One way I feel like I can redeem myself a little is by finding out everything I can in the process. It’s why I’m hanging here by arms that have gone numb from lack of blood flow. The concrete pillar I’m chained to, like a butchered animal, is the only thing keeping me on my feet. Without support, I’d curl up into a crying man-puddle or die, and there’s a good chance of the latter if I keep bleeding like a leaky faucet.

  God, Iza is going to kick my ass so hard when she finds me. I can’t believe I was dumb enough to come looking for an unknown woman who left me a note, simply because she mentioned the word boobs. Where did I go wrong? Have I been in denial of my reality for so long that I’ve become a complete moron? Looking at my recent actions, there’s a good chance that this is true.

  Fucking retrospection, this deep thinking is another side effect of my situation. I hate it. It’s something I’ve always tried to avoid in the past but can’t avoid because that’s all I have to do. It’s preferable to them stabbing me with the screwdriver again.

  Cut off from my Magiks, I can’t heal myself. I’m stuck in this perpetual cycle of physical and emotional pain and the thought of it all ending occasionally makes me cry.

  Iza never cried. I feel so ashamed.

  “Why did you take that one? He’s useless.” The familiar voice makes me perk my ears but keep my eyes closed. I passed out hours ago and then kept pretending to be that way, in the hope they’ve grown bored with me.

  That owner of the slightly nasally voice is Kael, Iza’s uncle. The red dragon who named himself king after, more than likely, murdering his sister. I don’t think he’s the ringleader though. He’s clever but not that smart. He’s a weapon wielded by someone else. Now that my brain is out of the haze of the life I’ve been living I can think with some modicum of sense. I’m not surprised he’s part of the plot against Iza, not at all.

  He’s a coveter that one—greedy bastard.

  “He’s the one we were told to take. If you don’t like it, check with him.” The vampire sasses from somewhere off to my right.

  “Are you sure he didn’t mean a different one, Sharon?” Kael’s voice moves closer as he talks.

  “He specifically said the dumb one that will chase anything he can fuck.” Well, that’s rather demeaning, I’m not dumb, and I don’t chase anything, not typically—this time I was a little harder up than usual.

  Okay, I’ll admit it was dumb to do this.

  “That’s this one. I figured he would ask for one of her guard or that quiet one that’s always at her side, the blonde one.”

  I almost choked out a laugh. Their night would’ve gone much differently had they tried to snatch one of the Nightmares or Phobe. I wouldn’t be hanging here like a side of beef, that’s for sure, and they’d all be getting digested.

  “Why are you here?” Sharon asks suspiciously. I can imagine her face in my mind, I’ve seen it enough in the last day or two I’ve been here. She has beautiful brown eyes the color of whiskey and a perfect cupid’s bow mouth. Her face is as stunning as any I’ve seen in this human world. She is also a frigid bitch, and I feel bad for anyone who sticks their dick in her, freezer burn city.

  She’s also strangely proud of her little-pointed teeth. I get why Iza makes fun of them for it now. The version of me that is waking up out of the dumb-fog yells, pay attention, dumbass. At least part of my brain is working, pulling me back to the conversation that is probably important. Kael comes so close to me that the smell of his cologne stings the inside of my nose. He smells like he rolled around in it before gargling with it.

  “I admit I was curious why he involved base creatures like you in his grand plan.” A growl echoes in the room. “I suggest you control your puppy or I’ll roast him.” It’s said so flippantly that for a moment I’m reminded of Iza. She’s very assured of her place in the world and the food chain. In some ways, this asshole is too.

  “You’re a shifter too, why should you be any more important?” Sharon says, rather snidely. Brave of her, considering how scary Kael is.

  Kael chuckles, and his stench moves away.

  “You think I’m a blood-muddled shifter?” He chuckles again, and with that chuckle, I hear the growl of the dragon that he is. “Don’t fuck up. He’ll kill us all.” His departure is rather sudden, the slamming of a door is the herald of his departure. Which also makes me wonder what the purpose of his trip here was.

