“There’s nothing more to discuss,” Casey said, eyes narrowed. “We think Kaine has him, and if he does, there is little to nothing we can do about it.”
“Perhaps you cannot,” I said, the sound of my chair dragging along the stony floor punctuating my move to leave, “but I can.”
“Whoa, Khara,” Kierson said, diving into my path. “You can’t go there without backup.”
“I can and I will because I must.”
“Do you even know the way?” Drew asked, voice soft and pained. “You can’t save him if you can’t get there.”
“I do not need to know the way, Drew. I just need to hunt down the one who does.”
Without further explanation, I stormed out of the room, rushing past where Aery stood in the hall.
“If you’re talking about Deimos, Khara, I have to tell you…I don’t think that’s a wise idea.”
“Wise or not, he is all I have.” She cringed at the thought, undoubtedly remembering what he had done to her—how he had nearly killed her by locking her away in a cell barely larger than she. I thought of how she had looked when Oz and I had found her, and anger flushed my cheeks. “Aery, hear me when I say this: I have not forgotten what he did to you. He will be punished, by my hands if necessary. But for now, you must tell me where he is, for my father said he was not to return until his brother was found.”
“He is here. Your father called him back to report. But even if you catch him before he leaves again, do you really think he will do what you demand?” She eyed me warily as we stormed through the Underworld. Her hand on my arm drew my attention and she stopped to stare, her bright eyes begging me to see what was so obvious to her: that Deimos would not take me to the in-between to save Oz. Instead, he would do what he had wanted to for so long—claim me as his own.
“He will do as I say, Aery. Just take me to him.”
She hesitated for a moment before doing as I had asked and leading me through the halls to where she knew Deimos to be—in my father’s chambers. For the second time since I had arrived, I burst into a room without an ounce of decorum or regard for those inside.
Hades looked over his shoulder at the intrusion, his scowl lifting to a smile in but a second.
“Khara!” he said, heading toward me. “What are you doing here? It’s not safe!” I paused long enough to allow him an embrace, then made my way to Deimos, who lurked in the shadows, black eyes homed in on me.
“I need to speak to you,” I said. I stopped only inches from him and stared, arms crossed over my chest as Oz so often did in an attempt to intimidate others.
“Then let us speak.”
“Alone…”
“What is this about, Khara?” my father asked, stepping up beside me. “Why aren’t you with your mother?”
“I am sorry for interrupting you, Father, but I must take Deimos from you for a moment. I will return him as soon as possible.”
“Return me?”
“Yes. Once I no longer require your services.”
“You’re ignoring my questions, Khara,” Hades said, frustration in his tone.
“And I am sorry for that, Father, but I must talk to Deimos now. There is no time to waste.”
Hades eyed the two of us with suspicion. “Are you in danger?”
I hesitated. “No more than I was when I left here.” My answer did nothing to assuage his concern. Before he could argue, I walked out of the room, knowing Deimos would follow. “I will return soon, Father. Fear not.”
He muttered under his breath, as my brothers did whenever those words left my mouth, but his quiet discontent was shut off when Deimos closed the door behind him. His gaze fell heavy on me, his looming form menacing, but my anger left no room for fear in that moment. I was too far gone for that.
“Follow me,” I said, heading toward the Great Hall.
“No,” he replied, grabbing me by the shoulder. He whipped me around to face him, searching my countenance for something it did not show. “Not until you tell me what this is about.”
“This,” I said, stepping so close our bodies touched, “is about you taking me to the in-between. Now.”
“Why would I do such a thing?” he asked. His hungry eyes fell upon my lips, and I pressed my face nearer just to unhinge him further.
“Because I know that you covered for your murderous brother—that you let him slay Drew. My brothers are my family—my blood. Letting one of them fall is tantamount to sliding a blade in my back. And though you may enjoy such acts with others, I know you crave something else entirely from me,” I said, voice low and husky. “You owe me an apology, Deimos, for causing pain to those I love. Do as I ask, and I will accept that as penance for what you have done.”
“And if I do not?” he asked, his cruel hand wrapping around my waist to hold me closer still.
“Then our game will continue, and you have told me how you tire of it. How you want to claim me to keep me from your brother, though I fail to see how our union would ensure my safety.”
“I told you that I will deal with my brother—”
“You have done a pathetic job so far,” I hissed, pulling free of his grip. “You owe me for that as well.”
He stood before me, seething at my insubordination. At one time, he would have struck me down for my behavior, but the way he looked at me—the wariness in his eyes—made me wonder if he had come to learn what I was capable of. And if it frightened him.
“Why do you wish to go to Kaine?” he asked, jaw tight with anger.
“I do not, but I must. He has something I want,” I said. “Something I need.”
“And you think he will merely let you walk in and take it?”
“No,” I replied, a twitch pulling at the corner of my mouth, “but I will take it nonetheless.”
“Tell me what it is and I will agree to your terms.”
“You will agree to my terms regardless,” I countered.
“My patience is not infinite where you are concerned, vasilissa mou.”
