Darkest Sinner (The Dark Ones Saga Book 5)

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Darkest Sinner (The Dark Ones Saga Book 5) Page 11

by Rachel Van Dyken


  Her coat was mostly white with faint shadings of gray at her feet. Her mane was braided and dyed different colors of blues and purples. She was so beautiful it hurt to look at her.

  “Stop calling me princess.” I grabbed the reins.

  Whatever I said earned chuckles.

  “What now?” I hissed as we turned in the opposite direction of Ra’s temple.

  “Thought your memory would be better now that we’re here.” Tarek shrugged. “Should we tell her?”

  “No,” Alex snapped. “It has to be natural, organic. She has to experience things the same and make a different choice than last time. Furthermore, so does he.”

  “Timber?”

  Uneasiness fell over the three of them, but no one replied.

  “Right?” I tried again.

  “He’s… not known as Timber here,” was all Alex said.

  “Who is he?” I almost didn’t want to know.

  “Death,” Mason finally uttered as something flickered in his eyes, new knowledge maybe. “He is known as death.”

  TIMBER

  Egypt, Valley of the gods

  “Father wants a virgin.” The first thing my brother Horus said as we rode through the valley, taking inventory of all the gods that no longer resided with us, and furthermore, taking a tally of the ones still living who could defy us taking over the gods of the Greeks.

  Not many remaining.

  Thank the Creator.

  Dirty bastards anyway, less powerful, more whiny. Pity since they were beautiful to look at, horrible to escort to the Abyss, always arguing over why they should never die when that was the Creator’s plan all along.

  An end, so He could finally start over, a new beginning.

  My horse neighed.

  “Quiet, Styx,” I murmured as we pulled to a stop in front of the Temple of Ra. It had been years since we’d visited. I was pulled to it now, and I couldn’t explain why.

  My own grandfather looked like my brother, but even he was withering with age; it showed in his laugh lines, I wondered when he would finally be done, finally want to be set free from the rules that bound us to this earth.

  “Did you hear anything I just said?” Horus asked with a soft chuckle.

  “Yes. A virgin. Good luck finding a goddess that will actually appease him.” I snorted.

  “He’s already found one. A human,” Horus said under his breath.

  I turned and gave him a confused look. “What? A human?”

  “Royal.” He shrugged. “Like that helps.”

  “Exactly!” I was disgusted. “We don’t mix for a reason. Our bloodlines don’t allow it. The last time it happened, Ra was not pleased, the Creator was even more displeased, and we were almost at war!”

  “Her father,” Horus kept talking, “is one of the last remaining Greek gods with sustainable power, Apollo. The alliance would be beneficial to everyone involved.”

  “You said she was human,” I corrected.

  “She’s mostly human, apparently Apollo wanted her to have a normal life, so he begged the Creator for a boon—take her godliness from her blood, but leave her beauty.”

  I snorted. “And he said yes?”

  “He said there was a reason.”

  My body was on edge as I clenched my teeth. “There always is, isn’t there?”

  Horus nodded his head toward the temple. “We should visit.”

  “He’ll burn us on site.”

  “Maybe you…” Horus said with a burst of laughter.

  I just rolled my eyes. “It’s not my fault he’s scared of me now that he knows what I do. He will always fear his death. I don’t take it personally.”

  “You shouldn’t. Not until you surpass him in power, as you’re already doing.”

  I ignored him, even though I knew there had been whispers that the more my father fed his dark side, the more strength the Creator gave me, the more dominion I had.

  “We all see it,” Horus said softly. “One day you will take over and I’m glad for it. No other god is better.”

  “You mean older,” I joked trying to take the attention away from myself as much as possible, because if my own brother knew this, then everyone else did too, including my own very jealous father.

  “Try not to break a hip,” he teased.

  We both laughed and then raced across the desert, back to our father’s temple and his people.

  It was a beautiful prison painted as one of the most enormous temples in the Nile.

