by Smith, HD
He raised one of his eyebrows, bringing his full attention back to me. “Really? Perhaps I should impress upon you the urgency of my request.”
Death disappeared. Mace gasped, clutching his chest.
“What’s happening?” Sage wheezed, obviously feeling the same squeezing sensation I was in my chest.
“Death,” I begged, “stop.” Gizelle’s reminder blazed to life, causing the vines to show. One by one, the quads’ tattoos ignited as well. “You’re killing all of us.”
Cinnamon and Sorrel fell to one knee gasping for breath.
“I can’t get the torque if I’m dead,” I forced out through strained gasps.
Death rematerialized in front of Mace, his incorporeal hand pulling out of Mace’s body. Mace collapsed to the floor clutching his chest.
“Has my place in the queue improved?” Death asked.
“You bastard,” I wheezed, still feeling the aftershocks of what he’d just done to Mace. Sucking in air, I tried to calm down before the power within decided to retaliate.
Death chuckled as he set himself to rights, casually running his hand through his hair and pulling down the sleeves of his expensive suit shirt. He smiled. “It looks like you’ve gotten your own little slice of Paradise, Claire.” Death stared as the vines on my arms disappeared. “So unless you want me to tell Harry—”
“Enough with the threats. I needed the power to get your damn torque, so if you tell Harry, all bets are off. Kill one of them and I die—again, all bets are off. You’ll get my attention once I’ve taken care of my current problems. Until then, you’ll wait.”
Death laughed. “You’re so cute when you’re angry, Claire. I’ll give you a little more time to sort things out. Then you’ll bring me the torque or I’ll reset the clock.”
I narrowed my eyes.
He clarified, although I already knew what he was thinking. “I’ll kill you all and start over. I’ve waited ten thousand years—what’s another couple of hundred to get my mate back? Another four in one time will happen soon enough.”
“Are you sure about that? Gizelle wanted—” I cut off, not wanting to tell Death exactly what Gizelle had done to save Thanos. She basically killed herself by killing the male twin inside her, and then produced the quads to set up the necessary pieces to get me to reawaken the fourth realm and return Thanos, who’d been trapped by Raven, another of the four contenders that Mab was then convinced by Gizelle to keep in stasis until me, Sydney, and Faith existed. Yeah, just another few hundred years and he’d have another perfect storm of contenders to play with.
Death’s lip curled up on one side, malicious intent written on his face. “I know exactly what Lochlan did, love, and Gizelle will do it again to save Thanos.”
Was he serious? Had he manipulated events so that Raven would abandon Thanos in the desolate fourth realm, which then prompted Mab to imprison her for five hundred years? Lochlan must be Gizelle’s chimera twin, her male side. Had Death encouraged their actions? Who would he set up to be the contender held now? Not that The Boss and Harry would let the same thing happen again.
Death continued. “I’m feeling generous, and starting over would be so tedious. I’ll give you until the curator position is filled.”
Was he joking? The Boss, hell, all the big three, thought it would take me decades. Of course, they also just approved “my strategy”, which they didn’t believe would work. But I knew they weren’t required to approve my choice, so it was just a matter of time before I had the job completed.
Mace’s voice echoed in my head. And you have no clue what that strategy is.
Technicality, I thought back.
I felt him shrug.
“Fine,” I said to Death. “After I’ve replaced the curator, I’ll work on your little problem. You have my word.”
So fast it was a blur, Death was in front of me, trailing a finger down my cheek. A sting of power followed his touch, leaving a Gizelle-style reminder on the side of my face. I went to knock his hand away, but he caught it, pulling me close.
“You remember how good it was, don’t you, Claire?” he asked, grinding his pelvis against me.
