Stygian

by Nashoda Rose

  “Bullshit,” Genevieve cursed. “You fought for her. Don’t you dare give up now.”

  “I’m about to die, Genevieve. Give me a fuckin’ break.”

  Genevieve sighed and lowered her head. “I thought more of you, Balen. I believed in you. I guess I was wrong.”

  Her gown swished and the mist rose as she faded from my marble cell. I slammed my fist into the floor. “Fuck!”

  “GODDAMN IT, WOMAN. PICTURE it, for Christ’s sake. I have better things to do with my time.” Kilter leaned up against the tree.

  “I am.”

  “Typical woman. Can’t do shit.” Kilter scowled, shaking his head.

  “Oh, screw off.” I picked up a rock and threw it at him. He ducked and it went over his head. I closed my eyes again and clenched my fists, my mouth scrunching together with concentration.

  “You’re trying too hard.”

  Relax. Concentrate. Picture. Feel.

  But all I envisioned was Balen. Every time I closed my eyes, he was there in my mind with his sharp green eyes. I threw my hands in the air. “Forget it. I can’t do it.”

  Kilter pushed away from the tree, the moonlight flickering in his dark eyes. “You’re right. You can’t.”

  I sat in the snow.

  Kilter approached and leaned over me. “Telekinesis requires focus, something you obviously lack. Give me your knife.”

  Bastard.

  Kilter held out his hand. “I know you don’t go anywhere without it.”

  I pulled the knife from my back pocket and held it in my grasp, my fingers caressing the handle where Balen’s name was etched. Kilter yanked it from me and, before I could object, he sliced the sharp blade across the back of my hand.

  I gasped, pulling back and holding my hand over the wound. “Psychotic dickhead. What the hell was that for?”

  Kilter raised his hand with the knife and then flung it across the yard at full throttle. It sank deep into the middle of the trunk of a pine tree. “Because Waleron has made my life hell by forcing me to help you. I want to end the hell as soon as possible. Pain—that’s reality. Now you can concentrate on what we’re doing instead of some fantasy you’re stuck in.”

  I looked at the blood dripping down my hand. It was a surface wound, but it still hurt.

  Kilter waited patiently and, for once in his life, with no crass remark. I needed to do this. For Balen. For myself. For us.

  “I just want it known that I don’t like you.”

  “Ditto,” Kilter said. “Now, get the knife out of the tree, so I can get out of this fuckin’ cold.”

  After four days of putting up with his thoughtless remarks, I’d grown a thick skin when it came to his insensitivity. Crude, controlling, dominant, and downright rude, Kilter had put himself on my shit list. However, he knew how to push me to get things done, and learning how to deal with my new abilities was tough and sometimes frustrating as hell. Getting Balen off my mind was unlikely and Kilter knew it.

  It pissed me off that this guy knew how to get through to me. He was the only one who managed to get me out of bed and stop wallowing in self-pity. He’d been the one to get me to face reality. He made me fight back.

  In an odd sort of sadistic way, Kilter had saved my sorry ass from self-destruction. I hadn’t needed kindness and soft words and hugs and tears. I needed cruel, hard words and that was Kilter’s specialty.

  I focused on the knife stuck in the trunk of the tree. The cold winter breeze drifted through my hair but I hardly felt it. The wound on my hand throbbed a dull aching pain, reminding me this was real. This was now, and if it was the last thing I’d do, that damn knife was going to move.

  He told me to make my imagination reality. Anything was possible, especially if you were a Scar. And that meant Balen could come back to me. Maybe if I worked hard enough, perfected my skills, then I could do something to help him.

  “Stop fuckin’ thinking about him and concentrate,” Kilter growled.

  I scrunched my nose up at him. The guy had no qualms about reading anyone’s mind, and I couldn’t wait until I was able to block him.

  I focused. The knife moved. It jiggled. I saw it happening. I pushed harder until I was sweating under my thick winter coat. I could do this. It would happen if I let it.

  The knife jolted then fell to the ground, its steel blade glittering on the hard-packed layers of snow.

  “That was half assed,” Kilter said, but there was a hint of a smile. “Enough for today. Tomorrow we go to the mall.”

