by Lizzy Ford
How he felt no longer mattered, not when the souls were suffering as they were.
“When you say it, it doesn’t sound that bad.” Gabriel flashed him a half smile and rose.
“I imagine you already know what to do?” Andre asked curiously.
“Stay out of my head, Immortal. I raised you but can render you dead-dead just as fast,” Gabriel growled in warning.
“It was a guess only.” Andre sounded entertained. “Whatever it is, I suggest you find a way to knock it out before things get worse.”
Gabriel’s thoughts went first to his estranged mate and then to the door he was supposed to walk through in order to become a true deity. Of the two of them, he’d rather take a chance on the door. It was much harder for him to determine how to handle his anger and hurt, let alone cut that emotional baggage out of his life completely.
Putting aside his emotions, he refocused on what they needed to be doing. “You alone or is Tamer with you?”
“He’ll be along shortly, I believe.”
“Wait here.” Gabriel strode to the edge of the forest and paused, not about to smack into another wall of branches, if the Lake wasn’t done with him yet. “The only way I can fix things is if you let me through,” he whispered to the forest.
He waited. The forest sounded normal. Taking one step then a second forward, he almost sighed. Nothing moved to block his path. It was one thing to know what was wrong, quite another to understand how to fix it.
Human emotions weren’t that easy to manipulate. The resentment he felt towards his mate seemed too much to overcome, and yet, he knew he’d never stopped loving her, either, no matter what she’d done to him over the course of tens of thousands of years. No matter how many other men she fucked in the bed she shared with him or how she constantly manipulated him.
The problem was human Deidre. Sacrificing an innocent woman, one Gabriel had started to fall for, only to have her ripped away and the greatest lie in the universe revealed. He was able to forgive almost anything his mate did to him, but to forgive Past-Death for hurting Deidre …
His feelings became a jumbled mess whenever he tried to process it. Deidre had found a home with the Dark One, but that didn’t alleviate the guilt and responsibility Gabriel felt.
How do you let go of the past that easily?
How did he accept his fate when it meant being okay with what past-Death had done?
Because the goddess who did those things is not the same as the human that replaced her. The thought wasn’t new, but it was getting easier to swallow.
As if hearing the thought, a path cleared before him, leading towards the palace.
“That’s the key, isn’t it? It’s not just whatever is in that room. It’s taking a chance on someone I already love.”
The trees went silent for a split second then began to move again.
“You’re a shitty matchmaker,” he told the underworld. “You ready, Andre?” he called over his shoulder.
“I am.”
“Come with me.” Gabriel started walking. “There’s something I have to do at the palace. I’ve been fighting my fate since the first day and unknowingly made things worse. I’ve gotta fix it.”
“Gabriel.”
“I know. I should’ve –”
“Gabriel. The trees don’t want me following you.”
He turned to see the path blocked once more, dividing him from Andre.
“I guess I need to do this alone,” he said under his breath. “Andre, find Rhyn and Darkyn. Make sure they make it to the palace without gutting each other.”
“I will do my best.”
“I’ll see you all there.” Gabriel shook his head, amused at how vocal his underworld was being after shutting him out for so long. He needed all the help he could get right now, if he was going to make things right once and for all.
The pride of a master who wished his domain to acknowledge him stirred once more, and he considered how to handle his challenges. Smashing everything between him and the palace sounded fantastic.
Except he’d never make it in one piece. Not only that, but every time he tried to fight to get somewhere, he ended up knocked on his ass. No, he’d have to take a much more subdued approach to execute his priorities. First the door he’d feared entering, then his mate and finally, the rebelling dealers.
I was ready to forgive her. The thought dragged his focus from the underworld into his thoughts once more. He’d been ready to move on with past-Death despite her admission of how she condemned Deidre to Hell.
She’d one time despised the human side of him. She’d not only gotten over it, but became what she hated most in order to be with him. Likewise, he’d have to accept the ugly side of who she had been if he was to fall again for who she’d become.
He dwelled on it, instincts monitoring his surroundings for any sign of danger. Content to let his mind think, his innate abilities warned him, and he whirled. One of his death dealers, a man built like a bowling ball, stood a safe distance behind him.
“Tymkyn,” he said, straightening out of his fighting stance.
“Hey, boss. You’re hard to track.”
Gabriel eyed him, aware he didn’t know which death dealers he was able to trust yet. “Mind check,” he said, referring to the method he used to ravage a dealer’s mind to make sure he was loyal.
Tymkyn bowed his head without hesitation.
Gabriel rested a hand on his head briefly before removing it. “I thought we’d lost you. You went silent.”
“I couldn’t get out!” Tymkyn exclaimed. Short, wide and ugly with a bulbous nose, the strong death dealer was Gabriel’s best tracker, capable of navigating the changing landscape of the moody underworld. “Wasn’t going through Hell again.”
Gabriel smiled at his trusted hunter’s distraught tone.
“Rhyn told me to find you.” Tymkyn’s expression changed, grew proud and beaming. “There are sixty death dealers here who refused Harmony’s takeover. They’re all that remain of the hundred that are loyal to you. She’s been systematically tracking them and killing them.”
