by Bailey Dark
“No.” Kane shakes his head. “They are out of my reach by then. Just gone.”
Fear slips through me, goosebumps pocking on my skin. Dying is already difficult to comprehend, to accept without fear. Even knowing that there is a realm where I will live on doesn’t quell the fear I feel whenever I think of my own death. But now, to know it could be worse—I could simply be nothing—frightens me even more. Kane glances up, his brows furrowed. He reaches for me, long fingers brushing over my knee, before drawing his hand back.
“My mother,” I whisper hesitantly. I wring my hands together in my lap as Kane’s eyes drink me in. “Is she in danger?”
I try not to think of my mother’s existence here. It feels unreal to imagine that she might be somewhere in this world, living without me. I don’t like to picture it. Kane seems to sense my trepidation and his hand rests on my knee again. He’s cold, emanating a chill, but it doesn’t bother me. His thumb strokes the inside of my knee.
“Your mother is safe,” he says. His voice is soft and quiet. “Mortals do not live in the Underworld proper; you won’t find her here. Reapers escort mortal souls elsewhere, so no, your mother is not in danger.”
“Good.” My shoulders sag a little and I nod, feeling relieved.
“I can take you there,” Kane says suddenly. I look up at him with surprise, wondering if he’s teasing me. But his black eyes are as sincere as I’ve ever seen them. “I can take you, but you won’t be able to see her.”
“Why would you do that for me?” I ask, suddenly suspicious.
Kane rolls his eyes. “I’m trying kindness for once, but if you would rather I continue being cruel to you, I can do that just as easily.”
“No,” I blurt. “Thank you—I would like that very much.”
“Cruelty?” He cocks a brow, lips quirked into a teasing grin.
“To go to where my mother is,” I say ruefully.
Kane rises, offering me his hand and I take it. He helps me to my feet, holding my hand a little too long to be meaningless. My heart pounds faster at his touch and I feel a thread of yearning when he drops my hand. He leads me out of the dungeon room and back into the dark halls. This time, he doesn’t rush through the halls, forcing me to run. He keeps pace with me, and the simple courtesy has my heart swelling in my chest with questions.
“That’s all for today,” he says.
“Are those the only Nephilim?” I ask as we ascend the stairs.
He shakes his head. “No. There are dozens, but those are the only ones who were scheduled for today.”
“Do you think,” I pause, searching for the right words, “Do you think there will be another murder tonight?”
It feels like a slap to my conscience when his eyes dart towards me. "I am almost sure of it."
We fall into companionable silence as he leads me through the gothic halls. My eyes rove the delicate paintings on the walls, portraits of men and women with diadems and claymores. This is a wing of the castle I’ve never been to before and I’m filled with curiosity. I have yet to be outside of it, beyond the water garden, but I imagine it must be massive. I crane my neck to look at the arched ceilings, the white stucco transforms to charcoal gray. The lights in the hall dim and the windows grow fewer and narrower. The castle is suddenly more ominous than it was before.
“This is the public wing,” Kane explains as we pass a fresco of narrow bodies encased in flames. “My Court lives in this wing and this is where I conduct business publicly—visit with my subjects and the like.”
“What are we doing here?” I ask. My curiosity is piqued. I didn’t know Kane had a Court. My only experience with one was at my Father’s Court, and those nobles weren’t exactly friendly to me.
“I thought perhaps it was time to introduce you.” Kane flashes me a wicked grin.
I feel a sense of dread twisting in my gut. “Is that wise?”
"Why wouldn't it be? You're eager to fall into your duties as my Queen." He pauses, turning towards me. Kane bends low, smirking at me with his exquisite lips. My stomach flutters, doing little somersaults. His rose-scented breath wafts over me, intoxicating and sweet. "Aren't you, Briar?"
I run my tongue over my lips, wetting them. His dark eyes catch the movement, and I hear a low rumble in his chest. I know by the way my body reacts to just his closeness that there’s nothing in me capable of denying him in this moment. “I want to try,” I breathe.
Kane strokes my cheek, his fingers playing over my temple. I lean into his touch, letting his palm cool my skin. “It pleases me to hear that, Briar.” My heart pounds loudly when he says my name. “Will you do something for me?”
