by Bailey Dark
I feel moody and tired as the others finish their meals. I listen to the conversations floating through the inn, to the drunk laughter and poor singing. Shoulders hunched; I stare into my goblet of ale. Suddenly, I see the reflection of a man in my drink. I hide my surprise and rise slowly to look at him. The man sways beside our table, draught in hand. His beard is greying and flecked with food. I watch him coldly, head cocked to the side as he grins at Briar. Aiden drums his fingers on the table, chin propped in one hand. My eyes cut towards Briar before flicking back to our visitor. She’s curling in on herself, the way she does when she’s frightened.
“Can I help you with something?” I ask coldly.
The man lifts his goblet in Briar’s direction. “Wonderin’ if yer girl can dance,” he slurs.
“The girl doesn’t dance,” I snap. “Leave us.”
“She looks like she can,” the man retorts. He leers, leaning closer over the table. “’Er titties isn’t bad neither.”
Briar inhales sharply, and I go very still. Time slows for me and I have the sensation of being in very deep water. The man is still leering, practically salivating over Briar. Without thinking, I lift my hand and slap his drink out of his hand. It clatters to the floor, splashing my boots and Willems' with ale. Willem groans, turning wicked blue eyes on the man.
"Look what you've done to my boots," he says coolly. He glances toward me. "Do you think they're ruined?"
“Almost certainly.” I shake my head disappointedly.
“You shouldn’t gone and done that,” the man roars, his eyes growing watery.
I'm on my feet in an instant, the man's shirt bunched in my fist. I pull him in close until I'm breathing his rank breath. His nose is red and dirty; veins burst in it and hairs poking out from his nostrils. His eyes are rimmed with red, veins bulging. I inhale deeply, scenting his death. It won't be long now before his organs fail him. The man sputters in my grip, trying to wrestle my hand off of him but I hold fast.
“See that woman?” I ask, voice rough and angry. He glances towards her and I shake him. “Don’t look at her, look at me. That’s better. If you ever speak to her again, speak of her again, look in her direction, or even think about her, I will know. And I won’t be happy. Would you like to know what I do to people who make me unhappy?”
The man shakes his head, eyes wide and crazed. “No,” he whimpers.
“I flay them alive and pour honey over their innards. And then I place them in the fields, honey dripping all over them, attracting all sorts of insects. How does that sound?” My voice is little more than a murmur, but I put the force of my dark magic behind it.
He pales, shaking in my grip. A cruel smile splits my lips, and I release him. He's too frightened to catch himself, and he topples onto the dirty floor. The inn is quiet, jovial music gone. I rub my hands together and turn towards the villagers as the man scrambles backward. They stare at us in oppressive silence, their eyes filled with quiet anger. I cock a brow, almost hoping they charge. I could use a good fight.
“So much for going unnoticed,” Aiden mutters, pushing his plate away.
“Go upstairs, Briar,” I say over my shoulder without taking my eyes off the villagers. I toss her a key and I hear her chair scrape over the floor.
“Kane,” she starts, sounding nervous.
“It’s for your own good.” I send a shadow from the corner to push her towards the stairs.
The only sound in the room is of her quick retreat. When I hear a door slam overhead, I open the soulbond to sense her. She's in the room, sitting, and breathing quickly. Briar considers if attackers can get through the locked door. I smile. She's safe.
“Gentlemen,” Willem purrs as he and Aiden rise. “Surely this isn’t necessary.”
“I got this one.” Aiden pats my shoulder. “God of strife and all that.”
“Minor,” I remind him, frowning. “And I was looking forward to a bit of fun.”
“Attention, remember?” He taps his nose. “As much as I love it when you lose control of that temper of yours, it’s for the best.”
Willem and I fall back as the room erupts in chaos. Chairs are thrown to the side, and villagers surge around the tables towards us. Feet stampede, the building practically shaking with the force of it. The anger in the air is palpable. I only wish it were fear. But the villagers are brazen, and they outnumber us ten to one. They have no fear. I cross my arms over my chest when Aiden lifts his arms. Suddenly, the charge stops. The villagers falter, glancing between one another with confusion. The very air changes. What was once filled with anger now feels empty. The air around Aiden shimmers as he drinks in the strife and anger and conflict that once energized the room.