  “What? Why the mall? Are we shopping for duct tape for your mouth? Because I’d love to do the honors.”

  He made a half-grunt, half-hiss. “It’s Saturday. You’ll learn to harness the thoughts of crowds of people.” He started to walk back to the house.

  Oh, that sucked. The others had been careful about blocking their thoughts while living in the house, but on occasion, I became bombarded by thoughts from people driving by. Figures, Kilter didn’t want to take baby steps. Instead, he was throwing me into a cesspit of thoughts. At least, I’d learn a hell of a lot faster.

  Waleron had yet to make any appearance in the week since Balen had been gone. No one knew what was going on with him. For all I knew, he was already in Rest.

  “Hey Off-kilter.” He hated my nickname, which made it all the more sweet when I used it. He didn’t turn, but he stopped with one hand on the doorknob. “One day, you’re going to fall in love.”

  “You have to give a shit about people to do that. I don’t.” He threw open the massive arched door and walked inside.

  I fell back into the snow and stared up at the full moon. I was surprised when I heard Kilter in my head. Would the guy ever give me a moment’s peace? Probably forgot to tell me to mind my own goddamn business.

  “Changing into one of us took guts. Whether you did it to save your life or not, Waleron believed in you. He would have never risked us going against the Wraiths otherwise. All you have to do is believe in yourself. Now get inside before you freeze to death and Waleron comes after my ass for allowing it.”

  I was taken aback by his words and had no response. Not that he expected one. Nothing kind ever came out of that man’s mouth. He was right though. I had trouble believing in myself, had all my life. I quit everything before I had the chance to fail it, never once thinking that I’d conquer and succeed. It was better saying you quit rather than you failed. At least, that was what I always believed.

  My relationships said it all; end it before they can end it with you so you don’t get hurt. The relationships never failed, because I quit them before they started. But it was too late for that. I loved Balen. I wanted him in my life. I’d believed that what we shared would last, that it wouldn’t fail.

  And if it did fail?

  Yeah, it would hurt like hell, but wasn’t I already hurting? Maybe we wouldn’t have a second chance, but if we did, I sure as hell was going to fight for us.

  A snowflake fell on the tip of my nose then melted. The moisture soaked into my skin and I closed my eyes as more fell from the sky. I pictured him in my mind, those green eyes watching me, his hands on my skin, his lips hard against mine. I sighed, my body relaxing into the snow, sinking further and further into a trance of sensations. I imagined his breath was a feather sweeping across my neck, his fingers cupping my chin, thumb stroking the cleft, so soft and comforting.

  “Balen, I love you. I’m fighting for us, baby.”

  I JOLTED OUT OF sleep. Her voice. I heard her voice. She spoke to me. I ran my hand through my hair. That’s impossible; no Scar could reach me in the realm telepathically. Shit, not even Waleron had that ability. It had to have been a dream.

  “I love you. I’m fighting for us, baby.”

  My breath left my lungs as her voice seeped into my mind like a mist. Danni? “Danni?” Nothing. I came to my feet and waited. Paced and waited some more. Hoping I’d hear her again. Nothing.

  I stiffened as Waleron Traced into my marble cell. Christ, the guy looke
d like shit. That didn’t speak well for me.

  “A decision has been made. You’ll stand before the Deaconry.”

  The south wall of the room disintegrated into tiny particles of water then evaporated. I stood in front of an elaborate fountain facing the Deaconry members all sitting around an oblong marble table.

  Waleron took his seat beside Zurina and I nodded to her. I’d met her a few times and liked the Taldeburu. She’d been a good friend of Waleron’s mother and was one of the original Scars.

  Edan, the cocky bastard who had placed me in this hell, was the only one who looked relaxed, leaning back in his chair. The rest of the Wraiths appeared tired and short-tempered. I met Genevieve’s eyes and she quickly averted her gaze. Fuck. That wasn’t good.

  Tor spoke. “Balen, you defied the punishment of Rest. You also had others assist in your escape.” He paused. “Defying a sentence is punishable by death. However,” he paused again. “It came to our attention that a Bonding spell had been placed on you and a human. If you had been sent to Rest, this human would’ve died. Is this true?”

  I nodded.

