The Underworld (Rhyn Eternal)

by Lizzy Ford

  What he did know: she belonged where she was, in his arms, her warm, feminine body pressed close enough that he was able to smell her familiar scent. He filled his senses with her, a tremor of resentment and anger lingering despite his attempt to push their rocky history out of his thoughts. He’d vowed once not to let his past rule him. He thought he’d been relatively successful, until the Lake showed him images that made the intense emotions bubble up again.

  There were no more lies between them, no more secrets. Knowing this did little to ease the ache he experienced whenever he thought of her. There was so much damage and history between them …

  Unable to dispel his troubled thoughts, he simply held her, grateful to know she was safe and in his arms once more.

  “Did you retake the palace?” she asked, voice muffled against his chest.

  “No. I came with a few Immortals and a particularly hungry Dark One.”

  “That’s it?” she pulled away to stare at him, startled. “Gabriel, how can we take back our home?”

  “I have a plan. Trust me,” he growled, irked as much by her critical tone as he was her too accurate question.

  She studied him briefly. “Okay. I do.” Without another word, she moved away from his embrace towards the souls.

  “That’s it? You’ll trust me?” he echoed.

  “Yes. Without question.”

  Impressed, he joined her at the pedestal. “I’ve never heard those words from you.”

  “I figure it’ll soften the blow when I tell you the demon and I are using the weapons you kept up here.”

  He hissed. “Those were rare, collector’s items in mint condition spanning several millennia of search efforts.”

  She held up an Elisian knife proudly. “I can almost use it, too.”

  “That’s … good,” he managed.

  She went to sheathe the blade and dropped it, point down, on the floor.

  “Oh, gods, woman, be careful with that shit,” he grumbled.

  “I got it.” She lifted it to show him then put it away carefully. “Jared was teaching me how to hack off limbs with them.”

  Gabriel glanced at her.

  “Barbaric.” Her features skewed. “But I’ll do it. I’ll defend you and the underworld, even if I must behave like a savage.”

  He hid a smile. She was uncertain but determined, her arrogant edge dampened by sorrow. The mix was enchanting, her honesty, absentminded humor and dedication to her duty reminding him why he’d fallen in love with her long ago in the first place. There was a new, raw edge to her as well, one he didn’t know how to read. It was neither despair nor vulnerability, and for the first time since he’d known her, she was completely, utterly open to him.

  “We’ll be alright,” he promised her, wrapping an arm around her once more. “I really expected more of this place.”

  “Maybe there is more,” she said, frustrated. “I can’t remember. You can monitor the Sanctuaries and in-between places from there.” She pointed to a low table lined with bowls. “Your soul goes here, whenever you find it.”

  He grimaced. “You searched?”

  “Of course. It’s the first thing I did,” she said, gazing up at him. “You can’t love me yet, but I love you, Gabriel. I wouldn’t let them hurt you. I’ve never let anyone hurt you and I never will. You may not have known that, but it’s true.”

  “I think that’s my job now.”

  “Oh, no. I’ll always take care of you,” she replied archly.

  He’d spent his life feeling the emotion that was displayed on her face. She wasn’t the woman he fell in love with. She was becoming the woman he’d wished she’d been.

  “But yours wasn’t here,” she added and returned her attention to the souls.

  “Harmony has it.”

  “No.” At the odd note in her voice, he waited. “I almost think … Deidre has it. I told her where it was, and she was taken away.” She drifted off. “They returned her to the dungeon, to the cells at the back, and she escaped with … someone. I didn’t see her again after she left our cell to ask her about your soul.”

  “If you didn’t see her, how do you know this?” he asked.

  She hesitated. “It’s hard to explain. I was able to dreamwalk. No one could see me, but I could go anywhere and even get the keys to our cell.”

  “You were always good at being a ghost in your realm and spying on your dealers. Maybe you retained the ability.”

  “I was spying on you to make sure there was no one else.”

  “That’s not creepy,” he replied wryly. “There never was. Only you.”