I raised my hand to push him back with my will. He slammed me with a wave of ecstasy. Cinnamon gasped and moaned. The boys were also hit hard with desire. Fighting the overwhelming wave of heat he pressed down on me and the sensory feedback I was getting from the quads, I held back the moan that came to my own lips. I was drowning in lust, but refused to give in to him. Through clenched teeth I said, “What happened to the baby?” I didn’t think it was Death’s baby, best case it was Jack’s and at least Mace knew it hadn’t been his. Either way, that word generally put the kibosh on being “in the mood.” It caused Death to stop his onslaught, but not as I’d expected.
He stepped back, laughing so hard he was bent over, his hands pressing into his knees. “Claire, you do find out the most interesting things. Unfortunately, I don’t know what happened to the little whelp, but I was getting tired of how ho-hum you’d become after Jack’s death that I had to do something.”
My eyes widened. He’d put air quotes around death as if Jack wasn’t really dead. He had to be lying. Shaking my head, I asked, “Jack’s not dead?” Then I looked at Mace for confirmation. Mace shrugged. Really? I thought at him and then turned back to Death. “You’re lying,” I accused. “Jack’s dead. Quaid killed him.”
The corner of Death’s mouth raised. “Are you sure about that, love?” Then he winked and disappeared.
“That was Death?” Cinnamon asked, getting back to her feet. “I expected him to be a bit more gruesome. What baby, and who’s Jack?”
“Don’t,” I said, holding my hand up between us. “Not now.” My mind was reeling at the thought of Jack being alive. I closed my eyes and tried to snap a line to his location. My knees went weak when it actually worked and I found a link. Without considering the consequences, I astral projected my presence to his location. I didn’t materialize, I only stared at the scene in front of me. It was Jack. He was alive and chasing around a small towheaded child. She couldn’t be more than three or four years old, but she wasn’t a baby. I heard a woman’s voice call out from within the house.
“Come in, daddy, and bring little-bit. Dinner is ready,” the voice said.
Jack scooped up the little girl and carried her up the steps to the house. The woman met him at the door. I didn’t get a good look, but I saw enough as he kissed her.
The little girl squealed something that sounded like, “Daddy and tea, Daddy and tea,” and began wriggling out of Jack’s arms.
“Claire,” Cinnamon said, interrupting me with a soothing tone. “You need to calm down.”
I spun around to face her, which was when I realized their presences were with me in the in-between. And like my pulsing illustrations, their tattoos were also blazing. I looked down at my arms and the red vine glowed bright, offsetting the black ink.
Sorrel cleared his throat. “I get that this situation is all kinds of fucked up, but can someone tell me how I was able to sense Death’s names?”
Fuck me, did they get everything?
I opened my eyes, bringing us all back to the Wild Hare. Jack had been carrying a child that called him daddy and kissing a woman that wasn’t me. Was the child his? Had he ever loved me? Was our entire affair just his day job? Did the damn ring in my sock drawer mean nothing? Wisps of energy crackled at my wrists.
“Claire,” Cinnamon said again. “You need to come back to us. Worry about Jack later. Solve the problem at hand first.”
I tried to ignore her.
“Death could be screwing with you,” she said. “That could have been an illusion.”
She knew it wasn’t. Mace could sense the lie and because of this crazy connection, I could sense his reaction. Her words wouldn’t sway me. The hunger within began to pull power. Sorrel was the closest to me, so it hit him first.
The sudden clash of pulled power versus the intense pain of being drain
ed created a feedback loop that almost dropped me to my knees.
“Fuck,” Sage hissed. “Whatever you’re doing, please stop.”
“You’re not helping,” I yelled. “None of you are.”
Then Cinnamon chanted something and everything stopped.
I felt weightless, as if I were floating on a cloud. My eyelids grew heavy and the crackle of magic at my wrists died out. I wanted to curl into a ball and sleep. I was tired and the cloud was soft.
I had to put the image of Jack with the other woman out of my mind or I might implode and wipe out Underworld. The rational part of me knew that and wanted to stop. The irrational part was ready to just say fuck it and level the place.
In the back of my mind, I could still hear Cinnamon chanting. I yawned, unable to fight the call to sleep, and snuggled in for a nap.