  Set wasn’t evil, but he wasn’t good either. He bargained, he wagered, he craved the war between the last remaining gods because he knew with his two sons on his side, along with Ra, we wouldn’t fail.

  The Greeks didn’t stand a chance.

  Which begged the question, why an alliance?

  “Why,” Horus said echoing my very thoughts as if they were his own. “Indeed.”

  Two hours later…

  I could live a million years and never tire of the sight. The gates of Set and Osiris. White marble columns rose from the desert floor. Brilliant jewels shone from above, casting beams of colored light in all directions. Everywhere the eye could see, gleaming gold decorated pillars and trellises, and more jewels winked from settings in the marble walls. And no matter where we were inside the giant city gates, there was laughter, the smell of food, sweet meats, flowers. Every breath inhaled was a gift of fragrance from the most expensive perfume money could buy.

  The white marble streets were lined with our people, happy, safe, protected from death, destruction—protected from me as long as they served the Creator.

  It always amazed me how easily humans forgot the danger that lurked in that temple, that skulked mere feet from where they stood—from where they refused to worship.

  To worship me was forbidden as long as my father sat on the throne. I would forever walk among them, feeding off their fear as much as I would their worship. Then again, I didn’t want it. Part of me knew the Creator was a jealous being. He didn’t want humans worshipping his creation; he wanted them worshipping Him.

  And I couldn’t find it within me to argue such a valid point—my brother agreed with me at least on that front. It was like worshipping the meat once it was cooked rather than thanking the cow for existing in the first place and giving up its life.

  Ridiculous.

  We walked farther into the inner city while people watched in awe, many of them whispering, others hiding.

  The main temple was said to be the tallest building on the planet, over seventy stories high with over a thousand rooms in the actual temple itself, not to mention the hordes of animals kept within its walls for food and entertainment.

  The temple of Osiris looked like heaven on earth, the opposing temple the darker of the two—Set’s faced the east to honor Ra with the sunrise, and at sunset it looked as though someone had dipped it in orange paint.

  The only thing missing was the gate to Heaven, which had long since been destroyed. Once the Creator spread humans throughout the universe, it was dangerous, He had admitted, for them all to understand one another.

  Our people had no idea that the gates they often walked by were actually the gates of Tartarus—Hell itself. Because my father was not a good man—well, he wasn’t a man at all but either way goodness was not in his makeup—power hungry, jealous to his core.

  His desire was always more.

  His curse was to never be satisfied.

  And it seemed to be getting worse with age. While his sons thrived, he plotted, and I feared the day he would one day push one or both of us too far.

  I felt it in the air around me.

  In the way, my skin prickled with awareness.

  Rumors spread that he was the god of the demonic race, a way for the Creator to prove to the gods that there was a fate worse than death—being trapped as an immortal, cursed to live in a constant thirst with the need to feed on the very humans you swore to protect.

  I gripped my throat. I was a god, but that base
r instinct still ran through me, watching, waiting to attack. I knew the blood that ran through me, that if my soul was one day lost, that part of me would take over. It was the only way the Creator kept balance between the gods and their enormous amounts of freely given power, the very real threat that you could give in to darkness—and come out the loser, or that he could snap his fingers and everything would be lost.

  I rebuked the darkness on a daily basis, however, because I was a god.

  And not just any god.

  I was the god of death.

  The taker of souls.

  I smirked as we made our way up the sleek marble stairs into the golden throne room.

  Let them try to take me. I’d been missing a good fight.

  KYRA

  I wasn’t hiding my emotions very well, something that the guys commented on for the next hour as we traveled to the land of my apparent father. I wondered what he looked like. I wondered if he would give me the same look of disappointment and sadness my father back in my world did, every time I wasn’t able to find what they were looking for.

  Every time I failed.

  I pressed a hand to my chest and gasped when I encountered it. “My necklace! I have my necklace!”