Slowly, the villagers stumble away, picking up fallen furniture as they go. They won’t remember the way the air glowed around Aiden, or even that they wanted to fight us at all in the morning. Aiden took it all, and he’s stronger for it. He rolls his neck and shoulders as he drops his arms. “It’s been a while,” he says, grinning. “Usually I’m giving strife, not taking it.”
“That was quick,” I muse. “You’re getting better.”
Aiden’s chest puffs out slightly. “Thanks.”
When we were young, before I was taken away to become Death, Aiden and I used to practice our skills together. He was sloppy and never quite got the hang of it. Even in the few times I’ve seen him since, I never witnessed his powers. Clapping him on the back once, I take the stairs two at a time to my room. I pause outside Briar’s door, listening to her heartbeat. She’s pacing. I rap on her door lightly and hear her stop beside the door.
“It’s over,” I say, pressing a hand to the wood. “We’re fine. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” Her voice is muffled through the door.
I slip into my room and toss my cloak and boots into the corner. Night, I’m tired. I pause beside the wall, listening to Briar’s bed creak as she climbs in. I wait for her breathing to slow before slipping into my own bed. The bed is comfortable and clean, and I close my eyes. I can’t remember the last time I slept, but tonight it proves surprisingly easy.
Chapter 6
Briar
The grandfather clock at the end of the long hall ticks loudly; the merciless, endless rhythm echoing in my ears. I switch my dagger to my left hand to wipe the sweaty palm of my right hand on my pant leg. Fingers trembling, I take my dagger in my dominant hand again and swallow hard. I stare at the dark wood door in front of me, eyes impossibly wide and refusing to blink. I feel as if I've been frozen for hours, but I know it's only been a few minutes since I slipped out of my room.
Kane is behind this door. I pray to the Three, excluding Desona and Kane – so I suppose only to One – that he’s sleeping. My throat is dry, and no matter how much I force myself to swallow, it’s still scratchy with nerves. I know I have to be quick. Dawn will be here in an hour, maybe two. And after that, Kane and the others will be up and preparing to hunt the Nephilim. I have to be far away from this little village by the time Aiden and Willem wake up. Even then, I know that they’ll catch me no matter how far I run. When my father made me promise to kill Kane, he sentenced me to death.
But there’s a chance, a quiet voice in my mind whispers. The mortal realm is the best possible place to assassinate him. Here, I can flee directly to my home. I don’t have to run through the dangerous Underworld to find a working portal first. And if I can make it to Ryrn, I can be under my father’s protection. Surely, Aiden and Willem couldn’t defeat an army on their own. I bite my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as I consider the possibilities. If I don’t do it here, will I ever?
I once wished I could have been taught to be brave the same way I was taught to defend myself. They should have taught me how to be a murderer too. My palm is slick with sweat again, but I tighten my grip on the dagger. It has to be now, I think, trying to be fierce. I promised my father I would do as he asked. I promised that he could have his revenge against Death, and maybe we could get
my mother back. My eyes flutter when I think of her, pale and sick in her bed. For the last year of her life, she hardly moved from it – that's how ill she was. And Kane didn't come, not when we needed him – no matter how many times my father begged for Death to have mercy.
No one should have to suffer like that – not anymore. I nod to myself, pretending I believe my own lies. My father will want to know why I haven't done it yet. If he were here, standing over my shoulder, he would be egging me on. He would demand to know why I let my heart pound when Kane looks at me or why I feel moonstruck when he touches me. I don't know how I would tell him of my doubts. What will happen once Death is gone – will anyone die anymore? And isn't Kane just as deserving of mercy? My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. I'm a fool. I take a hesitant step towards Kane's door, picturing what will happen next. I'll use the dagger to sidle the lock open first. I can hardly breathe as I lift the dagger to the door.
“What are you doing?”
