Tainted (Netherworld Book II)

by Christie Rich

  What happened? I ask.

  He barely shakes his head. Caught my hand. Amelia healed me. How can a recruit heal, Seth? It isn’t natural.

  Nothing about Amelia Blake is natural. She’s extraordinary in every way. We’ll discuss this later.

  Ian frowns but drops the subject. Maybell lets Amelia step away, finally. Her behavior is truly curious. I must question her once we return to headquarters. She joins Ian in a frown. “Why are we waiting here?”

  Since Ian is the only one of us who has been to the world we seek, I defer to him to answer. If he thinks I’ll change my mind, he is wasting all of our time. Knowing nightmares are out this eve is enough of a warning to avoid them. He lifts his free hand to riffle through his hair. “We’d best be off then.”

  The disappointment in his tone sends a wary chill through me. I wish we could delay this meeting, but if Amelia and I are to move forward, we have to discover her source. If the man who raised her cannot or will not provide an answer, perhaps we will find someone in his organization who can.

  Ian sets off toward a distant portal. Leave it to him to make our journey longer than necessary. Amelia walks by his side, her arm looped through his elbow. Her demeanor is that of a woman in love. Not many would notice the slight tremor to her slender fingers. My only wish is to comfort her, but it is better for her to stay guarded when walking into the den of an enemy.

  My hands won’t stop shaking, no matter how many times I tell myself everything will be okay. I knew going into this mission there would be risks. I’m just not so sure I’m willing to take them anymore. Seth hasn’t said a word to me since we found him and Maybell. His pensive silence is not typical, but neither is Ian’s lack of enthusiasm for danger.

  He’s such a baby. Every now and again, he inspects his completely healed hand. He still hasn’t even mentioned where we’re going. Maybell and Seth seem fine with the lack of direction, but for all we know, he could be leading us straight into Daegan’s hands. At the thought of him, my stomach drops to my toes. But really, he’s not the worst thing out there. He’s at least semi normal. Volos, on the other hand, is vile in every way. Even while I think it, my body hums with an electrical anticipation to see the creature again. No one could dare call the thing a simple man.

  As bad as Erobos are to face, my father is worse. I don’t care about Erobos. I wish I didn’t care about my father. It doesn’t matter if someone else turns out to be the man who got my mom pregnant. Whoever he was didn’t stick around. He probably doesn’t even know I exist.

  With each errant thought, my muscles stiffen and my breath catches until I take in tiny puffs of air. We’re nearly to the last portal. Ten feet away I stop, pinch my eyes shut, and make myself take a long, deep breath.

  Ian’s voice whispers way too close, “Are you okay, Amelia?” I’d love to tell him what he most likely wants to hear, but my throat is so tight all I can do is nod. Warm fingers brush over mine, then grip to pull me in. His hands press me against him. It’s the kind of hug a brother gives a sister, which I’m thankful for. “It’s going to be okay,” he says, but the uncertainty in his tone doesn’t help my anxiety. I nod again, and he lets me go.

  No matter how bad it gets, I can always use my word. I chose something no one else is likely to know. I’ve also gotten used to saying my word in my mind instead of the actual word I’ve chosen, just in case others have Ian’s abilities. I’m not sure if someone could stop me from severing my connection to the Dreamscape, but I’m not willing to take the chance.

  He dips his head closer and lowers his voice a bit more. “Amelia, we need to go in first.”

  With how amped up I am, he’s lucky he’s not getting another jab to the nose for startling me. I shoot a glare at him, which makes him step back. “Fine,” I say in a huff and take off.

  He’s at my side immediately, slowing my pace with his hand at my elbow. Before we even step through the gate, my father’s green eyes flash in my mind, along with the arrogant smirk he’d given me when he told me I could do anything . . . even fly.

  I can’t do this. I stop again, only moments from entering a world where the one man I never wanted to see again, thought I would never see again, supposedly lives. Not only that, Ian said he’s young. How could he be? I’m not sure I can take facing him, even though he should be the one sweating it.

  Seth is at my back, whispering encouragement; no, he’s telling me to hit the kill switch. “Use your word, Amelia. I’ll meet you at home.”