“Sixty.” Gabriel kept his tone even.
The number made some part of him weep. There were over a thousand death dealers in existence. About forty were trapped in the human realm, another few picked off by demons. Only sixty in the underworld remained loyal.
Tymkyn waited, excited by the news that filled Gabriel with sorrow.
Because, when this was over, those rebelling would be killed, which meant he’d experience another crisis trying to collect souls. It was more than that, though. It was the knowledge he’d have a hand in killing seven to eight hundred of the men and women who had become his colleagues over the years.
My duty is to something much higher. The souls, he reminded himself.
“That’s good, Tymkyn,” he said. “Great job locating them.”
Tymkyn’s smile widened. “I will take you to them!”
“No,” Gabriel said quickly. “I cannot stray from my path right now.”
“But you’re headed to the palace with all of Harmony’s dealers. Alone.”
“I’m Death.”
Tymkyn snorted. “You can still take a sword to the heart. Let me go. It would be the greatest honor to become a member of your vanguard.”
Gabriel clapped him on the shoulder, the man’s earnestness touching him. “You will, when this is over. For now, I have a matter I have to take care of before I attack them outright. Can you bring the others to my cabin?” he asked, referring to the tiny, wooden home where he’d lived, outside the palace, for hundreds of years. “Stay hidden and await my signal.”
“I’d like to object, boss.”
“I know, and I thank you for your concern. Consider this an order.”
Tymkyn frowned. “I’ll gather them now. What will your signal be?”
“I have a feeling you won’t be able to miss it,” Gabriel said with some humor, knowing how big of a bang he’d make when Harmony’
s men realized he was in their midst. “Quickly.”
Tymkyn nodded and dashed into the brush.
Pleased to have one dealer remaining as his ally, Gabriel started towards the palace once more. There were secret passages only Death and her lover of a few thousand years knew about. He’d take them to reach the closet where his magic lay waiting.
And then he’d issue an ultimatum to Harmony and her dealers: lay down their arms or face the wrath of Death and Hell.
Chapter Nine
Andre walked for three hours along the trail leading from the Lake of Souls in the direction the demons had gone. With a knack for tracking the creatures, he knew when he was close, even before the two appeared on the path before him.
Darkyn and Rhyn were in the middle of a stare down with one another, growling and poised as if for a fight, despite the fact they had neither the time nor luxury of postponing their real mission to see which creature was stronger.
Andre wasn’t surprised by the scene. Demons were temperamental creatures, prone to acting out of instinct primarily and viewing the world and everything in it as either belonging to them or beneath them. They were hardest to deal with when hungry, agitated or hunting, circumstances when their emotions were rawer than usual, and logic was generally lost on them. These two in particular were immensely powerful – and stubborn.
Andre’s urge to calm those around him was born more out of necessity than anything else. A powerful empath, negative emotions clung to him like his shadow. He picked up on the feelings of others even without diving into their minds, and their instability managed to disrupt his own inner peace. It was like swallowing poison.
The eldest of the Immortals on the Council That Was Seven, Andre had honed his ability and self-control over thousands of years. What once drove him over the edge was now simply a nuisance. He hadn’t dulled his sensitivity, simply learned to bear the fruits of feeling what those around him did with patience and compassion.
But never weakness. Inaction and fear were never part of who he was, even when facing down two demons strong enough to crush him.
“Does winning the Toughest Demon Award somehow transport you out of here?” he asked calmly of the two bristling demons.
Rhyn’s jaw ticked, a sign he’d heard, while Darkyn remained motionless.
“You’re right. This is a much better use of your time than rescuing Darkyn’s mate or preventing the world from collapsing when Harmony succeeds in her mission.”
That did it. His casual tone drew both of their hostile gazes.
Andre smiled gently, ignoring the anger he sensed directed now at him. Just as their emotions had an effect on him, his had the same effect on those around him. Another reason to always remain calm and open.
“Are you ready to do what we’re here for?”
Neither responded.
“The trees want us to go west. If they have a west in the underworld.” He glanced at the suns that had been frozen in the sky for a few hours before starting forward. “I’ll be at the palace, whenever you all care to join me.”
Stepping by them, he started into the forest, confident they’d follow.
“No offense, Andre, but you can be a real dick.” Rhyn was the first to trail him. “You know I’d chop off your head to claim the Toughest Demon Award, don’t you?”
“I know there’s no love lost between you and any of your brothers, Rhyn,” Andre replied. “But also that you are duty bound and will honor our shared blood even if you dislike me for who I am.”
“A weakness I do not share,” Darkyn growled. His voice was close enough to assure Andre he, too, followed. “The Toughest Demon Award doesn’t exist. If it did, it’d go to the Dark One by default.”
“I am so fucking ready to take off your head after what you tried to do to my Katie!” Rhyn snarled.
“Focus, Rhyn. And Darkyn, you’re weakening quickly,” Andre said carefully, aware of how little he wanted a long lasting grudge from the Dark One when they left the underworld. “Your strength is better spent not fighting my shit head of a brother.”
“Shit head? Really?” Rhyn grumbled. “I think Andre just called you a pussy, Darkyn.”