I feel instantly wary. “What is it?”
“Avoid the dragons. They’re brutes.” Kane grins and pushes my shoulders, shoving me away from him.
I stumble backward, arms outstretched to catch myself. They graze over the hinges of a door and then nothing but open air. My heels click against marble, louder and sharper than the echo of my heels on the wood floor of the halls. My wide eyes are locked on Kane but he merely chuckles. And then a door slams in my face, blocking him from sight. I inhale sharply, nerves tingling with fear. I can feel a presence behind me, perhaps more than one. It's as quiet as a graveyard.
I try the door handle, but it’s locked tightly. I suspected as much. My hands stray to my waist, where I could have hidden my dagger if Willem hadn’t stolen it from me. I turn slowly, palms slick with sweat. Kane has locked me in a grand chamber, more exquisite even than my father’s throne room. The ceilings are high, with grand chandeliers sparkling in diamonds and crystals. To the right, I see a dark throne made of obsidian and carved to resemble fangs. On the opposite end are enormous doors, carved with effigies of the tortured dead. The marble floors are as dark as night, streaked with red as if blood was spilled over it. Heavy columns of the same dark stone line the room, leading towards the throne. I swallow hard but my throat is dry with fear.
The room is filled with people. At least, they appear to be people like me. A few of the men and women have horns jutting from their temples. Some have wings, fleshy like a bat. The courtiers are dressed in finery, much more elegant than the simple dress I chose today. They’re glittering in jewels—sewn to their gowns and suits, glued to their necklaces and adorning their diadems. Each and every one of the courtiers in this room is beautiful, unnaturally lovely. My eyes are wide as I take them in.
No one moves, as if frozen in time. They stare at me, some with open curiosity and others with disdain. The silence is shattered when one of the women snaps her fingers and servants carrying silver trays of alcohol slip into the room. Chatter grows, swelling like a wave. I lick my lips nervously and start towards the crowd. I summon as much courage as I can, trapped in a room filled with creatures of the Underworld and all alone. But my heart is pounding like a rabbit in the sights of a diving hawk.
The cluster of creatures nearest me turn as I approach. I force a smile, remembering my lessons from court. "Good afternoon," I say, demurely.
“Ah, the young bride,” a man with black spiraling horns quips. His blonde hair is slicked back. He frowns at me over his goblet. “I see Death has unceremoniously dropped you in our midst.”
“Kane has other duties,” I say, even though I’m not entirely sure just what Kane is doing while I’m trapped here.
“I’m sure.” The man gives me a pinched, disbelieving smile.
I resist the urge to wring my hands together. “Please forgive me, Lord--”
“Lord?” He snorts. “Oh, the manners of the mortal realm. It’s Prince, actually. Prince Cassius.”
“A pleasure to meet you.” I dip my chin in a small bow.
“Never mind him,” a woman beside me says. Her full lips are pulled into a kind smile. She looks perfectly mortal, except for the glistening fangs in her mouth. “I’m Inez. Cassius is grumpy because he’s been trying to get an audience with Kane for weeks now.”
“And to think he was just outside that
door,” Cassius drawls.
I lift my chin, feeling defensive of Kane. “As I said, he has other duties.”
Cassius rolls his eyes. “Mortal, we’ve been members of Kane’s Court before your mother and father were even thinking of your existence. Trust me when I say I know Kane.”
“You’re in love with him,” Inez says, brows raised.
“No,” I sputter. I snatch a drink from a nearby tray and lift it to my lips to hide the blush to my cheeks. “But Kane is to be my King.”
“Ah.” Inez nods. “Then it’s simply protecting his honor.”
“He doesn’t need you to do that,” another woman says bitingly. She too has perfectly mortal features. I glance at her mouth, checking for fangs but she has none.
My shoulders stiffen. “No, he doesn’t. But a wife has her duties to her husband.”
“You’re not his wife, yet,” the woman says, narrowing her eyes.
“Forgive me, you are?” My gaze grows cold and hard. I’m not accustomed to being spoken to like this, except by my sisters.
