Unbound

by Amber Lynn Natusch

  “You know where you must go,” I told her, gesturing to the bright, swirling magic.

  With caution, the soul of the former goddess of the hunt circled it twice, then extended a shadowy appendage to touch it. The second her soul brushed the magical cage, she was sucked inside. The cage sealed itself shut with a pop, and its glow dulled instantly, as though Artemis’ soul had tarnished it somehow.

  But it held against her power.

  My brothers looked on with awe as Casey took hold of it with a delicate touch and pressed it against my mother’s chest. With a few final, whispered words, she arched off the couch, and the spell and soul melded into her flesh and disappeared, as though the void in her chest had swallowed them whole. Her body collapsed back down and went painfully still. Seconds passed like hours as we held our breath and waited for her to move. Just as I moved to shake her, she shot up with a gasp, wild eyes searching the room.

  “All is well, Mother,” I said, catching her by the shoulders to steady her. To calm her. “Your soul has been restored.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head frantically. “No, it hasn’t.”

  Casey frowned as he scanned her body for something the rest of us could not see. “Everything went as planned,” he said, daring a glance at me. “Except for one little hiccup, it was flawless.”

  “What hiccup?” Celia asked, eyes narrowed.

  “There was an issue with the soul I pulled from you, but I took care of it.”

  My words should have relieved her, but it was clear from the set of her jaw that they had not.

  “What did you do?” she asked. The note of heat in her tone was surprising, but in truth, I did not know my mother well. I barely knew her at all. At that moment, she reminded me of my twin.

  “The one I took from you resisted its return, so I used another—Artemis, goddess of the hunt. She is strong and powerful and willing. She should not cause any problems for you and should serve you well.”

  Her head shook again. “No no no no no.” Those words fell from her lips with increasing despair.

  “Celia,” Oz said, brushing past me to capture her face in his hands, “what is it? Why are you freaking out?”

  “Because,” she snapped at him, “this is what she wanted!”

  His head turned slowly to face me. “What who wanted?” he asked, unable to look away.

  “The one I couldn’t stop,” she said. “The soul inside me!”

  A blast of cold shot through the room, and I felt a small reverberation inside my chest, like the purr of a cat. Like the small rumble of laughter building.

  A dark understanding slowly came to realization. “Mother, where did you get that soul—when you turned Dark? Who did it come from?”

  Emerald green eyes bore holes through mine. “Ares provided it. He said it was the only soul worthy of my vessel…”

  The rumble in my chest grew stronger still.

  “And how did Ares come upon a stray soul?” I asked as a numbness washed over me.

  “His son…the one who brought me to the Underworld. The one who brought me back to you…”

  Deimos.

  While the din of curses around me grew louder, I heard a tiny voice call my name. A voice I had heard once before, in my mother’s mind. I stilled at the sound.

  Khara…I will have my revenge, it said, its sweet tenor haunting me as no other soul had before. And you are going to help me…

  “I know why Ares was adamant about using that soul,” I said, silencing the ruckus with those few words. They all stared at me in anticipation of the grim news that, for once, was evident in my expression. “It is Eos—his lost daughter. His favored one. He must have hoped it would bring her back.”

  “But it didn’t,” Casey growled. “And then Hecate and the Light Ones locked it away inside Celia.”

  “Until his other son engineered a way to get it out,” I said. “He had the Light Ones break the spell—controlled their minds, no doubt, to ensure that outcome.”

  Another chorus of swears rang out around me.

  “Eos is the fear god’s ultimate prize—” Pierson said, uncharacteristic fear in his voice.

  “—the thing he wants more than anything else in this world,” Kierson finished for his twin.

  “And you swallowed her whole,” Oz said, anger bleeding into his tone, “just like that asshole wanted.”