  She ducked her head to hide a smile, face growing pink. “I know.”

  “About Deidre …” he started and then stopped.

  She tensed. “They did something horrible to her, before she escaped.”

  “Horrible?”

  “There was blood everywhere.”

  Gabriel’s stomach filled with the weight of dread, but he didn’t let himself dwell long on it. If he hadn’t restricted the Dark One’s magic in the underworld, there would be no underworld left when Darkyn found out.

  “She’s okay?” he asked.

  “She seemed to be.”

  “Darkyn won’t flip out then.”

  Past-Death stared at him. “I can’t believe you brought that thing into my underworld.”

  “My underworld,” he corrected. “He wouldn’t let me access the portal through Hell otherwise.”

  “I hope you have a plan with how to deal with him!”

  “I do. Trust me.”

  It took longer for her to say the words this time. “Okay. I do.”

  Maybe she’s serious. “You said she escaped with someone from the dungeon? Fate went down to look for other occupants. Any idea who he wants to find?”

  Past-Death shook her head. “I can’t recall. There were two. One is dead, the other a female deity I felt the need to lock up for some reason. I hope Fate finds her and gets his ass kicked.”

  “And you don’t know where Deidre is?”

  “No. The demon wanted to find her, too, but we don’t know where to start looking here.”

  She looked at him, a little too long, and Gabriel lifted his eyes to hers.

  “It kills me to see you sad,” he said, softening.

  “It’s deserved.”

  He took her hand and squeezed it. “I don’t think it’s as bad as you think.”

  Past-Death arched an eyebrow at him.

  “Aside from losing your soul and the underworld being ready to implode, I think things between us are better than they’ve been,” he said with a touch of his dark humor.

  “That’s awful, Gabriel.” Her features skewed, as if she wasn’t certain whether she wanted to cry or laugh.

  “There are no more secrets.”

  “No, there aren’t,” she agreed. “Why did it take the world crashing down around us for us to really see each other?”

  “Because you’re the most stubborn fucking person in the universe.”

  This time, she did laugh.

  Gabriel gazed at her, the thrum of his mating bond to her strong and sure. He always struggled to keep the distance he thought was warranted between them, aware that trusting her was how he normally ended up fucked up. Her laugh melted the iciness around his heart, made him yearn to take a chance on the partner he believed her capable of being.

  Human Deidre had called them both selfish, and he realized how true it was. Obsessed with one another, he and past-Death both had blinders on when it came to dealing with anything that got between them.

  “Are we still dysfunctional?” past-Death asked somewhat sadly.

  “A little, yeah.”

  “Did you ever think maybe that’s the way we’re supposed to be?”

  Gabriel chuckled. “As long as we can trust one another, I don’t care what shade of dysfunction we are.”

  “I promise never to lie to you again, Gabriel. Or deceive you or to twist the truth or manipulate you,�
�� she said solemnly. “Does that help?”

  “It’s a start.”

  Past-Death sighed. “Humans are so fucking slow at everything.”

  Gabriel smiled. He loved her spirit as much as her laugh, but nothing yet had proven to him that she was worthy of his trust. “If there’s something you want to say, I’m listening.”

  “Like … what?”

  “Anything. What’s making you sad.”

  Past-Death appeared torn for a moment before she nodded. “Maybe there is.”

  Gabriel leaned back against the wall, getting comfortable.

  “I’ve had nothing but time to think here. I’m pretty sure I owe you an apology,” she said quietly. “Probably more than one. For lying and everything.”

  “I’d say so.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “I need to apologize, too,” Gabriel said. “This entire thing with the underworld is my fault. All I had to do was walk in here, and everything would be mostly fine.”

  “I told you to,” she reminded him.

  “And that’s why I couldn’t do it.”

  Past-Death frowned.

  “I may have loved you my whole life, but I hated you, too. I think you know now as a human how not to deal with another human, especially one you like?”