Inez takes my elbow, leaning in conspiratorially. “Scarlet, of the line of the Gods.”
A Demi-goddess then. She would expect my obeisance in the mortal world, but here I’m Kane’s bride. “A pleasure.”
Scarlet smirks cruelly, taking a sip of the spirits in her glass. “Don’t get too comfortable, mortal, your time here will be short.”
“Why is that?” I can’t help but ask, even though my heart is pounding with nerves.
“Kane will grow bored with you soon enough. He always does with these mortal brides.” Scarlet’s eyes are like pools of thorns, muddled brown but sharp. “After all, how could a mortal compare to her?”
I turn, following Scarlet’s red fingernail towards a woman she’s indicating. I feel sick as I study the woman, but I keep my face a mask of calm. Her dark brown hair cascades down her back in waves. Her skin is like ebony and shimmering gold in the soft light of the throne room. She wears a wine-red silk gown, and it hugs her lean figure, tight enough that her breasts almost spill out of it. The woman leans forward a centimeter, laughing. Her teeth are pointed.
“Who is that?” The words slip from my lips before I can stop them.
Cassius sighs, as if bored. “Lilith. A Lady of the Vampire Court.”
“She was Kane’s lover for centuries,” Inez says, her hand slipping from my elbow.
“And he always goes back to her,” Scarlet adds with a smirk.
My head is whirling, and my heart feels too small and tight for my body. I drag my eyes away. “Tell me more about the court. Prince Cassius, to what realm do you belong?”
Inez interrupts as Cassius opens his mouth to reply. “Cassius is a demon. And you don’t have to call him Prince—it only strokes his already enormous ego. I’m a vampire, in case you were wondering.”
“And entirely insane,” Cassius snaps.
Inez grins wickedly. “How else would a thousand years of living be fun?”
I fall silent, listening to Inez and Cassius bicker back and forth. Scarlet drifts away and I can’t say I’m not grateful she’s gone. I take another sip of the wine, letting it fill my head with pleasant humming. My eyes rove over the demons, vampires, dragons, and demigods in the room. Kane’s Court is more powerful than anything I could have ever imagined. The noblemen and women in my Father’s court are nothing in comparison to this. I am nothing compared to this.
Chapter 10
Kane
The night of the ball is at hand and it’s the last thing on my mind; the bottom of my list of priorities. But I shrug on my suit jacket and button it deftly. Outside my windows, the city glows with festive lights, hung in honor of my new bride. Jovial, fast-paced music flows through my closed windows. I pause beside them, tempted to open the stained-glass and let the sound fill my room. But I don’t. I reach for the mask resting on my windowsill.
My door clicks open and I recognize the fresh, sunny perfume of my mother. Desona strides into the room, her pure white gown flowing behind her. I sigh, rubbing at my temples. Ten seconds and I’m already sick of her. Desona hardly glances at the room, making a beeline straight for me. She opens her arms and I step into them dutifully. She clings to me as if I was on my death bed. I give her a few seconds before I pull away, hiding my grimace.
“Mother,” I say.
"Kane, it's good to see you." Her voice is like honey and summer wind. She wrinkles her nose. "Is that what you're wearing?"
“It is,” I quip, settling the black mask on my face. The mask is dyed leather. It covers my face completely and has two horns jutting from the forehead. It suits me.
“And that mask? Darling, I think you wore that to the last masquerade,” Desona says, pursing her lips.
“It’s been a century since the last, mother, I doubt anyone will remember.” I head for the door, ushering her out.
“I remember,” she says curtly.
“Anyone besides you,” I correct. I take her elbow, leading her down the hall towards the throne room. “How have things been in the Lands of Light?”
“Oh, much the same. You know how Basil is.” She rolls her eyes, thinking of the God of Lightning and Storms, and then snaps them towards me accusingly. “Don’t try to distract me with gossip. Tell me about this mortal of yours.”
