by JA Wren
She squinted at him, taking in his handsome features she’d missed while stuck in the darkness. “Why’s your hair so short?”
He frowned, brows curling into each other. “Rayna?”
She shook her head, confusion making her brain foggy, like wading through a thick swamp. “Sorry. That was a stupid question. Your hair’s always like that. At least except—”
Except while in her dream.
Vision.
Memory?
How could she remember something from someone else’s past? The redhead wasn’t her. They simply looked alike. Doppelgangers. That was why Ash got them confused in the beginning. Why he’d acted so weird when they’d first woken up in bed together.
He’d mistaken Rayna for the redhead—his soulmate.
But they weren’t the same person. The redhead had died. Bled out right there on the stone floor. And no matter how much it felt like a memory—like she’d experienced that excruciating death herself—it hadn’t been her.
Right?
“It’s coming back to her,” Kally said from nearby, but Rayna was still too fuzzy to make sense of her surroundings. “Give her a few minutes to process.”
“She doesn’t look like she’s processing,” Ash growled. “She looks confused as fuck and trying to find her bearings.”
“Well, either way give her some damn time. She’s been stuck in the stars for too long. Her mind’s fragile.”
The stars? People didn’t live in the stars. They weren’t making any sense.
Ash sighed, a deep, heavily mournful sound. “It would help if we could explain.”
“No,” Kally said in a hard voice. “Nyx said she needs to remember on her own.”
Rayna held up her hand, silencing both of them. “You mean those…dreams were memories?”
They spoke like Rayna had actually been the redhead Apollo had killed in her vision. Not just that the woman resembled her, but as if they were one in the same.
But how was that possible?
Rayna had been born—albeit not thanks to the woman she’d always thought—but she’d lived an average human life. School. Shitty jobs and homes. Crappy ex-boyfriends. No different from the average straight girl walking the planet.
Kally pressed her lips together and crossed her arms over her chest. Rayna turned to Ash—Asher, she corrected herself, hoping he’d finally part with his secrets. “Please?”
He cupped her cheek. “What did you see?”
“You. And a woman who looked like me.” Her brow crinkled as she pictured the first scene. “Except she was happy. She loved you.” She shook her head and closed her eyes. “I mean, at least I think she did. The way you gazed at each other…it looked like love. It felt like love.”
When she opened her eyes, he was staring at her, hyper focused with so much intensity she squirmed and realized he was still holding her.
“What?” she asked.
“Is that all you saw?”
The threat of fresh tears stung her eyes. She didn’t want to think of the other scene. The horror of watching the woman die and the utter agony of his roar.
“Rayna?”
“No,” she mumbled, blinking away the tears so they fell down her cheeks. “That’s not all I saw.”
“Tell me,” he whispered, somehow putting everything into those two little words. “Please, Rayna.”
She never could deny him—no, that wasn’t her. Had she somehow mingled her thoughts with her doppelganger during the visions? Was that why she was so damn confused? Why she felt like two people trying to live inside one body?
“I saw—I saw him kill her.”
Asher flinched but quickly covered it with a blank mask. “Who?”
“A blonde guy in golden armor,” she said, picturing the guy in her head, still clear as day, unlike most dreams that faded when she woke. “He—he cut her throat. The redhead who looked like me.”
Asher closed his eyes. Hiding his pain from her? She reached up and brushed her fingers over his stubbled cheek. “I’m sorry. You loved her, didn’t you?”
He nodded, keeping his sorrow shut away from her.
“And the man?” she guessed. “He was your father, right? Apollo?”
“Yes.” There was more heartache in that one word than Rayna had ever heard in her entire life.
“And the woman?” She had to know. Had to ask even though she knew it caused him more pain. “She looked exactly like me. Why did he kill her?”
“To punish me.” Asher finally opened his eyes again, moisture swimming around the beautiful brown irises. “Because he knew it would torture me worse than anything he could ever do to me.”
