Pain (Curse of the Gods Book 5)

by Jaymin Eve

  Just when I was about to assume that she had traded in her usual brand of soppy-centred crazy for something wildly more psychotic, she dropped to her knees, gathered the petal pieces, and hurried them over to her garden bed, carefully poking each one into the soil and whispering over them until they began to sprout into new plants. One rose death to bear a dozen rose babies.

  “If only gardening were that easy,” I muttered. “We would have had so many potatoes growing.”

  Emmy snorted out a laugh, and the spell was broken. I visibly shook off the after-effects of Pica’s demonstration, allowing Siret’s body to absorb whatever I was shedding.

  “What would you have done with so many potatoes?” Emmy asked, as Cyrus wrapped a large arm around her shoulders. I could tell from the look on his face that he wanted to drag her back to his cave and as far away from Pica as possible. I didn’t blame him.

  “I would have started a potato empire,” I answered, as though my reason should have been obvious. “We could have been rich. People would have come from far and wide to worship the Dweller Potato Queens.”

  “Oh, you’re letting me share the crown.” She laughed. “That’s nice.”

  “Well … you’d naturally have to harvest all the potatoes and stuff … so it’s only fair.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Naturally.”

  “We’re going to prepare,” Cyrus announced, his eyes still on Pica. “I think I can create a temporary pocket inside the garden that will hold until the end of the night. If I create it now, it should be unaffected by Staviti’s manipulations.”

  “Where will it lead to?” Yael asked. “Your hideout?”

  “I have a better idea,” I answered, before the look of distaste on Cyrus’s face could be put into words. “We should have one that goes to a safe place for everyone else, but from there we should try to make our way to the temple in Minatsol, where the dweller bodies are taken to be made into servers. I think we need answers, and it’s probably the least likely place for us to hide out in.”

  “That’s true,” Emmy replied, though there was a frown of indecision on her face. “But … if you need to memorise maps and terrain to make the pockets work, wouldn’t Cyrus need to have been there himself?”

  “Luckily, I have been.” Cyrus was grinning. “When I was inside Willa’s head, causing … innocent trouble.”

  “Don’t remind me.” I scrunched my face up. “I just remembered how much I really kind of hate you.”

  “It’s decided then.” Yael’s voice was final, and a little impatient. He could probably sense the fight that was about to break out, and we really didn’t have time for that, with only rotations left until the party.

  “Stay safe,” I warned Emmy, with a sideways glance at Cyrus.

  “See you soon,” she promised, drawing me into a quick hug before disappearing with Cyrus.

  “You guys go ahead,” I said as Siret released me and the five of them stepped toward the path that would lead us back to our cottage on the other side of the platform. “I’ll meet you there.”

  They didn’t even hesitate, despite how much I knew they would hate to leave me alone with Pica. My guys knew better than to assume I was too weak to look after myself. I wasn’t the smartest dweller-turned-god, but I made up for it in … incredibly dangerous accidents. Really, it didn’t matter if I was the best at protecting myself. It was more that I needed to try. I didn’t want to disappear behind the Abcurses. I wanted to stand level with them, just as strong, just as fierce.

  “We’re not far,” Yael warned as they headed for the path. “Just shout if you need us.” He tapped the side of his head, his expression stern.

  I was sure that the warning had been for Pica, but she was barely paying attention; she was busy stroking her new roses to life. They were growing taller than the rose they had come from, their colour a bright purple, their stalks overgrown with bulbous thorns.

  “Be there soon,” I promised, slowly approaching Pica.

  She drew away from her scary flowers after a moment, probably sensing me loitering behind her.

  “They’re okay,” she told me, sighing happily. “I made them better. Nothing a little love can’t fix.”

  “I might have to disagree, but that’s a whole other discussion,” I admitted.

  “So cynical, my Willy.” She patted my cheek affectionately, and I wondered if there was anything that I could do wrong.