I close my eyes and inhale deeply. Since my mother sent me the first letter last week, I’ve heard nothing from her. But I know she’s burning with questions and judgments. Briar has been assisting me in my efforts to find the Nephilim. It’s been difficult focusing on the investigation with Briar hovering beside me, smelling like almonds and honey. But we’ve grown closer, little by little, and eliminated all of the recorded Nephilims. I’m certain it’s a rogue, created by another rogue, and so on and so forth. I press my lips into a thin, hard line. I want to be out with the city guard, patrolling the streets. The Nephilim won’t be able to resist all of the festival-goers in the city.
“Kane?” My mother snaps.
“Don’t worry,” I sigh. “You’ll meet the little Princess soon enough.”
We pause outside the door to the throne room. Music filters through the heavy doors, shadows dance below the door. Inside, the entirety of my Court and friends of my mother are dancing. My thoughts wander to Briar and I wonder if she’s up for the intensity of the partygoers. She was quiet after she spent a few hours with my Court. But I refused to ask, and she didn’t tell me.
“Well, where is she?” Desona asks, her voice brittle and sharp.
“She’s coming, mother,” I drawl. Desona has always been entitled and dramatic, much like the other Gods. Being stuck in the Underworld has helped me maintain my distance from them and therefore my ego. Desona parades hers like a crown.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Briar says from behind us. Her voice is small, lilted with fear.
I turn, my stomach tight with anxiety as to how my mother will take her. Desona isn’t the gentle, bright goddess that the mortals envision her to be. My shoulders stiffen and heat blooms in my chest. Briar stands in the center of the hall, her petite figure draped in a black gown covered in jewels. The sparkling crystals cascade over her shoulders and breasts, down to her waist. The silk hugs the curve of her hips, pooling at her feet. A deep hunger settles in me, the kind that takes all night to sate.
Her face is covered in a grotesque, intricate mask. It's blood-red, wrinkled and scowling. The mouth of the mask is split into a frightening howl. Two horns curl from the scalp, piercing the air. Her dark hair is curled, wild, and wholly unkempt. She looks ravishing. A growl rips from my throat before I can contain it and I slip away from Desona to close in on Briar. I hear a gasp slip from her lips, barely visible in the mouth of the demon she wears. I tug her to me, a hand wrapped around her slim waist. I can hear her heart beating wildly and feel her blood thrumming. She smells like desire.
“Briar,” I growl.
“Kane, you look,” she trails off, eyes darting to Desona. “I’m so
rry. Kane, will you introduce me?”
I lift my chin, feeling a thread of anger towards my mother and the ball. If I could, I would throw Briar over my shoulder and carry her to my rooms. But I have duties. I grind my teeth and then force myself to settle. My fingers curl against Briar’s hip as I guide her closer to Desona. Briar is stiff in my arms, fear oozing from her like cologne. We’ll have to work on that, she and I.
“Mother, this is Briar of Ryrn—my bride.” I stroke her hip, trying to relax her. “Briar, this is Desona, the Goddess of Life and my mother.”
“I’m honored,” Briar says as she dips into a deep curtsy.
Desona sniffs. “Tell me, Thorn, do you worship the Three? Or the Lesser?”
“Briar,” I say sharply, well aware that my mother knows.
Desona simpers. “I’m sorry, darling, there’s just so many women.”
Briar purses her lips and squares her shoulders. “I would prefer to keep my religious habits to myself, Goddess.”
“That’s perfectly acceptable,” Desona says, smiling. She spins, facing the ballroom door. “Shall we?”
My mother doesn't wait before throwing the ballroom doors open with her magic and sauntering into the red-stained light beyond. She disappears into the dim light of the ballroom and too loud applause. Briar balks, and I can feel her trembling. I tighten my grip around her waist and pull her securely into my side. Softly, I press my lips to her hair over her ear.
“Briar,” I murmur. “You look beautiful. Don’t be frightened.”
Kindness, always kindness. For now.
“Your mother is intimidating,” she whispers, taking a step towards the throne room.
“Pretend she isn’t even there.” I urge her forward. “Desona has always been a special sort of arrogant.”
“The kind that thinks she’s a god?” Briar jokes.
I cock a brow, though Briar can’t see it behind the mask. “Look at you, Briar, is that your first joke?”
I see her grateful smile inside the mouth of the mask. “I’m ready,” she says, nodding.