Thirty Minutes to Heartbreak Box Set (Books 1-3)

by Nadia Scrieva

“As if. That was probably some crazy coincidence.”

  Amara rolled her eyes. “Gimme a break, Pax! You’re a fire goddess—you have magick in your blood, and everything happens for a reason. From now on, I demand that you share all your dreams with me—in microscopic detail.”

  “Even the dirty dreams?” Pax asked with a raised eyebrow. “The ones about making love to your brother on sandy beaches with the warm, saltwater waves washing up on the shores and…”

  “Ew, ew, ew!” Amara squealed with a shudder, raising her voice to speak over Pax and cut her off. “No—that’s the last thing I need in my head.”

  Pax laughed as she scratched around her puncture wound, which was already starting to heal. “Come on, Mara—let me keep my dreams private. Whether they’re bad or good, I’d like to have one safe and secret place to go to.”

  “No. Your dreams could come true and involve me; they could involve all of us. I deserve to know so that I can be prepared. I’m not as strong as you, mentally or physically. I can’t just trust that I’ll be tough enough to handle whatever comes my way: I need time to prepare.”

  Pax’s fingers paused as they circled her bullet-hole, and she stared at her friend in surprise. She was vaguely reminded of what Vincent had said to her earlier, and she felt a little chill run through her shoulders. Lowering her eyes, she frowned and tried to recall her recent dreams. Chewing on her lip, she did recall a certain dream with particular vividness that had left her disturbed upon awaking. In fact, there had been more than one dream along the same lines. Now, fear began to gnaw little tunnels in her chest as she acknowledged that she might have been ignoring important information. What if these were signals from Sakra? Some kind of message meant for her; a personal gift.

  “What is it, Pax?” Amara said sharply, sitting up and clutching her side. “Paxie. What are you thinking about?”

  “I have been having a sort-of recurring dream,” Pax admitted softly, “about a man. A faceless man. Actually, it’s more of a nightmare.”

  “What happens in the dream?”

  Pax shook her head. Suddenly, she was the one feeling the need to change the subject. “Unspeakable things,” she said quietly, “he does unspeakable things. Luckily, this dream couldn’t be real—the only thing I remember about this guy is that he has green hair. No one has green hair.”

  Chapter 9: Spice of Life

  The large coliseum arena was teeming with hundreds of men from various origins. Some were tanned and some were fair, with all manner of height and size, ranging from five feet tall to giants measuring well over eight feet. They were all finely muscled and wielding weapons of various types.

  “Who are those men?” Suraj asked his sister, pointing the hand that held his goblet of mead.

  “Those?” Suja asked in dismay. “Out of all the competitors in this battle royale, you’re looking at those?”

  “Watch them carefully, sister.”

  Suja sipped from her own goblet as she sat and watched the fighting. These were some of the best male fighters in the galaxy—at least, all the ones that she had been capable of rounding up on such short notice. She sighed as she stared at the men that had caught her brother’s attention. Unlike many of the other fighters, they were not covered in sweat from heavy exertion. The stately men stood in the center of the ring, back to back, and when anyone approached, they seemed to coordinate in a unique attack which created a toxic green haze around their assailant. Within seconds, anyone who attacked these men found their body frozen solid within a translucent avocado-colored mist. Their body would hover in the air, motionless for several seconds, until they would quite suddenly be crushed flat as though they’d had an unfortunate encounter with a steamroller. The pancake-shaped man that remained would fall to the ground, defeated.

  “Those fighters are from Planet Zvora,” Suja whispered to her brother. “I believe they are masters of using their mind to manipulate the air.”

  “It’s impressive,” said Suraj, his keen interest evident in his voice. “I want all of them.”

  “But brother—they all have green hair!”

  Suraj turned away from her and spat with disgust. “Could you be any more superficial? I have joined bodies with all manner of fools that you have brought to me, just for the sake of a certain skill or technique they had mastered. Now I am choosing those ten fighters from Zvora. If we allowed this pointless battle royale to continue, they would obviously be the victors.”