Chapter 23
My eyes were the first to pop open, but each of the quads quickly followed suit. Stiffly, I stood from my crumpled position on the floor, but I was calm—we all were now.
“What the hell was that?” I asked.
“Cinnamon sang us a damn lullaby,” Sage answered. “You know, the Sleeping Beauty variety.”
“Please tell me you’re joking,” I said, glancing around to see if anything looked different—you know, the kind of different that one hundred years of sleep might bring—but everything looked the same.
“No, he’s not,” Mace said, “but luckily for us she fell asleep before she could finish the spell.” He glanced at his phone. “It’s been about ten minutes.”
Cinnamon didn’t look apologetic. “One of us had to do something. I’ll admit I was surprised that it affected all of us. I’ll bear that in mind for the future.”
“Can we talk about the names now?” Sorrel asked.
It was bad enough that we’d all been connected so completely that we could mind-speak and feel each other’s emotions and pains. But holy hell, did they have to get access to all my powers, too? Sorrel—and I was sure that meant all of them—had perceived Death’s names. Nothing about this was good. I nervously rubbed my arm, remembering the sting from Gizelle’s summons. At least she didn’t have enough juice to transport me to her location, but I doubted she’d give up that easily.
First things first, the quads had to keep quiet about the names. “None of you will ever tell anyone about knowing Death’s names.”
Mace’s lip curled up. He’d already guessed most of my secrets anyway, but this was different. This information couldn’t get out.
“If anyone finds out,” I warned, “we’ll all be dead. The big three have no idea I took this power from Raven when I killed her and they can never know.”
Cinnamon crossed her arms over her chest. “Interesting. That’s sort of like what Sage did with Sorrel. Was it your intent to gain her power when you killed her? Is that why you want Sydney?”
“No, I had no idea that would happen. And no one is killing Sydney.”
“How do they not know you have her power?” Sage asked.
“I didn’t know it was possible,” Cinnamon said, as if that meant anything.
Sage just nodded.
Narrowing my eyes, I asked, “Why does that matter?”
“Cin is the scholar among us,” Mace said without using air quotes or anything.
“Okay, whatever, but just to be clear, don’t call anyone by their name unless you already know it and don’t use their full name. This cannot get out.”
Sorrel was thinking I was overreacting, but tried to close his mind to me when I stared at him. Mace just smiled, which meant he already had better control than Sorrel with shielding his thoughts. Cinnamon’s expression seemed to indicate she was considering how best to use the ability, and Sage was projecting quite loudly that he had every intention of using the ability when needed. He too tried to silence his thoughts when he realized I was listening.
I had to take control of this situation. While it seemed we all shared an equal link to my powers, there had to be some advantage to being the source. With a flick of my wrist, I created reverse protection spells and suspended the four in the air as I had in Purgatory last summer.
“You’ll swear or I’ll leave you in these protection bubbles until you do.”
You wouldn’t, Mace thought.
I cocked one of my eyebrows. “Try me.”
Sage hit at the unbreakable sphere. It was possible they might eventually figure out how to escape, but I was willing to bet they wouldn’t want to waste time trying different options. Cinnamon looked at me, which was when I realized that they were probably listening to my thoughts.
The blood vine flared as I imagined a mental wall between the quads and myself. I wasn’t sure that would keep them out of my thoughts, but I had to try.
“I could always just ship you off to the fourth realm.” Of course, that was a hollow threat. Paradise wasn’t letting descendants return and I couldn’t even get to the fourth realm, so the odds were good I wouldn’t be able to banish them there, but they didn’t need to know that.
Sorrel was the first to speak. “I pledge to not willingly give the information of your name gift to anyone. I will not tell them I have this ability or that you or my siblings have the ability.”
I nodded at Sorrel. He’d lived with me long enough to know when I was serious and the blood vine I’d activated to keep them out of my thoughts was probably a good indicator I’d reached one of my limits.
