by Ford, Lizzy
She’d be able to undo the damage he was doing in order to return to the place he’d been right before he died-dead. He took no joy out of hurting his children, even if he was never able to openly mourn them either.
“Never mind,” he said. “Enjoy your day.”
She glanced at him, perplexed, and walked away.
He grimaced and gripped his wrist, unable to soothe the burn.
Chapter Twenty
The mandatory family dinner was tense and awkward as usual. Kiki appeared to ignore everyone, his iPad beside his plate and eyes glued to the screen.
Stephanie looked from him to Wynn, wanting so much to tell her father what she thought of him after his threat to send Kiki to Hell, of how much she hated the feeling of terror nestled at her center. She’d tried calling her sister and mom no less than two dozen times today without reaching either.
As the day progressed, she began to believe Rhyn and Kris.
The idea of her mother and sister in Wynn’s clutches, however, sent her emotions spinning out of control whenever she dwelt on it. She’d managed to push aside her fear during petitions, but seated beside Wynn, she couldn’t stop thinking about them. About where in the castle they might be, about how he was going to torture them like he had Fate.
Her sister would fight, and her mother …
Images of his torturers stripping Fate’s skin from her body made her stomach revolt.
Stephanie dropped her utensils, vaguely aware of being close to hyperventilating. Kiki was staring at her, though Wynn’s unconcerned glance pushed her closer to exploding. She pushed away from the table and bent, placing her head between her knees and breathing as steadily as she could.
Her brother knelt beside her. “You get used to feeling like this.” Kiki’s whisper was accompanied by the cool, wet cloth napkin he draped across the back of her neck. “You shouldn’t let Wynn know what he’s doing to you.”
She squeezed her eyes closed, hearing the wisdom in his words, as usual, without being able to reel in her emotions. “I hate him,” she said hoarsely. “I hate him!”
“Sssshhh.”
“Does she need a healer?” Wynn asked coolly.
“No,” Kiki replied. “I think she’s still adjusting.”
Stephanie focused on control, on being more like her brothers, who seemed generally immune to the cruelty of their world. Kiki remained beside her until her breathing grew steady, and the urge to vomit or pass out or scream was gone. She tugged the napkin from her neck with trembling hands and repeated the advice the others had given her mentally. She wasn’t used to feeling trapped, to being so out of control of her life and circumstances.
And her family was in the clutches of a psychopath who was waiting for her to fuck up so he could torture them in front of her.
“Thanks,” she said, glancing at Kiki. “I’m okay.”
He nodded and rose, returning to his seat across from her. Stephanie took another deep breath and straightened in her chair, tugging it closer to the table once more.
“Everyone keeps telling me not to piss you off,” she said to Wynn. “But not telling you how I feel is like swallowing poison. I can’t do it.”
Wynn looked at her fully for the first time since dinner began. Traces of whatever illness he’d had earlier remained in the tightness around his mouth and the lines beneath his eyes.
“You threatened to send my brother to Hell, to find my family, to kill my mate. There is no place for someone like you in any world, mortal or immortal, and I pray for the day when you really see and understand how many lives you’ve destroyed and how little you really are.”
Kiki’s mouth was agape, and even Wynn appeared not to be expecting her scorching words.
Stephanie felt better than she had all day, even knowing the consequences of her short speech were probably going to be very bad.
Only Mithra’s quiet snores from his position dozing at the other end of the table broke the silence.
“I’m sorry to hear you feel that way.” Wynn placed his napkin on the table and stood. Without another word, he left the dining hall.
Stephanie barely remained in her chair, her fear stirring again. Was he going to order her mother tortured? Kidnap her sister and send her to Hell?
“Kiki, I need you to tell me something,” she said quietly. “Does Wynn have my mother and sister in the catacombs?”
“He wouldn’t tell me if he did.”
“But you know everything that goes on around here. Maybe more rations are going to the catacombs? Extra electricity? Something?”
“Was I the brother he wanted to send to Hell?”
“What does it matter?”
“I have to decide if I want to help you or stand back and let Wynn fuck you up after your speech.”
“Yeah, you were.”
Kiki studied her. “I suppose he would’ve fucked you up anyway. You might’ve expedited it.” He picked up his iPad and a roll from the basket. “I’ll let you know what I find out. Enjoy your last meal.” He motioned to the spread with his roll.
Knowing the danger of her words, she nonetheless didn’t regret them. No one spoke the truth to Wynn. Whatever his plan for her, she hoped he focused his rage towards her and not her family.
She could handle anything but him hurting her loved ones. Allegedly, the elderly angel was supposed to help protect her.
“Mithra!” she called to the sleeping guardian angel.
He stirred without waking fully.
“Mithra!”
He jarred awake. “Dinner is over?” He staggered to his feet and blinked, squinting at his surroundings. “I don’t remember walking here.”
“Holy shit.” Stephanie squeezed her temples briefly and stood. Her hope of having any defense standing between Wynn’s anger and her melted. “I’ll show you back to our room.”
“The demon has to stay here.”
“There’s no demon here.”
