Chosen Gods

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Chosen Gods Page 8

by G. Bailey


  “The higher gods are your family?” Mads asks finally. Her voice is calm enough, but under the words I can sense her terror at the thought. She hasn’t been acquainted with this world very long, but Peyton told her what he could, and she’s seen what the higher gods are capable of. Hell, she’s experienced it first hand.

  “Yes,” I reply, and the admission is surprisingly painful to make. It’s like admitting that you’re related to a serial killer or something. “You remember the god I killed in that club?” I ask her, and I see Mads nod out of the corner of my eye. Her expression darkens at the thought, no doubt going back to the night her whole life was snatched away from her, all because of my stupidity. Hey, I admonish myself. Don’t go there. Don’t think like that. Pulling my attention back into the present, I continue. “He was my father.”

  Mads’ eyes go wide at that. “You killed your own father?”

  “Yeah,” I say, and for the first time, the reality of that seems to sink in. It all makes sense now: his name on my hand, the feeling of being drawn to that club, the lightning charm… It was like the universe was lining up to make sure that I took him out of the world once and for all. He came for my family, and so I came for him… whether I knew it at the time or not. “But trust me, Mads,” I say, turning to look at her, “he had his bad karma coming.”

  “What did he do?” Mads asks me, pulling away to look at me cautiously. I see a hint of apprehension in her eyes, and I realise that the truth is probably hitting her equally as hard. She was only just getting used to the idea of me being a supernatural being, and now I’m telling her that I’m the offspring of some of the most powerful gods in the entire world. Will this change our relationship? I feel a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I wonder if this is going to make her afraid of me… but it vanishes the moment I meet her eyes again. The concern there isn’t for herself; it’s for me. That’s enough to melt my heart.

  I clear my throat, realising she’s still waiting for a response. “He killed my mother,” I reply, the words sounding surreal coming out of my mouth. “Her name was Maria. He killed my aunts and grandparents, too. All of them died because he thought she was still pregnant with me, and he wanted to get rid of me. If I hadn’t been born four months premature, he would have killed me, too.” I take a shaky breath, the sadness that was overwhelming me when Mads found me threatening to hit me once again. “It was all because of me,” I whisper.

  “No, not because of you,” Mads says, her eyes flashing as she straightens up and fixes her gaze on mine. “Karma, don’t you dare blame yourself.” Seeing that I don’t believe her, she takes hold of my hands and forces me to face her. “You did not make the decision that your father did,” she says, emphasizing each word.

  “I know,” I say, sighing. “But I can’t stop thinking about what if. What if he hadn’t been able to? What if Maria had raised me like she planned? What if none of this had happened? What if-”

  “Stop,” Mads says firmly, and I close my mouth. “Now isn’t the time to get hung up on what ifs,” she tells me. “Your mum is your mum and your dad is your dad. They are your family, no matter who gave you life.”

  “I know that,” I softly admit, and I know she’s right: finding out the truth doesn’t impact my relationship with the parents who brought me up. I’m just sad that Maria, my mother, never got the chance. It’s a hard feeling, a complicated feeling, and I still don’t know what to do with it.

  “And know this,” Mads continues, sounding more sincere than she ever has. “I see you as my sister, Karma. I have for a very long time, and there is nothing I wouldn’t do to save you. That’s why I’m here, in a world I’m not meant to be in, and surrounded by gods that are powerful enough to scare me shiteless. We aren’t related by any blood, but we are meant to be friends. I love you; it’s that simple, and you are the only family I care about.” Her words hang heavily in the air, and even as they make me emotional, I can also feel them powering me up, igniting a fire that has been stoking inside me for a long time.

  “I need to get revenge for my family,” I whisper.

  “And you will, Karma,” Mads says grimly. “I will help you, you know, however I can. I know my human ass isn’t much good in this world,” she adds with a dry chuckle, “but I’ll move heaven and earth if it means we can get these bastards off your back.”