  “Yeah.” Disappointed, she stared at the floor. “I hated the human part of you, because I felt like it came between us. I couldn’t control it or you completely. And I couldn’t understand it.”

  Gabriel listened.

  “I did a lot of really stupid things.” There was pain in her voice. “I don’t … regret becoming human, though, Gabriel. I’ve learned more about you in the past week than I ever knew in all the time we spent together. I’m only sorry that I lost you in the process.”

  “You say it like there’s no second chance,” he said quietly.

  “I’ve got nothing else to give, Gabe, and I don’t know what to do.”

  “I swear to you, Deidre. I’ll do everything I can to get your soul back. On my heart, on my soul, on the souls in the Lake. Whatever it takes, I’ll get it back,” he said.

  “You can’t promise me that, Gabriel. Your duty is to the underworld and its souls.”

  “And to my mate. You know how importantly I take that.”

  She studied him for a moment then looked away. “I do. I also think you let your feelings for me prevent you from being Death.”

  “Not my feelings. My past,” he said, hearing the truth in the words. “But that stops now. We’re doing this together.”

  “You’re so sweet, Gabriel,” she whispered. “You’re such a better person than I am.”

  “Stop, Deidre. Today we’re starting again. Think we can do that?”

  She nodded, though he saw the doubt on her features.

  “It’ll work. It has to. We care too much about one another for it not to,” he added softly. “Trust me?” He took her hand and squeezed it.

  Past-Death lifted her gaze to his. “Always.”

  He smiled, a flicker of hope flaring to life within him. With nothing else between them and the door closed on their past, they had a shot at making it. He felt it.

  She turned her attention to the caldron. “Your underworld needs you, Gabriel.”

  He shifted closer to her, and they both puzzled over the caldron. “You don’t remember what should happen next?”

  “No. But it can’t be that hard.” She frowned. “Maybe this is all there is? You put your soul here and it’s done?”

  He said nothing but peered more closely into the caldron, releasing her hand to lean forward. “There’s writing around the inner lip of the bowl.”

  Past-Death leaned forward as well. “Definitely ancient Immortal script.”

  Gabriel ran his thumb over the geometric writing to loosen the grunge of time that had sunk into the grooves. “Finally. Maybe someone else left me instructions.” Whoever carved the wording into the bowl had been kind enough to use Immortal script rather than the script of the deities, which originated from the time-before-time.

  He searched until he found the start of the sentence. “Death must swear to the deities by one of The Three Laws to protect all souls and to perform his sacred duty until the underworld chooses another.” He reread it to ensure his translation was generally accurate. “The underworld chooses another. So you didn’t pick me?”

  “Missing memory.” Past-Death tapped her temple. “But it definitely signaled to me I was out when the sky cracked. I trusted you above everyone to take my place. Whether I was influenced by something …” She shrugged. “No way for me to know.”

  Gabriel dwelt on the revelation. “This is why a boy of human origin was permitted to enter the underworld in the first place without being dead or losing his soul. It chose me the day you took me in, didn’t it?”

  The idea his appointment was planned from the day he entered Death’s service at the age of seventeen and not a knee-jerk reaction by a manipulative, vengeful goddess made the world around him seem to stop.

  I’ve been waiting for someone to say they made a mistake. He hadn’t realized it until this moment, that his frustration and resentment with the overwhelming job were born as much of self-doubt as they were feeling ill-fitted to the position of Death. Some small part of him believed what every other Immortal and deity told him about no human belonging in the seat of a deity.

  He hadn’t been able to trust past-Death’s judgment enough to believe that maybe there was a greater plan in motion, hadn’t believed that not only was he the right person for this job but the only person the underworld would accept.

  You are both anomalies, created at just the right time, and given just the right power you need to forever alter the Future. Fate had said. The deity was known for being melodramatic, but Gabriel saw his words in a new light.

  Like Deidre, he hadn’t been born. He’d been created by some deity with a higher purpose. His battle wasn’t with the underworld but with himself.