He lifted his cane and pointed towards the balcony, one of whose doors was propped open to allow the cool, woodsy air to circulate.
She faced the balcony. “Mithra, there’s …” something there. Startled the sleepy angel got anything right, Stephanie snatched a knife from the table and hurried to the angel’s side.
The familiar frame of Trayern moved into the room. “I’ve been assigned to you,” he said, glancing around in thinly veiled disgust. “Darkyn’s orders. Seems he doesn’t want you sneaking into Hell again.”
“This isn’t Hell, and I don’t give a shit,” she replied. “Leave, before I call the guards.”
“Call them. Wynn granted the Dark One’s request.” Trayern gave a fanged smile.
“This day can’t get any worse.”
“I can think of many ways it can.”
“Mithra, is this true?” She glanced at the angel.
He drew a deep breath. “Perhaps. He could not be here without Wynn’s permission.”
“I’m unarmed.” Trayern held out his hands and slowly approached the table. “What is this? Food?” He picked up a handful of roast beef and scowled at it. “No wonder your kind is so weak.” He tossed it into the fire.
Stephanie gazed at him, unable to determine if the demon was purposely fucking with her or serious. She wasn’t entirely surprised the Dark One was taking measures to prevent her from returning to Hell, since he couldn’t sense her enter his domain. Neither did she think Wynn would refuse the demon guard, since he, too, seemed to want to keep her in check.
Trayern’s unwelcome presence made too much sense for him to be lying. He was going to make it impossible for her to slip away anymore. She could wait for Mithra to doze off when she wanted to disappear, but something told her Darkyn’s favored demon wasn’t going to be as easy to evade.
“You two can handle being around each other, right?” she asked.
“He is alive because I am ordered to observe not interfere.” Trayern growled.
“Same,” Mithra replied and slammed his cane onto th
e ground. “But that can change, demon.”
“Bring it, old man.”
Stephanie didn’t know what to do about her unfriendly and unhelpful entourage. The idea of being in the company of a demon made her stomach less stable. The farther she walked into the Immortal world, the more she wanted to flee.
She left the dining hall, shoulders hunched for a demon attack, and strode through the fortress, needing air.
Wynn was on the stairs where she’d gone to breathe the night before. She stopped the moment she recognized his form, anger and fear stirring once more. She wanted nothing to do with him, especially not this night.
“Your mother did you a disservice,” he spoke before she could leave.
Stephanie tensed, fear fluttering through her at the mention of her family. “I think I turned out better without you in my life.”
He glanced back at her. “Walk with me.”
“No.”
“Walk with me, and I’ll tell you where your sister is.”
Stephanie glared at him, unable to know when he was bluffing and when he was truthful. Gritting her teeth, she joined him on the steps. He descended at a trot and waited for her.
They began walking towards the forest, trailed by the silent demon while Mithra sat down heavily on the stairs of the fortress. Stephanie’s gaze lingered on him before they slid to Trayern, who seemed to move through the shadows. Which was worse? A demon or Wynn?
“How long have you had my sister?” she asked.
“Several days.”
Kris was right. Wynn was always so far ahead. His speech about giving her a chance to back out of their game was hollow. He had already trapped her in it. Uncertain what to do about someone who had already outsmarted her, her attention went to their path. Wynn was leading them towards the lake.
“Did you really agree to let a demon follow me around?” she asked.
“I did.”
This is so fucked up. “Where is my sister?” she asked, managing to keep her voice level.
“Safe. She put up quite a fight. Almost killed two of my Immortal guard.”
It definitely sounded like Sammy. Stephanie shoved her hands in her pocket, canning her panic before it could bring her to tears.
“I had hoped you’d back down. Realize your place. Stay out of the game,” he said. “You’re too much like your mother.”
“I think I’m more like you,” she replied.
“You are so much more like me than you know. But you share traits with your mother as well.” His smile was knowing. “Tell me about her. Tell me how different from me she really is.”
“In every way,” Stephanie said vehemently. “She’s hard working, kind, smiles a lot. Beautiful inside and out. Smart like you but not evil.” She sighed, the image of her mother in her mind saddening her. “What did you do with her?”
“Your mother eluded me, as usual. Left your sister exposed and alone for me to pluck up.”
“My mother has no idea what you are,” Stephanie replied. “She’d defend us both to the death if someone tried to hurt us.”
“Then you know nothing of your mother. If this is true, why hasn’t she appeared to help you yet?” he challenged.
“Because she has no idea this weird sub-world exists! I haven’t told her anything!” she cried in exasperation. “How many times do I have to tell you this?”
They reached the lake, and he paused, facing her.
“You think I’m stupid?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“You think I wouldn’t know you’re sneaking around with your brothers? Plotting to overthrow me?”
Stephanie’s mouth went dry. But this time, she didn’t take his bait. “I don’t think the plotting around here ever stops, no matter who’s in charge.”
His smile was unusually warm. “You are my daughter. As much as I hate to say it, you’re cut out for this,” he said. “I’m certain your mother hated that about you.”
