Tainted (Netherworld Book II)

by Christie Rich

  She shoves my shoulder. “Jerk.” I grin. She shakes her head. “How much farther?”

  I point to the right of us where the tree line starts. “A few minutes through there.”

  Her expression tightens minutely. “How many worlds are between here and mine?”

  I mentally tally them. “Three.”

  She cringes, but recovers quickly. “Doesn’t sound too bad.”

  “Did Maybell get any training done with you today?”

  “She was too busy frying Peter. We didn’t do anything significant. All I did was watch her.”

  Her idea of insignificance might not be reality. “Since we will be travelling together, I will guide you. The first rule of traversing an unknown world is to keep yourself as inconspicuous as possible. Erobos cannot track us unless they acquire a true signal. Once that signal is severed, they have to start the search over. They will be looking for outliers, those who appear to not belong.”

  Her dubious expression is comical. “But I don’t even know how to cloak myself or whatever it is you guys do.”

  “Dampen is the word you are searching for, and to truly cloak yourself, you would need to know how to morph.”

  She stops to stare at me. “So teach me.”

  Even though I am attempting to be positive, I let a slight scoff slip past my lips. Amelia has to think this is her idea. “Morphing can only be done when you’ve mastered yourself. It would be pointless to try until then.”

  Her mouth falls open. “Seriously? Have you seen my ninja moves? It can’t be that hard, especially because I’m not even really here.”

  She is too reckless as it is. I need to rein her in. “You’re wrong, Amelia. It’s true you’ve left your body behind, but your essence is what the Erobos crave. The shell you know as yourself is only a physical structure. What makes you special resides in your energy. Your soul pilots your body, and without it, your body is nothing more than a corpse.”

  She eyes me sidelong. “Morbid much?”

  I can barely hide my smile. Being around her could never be tiring. The resolve still lingers in her stance, in the set of her hands and the angle of her chin. “Very well. You could be the one person in millions who can master the art of transformation without giving much effort, but in case you aren’t, you’d better prepare yourself for pain.”

  She visibly swallows, but her determination hasn’t wavered. “Good to know.”

  One last thing to tip her over the edge. “There are other ways to protect yourself against Erobos detection, Amelia.”

  She shakes her head. “No! I want to try.”

  I glance away. If I look at her, I might spoil what is turning out to be a very effective conversation. “We’d better stop here, then. We have a modicum of protection within this realm, but once we cross the portal line, we will be open to all threats.”

  Her frown deepens. “Stop yapping, then, and let’s get to it.”

  I’d like to say I’m not scared, but my body shakes as Seth circles me. He’s quiet, his intense blue eyes assessing. “To understand transformation, you must understand the order of life. All life has similar makeup. Our differences make us what we are. When you tap into the part of yourself which is changeable, you will then be able to alter your form.”

  Sounds amazing, but his tone tells me he’s holding something back. “So anyone can do this?”

  He answers immediately. “Not necessarily. If you have the desire and you believe it is possible, you are one step closer to mastering your abilities.”

  He’s totally playing me. I’m just not sure how. “Hmm, doesn’t sound so simple to me.”

  His face goes all I told you so before he says, “There is a reason it usually takes centuries to master.”

  I don’t have centuries to sit on my heels. “Come on, Seth. There has to be a shortcut!”

  He laughs, crossing his arms and taking a casual stance. “I’m afraid your impatience will not serve you here.”

  Ugh. “You’re still talking too much. Why don’t you show me something?”

  He doesn’t say a word. One second he’s standing there, haughtiness sweltering on his face, and the next his body blurs as if every cell inside him is vibrating. He shrinks down. All I can see are vague colors and something’s not right with the way he’s crouching. When I blink again, he’s a wolf. Panting happily, he nuzzles my leg. “How did you do that?” He barks and licks my fingers. I’m so tempted to pat his head and scratch his ears — but really? “Cut it out, Seth. I’m serious.”

  Before I can finish my sentence, he’s standing next to me again, whole and completely arrogant. His eyes come alive with mischief. “Go ahead — give it a try.”