I swallow a scream, heart thudding with fear, and whirl on Aiden. Dagger in hand extended towards him, I know how it must look. His eyes are dark and suspicious. They settle on my dagger and grow so cold I'm sure he must able to freeze steel. "It isn't what you think," I squeak desperately. Gods, I'm a fool.
A dead fool.
“Really?” He steps menacingly towards me. “Because it looks like you’re about to break into Kane’s room with a dagger in hand while he sleeps. And that looks like you have something more than a midnight tryst in mind.”
"I couldn't sleep," I say softly, trying to force a pathetic whine to my voice. "So, I took a walk, and I brought my blade for protection."
Aiden moves too quickly for my mortal eyes to catch. The dagger is in his hand before I can even blink. He hoists it up into the light, inspecting it from every angle as I stand frozen in fear before him. “This is a good blade. Fine craftsmanship, evenly balanced. Do I detect an enchantment?”
“No,” I stammer.
He lifts it to his nose and sniffs before scowling at me. “Mortal liar,” he says viciously. “A spell of rot? To prevent him from healing fast enough to escape death.”
"That's not – I mean I don't know." The words come tumbling from my lips as I grasp for any way out of an assured and painful death. But Aiden isn't buying it.
“It’s finely done too,” he muses, ignoring me. “Perhaps done by a Royal Mage? At your father’s request? I’m sure a respected mage wouldn’t be too keen to listen to a request from a little girl.”
I clamp my lips shut. Nothing I say now will convince him. Silently, I make my peace with Axiol, the Goddess of Mercy and Judgment. I wonder what Kane will do with my soul once his Reapers collect it. Will he tuck me away in a dark pit? Or perhaps he would enjoy torturing me forever personally. I close my eyes then, feeling a flash of something like gratitude that I might be able to see him in the next life.
“Night, you truly were going to kill him,” Aiden says. His voice suddenly sounds gleeful. I peek at him uneasily, opening one eye. He grins down at me, fingering the blade with delight. “How dramatic. But why?”
“I wasn’t going to kill Kane,” I say stubbornly. “I was on a walk.”
Suddenly, Aiden lashes out at me. He wraps his hand around my throat and bares his perfectly white teeth at me like a wolf. My stomach flips with fear and adrenaline shoots through me. I start to lift my foot to bring it down on the fragile bones of his foot, but my body freezes. My muscles are stiff, heavy, and no matter how much I try, I can’t move in his grip. Aiden’s frightening visage slips into a smile. I wonder if I’m going to die.
“That’s better,” he purrs. All I can do is blink. “Now, I’m assuming you don’t want to die. Imagine an eternity of torture at the hands of someone like Willem.”
My body shudders with fear despite Aiden’s powers. I haven’t forgotten how easily he tossed me across the room, or how quick he was to dominate me.
"Keep that in mind, while you listen to my proposition. I'm going to release you now, don't scream, understand? Or I tell Kane and Willem everything I know," Aiden warns as his grip around my neck relaxes.
Slowly, feeling returns to my limbs. Aiden releases me, and I collapse to the dirty floor. I scramble back against the wall, breathing hard. My eyes are wide and locked on the minor God. He crouches in front of me, forearms propped on his knees. My dagger dangles lazily in his hand – I’m no threat to him. And he knows it. I swallow hard.
“I won’t tell anyone about this little murderous blunder of yours, how does that sound?” Aiden asks brightly.
“What do you want?” My voice is nothing more than a whisper.
"Smart girl." He pats my head and I flinch. My reaction doesn't bother him. "I won't tell anyone if you promise to do everything I say. Everything."
My heart falters and my mind swirls with images of painful, unwanted things Aiden could demand from me. Without thinking, I shake my head fervently. “Not everything.”
“Everything,” he growls, pointing at me with the dagger. “Or Kane finds out.”
“But why?” I ask. I can’t help the tremble of fear lilting my voice even though I wish I sounded fearless. “What could I possibly do for you?”
“Oh, I don’t know yet. That’s part of the fun.” Aiden smiles. “You’ll be like my little pet. I’ll treat you well of course. It will be our secret.”