She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and nibbled at it, searching for something to say. “I’m sorry.” It wouldn’t help. Wouldn’t take the pain away, but it was all she had.
He made a rough sound. “I’m the one who should apologize. It’s all my fault. I should have just done what he wanted, but I couldn’t, and I never expected him to go after anyone but me. I thought you were safe, but then he killed you, and I couldn’t do anything to stop him and—”
“Asher!” Kally interrupted, cutting him off, but it was too late.
He killed you.
You.
Not her.
“You—” she stammered. “You think…I’m her?”
His face tightened, lips pressed hard against each other. Holding in his secrets again because Kally had stopped him.
Rayna wriggled free of his arms even as he tried to clutch her closer.
“Rayna—”
“I’m done.” She gripped the glowing string tied around her wrist. “Until you’re ready to tell me everything, I’m done.” She pulled and tugged, cursing under her breath as the string glowed brighter. She was more desperate than ever to get it free, but she was still clueless. “Or at least tell me how to get this fucking thing off.”
Neither of them jumped to help, but she needed space. Air. A few damn minutes without them crowding her. Was that too much to ask?
The thread suddenly went ice cold, freezing a thin band around her wrist. When she snapped at it again, it shattered into a thousand pieces, falling like tiny snowflakes that drifted off on a breeze.
“Shit,” Kally muttered.
Rayna rubbed at her wrist, massaging the skin even though there wasn’t so much as a tiny red mark. She glanced up at Asher, but his expression was masked again, revealing nothing but faint lines at the corners of his lips.
“I just need some time,” she whispered, then turned and walked away, even as her heart demanded she never leave him. Not ever again.
“You fucking idiot,” Kally yelled.
Rayna blotted out the ensuing argument between Kally and Asher, determined to put some distance between them so she could figure out her shit. But with every step, her heart constricted tighter. Every part of her longed to rush back into Asher’s arms.
She ignored her instincts and ran back the way they’d come, past the gazebo and dorm rooms, around the other side of the academy, heading for the stables in the hopes she might find some peace there.
When she reached the entrance with the huge wrought iron lettering, she slowed to a walk, wrapping her arms around her middle because she was suddenly colder than a block of ice.
“Miss Knox,” a familiar voice called to her. Professor Balthazar hurried his steps to pace beside her, clutching a textbook on Omenology. “I’m glad I ran into you, though I’d expect you to be in class right now.”
“I, uh—I was excused.” She searched for a quick lie. “Bathroom break.”
Balthazar chuckled, apparently seeing right through that one. “It’s a lot to take in on your first day, isn’t it?”
God, he didn’t know the half of it.
“Well, do you mind walking with me for a moment?” he asked, gesturing to the tunnel. “The gardens are quite lovely along the perimeter of the labyrinth. I find them very peaceful when I need a moment to myself, and I’d like
to tempt you into joining my extra curriculum classes. Omenology might not be a usual subject for Spirituals, but with your lineage, you might find it useful.”
She nodded, because her brain was so overloaded, she couldn’t think of a plausible reason to say no.
The path into the tunnel was lit by the flickering wall lanterns and reflected off the glittering water of the Gorgon Fountain. She waved to the statues, Dave frowning even as he slowly returned the gesture.
When a howl pierced the air, she realized her mistake.
Twenty-Nine
“Uh, Professor,” Rayna said, her gaze darting around, scanning the beautiful gardens for any sign of the icy wolves that had attacked them in the labyrinth. “Don’t you think we should head back inside?”
But there was nothing.
No sign of the wolves anywhere.
Only lush shrubs, green grass, and towering trees. The colorful blooms were even more stunning in the morning sunlight. Blue skies above, not even a cloud to be seen. And the cobble path before them.
Far from ominous, and yet the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up like she’d been electrocuted.
Balthazar frowned at her. “Whatever for, dear girl?”