  “And the Bond has been broken?”

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “Genevieve will answer to the Goddess Azzurra for her part in this. I must say, Genevieve fought valiantly for you, along with your Taldeburus. I believe she would’ve had us here for years if we didn’t consent to her wishes.” His lips curved up at the corner. “You can thank her that you’ll live. Understand that we must obey the laws the Scars and Wraiths inscribed in order for the balance of nature.

  “You’ve been found guilty. We have waived the incident of defying the sentence due to the circumstances that were beyond your control. However, you will be accountable for the past. The sentence stands. You will be sent to Rest.” I saw Waleron’s brows lower and Zurina closed her eyes. Genevieve refused to look at me. “Ten years. No exile.” The sound of my sentence pounded in my ears. “Have you anything to say?” I was about to say yes when a voice came from behind me.

  “I do.” All eyes turned to the far end of the room. I heard both Edan and Waleron curse under their breath as soft footfalls come toward me. I was as shocked as the rest of them to see Delara.

  “Delara, you have no right to be in the realm,” Urtzi thundered, his fist slamming down on the marble table. “Who is responsible for this?”

  “I’m here on behalf of Anstice the Healer, sister to Balen. As it was impossible for her to enter the realm without a Wraith or Taldeburu, I’m speaking as her voice and my own. We, the Toronto Talde, defend Balen, a man who risked his life by drinking vampire blood in order to save a woman from certain slavery to a vampire.”

  Edan’s chair scraped across the floor as he stood. “Delara,” he shouted.

  She ignored him and continued. “It’s our law to protect one another. But what if we’re given no option but to decide who to protect? An ultimatum. One or the other. Who decides? Who is more worthy? Is a Scar more worthy than a human? And if so, why?” Delara hesitated, her gaze shifting to each one of them. “Balen took the risk. He saved a woman who was being tortured. He sacrificed himself. Drank Ryszard’s blood in order to save her life. If he hadn’t, she would have become a slave. A fate worse than death. The Goddess Azzurra made us to protect humans, and Balen did that.”

  “And he led an enemy to the Healer’s location. His own fucking sister,” Edan refuted.

  “Yes. A risk. But it paid off. It wasn’t betrayal. He took a gamble, but there was no malice in what he did. It was a sacrifice. And you’re all making him pay for that sacrifice by punishing him.”

  “Delara,” Edan warned. “Return to my room. Now.”

  I jolted. What the hell? Edan and Delara?

  I noticed Waleron flinch, but he remained seated. The guy looked ready to ignite into a fireball. And he was made of ice.

  “Who brought this Scar to the realm?” Urtzi repeated.

  “Oh, I think that’s fairly obvious,” Mariana said with a smile and then licked her tongue across her lower lip.

  “You hide here in your fantasyland realm and dare to make judgment on him?” Delara shot at them, hands on her hips.

  “Ah, shit.” I immediately went on alert for a fight. We’d have no chance against the Wraiths in their realm, but after that speech, I’d fight to protect her ass.

  Edan’s hand on the table clenched into a fist. “Delara, leave.”

  I felt her tremble beside me.

  “Just because I sleep with you doesn’t mean you can order me around,” Delara said in a calm, cool voice.

  A low murmur of voices and tension erupted amongst the Wraiths. Edan went beet red and came out from behind the table.

  Waleron stood.

  “Let her finish,” Tor said. “Edan, sit.”

  Mariana spoke, looking at Edan. “I hope she was worth it. Cause you just got played.”

  “Shut up, Mariana.” Edan returned to his seat, his eyes like flames of fire ready to burst the room into an inferno.

  Waleron sat.

  The friction in the room was thick. Powers were heightening and the fountain bubbled, and the ground shifted beneath our feet. All it would take was one power to surface and a war would erupt.

  Delara avoided looking at Edan as she continued. “This matter should’ve never been brought here. I believe the Deaconry is to decide matters when a Scar has broken a law or has killed or harmed an innocent. Balen killed no one nor did a Scar die. Anstice is alive and well. Danni is as well. Who are you sentencing Balen for?”

  “He broke his oath. He assisted a vampire,” Urtzi said.

