by Belle Malory
Deviant Descendants
Belle Malory
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Keep In Touch
Copyright © 2020 Belle Malory
All rights reserved.
KDP ISBN: 9798639585999
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
You can visit Belle Malory at: http://www.bellemalory.blogspot.com
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Cover by Christian Bentulan
Prologue
“As promised, fifty golden wots.”
Madam Elga, the Inky Snake’s barkeep, greedily tightened her gnarled fingers around the change purse. She loosened the drawstring to count the coins inside, her weathered skin and yellowed eyes brightening.
To Petra, it was only money. A small price to pay considering what she was about to receive in return.
She lowered the hood of her velvet robe and inspected the portal in the upstairs mirror. Unlike others she’d seen, this one swirled in a cloud of blue mist and gave off sparks of electric magic.
“Anyone can pass through?”
Elga only had one front tooth, which she used to chew the edge of a coin. “Aye,” she replied in a throaty voice. “Many a hollowed prisoner ’as slipped through unscathed.”
“Even those bound by oath?”
“If you don’t believe me,” Elga gestured for Petra to step forward, “find out for yourself.”
This could be it—her way out. At least, she hoped so. She remained optimistically cautious. Over the years, she had searched high and low for an escape, constantly met with disappointment.
This time felt different.
Possible.
A portal that allowed travelers to pass through no matter what magic was attached to them. A portal that could transport her out of the Underworld. A portal that could change her fate…Petra wasn’t one to show emotion, but she swallowed as she stepped toward the looming portal, trying to keep her legs steady.
“Stop there.”
The familiar voice brought all the loudness of a train screeching to a halt. Gods—not her!—and at a moment like this, too. She groaned at the irony.
“As always, sister, your timing is impeccable.” She spoke the words through clenched teeth, addressing Selena without bothering to turn around.
“Petra, do not step one foot into that portal.”
She considered leaping for it, just to avoid this conversation. But the seriousness of Selena’s tone made her curious. “Humor me. Why shouldn’t I?”
“Because you’re bound to this world by oath. The moment you go inside it, the portal will electrocute you and spit you out beneath the River Styx.”
No.
Petra clenched her hands into fists.
She slowly circled around, noticing how squirmish Elga had become. Well, well. She couldn’t say she was surprised by the barkeep’s deception. Only disappointed. She hoped this was the real deal.
“I’ve a mind to turn you into a toad, madam.” She snatched the change purse out of Elga’s hands. “A slimy, wart-covered toad I can squash under the heel of my boot.”
Elga stepped back, visibly trembling. “I-I had no idea. I swear!”
Every wretched soul in the Underworld knew better than to risk her wrath. The stuttering barkeep obviously didn’t plan on Petra surviving, which meant nothing for her to worry about.
She definitely had something to worry about now.
Sensing what was coming, Selena stepped between the pair of them. To Elga, she said, “Go now. Fetch us some wine. We’ll find a table downstairs.”
Elga’s bulbous eyes rounded on Selena as if she were her savior, nodding gratefully as she scurried toward the stairs. Petra’s nose twitched. Oh, Selena. Always the white swan to her black one. Ever the angel of hell, prancing around sprinkling glitter over blood and sin as if it might make this shithole prettier. Some things never changed.
“Somnum mortis.”
Elga fell flat on her face, her body a sack of deadweight against the wooden floor.
Selena’s shoulder’s slumped. She let out a small, wistful sigh. “Was that necessary?”
“Of course, it was.”
Petra’s lips curved up on one side. The barkeep wasn’t dead, only in a temporary sleep paralysis, but Selena didn’t have to know that. And Petra didn’t tell her either. She was enjoying her sister’s look of horror too much. More importantly, she refused to let anyone think she didn’t have a backbone. She had a tarnished reputation, after all, and she wanted to keep it that way.
Lifting the skirt of her robe to step over Elga, Petra squared her shoulders and left the room, heading back down the twisty wooden staircase. “Come along, sister,” she called over her shoulder. “We are perfectly capable of fetching our own wine.”
“Honestly.” Selena followed her down the creaky steps, her voice full of regret. “That was harsh.”
“She deserved worse.” Like the actual death Selena believed she had gotten.
The hum of voices picked up as they rounded the corner. Dozens of patrons were visiting the main hall at this late hour—the worst sort, too. Goblins, dark mages, and other awful creatures filled the tables, mugs of frothy ale in their hands.
Without hesitating, Petra went back behind the bar and dug through Elga’s shelves until she found the most expensive, unopened bottle of red she could find. Satisfied, she unscrewed the cork and poured two glasses full. It didn’t matter what her sister wanted to talk about—she would need wine to get through it.
