Empire of Secrets: A New Adult Paranormal Romance with Young Adult Appeal (God of Secrets Book 2)
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Text Copyright © 2020 L. R. W. Lee
All rights reserved.
Woodgate Publishing
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, consult the website at www.lrwlee.com.
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Map of the Empire of Secrets
Map of the Empire of Secrets
Chapter One
I’m going to retch. There’s no escaping it.
I swallow, lips still pressed to Harpoc’s—it’s the swoon-worthy way we left Turkey in a cloud of his dark swirls a minute ago. But my stomach is utterly and completely done with what feels like the longest tripskip he’s ever taken me on.
Panic swells in me. There’s nothing I can do to avoid hurling at him because my body’s frozen in place as darkness and disorientation continue pummeling me despite Harpoc’s steady hands holding my waist.
I swallow again, but it’s not working.
It’ll be so gross.
I can’t even warn him.
Here I thought I was getting my nausea under control from this abominable means of transport, but clearly not.
Any love-struck, fluttering butterflies in my stomach crash-land in the swell of nausea.
I swallow again, begging my stomach to calm.
You can do it, Pell, my inner voice cheers me on.
Nope, my stomach’s not having it.
Please… the tone in my head turns pleading. I’ll get you some Tums as soon as we land, I promise.
I pray my gut doesn’t know what a liar I am because who knows what the Empire of Secrets offers for raging stomachs.
No dice. That feeling of impending doom, that unmistakable juices-building-in-the-back-of-my-throat-just-before-I-hurl is growing, growing.
Any second. I can’t hold back any longer.
I feel ground beneath my feet for no more than an instant before I fall forward on a patch of dirt amongst ferns and short foliage and my stomach purges itself with a vengeance. Coffee, this morning’s breakfast, and who knows what else, from before we dealt with King Midas, vacate my insides in a hurry.
No birds chirp. No bees buzz. Not one sound echoes under the dim of the dense tree canopy that Harpoc somehow found a small clearing to land in. I don’t blame them. Retching sounds are disgusting. I’d shut up, too.
I’m panting, still on all fours several minutes later.
Harpoc’s beside me, holding back my long, port red hair along with my full hood with one hand. His other hand moves up and down my back as I suck in air, trying to reason with my stomach. But the smell of sick makes that impossible.
Harpoc banishes it.
I spit the wretched taste from my mouth and sit back on my haunches, tears in my eyes from the ordeal. “Thank you.”
I eye him up and down, but thankfully it seems his gray duster and black pants are unaffected. Even his wavy, onyx hair remains perfectly styled.
No doubt I’m a complete mess.
A complete mess…. Horror replaces that sick feeling, and I drop my gaze to the slate-colored leather long coat Harpoc did his abracadabra to create just moments before. It’s the finest thing I’ve ever worn, and I can’t bear to see it soiled, especially like this.
My hands follow my gaze, running over the soft leather that’s trimmed with fine black decorative stitching along the lapels, then over the three silver buttons that line either side of the front below that.
I exhale heavily. Miraculously it seems to have avoided the whole ordeal, too, unless…. I look up at Harpoc.
“We couldn’t have you looking anything but your best.” He winks.
I let a corner of my mouth hitch. “Seems I owe you.”
“I have a few ways you might make it up to me.” Heat simmers in his eyes and the butterflies that crash-landed, launch once more in my very empty stomach.
“How about we fly the rest of the way?” Harpoc says.
“I could kiss you.” I run a hand along his chiseled jaw, and as I do that foul taste vanishes from my mouth as he leans down.
“I plan to finish what we started.” Seduction fills his tone as he pivots closer, still on his knees, and then his arms are around me and he’s pulling me onto his lap and kissing me fiercely. My toes curl inside my new black boots as I eagerly surrender, running my hands through the curls at the back of his neck.
Harpoc does indeed finish what we start… and then some.
I’m panting for a wholly different reason, and my lips feel swollen by the time we pull back, but I don’t care. Harpoc just grins, clearly satisfied with himself.
Arrogant male.
Crickets chirp and owls hoot—no doubt telling us to get a room—as I look around for the first time, noticing the light has nearly abandoned us. I pull the lapels of my coat up, looking for warmth now that the sun has gone down.
“Where are we?”
Harpoc hugs me and I melt into his warmth. “We’re on Nemus Isle, one of the most remote of the archipelago of one hundred and forty-four floating islands that make up the Empire of Secrets. They run the gambit of sizes, populations, and climates, so if you get tired of one, you can find yourself another, more agreeable, without much trouble.”