  “They all have strange names,” Suja said skeptically. “Names like Zvak, Zvim, Zvaba…”

  “I don’t give a fuck what their names are. Their power is of a strange variety, and in that strange variety lies their power. Power that will soon be mine. Stop the battle and announce my choice.” He began to casually roll up his sleeves. “I’m going to kill everyone else.”

  Suja seemed ready to protest, but she lowered her chin and sighed. “As you wish, brother.”

  This man was quickly getting out of control.

  * * *

  Pax bolted upright in the sofa at the sound of her phone ringing. Blinking rapidly several times, she turned to her side and grabbed the device. Seeing that it was Layla Solyst, she cleared her voice and accepted the call.

  “Hello?” she mumbled groggily.

  “Hey, babe—did you know you have a fan club?”

  “I found out the hard way,” Pax responded.

  “Quaint,” Layla remarked. “It’s a lot easier to watch all this celebrity gossip knowing that Para is you two. It makes me giggle; but then Gordin asks me what’s so funny, and I can never explain myself. I just say, ‘That poor girl has no idea what she’s getting into.’ Oh, they’re talking about you again! Beloved daughter of Bridget Burnson, murdered actress…”

  “Look, Lay,” Pax said quietly. “It’s great that you know Para’s secret—at this point it’s between us, you, and Sakra. We appreciate your help in concealing our identities, but I really don’t want to see or hear any of those crazy media reports. Ever again.”

  “I can understand that with your temper. But hey, did you really get shot? There’s this captivating photo of Thorn standing with his legs spread wide apart, and an angry look on his face—he’s holding Para in his arms, and there’s blood all over her stomach. But I know that you can’t be shot, right? According to the news…”

  “No news, Layla!” Pax said a bit too harshly. “Let’s catch up some other time.” Upon hanging up, she noticed that Amara was standing in the doorway.

  The blonde woman sent her a reproachful look. “She’s an investigator, Paxie. She was just trying to get the story straight from the source.”

  “I can’t keep you from sneaking around inside my head, can I?” Pax asked in frustration.

  “Actually, I was in Layla’s head that time. Her mind works very quickly, and in such clever ways. She’s pretty brilliant—smarter than both of us in her own sleuthy-way.”

  Pax nodded at this description. “It would make for very boring friendships, and a regrettably useless network of allies, if we all had the same kinds of intelligence. Variety isn’t just the spice of life—it’s our strength.”

  “Now you’re sounding like my pops,” Amara joked. “But one question: if you think that Layla is valuable even though she’s human and fragile, why did you make me work so hard to get stronger in the vector zone?”

  “Because you had the potential. A time will come soon when we will need a lot more than just your potential.”

  “Sometimes I think that time already has come and gone, and I already failed,” Amara said, tossing a brown paper bag filled with takeout food at her friend. “What did you dream during your little nap?”

  “Something stupid,” said Pax, catching the bag and helping herself to several bacon and egg sandwiches.

  “It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me. Asking was just a formality. I can invade your mind and read your thoughts anyway,” Amara declared. She sat down and sunk her teeth into a sausage and egg sandwich.
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  “You’re having way too much fun with that technique.”

  “Iffm nofft,” Amara said with her mouth full, before resorting to telepathy. It gives me a major headache sometimes. There is such a thing as too much information.

  Pax nodded as she continued to eat. Well, I don’t really remember the details of my dream, but it was stupid, that’s for sure. Your dad was there, and I think he called me ugly or something, and it really got under my skin. So I attacked him and we were having this all-out battle on some random planet because of it.

  Aw, Pax! That would never happen. My dad calls everyone ugly, and a lot worse, but you never seemed to care about that before.

  I know, right? Crazy. It was an icy planet with rings, and there were about five moons in the sky. This sandwich is really delicious.

  Dammit, Pax. I hate to interrupt breakfast, but Thorn’s going to check on Para.

  “No way! I am only on my second sandwich,” Pax said with dismay. The demigoddesses both had unusually large appetites. “How were you able to focus on his thoughts, eat, and chat with me at the same time?”