  Unless he’s not sure of what’s going on completely either. This little trip was enlightening to me though. Kael isn’t in charge—honestly, he is the one I had pegged for the mess with Magiks that made a bunch of people in the Sidhe sick, but it’s not him. I think the most important question of all is, who is the puppet master that has Kael so afraid?

  The sudden pain in my midsection, brought on by the fist that took the breath out of me, is a very solid reminder of the situation I’m in. One of my folly, one that maybe I can do one good thing with.

  Find out who the bad guy is.

  Once I can breathe normally again I raise my, now open, eyes to look up into the face of the shifter who’s standing in front of me with a shitty grin on his face. Two gold teeth dully glint in the swinging light above us. He reminds me of one of those wrestlers on TV that wear the neon underwear and body oil, lots of it. If Iza were here, she’d be making fun of his tight pants and chicken legs. I can hear her now… this thought makes me laugh.

  “What’s so funny, loser boy?” The intended insult, which widely misses the mark, makes me laugh harder. I’m probably a hundred years older than this idiot. Unfortunately, I’m not a fighter, and after this, I’m probably not going to be a lover anymore either.

  “I was thinking about how Iza would make fun of your itty-bitty legs. Knowing her, she’d probably rip them off and then she’d laugh while she beat the vampy bitch to death with them.” Laughing, I choke up blood, which I spit right on his shoe. In my mind, I can see her whacking him with his severed leg while chastising him for wearing his pants so tight.

  The punch is solid enough to roll my head back on my shoulders and bouncing it off the concrete behind me, filling my vision with black and my mouth with blood, and quite possibly a tooth. Still, I keep laughing, because if Iza can stand what was done to her, the years of torture, then I can take a few fists to my face.

  “Aren’t you a surprise, imp. I expected you to be begging for your worthless life at this point.” The new voice sucks the laughter right out of me. I know a schoth accent when I hear one. Blinking to clear my vision I center my fractured gaze on the tall, golden man standing beside of the shifter. The unique markings on his bare arms and hands signify who is he immediately. The sinking feeling in my stomach sucks what little energy I had left out of me.

  He’s the Guide, Iza’s Light counterpart, and by looking at him, I know he’s as powerful as she is. This is a problem which I had no idea that he even existed, there were rumors, but the Guide stays with the king, and I’ve never laid eyes on any royals. At this very moment, I’m so glad that Iza and I read through the old tomes, we know the tattoos and representations of her counterpart. His golden eyes sharpen, and the calculation in them is enough to make my already wobbly knees give out and leave me to hang by my already strained arms.

  Is this the boss?

  “Has he told you anything useful?” At his question, Sharon steps forward to join the group looking at me like I’m a bug stuck to their shoe.

  “Are you sure he knows anything useful?”

  “Oh, I bet he does. He knows her and her weaknesses, her secrets… get them out of him before we move onto the next part of the plan.”

  “Who are you to tell us what to do?” The shifter, forever argumentative, asks. He’s not the boss, which is disappointing. As the shifter goes flying across the room, moved by Magikal means, the thick, oily feeling of dread makes me gag.

  Panicking, I rack my brain for a way to not tell them anything. I’d like to say I won’t break under torture, but I know better, and although I don’t know many secrets of Iza’s, I know some of her weaknesses.

  Oh dear, One-God I beg you…

  “Here is your chance, imp. Tell me what you know, and I’ll make things a lot more pleasant for you.” His smile is blatantly false but beautiful. I can’t believe I wanted to be like him once upon a time.

  I decide to play along. “Can I fuck the vampire?” At my question, his smile broadens to one of amusement.

  “You can fuck both of them if you want to.” Days ago, I’d probably have sex with anything offering it, but I don’t think I’d ever be desperate enough to fuck stick legs.

  “You know, I learned recently that women could have more than one orgasm, but I’m not sure that stiff bitch can have one, let alone multiple.” As I speak the amusement drains from his face. “Do you have any palm leaves around? Between them and the human’s blue pills maybe I can make some Magiks happen.”

  “Beat him until he talks.” Dismissing me, he turns away and disappears in a flash of light. Iza would be so annoyed. She has to walk.