  16

  Oz’s words pressed down on me, their truth so insidious, yet evident. Phobos had undoubtedly wanted this end—had gone to great lengths to manipulate my situation to ensure its inevitability. But it seemed he was not the only one. Ares had chosen that soul specifically for my mother—and Deimos had been the one to procure it. The latter could have been unwitting, but the former was most certainly not.

  I had every intention of finding out more, just as soon as I could wrap my mind around what had happened and escape the room full of hostile warriors.

  “You should have let me pass,” my mother admonished. “I was ready to fade. I had accepted my fate.”

  “Perhaps if you had told me—”

  “I tried to tell you,” she said, lunging to grab my shoulders. She shook me lightly, driven by the fear of a mother who could no longer protect her child. “I felt you in my dream one night. I tried as best I could in my addled state to show you what was happening, but you didn’t see.”

  “Why didn’t you tell her when you were awake?” Oz asked. The bite in his tone surprised my mother and me both.

  Celia pinched the bridge of her nose and breathed in deeply. “Because I couldn’t—”

  “But now—”

  “I did not say I didn’t try, Ozereus.” She bit those words out like they pained her, and Oz recoiled a bit from her anger. It seemed he was not familiar with it coming from her, though he was used to it from every other being in that room. “I said I couldn’t.”

  “Meaning Eos would not let you?” I asked, the cool prickle of fear climbing up my spine.

  The faint echo of laughter rang through my mind as my mother shook her head. She was not strong enough…not without the magic…

  I stifled the response perched on the tip of my tongue to avoid the inevitable onslaught of questions—questions I could not answer. Eos had a mission of revenge, which I, in part, shared. But if she thought she could carry it out without my participation, she was sorely mistaken. I was a vessel, but not one to be controlled.

  Not one to be overthrown.

  “Can we address the real fucking issue here?” Casey asked. “Ares put that bitch into your mom for a reason, and I want to know what it was.”

  “Agreed,” Pierson said. “I want to know what his endgame was.”

  “And if this is round two,” Drew added.

  “‘If at first you don’t succeed’ is kind of that asshole’s motto,” Kierson said, his voice teeming with anger. “The entire PC is a testament to that. We were experiments—a way to try to create the perfect warrior. The perfect soldier.”

  “And he thought he had that in Sean,” Drew said. His heavy eyes fell on mine. “Maybe he thought that having your mother imbued with Eos would see to that end.”

  “Maybe that’s why Celia doesn’t remember anything about that time,” Oz said. “Maybe that’s why she didn’t remember you after she had her Light status restored—because the one that had darkened her wings was magically contained inside of her.”

  “Are you saying that Ares was trying to screw his daughter?” Kierson said those words like vomit might follow.

  Oz shook his head. “This was about what he could create with Celia’s DNA combined with Eos’ soul.”

  Kierson relaxed at Oz’s assessment, relief plain in his expression.

  “Perhaps this was his backup plan in case I turned down his previous offer,” I said, turning to Oz. Though he and my brothers knew of Ares’ desire for me to usurp Sean, Kaine and Demeter did not, and I planned to keep it that way. “Perhaps this is the way for him to get his perfect soldier aft
er all.”

  “That would presuppose that he has been working with Phobos all along,” Pierson mused.

  “Which would make sense, really.” Drew’s expression hardened. “Whether Khara agreed to his terms or not, he would get what he wanted. And as Kierson just said, he’s always got a plan or a scheme or a follow-up waiting in the wings.”

  “And if the fear god cannot hurt him, as we cannot, there would be no fallout if Ares betrayed him,” I pointed out.

  “Motherfucker,” Casey growled. “I hate how he always wins in the end.”

  “Except he’s not going to this time because that bitch won’t be staying long—not if I have anything to say about it.” Oz said, as though he could reach inside me and yank her out with his bare hands. And from the way he looked through me, it made me question if that was not indeed his intent.

  “Though your sentiment is appreciated, you can no more extract her than I can.”

  His sharp gaze narrowed. “I’m willing to try if she gets any cute ideas.”

