by Lucy Auburn
“Use you to what?”
His words were soft and pained. “All blackfyre knights—all followers of Ignus—take an oath to destroy the Key. They haven’t yet, but with this news, I wonder if they might ask me to kill you.” My chest felt heavy and hollow, my body held together with Leon’s arm alone. Elah swiftly added, “I never would, of course.”
“Of course,” I echoed, knowing it was true. “But if they ask you and you disobey—what then?”
There was silence. Into it, Leon murmured, “We should all ask ourselves that question, and know the answer to it in advance. I know what I would say.” His voice was fierce and angry; I leaned into his warmth and strength, squeezing Elah’s hand, staring into Maggie’s familiar eyes. “We must be prepared to rebel, no matter the costs.”
Maggie said harshly, “They can go to Hell before I’ll let them have you.”
Petyr observed, “I already openly disobeyed them, so obviously I’m in.”
Tae Min’s eyes were angry as he said, “I swore an oath to heal, not to kill. And that never changes.”
That left just one.
“I serve at my father’s hand,” Damen said, voice high and clear, “and he counts the Lightbloods as allies. My job was to gather information and thwart Persephone. I’m sure that killing a woman isn’t something I would ever do, much less for a group of fae.”
I smiled at the demigod’s words, arrogant as they were. “Alright then. What now? We sleep, and then—where do we work? What do we do?”
Petyr gave me an exasperated look. “Let us figure that out, okay? I’m sure I can find another place to keep my books. The only thing you need to worry about is who’s driving you home. There’s no way you’re getting on that metal death machine Leon calls a motorcycle so soon after we lost you. I’m not scraping you up off the pavement to try to put you back together again.”
I smiled at him, letting the rest of the discussion ebb and flow around me. Naomi had driven Maggie here, and she was gone, so we wound up going in the van with Tae Min; apparently he used it to pick up medical supplies. It quickly became obvious that Damen had no place to sleep on Earth now that the Collective had been destroyed, so Maggie offered up her couch and the issue was settled. It felt strange to bring a demigod home with us, but it was no stranger than bringing another demigod back to Hell to be disciplined by his father, the King of the Underworld. Strange was my life now.
As I settled into the padded back of the passenger seat, I realized just exactly how exhausted I was. Using my powers, fighting a demigod, and realm walking had taken it out of me. Almost against my will, my head fell against Damen’s shoulder and sleep pulled me down into its murky waters. I let dreamland rise up to take me down into oblivion.
There would be other things to worry about tomorrow, I knew.
But for now I was safe, surrounded by people who cared about me. I would face tomorrow with them, together. And that was all I really needed.
Epilogue
In the darkness of the Underworld, its Queen paced her gilded cage.
“Is it done yet?” She swirled to face the cowering god before her, clasping her hands together tight. “You said this would take merely a moment or two.”
Narcissus flinched at her tone of voice, which pleased the Queen. She did not like it when she wasn’t properly feared. He said, “It will be done soon, my Queen.”
“Make it fast,” she snapped. “Or I’ll twist your head off your body like a wine cork.”
That seemed to quicken his pace. A few short minutes later, he straightened from his position next to the still pool of water in his chamber and bowed his head to her. “It is ready.”
Persephone—that was not her name, but she often thought of herself that way—knelt by the water and stared into its depths. Narcissus, the God of vanity, reflections, truth, and non-corporeal projection, reached his hand out and hovered it above the water palm down. He whispered a word in an ancient language that tugged on the Queen’s ears, but like many things that did not have to do with cruelty, she’d forgotten the meaning of the words.
It didn’t matter. The spell worked. Shimmering, the surface of the pool revealed that which was outside Hell, on Earth. She saw first her daughter’s face, and made a noise of disapproval. “Not her, obviously.”
“Of course, my Queen.” His hand trembled; Narcissus was afraid of her now, which pleased her. “I only brought her image up as a locus point. I’ll move on from here.”
He showed her various people, and Persephone dismissed them at once. A brown-skinned diplomat man, a woman far too old and humble, other men. “A woman,” she requested, and the next one flashed by. “That one. Her.”
This woman had dark hair, a pleasant face, and was young—in her early twenties at the latest. Persephone smiled, staring down at her; this one would do.
Narcissus said, “Consider it done,” and snapped his fingers. “Simply lean down until your face dips into the water, and you will possess her body.”
Smiling, the Queen did just that.
Naomi
I never slept well on long flights, but I tried this time anyway. Pillow at my neck, I closed my eyes and attempted to reach oblivion.