“Your patience is nonexistent, Deimos, as is mine in this matter. Take me now, or I shall find my way there on my own,” I said, turning to walk away. “Perhaps I will summon Kaine to come take me away. Hopefully your brother will not find me before the Dark One arrives.”
I let my words bait him because he could surely hear the truth in them. I would find the in-between with or without him; to my success or my failure, I did not know. But I would go regardless.
I was nearly in the Great Hall before I heard him coming, the heavy sound of his breathing echoing off the walls. My brothers stood there with Aery, a shared look of concern amongst the five. That concern only grew at the sight of Deimos rapidly approaching.
“Khara!” he yelled.
I stopped and turned to face him. “Have you reconsidered your position?”
“I will do as you ask,” he replied, “if you do something for me in return.”
“No deal,” Casey snarled, stepping to my side.
“I have this, Brother,” I said, placing my arm out to block him—to keep him from making a mistake he could not unmake. “What is it you wish me to do?”
“Come to me when you return,” he said. Aery went stiff at his proximity, and I stepped in front of her.
“Do what I have asked without question, and I will consider it. That is all I will offer.” He scowled as he agreed. “Good. Then let us be gone.”
I gave my brothers a tight nod as I passed, but it was not enough. Kierson had my arm in a flash, pulling me away from Deimos.
“Khara, this is crazy! Kaine isn’t going to let you march into the in-between, grab Oz, and leave!”
“Ozereus?” Deimos said, his tone laced with malice.
“Kaine will let me do as much, or he will die. It is that simple.”
“I do not believe it is,” Deimos said.
In a rare act of solidarity, Kierson agreed. “He’s right, Khara! This is a suicide mission.”
“I will not take you t
here for this.” Deimos’ expression was stone and ice, reinforcing his statement.
“You have already agreed because you fear the alternative. So you will take me there now,” I said before turning to Kierson. “And I will return in one piece. I promise.” The apprehension in his stare was plain. “I will be back soon,” I said, heading toward the Acheron. “We still have much to discuss.”
“I hope he’s worth it,” Casey shouted after me. “I hope he’s as invested in you as you are in him.”
I smiled a wicked smile back at him. “More so, I believe, Brother. I am not without my charms.”
“Let’s go,” Deimos growled in my ear. “I will do this for you, Khara, but know that even if you manage to get him out of there alive, he will no longer come between you and me, do you understand?”
I stood at the edge of the Acheron and looked up at the ominous figure who had tormented me as both a child and adult—the one who had stolen parts of me that could never be returned—and sneered at him in a way that would have made Casey proud.
“We will see about that, Deimos. We will see.”
2
We arrived in the in-between to the dreariness I had come to expect. Everything looked as it had when I had last been there, only this time, there was no army of Dark Ones awaiting my arrival. Instead, the barren land greeted me with no one else in sight.
“This idea is foolish,” Deimos growled in my ear.
“Foolish or not, you will leave me to do what I came to do.”
“I am not—”
“You are leaving,” I said, wheeling around on him. “You will leave because Kaine needs me for reasons still unknown and will not harm me because of this. You being here would suggest a bizarre union—an alliance that would surely arouse suspicion in him and the others, which I do not need. So you will leave, and I will consider your demands when I return.”
His anger flared, and I felt that familiar taste of terror on the back of my tongue. Still, I held my ground and tried to absorb his power to use against him. As if he sensed my plan, he withdrew his hostility and his person, taking a step back.
“If you do not return soon, I will come for you.”
“You will not need to. Perhaps you should channel your anger into finding your brother.”
That same anger flashed in his eyes before he disappeared from sight.
Seconds later, Kaine’s voice echoed toward me.
“Khara…”
I turned to see his approach. “Where is he, Kaine?”
“Have you come to fulfill your promise to me? The one you made in exchange for me keeping your father safe from circling enemies?”
I ignored his question entirely. “Where. Is. He?”
“Who?” he asked, cocking his head. He stopped a few feet away and looked at me with a twinge of amusement in his expression. I wanted to burn it off. I may have been alone in the presence of the leader of the Dark Ones, but I was not afraid. He did not know the lengths I would go to to bring Oz back, but he would learn if he did not give him to me freely. They all would.
“Do not be coy with me, Kaine—I am far from in the mood.”
“Ah, you are looking for Ozereus.”
“Yes.”
“He is not here.”
“I do not believe you,” I said, taking a cautious step closer, careful to stay out of reach. “I believe that he came here, either willingly or by force, and has not left since. I believe that you have not killed him, and will not kill him, because he may be a bargaining chip where I am concerned. And I believe that, if you do not hand him over, you will very much live to regret it.”
He inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring with either anger or irritation—perhaps both.
“I see why he desires you, Khara. Your impudence and utter lack of concern for yourself is strangely endearing, if not a little overplayed.”
“I can assure you, he would argue your point to the death. He finds my insolence tiresome and my lack of concern a plague on his existence. Bring him out,” I said, my eyebrow quirking ever so slightly. “I am certain he will agree.”
