by Lizzy Ford
“Oh, god!” she gasped and bent over him, fluttering kisses over his bruised face. “You can heal. Feed and heal.” She sliced her wrist for him, placing it to his lips.
He twisted his head away.
“What’re you doing? Drink!” she insisted.
“Can’t heal fast enough … here.”
“Of course you can!”
He lifted an arm. Even with a bone protruding from it, he seemed oblivious – and determined. Gripping her neck, he pulled her face to his.
“Kill me,” he said, his lips brushing her ear.
Deidre stared, uncertain she’d heard right. She cupped his face gently with both her hands, desire and hunger spinning through her again. “Darkyn, you need to feed.”
“It’s too late for that. Kill me, quickly.”
Her eyes watered, and she shook her head. “It’s not too late. You just have to do it.”
“Love, if you don’t take Hell, that fucking giant will.”
Her brow furrowed.
“Whomever defeats the Dark One, the last to strike, the last to deal, takes his place,” he explained, rasping painfully.
“No, no, no!” she whispered frantically. “Darkyn-”
He squeezed her neck, silencing her. “Quickly. I am dying.” He pulled her to his neck. “Drink until I am dead.”
Deidre’s body shook, and tears blurred her vision. She pressed her mouth to his neck, unable to resist the intoxicating scent and taste that was him.
“I’m giving you Hell, love.”
“I don’t want Hell. I want you!”
“I know. This isn’t the end.” He was fading, his voice distant, his effort to fight his death clear. “You … remember what I taught you of … deals?”
“Y…yes.”
“Make it good.”
Deidre wanted to scream at him and demand how he was able to think of deals at a time like this.
“Take Hell,” he whispered again. This time, his strain was clear. “Quickly.”
Tears raced down her face, but she focused on obeying him, praying this was part of some great plan of his. He hadn’t won Hell after a lifetime to battle only to give it up. There was more; there always was with him.
“I love you, Darkyn,” she whispered in a choked voice. Deidre closed her eyes and bit him, sucking his thick nectar into her mouth.
This isn’t the end, she repeated to herself over and over, taking some solace in the words.
She drank until his body went limp and the rattling of his breath stopped. Deidre withdrew and sat back.
“Please don’t leave me,” she whispered in a choked voice.
A cold breeze whipped by her, and she shivered. Lightning arced overhead, the explosion of its accompanying thunder making the ground rumble. Deidre instinctively moved closer to Darkyn, wanting to protect his broken body from further harm.
She rested her head on his chest and willed him to take another breath, to tell her this was some twisted joke of his. Her insides knotted and her heart felt as if it were shattering. Fresh pain pierced her hard enough to take her breath away.
This isn’t the end. She breathed in his smell and wrapped her fist in his bloodied fist, comforted by the feel of his warm body beneath. “I don’t understand, Darkyn. What am I supposed to do?” And why couldn’t you just tell me you cared about me? Was it that hard? He lied for a living. Even if he wasn’t capable of true emotion, he could’ve said the words, for her sake.
Suddenly, her concerns about being in Hell for eternity, about losing the human side of her, no longer mattered. Holding her dead lover in her arms, she realized there was really only one thing that did, and he was gone, killed trying to save her from Harmony in a domain that wasn’t even his.
Another crack of lightning made her jump.
Deidre twisted to see the sky, stunned. Clouds darker than night had begun to amass directly overhead and swirl steadily, the way they did before a massive tornado. Branches flailed in a wind strong enough to bend trees.
The wind touched everything except for her and Darkyn. Deidre watched it, not understanding what was going on. She was in the eye of the forming tornado, in relative calm while trees bowed to the gales around her. Smaller trees and bushes were uprooted and thrown into the forming funnel.
The giant was huddled against the ground, the death dealers taking shelter in the trees. Her heart fluttered with fear, but she didn’t move, not caring what happened now that Darkyn was gone.
Lightning struck closer, causing the tree nearest her to explode. The debris was swept up by the wind before it reached her. The storm took on a more ominous look, that of a black hole sucking up everything in its path.
Tears flowed down her face. Deidre watched the world being ripped a part around her and hunched over Darkyn’s body, waiting for the storm to take her as well.
I’m giving you Hell, love. No part of her cared to run Hell, but she couldn’t help wondering what he meant or why it filled her with doom.
Lightning smashed too close, and she closed her eyes once more, praying she went quickly.
One moment, the storm raged around her. The next, her body was pierced by light and pain so intense, she was thrown away from Darkyn. Hot electricity paralyzed her while the cold fire of the Dark One raced along her nerve endings, torturing and teasing, intense and overwhelming. Frozen in agony, she stared at the sky above, watching as bolts of lightning smashed into her and the clouds grew darker, larger.
Just as abruptly as it started, the sensations left. The lightning retreated to the sky and ceased, while the gathering storm remained, swirling around the black hole at its center.
Deidre gasped in breath, the hot-cold power racing through her body. She sagged, uncertain if she was grateful to be alive or disturbed she hadn’t joined Darkyn in death. The thrum of cold power she’d sensed before was stronger, wrapping around her, flowing through her, tugging at her to rise.