Sage cracked next, then Cinnamon. Mace was the final hold-out and he pledged through clenched teeth. I calmed the power at my core and the vine disappeared, but I tried to keep the metal barrier up so that random thoughts weren’t shared.
“Good, now—” My words were cut off by a knock on the door.
The blacksmith, Mace mind-spoke. What is she doing here?
I shrugged. The last time I’d seen Lady Isla of Woodhall, she’d been stuck in the fourth realm with everyone else. How she got out and what she was doing here now, I had no clue.
She can’t be trusted, Mace said.
I looked at him, one eyebrow raised. “I don’t trust anyone.” Based on the day’s events with Jack, the odds were good I never would again.
Cinnamon nodded. In complete seriousness, she thought, Smart.
I turned toward the door. The quads stood on either side of me, as if they were the royal guard. Would wonders never cease?
Claire, darling, Cinnamon said, never let them know how you really feel.
I held back from rolling my eyes at her. Instead, I thought, Sarcasm.
No shit, but I meant we shouldn’t show any discord among us. You know, unified front and all.
Another knock reminded me what we were doing. Looking to my right and left, I realized this wasn’t a line many would cross. They were all stronger together. Even with our magic connected, there was still something more potent when they willingly allied forces. The power they held alone was intense, but together, their auras felt as hot as the sun.
Once we were all settled, I opened the door with my will.
Isla looked the same as she had the last time I saw her. The only difference was her all-natural multi-hued hair had been pulled back into a tight bun, highlighting her mismatched blue and red eyes. Her outfit, which consisted mostly of riding leathers, looked a bit out of place. Maybe it was just that everything appeared new. Nothing was worn or well used. I half expected her to creak as she walked.
“Isla,” I said in greeting.
She bent low at the waist. “My queen.”
I saw her eyes dart between the quads as she rose from her bow. I wonder what she thinks.
She’s trying to decide if she can lie to me, Mace said.
I had to clear my throat to keep from laughing. This was the first time I’d been on this side of Mace’s truth detector.
“Please ignore my guards. Why are you here?” I asked, as if me standing there with the quads was an everyday occurrence.
She inclined her head slightly. “Omar sen
t me.”
Omar of Legend? Cinnamon asked.
The one and only. “Why didn’t he come himself?” I asked Isla.
“As you know, there was no way out originally, however, we have since constructed a portal. Unfortunately, no one fully aligned with Fallen may use it. The realm is isolated.”
Truth, Mace said.
“How did you escape?” I asked.
Isla glanced at Mace, then back to me. “As you may or may not know, I am a child of all realms, yet not a true inhabitant of any realm.”
Truth, Mace confirmed.
“My loyalty is with you, of course,” she said hastily.
Lie.
“Why did Omar send you?” I asked.
“He lost track of you. Well, he lost the ability to see your future. That is all he would tell me.”
True, Mace said.
“What did he expect you to do?” I asked.
Gizelle’s mark flared. Cinnamon sucked in a breath, grabbing her arm.
“She is summoning you,” Sorrel said.
The blacksmith looked confused.
“He doesn’t mean you,” I said and then asked again. “What did Omar expect you to do?” Gizelle can wait, I silently told the others.
Isla looked again at the quads. “He expected me to protect you, but it doesn’t look like you need the help.”
Lie, Mace said.
I wasn’t surprised when her pledge of loyalty turned out to be a lie, but why would she hide the reason Omar had sent her?
Perhaps he didn’t send her, Cinnamon thought.
“Why are you really here?” I asked, calling her out.
“Is it true?” Isla asked. “Has the son returned?”
I dropped my eyebrows into a hard line. “Who?”
Her lip turned up on one side. “The Prince of Fallen. Jayne’s son has returned.”
Truth.
Chapter 24
Studying the blacksmith more closely, I realized what bothered me about her outfit. It was made of leather and wasn’t simple fatigues, but she reminded me of one of the ninjas, a Black Heart. “I suppose you think he’s the true ruler?” I asked.