“Floating islands?” I furrow my brow. “How does that work? I hadn’t pictured the Empire of Secrets as coastal.”
Harpoc chuckles, then tweaks my nose. “It’s not. These islands float in the air.”
My eyes go wide. “You’re telling me”—I scan the treetops—“this land mass is floating on nothing but air currents? How’s that even possible?”
“No idea, but it’s the way it’s always been.”
“Have you ever accidently run over a planet or two that’s in the way? Ever lose your
bearings because an island turns around? Ever lost your way home because home’s moved without you knowing?”
He snorts. “No, not to my knowledge, and no.”
I shake my head. Nothing about Harpoc or his secret magic makes logical sense, so why do I expect this to? When will I learn?
Floating islands. Okay, sure. Fine. And pigs fly here, too, no doubt.
“Which climate do you most prefer?” I ask. He hadn’t so much as shivered in Greece, nor broken a sweat in Egypt.
“Whichever one we find the most pleasure on.” He draws out the words making it clear he has more than getting back to nature in mind. A lot more.
My cheeks burn. I’m glad it’s nearly dark so he can’t see the traitors they are because they might as well scream to the entire empire my thoughts about getting to know all of him.
Oh, Pell, my inner voice groans. She’s warming up to the idea of doing more with Harpoc, but she’s never one to dive in half-cocked.
“How’s your stomach?”
I bob my head. “I think you gave it something more constructive to think about with that kiss.”
Harpoc laughs. “My kisses are a panacea for upset stomachs? I’ll have to remember that.”
Harpoc shifts me off his lap, then stands and helps me up.
Chivalry is strong with this one. I give him another point. He’s up to three now, between opening doors for me and protecting Eser, the boy indentured to Zeki—returning he and his siblings back home safely. I probably should give him more than one point for that; it was above and way beyond opening a door.
“We best get going unless we want to sleep out here.” Excitement dances in his beautiful gold and silver eyes.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’s excited to show off his home.
Pell, he’s a god, not a small child.
I know, but still.
A shiver wracks my frame; it’s turned decidedly chilly without the sun. “Sounds good.”
He scoops me up in his arms, and a second later he beats his wings that have materialized again.
We jerk up and down, up and down, up and down, as Harpoc’s wings beat to get air under us. And then we’re rising through and above the canopy, the three—yes, count them, three—three-quarter moons illuminating the plethora of fluffy clouds that drift across the night sky. The stars are just starting to wink into sight.
I’m reminded how awe filled Harpoc’s voice as he told me about getting away from everything and everyone during a new moon, going out where city lights don’t dim the night sky, and seeing all the stars. In this moment, I promise myself that no matter what happens once we reach his home, we’ll experience the stars that way, together.
“You’re rather quiet.” Harpoc nuzzles the top of my head.
“I’m just enjoying being here with you.”
He gives me a squeeze, and we continue on in silence, passing over enormous as well as small islands. In the moonlight, it’s hard to make out their features, but I can tell some are mountainous without much vegetation, others are jungle-like, others flat like pancakes. Some have a host of candle-lit dots—villages, Harpoc says—others, large metropolitan cities the lights from which, make it seem like day.
The sound of rushing water rises to meet us, and I furrow my brow.
“I’ll have to take you to see the infinity waterfalls. They plunge over the edge of the island and somehow the water ends up back at the top of the mountains to do it all over again.”
My mouth drops open.
“Don’t swallow a bug,” Harpoc says, chuckling.
“Eaten a few bugs, yourself, I take it?” I smile.
“We’re nearly there.” He bobs his head at a spray of light flooding the night sky over the horizon. “The city of Mense, the capital.”
But Harpoc’s arms tense along with his jaw as shouts, screams, metal striking metal, and other discordant sounds reach us from the city.
He beats his wings faster, accelerating our pace until I feel the need to grab hold of his neck. But his eyes never deviate, scanning, searching, no doubt for the source.
Chapter Two
In no time, we’re soaring over one- and two-story homes at the outskirts of the city; Harpoc’s unwavering intensity fills me with fear.
Shadowy dark fills the narrow, barely illuminated, and empty streets below and only enhances my anxiety.
Harpoc’s a god, and the chief big shot here, and he’s worried.
Gold eye, silver eye.
I bite my lip, still clinging to his neck, staying quiet to let him focus.
“I won’t let anything happen to you.” He’s said it before, but determination fills his tone, and I’m not sure if I should be relieved or more worried.