With some effort, she did so and stared up at the horrifying tornado forming above. The cold tendril of power was like smoke extending from the dark clouds in the sky. It wrapped around her shoulders, and she began to comprehend.
I’m giving you Hell, love.
The storm wasn’t a threat to her. It was an extension of Hell, created by the depravity existing in the underworld and feeding her power and strength.
Deidre looked down at her hands, not wanting to believe what had happened. Her nails were long and black, her hands still small and delicate like a human’s. The pouch at her waist caught her attention, and she pulled it free. Inside were the souls of Gabriel, past-Death and one more that Fate had provided her.
Gabriel and past-Death.
She looked up at the sky again. Darkyn’s soul had to be here, in the underworld.
Make it good. She’d thought he was talking nonsense in his last moment, but Darkyn was giving her a roadmap.
Hope trickled with her, along with the strange urge to level everything before her. The demon half of her step forward, the side that understood what was happening. After her experience in the underworld, there was no denying she was more than human.
A roar from behind her made her spin.
The giant had regained his sense of balance and rose out of the forest, while the rest of the death dealers clung for their dear lives to trees or boulders to keep the storm from taking them.
Deidre gazed up at the creature raising its club to crush her the way it had her mate. Cold fury unfurled within her, feeding the darkness gathering around her, and she glared at the monster.
I’m giving you Hell, love.
“There’s only one way to find out,” she said, hating the monster that took her mate from her. Uncertain how to call the power out, she pointed at the creature.
The dark smoke hovering at her feet darted after it, wrapping around its legs, while tendrils of clouds broke off from the black hole and bound the creature’s upper body. Power pulsed through her, the ecstatic experience second only to fucking Darkyn. I
t rendered her giddy, thrilled her, made her want more and more of the intense feeling to ease her pain.
“Time to feel the wrath of Hell,” she told the giant, watching with some fascination.
The tendrils grew thick and began to tighten, squeezing the life out of the monster. It bellowed and writhed but wasn’t able to break free. Finally, it gave a pain-filled scream and went limp.
Deidre braced herself against a tree to keep from being knocked to the ground by the force of its fall. The tendrils dissipated instantly, leaving behind the dead ogre.
She glanced a little uneasily at the storm overhead, wondering how she was able to control it, before turning her attention towards the palace. Squeezing the souls in her hand, she realized she now had two reasons to go that direction. The first: to destroy Harmony and seek her revenge against the death dealer responsible for taking away her bloodmate.
The second: to bargain for Darkyn’s soul.
She was tired of pain, tired of bearing the brunt of the Immortal world. This time, there was nothing to stand in the way of what she wanted, not when she brought with her the might of Hell. And there was nothing she wouldn’t do to get Darkyn back.
Deidre started forward, the storm moving with her.
This ends now.
Chapter Sixteen
You can’t leave me.
Gabriel’s eyes snapped open as the latest soul brushed his fingertips. Deidre’s voice was clear and loud compared to the whispers of the other souls. The images that passed were of the underworld ogres, allies of Death from a different era placed in hibernation long ago. Gentle giants, they were nonetheless deadly, if they chose to be. He’d met them several times during his travels, before Death gave the dying breed a permanent home in the underworld in exchange for their periodic protection.
“Something’s wrong,” Gabriel said and shifted forward. It was difficult for him to sort through the sheer volume of information entering his thoughts, the stories of souls, the images of deities. Somewhere among the voices was the steady stream of the underworld’s soft voice, a bond as strong as his was to his mate, yet subtler, quiet.
At his fingertip was the second black soul in the bowl where there had been only one before.
“Really wrong,” he whispered and picked up the soul of Darkyn. He stared at it, marveling and horrified simultaneously. “Darkyn fell.”
“What?” past-Death crowded him. “What about the others?”
“Someone freed the giants,” Gabriel said. “Poor souls aren’t smart enough to know what’s going on.”
“Cupcake!” the muffled shout came from the direction of the bedchamber.
“I think we’ve got more than one issue,” she added, eyes going towards Jared.
Gabriel dropped the soul of the Dark One back into the bowl. “Stay here. I know what I need to do.”
Fate was conveniently gone, he noted when he turned. The deity had a knack for disappearing when circumstances went from bad to worse.
“Um, no.” She followed him.
“Deidre, you aren’t immortal anymore. You’ll be safe here,” he said, facing her. “I won’t risk losing you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah well, I don’t care. I belong at your side, fighting our enemies, not stuffed in a closet.” She gave him a look of cold defiance, the kind that made his blood quicken and desire eddy through him.
“I’m serious,” Gabriel said.
“So am I.” A tortured look crossed her features before she drew a deep breath and threw her shoulders back. “I’ve been a selfish being my entire life. I need to make amends where I can.”
“Your soul belongs to Hell. If something happens …” He wasn’t able to finish the thought. It was more complicated with Darkyn gone, especially since the Dark One had been cut off from Hell when he entered the underworld. How succession worked wasn’t clear to Gabriel.
“I’m willing to take that risk to help you and the others,” she said firmly. “It’s not a request, Gabriel. You can take me with you, or I’ll follow you anyway.”