  That makes me smile, and I bump her shoulder with my own. “I dunno, you do have a cute ass,” I say, and we both laugh.

  “Now, tell me everything that happened in the prison,” she says.

  “I don’t even know where to start,” I admit as I lean back. “The gods of justice—”

  “Didn’t you go on a date with one of them?” she asks me, and I’m reminded again of just how much has changed since the last time I saw her. “I set you up with him. Peyton explained to me who he was after you killed your - er, that guy at the club.” She shakes her head and hurries on. “I just remember he was a boss at one of my old jobs in the business centre. Though now I’m not sure why a god of justice was working an office job, now that I think about it.”

  “Right,” I say, nodding. “His name is Seth. Actually, it wouldn’t surprise me to know he has a part-time office job in his spare time, instead of having fun like normal people.” Mads snorts at that, and I can’t help but laugh, too, as well as say a silent prayer that Seth and Killian are okay, wherever they are. “But anyways, he didn’t forget our date. Not in a good feckin’ way either. Seth and Killian got trapped in the prison with me, then there was a test, and I met someone called Storm and Jade. Storm and the twins are here; they escaped to help me,” I say, trying to recap it all.

  “And Jade?” Mads gently asks me, clearly picking up how hard it was to say her name.

  “She died protecting the justice twins for me. She knew how I felt for them, and she was my friend. I can never thank her enough for it,” I admit, and a flash of her face fills my mind for a second.

  “I’m so sorry, Karma,” Mads honestly says. “I’m sure she knows how thankful you are, wherever she is. Much like your mother and family who are gone know how much you love them. I truly believe that the dead never leave us.”

  “I hope that’s true,” I admit and smile at her. “Now, tell me how you are here right now?”

  “Peyton told me everything after you left, and then I went to stay at yours for the night. In the morning, they explained they were coming here to make a plea for you to be released as it was an accident. I came with them, but the higher gods or anyone else never once listened to us. The guards told us we are not allowed to leave,” she explains to me. I grit my teeth, knowing Xur and my twin aunts must have been planning this all. I’m sure they have planned the games out already, and I fell straight into their trap.

  “I’m sure they kept you all here to blackmail me,” I mutter, knowing Mads is waiting for an answer.

  “I’m sorry, I would have made your family stay away if I knew,” she tells me.

  “It wouldn’t have made a difference, Mads. They are higher gods, and nothing and no one is out of their reach,” I explain to her. “They rule this world. And now everything I do, they are interested in.”

  “Except they can’t control you. If they feel they need your family and friend to blackmail you, Karma, they must be scared,” Mads says.

  “They aren’t scared of me. I have half the power they do. It’s Storm they are frightened of,” I explain to her.

  “And who is this Storm?” she asks, wagging her eyebrows.

  “That’s another long story,” I say, and Mads smiles, resting her head back on my shoulder.

  “Good thing we have time then.” I start explaining who Storm is and everything else I can think of to tell Mads.

  This is what best friends are for.

  7

  “We all have rooms down here, and meals are served in this dining room with the higher gods and some of their advisers,” says Mads, making a sweeping gesture around herself at the tow
ering stone walls of the first floor. We’ve come back inside from the beach, and I’m already missing the open air outside, even if the island is a prison in and of itself. Now she’s giving me a bit of an informal tour of the areas of the castle that we have access to as glorified hostages, since I’m really only acquainted with my family’s quarters so far. A large portion of the palace is off-limits to me and Mads, especially the upper chambers, where Xur and his sisters live and meet. They’ve given us a surprising amount of freedom already, though, and it would be a boon not to wander off somewhere without Storm with me and get lost in the bowels of the castle.