I run my tongue over my lips nervously, and Aiden's eyes track the movement, but he merely grins. I consider his offer. If I don't accept, Kane will know that I was planning on betraying him for years. He'll be hurt. He'll be furious. He'll hate me. "Alright," I whisper, regret sweeping through me like a flood the instant the word leaves my lips.
“Excellent,” Aiden says softly. He rises and extends a hand towards me. “Come on.”
My gut twists as I take his hand and push myself to my feet. I brush my hair behind my ear, wishing I could hide it beneath a hat and cover my face in dirt and grime. I just want to hide away. "Can I have my dagger back?" I ask quietly as the grandfather clock ticks on.
“I don’t think so, Pet.” He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want you coming after me in my sleep, now would I?”
I don’t bother arguing and try to sidle around him. “Goodnight.”
Aiden tuts and grabs my elbow, stopping me in my tracks. “Spin around.”
“Spin?” My brows furrow in confusion.
“Yes, spin,” Aiden says again, more demandingly this time. “Or I wake a very grumpy Death.”
I feel sick as I realize this too is a product of my agreement with him. I have no choice. I turn stiffly in a slow circle, teeth clenched. My eyes flit towards Kane's door. A part of me wishes he would wake up and force Aiden to stop humiliating me. But he wouldn't, when he finds out what I've done. And perhaps this is what he would sentence me to in the next life – eternal humiliation from his two-faced brother. I thought Aiden was nice. I thought he seemed grounded for a God. But I was wrong. He's just as pig-headed and cruel as the rest of them. Maybe even worse.
"Very good," Aiden hums, lounging against the wall. "That's all for tonight, though. You may go to sleep now."
I clamp my mouth shut, refusing to thank him even when it’s my first instinct. Aiden narrows his eyes at me, as if he can read my thoughts. He’s quiet though, his eyes boring into me as I cross the hall to my own room. I can feel his gaze on my back, like sewing needles pricking the space between my shoulder blades. Hand on the doorknob, I glance back at him. He hasn’t moved, still leaning against the wall, looking relaxed with his arms folded over his chest. Without hesitating, I close the door on him and lock it swiftly.
I wait beside the door, listening for sounds of movement outside. A few seconds pass until I hear his footsteps recede down the hall to the room he's sharing with Willem. I don't move for another minute or two, waiting to see if he's returning. When I don't hear anything more, I lunge at the rickety dresser. Grunting, I push it towards the door. The dresser scrapes across the floor, scree
ching, but I don't stop or slow to move more quietly. In a few seconds, the door is blocked by heavy furniture. I grab the only other free piece of furniture besides the bed in the room – a small nightstand – and place it on top of the dresser as if that will help.
Once I'm satisfied, I stand in the middle of the room, the door in front of me and window to my back, staring. My chest heaves with adrenaline and fear. Every sense feels ten times more sensitive than before, and I strain to hear more noise from the hall or adjacent rooms. But the night is quiet. I don't move from my position of vigil until the sun breaks across the horizon. Only then do I sink down to the floor and lean against the foot of the bed, wishing I could cry. But I can't seem to.
Chapter 7
Kane
“Aye,” the man says, stroking his ratted beard. “I seen a man like that.”
My brows raise in surprise. The first mortals we spoke to were adamant that they hadn't seen any strangers lately – besides us. But I could smell the fear on them. Apparently, the reports from my Reapers were wrong. Over seventeen mortals in this village alone have disappeared or found soul leeched. Twelve are still missing, and I'm certain they're dead and rotting somewhere. These villagers are terrified, convinced that an evil spirit walks among them or that they've been cursed. They're looking for people to vilify.
“He was bald, but mostly worn a hood. I seen him head towards Hallwart.” The man jerks his head towards the east.
“Hallwart?” Willem asks.
“Aye, it’s the ol’ fort in the forest. ‘S been abandoned fer years – some folks think it’s haunted,” he chuckles.
I turn my gaze on the tree line in the distance. The leaves quiver, whispering in the light breeze. An abandoned fortress that the locals are too frightened to approach – a Nephilim couldn’t ask for better refuge. “Where is this fort?” I ask.