  “I just have to get used to the perpetual headache. Get ready to join bodies and teleport us over there.”

  * * *

  Thornton didn’t bother knocking on the door, because as he approached the house he could feel a very small energy signal up in her room. He didn’t want to make her walk to the door in her condition, so he flew to Para’s bedroom window. After peering in to see that she was awake and sitting up in bed with a book, he unlatched the window and let himself in.

  The morning light streamed into her room, illuminating her pink silk nightgown as she turned to gaze at him. She did not seem surprised to see him standing over her with a concerned look on his face.

  “Hey,” she murmured softly, giving him a weak smile.

  “Good morning, beautiful. How’s your wound?”

  “It’s fine. I got the bullet out,” she said, with a slight yawn.

  “Do you mind if I take a look at the wound?” Thornton asked with worry.

  She lifted her shirt to reveal a clean white square of bandages which were attached to her body with medical tape. “See? I’m competent.”

  “I never doubted that you were,” he said with relief, sitting on the edge of her bed. He sighed, putting a hand on her calf and gently squeezing her leg through the blanket. “I shouldn’t have let this happen.”

  “It will heal,” she told him again. “A few weeks and I’ll be fine.”

  “No. It will heal immediately,” Thornton said firmly, pulling a vial from his pocket. “I brought you some more of my special liquid—just drink a few drops and you’ll be as good as new.”

  Para’s eyes widened. Where is he getting so much of Sakra’s water? He must have asked my dad for his emergency bottles. “Thorn, if that stuff is so precious, let’s not waste it.”

  “I don’t consider your health a waste.”

  “My health? This is nothing. There are so many thousands of people dying right now whose lives could be saved with this substance, and instead you waste it on me when I’m not even mortally or seriously injured? There isn’t even an infection.”

  Thornton shook his head, rubbing his hand up and down her leg. “I just don’t want you to feel any pain or discomfort. Especially not when it’s my fault you’re in this predicament to begin with. Please drink the contents of the vial.”

  He reached out and pressed the vial into her hand. She closed her fingers around it carefully.

  “How about this, Thorn,” she said, rolling the small cylinder against her palm. It suddenly reminded her of a perfume sampler. “If my wound gets worse, or if it gets infected, then I will drink this. If not, I’ll just let it heal naturally.” It suddenly occurred to Para that no one had ever scientifically analyzed the properties of Sakra’s water. It was true that there was an extremely limited amount, only accessible by asking Sakra himself for the vials. The procedure for making the healing beverage was supposedly very complicated; Pax’s father, Raymond, had been studying it for years, and was still unable to craft his own using magick.

  Para’s mind was unique, possessing the combined aptitudes of Amara’s scientific and technological knowledge, and Pax’s medical expertise. No one had considered it before; but she suddenly felt that if she had enough time, she could use modern methods to synthesize the traditional substance to make some sort of medicine—something that could be available for humans on a large scale. The wheels in her mind were turning rapidly; it was the variety inside her, intertwined and meshed together magically, that made her so shrewd. This was the first time she’d thought of something good that only her supercharged union could achieve. She was suddenly distracted by Thornton reaching out to cup the bottom of her jaw and press a kiss against the corner of her mouth.

  “I can’t believe how well you’re taking all this. You really are a piece of work, Medea.”

  His closeness sent all the budding technical ingenuity racing to the back of her mind. She made room for him to sit on the bed and patted the spot beside her; she experienced a déjà vu of doing the same thing not too long ago as Pax. He obediently removed his shoes and slipped under the blanket with her. She smiled as she snuggled closer into his warmth—it felt way better than when she was just plain old Pax. For a moment, it occurred to her that the reason Pax could not allow herself to get back together with Thornton had less to do with his failings, and more to do with her own personal failings and insecurities.

