“Don’t get what we did today twisted in your mind, new girl. Fucking does not imply emotional connection.”
“No,” I said, reaching down to cup him in my hand, “but it certainly provides a much-needed outlet for my frustrations.”
He leaned into my hold. “I thought you felt nothing.”
“As you have already said, Ozereus, I have evolved. Perhaps even one as old as you could be capable of the same.”
“Or perhaps some of your mother’s darkness did transfer to you,” he muttered under his breath. “Maybe you now crave that darkness as much as I do.”
“Maybe I always have…” My words were a mere whisper on the wind, but Oz heard them nonetheless. His eyes widened and his nostrils flared. “Speaking of my mother,” I said, letting go of him to head toward the spotted house, “I think the time has finally come for you to tell me all you know. Like it or not, your uncommunicative nature is what gives others the chance to leverage me. Kaine has already offered the truth that I seek—Deimos too. In the spirit of honesty, I will tell you that I do not wish to get what I seek from either of them, but I will if you force my hand. Whatever alliance we have, it will never be enough to override my need for answers.”
I crested the porch of the home and looked back to find Oz staring at me, jaw flexing wildly again. Not waiting for him to follow, mainly because I wasn’t sure he would, I made my way into the rundown home and wandered around. It brought forth a twisted sense of nostalgia—an intensity that fed my need to be on edge. To be diligent at every moment.
Beyond the kitchen was a small bathroom, its fractured mirror catching what little light shone through the dusty window. I leaned against the sink and stared at my broken reflection, a distorted version of my face looking back at me. Then another appeared next to it, Oz’s dark features carved into as many pieces as my own.
I moved to face him, but he caught me and turned me back around. Looking at me only through the mosaic of mirror, he finally spoke.
“I was there the day you were born,” he said, his voice low and gruff and oddly distant. “Celia knew it was time and sent for me. She knew I would come, even after all she’d done.” Again, I attempted to face him, but he held me in place, his brown eyes only meeting mine through the broken glass. “When I arrived, Sean, whom she’d named Aniketos, was nearly out. Once she delivered him and saw he had no markings—that he was not destined for wings—she dropped back to the ground and let out a sigh of relief. But it was short lived. Moments later, she realized something was moving inside her—that there was another.” Oz’s eyes closed, an attempt to shut down the memories plaguing his mind. “I cannot describe the look of terror in her eyes when she realized that you were female. That you would face death because she had been wounded and selfish and weak of character for a single moment in her life. That her poor judgment would lead to both your creation and your demise.”
“So you took me—to make sure I lived.”
“She begged me to find a way to save you,” he continued as though he had not heard me speak. “She said she would give anything to see you live. So I found a way, but it came at great sacrifice—to both of us.”
Oz’s hand on my shoulder tightened its grip.
“I know what this cost you, Oz,” I said softly. “What did it cost her?”
He scoffed. It was a hollow and mirthless sound that perfectly matched his expression.
“Her…transgression with Ares was forgiven. Her status with the Light Ones was reinstated.”
“That is not a cost,” I argued. “That is a reward.”
“No, it wasn’t. Because she did the unthinkable,” he said, his fingertips digging further into my shoulder.
“What did she do?” I asked, my voice nearly breathless.
“She traded her knowledge of you both for those wings. She gave Sean to Ares to be raised after I took you away. The moment she returned to the Hallowed Gates, any memory of either of you was repressed. There were moments when I saw her grapple with confusion about that period of time, but it was nothing she couldn’t easily chalk up to her time as a Dark One—her time with Ares. It was the excuse for the holes in her mind. I wonder if she managed to remember over time…”
“And for helping her, your wings were clipped,” I said, my words a realization and not a question.
“Yes…because he who assists with the sin is somehow worse than the sinner herself.”
The resentment in his voice was so thick it clouded the air around me, making it hard to breathe. In that moment, everything about Oz made sense, from his surly demeanor to his inability to trust and the distance he kept from others. What had happened to him was the ultimate betrayal, and it had scarred him so profoundly that he would never be the same again. Perhaps making him a Dark One had not been a curse, but a gift—an identity to hide behind to support that which he had become after falling.
“For my part in this, Oz, I am truly sorry,” I said, staring at his empty eyes in the mirror. “Maybe things would have been better for you if you had let me die—”
No sooner had those words left my mouth than I found myself jerked around, Oz’s face in mine.
“I have spent almost every day since I made the decision to hand you over to Demeter wondering if she could keep you safe—if she was the right one to do so. I needed someone on the fringes, isolated from the others, but still with some measure of power,” he said. I did not dare speak. “I questioned if I had done enough—if I had kept my word to Celia. Because despite what your brothers may think, I am a being of my word. I knew that I could not return to check on you because, in doing so, I would only bring attention to your existence. So I stayed away.”
“And then I showed up in the Tenth Circle…”
“Yes,” he said through gritted teeth. “At first, I did not realize who you were. It wasn’t until I heard of your connection to Demeter that I knew you were the child I’d rescued.”
“Your hostility was a mask, then,” I said, trying to puzzle out his initial reaction to me.