  “What? Are you serious? I hate to break this to you, but you didn’t show me anything. Step by step would be a great starting point, in case you’re wondering.”

  He shrugs, egging me on. “I wish I could give you exact instructions, but your body is different than mine. You have to start somewhere, and if your ninja moves are as great as you say they are, morphing should not be a problem.”

  Me and my big mouth. He has a point. I step away from him to give myself some room. Even though Seth has this down, I’m going to have to focus as much as possible. Too bad having him stand so close to me keeps my mind turning to other things, like how his muscles ripple under his shirt when he crosses his arms, or how his hair catches the light when it moves with the wind, or how his jeans hang from his hips in that way that makes my fingers itch to explore him. He clears his throat. My face heats up until the tips of my ears burn.

  Thoroughly unnerved, I turn away and take a deep breath. Focusing is proving to be harder than it should be. To begin, I concentrate on the beat of my heart and the rhythm of my pulse. Each exhale calms me.

  A heavy sigh breaks my concentration. “Do you plan to be done with this by tomorrow?”

  “Shut it,” I hiss. “I’m feeling it.”

  The rather loud rustling behind me pulls my attention. When I glance over my shoulder, Seth is sprawled out in the grass, lying on his side. He pumps his eyebrows at me and pats the spot beside him. Tempting as it is to join him, I spin away. He laughs.

  It takes me a few minutes to get back inside my head. Why Seth thinks I should just know how to rearrange my DNA is more absurd than an alligator gargling peanut butter.

  No matter how much I try, my mind won’t shut down. Hopefully, it doesn’t need to. Instead of going zen I take the opposite approach. My mind glitches—I haven’t even considered what I want to transform into. One thought and I’ve got it. Justine used to take me to the zoo when we could afford it. I loved watching the animals, and the ones that baffled me the most were the snakes.

  Despite the smell of the reptilian building, I would watch for hours for them to move. The way their scales rippled fascinated me, and I always wondered what it would feel like to get around without legs. At the thought, something shifts inside me.

  My hands take on a vibrant shade of green and anticipation bubbles in my gut. I’m doing it. I’m going to be a snake. I don’t even care that I’m making all the rumor mongers I left back in Provo right about me.

  My joints snap as my bones realign. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all. Yeow. What was that? My hands are gone, so I can’t even feel my face to tell what’s going on.

  It all happens in nanoseconds, but the scorching pain makes the transformation more like years. Without being able to control it, my tongue tastes the air. A whole bunch of things process at once. Rodents are near, which for some unholy reason doesn’t disgust me at the moment. And yikes, something warm races toward me. My mouth opens and a hiss rings out. My scales burn as I’m hoisted into the air, held by the back of my head. My body dangles from Seth’s hand, which hurts. I hiss again.

  He laughs. “Interesting choice. I told you it would hurt.”

  How can I hear him? Snakes don’t have ears. I give an inward shrug. Maybe dream snakes do? Oh well. When I try to answer him,
I merely hiss again.

  I’m twirled around until his face is inches from my nose. He lifts his finger up in what looks like a warning. “Don’t bite me.” I can’t move with the way he’s holding me, so I don’t do anything. “Perhaps you should remain cloaked while we travel. You are much easier to hide this way.”

  Without any more explanations, he shoves me into a sack of some kind that abrades my scales. If I could, I would totally bite him right now. He jostles the bag around until it thumps against something solid. The slight swaying motion as he walks reminds me of kicking back in a hammock, but I’m so not relaxed.

  As soon as we get to my world, he’s gonna get it. I didn’t agree to stay transformed. Maybe he told me it was super hard to get me to try it so he could — anger fills me to the tip of my tail. That was his play. The rage inside me fizzles immediately when my mind rushes to the most likely conclusion: he’s trying to protect me again. Staying mad at him gets harder by the minute.

  I’m not stupid enough to think I could handle an Erobos attack right now. Who knows how long it’ll take for him to jump the three worlds between here and mine? Since I’m in for the ride, I take the chance to nap. Snakes nap, right?

