Home: Hidden Book Three
Page 1
by Colleen Vanderlinden
Published by Building Block Studios, LLC
Detroit, Michigan, 2014
© 2014 Colleen Vanderlinden
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email the author at email@colleenvanderlinden.com.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
Sneak Peek: Know Your Enemy
About the Author
Dedication
As always,
for Roger.
Here's to twenty more amazing years.
Acknowledgements
I am grateful, as always, to my amazing family.
Thank you to my husband, Roger, for being the one to talk me down when I get stressed, for being my rock and my best friend, and for handling the technical and design aspects of publishing Hidden. Thank you for listening to me talk about my characters as if they're real people and reacting as if that's totally normal. Love you, babe.
Thanks and hugs and kisses to my kids, who make me smile every single day of my life and are living proof that there is magic in this world. Thanks also to Peggy, Roger, and Will Vanderlinden for their support and enthusiasm.
Huge thanks to Hidden's first readers, especially Jayna Longstreet and Kellie Roach. You ladies have been with Molly and company from the beginning, and I will always be grateful for your support, encouragement, and friendship.
Thank you to the lovely Elizabeth Hunter. I am eternally grateful for the advice and encouragement you've given me.
I am lucky to have lived my entire life in the Detroit area, and this series is, in many ways, my love letter to my home city. So thank you, Detroit, for being so inspiring.
Finally, I want to thank my readers. Thank you for loving and rooting for Molly. Thank you for the lovely reviews, comments, Facebook messages, tweets, and emails. I am so grateful for every single one of you, and I hope the time we spend together in these pages is as fun for you as it is for me.
Colleen Vanderlinden
Detroit
February, 2014
Chapter One
My name is Molly Brooks.
Vigilante.
Godslayer.
Abomination.
At least, that's what they tell me. Along with platitudes like "what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger."
Well. We'll see about that.
So far, it was true enough. I’d had my soul shattered when my first husband, Nain, died. I’d teetered on the brink of death after a demon tried to blow me up, watched the man I love waste away from a plague sent to my realm to punish me.
Each time, I got stronger. I got angrier. So strong and angry that I’d sometimes been afraid of myself.
But what about the things that do kill you? What does it do to you, to die and come back?
With my luck, it's probably not good, I thought as I made my way across the rocky ground toward the cave I’d seen after waking.
Not waking. After coming back to life. I'd managed to kill myself destroying the gateway between my world and the world of the gods. Why did I bother? Because war was brewing, and it was my fault, and my world would be punished for it. So, I'd done what my parents and the Fates told me to do, and I destroyed the gateway to save those I love.
The bastards never told me it would kill me, though.
When I entered the cave, I was pleased to find that it was not only empty (gods knew what weird creatures I may have found there) but also that the opening was just big enough for me to get through, crouched down, and then opened into an only slightly larger space. Large enough for me to stand up, to sleep on the floor, but not much bigger than that. The black stone that the mountains were made of was the same stone I’d seen throughout the Nether, in homes and sculptures, tabletops and other items. I’d never thought to ask the name of it.
I sat down, leaning my bare back against the rough wall of the cave. I’d never thought to do a lot of things. At times, I hadn’t thought much, period. I frowned, leaned my head back and closed my eyes, more tired than I expected to be. The short walk from the place where I’d revived to the cave had taken a lot of energy. Not quite up to peak form yet, I guessed.
Coming back from the dead, regenerating a body, apparently takes a lot out of you. Which was a whole crazy thing I really didn’t want to think about too closely. I’d never even considered that it could work that way, that, as a god, or the child of gods or whatever, I could lose my body completely and re-form in the Nether. Nain had done it, thanks to a whole lot of my blood in his veins. I was starting to suspect that it was more than blood, that it was life, or energy, or the soul or whatever the hell you wanted to call it.
Freaky shit.
I started to doze, in between thinking about what I’d do differently this time around. Before, my trademark had been smashing first and asking questions later. I’d thoughtlessly charged into buildings, not knowing what waited for me. Destroyed beings whose deaths only came back to bite me in the ass. I tried to tell myself that action was necessary, but the fact was that I just hadn’t been smart enough. I’d charged headfirst into my relationship with Nain, when I knew, now, that everything I’d ever wanted in a relationship, Brennan had been all along.
My eyes shot open. Brennan. Oh, no. Was he mourning me? I put my head in my hands. Damn it. Would he know I was still alive, somewhere?
I hadn’t even been able to see him that last day, after E had dragged him from the Nether. Was he okay? Had he made it? My gut clenched at the thought. I closed my eyes, and focused, hoping against hope that I'd feel something. Anything.