  The two of us pause at the entrance to the dining room in question, which has a high, vaulted ceiling complete with the golden gilding that accents all of the palace. The ceiling is painted with murals depicting the higher gods that remind me of the Renaissance frescoes in old Italian villas. One of them, on the far side near the back, seems to have been burned away; staring up at it more closely, I can make out a humanoid form, and realize with a start that it’s an image of Storm, before he had a falling out with his family. Well, I think dryly, they certainly don’t lack for self-glorification around here. From wall to wall stretches an enormous, elegant dining table that would probably be big enough to seat a whole ballroom full of people. The chairs near the end seem to have been segregated, probably for the prisoners, and I can feel my hands balling into fists at the sight. It’s like we’re sheep to them… and the worst part is, we sort of are.

  “It’s always creepy to eat in there, but we don’t have a choice exactly,” Mads explains to me, peering around my shoulder with a sour expression on her face. “Thankfully, most of the guards have their meals in the barracks, and the advisors are always late to dinner. We’ve sort of learnt to eat early and run for it.”

  “The higher gods don’t have a problem with that?” I ask, turning to her.

  She shakes her head. “They’re actually not always around for dinner. I think they’re too busy scheming upstairs to be bothered to come to meals on time - or maybe they just don’t want to deign to eat with the rest of us. Either way, the higher gods have only eaten with us once since we got here.”

  “Damn,” I mutter. “I can’t imagine that went well.”

  Mads gives a contemptive snort. “No, it didn’t. The moment your dad tried to talk about you being freed, they got up and left. I was half expecting them to shoot lightning bolts at us just for asking.”

  “I wouldn’t put it past them,” I tell her, crossing my arms. “But I’m glad to hear they haven’t hurt you.”

  Mads shakes her head. “They haven’t laid a finger on us - probably because they know we make better leverage against you if they just threaten us with violence. Up until that dinner, our only interactions with them were when they came about to ask questions about your nature.”

  “My nature?” I ask, frowning.

  She nods. “They wanted to know if you were like them, I suspect. Not pleasant dinner conversation, at any rate.”

  “I think I’ll skip the meal for today then,” I say as we turn around, leaving the dining room behind us and making our way back down the main hall. “I don’t want to eat with all of their creepy red eyes watching me.” Not that I’m actually hungry after seeing all the past memories my mum shared with me; if I had the choice, I would probably never eat again. My shock has worn off for the time being, but I know for a fact that those images will be seared into my memory for the rest of my life.

  “I will bring food back for you if you want,” Mads offers with a grin, and I smile at her with a brisk nod of my head. I don’t want to worry her.

  Gods, I missed having her around.

  We continue through the winding corridors, passing libraries, ballrooms, conservatories, and what looks like a kind of strategy room on our way. Mads points each one out to me as we go, impressing me with her knowledge of the layout of the castle, in spite of having only been here a short time. Eventually we arrive back outside the living space where Mum and Dad are being held, and I feel a thick lump forming in my throat once more as I remember the memory charm, and the pain on Mum’s face as she showed me visions of the memories that have haunted her for so long. Part of me is afraid to speak to her again in the aftermath of these revelations, while another part is desperate to, desperate for any sort of familiar familiarity. Right now, the feeling of one of her hugs seems like the only thing that will set my head straight.

  “You okay?” Mads asks, putting a hand on my arm and narrowing her eyes in concern. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

  “More than one,” I reply, but when I see the worry on her face, I force myself to smile. “But it’s all right, Mads. Really. I’m just… still a little on edge, I guess. But that’s all.”

  “Okay,” she says, giving my arm a squeeze before letting go. “Well, I’ll leave you here to your folks. There’s a little reading room over there, just around the corner,” she adds, pointing over her shoulder around the bend in the hallway. “I’ve been spending most of my time in there, reading the books they have in the library. There’s not much else to do around here other than go running, and even that gets old after a while. Come find me later, if you want - we have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “Wait,” I say, grabbing hold of her wrist as she turns to go. I suddenly feel embarrassed to ask, but my nerves are getting the better of me. I want someone objective here with me right now, and Mads has always been my rock. “Could you… come with me?” I ask her tentatively. “I’ve never…” I clear my throat. “This is the first time I’ll be seeing them after finding out… You know, everything. Would you…?”