“Not entirely,” he replied, eyes roaming my face. My body. “You reminded me of all I’d lost, even if that wasn’t fair to you at the time.”
“And then you birthed my wings in an act of desperation, putting my life above yours once more, and I made you a Dark One because of it.”
A menacing smile spread across his face. “The best present you could have ever given me.”
A gift, not a curse…
“Then consider it my thanks for all you have done.”
“I don’t want your thanks,” he breathed, lips at my ear.
“What do you want?” I asked, my eyes closing at the feel of his breath on my skin.
He hesitated for a moment. “More than you can give.” His fingers released my shoulders and slid down my back to where my wings attached. A shiver ran through my body.
“But you have wings now, Oz,” I said, looking up at his tense features.
“Thanks to you.” His wings shot as wide as they could, the loud snapping sound echoing through the tiny room. “But mine are not the problem,” he said, eyeing my neck. The deep V of my shirt. “Yours are.”
“What is the problem with them, exactly?” I asked, shoving him back a step.
He stared me down like he would an enemy. “Their color…”
“They are black—”
“For now,” he said, bitter disappointment in his tone.
“Would they be better if they matched yours permanently?”
He let out a low growl. “Yes…”
“And yet you keep me from Kaine’s grasp, claiming that you do not want me tarnished as you are.”
“Because that’s true,” he said, closing the distance between us. “There is a war inside me that I will never win where you’re concerned. A hunger that will never be sated. Being near you as you are is torture, and yet I cannot leave you, for reasons my dark side cannot fathom.”
“So here you stay,” I whispered. I looked
up at him through my lashes, doing all I could to make sense of the complicated, misunderstood being before me. I wondered if anyone ever could. “Is that why you led me here tonight?” I asked. “To tell me this?”
His hands flexed wildly at his sides, and for a moment, I questioned whether he was going to punch me or run away. Then they clamped down on my waist, putting those thoughts to rest. In a flash, he scooped me up and slammed me against the cold tile wall. The broken pieces bit into my skin as the weight of his pelvis against my body held me in place.
“You’re toying with something you don’t understand,” he warned, his voice low, his lips at my throat.
“I am toying with nothing,” I replied.
He looked at me, his dark expression highlighted by the faint moonlight. “It sure doesn’t feel that way…”
I stared back at him, my irritation plain. “Was it not you who said that what happened on the rooftop was sex and nothing more?” I asked, wrapping my legs around his waist. “Was it not you who made it plain that there is nothing between us beyond the physical?”
He sucked in a breath as I pulled him tighter against me. “I will never be what you want me to be,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Perhaps you already are,” I said, pushing my face into his. “Is this really the moment you wish to discuss this matter, or should we finish what you started?” I let my gaze fall to where his body met mine, then back up to his face. The low rumble that escaped him as he unbuttoned my pants was answer enough.
He yanked on them as though they were his enemy, undoubtedly trying to figure out how best to remove them without having to relinquish his hold on me. As the battle waged on, I stared past him into the vacant house. A shadow spilled across the room through the glass of the front door; a silhouette stood outside, dark and foreboding.
“Oz,” I said just as he pushed himself inside me.
The front door swung open to reveal Hermes, disheveled and crazed. One look at me, pressed against the wall in a compromising position, had him smiling with delight.
“Is it my turn next?” Hermes asked, eyes blazing with lust.
Oz tried to pull away from me, but I grabbed his face and held him still.
“Do. Not. Stop,” I ordered.
Dark delight overtook his countenance as he shook his head. Then he thrust himself inside me again. “If he takes one more step, I’ll have to postpone this for a minute. I can’t kill him from between your legs.”
It was my turn to mimic his expression.“You disappoint me, Dark One. I had such high expectations…”
“Could you possibly speed this up a bit?” Hermes asked from the front of the house. “As much as I enjoy a good show, I prefer one I can participate in.”
“Then feel free to leave,” I replied.
His brows furrowed with confusion. “But you summoned me…”
Oz went still inside me. “Sorry, new girl. We’ll have to finish this later.”
He put me down and shielded me while we pulled up our pants and fastened them. Then he turned to face the once-dead god.
“I did summon you,” Oz said, walking toward him. “Tell me something, Hermes…we had an unfortunate run-in with some of your brethren recently, and they said Demeter told them where we were. I can’t seem to figure out if they were lying to set her up or if she really did it. I also can’t help but wonder, if they did lie, who could have told them our location.” His steps propelled him toward the waiting messenger god. The wings on his feet twitched with agitation. “Did you tell the gods where they could find us? Are you their little bitch spy?”
Rage the likes of which I had not seen since the night Hermes became corporeal flashed in his expression.
“I am no one’s bitch,” he seethed.
“Be that as it may, I’m curious as to how Apollo, Artemis, Athena, and Aphrodite all happened upon the Victorian, looking for Hades.”
“I have not seen Demeter,” he said, looking past Oz to me, “and I am hardly the only one who knows where you live. I know of the Dragon…the gargoyle called Azriel…Phobos…” He let that name ring out through the decrepit house for far too long, and I hesitated, waiting for him to appear out of thin air, as though that were possible. I hoped it was not. “Perhaps they’re all joining forces to bring you to heel.”