The terrain looks like the city is built upon a rumpled blanket, mounded here and flat there, and we’re quickly approaching the tallest lump in the covers. A curved wall crowns it, surrounding what might be a castle. It seems to be the epicenter of the conflict because the shouting, clanking metal, and other sounds grow louder the closer we fly.
A roar thunders from ahead, but I miss what makes it.
I crane my neck trying to hold on to Harpoc. A host of… . I squint, then look again with wide eyes.
Damn, there’s a bunch of sphinxes flying in black battle gear, claws bared, attacking something on the ground, and we’re heading… straight into the mix.
My breathing quickens. Funny how my inner minion is suddenly silent. Coward.
No wonder Harpoc has no doubt sphinxes are real. He said Lady had parted with a pair of her offspring in exchange for hiding her secret, but in my wildest imaginations I never expect… this.
I inhale sharply when a loud squawk, like a gigantic eagle, sounds to our right. Giant birds, no that’s not right, while they have wings, talons, and beaks, and many of their heads are white feathered, their back ends look like—you’ve got to be kidding me—a lion’s back legs, paws, and a tufted tail.
What is it with animal crossovers and lions? I’ve never thought about it before, but did nature lose all imagination? That aside, I know my mythology, and I know they’re gryphon, and both they and their riders are suited up in black armor.
Despite Harpoc’s warning about bugs, my jaw drops as we fly past.
A second later, another warrior dives with his mount, claws extended, right beside us. I barely have time to see the gryphon snatch a very large and very white, squirming furry something up, then decapitate it with a chomp of its sharp, hooked beak. Blood sprays, and I’m glad I don’t see the rest.
I squint as we zoom past. There’s hundreds of those white furry things below. They’re everywhere.
I only barely stifle a shriek as I make out… no, no way. Have we flown through some wardrobe into Narnia? Is that Reepicheep, the giant mouse’s relatives fighting with swords below? Because everywhere I look, there’s not-at-all-small rodents battling with swords against Harpoc’s forces.
I feel like I’ve fallen asleep and woken in a fairytale. It’s all too unbelievable.
“Warriors of Arimanius,” Harpoc says, like that explains everything.
Way back in the recesses of my brain, a memory wriggles back to life because I remember learning about some ancient Greek god dude named Arimanius. Depicted as a naked human male with a snake wrapped around his body, the head of a lion, and wings, he favored rats because they’re attracted to places with ample food; a group of rats would only flock to areas with nibbles to spare. He made them a symbol of bounty, signifying joy and plenty.
“Plenty” seems the operative word because these things are huge.
“You’re telling me these things…?”
“Yes.” Harpoc’s tone is flat as he soars up the face of the mountain, over the turreted wall, and circles toward the back of what I can now plainly see is a squat palace with a flat roof.
I glance around only briefly and, by the light of the three moons, notice that the skies are filled with a multitude of those amazing sphinxes and
gryphons, as well as more winged beings like Harpoc, suited up in black leathers. They’re all intent on defending this castle.
But then Harpoc’s diving for the roof and setting us down in a garden, awash in the scent of jasmine.
I gasp when I spot Grumpy, my old black beater car, parked off to the right. “How?”
“I told you, I sent your things on ahead.” He winks.
“Yes, but….”
Harpoc pauses only briefly as I step from his arms. “You understand that I need to get back, but let me at least get you settled.”
He takes my hand in his and, despite the dire situation, pauses to run his other hand along my jaw. “Welcome to the Empire of Secrets. I hope you like it.”
My stomach quivers, and my inner voice groans but otherwise stays quiet.
The noise of battle chases us to a sleek and modern-looking set of hulking black pivot doors, inlaid with a rose emblem. Harpoc acts the gentleman once more and opens one for me.
“They’re new.” I’m confused by the contrast between the ancient exterior and these doors and furrow my brow.
“I renovated a while back. I kept the exterior as it was but redid everything inside. I believe they call it historic preservation back on Earth.”
I can only shake my head as I follow him inside. He wasn’t kidding that he redid everything because it’s all contemporary in style.
“You’re just full of surprises.”
A grin is his only reply as, still hand in hand, we head down a hallway, gray and black marble all around—floors, walls, and ceiling—polished to a shine. The rose emblem seems to be a theme because blossoms carved into the marble appear every now and again, connected by an artful depiction of climbing vines, making it feel as if we’re in the midst of a giant rose bush.
I’m glad he dressed me properly before we came because every one of the beings we approach—maids and stewards, judging by their black livery as well as the burdens they carry, and a variety of beings occupying roles I can’t determine by looking at them—pause from their hurrying and bow deeply as we approach, then utter a single word, an honorific, I presume.