  What if this chain of events hadn’t started when he was a teen but before that – at his birth? What if he had always been destined to become the first ever Death of human origin that ever existed?

  “I think I understand now,” he said in a hushed tone, humbled by the idea that his life meant so much more than he ever knew.

  “I can see it on your face.” Past-Death smiled. “I really want to take credit for this moment.” She took his hand again.

  “Me, too,” Fate said from behind them. “In fact, I think I will.”

  “You,” Deidre growled, facing him.

  Gabriel took another moment of peace, before he, too, confronted Fate. “That’s why you wanted me to come here first,” he said.

  “One of the reasons,” Fate admitted. “The other was so I can see you take the oath.”

  “By one of the three original laws from the time-before-time.”

  “Yes. It’s a historical moment, or will be.” Fate smiled. “The first human to become a deity. Don’t frown, honey.”

  Past-Death was scowling at him. “I don’t remember why, but I know not to trust you.”

  “You’d be right,” Gabriel replied firmly.

  Fate winked at past-Death. “No hard feelings, as long as you acknowledge that I won.”

  Gabriel said nothing, studying the god. He thought twice about asking the question he wanted to ask. Namely, if past-Death had created Deidre, who created him?

  But he didn’t think the answer was going to be one he liked. Deidre had gone through nothing but heartache since discovering she was made to be a stand in by a goddess with one purpose. He didn’t want to think about what went into making him a possibility.

  “You find who you were looking for in the dungeon?” he asked instead.

  “Yes, who is in the dungeon?” past-Death seconded.

  “No one now.”

  “Don’t be an ass,” she snapped.

  “Two deities you locked up, one with my help. The other … even I don’t know
what your vendetta might’ve been. No one picks a fight with him, except for the Dark One.”

  “Aaaaahhhh,” Past-Death murmured. “I bet that’s why. Some part of my elaborate deal with the past-Dark One or Darkyn.”

  “Who were they?” Gabriel asked.

  “Karma, who escaped, and Peace, who appears to be dead-dead,” Fate replied.

  “Karma,” past-Death repeated with a shiver. “I remember not liking her either.”

  “You picked a fight with Peace?” Gabriel demanded.

  “I’m sure I had a reason.” She shrugged. “When you hold the souls of the deities in your hands, you really don’t care who you fight with now, do you?”

  “Death killed Peace, fittingly enough.” Fate grinned.

  Just when I think she can’t surprise me … Gabriel eyed her. “Is Karma dangerous?”

  “Very. My sister has none of the restraint I do in general,” Fate replied.

  “Sister. She’ll be thrilled to see you again.” Gabriel drew a deep breath. “Okay. First things first: the oath. Second, I’m going to give the death dealers a chance not to spend eternity in Hell.”

  Past-Death gave him a long look, and Fate raised an eyebrow.

  Gabriel pulled a knife from its sheath. “How does this work? I cut myself and say the words?”

  “Cut, immerse your hand in water then say it,” Fate directed. “You’ll be introducing yourself to the gods and goddesses of eras past, sealing your commitment with two of the three laws.”

  “Three,” past-Death corrected him.

  “Whatever.”

  Mates-blood-fate. Gabriel shifted back to the caldron, his heart pounding as he realized he was about to take the final step to seal his position as Death. His mate flanked him on one side while Fate went to his other.

  With a deep breath, he sliced his hand with the knife and lowered it into the water. Souls rose up to greet him, caught in invisible currents, while his blood twisted and twirled like red ribbons into the depths of the bowl.

  “I swear by the Three Laws to protect all souls and perform my sacred duty until the underworld chooses another,” he repeated quietly.

  More souls rose up. As each brushed his hand, a flurry of images crossed his mind, before the soul floated back to the bottom of the bowl.

  He closed his eyes, unable to register exactly what it was they were sharing with him. The visions were too fleeting, the messages too faint, but he watched and listened anyway. As he did, he became aware of something else: the quiet flow of knowledge from a second source.