  “Pica … you know I’m going to have to leave if Staviti attacks us?” I wanted to take a few steps backwards, out of “loving” distance, but I fought the urge down and grabbed her hand instead, knowing that I needed to appeal to her on a more familiar level, otherwise her crazy would start to take over.

  “You are safe here,” she replied sternly. As expected, her words were underlined in steel, despite the ever-happy expression painted on her face.

  “If I’m safe wherever you are, then I can stay with you, but if he attacks, it means that he’s decided that not even you will hold him back anymore. Do you think I threaten his existence in some way?”

  “Why do you ask.” It wasn’t even spoken like a question. The smile had finally slipped away, and her words were accompanied by a sniff, her shoulders squaring.

  “The strongest sols on Minatsol threatened his existence in some way, so he set out to destroy them. Rau having a beta would have threatened his existence in some way, and so he forbade it. The god children threatened his existence in some way, and he got rid of those too. And so it stands to reason that I threaten his existence.”

  “So you do,” she replied, pulling her hand from mine and sweeping the bottom of her crimson robe up from the ground, moving back toward her marble house.

  She left the door open, so I followed her inside, finding her in the sitting room where she had perched on the edge of a chaise, her eyes riveted to the window, through which she could see the garden bed that she had just been tending.

  “Which do you think is more important to him,” I pressed gently, sitting beside her. “His existence, or you?”

  Instead of answering my question, she fished something out of her pocket, setting it on my lap. Her expression was downright morose, and her fingers lingered on the tiny piece of folded paper for a click before withdrawing. I unfolded it, frowning at the words scrawled there.

  DJ Snake.

  “What …” I frowned, rereading. “What does this mean?”

  “It’s an old-world name, I presume.” Pica flicked her fingers, as though my question was irrelevant. “Staviti uses old-world books as a base for his random assortment of server names.”

  “Oh.” Realisation dawned on me. “It’s a server. Your server?” I glanced around the room then, as though one would just pop into existence. It hadn’t dawned on me until then, but I had never actually seen any servers other than Donald in Pica’s residence.

  “I keep her hidden because Staviti has a habit of tampering with servers, even when they aren’t his.”

  “Why are you giving me her name?”

  “It’s an escape. In case you need it. In case you run out of options. Shout her name, and she will take you to a safe place. She can only take one person at a time but she will transport as many people as you need.”

  “Thank you, Pica, for understanding.”

  “To love is to understand,” she replied, patting my knee. “If Staviti would attack one of my parties, then nowhere is safe, not even here. Be prepared for anything.”

  Six

  I made my way out of Pica’s residence and through the forest path that led to the other cottage. I was unsurprised to find each of the guys right at the other side of the path. They hadn’t even stepped foot inside the cottage, apparently. Snow was dusting their hair and clinging to their robes.

  “I took care of Pica,” I explained. “There won’t be any repercussions if we’re attacked and have to disappear. I think seeing how I changed Emmy has changed something in her, too. She sees me differently.”

  �
�You represent a hint of something she has lost,” Aros replied as we all turned toward the cottage. “You’re a remnant of the happily-ever-after that she had schemed up with Rau. He was her family, and you were supposed to be a part of that family too—so when he was taken away, only you remained. She has fixated on you for that reason.”

  We reached the main room of the cottage and I noticed Donald sitting by the fireplace, her back straight, her hands on her knees, and her eyes fixed unblinkingly forward.

  “After seeing what you did for Emmy, you became something different in Pica’s eyes,” Coen said, shaking out his robe and moving toward the fireplace.

  I followed him, and we all took up positions around the fire as Donald jumped to her feet and quickly hurried out of the way, positioning herself behind one of the lounges instead. We were supposed to be preparing, but there was an unspoken need among us to settle for a moment, to check in with each other.

  “She’s also not stupid,” Rome warned. “She hasn’t asked any of us for details about Rau’s death. She hasn’t even asked where his body is—”

  “Where is his body?” I cut in, blinking.