Beside me, Iva made soft snuffling noises. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Selena. I felt like I’d made a mistake by pushing her away; maybe it would’ve been better to tell her the truth. I wanted to stay close to her, to hold her in my hands and kiss her passionately, but I was afraid.
My mother said the Black God made me.
And I doubted he had good intentions when he did so. As noble a sacrifice it might have been to pledge himself to rule over evil, he was King of the Underworld. I didn’t trust the fate he had planned for me.
I’d just started to drift off into something like sleep when I felt a strange tugging in my chest. Opening my eyes, I frowned as nausea rolled up in me. Iva was still asleep, so I slipped out of my seat as quietly as possible and hurried to the closest bathroom stall, glad the flight was only half full. There was no line, and I had the bathroom to myself.
For a moment I thought I was going to puke, but then I felt a sudden dizziness. I pushed my hand against the wall and stared at my reflection, wishing I had my knives—though they’d be little help if I was sick.
Trying to cool myself down, I splashed my face with water and dabbed my skin with a paper towel. I felt clammy; my cheeks were too warm. Staring into the mirror, I frowned as my vision doubled.
And then I felt myself fade, fold inward as another presence overwhelmed me.
Suddenly I saw someone else in the mirror, someone unrecognizable. She looked like Selena, but different—harder, older, crueler. I tried to turn the water on to splash my face again, but I couldn’t seem to control my hand. I saw my face smirk in the mirror, and felt a sudden terrible foreboding when I realized I wasn’t the one doing it.
“Hello,” my voice said, and it wasn’t me speaking. I could feel the other presence in my body, controlling me. “It’s good to meet you. We’re going to have fun together.” My hand reached up to tease my hair, working through a tangle. “You won’t remember this, which is good for me. Because it’s only the beginning.”
I waved at myself in the mirror. No—she did, the thing or person occupying my body against my will.
And then all at once the presence left, and my consciousness slipped away. I fell to the tiny bathroom floor, hitting my head on the wall with a bang.
Blackness. Darkness. Oblivion.
Moments later I woke up, unsure what was going on. Someone was knocking frantically on the bathroom door. Pushing up to my feet, I slid open the stall door and stared at the flight attendant on the other side.
“Are you okay?” she asked in a British accent. “You sounded like you fell.”
“I’m fine,” I said, trying to cover up my confusion with a pleasant face. “No worries.”
I pushed past her to my seat, and folded into it, ignoring the suddenly fast beating of my heart
. I’d just gotten a little sick; I passed out or—something. But I was feeling better now, and there was no time for sickness. I had to protect Iva, and Selena as well, even if I was protecting her from myself.
Hours later we landed in Heathrow, and everything was normal again.
As far as I knew.
Selena
Two days later, I was curled up in my bed trying to fall asleep when my phone chimed. It was late at night, but my thoughts kept swirling around and around, so I hadn’t fallen asleep yet. The text message got me up instantly. My heart leapt to my throat at the hope that it might be Naomi, letting me know that she’d changed her mind, that she wasn’t going to London after all.
It wasn’t her.
The text message was from Talia.
“Hope you’re awake,” it read, “because I’ve got kind of an emergency situation. And you’re the only person I know who might be able to help.”
My fingers tapped on the keyboard as I composed my response. “What’s going on?”
I watched the little bubble pop up, and stick around for a while. Whatever she was typing, it was taking some time. I patiently waited.
“I hooked up with a guy last night at a party, but things got weird. I just woke up alone in a room with six other girls. We have no idea where we are but there are these symbols on the wall. I’ll try to send you a photograph. Something freaky is going on. Again.”
I waited for the photo to load.
And recognized the symbols I saw in the photo immediately. They were my mother’s god runes—her followers on Earth were converting more humans to their way of life. Talia would be next if I didn’t do something.
So of course I would. Our bad beef was temporary; friendship transcended in moments like these.
I responded, “Help is on the way. Don’t move.”
Then I headed out of my bedroom to wake up Damen and Maggie. The demigod slept on the couch in the living room, waiting for something called “the ascension road” to summon him so he could report back to his father about his mission. He woke up almost instantly. Maggie was harder to wake up, being a deep sleeper, but soon enough I had her on her feet.
“We gotta go,” I told them, sharing the photo. “It’s spreading.”
The wicked didn’t rest, so apparently neither did we.
Also by Lucy Auburn
Wild Heart Chronicles
Primal
Feral
Savage
Standalones
Bad Boy Fighter
About the Author
Lucy Auburn is an urban fantasy/paranormal romance writer who lives in the Southwest. She loves writing interesting stories about strong women. Some of the writers who inspire her include Patricia Briggs and Sarah J. Maas.
Catch up with her…
www.LucyAuburn.com
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