Two Kingdoms

by C. M. Owens

  “Yes, spirit balancers. It’s a power you bestowed upon me. It’s one of the highest honors. I help find a new position for one who’s unbalanced to see if their balance can be restored before it progresses to a point of no return,” he continues.

  “Did you do this for me?”

  “I knew your balance, but I never had to check it for you,” he says with a soft smile. “Every decision you make is selflessly selfish. You maintain your balance without even trying, because you’re a master, even now. It’s why you were the most successful of the royals.”

  It always sounds like he’s kissing my ass, and quite frankly, it’s just uncomfortable.

  “So being selflessly selfish is my balance?”

  He nods, frowning. “I thought I made that clear the last time we spoke. Before you went to kill your father.”

  His lips twitch like he finds that last part amusing.

  “You were a box of nonsense prattling on about really confusing things that pertain to balance.”

  I hate all these sad looks in his eyes when I say something that apparently isn’t something I would have said back then. It’s like he’s mourning the loss of the friend he had while staring at the flimsy version of her that’s left.

  “The word balance sounds so simple. But it’s equivalent to a human trying to stand on one leg for four days without wavering in the slightest. It’s impossible to without a crutch of some sort. Except for you. You never needed methods to maintain your balance, and you effortlessly stood on one leg from the day you were created until you ceased to exist.”

  He swallows while forcing a tight smile.

  “As I’ve stated before, only you strived for the impossible,” he adds.

  “I’ve saved my reborn harem numerous times, even gave my life—without knowing I’d rise from the fiery grave. I’d say that’s just selfless.”

  He smirks. “Yes. It is selfless to love so fiercely you’d trade your own life for one—or all—of theirs,” he agrees. “There’s no doubt you’ll always put them before yourself. But it’s also selfish, because you love them too much to suffer through the agony of losing even one. You’d rather die.”

  When he puts it like that…

  I bristle in my seat, now thinking back to every single decision I’ve made that bore enough weight to affect this internal balance.

  “When you trust me enough, I’d like to check your balance, though. I’m simply curious if anything has changed. Especially considering the emotional distance left between you and the boys,” he continues.

  I grow wary at how he seems to know there’s an emotional distance. Though, considering he saw us back when we were so in love that it was sickening, I suppose that could be easily purported as emotional distance.

  “We’re in a new phase of our relationship. It’s an adjustment period,” I state vaguely.

  I get a sad nod that I really don’t think should be all that sad. Adjustment periods are normal.

  “But why do I need to trust you for this?” I ask him, frowning.

  “Because I need to trust you won’t recycle me when it hurts,” he states like it’s obvious.

  “Why does it hurt?” I ask, dubious.

  He gives a lazy gesture around us. “Because it’s hell. Everything hurts.”

  Right. Should have guessed that one on my own.

  “I felt you years ago, but was convinced it was wrong. You felt…different…but so similar. I thought I really might be imagining things,” he continues. “Which is why I want to check it.”

  “Well, earn that trust so I don’t recycle you, and then we’ll talk,” I state facetiously, glancing around.

  He’s grinning when my eyes come back to his. “So who was first this time? Just curious.”

  “That’s a completely inappropriate, personal question, and I’m so glad you asked,” I say, a little giddy as I sit up straighter, causing his smile to broaden. “I think it was Gage.”

  His smile falls as an incredulous look forms on his face. “You think it was Gage?”

  “Well, they didn’t want me to know who was first so that I didn’t have a favorite. But I always have favorites that change based on the moment—you know. They’re just being ridiculous.”

  He sits back, still seeming oddly confused.

  “They blindfolded me. The only one I saw was Kai, and that’s because he was last,” I explain.

  “I’m just surprised you allowed that,” is what he finally says as he sits back, perplexed.

  “Why? Am I supposed to be a control freak?”

  “You’re supposed to be too selfish to allow something like that, even with a selfless counter reasoning, because that completely changes the dynamic of your group,” he says seriously, leaning forward like who-went-first is a huge deal.

  “Well, how did we do it last time? I chose who went first?”

  He’s quick to nod.

  “You sent them to their own separate rooms, and you visited them one-by-one. You told them all they were first. They all believed it, and swore to keep that information sacred, so that they always secretly felt like your favorite, no matter who the current favorite was,” he explains.

  I find myself inching closer.

  “Who really went first?” I ask like it’s a bad habit already.

  “I have no idea,” he says with a shrug. “You never told anyone but me what you did, but you never even trusted me with the secret of who went first. You simply said it didn’t matter, because you drew the names at random. But you see how this changes the group dynamic exponentially, don’t you?”

  “Yes, of course,” I say while batting a hand like it’s no big deal. When he continues to stare at me expectantly, I sigh. “Fine. No clue. How did it change?”

  With a flick of his wrist, a string of rope starts snaking across the ground, moving toward us.

  With wary interest, I keep my eyes trained on it as it starts lifting into the air, circling until the circle is complete from end to end.

  Then the rope does something weird, fraying and spinning out one section of its braid, forming four straight lines that move to the center of a circle. With some amazement, I watch as it spins what looks like a female rope-figure in the center of the circle.