Had she imagined that howl? Sprung from her imagination after blacking out and learning Kally had lied to her? “Didn’t you hear that?”
His frown deepened so much she worried his glasses would tumble from his face. “Hear what?”
Rayna opened her mouth to explain, but stopped when a new sound echoed through the garden.
“I must say,” a deep voice came from behind her. Rayna spun even as the disembodied male voice spoke again. “You’re proving a lot harder to kill than I ever expected.”
“Who said that?” Her eyes had gone wide, searching in every direction.
“Miss Knox?” Balthazar patted her shoulder. “Are you feeling quite all right?”
Only dim laughter answered and it was clear Balthazar was oblivious, unable to hear it at all. The leaves rustled with a breeze and she turned, studying every inch of the garden.
“I can’t begrudge your mother for intervening and rescuing you,” the voice said. “This allows me to kill you twice.” He laughed again, low and menacing. The sound vibrated through the gardens and echoed inside Rayna’s chest like the heavy base of techno-pop inside a nightclub. “Oh, imagine the fun. How it would ruin Asher to lose you a second time. Not to mention it has the side benefit of pissing off Nyx. The perfect catalyst for an all-out war to truly begin.”
Balthazar was still frowning as he clutched her arm and steered her around, careful to stay on the cobble path to prevent excruciating death, as Hale had warned. “Perhaps a visit to the infirmary is in order. You’re looking remarkably pale, and I’m concerned for your well-being.”
Yeah, that made two of them, but it was so much worse than the peculiar professor thought.
She didn’t tell Balthazar about the voice and who she thought it might be. He was a Psych professor and she doubted Omenology would stand much of a chance against the god she worried was stalking them.
She allowed him to lead the way along the path, back towards the tunnel, while she focused on an exceptionally bright spot between the shrubs, sure she’d glimpsed a hint of gold.
“Of course, there is the alternative.” The disembodied voice grew more serious, a hint of sanity where it had been crazed amusement before. “You have become quite the coveted weapon since I first tried to tear you from this world.”
Coveted weapon?
What the hell was this guy smoking? Sure, she had her weird quirks, but how did that make her a weapon? Did he plan to scare people with blackened sheets and dead houseplants?
It had scared the shit out of her.
Worse when she’d found Frank—the stray cat who often snuck into her apartment for milk and tuna—curled next to her on her bed. His beautiful, soft gray fur turned black. When she’d reached out to touch him, he’d crumbled to a pile of soot.
She’d cried for a week straight. Devastated. Horrified at what she’d done to the poor fur ball while she slept.
And terrified of what it meant about her.
The flash of gold disappeared, blinking out like it had never been there at all.
“Indecisive much?” Rayna taunted, knowing it was stupid but desperate to know where he was so she could prepare herself for his attack. She didn’t doubt he would. No matter what he said.
“No, no,” Balthazar muttered, thinking she’d spoken to him. “I’m quite sure a trip to the infirmary is necessary.”
The eerie voice laughed, the sound grating along her nerves. “I never used to be. Must be this second chance that’s causing it.”
To the right.
The voice had come from her right.
She twisted, eyes tracking the edge of the gardens, searching for another glint of gold.
There!
Several feet away, a flash of light sparked in the distance. It quickly came flying towards them and Rayna shielded her eyes against the glare.
Professor Balthazar grunted and his arm slipped from her shoulder. When she opened her eyes, he lay mostly on the cobble path, though he slouched across the threshold with his arm spread out beside him on the grass. His glasses had fallen from his face.
Unconscious.
She quickly tugged at his arm sprawled across the grass where a murky haze of white coated his skin and angry red blisters popped out on his hand.
Shit. Was that a hint as to the excruciating death that awaited anyone who stepped off the path and onto the grass? She jerked her head around and caught a tall figure leaning against the wall next to the tunnel.
Casual.
Confident.
Ready to kill her if the mood struck.