“Hush, Rhyn,” Andre chided. “We have more important issues to deal with.”
“Harmony, death dealers, and two powerful deities about to lose their shit.”
“There’s something else here, too. Something I can’t figure out.”
“What can you sense, demon hunter?” Darkyn demanded.
“He can track your ass even in Hell,” Rhyn replied, bristling once more.
“Be calm, Rhyn.” Andre shook his head. “Darkyn knows one of my gifts but perhaps not the other.”
“What is this gift?” Darkyn asked.
“Andre can suck up your emotions then crack your head open with them,” Rhyn summarized. “He can read minds sometimes, too.”
“Empath,” Darkyn supplied.
“Exactly,” Andre said.
“You knew about Sasha.”
Another thing that always surprised Andre about demons: their candidness was never curbed by diplomacy or politeness or proper timing, the way his was. Andre and Rhyn both stopped and faced the Dark One, who ceased surveying their surroundings to return their looks warily.
“If he knew, he would’ve stopped him, before he almost destroyed the human world!” Rhyn snapped.
The name of the betrayer from the Council stirred up memories – and regret. Andre had known what his half-brother was long before Sasha openly declared his allegiance to the Dark One.
It didn’t help that Sasha had had Andre rendered dead-dead several months before. Andre hadn’t yet reconciled his emotions about that incident, despite the knowledge his half-brother paid the price with a painful death.
Darkyn was gazing at him, and Andre reminded himself that the Dark One was not just another demon. Darkyn had been around longer than even Wynn, the father of the Councilmembers.
Darkyn was from the time-before-time. For him to be one of the only remaining survivors from that era indicated he was far more cunning and dangerous than Andre was able to assess from their very few interactions. Which meant Andre had to always err on the side of caution: not giving the demon lord a reason to track him down later.
“I did know, Rhyn,” Andre said softly. “I knew the secrets of everyone around me. It’s the nature of who I am.”
Rhyn frowned at him.
“You follow the empath code,” Darkyn said with a cold smile. “I like that.”
Andre smiled politely and turned to begin walking once more. He didn’t particularly like the way Darkyn said it, but he wasn’t about to engage the demon more than necessary. Aside from their purpose there, he firmly believed in not giving power to ideas and motivations that did not benefit him.
The walked in relative quiet for a while, and Andre took in the grey underworld. He found himself missing the sun from the human realm and hoping he saw it again and had a chance to help his brothers.
Rather, had a chance to figure out what their father was doing, before he fucked up everyone again. The brothers still bore the scars of the twisted psychopath that raised them. Andre had originally sent Rhyn away when he was a child as much to save him from the Immortal world as to subdue the powers he couldn’t control. He’d done what he could to help the rest of his brothers.
He hadn’t done enough to save Sasha or Kris. Their fates and deaths weighed heavily on him despite the wisdom of knowing they chose their own paths. He hoped he had another chance to save the rest of his brothers or at least, to do what he could to help them this time around. Being dead-dead gave him time to think while resurrection provided him a second chance to act differently than he had before.
“Time’s up. Hell has a new soul,” Darkyn’s low, quiet voice tugged Andre from his thoughts.
That doesn’t sound good. Andre exchanged a look with Rhyn, not wanting to humor the demon lord. He willed his half-brother not to ask.
“Just
one new soul?” Rhyn asked.
Rhyn was always Rhyn. Andre listened, not eager to hear the exchange.
“The soul of a former deity.”
“Past-Death?”
“Yes.”
“Will fit in well with your Army of Souls.”
Darkyn didn’t reply, and Andre frowned. He’d known about the deal the two Deidres made from diving into the mind of past-Death a few days before. It was one thing to lose a deal with a demon.
It was an entirely different thing to lose a deal sealed with the Dark One’s magic. The chances of past-Death ever leaving the underworld were now gone, if she wanted to stay alive.
“The deal was between the Deidres,” he found himself saying. “Hell may own her soul, but you don’t, Darkyn.”
To his surprise, the Dark One didn’t respond with any sort of confirmation that he believed his mate capable of turning over anyone to Hell. Andre risked a glance at the creature and saw his features were pensive.
“It belongs to Hell. This is all that concerns me,” Darkyn replied with a shrug.
“A woman clip your wings, demon?” Rhyn taunted.
“She did not clip my wings, half-breed. She makes matters more interesting.”
“Wait until there’s a hatchling involved.” Rhyn grimaced. “That’s when things get interesting.”
“What else did you dig from past-Death’s brain, Immortal?” This was addressed to Andre.
“Empath code,” Andre replied calmly.
“Which is what?” Rhyn questioned.
“It’s fairly simple. Empaths are forbidden from interfering in the natural course of a person’s life without an invitation and must treat secrets like they’re sacred,” Andre replied.
“So you couldn’t tell people Sasha was going to fuck up the world, and that I wasn’t a threat. You let everyone believe I betrayed the Council, too.”
“I sent you away to protect you from the fucked up world our father created. With respect to the Council, have you seen how your brothers turned out?” Andre explained with mild humor. “Before Katie, there was no one in the universe able to keep you from destroying everything you ran across, outside of Hell.”