  Four ropes tie to the figure’s arms and legs, and the figure pulls that rope, bringing the circle tighter.

  “You controlled the dynamic last time. You pulled, and they went with you so willingly and effortlessly,” he says.

  Suddenly the circle starts widening, and the figure’s arms and legs start being stretched as it tries to go in four directions with the circle, straining not to break.

  “They have the power in this dynamic, and they’re pulling you along with them. It’s a huge concession on your part, because you held all the power.”

  I’m not really sure what to say about that.

  “So…do you think it was Gage or not?” I ask instead. “You know the old them enough to help me out, surely.”

  He just blinks at me.

  “This is serious. The Four Horsemen have more power in your relationship than you, The Apocalypse.”

  “Yeah. I heard you. I already know that, and I’m okay with working my way toward being an even member, though it can be frustrating at times. Don’t tell them that, though. I want admiration, not pity. However, right now, I’m just trying to figure out who my first was.”

  He sighs heavily, even though I see him struggling not to grin.

  “No clue. The men I knew would have battled to be your first and not taken a vote on the matter. While you’re all the same in a great many respects, you’re also completely different.”

  I’m not sure how long I’ve been gone, so I stand, nodding, at least feeling better about talking this through aloud.

  “Thanks for the pep talk. Tell Lucifer I won’t be showing my face at the party tonight, because I stabbed him through the stomach and won.”

  He blinks, seeming visibly stunned by the abrupt shift. I feel like
I get an award for not being the predictable old Paca that everyone but me remembers.

  He opens his mouth to speak, finally recovering, when I add, “A deal’s a deal.”

  Going Ghost Girl, I zap myself back to the guys, appearing just in front of Kai as he steps into my bedroom.

  “Where have you been?” he asks with a frown.

  Terrible at deception and all that, I decide to grab him by his shirt with one hand, drag him down by his neck with the other, and kiss him until he forgets he asked a question.

  Just when he groans into my mouth and grabs a double handful of ass, I pat his chest and break the kiss, whispering across his lips, “You’re still not my favorite.”

  I grin when he curses and falls through my phantom form.

  My next favorite will be whoever tells me what the real plan of the night is.

  “Fucking tease,” he calls to my back, question forgotten.

  Chapter 5

  We’ve been waiting for whoever is coming to pick us up for hours now. It’s encroaching midnight at this point.

  Gage is ‘resting’ his eyes with his head in my lap as I read.

  I’ve decided that if it’s not the Devil, it has to be one of my evil siblings. More specifically, Lilith. She’s the eldest—manifested only hours before Cain. After all, her deadly sin is envy. Just like Lamar was saying.

  However, mine is wrath and I don’t want to go around killing people or making them kill each other like it’s a compulsory disorder or anything.

  What if I influenced someone to take wrath out on me?

  My conspiracy theories are turning into threads of more conspiracy theories, backed up with rumors from other thin conspiracies.

  I need a drink.

  Or an orgasm.

  Or both.

  Absently, I run my fingers through Gage’s soft, light brown hair that is dusted with traces of blond. I didn’t realize how very peculiar and interesting his hair was back before I was allowed to touch it.

  It makes me wonder if what Lamar said about designing them to my specifications had any merit.

  This is all rather frustrating. I hate not having the answer to the worst riddle.

  Who killed the Four Horsemen and The Apocalypse if not the Devil?

  I never wrote much about the other, less hellfire place that I’m scared to mention, since I’m sort of evil and worry that I’m not allowed to say its name. Was it someone from that side who had the power to strike me down?

  “No. That would have to disrupt a balance,” I whisper to myself as Gage stirs ever so slightly in my lap before releasing a heavy sigh.

  Still, seems prudent to consider such a possibility, since rationally it would be our most obvious enemy. Have to say, I don’t know how I feel about being the bad girl who was killed by one of the good guys. Sort of makes me feel like I have no right to complain, since I could be the end of all civilization.

  But it also really makes me stabby.

  Two hands move to my shoulders, and I almost drop the book when they begin massaging me, loosening the muscles that have apparently grown tense during my long reading session.

  “This is possibly the quietest I’ve heard you be since you woke up from your faint that first night,” Jude says smoothly from behind me, working away the last of the tension that has gathered in my shoulders.

  “I’ve spent longer actively ignoring all of you before,” I murmur absently.

  My head lulls back as I soak in his touch. I haven’t really gotten to enjoy it as much as the others, since he only recently came around. I decide not to mention I was very quiet for the month I spent dead and buried.

  They seem to be sensitive to dead girl jokes so soon.

  My eyelids lift, which surprises me because I don’t remember them closing, and I stare up at Jude as he stares down at me.

  “I’m trying to learn who else may have had cause to get rid of us, and working through the scenarios of why and how we died to go along with each new theory. Lilith is one of the top contenders,” I explain.

  His hands pause on my shoulders as his brow wrinkles. “Do you think she’d be powerful enough?”