The two of them found a table in the back, away from prying ears, and sat down. Selena twisted one of her blonde curls warily, looking like a sheep who wandered into a lion’s den. She didn’t belong in the Underworld, much less this unsavory tavern, and it was utterly apparent.
By contrast, Petra thought she fit in just fine. Between her sharp features and the fierceness in her gaze, she gave off stay-the-hell-away vibes that suited her nicely.
“Well?” She swirled the wine around in her glass. “How’s dear old Dad these days?”
Thomas Vane was the one person they both despised since he kidnapped and cursed both of their daughters. Their mutual hate for him was the only thing they shared in common. Apart from that, the two of them were as different as night and day.
Selena shrugged. “Busy carrying out orders for the king.”
“Don’t you mean he’s giving his own orders and convincing the king they’re his ideas?”
Selena snorted at the blunt description. “We know our father well, don
’t we?”
“All too well.”
Thomas was the Hollowed King’s most trusted advisor. He used his power from the Hollowed Council to trap them here.
Over the years, Selena had grown to accept her role, acquiring power and status as the Royal Clairvoyant. She settled down, remarried, and she even had more children. But Petra had never felt at home in this world. The hazy purple sun never captivated her the way it did some mages. She missed the blistering heat from Summer Island, where she’d grown up. And she missed having control over her own life.
“So…” Petra said, tapping the rim of her glass. Conversations with her sister had always proven awkward. “How’s life in the Hollowed Castle?”
“Why not come back and find out for yourself?”
She shuddered. “No, thanks.”
After countless years of torturing prisoners with her mind magic, she wished to never step foot in the Hollowed Castle again. Of course, life wasn’t much better now. She still used her mind magic to recruit soldiers from the city, but at least that work wasn’t as draining. Then there was the added bonus of getting away from privileged aristocrats and Hollowed Council members.
“I miss having you around.” Selena offered a tentative smile. “There’s no one else to complain about Father with me.”
If Petra was the eye-rolling sort, she would have done so by now. “What’s this really about?”
Selena shook her head. “You were never one for small talk, were you? I suppose it’s the Ares blood. Your kind has always been impatient.”
“Or perhaps I’ve never cared to be friendly with the woman who stole the father of my child,” she replied dryly, slicing into Selena with a sharp gaze.
Selena frowned. “I’m also your sister,” she said, as if that word meant something. “Honestly, Petra, we’ve been over this dozens of times. I didn’t know about you when I met Daniel.”
That much was half-true. Selena didn’t know they were sisters, but she sure as hell knew Daniel had been dating her. Everyone did.
“You should move on to the point of this meeting.” Petra smiled coolly, subtly letting her sister know that her feelings would never change.
“Fine,” Selena sighed. “If that’s how you want to do this—”
“I do.”
Selena’s frown deepened. “You can’t leave the Underworld. Whether you find a portal that allows you passage or not, you must stay because…they’re coming.”
Petra arched a brow. “Who’s coming?”
“Our daughters.”
She went still, holding her breath. “You’ve seen a vision of this?”
Selena nodded, her expression serious.
Petra tightened her grip around the stem of her glass, trying to make sense of it. She learned long ago not to underestimate Selena’s visions. They were always shockingly accurate. “Both of them?”
Again, Selena nodded.
On Zeus’s grave—why the Underworld of all places? This was no place for two cursed teenagers in a deathmatch.
“Why does it matter if I’m here?” Petra caught the frantic edge in her own voice. She was usually adept at keeping it together. But anything involving Sheridan brought her emotions to the forefront.
“They need you. You’re a catalyst—you help them in some way. The details are fuzzy, but they will need you.”
“You realize as soon as I set eyes on your daughter, she’s dead, don’t you?”
Selena calmly sipped her wine. “You won’t kill her.”
“That’s a bit delusional, even for you.”
“You won’t. Something turned over within you when you saw Sheridan again. The renewal of that bond is opening your heart. Riley’s death would hurt Sheridan, and you won’t put her through the loss.”
Petra snorted. “Come now, sister. You know me better than that.”
“The two of them once had the relationship you and I should’ve had. Deep down, you care. And Sheridan has been through enough already. They both have.”
“Oh, for Apollo’s sake.” Her lip twitched. “Are you saying you saw me allowing her to live?”
Selena nodded.
If that was true, it remained to be seen. She wouldn’t take Selena’s word on it, not while she had ulterior motives for saying so.
“Notify me when they arrive.” Selena stood up. “I’m not sure what role I have to play, but I would like to help too.”