  My head snaps around, and our eyes lock. He’s totally serious. He’s willing to let this go because I’m being a wuss. It’s enough of a jolt for me to get a grip. I straighten and shake my head. “I’m fine.” Steeling my courage, I walk through the gate.

  Ian jumps in behind me, clasping my waist before we make it through to the other side. My head whirls from the travel and the anticipation in my soul.

  Bright light stings my vision until I have to cover my eyes to get the blinking under control. The air is crisp, like an early fall morning with the musky scent of wet leaves. It takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust enough for me to open them at all. Little by little the scenery takes shape . . . thick woods in the distance . . . a nearly frozen lake to the right . . . and Brock, frowning at me.

  He detaches himself from the tree he’s leaning against. When he gets closer, I let out a tiny gasp. His face is blotchy with hints of bruises under his left eye and along his jaw on the other side. When he speaks, his tone matches his demeanor. “I was beginning to think I’d have to come get you.” He’s completely ignoring everyone but me. The stare he gives me barters no leeway. “We need to hurry.”

  He’s so demanding that my inner snark kicks in. “Or what?” Wait a minute, why is he looking at me? When I glance over my shoulder, Maybell’s disguise is gone. She’s her usual tall, yellow self. I stare at my hands and search for Seth, who has gone pale. What happened? I ask inside my head, hoping either he or Ian is monitoring me.

  My only answer comes from Ian. Our cover is blown.

  Brock groans, lifting his face toward the bright sky. “There isn’t time for explanations. Come on.”

  Since I’m me again, there’s no reason to pretend to be Ian’s arm candy. I cock a hip, lifting my thumbnail to my teeth. His mother should have done a better job of teaching him manners. “Please . . .”

  Another groan from him followed by a punch to the air makes my lips twitch. “Please! Look, I’ve already gone through hell today because of you. Don’t you have a soul?”

  I roll my eyes. “Maybe you should consider boxers from now on, drama queen.”

  His big browns — ha. They are brown. I knew he was totally playing me before. His eyes bug, and his lips twist into a disgusted frown. “If you had any idea what I’ve been through . . . ”

  Pinning him with a stare, I cross my arms and grunt. “Do you really think I care what you’ve been through today . . . or I don’t know . . . ever? Brock, you are the worst protector on the planet. You’ve done nothing for me, just like the scumbag who hired you. I don’t want to be here, but I am. I don’t want to chat. I don’t want to know about your day, your wife and kids, or your overgrown bunion. Just take me to my dad, then leave me the hell alone.”

  Amazingly, he lets out a huff, as if I’ve offended him. Seriously? This guy deserves a few more bruises if you ask me. With greetings out of the way, we follow Mr. Douche himself into the dark and dreary forest. Could my dad be anymore lame? The place is meant to frighten. I’m really not in the mood, so I fill it with chirping sparrows and light posts scattered here and there.

  Brock turns and frowns again. I refrain from giving him the bird, but I do offer a long view of my tongue. He shakes his head but keeps going. The walk to wherever he’s taking us is long, and pretty soon we’re traversing sharp rocks and fallen limbs. The instant I twist my ankle, I replace the whole thing with a nice shredded bark pathway. I’m not going to break my neck before I even get there.

  He sp
ins, giving me an acidic stare. “Stop!”

  No one has commented until now. Seth pushes between me and Ian. “Perhaps you should think about how you are going to handle your father instead of antagonizing his minion.”

  I laugh. Seth shakes his head. Brock shoots a glare at me intended to threaten. I smile.

  Seth nudges me. His eyes tell me to shut up and be serious. I should, but if I let myself live completely in this moment, I’ll totally freak out. No one needs me losing it, especially not Seth. I clench my teeth and don the expression of a mobster on the hunt. “I’ve got it under control.”

  His eyes cut away from mine. Disappointment corrodes my veins. Couldn’t he at least try to be subtle about his total lack of confidence in me? It doesn’t matter. He’s only known me the last few years. I’ve got more to me than he understands.

  We walk in silence after that, which I’m absolutely okay with. It gives me a chance to think, like he wanted me to. Too bad all I can conjure are images of me biting the grass at ten miles per hour. Even now, my body recoils against the impact. With the memory, my mind retreats, like it always does.