  “We locked it in Sienna’s vault,” he replied calmly. “But the point is that she hasn’t asked. She hasn’t mentioned it, which means she probably knows it was you. That puts her in a strange position. On one hand, you dragged the man she loves into the imprisonment realm and killed a portion of his soul. On the other hand, you returned. You brought yourself back … and if you can do that, you might be able to go in again and bring her child back.”

  I frowned, an uneasy feeling settling within me. “So I caused her to lose one great love, but I present a chance to save another, even greater love?”

  A few grumbles of agreement met my question, and I frowned harder, pulling my feet up to the comfortable cushion of the couch and tucking them beneath me. Coen was to my right and he pulled my knees over his lap, settling his big arm over my legs. On my other side, Aros laid a soft woollen blanket over the three of us. Yael was standing by the fireplace, his arm braced against the mantle, his attention on the fire. Rome was nestled into an oversized armchair, his fingers drumming against his thighs, his expression restless and thoughtful. Siret was pacing before us, but wasn’t agitated or anxious. He seemed to just want to stay in motion.

  “What exactly is our aim here?” I found myself asking. “Staviti will never just agree to leave us alone. He won’t stop until we stop him, but how can we destroy the Creator? And if we do, what happens to Minatsol and Topia?”

  “I think we all have different goals,” Yael admitted, turning away from the fire to fix me with green eyes that swirled with the reflection of the simmering flames. “Cyrus wants to destroy Staviti—to end his tyranny on the worlds—but that’s how Cyrus was designed. He’s a being of justice, and he has judged Staviti to have done too many unspeakable acts to be allowed to continue.”

  I nodded, agreeing with his assessment of Cyrus. “And what’s our goal?”

  I caught the smiles that Rome and Siret tried to hide. They liked that I referred to us as a single unit.

  “Our goal is to protect you,” Coen answered quietly, his hand shifting on my leg, pulling me in closer to the warmth of his side. “That has always been our goal.”

  I was troubled, but I wasn’t sure why. I wanted to protect myself and the people I loved, but there was also something more. There was a mystery I needed to solve. The shadowy form of Jakan haunted me, and the insistent prodding of my mother’s thoughts against the barrier that I had constructed in my mind spurred me toward some kind of a decision. I didn’t just want to be safe—I wanted more than that. Wrongs had been committed, and I wanted to put them to rights. Staviti had killed many people in his crusade to be the most powerful man in the worlds, including my mother, my sister, and his own brother, Jakan. He had trapped the souls of countless dwellers, turning their bodies into empty vestibules of service.

  “There’s something I haven’t told you all,” I muttered. “When I pulled the piece of my mother’s soul back to Minatsol, she cried out for Jakan. She didn’t want to leave him. They loved each other. In all my life … I’ve never seen her care about another human being like that—especially none of the men that she slept with.”

  “You think he might be your father,” Siret mused.

  “I just don’t understand how,” I replied. “How did her soul end up in the imprisonment realm? How did they even meet? He said that he had been watching me through the mortal glass, but I haven’t spent that much time on Topia … and he acted as though he knew me. As though he had known me for a long time.”

  “If he had a soul-bond with your mother at some point on Minatsol, that part of her soul would have been dragged to the imprisonment realm with him,” Aros said thoughtfully. “And if she does have a soul-bond with him, then he might have been able to see and hear you through her eyes, for most of your life on Minatsol.”

  “But it only goes one way,” I argued. “The soul-bond. You guys can all read my mind, but I can’t read yours.”

  “It goes both ways, actually,” Yael said. “But the bond is different with us. We think it’s because a piece of you is inside five of us—it changed the nature of the link to flow in one direction.”

  I nodded, my mind whirling around as I tried to fit all the pieces together. Time was running out for us to continue this conversation, but I couldn’t pull myself away. I could feel a realisation teasing me, just out of reach.

  “Donald sometimes has … moments,” I whispered, turning to look at the server standing behind us. “A real thought will shine through and I’ll see a hint of something coherent. Something alive.”

  I stood then, and rounded the chair, pulling her hands into mine. She stared at me blankly.