  “Interesting that it would travel back with you—meaning it has already been given, possibly for protection,” Alex said in a silky voice that immediately calmed my nerves, especially since I started to hear cheers as we moved our horses over the sandy hill.

  The minute I reached the top, my jaw dropped.

  Grecian style white pillars surrounded at least thirty square miles of jungle, right in the middle of the desert! A huge menacing white castle stood in the middle of the city, its walls so high it seemed impossible to penetrate. Ivy had wrapped itself around the structure, giving it a fairy tale look.

  I tried to wipe the smile off my face—and failed. This wasn’t exactly the adventure I had signed up for when I started working at Soul—I had this immediate need to show Timber, to tease him, get a rise out of the grumpy sarcastic demon whose kisses felt like a drug.

  Mason grunted. “You’re blushing.”

  I scowled in his direction. “I was just thinking.”

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Tarek mused. “Oh wait, I think I know exactly what you were thinking about. Odd that a demon bite would feel so satisfying, am I right?”

  I wanted to crawl under my horse and hide. All three of them snickered like they knew every gory detail. I held my head high. “It was fine.”

  “She’s blushing harder,” Tarek quipped. “Didn’t know Timber had it in him. Isn’t he missing his heart?”

  “You’d think he would have asked for that instead of a used soul.” Tarek sighed in amusement. “But no, now we have to do the heavy lifting.”

  I frowned. “Is he… I mean, he’s going to be okay, right?”

  “As long as you don’t fail,” Tarek said cheerfully then added, “No pressure. And you’re going to find out very soon, because it looks like the solstice is starting, which means you’re about an hour away from visiting the temples of Osiris and Set.”

  I frowned as we neared a creek that ran down the path leading into the city. Orange trees in full bloom surrounded us; it smelled like heaven!

  “What do I do when I get there?”

  Tarek stiffened. “Just be yourself.”

  “Anything else?”

  Mason reached over and patted my hand. “Try not to faint.”

  That wasn’t helpful.

  “What about my father? And mother? Here in this time? Will they know?”

  “Doubtful.” Alex sounded confident. “You’ve been reborn, so you’re still you replacing you in the past, the same way you’ve been doing it in the future. Timber, however, will not be the same as he’s currently trapped in the present probably battling his own inner demons, if he’s even awake.”

  Or still alive. He didn’t say what we were all thinking.

  He couldn’t die.

  I refused it.

  The thought of it had me feeling so sick to my stomach I wanted to cry. It was weird how attached I suddenly felt.

  The gates to the city opened, and we trotted the horses through. I tried to stay in between Tarek and Mason while Alex went ahead of us, looking every inch the god he was.

  People cheered.

  I could get used to this.

  I smiled.

  “Wave,” Mason coughed under his breath.

  I lifted my right arm and waved, and noticed that I had jewels covering every single finger, black rubies to be exact.

  Was that why my hand felt heavy?

  I suddenly wondered what I looked like.

  Back home my hair was cropped and I had blue streaks, call it my version of rebellion, I liked cowboy boots and jean shorts and preferred tank tops and sweatshirts to anything fancy.

  I looked down. I was in a white dress that wrapped tightly around my body, I was wearing thin gold sandals that wrapped all the way up to my thighs, I could tell because my dress has a slit on each side.

  I stopped waving when the massive castle gates opened to us.

  Why were we going to the castle?

  Both men were silent as Alex gave a two-finger salute and led his horse ahead of us into the inner gates.

  A trail of yellow and pink roses led up the stairs and toward a massive throne made of black stone.

  And sitting there was a carbon copy of my father, only this man looked a lot more like Alex.

  He had golden flaxen hair, his eyes were glowing gold, and his armor was swirled in red and silver.

  He stood and spread his arms wide in a way my dad had never done before, in a way that made me feel like I belonged in the past more than I belonged in my present. Tears pricked my eyes as someone—maybe Tarek? Mason? It could have been anyone, really—helped me from my horse. I didn’t walk up the stairs. I didn’t even register that this man was anything other than what I’d wanted my entire life—the way I’d wanted my dad to look at me. I’d never realized what I’d been missing.