  I like this one… Eos purred.

  “You won’t,” I replied before realizing my mistake. Oz’s brow quirked at me in challenge.

  “Won’t I?”

  “There is no point in arguing about this. We have other matters to worry about at the moment.”

  “Other than the rogue soul currently squatting inside of you?” he countered.

  “The fear god is still the greatest threat.”

  “Maybe…” He stared at me for a moment, his brow furrowed as he worked through something in his mind; something I could neither hear nor see. And when he finally found the answer he silently sought, he stormed toward the foyer without a word.

  “Where are you going?” Drew called after him.

  “Not where I’m going,” he replied, his dark gaze cast toward me, “where we’re going. New girl and I have something to do.”

  I looked at my brothers, Kaine, Demeter, and my mother before heading for the door.

  “Ozereus,” my mother said, voice full of warning.

  “Sorry, Celia. But I don’t do things your way anymore.”

  I joined him by the front door as the others began to follow. “Kaine,” I said over my shoulder, “once my mother is up to it, take her back to the in-between and keep her there until she is fully recovered.”

  “Khara, I don’t need—”

  “You need to be somewhere that Ares, his son, and whoever else might endeavor to use you to get to me can no longer reach you.” I turned to face her and found the warrior I had long heard stories about staring back at me. “For me, you will do this.”

  Anger flared in her deep green eyes, but she remained silent and still, looking on as I walked out the front door with Oz, headed for only he knew where. Before I could ask, he took to the sky, headed for a place I would soon recognize. One where we had history.

  One where we had unfinished business.

  We soared over the strangeness of the Heidelberg Project, then landed in the middle of the vacuum graveyard. Oz stormed toward the side of the spotted house and pulled a dagger from his hand.

  “That wing-footed fucker better not start with me,” he said as he sliced his palm. “I’m in no mood for his creepy shit.”

  “What do you want him to do, exactly?” I walked to his side just as he scrawled the messenger god’s name in blood on the side of the house.

  “Well, I don’t imagine Ares is going to conveniently pop up, given your last meeting with him, and I sure as fuck have some questions for him, so I figured I’d recruit Hermes to send him a little message.”

  “And what message will you send, I wonder?” I stepped in front of him. The full moon above bathed his features in its pale light, making him look every bit the deadly angel he was.

  “One that tells him that you’re ready to do what he asked—that you’re willing to get rid of Sean so that you can lead the PC.”

  “And you think he will believe this?”

  Oz smiled most wickedly in response. “I think he will when you offer Sean’s willingness to let me die instead of using his precious Healer to save me as a motive. Especially since he claimed it was only because I'm not PC, but we know he’s bent the rules to save others before. If you speak of injustice and karma—things that remind him of Eos—I think he’ll be more than happy to meet.”

  “And what will you do when he comes?” I asked, leaning in closer. “You know I cannot let you harm him, though the desire to do so myself is strong.”

  “I’ll think of something,” he replied as his head dipped lower. “I can be exceptionally creative when motivated.” His eyes darted through the window of the spotted house, where the bathroom could be seen inside. “Especially if I’ve had a lot of time to think.”

  I let my eyes follow his, then snapped my attention back to his face. “Hermes will only interrupt us if we begin now,” I said, pressing my chest against him, “and I do not enjoy it when he watches. His eyes are too hungry—too keen. His instability shows through and reminds me of the monster I saw the night we found him in this neighborhood, poised above a dead girl’s body. There is nothing sexy about that.”

  Oz exhaled hard, his frustration plain. “We are going to finish what we started in that bathroom one day, if it’s the last thing I do.”

  I smiled at his sentiment. “Then I shall be sure to make it worth your while in the unlikely event that it is…”

  A low growl escaped him, and his hands clamped around my arms. “Not helping, new girl.”

  I brushed my lips along his jaw. “Helping was never my intention.”

