by Melissa Haag
I could feel the fire growing inside of me. I tried to hold it back. I knew what would happen if I completely gave in to it. I could feel my old burns starting to tingle with pain. Yet, I was helpless to completely stop what was happening or my need to punish.
“Get to the point, Druid,” the middle dragon growled.
“Yes, of course. I'm here to offer you an opportunity to be free of your oppression. To make a stand against it. To give your life for it. I won't promise redemption. I won't promise you will go to a better place once you're gone. But I can promise your soul will be used to create something that will always stand against those who wish to oppress the unique and undesired.”
A tingle of pain encircled my wrists, and I looked down at my bonds. Green sparks flew from the metal as flames engulfed my hands. Like the last few times my fire appeared, it seared my skin. And, like the last few times, I couldn't stop any of it.
I opened my mouth to cry out, but nothing came. In agony, I raged against my silence, the rage feeding my fury to the point where I stopped feeling.
“You want to kill us?” the first dragon asked. “Use us in some type of ritual sacrifice?”
“Yes,” Zayn said with not an ounce of shame or remorse.
He’d just admitted to wanting to kill them; yet, I still felt not even a hint of wickedness from him and everything from the three dragons.
“You've all admitted to me that you're weary of this existence. That you're tired of what this world has to offer you. I'm offering to help you find a quick and peaceful end. An opportunity to use what's left of your existence in a way that strikes a small blow of retribution against those who oppressed you. That's all. If you're not interested, you are free to leave. There's no spell keeping you here. If you are interested, I will willingly accept the gift of your soul, and I will respect any dying wishes that you have.”
The metal binding my wrists burst apart with a loud snap. Zayn, who’d been focused on the dragons, glanced at me as I reached for the bindings on my ankles.
“We don't have much time,” he said. “As soon as the fury is free, you will want to be gone.”
I set my hands on my ankles and watched the flames burn through the shackles there. Free, I got to my feet and moved to the green surrounding me. It sizzled and sparked as I neared it.
All four of the men were watching me now. Zayn’s eyes were filled with urgency. We both knew it wouldn’t be long now.
“There's nothing else I can say that will convince you of my need,” Zayn said rapidly. “Many others have already given their souls to my cause. They believed their willing sacrifice would earn them a place in whatever god's realm upon their death. I can't say I believe the same, but I swear you will live on because of your soul-sacrifice. Who among you is ready to be done with this world? Who among you is ready to commit one more act of defiance against those who oppressed you? Who among you will help me?”
I pressed both hands against the barrier. Light engulfed me to the point it was hard to see. Outside the magic bowl, the men squinted.
The dragon who had been quiet so far, the one pulling me with his wickedness, finally spoke.
“I will.”
And with two words, he set my world on fire.
“He is mine!” I screamed.
Rage consumed me. Ablaze, I could feel my skin giving way to the fury. I struck the shield with my fists, raining blows on the druid’s magic.
Two of the dragons fled seconds before I burned through the shield.
“No!” Zayn yelled as I stepped through the remnants of the shimmer. “Please, I need him.”
Yet, he didn't try to stop me from reaching out for the dragon.
The old one stood as I stopped before him, his steady gaze on me. He didn’t flinch as I reached out and grabbed him by the neck.
“Don’t do this,” Zayn begged. “How many burns do you have already? You can’t condemn him to hell. You can only condemn yourself.”
His words barely registered through the words ricocheting in my mind.
“Rylee McGoan, confess.”
“Fury, I have done many things in my life. More than most. Confessing would take more time than either of us cares to give. Take me to hell. If you can.” His gaze shifted to the druid who was mumbling something I couldn’t understand.
“Maybe next time, Fury,” the dragon said with a slight smile.
“No. This time, I’ll get it right.”
“Rylee McGoan, I condemn you to he—” A bone-shattering ache exploded in my core. My mouth opened in a silent scream as the flames finished engulfing me.
Darkness extinguished my vision, but not before I saw the fire spread to Rylee, who smiled serenely at me.
* * * *
“Fury?”
A trickle of cold water splashed on my face. I turned my head and opened my mouth, taking a small drink and sputtering.
“Thank the useless gods,” a familiar voice said. “I thought you’d gone too far and burned yourself out.”
I wasn’t so sure I hadn’t. My skin felt raw and exposed. Like I’d been burned all over. That thought created an avalanche of memories that dumped on me all at once.
Opening my eyes, I groaned.
“I think I can help you heal a bit if you’ll allow me,” Zayn said.
“Yes.” I didn’t care what he did. I just wanted the pain to stop. Even my eyelids hurt.
He held up a tin, twisted the top off, and dug out a finger full of salve.
“Open up and try to swallow as quickly as possible. Your gag reflex will only increase the longer it sits in your mouth.”
I opened up, and he swiped the paste so far back, I almost gagged anyway.
“Swallow,” he said.
I did, just as the taste hit me. The rancid tang had me gagging as an aftereffect.
“Sorry. There isn’t a way to make that more pleasant tasting without ruining the spell.”
He reached out and pulled back the blanket covering me. I wanted to grab it back and swear, but I couldn’t move. Everything hurt.