  Blackness swirls around me. No light exists, yet I’m aware of the varying degrees of darkness. The air singes my nose with putrid scents speaking of decay and death. All around me, moans pierce my senses. Disembodied voices cry out for help . . . others in ecstasy.

  I curl in on myself to cover my nose, sure I’ve been transported to hell. The damned take shape before me as my mind sees what my eyes cannot. Bodies litter the ground, only inches from where I crouch. I pull in a gasp, only to gag on the stench.

  Up ahead sits a man on a throne settled high above us. His beauty can only be described as grotesque. Deep black hair cascades over his shoulders, sleek and alluring. His eyes, dark as ebony should be soulless, but rich emotion pours off him as he takes in his subjects, who creep toward him in a slow moving wave.

  One man, I think it’s a man, beats the others to the throne. He raises an arm toward the king of this world, moaning. So much need in one tiny sound.

  Lightning fast, the king touches the tip of the man’s outstretched finger. His subject groans in an odd acknowledgement of pleasure that makes my stomach lurch. I gag, and the sound ricochets through the space.

  The king snaps up, searching the darkness until his gaze rests on me. Defiant, I stand, staring at this abomination.

  In a matter of seconds, the man at his feet screams in agony, writhing on the floor, only to be tossed aside by another soul who lurches up, outstretching her hand toward the king.

  He ignores her, and she wails in a piercing cry, making me cringe. Others join in. The king moves from the throne to descend the steps. I recoil from him. Step by agonizing step, I retreat.

  While all these people beg and plead for his attention, I cannot get away fast enough. I take another step back, crunching something under my boot. What was that? Even though I shouldn’t look away from the king, I glance behind me. A gasp slips out of me when I recognize the thing under my foot as a hand. The person, who should be screaming in pain, merely stares at me in what looks like wonder. Something sparks in the eyes. Recognition?

  I shift my weight to escape but only manage to step on someone else. Tissue gives and squishes, yet they make no noise.

  The king smiles, brilliant white teeth flashing in the darkness. He stops his trek toward me, but sweeps his arm my way. His heavenly voice sends a shockwave of raw desire through me, yet his words set my insides quaking. “Behold . . . your new queen.”

  Amelia won’t wake up. Once we reach the oasis, I remove her from the sack. Her body transforms from the tiny snake into the beauty I have come to know and love. I thought the process of traveling through the worlds to get here would be easier if she were transformed, but it may have been another error in judgment.

  I shake her, dip her into the cool water, speak soft words of love, yell until my voice breaks, and even kiss her, yet nothing I do works.

  Tremors jar her body until she convulses. I’ve got to do something. She has to be dreaming, but where she is right now is anyone’s guess.

  I plead to the deity who made me, seeking aid for the woman in my arms. Here, like this, her fragility scares me. I cannot lose her, yet I’m useless to save her.

  After a time of rocking her convulsing form, I lose my patience. Nothing like this has ever happened with a recruit, but I’ve never had a recruit grounded in my realm. I must discuss this with my brothers, figure out what’s happening, but first, I have to get back to my realm. Taking Amelia’s soul through the flames comes with its own risk: one I must accept. It is the only thing I can think of to rouse her.

  Thankfully, it doesn’t take long to call the portal. The flames dance before me, and I command them to let Amelia pass before I leap through the barrier into my living room. Her hair singes, but doesn’t catch fire. The rest of her seems to be intact. I race for the library, then take the stairs two at a time. My mind recognizes Baltek’s bark, but I can’t wait even a second to greet him.

  Amelia’s body lies where I left her. Unlike the part of her that writhes in my arms, her physical form is at rest. Not taking another moment to think about it, I throw back the covers and lay this part of her soul over her body. It seeps in slowly, a mask melting into flesh.

  She gasps and sits straight up, her eyes wild, her breath raged. I give her a moment to come around. The second her gaze shows recognition, I pull her into my arms. Her body breaks out into a cold sweat, and she shivers violently. With a gently tug, the covers are easy to manipulate around her. My hand strokes her hair as her tears wet my collar. “What happened?” I ask when I realize she’s not going to tell me. “Where were you?”