“What are you getting at?” Stephanie asked, perplexed. “You guys had a horrible divorce or something? You’re pissed at her twenty three years later?”
“Fate didn’t tell you?”
“Stop trying to drive a wedge between me and him!”
“Then you’re accepting your place with him.”
She hesitated. “I don’t know. I haven’t had time to think about anything. I’m stuck in this insane spider web with a dozen different spiders getting ready to eat me. The only thing I know is I can’t trust you. I can’t trust him. I can’t trust anyone, except maybe Kiki, because he’s just trying to keep everything from falling apart.”
“What do you know of Fate?”
Stephanie grappled with the answer. “Everything and nothing.”
“It’s not possible to understand a god fully,” Wynn said. “Fate has the power to bring the world beneath his thumb and the discipline not to use it. What does that make him?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered, struggling with the same question.
“Neither do I. But after many years, I have a way to motivate him.”
“Me.”
“The deities require a much harsher approach than humans and Immortals. They have eternity, and some have lived for an eternity. Every once in a while, you can catch one off guard, and you have to act when the chance appears.”
“I get it. You’ve been waiting for Fate to slip.”
“Not just Fate.” Wynn gazed around them, as if expecting company.
Stephanie’s head was beginning to hurt trying to figure out his game. “What’re you talking about?”
“I wish we’d started off on better terms or perhaps, a better understanding of one another,” Wynn said. “If I’d found you sooner, I could’ve raised you correctly.”
Her eyebrows shot up at the ridiculous claim.
He pointed to the sky. “What do you see?”
It’s one insane moment after another. But Stephanie looked, because she didn’t know what else to do or say. “The moon. A bunch of stars.”
“I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but your mother drove me to this point.”
She dropped her gaze just as hot fire slid between her ribs. Stephanie’s body exploded with sensation: agony, warmth blooming at her chest, horror. She looked down to see Wynn’s hand around a knife buried to the hilt into the side of her ribcage.
She gasped and pushed at him. Wynn pulled the long knife free, and Stephanie dropped to her knees. Darkness was already starting to form around the edges of her mind, and blood gushed over her hands as she tried to stop the bleeding.
Too shocked to understand what was happening, she stared at the darkness spreading across her light t-shirt, at the black-red blood gleaming in the moonlight …
Wynn moved away from her and tossed the knife, arms crossed as he watched.
“What … what the fuck are you doing?” she gasped out. Tears sprang into her eyes.
Trayern stood nearby, surprise on his features. After a moment of indecision, he knelt beside her. “Darkyn will torture me eternally if I fail him again.” Did he say or think his deepest fear aloud? The line between her mind and the world was blurring. He pressed both hands against her wound.
This isn’t right. This isn’t fair. Dizziness swept through her.
“Lie back.” The demon pushed her onto her back and whipped off his shirt to reveal a muscular chest covered in tattoos. He tore the shirt into strips with his fangs.
“Summon her, daughter,” Wynn said, drawing near. “You will die if you don’t.”
Stephanie gave a strangled cry of pain as Trayern shoved a wad of t-shirt against her wound.
“He has struck your artery, a favorite source of food for demons,” Trayern said, leaning his weight against her. “Bad for you, though, human.”
Her eyes drifted closed, and her thoughts began to race erratically, out of her control.
“Human, stay awake.” Trayern shook her.
She opened her eyes and stared through a l
ayer of tears at Wynn, who towered above them both.
“C’mon. You’re my daughter but you’re also hers. Summon her,” Wynn said and knelt beside her. “Only you can.”
The image of her mother was in her head, but whatever Wynn wanted her to do, she didn’t know. “Andre.” She whispered the name of the brother most likely to help her and started to slide into darkness.
“Awake!” Trayern barked, shaking her again.
“Summon. Her.” Wynn ordered through clenched teeth.
This time when Stephanie’s eyes closed, she couldn’t open them again. She began to float and then fall and then … nothing.
Chapter Twenty One
In Hell, Fate felt a jolt of something beyond anything he’d experienced yet. Hot, cold, tearing, searing … the sensations woke him from a brief reprieve from his auto-torturous cell. His body convulsed, and sweat broke out on his brow.
He assessed himself quickly and went over the types of pain he’d so carefully categorized.
This wasn’t one of them. This was new – and worse, for it felt like he was being shredded from the inside out, like every molecule in his body was trying to escape the others. He curled onto his side, waiting for the sudden seizure to stop, unable to understand what this newfound horror was. It emanated from his core and spread throughout him, a maddening anguish with no particular source – but at home all over his body.
His sluggish mind cleared with adrenaline and pain. His nerves were screaming, and he sought some explanation from anything he’d learned over several hundred thousand years. What could possibly cause him to feel as if the soul within him was exploding?
Stephanie.
Fate’s eyes flew open, and he stared into the darkness of his cell.
His bond with Stephanie would hold traces of the power of her lineage, even if she couldn’t access her deity power without a soul. Their bond would contain what part of her magic Stephanie inherited, the dormant power she couldn’t access.