I felt it instantly, once I pushed the panic aside. There. I breathed a shaky sigh of relief. My connection to Brennan, the one I’d made after he’d been healed from the shifter plague, still existed, as bright, warm, and soothing as always. Once again, I couldn’t feel my connection with Nain, but remembered it well enough to know that it felt more to me like a searing inferno. I’d stupidly believed, in the beginning, that that inferno, the passion, meant that Nain and I were supposed to be together, that two beings of the Nether, bonded, just made sense.
I knew now that what makes sense is being with someone who makes you happy, who feels like home. Nain being back had strangely enough only made me more sure that Brennan and I were the real thing. With them both alive and well, the only one I wanted was Bren.
I laid down, curled up on myself. It was a moot point, now, unless I figured out a way to get back to my own realm.
I need clothes, I thought blearily as I dozed off again.
♦ ♦ ♦
When I opened my eyes, it took me a while to remember, again, where I was and how I got there. And it just depressed me and pissed me off all over again. My eyes adjusted to the dark interior of the cave, and I saw something move.
I froze.
I continued to look
as my eyes adjusted more, and, eventually, I could make out the dark shape of what looked like some kind of huge animal, so large it blocked most of the meager light coming in the cave entrance. It sat, still as a statue. Dog? Wolf? Its round eyes glowed a stormy blue in the dark.
I barely breathed. It looked like it would really hurt if it decided to start attacking me.
I sat up slowly, readied myself to throw flames if I had to. I hoped my powers still worked the way I remembered them.
The animal tilted its head, inspecting me. In that moment, it reminded me of Eunomia, and I thought of her with a pang. She was trapped in my world, much as I was trapped in hers. I watched the creature, and it watched me. The more my eyes adjusted, the more sure I was that it was some kind of large dog or something. Suddenly, it turned and padded out of the mouth of the cave, leaving me alone.
I got up and walked toward the cave entrance, trying to see the animal better, but my foot hit something on the floor, near where it had been sitting. Something soft. I bent down and touched it, timidly, half expecting it somehow to turn into something that would rip my arm off.
Cloth.
I picked the bundle up, and found that a long sleeved top, a pair of pants, and a soft pair of leather boots had been left.
As nice as it would be to not walk around with all my parts on display, I felt more than a twinge of apprehension. Somebody knew I was there. And if somebody knew, then the element of surprise I was counting on was lost. I picked the shirt up, fumbling with it, and noting that it had two large slits in the back, which I was able, after some awkward maneuvering and quite a bit of swearing, to push my wings through. I eyed them warily as I pulled my pants on.
How the hell was I going to walk around in my own world with these goddamned feathered monstrosities?
I pulled the pants on, then the boots. Everything fit like a glove, as if they had been made for me. The shirt had some kind of built-in corset thing that I managed to awkwardly lace up, and the pants almost fit like a second skin, which was definitely not something I’d gone for in my clothing choices back home. The boots went up to just below my knees, fitting my calves and ankles perfectly. The leather was supple, almost velvety.
A knife might be nice, I thought, but then I remembered that I had no need of mortal weapons. At least, I hoped not.
I extended my hand, focused on bringing my sword into being. It appeared effortlessly, but it, like too many things, it was no longer the same. The hilt was still dark black metal, but the blade, the one that had leapt with blue flames, was different now. The blade itself was longer, thinner, and the flames were black.
"Well, that’s creepy," I murmured. "We’re going for a very angel of death type look here, aren’t we?" And then I realized I was talking to myself and that it probably wasn’t a good sign. I looked at my sword again, at the black flames leaping along the blade, then I shook my head and focused on making it disappear. It did.
From inside my cave, I could hear the sounds of battle raging in the Nether, as it had since I’d revived. Booming, crashing. Distant shouts. Almost constant thunder and lightning. Every once in a while, the sound of a horn blowing. The occasional scream. The smell of smoke hung heavy in the air, and my skin prickled due to the amount of power being tossed around by the gods as they fought. Really, it was stupid. The gods couldn’t actually kill each other. I guessed that, when they were injured badly enough to die, they just regenerated the way I had. The only being who could actually kill a god and make him or her stay dead, was me.
I’m special that way.
I crept out of the cave and looked around. Everything looked the same as it had when I’d awoken. Amethyst sky overhead, sharp black mountains behind me cutting the western horizon. I looked up at the millions of whitish-purple stars that dotted the sky. They were always there, no matter what time it was. When I’d first started coming to the Nether, I’d purposely tried coming at different times, trying to get a sense of day versus night. Eunomia had finally explained to me that there was no difference, that the Nether was endless night, and I’d smiled. Night had always been my time.
Looking up at the sky now, I just felt empty and lost. I missed the sky back home, even the gray clouds that Detroit wore in November like a cloak. But every once in a while, you’d get a brilliantly sunny, bright blue sky, and you’d remember what beauty was.