  The shaking continues, so I pull her as close as I can. Her voice is barely discernible when she finally speaks. “What does Volos look like?”

  Everything within me stiffens at the mention of my enemy. “Why do you ask such a thing? Please, Amelia. Tell me what happened.”

  She presses her cheek more firmly against my chest. “It was awful. That man was so . . . strange. At once terrifying and beautiful in a way my soul craved. He had black hair and eyes to match. Tell me it wasn’t him; tell me I had a nightmare.”

  My blood freezes. Volos should not be able to influence Amelia right now. He should have no effect on her, either. Something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

  “Shh,” I croon. “It’s okay.”

  She pushes away until she stares into my eyes. “Seth, don’t you dare lie to me. What’s going on?”

  I brush her cheek, making shushing noises. “I wish I knew. In all my years, I’ve never experienced something like this. No recruit has seen Volos from Oneiroi realms. Even Rhea could not communicate with him while she was in my world.”

  She gulps, going still as a stone. “It was him, wasn’t it?”

  I nod, not able to find my voice. Disappointment floats over her features, but, worse, fear lingers there.

  I tip her chin back. “You’re stronger than him.”

  The cringe covering her features makes a mockery of my declaration. “Come on, Seth. I’ve seen him.”

  I shake my head and make sure she’s looking at me. “You’re wrong. You can overcome him. Without much thought at all, you destroyed the evil which turned Volos. Don’t you realize what a feat you performed?”

  Her gaze is distant, as if she won’t listen to me. “He’s just so—”

  “No! I won’t hear it.” Taking in her startled expression, I lower my tone. My fingers find her lovely face, where tears trail light paths over her cheeks and jaw. “Let me tell you what you are. You’re everything Volos could never be. You are light and love and forgiveness. You are hope, Amelia. I used to know the man Volos before he was corrupted. If he could see the evil he has spread, he would end his own life before he would let this plague continue. The man you saw is no longer the same person, but I have to hop
e he is somewhere inside the monster. I have to believe there is a way to free him, if only through elimination.”

  When she opens her mouth, no words pass her lips. Pale as a spring bloom, her skin stands out against the crimson bedding surrounding her. I beseech her to speak with a solemn look. After a moment, her breath hisses out. “But you’re immortal. How could he be killed?”

  “We’ve come to believe Eros change Oneiroi in more ways than only behavior.” My heart lurches at the thought of being overtaken by the soulless ones. With so much on my mind, I stand. Amelia watches me. After only a moment, she sits up and curls her fingers into the quilt. “Sustained contact with the dark creatures causes a rift in our soul. Some believe it is impossible to truly recover from Eros influence. We would know more if we could recover an Erobos to test our hypotheses.”

  Her mouth twists into a grimace. “You want to capture an Erobos? And do what, exactly? It was hard enough getting those things out of Peter, if we even got them all.”

  I take her hand, hoping to steady her. “Peter is faring well enough, thanks to Maybell. Once you recover further, you will likely be able to assist in a full extraction.”

  Amelia’s voice rushes out, high pitched and panicky. “We’re not talking about teeth, here, Seth.”

  She turns around, punches her pillows a few times before she leans back against them. My answer stalls in my throat when she rushes to her feet. Frowning, I brace her elbow until I’m sure she’s not going to tip over.

  Her trembling fingers work out of my grip, making me wonder at her mood. When I move closer, she steps away. Flighty behavior is not normal for her. She’s been comfortable since she found out who I am. Somehow, I have to settle her down. “I am sorry for interrupting you earlier. Please, tell me more about your dream.”

  Fiddling with the buttons on her jacket, she moves for the doorway, her gaze flitting to the floor every half second. I’d nearly forgotten about her irrational fear.

  I follow her quick retreat but move around her before she can make it out of the room entirely. No matter how close I get, she won’t look at me. Her body shakes as I gather her into my arms. “I’m so sorry, Mel.” A sharp sob bursts out of her, followed by a succession of gasps. “Interaction with Erobos of any level leaves the strongest of us weaker, but facing Volos, even in a dream within a dream would terrify anyone.”