Which would probably happen in the next few minutes. She tried to muster up a shred of fear, but none came. Even with the threat of imminent death, with Professor Balthazar lying at her feet, her body couldn’t seem to give a damn. That was kind of concerning.
Almost more so than this asshole’s taunts.
Wind rushed over her back as the figure vanished from the wall, then a voice whispered into her ear, “Would you prefer decisive, little Ker?”
Rayna gasped as large hands wrapped around her waist, squeezing hard enough to crush her ribs. Then tighter still until she was convinced a broken bone had pierced a lung, making it hard to breathe. She clawed at his hands, trying to wrench them from her.
But the panic she expected didn’t come.
Her heart remained steady, beating at a normal pace within her aching chest.
“You know,” the man said, breath ghosting over her neck. “I can almost understand his infatuation with you. Beauty does that to weak men. Easily sways them from their responsibilities.”
His hands shifted, quickly spinning her to face him. His features were unchanged, exactly as they’d been in Rayna’s vision—memories—except his blonde hair was braided back like a Viking warrior. Eyes bluer than the sky above them glared down at her, piercing like he might kill her with nothing but his stare.
“Apollo,” she gasped out, voice shuddery due to her ragged breathing.
He dipped his head, pride beaming on his face like the sunlight glinting off his golden armor. “In the flesh. Much like you, it seems, though I distinctly recall slicing your throat a millennia ago. Back when you were distracting my son from his duty to me.”
She knew he meant Asher. That much was clearer than anything. “His duty?”
“Yes,” he gritted out. “That which he was created for. His purpose in this life, and in every life that comes after. He was meant to be dedicated to me. Loyal and unwavering, like his brothers. But then you just had to go and steal his heart, didn’t you? Meddled where you should not have.”
He leaned closer, until his nose nearly touched hers. “And now you have risen again thanks to that infuriating mother of yours. I can’t have you distracting my son now that his punishment
has ended. Not when I have great need of him.”
He edged back and sighed. “It seems I’ve decided after all. You should be happy, little Ker. A swift death might actually be a mercy this time.”
That name again. She hadn’t missed it earlier when he’d called her a Ker.
She had no clue what it meant, though.
What it made her.
“M—mercy?” she sneered, the word shaky because her lungs couldn’t hold enough oxygen. “How is murdering me a mercy?”
He laughed, flashing brilliant white teeth that almost blinded her. “Time for chit-chat is over.”
Faster than her eyes could track, he drew a sword from some unseen sheath, the blade glowing like it was made of pure sunlight. Rayna lunged back right before it impaled her, gasping as the movement tweaked the bone jabbing into her lung. She stumbled over Balthazar’s prone body, edging back as Apollo grinned and slowly advanced on her.
All while trying to stick to the cobble path.
“Shall I assume you’re not interested in a swift death, then?”
She shook her head, not in answer but trying to tell him she didn’t want to die at all. Where was that option? She retreated to the academy entrance, hating that she was leaving the professor behind, but she’d come back for him.
First, get help.
Apollo’s eyes gleamed. “As you wish. Drawn out death it is.” He spun the sword, all flashy handwork she wanted to roll her eyes at. “I didn’t get to enjoy this enough the first time, anyway.”
He struck, aiming a little too wide to her left and chuckling as she slipped and fell on her butt in her effort to dodge him. He brought the massive sword of light down, narrowly missing cleaving her leg in two.
The glowing blade embedded itself into the cobble and he had to yank to get it free, giving her a few precious moments to scuttle back.
“Come now, little Ker. The least you could do is try.” With an irritated sigh, he sheathed the huge sword and grabbed a pair of shiny blades instead. “There. Now your odds are fractionally better.”
Somehow, she doubted that.
Worse, he’d have to get closer to her to strike with the twin daggers. The one good thing about the monster sword was the longer blade. It allowed her a tiny bit of distance from a man she already loathed.