“Brazen, too,” he mused, reaching for a loose strand of my hair blowing in the stale breeze. I took a step back. “I think I like you even more—”
“You will like me much less if you do not give me what I want—”
“Why did Deimos bring you here?” he asked, interrupting my threat.
“Because I asked nicely.”
He dropped his hand and stared at me with fire in his eyes. “You should not trust him—”
“I should not trust you,” I countered.
Those eyes went wide with surprise, then rage. “You think the Dark Ones are worse than him?”
“No,” I replied, honey in my tone, “not all of them…”
“Let me make this plain, Khara. I will not relinquish Oz to you because I have no intention of letting you leave. Deimos was a fool to bring you here.”
“Deimos is never a fool,” I replied, taking a step around the black-winged being of nightmares to circle him. Oz’s previous warning about not letting Kaine touch me rang clearly through my mind. “He brought me here to get what he wants. If he thought I was in real danger, he never would have complied. He would have found another way.”
Kaine shook his head as I took another step around his side. “There is no leaving now,” he said, voice low and raspy and full of something I could not name.
I slipped behind him, and he kept his back to me—a sign of dominance. A show of power. Arrogance that would soon get me the answers I sought.
My fingers ran through his dark hair as I pressed my hand to his skull. I prayed that me initiating touch with him was different than the Dark One touching me. “Show me where he is,” I said softly, letting the power of Muses’ magic flow through me into him. “Tell me how to get to Oz…” Instead of fighting, as Persephone had fought Muses’ command, Kaine seemed lulled by my touch, leaning into it. I placed my other hand on his head and arched him back until my lips were at his ear. “Tell me how to free him, Kaine. Give me what I want, and I will let you go.”
“He is in the prison, far below the mountain.”
“Which mountain?” I asked, brushing my nose through his hair. “Point to it for me.”
I looked over his shoulder to see his raised arm indicating the peaked mountain in front of him. There was only one entrance that I could see, and I wondered if it was the only way out as well.
“Is he alive?”
“Barely…”
“Show me what has been done to him,” I whispered, keeping my growing rage from my tone. I shut my eyes to search his mind for the memories of Oz’s torture—and there were many to find. Images of whippings and seared flesh and violently plucked feathers assaulted my mind, but my hold on Kaine never faltered. I wanted to see everything—every horrid moment in detail—so I could turn it into the fuel I would need to wipe out the Dark Ones when the time came. There would be retribution for their actions.
I would see to that.
“Is that everything?” I asked. He nodded in my hands.
Then I ripped them from his head and crushed my knee into his spine. I followed my attack with a devastating kick to each knee, then pushed him to the ground. With him wounded and addled, I capitalized on the moment and took to the air, headed for the mountain. Wings beating hard, I flew through the narrow entrance. Time would not be my friend in this endeavor; I knew I needed to get to Oz as quickly as I could so Kaine could not call upon his army to come after me en masse.
Though I wanted to call out to Oz, I kept his name from escaping so I could maintain the element of surprise should I encounter Dark Ones along the way. He would be heavily guarded, no doubt. As the tunnel narrowed, my wings scraped along the craggy surface. With every beat, pain shot through my appendages, and I used that pain to drive me harder, headed for the one I sought.
I could hear echoes behind me, angry voices in the distance growing louder with every passing second.
My plan to rescue Oz did not have a solid exit strategy. I hoped he would be conscious enough when I found him to help construct one, and quickly.
Light began to radiate ahead of me, beckoning me to it. I could practically feel that Oz was there. The corridor tapered to the point that I dropped to my feet and ran, the sound of my footfalls announcing my arrival. Two large shadows appeared, haloed with warm torchlight. One look at me charging them and they drew their weapons.
“Kaine will not want you harmed,” one said, bracing himself for my attack, “but I will skewer you if you do not yield.”
Anger boiled up from my gut as I increased my speed. The glint of their blades blinded me for a moment as I reached down to harness the rage I felt. It came out in a breath of fire. Flame and molten liquid spewed from me like never before, the Dragon’s firebox still very much a part of my arsenal.
The Dark Ones’ screams lasted only a moment before they were snuffed out entirely.
Choking on smoke and the stench of burnt flesh, I staggered into a cavernous room, its vast space and lofted ceiling home to just one thing: Oz. He was shackled to the wall with an intricate set of chains, straps, and other painful implements. His head hung limp on his neck, his body a bloody mess of lacerations and bruises. He looked half dead, and my desire to cut him free and then bring down the mountain burned so deeply that I could not move. Could think of nothing else but vengeance.
Then I heard the clink of metal, and my mind cleared in an instant.
He raised his head just enough to take me in, his cruel, beautiful face marred with swelling and blood.
“New girl?”
I was at his side in an instant. “Do not speak,” I said, assessing his restraints. They all required keys, which I had undoubtedly just melted when I had scorched his guards—his torturers. Thinking of them gave me an idea, though it was one I was loath to try. Oz was damaged enough; he did not need burns added to his list of injuries. But it was the only way I could see to free him, so I focused my anger yet again and whispered a warning in his ear. “This might hurt a little.”
I thought I heard a soft laugh escape him.
Unmade (Unborn Book 4) Page 2