  “Is the Sacred One hungry?” she asked. “Does the Sacred One require me to do laundry? Do the Sacred Ones need some gods-damned peace and quiet?” That last part had been delivered with an attempt at a gravelly accent. I was sure that she was repeating a request that Cyrus had given her many, many times.

  “I want to know if Jakan can hear me,” I replied, tearing down the barrier between her thoughts and mine.

  “That name is forbidden, Sacred One.” Jakan is a man. Jakan is a god. Jakan is … here.

  I sucked in a sudden breath, my fingers tightening around hers. “What am I, Jakan?”

  “I am not Jakan,” she replied. “I am Donald. Donald the Dumb and Useless Bathroom-Invader of the Godly and Amazing Neutral.”

  You are Creation.

  I flinched away, dropping her hands. Mine were shaking, my palms beginning to sweat. I was too shocked to believe it, but it made sense. I had created a god. I had created all manner of things.

  I had created a war.

  “What is something only Staviti can do, other than creating other gods?” I asked, turning back to the guys.

  They were all staring at me, waiting to hear what Jakan’s answer was.

  “He can shape the worlds,” Coen replied. “He can make this land into anything he likes.”

  “Then I need to show you all something. But first, we need to get to the Garden of Everlasting.” I walked toward the bathing chamber without another word.

  After ten clicks of struggling, I was dressed in the leather outfit, and I moved to stand in front of the glass to admire it. I attempted to pull my hair up into a fancy knot, but only managed to twist it messily atop my head.

  “Five?” I called. “I think I need some help.”

  Siret appeared in the doorway a moment later, dragging his eyes down my outfit. “I think I’m the one that needs help,” he joked. “It’s not fair of you to walk around dressed like that.”

  I grinned at him. “Does your Trickery work on hair?”

  He closed the distance between us, catching a stray curl that fell down beside my cheek. “I refuse. You’re perfect like this.”

  I pressed my lips to his quickly, intending to end the kiss as soon a
s it had started, but his arms circled my waist, crushing me against his chest, and the kiss softened until I was melting into him.

  “You get her all night,” a rough voice cut in from the hallway.

  We broke apart, and Siret planted another soft kiss on my mouth before I walked to the door of the bathroom. Yael was leaning against the outside wall, his arms folded over his chest.

  “Do you want a kiss as well?” I teased him.

  “Ask me for one,” he returned, his eyes narrowing.

  Heat shot through me, reminding me of exactly how demanding he could be.

  “Will you please kiss—” I started, before his mouth cut me off.

  Our positions were switched and my back was to the wall in a fraction of a click, his hands strong either side of my face, his tongue sweeping into my mouth with enough intention to make my breaths short.

  “Whatever you have to show us,” he muttered against my lips, “it changes nothing.”

  There were no sweeter words to hear. That I was unconditionally loved and accepted. I opened my mouth then and Yael slid his tongue across mine. Slowly. Deliberately invading my mouth in a show of dominance. I liked it though, because he never pushed me past the point of complete loss. He allowed me to keep my power, he just had to have more. Something I had long ago accepted about him.

  “I’m thinking the next time we’re together,” he said, pulling back, “I’m going to give you another reason to call me Four.”

  My body clenched with need; my centre ached. Last time he’d given me three orgasms and I’d felt like I wouldn’t survive a fourth. I guess he was going to disprove that theory for me … but not this sun-cycle. There was no time. Yael must have seen the disappointment in my face because he laughed. Out loud and with abandon. For once, there was no cynicism on his face. No competitiveness in his behaviour. It was just pure, unadulterated happiness, and my heart nearly burst at the sight.

  “Ready to go?” he asked, after our moment together.

  I nodded, even though it was kind of a lie. We had to go, but I wasn’t sure any of us were ready for everything that was coming our way. Spinning around, I observed myself one last time in the reflective glass. The leather outfit moulded to my body, but I felt protected. The material was thick and strong, while somehow moving easily with me. It was probably the best thing I’d ever worn.