“Oh, I will,” Petra smiled wickedly. She planned to send Selena’s daughter’s corpse to her in a body bag. A delightful notification, if there ever was one.
Selena drew the hood of her robe back in place, frowning. “We don’t have to be enemies, you know. We never did.”
“Who knows what might have been,” Petra said sarcastically. “If only we hadn’t fallen for the same mage.”
The same stupid, worthless mage.
“All the same, you know where to find me.” Petra flinched as Selena briefly touched her shoulder. Just as quickly, she removed her hand, her eyes tightening with disappointment. “Take care of yourself, sister.”
1
One of two—both futures, bleak. She is strong, and you are weak. Like two broken halves to a whole, you must break some more, to pay the toll.
The woman from Twilight Island’s prophecy repeated inside my head, her voice a harrowing echo that wouldn’t stop. Over and over again, I heard those words. Break some more. Pay the toll. What did it all mean?
I was so focused on deciphering its meaning that I didn’t pay attention to my surroundings. Or the sharp voices coming from behind.
The blow came hard on my right side, and I jerked forward. Books and papers flew everywhere as my bag slid across the sidewalk. I fell, scraping my palms and knees on the cement.
“Watch yourself, Two.” Calypso tossed her long, dark braid over her shoulder, narrowing her fiery gaze on me.
Her catty Ares girl squad, Anastasia and Ren, snickered. They stomped their muddy sandals on the covers of my textbooks as they passed. Seeing those books brutalized stung more than my hands and knees. What had those poor, defenseless books ever done to anyone? Other than belonging to me, AKA, Two. It was a nickname everyone liked to call me. I’d heard others—traitor, defector, turncoat, and the like. But Two was the one that stuck, thanks to its clever double entendre.
Two, for two-faced.
Two, because I was the second Thorne daughter.
It also implied that Riley was One. Since the other Ares students latched onto my sister like their own personal gift from the gods, they wanted me to know which Thorne they preferred. Riley had only been at Arcadia for a month, but she’d already declared herself their reigning queen. Calypso and her bitchy sidekicks were her ladies-in-waiting. The three of them walked ahead without looking back. I turned my hands over, wincing at the angry red scratches.
I was over the constant bullying, the comparisons, and the name-calling. Meanwhile, those same girls kept my sister on a pedestal.
Two broken halves—ha! Riley was not even close to broken. Ares welcomed her with open arms. Her catapult to the top of the social ladder didn’t surprise me either. It was no different from back home, in Davidson. She shined no matter where she went. Unlike her, I was fine with not shining. In fact, I preferred it to this. Invisibility was far better than being a social pariah. Small hiccups, I told myself. Okay, not small, exactly. More like medium-sized hiccups.
Moments later, someone was there, helping me pick up my books.
“Who did this?” Xander tried to mask his outrage, but I could hear it in every syllable. He was ready to hold that who accountable.
“No one. I fell.”
The lie slipped too easily from my lips. He gave me a look to let me know he didn’t appreciate it. But if he knew, he would rip those girls to shreds. This was something I needed to figure out on my own. Xander couldn’t fight my battles for me.
“Who was it, Sheridan?” Xander said again, his jaw ticking.
“It doesn’t m
atter,” I sighed. “They all hate me.”
His face crumbled, and he let out a breath. He hated this situation more than I did. “That won’t last, you know.”
But I wasn’t so sure. The students in Ares designated me their own personal punching bag, and rightly so. In their world, I was a traitor. Bloodlines and magic divided mages, and I refused to choose only one.
Under ordinary circumstances, Xander’s approval as house leader would have been enough to gain acceptance. When I joined Aphrodite, I gained that acceptance through Peter Hallas. But things were different this time. No one liked a defector, much less a mage who couldn’t choose a side.
This was the bed I made, I reminded myself. After all, I begged Headmaster Waddley to allow me to study both love and fire magic. I wanted to study mind magic in Athena too, but I was already pushing my own limits. Socially, anyway. Academics came easily thanks to my bibliomagery skills. My memory was full of impressed books, including every textbook required this semester.
Xander took my elbow, careful not to touch my hurt hands, and pulled me back to my feet. “You should tell everyone about your meeting with the Fates. If they knew why you joined Aphrodite—”
“No.” I dusted myself off. Those explanations would fall on deaf ears. Besides, Aphrodite was as much a part of me as Ares. I loved them both.
Xander frowned, but he dropped it for now.
Mythonians believed blending magic diluted bloodlines and weakened their powers. I wasn’t so sure that was true. Bibliomagery had shown me knowledge was the source of all great power. I wanted to get my hands on every book, experiment with all types of magic, and learn as much as I could.