  Cool fingers curl around mine. I look up to Maybell smiling. Her expression would be reassuring under different circumstances. I squeeze her hand, unsure of what to think about the way she’s been acting. One minute she’s so agitated I think her head might explode, and the next, she’s fine, calming even. So why is it in this moment, she scares me?

  She leans down. “Don’t let him get to you, Amelia. You’re stronger than any of these people. Remember it, and you will be fine.”

  I nod, pat her hand, then extricate myself from her. Something’s wrong. I can’t say she has Eros inside her, but she isn’t the woman I met not that long ago. I give her the only thing I can right now. A trite, “Thanks.”

  When we finally make it through the forest, the space opens into a vast valley with an enormous city in the center. Perimeter lights appear sparsely, swirling toward the center like a galaxy in the making. The hub glows bright, beckoning us closer. I never knew darkness could impersonate light, but as I stare over this metropolis, my insides wither from the lack of hope. We really are journeying to the very heart of the beast.

  This world is not what it seems. Darkness slithers under the brilliant surface. Whoever designed the place is a master. Ian wasn’t kidding when he said Amelia’s father had made his own kingdom. Most dreamers orchestrate elaborate worlds, but the connection is within their own awareness. The presence here comes from somewhere distant, yet it is omnipresent, as if the world belongs to the man. He’s corrupted an innocent’s mind. From the rumors about him, I shouldn’t be surprised, yet the man has been able to shield his activities in this world. How many others has he conquered?

  For the first time, I realize I have a new enemy. Ian is wrong. He is not Erobos. He is nothing I’ve encountered. His energy is too free to be a known entity. Anger flares inside me at my stupidity. I should tell Amelia to cut her connection, but since we are here, we should discover as much about the man as we can.

  Not long after we enter the open expanse of the city, a slender, silver starship comes for us. The air pulses in its wake, ruffling my hair about my face. I push it away from my eyes to get a better view of the craft.

  The nose is pointed like a jet fighter, and the wings flare wide to taper back until they reach the tail. It stops to hover, then lowers to a few feet above the swaying grass below. It is not tethered to the world, but it no longer sways, as if landing gears have been lowered.

  A low hiss followed by a loud thump heralds the door’s opening. It slides up gracefully until it’s tucked away. Shadows swirl inside until one takes shape against the backdrop of a blinding interior. The man walks to the platform and is lowered to the ground. Only when he steps away from the craft can I make out any features. He’s tall with dark, disheveled hair, bringing to mind legends of dark creatures from my past. His eyes, green like Amelia’s, search until they spy her. She stands beside me, a look of horror flashing across her features for only an instant.

  Ignoring the rest of us, he rushes to her to wrap her in what should be a warm embrace. She remains stoic, her body rigid in his arms. His fingers brush down the line of her hair. Her name comes out of him in a withered hush. “Amelia.”

  Her voice is tight. “Dad.”

  He clasps her shoulders to push her away and, most likely, assess her. “I’ve been waited too long to see you again.”

  A pink tongue darts out to wet her lips. “I wasn’t the one who left. In fact, I thought you were dead.”

  His expression softens. “I can’t explain everything right now, but there was a good reason I distanced myself. Once they got your mother, I had to do something. It was the only option I knew would keep you safe.” With a condescending flick of his head, he stares at me as if I am the evil in the space. “I’m sorry for your upbringing, but — ”

  “Save it,” says Amelia. “I don’t really care. I had Justine. It was enough.”

  He gives a grave nod. I glance at Amelia, worried for her wellbeing. Trying to redirect the conversation, I ask, “Would you please introduce us? I haven’t had the occasion to meet your father.”

  Amelia snaps a look at me, and I offer an encouraging smile. She takes a deep breath. Motioning from me to the man she says, “Seth, meet Malcolm Blake, my father. Dad, Seth, my . . . boyfriend.”

  I laugh, then extend my hand. “Fiancé is more accurate. I’d like to say it is good to meet you, sir; however, under the circumstances, I am not so sure.”