“Why am I naked?” I rasped.
“You burned everything away.”
Burned away my clothes? That hadn’t happened before.
He continued to look down at me. I did, too, but had to turn my head away from the sight of my raw flesh. How close had I come to burning myself out like Zayn said?
My gaze caught on the crisp husk of a body not far from me, and I gasped. The dragon. He’d been burnt to almost nothing. Like me, his clothes were gone. Unlike me, his corpse was blackened from head to toe. A thin bone protruded from behind him, all that remained of his wings.
I closed my eyes against my impotent anger and frustration. I didn’t even know what he’d done to deserve that kind of end.
The gods had done this. They’d made me this way by giving me a power that I couldn’t control and didn’t understand. All the anger I felt in that moment was directed at them for robbing me of the life I should have had.
Something wet trailed from the corner of my eye.
“I don’t understand,” Zayn said. “The paste should be helping.”
Chapter Thirteen
The druid’s concern cut through my self-loathing. I turned my head away from what I’d done and opened my eyes. As I moved, I noticed there was less pain than before.
“The paste is helping. I don’t hurt as much,” I assured him.
“You’re crying blood, though.”
“Yeah, that’s just something I do when I’m upset.”
I wiped away the tears, careful of my tender skin.
“Or when you’re in extreme pain,” Zayn said.
I eased myself into a sitting position and tucked the edges of the blanket under my butt, a thin barrier against the cold cement.
“How do you know so much about furies?” I asked.
He gave me a wry smile.
“I’d prefer not to say. Why are you upset?”
I waved a hand at the dragon and e
xhaled heavily.
“I hate what I am. What I do. I don’t even know what the dragon did to deserve that, but I couldn’t stop it.”
Zayn, who’d been hunkered down on the balls of his feet, sat and studied me. In turn, I did the same. This was the first time I really looked at him without his hood up. And, everything I’d noted before had been done in a fog of panic or anger. I hadn’t noticed the green flecks in his kind, hazel eyes or how his hair was long enough it was showing a hint of wave as it fell around his head in disarray. Mostly, I hadn’t noticed the crease lines marking his forehead. A sign of constant worry or constant surprise?
“In all the research I’ve done,” he said slowly, “I’ve never heard of a fury who didn’t embrace what she was.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t know what I was until a few months ago. My mom ditched me in Uttira without a word of explanation. I thought I was human.”
“That had to be a shock.”
I shrugged lightly.
“Not as much as it should have been. I guess deep down, I knew something was wrong with me.”
“Wrong?”
“I don’t want to be who I am. I don’t know what the hell is going on half the time. I hate the urges I have to hurt people when I don’t even know why. The gods are assholes for making me this way.”
“Not gods. Just one. You serve Hades.”
“Awesome. Know where he is? I’d like to throat punch the asshole.”
Zayn laughed.
“He’d probably find it amusing. You furies are like his daughters. I’m not sure there’s much you could do wrong in his eyes.”
“Lovely.”
“You didn’t kill him, by the way. The dragon, I mean.”
I arched a brow and glanced at the burnt body.
“His current condition would beg to differ,” I said.
“He was gone before the flames consumed him. I gave him the peaceful, quick end he’d asked for. It wasn’t murder. I had his consent.”
“I’m too tired and hurt to care one way or another. As long as you’re gone before I get my wicked radar back, we’re good.” I studied his hazel eyes for a moment. “Why are you doing this? Killing all these creatures?”
“Not killing,” he said with a pacifying gesture. “I collect their life-energy, or soul, depending on whatever you believe, which they gave freely.”
“Okay. But why?”
He grew serious and slightly sad.
“You saw my sister. She’s a prisoner of her own home. Because of magic. Because the gods are cruel and made my twin mortal.”
Twin? I wasn’t expecting that.
Somewhere nearby, a phone buzzed.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Megan Smith.”
“I’m glad I met you. I hope you’ll remember this conversation when you wake.”
* * * *
Insistent buzzing near my ear brought me back out of my magically induced sleep. There was no groggy disorientation this time. I knew right where I was and exactly what had happened. It was hard not to remember with the throbbing pain drumming inside my skull and the sickening dance going on in my stomach. I opened my eyes and managed to prop myself up enough so I could throw up.
When I finished heaving, I looked around.
Zayn was gone. He’d left behind his jacket, though, which he’d laid over me for extra warmth. And my phone. He must have removed it from my coat before sticking me in his shield. I hadn’t even thought to check for it after freeing my hands. I’d been too busy with the fury fire burning inside of me.
While I was grateful it hadn’t burned up with the rest of my things, I was more grateful that I hadn’t thrown up on it. I needed to call Oanen. He was probably worried as hell.
Sighing, I sat up and winced at the pain on my forearms. Zayn’s paste had healed most of the burns I’d gained from my little stunt, but the deeper ones on both forearms remained. They throbbed in time with the older burns.
I hissed out a breath and wished I had more of Zayn’s ass-paste to eat.
I frowned at that thought, knowing it hadn’t come out right.