“Good luck with that,” Oz said with a laugh that covered his growing rage. “She doesn’t do commands, verbal or magical. They’re all fucked if they think that’s going to work.”
“Perhaps,” was Hermes’ only reply.
I pondered his words for a moment, then addressed him. “I need you to bring a message to Hecate,” I said, stepping alongside Oz.
“Not until we know he can be trusted—”
“Tell her we need to meet again,” I said, cutting Oz off. “That I need her help with something.”
I could feel Oz boring a hole in my face, but I ignored him.
“How my mind does wonder,” Hermes mocked. “I shall bring her the message, but I cannot promise she will acquiesce. The loose souls of the Oudeis have her spooked into hiding. Knowing the gods are free will not help. She will not come out again unless it is to find a way to put them all back.”
“And yet she does not fear you,” I said, pointing out that irony.
He shrugged. “She is the controller of the dead, which I am no longer and wish to remain as such. I have her word that, if I help her, she will ensure that when the others are once again returned to the Oudeis—as I know they one day will be—I will not.”
“That is not her call to make,” I argued.
“Hades cannot make it either,” he said, his voice taunting. “Where is the Soul Keeper, anyway? Did one of my fellow gods succeed in disposing of him?”
“They did not,” I replied, stepping closer still. Oz’s hand clamped down on my shoulder. “Where is Hecate? How do I know that she is even alive and that you will not run to the gods and bring them to us—for the second time, perhaps?”
“You will have to trust me as she does, Princess of the Underworld,” he replied. “I will give her your message in exchange for your part in my release. I owe you that much.”
“St. Agnes in an hour,” Oz said. “And for her sake—and yours—she’d better be there. Minus an army of dead.”
Hermes laughed. “Your threat is empty, Dark One, but if it makes you feel better, I will pass it along. I’m quite sure Hecate could use a laugh.”
Before Oz could reply, Hermes took to the sky, his winged feet carrying him fast as lightning.
“I’m going to kill that asshole on principle alone,” Oz muttered under his breath.
“Only after he brings Hecate.”
“If he brings her and not a bunch of corporeal once-dead souls…”
“Fine. You can kill him either way.”
“Good,” he said as his weighted gaze fell on me. “He interrupted me…I don’t like being interrupted.”
“Neither do I, but we must go home and work on a solution to propose to Hecate. If she thinks we are depending on her too heavily, I fear she will try to leverage her position. We cannot afford for that to happen. Loyal to my father or not, she would seek to advance her position if she saw a chance to do so.”
He stared at me silently for a moment before letting out a loud exhale in frustration.
“You can start on that with the others when we get home.”
“And what will you be doing during that time?”
“Having a shower—a cold one.” I cocked an eyebrow at him in curiosity, the need for a freezing shower at that particular moment not making sense. “It kills this,” he said, placing my palm on the crotch of his pants. “I don’t want to deal with your brothers’ hostility when I walk into the house looking and smelling like I just fucked you. Their desire to kill me will derail their focus.”
I felt the corner of my mouth curl. “Fear not, Oz. I will not let them harm you.”
His eyes went wide as my hand squeezed him a bit, and I
used his moment of surprise to call forth my wings. I ran out of the house and shot into the air. I could hear Oz shouting something at me as I soared through the sky, headed for the Victorian. I knew it would not be long before he was at my side, but I cared not. In that moment, I understood what it was like to be him. To not care about the consequences of my actions; to do only as I wished and not as others expected. That was freedom in its truest form.
I wanted to enjoy it one last time before I returned to the Underworld to either restore it or, if we failed, rule it.
23
I heard muffled voices inside the Victorian as I landed in the backyard. Then a cry rang out, and I threw open the sliding door to the living room. The echoes came from the basement, so I hurried down, hoping my brothers were all right.
As I ran down the steps, I could hear Casey’s calm and menacing voice asking someone a question. When I arrived in the basement, I found him holding in his hand the face of a male who was chained to the wall.
“Tell me what I want to know and this will end,” Casey promised the wilted being.
My brothers and Aery turned to me as I approached the naked and bleeding hostage.
“Where have you been?” Kierson asked, concern thick in his voice. “You weren’t answering your phone—”
“We made an unexpected stop after we completed our mission,” I said, moving closer to the bleeding prisoner. “Who is this?” I thought I recognized the battered male before me. I took his face from Casey and studied it. There was something familiar about him—something I could not quite place.
The prisoner’s eyes met mine and he let loose a mirthless laugh. “What kind of world is this that you do not recognize a god when you see one?” he asked, voice thick with disdain. “You should be bowing at my feet.”
“I bow for no one,” I said, digging my nails into his chin.
“You will,” he said, his bloodstained smile spreading wide. “You will…”
“Who is this god threatening me?” I asked the others. “The one unaware that he will remain breathing only as long as we deem necessary?”
Unspoken (Unborn Book 3) Page 18