  The first blow, even though I expect it, hurts enough to make me yell. I have a goal though. I want them to keep hitting me. If they hit me I can’t talk, if they knock me out, I can’t talk.

  Great plan.

  “I bet you have a little dick, too, I mean all that upper body strength has to be compensation for something.” I taunt. When he hits me this time, I feel something in my face break. I try to smile, but my jaw won’t work right to form it. This doesn’t stop me from running my mouth or attempting to. Something I wouldn’t have dreamed of doing before I met Iza.

  Unfortunately, the words don’t quite sound right. “Eye not… weep it out eh puve me woong?” Even though I sound like my mouth is full of rocks, his face reddens, and I know that he understood what I said just fine, and fire races across my jaw when I try to smile again.

  An audible crack sounds when he hits me again. Yeah, my jaw is destroyed now, possibly even ripped from the socket. The thought of trying to talk makes me feel like puking. Channeling my inner Iza, I force the sound out of my throat, and the pain wrings everything that’s in my stomach, right onto his pretty, blue shoes.

  The smile, a mental one, comforts me as another strike to my face sends me into the darkness of blessed unconsciousness.

  I za

  EVEN THOUGH THERE is no evidence of Rido’s body, because of the gossip hounds, everyone knows his death happened. They hear it word of mouth, I felt it in my soul—I can still feel it inside of me, stinging and burning like a small splinter that I can’t get out. Normally, I’m rather pragmatic about some things in life, one of which is Death. It’s a fact of life, everything and everyone dies, even the supposed gods die, but that logic doesn’t make this situation any easier. Looking around me at the rampant destruction of a place, where a man fought with everything he had to survive, and lost, takes the fire right out of me.

  Rido wasn’t a fighter… he didn’t even kill bugs, and he cried when he stepped on a flower. Rido was a special person, one of those unique creatures that have the gift of seeing everything through the eyes of a child, even at a hundred years old. For someone born into our world, Rido was uncommonly kind and sweet, and now he’s dead, and I feel like it’s my fault. The guilt of his death, and Val’s has my guts wrapped up in knots and the only way to appease it is to find the fuckers that did it.

  The biggest question for me, at this moment, is I can’t seem to wrap my mind around their choice for this kind of violence. Val was sick before—an obvious target and his life was snuffed out like a whisper, but Rido, he didn’t get sick. This is completely random, and he was also physically attacked—with rage. Just seems so strange that they’d target him with such ferocity when I don’t think that was their intention. At least the intention of the one who started this shit. They’re related, it’d be stupid of me to assume they weren’t. Even though I don’t know how many people are involved in this fucking mess, there’s got to be at least two. The bipolar reaction signifies that. But did they mean to do it this way or was this an accident?

  Did Rido see something he wasn’t supposed to see?

  “That is a safe assumption.” The voice timbered to make you want to hear him talk, pulls me out of my thoughts. Looking around, I find that I’ve wandered to the lake. I don’t remember heading here, but it kind of makes sense that I did. Whenever I need to think I come here or the tower room, which makes me think of my Dad.

  “You know, it’s strange my Dad hasn’t popped in. Normally, he’s here the minute he feels I’m super upset about something or simply to visit. I haven’t seen him for days.”

  “I can go look for him if you wish.” I muse over Phobe’s offer. It’s unusual for Dad to be gone so long but it’s not completely unheard of.

  Still, with everything that’s going on, I ask, “Yes, if you don’t mind. I need to head back and get the Sidhe settled down. Ppeople are freaking out.” I look over at him, and he nods, those hypnotic eyes searching my face. I can also feel his dark presence that’s embedded in my thoughts, shift. He’s like a persistent tick, just won’t let go.

  Honestly, I kind of like it, even when I say I don’t.

  In two steps he’s in front of me, his cool lips lightly brush mine, hinting to the heat of his mouth, and then he’s gone in a whoosh of a portal. My mouth spasms like a fish. Well, then. For a moment I smile, but it vanishes as quickly as he did. When he reappears a few minutes later, the last vestiges of humor vanish. The frown on his face and the flare of his eyes makes my chest tighten, and my heart turns into a lump of terror-filled ice.