  Mads nods, giving me a reassuring smile. “Of course, Karma. I’ll be right behind you.”

  I give her a quick hug as a thank you before turning around. Her presence behind me is enough to steady me, and I turn the handle of the door to my mum and dad’s room and pushing it open. Mads lingers a reasonable distance behind me as I move forward, and I’m left to pray that this encounter won’t be too painful as I square my shoulders and walk into the foyer.

  The second the door is open, I can hear the sound of Storm laughing loudly, followed by the sound of my brothers laughing along with him. I pause where I’m standing, taken aback; I wasn’t expecting my family to take to him this quickly, but then again, this is Storm we’re talking about; maybe I shouldn’t be surprised to see he’s made friends already. At least I won’t have to worry about my family not approving of my… boyfriend? Crush? Love interest? None of the above? The truth is, I don’t really know what Storm and I even are, but it’s a relief to see that he seems to be getting along with my relatives.

  I walk into the common area to see Storm standing near the kitchenette alongside my brothers. He’s gesturing as if he’s in the middle of telling a story, and Peyton is holding his sides and wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. I’m glad to see that they have a little levity while they’re here, although Mum and Dad are a different story. They are standing on the other side of the room by the window, and Dad is rubbing her back in slow circles. She looks like she’s calmed down a bit, but I can see she must have been crying. Even dad, who I’ve never seen completely break down, looks like he’s struggling to hold himself together as he pulls her close.

  As soon as the door shuts behind me, the whole room goes quiet, and everyone turns to look at me. My brothers’ expressions immediately go serious once more, and Storm takes a hesitant step toward me before stopping himself; he must realize that this is between me and the people who raised me.

  Mum’s eyes meet mine as I freeze on the threshold, and she suddenly looks tentative… afraid. I realise with a start that she’s as nervous as I am for this moment - is she wondering if I’ll accept her now that I know the truth? And suddenly, in an unbidden rush, a sense of catharsis washes over me as I look at her.

  “Mum,” I whisper, because that word means so much more now. I open my arms, and she runs to me, nearly knocking me ove
r in a hug. I embrace her back, trying not to cry because way too many tears have already fallen today. The pain of seeing Maria is still burning in my gut like a fire, but the overwhelming love that I feel for the woman I call my mother is nearly enough to put it out. This is where I belong, I think, squeezing her so tightly that I wonder if I’ll ever let go.

  She buries her face in my tangled red hair, and I feel my scalp dampen with her tears, but when she speaks, her voice is heavy with joy. “I was so worried,” she says. “I thought you would never forgive me. Karma…” She pulls back for a moment to look into my eyes, her hands on my shoulders. “No matter what else changes, you will never stop being my daughter,” she says, and pulls me back against her tightly.

  “No, Mum,” I agree, inhaling the smell of her and feeling the weight of the truth lifting off my shoulders bit by bit, “I never will.”

  Dad walks over and wraps his arms around us both as mum cries onto my shoulder, planting a kiss on the top of my head. For a long moment we just stand there, the three of us, an emotional wreck, but together for the first time since the shite all hit the fan. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to be around them, and one thing is certain in my mind in this moment: I’m never going to be ungrateful for them ever again.

  I eventually pull back and look at them both, feeling tears welling up in my eyes again - except this time, they’re tears of relief and happiness. “Maria was my biological mother,” I tell them slowly, “and I wish I could have had more time with her. I want to know everything about her, as well as Holly, Daniella, and my grandparents.” I take a breath, closing my eyes for a moment before opening them again. “But you guys are my parents. Blood doesn’t change that. You’re my mum, and you’re my dad.”

  “I’ve never been as proud of you as in this moment. I love you, Karma,” dad tells me, and I turn to hug him tightly. Mum kisses the side of my head, and before I realise what’s happening, I’m tackled by a head of red hair. It’s Damien, and the look on his face is almost enough to make me laugh; I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy to see me in my entire life.

 

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