  Her eyes shot open wide at this realization, but she immediately tried to push it from her mind. This was no time to overanalyze her twisted, damaged mind—or rather, one half of it. This was precious time that she needed to use to relax and fortify her connection with Thornton for the sake of her ruse. She forced her eyes closed, and forced herself to enjoy the perfect early morning feeling. It was ridiculously perfect. Birds were singing outside, and the subtle light was grey—not yet bright enough to be annoying and demanding. And she was close to the man she loved.

  It was the first time she had felt truly peaceful since she had learned of the comet. It was the first time that she had not been plagued by any sense of urgency or fear, even though she knew that she would have less than twenty-six minutes to be whole, and she would need to lie and find an excuse to send him away before then. It didn’t matter; she was lost in the moment. She didn’t want it to be over. She wanted to lie in bed with him for hours, or all day if possible, just feeling at peace and free of fear.

  “Medea,” said Thornton softly. “I want you to know about my family’s heritage.”

  She nodded against his shoulder.

  “My father is a deva. I’m not completely human.”

  There was a silence then. An early morning silence as Thornton waited nervously for her response. He listened to her breathing for signs of how she felt, and was surprised to see that she was holding her breath for several seconds. “It’s the reason that I’m much stronger than the average person and the reason I accidentally hurt you the other day. It’s also the reason that I look younger than I am, and the reason my body became red and engulfed with flames when I made love to you.”

  Silver, Para inwardly corrected, glancing around at the burns on the walls that she had yet to cover up with wallpaper. I can’t believe he's so honest with me. I have done nothing but lie and lie and lie and he is sharing the deepest darkest family secrets? He must really trust this girl he calls Medea. Now how do I comment on this in a sufficiently surprised yet understanding manner…

  Para released her held breath and asked, “What’s a deva?”

  A chuckle rose from deep inside his throat. “It’s a type of demigod. My father is actually the King of Devas, which basically means that he can boss everyone else around. We all have… certain superhuman abilities.”

  “Does Ash know?” she asked.

  Thornton laughed again. “Yeah, Ash knows. His dad was a demigod too… Kaden Burnson, the Fire Deva. Our dads wer
e a pretty powerful team, back in the day.”

  “Oh,” she responded, hoping to appear thoughtful. “Ash mentioned his father to me a couple times. He said that he was some sort of war hero—I guess he left out some details.”

  “The greatest hero,” said Thornton seriously. "He sacrificed himself to save us all.”

  Para closed her eyes tightly, unable to think of her grandfather without growing emotional. “You’re lucky to have known such great men.”

  “So you still consider us men?” Thornton asked with an anxious gulp. “I haven’t had to tell a stranger about this in a really long time—not since my high school girlfriend Layla nearly died in a car crash. Does it make you uncomfortable that I’m not completely human?”

  Para hesitated before responding, and Thornton began to speak again quickly, his words piling up on each other in a jumbled mess of explanations. “Just so you know, my mom is completely normal—except for the part where she owns a multinational corporation. In fact, she and my dad often have fights about who’s more powerful, and she usually wins. Of course, they are a married couple and I think the wife always has to win in order for a marriage to be successful in the long-term, and just so you know, it was really my dad’s kind of power that actually stopped the comet, although it wasn’t my dad’s idea specifically…”

  “Shhh,” Para said, pressing a finger against his mouth. She lowered her chin and laughed lightly at his fretful blabbering. She had never seen him this way; he resembled a guilty schoolboy confessing his sins to a priest. “For the record, Thorn, I think this makes you much more interesting.”

  He smiled in relief and fiercely hugged her, accidentally touching the skin at her side which was close to her bullet wound, and she winced in pain.

  “Ouch.”

  “Sorry, I forgot,” he said apologetically, kissing her forehead and repositioning his hand away from her wound.

  “No harm done,” she responded kindly.

  She’s tough. Thornton thought with sudden admiration. She’s very tough. Not physically, not in the way I’m used to... not like Pax. No, she has formidable mental fortitude instead. Not that Pax wasn’t super intelligent and confident... but this woman! She is so deadly calm about everything, even little things Pax would have gotten far too excited about. Medea’s got it together, and I feel like she can take anything that comes her way.