  A gust of wind caused my hair to dance around our faces as Hermes landed a safe distance away. I pulled away from Oz to see the messenger god better, and Oz’s wings spread wide behind me.

  “Don’t let me stop you,” he said, smiling wickedly. “I enjoyed what I saw last time. I look forward to seeing how it ends.”

  “It ends with your head on a fucking pike if you keep grinning like that,” Oz snarled. Hermes’ smile fell. “Better. Now, new girl here needs you to send her daddy a message.”

  Hermes’ brow furrowed in confusion. “Has Hades’ princess done something to get herself kicked out? But she was just there…” he said, his crazed eyes lit with delight.

  “Not Hades,” I corrected. “Ares. My birth father.”

  Hermes looked at me, his expression awash with disappointment, and sighed. “What is your message?”

  “Tell him that I have changed my mind—that I have reconsidered his offer and I now accept.”

  “An offer…from Ares? How intriguing. I wonder what it could be...”

  “And you will continue to wonder unless he sees fit to tell you, which I cannot imagine he will. Surely the god of war sees you as inferior—as little more than an errand boy required to do his bidding.”

  Rage flared in Hermes’ eyes at my slight, just as I had intended. Anger would keep him from conspiring with Ares. Anger would keep him from meddling, as I knew he loved to.

  “If he happens to ask why I have had a change of heart, tell him that the one he wishes for me to deal with nearly took something from me—something very important—and his hypocrisy in the matter cannot be forgiven. That karma will be done.”

  The messenger god perked up a bit. “I will search for him now and deliver this message,” he replied. “I will return with his response.”

  “Tell him she wants to meet with him,” Oz added. “He’ll know where.”

  Hermes nodded, then lifted into the air. But he hovered over the vacuum graveyard, hesitating. “Because you spared me from the same fate as the others, I will tell you this: Ares is never to be trusted.”

  “I am aware,” I replied.

  “For your sake, I hope you are.”

  Without another word, he zipped up into the clouds and disappeared, leaving Oz and me alone. His gaze drifted down from the sky and landed on my face. The intensity of his stare was only increased by the eerie blue moonlight highlig
hting his deep brown eyes full of lust and mischief and need.

  He did not have to say a word.

  I brushed past him, heading for the front entrance of the house, the hall that would lead to the bathroom of unfinished business, and the violent sex that would soon play out there. I rounded the porch, smiling at the thought.

  Then a dark voice stopped me cold. “Hello Khara,” Phobos said, grinning down at me with wicked delight. “Or should I say Eos?”

  17

  Everything in my body went cold at the sight of the one who sought to own me. What should have elicited every one of my attack capabilities instead left me frozen as Eos surged inside me, her rage clouding my mind, her desire to react interfering with my own.

  “It’s time to go, my love,” he said as his hand darted for my arm. I looked on, as though my body were no longer mine to control, and waited for his fingers to wrap around my wrist to drag me off to a fate unknown, but most certainly unwelcome. But just before his fingers grazed my flesh, a brutal force slammed into me. It knocked me into the street—and back to my senses.

  My skull cracked against the pavement, and the stars above began to swirl.

  Get up, you fool, a voice growled in my ear, and at first, I wondered if it was Oz. But then I looked back to where I had just been standing and saw the Dark One and the fear god circling one another.

  “Finally had the guts to show your face without your cute little magic tricks, huh?” Oz asked, baiting Phobos as they matched one another step for step.

  “I think I like you,” Phobos replied with that same malicious smile. “Perhaps I’ll put you out of your misery now to spare you the pain of loss you will feel when I take her.”

  “That won’t be happening.”

  The fear god’s smile widened. “It will, but maybe I will incapacitate you first, then fuck her senseless right next to you so that you can see the look of ecstasy on her face before you die.”

  While the two postured, I struggled to my feet. Blood seeped down my forehead into my eyes and I wiped it away, my vision stained red for a fleeting moment—an ominous premonition of what was undoubtedly to come.