  “No,” Delara said. “He gave Ryszard information as to where Anstice was hiding. A simple plan to lure him into a trap. It led to Ryszard’s demise. If he hadn’t taken the chance, then we would be still chasing that bastard.” She shrugged. “Balen managed to do the impossible. He saved Danni, Anstice, and trapped Ryszard so the other Scars could kill the bastard. In actuality, he saved the day. Oh, and Danni also says that if Balen doesn’t return ASAP, she’s starting a rebellion. And just so you know, that girl is the strongest telepath there is, so she can reach Scars everywhere.” Delara smiled and cocked her hip. “I told her to start with Jasper.”

  My gaze darted to Delara and she smiled.

  Silence.

  I’d never had someone stand up for me as Delara had just done on behalf of herself, my sister, and Danni. Delara risked a lot by pissing off the fire Wraith. She had nothing to gain from this. So why do it?

  Zurina spoke in her usual calm, soothing voice. “Delara has made valid points, all of which should be taken into consideration. Technically, Balen didn’t harm anyone. Therefore, his case should never have been brought to the Deaconry.”

  Genevieve’s eyes glowed golden as she chewed her lower lip, obviously to keep from smiling.

  Edan slammed his fist onto the table. “Bullshit. He drank vampire blood. That’s enough to send him to Rest.”

  Delara glared at him. “You promised.”

  Edan sneered. “Yeah, that went to shit the moment you walked in here, sweetheart.”

  “Was this your so-called plan?” Mariana asked me, raising her brows. “Were you setting a trap for Ryszard all along?”

  Delara kicked me in the side of the calf when I hesitated.

  I glanced at Waleron, who gave a diminutive nod.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  Tor nodded his approval then looked at Waleron. “Your Scar, despite her uninvited entrance, has made compelling points. Balen has proven his loyalty with the issue with Ryker and, since his case is rather unusual . . .” He hesitated, looking to each of the Wraiths before receiving a nod from each of them except Edan. He continued, “If you wish to take this matter into your own hands, I don’t believe you will have any objection from the rest of the Deaconry. Besides, a rebellion with three Scar women is not something any of us want.”

  Waleron bowed his head. “Of course. And I request a change to the law. Ba
len has proven that vampire blood can be defeated once consumed. We must acknowledge this and make the appropriate amendment.”

  Tor nodded. “Agreed. The matter will be rectified at a later date.” Tor looked at me. “We discharge you to Waleron, Taldeburu of the Scars.” Tor looked at Genevieve and she raised her hands toward the fountain.

  I noticed a hint of a smile on Tor’s face as he eyed Delara, and then, to my surprise, the Wraith winked at her before he vanished into red particles of dust.

  Mariana and Urtzi followed suit, disappearing in their own fashions. Genevieve came around the side of the long table and her eyes met mine. “Fate has spoken. Don’t fuck it up.” She smiled and then disappeared in a swirl of mist.

  “Delara.” Edan strode toward her. “Let’s go.”

  Waleron stood, his eyes narrowing on Edan. Something bad was going to go down.

  “Delara,” Edan repeated.

  “I’m not coming back, Edan,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

  “What?” Edan’s entire body began to heat up and his hands turned red, his eyes orange. “You used me? You used me to get into the Deaconry to save . . . to save this asshole?”

  Delara shifted back a step. “It didn’t start out that way. I care for you, Edan, but I can’t do as you’ve asked of me. You gave me an ultimatum—I’m choosing to walk away.”

  “You’re a damn whore,” Edan shouted.

  Waleron’s snake tattoo on his neck slithered across his skin. He took a step toward Edan, but Zurina placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered something to him.

  It was obvious Delara had intended to leave the Wraith much sooner. Edan had inadvertently given her the playing card to access the realm and the Deaconry.

  Edan turned to Waleron. “That appeal you want for Tarek to remain in Rest? Consider it void. You will never get it for as long as I’m on the Deaconry.” He burst into a fireball and disappeared.

  Delara’s shoulders slumped and her eyes closed. I reached forward and took her hand in mine. “I . . . fuck, Delara, I don’t know what to say. Thank you just isn’t enough.” I waited until she raised her eyes to mine. “Why?” I asked.