  The man, who looks more like Amelia’s brother than her father, gives a short chuckle, turning toward the ship. “Likewise, Seth. Come. I expected you hours ago. The outskirts of the city are not safe this time of night.”

  Somehow I think it is always night in his realm. We should have had a level of surprise, but apparently someone informed him about our plans. I glance around, wondering who the traitor is, or perhaps Ian didn’t go as unnoticed as he thought. Malcolm’s head turns slowly until he stares into my eyes. The cold, hard look sends a chill through me, but I am not the first man to glance away. He is apparently not accustomed to hiding his emotions. All the better for me.

  Amelia follows him into the ship. I trail them with Maybell after me and Ian, then Brock. The light intensifies until Amelia throws an arm over her eyes to shield them. I keep one eye open. Only a man hiding something would create such a diversion. At about the time I enter the ship, an object comes into view between the outside and interior. Not an object — a person, a small girl tucked away. She cowers low, but her brilliant blue eyes snatch hold of mine.

  A gasp wants to crawl up my throat, but I keep my gaze sliding until at last it lands on Malcolm. The diseased filth is covering his stench using this little girl’s light. It must be extraordinary to accomplish such a deed.

  Brock swiftly pushes us along until we are all seated in one of the twenty or so plush chairs lining the perimeter of the ship. In the center is a long, narrow table without any ornamentation. The way the ship is designed affords every person to see the other from one angle or another. Malcom takes a seat opposite Amelia, while I occupy the one beside her. Maybell and Ian find their places a few seats away, and Brock plants himself a couple chairs from his self-named king. We’re all comfortably seated, yet I dare say none of us are exactly comfortable.

  The door slides closed, and we take off. With no seatbelts, Amelia crashes into me. I steady her to give her father more of an idea whom he is dealing with. His jaw muscles jump, but he swiftly covers the motion with a small smile, which he offers Amelia. “Thanks for coming, child. You have many questions, I know. All will be revealed in time, but one very important question must be answered now. I did not abandon you. I left you with a friend who was supposed to raise you.”

  Amelia scoffs. “You are so full of it, even now. The state took me away. No friend of yours came to get me.” She sniffs in a deep breath, her hands clenching in her lap. “No one did,
except Justine, and that was at least two years after you . . . supposedly died.”

  Her answer can’t be easy to take, but he does a fair job of it. “Those are not your true memories, my daughter. They were given to you to protect you.” He glances to Brock, who shows a toothy grin. “I trust you have been able to keep your distance from this creature. I gave you the ability, child.”

  I stand, unable to take the lies spewing from his wretched mouth. “I am not the monster in this room.”

  He levels his gaze with mine. “You all are creatures, and you all must fall for us to survive.”

  Amelia cries out in pain moments before something stabs into my neck. A maniacal laugh flutters on the edge of my consciousness before I’m lost to darkness.

  A distant voice calls, beckoning me out of the surround of consoling peace. I push deeper to keep away from the person. The words offer no comfort. Only this place is safe. Maybe I should stay here forever.

  My cocoon is usually dark, but today it’s filled with light brighter than the sun. A warm glow encircles me, blocking out the voice and the memories pulling at my mind. My thoughts swirl in a liquid slideshow of rainbows and flowers and a waterfall so tall I can barely see the top. I smile. I haven’t seen the place in a long while.

  No. That’s not right. I’ve been there a lot, with Seth.

  Seth.

  A jolt of hysteria reaches inside me, threatening to break the fragile bubble keeping me from my enemies . . . from the only father I’ve ever known.

  “The man is not your blood, Amelia. I am.”

  I turn at the deep sound behind me. The person I’ve been searching for my whole life stands only feet away, his clear green eyes penetrating. At once my body fills with electric chills which wind to fill every crevice. Knowledge, pure and right, springs forth from my mind to my lips. “Dad?” Tears burn against my eyes, but I push them back. I don’t want to miss one single second of seeing him. He closes the distance between us to pull me into a hug so encompassing I’m swallowed up in his love. Different memories of my real father bombard my mind, obliterating the false images Malcolm installed. My mom, smiling so big her eyes crinkle at the corners and her lips spread thin. A laugh full of joy. A life I once lived. “What—”