My phone buzzed again, distracting me, and I picked it up. Oanen’s name showed brightly on the display.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Where are you?” His clipped, angry words made me smile. I’d never been so glad to hear his voice.
“I’m not sure. And no, I’m not going outside to check. I’m lying naked on the floor with a blanket and a jacket covering me.”
Nothing but silence answered me for several, long heartbeats.
“Whose?”
“Whose what?”
“Whose jacket is covering you?”
“That doesn’t matter. Just come get me. I’ll turn on my GPS and text you the location.”
The line went dead. That seemed a bit overdramatic. I wrinkled my nose at the phone but did as I said I would. Less than a second after I sent the location, he sent back that he was on his way.
With a sigh, I scooted away from my vomit pile and lay back down on the cold floor. It felt good on my head but was making the rest of me ache.
I dozed lightly until a door banged nearby.
“Megan?” Oanen’s voice rang out.
“Here.”
I didn’t bother trying to sit up. I was too tired. Too cold.
Steps scraped against the floor, drawing closer.
When I blinked my eyes open, Oanen was there, already bending down toward me. His carefully blank mask never slipped, but the hold he had on what he was feeling did. Rage, something close to that of a fury’s, filled my head along with a paralyzing fear.
“Please tell me you brought the car,” I said softly. “I’m too cold to fly.”
He made a pained sound and scooped me into his arms. Without a word, he turned on his heel and walked back the way he’d come.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against his rapidly beating heart.
Moments came and went. Him buckling me in. The vibration of the tires on the road. The sound of cars. The feeling of being carried upstairs. The soft sheets rubbing against the raw places still remaining on my skin. Then, nothing for a while.
When I opened my eyes again, the pain in my head had been downgraded to a mild headache, and the sun had come up to light the bedroom.
I rolled from my side to my back and winced.
The bed beside me moved, and I looked up at Oanen, who was leaning against the headboard.
“How long have I been out?”
“Almost six hours.”
I groaned and struggled to sit up, the jacket and blanket from Zayn hampering my movements.
“What happened, Megan? You promised not to leave the car.”
His tone had me whipping my head in his direction mid-struggle.
“Are you serious right now? You know better than anyone else what I am. How little control I have over what I do. What the hell do you think happened?”
“I don’t know. Where are your clothes? And who gave you this jacket?”
My fury lifted its head wearily.
“No,” I said firmly. “I’m not doing this. I’m not going to get angry with you. And I’m not going to deal with your pouty possessiveness right now.”
Ignoring the aches and pains, I threw off the jacket and blanket and rose naked from the bed.
“I burned away my clothes and a lot of my skin. Zayn Sias, the druid we’ve been looking for, covered me and gave me some paste to make the worst of it go away.
“When you’re in your right mind, I’ll keep my promise, and we’ll talk.”
I turned my back to him, ignored his soft curse, and marched my butt to the bathroom. After I used the toilet and brushed my teeth, I attempted a shower. It didn’t last longer than a hurried hair wash to remove the puke smell. Instead of reaching for a towel to dry off, I just stood there, dripping.
On the other side of the iced-glass partition, the bathroom door opened.
“Di
d you send him to hell?” Oanen asked.
“No. I can’t send anyone to hell. All I do is hurt myself every time I try.”
“You hurt yourself trying to send him to hell?”
“No. He’s innocent as far as my fury is concerned. I didn’t do anything to him.”
There was a long moment of silence.
“I’m trying to understand, Megan, but you’re making it hard.”
I knew he was trying to understand what had happened to me, but he was focusing on who I was with rather than what happened to me. I opened the door so he would get the full picture.
His gaze swept over me, lingering on the burn on my chest and the ones on my hip and arms.
“There’s the burn on my back, too. Four times, Oanen. Since the lake, I’ve tried to send someone to hell four times. Each time, I pass out and wake up with a burn and the inability to feel wickedness.”
Understanding started to light his eyes as he crossed his arms.
“The numbness doesn’t last long. A day or two, at most. Then I start feeling the wickedness again. That’s what I was feeling yesterday in the car. The wickedness was everywhere, but I was sitting there trying to resist the urge to get out and beat someone because I’d promised you I’d stay put. I don’t know what happened next. I don’t remember leaving, only waking up where you found me.
“Zayn was there along with three dragons. He’s not what we thought he was.”
“What’s that?” Oanen asked softly.
“A killer. He isn’t killing the people we’re finding dead. He’s asking them for their life-force. And some of them are so unhappy with their lives, they’re willingly giving it.” I looked at the burns on my arms. “These are because one of the dragons was wicked. Very, very wicked. I wanted to hurt him so badly that I couldn’t stop myself.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
“I remember grabbing him by his throat and then feeling pain. So much pain. When I came to, the dragon was burnt to a crisp. But, Zayn was still there. He was worried I’d pushed myself too far and was trying to heal me. The paste he gave me helped take away some of the pain and heal some of the burns.
“I don’t know what he’s doing with the life forces he’s collecting, but I don’t think it’s for anything bad. If it was, I would have sensed his wickedness last night before I tried punishing the dragon.”