Gabriel studied her, sensing her resolve while also experiencing a tremor of fear. He wasn’t able to read her mind to know exactly what she was thinking, but he suspected she’d reached close to rock bottom. It made him want to take her in his arms and hug her, to assure her everything would be okay.
But that wasn’t the right approach with past-Death. She was far too independent and obstinate enough to prove whatever point she felt needed to be proven, at any cost. Whatever amends she wanted to make, she wasn’t going to be dissuaded. This much he knew.
“If you’re doing this to prove to me that you can be trusted, please reconsider,” he said.
“The world doesn’t revolve around you, Gabe,” she said with a faint smile. “I’m doing this for me. I already lost my soul and your love. I have to prove to me that I’m worthy of being with you.” The words were spoken with her normal calm confidence, but he heard the effort that went into them. “I want to be the person I know I can be. I just need this chance, Gabe.”
Familiar unease went through him, a combination of frustration and resentment. Gabriel debated silently, aware the former goddess was hurting as much as he once had. His pain and anger had lessened, and he suspected it was because of the same reason she appeared distraught every time she looked at him.
She’d learned her lesson the hardest way possible, and at the cost of her soul. Any anger he felt towards her melted knowing she was in the kind of pain he went through at her hands when she took his soul months ago. No part of him was able to feel satisfied at the tables turning.
If anything, he had the urgent need to help her, to soothe away her suffering. No one deserved that kind of suffering, even someone who hurt him the way she did.
Since discovering her deal with human-Deidre, he’d been trying to figure out a way to barter with the Dark One to regain her soul and come to one conclusion: Darkyn knew how much Gabriel wanted it and would put a price tag on it that Gabriel wasn’t able to pay.
But with Darkyn gone … Gabriel ached for Deidre, hearing her heartbreak in the memories shown him by Darkyn’s soul. Yet the Dark One’s demise might give him the opportunity he sought to get his mate’s soul back.
The answer was somewhere within the knowledge pouring into his thoughts. He just had to isolate it. In the meantime, past-Death stood a better chance of surviving with him at her side than alone.
It went against every bone in his body, but Gabriel nodded once. “I don’t like it, but I understand and respect your decision,” he said at last.
“Thank you.” She drew a dagger. “Let’s go save our pet demon, shall we?”
Gabriel snorted and rested his hand on the door. “Ready?”
“Partners?”
He nodded.
“Then, yes.”
Wrenching the door open, he saw the demon braced against the door of the bedchamber, which was bucking beneath the weight of death dealers trying to get in.
“C’mon, demon,” Gabriel called gruffly. “We’ll take the secret passages.” He stepped outside the secret room to ensure Jared was able to see the entrance.
The demon bolted towards him. He was halfway across the bedchamber when the door burst open.
Gabriel waited until Jared was in the room before closing the door. Past-Death stood at the back of the closet at the opening of the passageways.
“Thank you, cupcake,” Jared said and hurried forward.
“Go, demon.”
They plunged into the passage, and Gabriel gave the stone walls silent instructions of where to take them. As he moved, he considered the immensity of what he’d learned in the sacred closet.
He was chosen. The underworld wanted him as Death, and he didn’t have to lose the last fragment of his humanity. The streams of knowledge continued to flow into his mind, the pieces of an ancient puzzle falling into place. He began to see the bigger picture, the history of the realms and of humanity, the rise and fall of deities, Im
mortals and humans.
Acknowledged history, forbidden history, secret history as told by the deities flowed into him, while the souls filled in the details, like sand sliding between boulders. He grappled to understand knowledge far surpassing anything he’d ever uncovered in the Oracle’s book at the Caribbean Sanctuary.
While those pieces fell into place, so did a few more, outside the streams he was being force fed.
His mate had given up all this knowledge, all this power to be with him. Hers wasn’t just the power of a deity; it was the power of the goddess who ruled over the rest of the deities. The Keeper of Souls was imbued with knowledge and information from across time and realms, from the lowliest human to the loftiest of the gods.
For a woman who craved control and loved power, it was a lot to sacrifice for a shot with a mere human. It soothed the remaining feelings he had about her, the ones based on memories of how cruel she’d often been to him.
Even that part of her was gone, dissipated when she realized what it meant to be human, when she began to comprehend what made him resist her attempts to strip him of his human decency over the years.
Past-Death had fucked up many times, but in the end, she’d tried to get it right. It was this thought that led Gabriel to one that banished any lingering anger.
The goddess hadn’t had the capacity to understand what some of her actions, like creating Deidre as a standin, truly meant when she did it. She came from a place of absolute power and control, crippled emotionally and incapable of true compassion.
She went against her nature when she fell in love with him and again when she destroyed the sanctity of souls to create Deidre’s. Just as Gabriel wasn’t able to see the world as the chessboard she did, she hadn’t been able to see it through the eyes of a human.
But she tried, because he meant more to her than all the power and knowledge in the world. She gave up being a goddess to become someone new, someone she thought he deserved.
Which is a lot. He had a headache already from downloading the information.
