against her skin.
***
Echo watched Hedy through the solid glass wall that held her caged.
The prison below Asgard was bigger than she’d expected, with several long hallways lined with cells. She’d passed by lots of empty ones and one that had inside a hunched, old man reading an encyclopedia.
Echo didn’t even know they still made those things.
Argo had escorted her down here, warning her not to speak to anyone but Hedy. Echo had heard the voices of several people yelling, but the sounds were so muffled she wasn’t able to make out any of the words.
Probably for the best. This place was filled with evil so potent there was no other place to put it—no place designed to hold such raw, malevolent power.
Argo made her sit outside while he cleaned Hedy’s scrapes, stripped her naked and then laid her on the bed under a blanket. Echo almost protested, but before she could, he told her that she could have something dangerous on her body, and that it was standard procedure to make sure that didn’t happen—that she couldn’t hurt herself.
He left and came back a minute later with a small stack of clothes—scrubs in Hedy’s size. Those went into a small compartment in the glass like an airlock. There was a door on her side too, though the mechanism connecting the two doors made Echo think that only one could be opened at a time.
When he was done, the giant albino stared down at her until she looked up at him.
“What?”
He nodded to Hedy. “She saved your life. Try not to repay her by making her regret it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that she’ll never again be the person who saved you. The person she is now, after absorbing all those dark shards is not going to love you enough to give her life for you again. That Hedy is gone. Dead. Respect her sacrifice and move on with your life.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“It’s not,” he said as if he knew. “It’s the hardest thing you’ll ever have to do. But you have no choice.”
He walked off then, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Too many thoughts.
Echo didn’t know how long she’d been down here when Hedy finally stirred.
There was a button on the wall near the glass—one Argo had said would allow them to hear each other.
She rose stiffly to her feet and pressed it. “Hedy? Can you hear me?”
Hedy turned her head toward the sound and blinked. She shielded her eyes from the bright, overhead light. “Echo?”
Relief flooded her. Hedy’s brains hadn’t been scrambled. She sounded like herself.
“I’m here.” Tears filled Echo’s voice against her will.
Hedy got to her feet, saw she was naked, and didn’t seem to care. “Where am I?”
Echo wasn’t allowed to say. That was part of the deal. If she broke the rules, she would never be allowed to see her sister again.
“You’re somewhere safe now.”
She came to the glass, close enough that her breasts pressed flat against it. Her face was still and smooth. There was no sign of emotion on her face. “Why am I in here? How do I get out?”
“You can’t get out. Not yet.”
Not ever.
But Echo couldn’t bring herself to say those words. What if Argo was wrong? What if Eden, who’d touched her once and flinched, was wrong? What if Hedy was still good?
Her voice was cold, hard. “Open the door, Echo.”
“I can’t. I don’t have a key.”
“Then get one.” The words were spaced out, clipped and demanding.
“Are you in pain?” Echo asked, hoping to change the subject. “I can ask for something to help.”
“Pain doesn’t bother me. Being caged against my will does.”
“I’m sorry, Hedy. It’s for your own good.”
She cocked her head to the side. The look in her blue eyes was speculating, as if she were wondering how Echo’s skin would look as a jacket.
Then again, maybe that was just her imagination.
“Why did you kill him?” Echo asked. “Why did you save me?”
Hedy frowned then, and a flicker of the girl she used to be crossed her soft features. “I—I don’t know.”
…she’ll never again be the person who saved you…. That Hedy is gone. Dead. Respect her sacrifice and move on with your life.
Could Echo do that? Could she abandon Hedy after what she’d done and just forget about her?
“How can I help you?” Echo asked, aching to take it all back, to go back in time and save her sister from making such a huge mistake.
“You can let me out.”
“I can’t. That’s not in my power to give.”
“Then you’re of no use to me.” Hedy turned her back and began studying the confines of her cell.
There was a toilet, a sink and a shower. A tiny bottle of liquid soap sat on a shelf recessed into the wall. Everything was steel and concrete. Even the bedding was a drab gray. Only the scrubs held any color at all, those a bright, fluorescent yellow.
Easy to see if someone escaped, no doubt. Not that anyone could. This place was locked down tight, with three layers of security to get through before reaching the ground level. And on the other side of that were several magically armed badasses.
The idea of going through Argo was more than a little intimidating.
If Echo couldn’t free Hedy, maybe she could help her pass the time.
“Do you remember when we were kids?” Echo asked. “We rarely stayed in one place long enough to rent an apartment, but Mom always found a way to make life on the run feel like an adventure.”
“Cadence was an idiot who believed that she could actually protect us. Obviously, she failed.”
Echo flinched. The sliver of herself that was Mom did the same.
Lift your voic
e in song.
The gentle urging brushed against Echo’s mind like her mother’s fingers trailing through her hair.
Singing had seemed to calm Hedy before. Maybe it would now.
“Do you remember that song she used to sing us?” Echo asked, and without an answer, began to sing the tune that Mom had probably made up for her girls.
“Go to dreamland and play. Let your cares slip away…”
Hedy spun around and glared at Echo. “Don’t.”
Echo ignored her and kept singing. “Go to dreamland and fly, like the clouds in the sky…”
Hedy covered her ears, but Echo kept singing. She went through all the silly verses Mom had sung to them, then started over. With each word, each note, her sister seemed to soften, to relax.
There was power in the music. Echo could feel it now as it wrapped around them.
Hedy wilted onto the bunk, tears brimming in her eyes. When she looked up at Echo, the girl she’d been as a child was right there, easy to see.
“Echo? Are you okay?”
Echo nodded, but didn’t stop singing.
“I’m so sorry. About everything. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Hedy shook herself. “That knife. I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t myself.”
Echo wanted to tell her it was okay, but didn’t dare. She worried the spell would be broken and that dark, evil thing that lived inside her sister would come out again.
Hedy gave a sad smile. “You sound so much like Mom. She always had such a sweet voice. She used to sing me to sleep, just like that.”
Echo remembered. Some days it was the only thing that calmed down Hedy enough that she could rest. Mom would sing for hours until her little foundling was sleeping peacefully.
Echo had always been jealous of that, but she saw now why Mom had done it.
There was no other way. Hedy was infected with too many dark shards to fight them all herself. She needed help. She needed someone to sing her shards to sleep.
“I was there that night,” Hedy said quietly. “The night Mom died. I saw the whole thing.”
The night Stygian had killed her.
Echo didn’t want to hear that story, but her voice was locked in song, too busy to spare the words to stop her sister.