I shook my head and looked around. I could see the city in the distance, where Hades’ palace and everything else was. The Nether was vast, but few ventured beyond Hades’ reach. The mountains, the eerie forests that surrounded the city, were inhabited by creatures great and small, creatures I’d only ever read about in stories, and some that I never would have been able to imagine.
I glanced around again, looking for the mysterious creature that had, I had to believe, left the clothing for me. Not a trace of it. I racked my still-groggy brain, trying to guess, from my stupidly limited knowledge of mythology, which of the gods might have a giant dog thing at its command. It wasn’t Cerberus; I’d seen that beast outside of Hades’ home. Even if it had been, I wouldn’t have felt any better.
I knew I needed to be smarter now. And the smart thing, at this point, was to trust no one. My parents had proven themselves to be liars, hiding my true parentage from me up until they couldn't keep it a secret anymore. I wondered if they’d known closing the gateway would kill me. If they had… then they won for shittiest parents ever. My aunt had tried to kill me, and I had to wonder how much the other aunt despised my existence, considering how much venom had been spewed my way. Every god, now, had a reason to want me dead for closing the mortal realm to them.
Well. Dead again, I guess.
I wondered if I’d come back from a second death. I didn’t intend to have to find out.
The only thing I knew was that I’d have to be careful. I’d have to think instead of smashing first. No more taking things on faith. No more prophecies, family bullshit, or entangling alliances. All I wanted was to end the stupid war and figure out how to get home.
There had to be a way.
I ended up making my way back into the cave, and dozed on and off for what felt like a long time. There really was no way to tell, in the Nether, how much time as I knew it had passed. All I knew was that my body was still weak and every time I even thought of using my powers I ended up with a throbbing headache.
Dying sucks.
So however long it took, I eventually woke up finally feeling as strong as I should. I could feel my powers thrumming through me, and when I called fire into my palms, it came effortlessly. I breathed a sigh of relief, and it turned into a rumble from my stomach. Food. Food would be good.
I made my way cautiously out of the cave and headed toward the woods, scanning the area to make sure I saw anyone or anything that could pose a threat before it saw me.
The woods were silent. The black and gray trees rose into the sky, and dead leaves crunched under my feet. I tried to walk quietly, taking slow, cautious steps. I didn’t even know what I expected to eat in those woods. Chances were that anything I found in the Nether’s forests would either make me sick or cause me a lot of pain, somehow. But I had my strength and energy back, and now I was freaking hungry.
I froze as the giant animal from my cave sauntered in front of me. I recognized its stormy blue, glowing eyes. My jaw dropped, and I had to fight tears back from my eyes when I realized what I was looking at.
It wasn’t a wolf. Or a dog. It was an enormous black cat, fur shining in the meager light, long tail lashing back and forth as it watched me.
"Well that’s just fucking mean," I muttered, swiping at my eyes in frustration. The animal looked so much like Brennan when he was in his favorite form it took everything in me not to approach the damned thing and wrap my arms around its neck. Instead, I just stared at it, and it watched me. It had a dark brown satchel in its mouth, and it approached me and dropped it at my feet, then backed up a few steps and looked back up at me, waiting patiently.
"It’s probably a bad idea to accept gifts from strange cats, here of all places," I said to it, and backed away. It walked forward and nosed the satchel toward me again. "Go away, cat," I said, backing up some more. I didn’t want to turn my back on it, but I also didn’t want to be indebted to this creature and whoever it served anymore than I already was. Clothing was one thing. I wasn’t going to intimidate anybody in my birthday suit. But beyond that? No way.
The cat heaved a large sigh, walked forward, and nosed the satchel toward me again. I stood, crossed my arms, and glared at it. My glare was somewhat legendary. It had made demons piss themselves, vampires remember their manners. It had ended fights between street thugs and arguments between opposing werewolf packs. I was pretty proud of it, really.
The cat just gave me a bored look and glanced down at the satchel again.
We stood there, the cat and I, in a bit of a stalemate. After a while, it sat, still watching me in a bored manner, but clearly not intending to leave until I’d opened the satchel.
"You’re so sure there’s nothing in there that’s going to kill me, why don’t you open it?" I muttered.
The cat heaved another annoyed sigh and used its sharp teeth to pull the satchel open. Then it picked the bag up from the bottom and dumped the contents onto the forest floor. A small loaf of bread. Some fruit that kind of looked like apples, but was a dusky purple color. A bottle with liquid of some kind in it.
The cat looked at me again, then glanced down at the food.
"Who sent you, cat?" I asked it. Since, obviously, the damn thing could understand me. And for just a second or two, maybe, I could pretend it was Brennan I was talking to. And it hurt, because trying to feed me was exactly the type of thing Bren would do. I looked away from the cat, blinking tears back from my eyes again.
The cat stepped toward me and I watched it warily. It gently butted its large head against my thigh, and looked down at the food again. And then it sauntered away, and I was alone, as if it had never been there at all.