  I shrug. “With the help of the Gemini Twins, I think it’d be very possible. Also, there’s Cain and Hera. They regularly team up against the old me in these books. Cain recycled three of my harems before the four of you, after I did something of equal measure to piss him off. It’s rumored that we’re rather deadly when dealing with our sibling rivalries.”

  I state all this without any emotion, because as I said, I’ve detached myself from the situation. The girl in these journals, for all intents and purposes, died with her memories.

  I’m just trying to figure out who I am now, and what pieces of the past we should concern ourselves with for the future.

  “In one of the books, it states your siblings were allies. I’m not sure when, but at some point, they protected us. Mostly because pieces of you lived inside us. It’s all we could translate from that section,” he tells me, messing with that theory.

  However, it’d be foolish to dismiss it because of one redeeming instance.

  After all, we’re discussing the Devil’s children. In this particular case, the devil truly is in the details.

  “What do we know about Manella?” I ask him, returning my attention to the book in my hand. “And the place that is not hell?”

  “Purgatory,” he supplies like that’s the place I’m referring to.

  “The purer place,” I counter.

  “Ah. Not much really. Harold is tight-lipped about anything on that front. He said it didn’t really concern us, given the obvious; we were designed for hell.”

  “Have you spoken to him since learning new information?” I ask.

  “I’m afraid to share that information, since apparently it’s not good news to most of hell. He’ll find us if he hears the whispers.”

  “What about your souls when they were truly mortal? Before the first visit to hell that ended with an imbalance and the ensuing madness?” I go on, absentmindedly.

  His hands pause on my shoulders again. “We haven’t found anything on that yet. I’m not entirely sure I want to know. The more we learn about ourselves before you, the less I want to learn.”

  My smile tugs at one corner of my mouth.

  “That was then. The four of you before me in this life seem to have done just fine,” I tell him as my gaze flicks back over the pages.

  His hands on my shoulders remain still for a second, and he squeezes them once more before walking off.

  I resume reading and stroking Gage’s hair, but pause when Gage sleepily says, “We weren’t doing well at all. We just found ways to supplement something we didn’t know was missing.”

  Clearing my throat, I restrain my smile. I doubt he’d say that if he wasn’t halfway asleep.

  “Our bond wasn’t complete with just four,” he adds before drifting back off, as though he specifically woke up to say that.

  Gage is definitely my favorite.

  Ezekiel walks over, taking the book from my hand, and I peer up at him. “Someone’s coming,” he tells me quietly.

  I go phantom immediately, putting our plan into action. Well, the part of the plan I’ve been informed of, that is. I haven’t eavesdropped anymore on the secret planning.

  Gage’s eyes pop open, and he looks up, confused as his head drops to the couch after falling through my phantom lap.

  His eyes widen when he senses whatever Ezekiel just did, something I apparently am unable to sense just yet. It makes me wonder if Lucifer isn’t right about me needing to spend some time at home until I’m back at full strength.

  Though I did sense Lamar coming that one time…

  I just don’t know how to convince the guys to spend a lot of time in hell, since they’re still hiding their suspicions about Lucifer.

  All four of them move to be in front of me, and I poke my head around Kai’s arm just the doorbell rings.

  With a fli
ck of my wrist—something I’ve been working on in between reading various family history pieces in my journals—the door opens.

  More and more of the journals have appeared all throughout the day. Lamar has even sent some post-it notes on them, estimating the ages of the journals based on the power he feels from them.

  The distraction of my wandering mind has caused me to miss the fact three beautiful men have entered. I bet they have to wear doggy bags over their heads when they’re downstairs.

  “We’re ready when you are,” Gage says to them.

  “We were instructed not to take you to the gala until you were all five in attendance and wearing your masquerade masks,” the escort closest to us says.

  Damn Devil is fucking with me again. He really does like his games.

  I guess I should have been more specific when I said I wouldn’t show my face.

  Materializing four masks is a simple task since my last upgrade, and when I become whole, I have their masks in my hands. My mask is already on—an ornate silver one decorated in diamond trimming. It covers three-fourths of my face, leaving only a small corner of my mouth revealed.

  My gown is silver as well, shimmering as it gracefully clings to me in all the right ways, giving the illusion my body is far more impressive than it actually is. I’m going into hell already hot.

  I laugh a little at my own inside joke, even though I doubt the guys will be overly impressed. Their expectations are unreasonably high, I’ve noticed.

  The dress hides my shoes, allowing me to wear less-than glamorous footwear that is far more comfortable beneath the pooling fabric.

  I’ve been wearing something completely different all afternoon, thinking of all the things I’d do differently now that I’ve had time to actually design a gown in my head.

  When I step around the boys, holding out their masks, I hear a couple of groans.

  The three escorts startle, their eyes dipping. Kai starts to do something stupid when one of the strangers licks his lips.

  Pretending not to love the fact he’s getting a bit protective—or maybe jealous?—I give Kai a dry look as I grab his wrist. “I’ve seen what his kind looks like in hell. You can’t even possibly think I’d be into that. I’m a horrible, shallow person, remember?”