  This. Was. Love.

  Despite wearing sandals, I sprinted up those stairs, and then I launched myself into his arms, hoping, praying they would wrap around me the way I dreamed.

  And when they did.

  I let a tear slip.

  “Kyra,” he whispered in a way so reverent, so deep and true that I kept my arms wrapped around his neck even though his skin felt hot like the sun.

  He said my name like he knew me.

  He said my name like I was his.

  Slowly, this god, my father, pulled back and cupped my face, his hands covered in jewels of green and silver. “I missed you.”

  I opened my mouth to speak. His accent was slight, mine would be nonexistent. I couldn’t cover up my American heritage, so I said. “I missed you too.”

  His eyes flickered and then narrowed, he looked behind me at the three massive figures then back to me. “It seems…” He hesitated. “…that we have a lot to discuss.”

  Shit, did he know?

  How?

  “All right.” I ducked my head but didn’t miss how he wrapped a protective arm around me and led me away, snapping his fingers behind him as Alex, Mason, and Tarek followed.

  We didn’t have to go far before I saw my mom, she was walking toward us, her arms outstretched, and then something odd flickered in her gaze with my dad. Massive doors swung closed, leaving us in a large room filled with a feast fit for a king. A long wooden table stood in the center, with several soft purple chase lounges scattered around it.

  “Leave us,” Dad barked.

  Every single guard left.

  At least my guard stayed. I recognized the annoyance in my dad’s gaze, though it was weird seeing him actually express anything other than disappointment.

  “I think…” My dad sat at the head of the table. “You should start at the beginning…” His eyes fell to Alex as his voice lowered. “Or perhaps… the end.”

  I stiffened.
Where had I gone wrong? He’d seen me a total of five minutes. Tarek reached for my hand and squeezed it then helped me sit down while Mason sat on the other side.

  Both of them pulled off their helmets at the same time earning a gasp of horror from both my parents.

  Well that didn’t bode well for us.

  “Watcher,” Dad whispered his eyes locked on Mason. “How are you not chained to the Abyss!”

  “Funny story.” Alex flashed him a grin then pulled off his own golden helmet. His orange hair fell past his shoulders as his eyes blazed the same color in my dad’s direction. “Okay I lied, maybe not funny… as much as, surprise?”

  My mom covered her mouth with her hands and whispered with trembling fingers. “We have failed. That is what you’re telling us?”

  I forgot how frail my mother looked. She was very human in appearance, with long jet-black hair, pale blue eyes, and golden-brown skin that made her even more flawless. She was wearing a white, floor length dress that wrapped around one shoulder and draped down to the floor. From the way it glinted in the light, I thought maybe it was dusted in diamonds.

  “Not necessarily,” Mason answered from my right. “We’ve been sent back to correct a wrong. One of our own—one of your own is dying and the only direction the archangel gave us was something even we can’t warn you about.”

  My dad was quiet and then his eyes flashed blue. “How many years?”

  I shifted in my seat while Alex answered.

  “You really don’t want to know that.”

  “Tell me!” Dad’s voice boomed like thunder in that room.

  I clutched Tarek’s hand tighter. He wrapped a muscled arm around me, his eyes flashing a bright brown as a low growl rumbled in his chest.

  Mom gave him a weary look. “They walk with the Kings of the earth.”

  “The King,” Mason corrected, standing to his full height. “You’re lucky I don’t require a bow.”

  Oh, hell. My dad looked pissed but did nothing.

  Mason joined Alex. “As far as how many years from this present date, it isn’t for you to know. It changes nothing, it helps nobody. Just know that the gods of old are either imprisoned for intervening or they are…” He eyed Alex. “…diminished in their powers so that they don’t hurt the human race—or themselves for that manner. The Creator has given us all free will, and we choose to live amongst the mortals, meaning we choose to live with a diminished power.”

 

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