  “Dad?” The voice that says that single word sounds like the very young child that I once was.

  “He is locked in his realm, someone with more power than either one of us holds him captive.” As he speaks his eyes flare brighter. Phobe doesn’t like the fact that he’s blocked from doing something, not at all. I don’t like the fact that my Dad is trapped like a rat in a cage.

  “Is he okay?”

  “Yes, he sends his love.” Which means he’s telling me to stay the fuck out. “He is working to escape, but it will take time.” Roughly translated, he’s beating the hell out of things until they break. I am my father’s daughter. The corner of Phobe’s mouth twitches, hinting at his amusement with me.

  When I exhale my heart picks up a normal rhythm again. For one awful, absolutely terrifying, the moment I thought something had happened to my Dad. I’m not sure how I’d handle that, not at all.

  “He said for you to stay here, that he is safe and will see you soon.” This is Phobe’s nice way of saying, that there is danger there, but my Dad can handle it.

  I open my mouth to ask more questions, then stop. I have other things I need to deal with here. If my Dad is safe, then I don’t need to worry. Instead, I need to trust their judgment, right? Frowning, I look up at Phobe, my decision already made.

  My common sense lasted a few seconds, that’s gotta be a record. “Take me to him?” It’s a demand as much as a question. I want to see for myself what kind of condition he’s in. Phobe wouldn’t lie to me, but his version of bad off and mine differ, slightly.

  Growling low in his throat, he hooks his finger in a belt loop and pulls me to him. The portal opens up behind me, the force of it blowing my hair into my face. The strands are not happy about the disturbance and hiss at Phobe in protest. With a grunt he lifts me, and the abject cold of the NetherRealm is a shock, one that affects even me, but before I can even shiver we’re out again. Phobe releases me and steps away, and I look around at the home of my Dad.

  It’s dark and rather dull looking. Bare rock makes up the majority of the landscape, and the only light in the sky is a moon that looks like someone painted it black. Talk about setting a tone.

  “She doesn’t listen very well, does she?” I turn at his voice and walk towards him, only to hit an invisible wall. What the fuck?

  “You didn’t expect me to listen, did you? What is this shit, Dad?”

  He puts his hand up against the barrier and smiles at me, and even though his eyes look tired and his face is a bit bloody, the smile is a happy one. I can’t help but smile back and match my hand to his. The shield snaps and crackles under my hand but doesn’t hurt me. The Magiks in it feels weird, familiar but in a bad way.

  “Who is this person that can do this to someone like you?” I muse, out loud.

  “They’re strong enough that I can’t even put a dent in it and Phobe couldn’t break it completely. Although, he did a good bit more damage than I managed to,” he says, sounding more jovial than he is. In fact, he sounds exhausted.

  The frown on my face is so tight it pulls on my scalp, as I say, “It’s the other one isn’t it, Phobe? Your other brother person.” He’s the only one capable of it, a god, just like the One-God aka Life, like… Phobe. Turning to him, I look past the outside, deep into those eyes of his, that flame when I stare at them.

  How did I forget that the man I love is a god?

  “No, I am merely something different than you are. Do not give us a title we do not deserve.” He sounds a bit angry about it, which makes me glad I didn’t make the ‘god’ comment out loud.

  “Iza, you and Phobe need to go. There’s nothing that you can do to help me, right now. I can manage fine down here, and as soon as I get out, I’ll come to find you.” I turn back to him as he speaks hurriedly, then looks behind him at something I can’t see. Frustrated, I punch the shield. He turns back to me and smiles, in that sweet way that only a loving father can smile. “I’ll be fine, dove. Now go take care of your flock.” His eyes flash black, and he grows into the creature that earned him his deserved title in life and vanishes into the mists behind him.

  Before I can comment or argue—or beat myself mindlessly against the shield, I’m pulled against the rocks that make up Phobe’s abs, and we’re sucked into another cold portal. As soon as we’re stationary, and back at the Sidhe, I turn on him prepared to throw a royal tantrum. The look on his face stops me dead in my tracks.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23