by Belle Malory
39
This time around, I didn’t vomit. A bright side in the grand scheme of things.
The Underworld was made up of four major districts. The Caverns, or the caves that bridged the river portals to the Underworld. Elysium, the main city. The Fields and Forest, where monsters roamed freely. Last, there was the Cross, the rural town skirting the perimeter of Elysium. That’s where we finally arrived.
The hooded green-skinned creature pushed at my back, forcing me down a cobbled street sandwiched between crooked leafless trees. Dark magic swirled overhead, noticeably present in the dense air. Everything about my surroundings felt like I was walking into a nightmare, one I could only hope to escape.
“Faster.” The creature shoved harder.
I tripped, scraping my knees against the rough cobblestone, blood seeping through my dress. The creature’s foot connected with my ribcage, knocking the wind out of me for several seconds. “Get up, you clumsy dox.”
I bit down on the inside of my cheek, trying to keep my temper in check. That particular insult had floated around school a few times, one of the foulest you could use in Mythos. It was given to those whose magic was considered so useless, they were worth less than a dog. The fact that he had the balls to call me one made me wonder if this trade Jett was making included a dead or alive clause when it came to their delivery of me.
Whatever the case, I needed to get away before Petra showed up, or else it was game over.
While no one was paying attention, I drew a strand of fire through the rope around my wrists. It sizzled and frayed as it split apart, and I coughed to mask the sound. Once free, I kept my hands together, pretending they were still bound.
After walking for about a half mile, we stopped at a small run-down shack. The place looked abandoned, except for the light glowing from behind the shutters. The same creature that called me a dox pushed me through the front door, once again knocking me to my knees. His mistake. I was ready for it this time. I jumped on his back and had the rope wrapped around his neck before he could make a move. He clawed at the rope, struggling to breathe. If I could just get him to pass out, I might stand a chance.
But the others moved too fast.
The yellow-eyed creature pulled me off with one strong tug, leaving the green dude coughing for air. As soon as he composed himself, he leapt on top of me. Those teeth looked like tiny razor blades above my face.
“Petra said she wanted to do it herself, Ajax,” the other one warned.
Clearly upset I’d bested him, the green creature hissed and stared down at me as if silently debating whether I was worth the trouble.
“Better listen to him, Ajax,” I said, knowing I was treading a dangerous line. But I didn’t care. I was still bitter about Jett’s betrayal and losing my chance to escape.
“She won’t mind if I cut out the girl’s tongue.” He pulled out a pocket knife and squeezed my cheeks together. “Here, hold her face while I slice it off. The little bitch will learn to respect—”
“I said stop!”
But Ajax did not want to stop. He went red, visibly shaking. After several long seconds debating, he let me go, but not before one parting blow. His fist came across the side of my head so hard, I fell backward. Writhing across the floor, I wrapped my head in my arms and groaned. My ears were ringing, but I vaguely noticed more voices coming from outside of the house.
“It’s her. You’re in for it now.”
“Shut up, Grey.”
Someone lit several lanterns, drawing more light inside the house. As I waited for the pain to subside, I looked around, trying to focus on something else. The place was empty, except for one lone table and a few chairs. Outside, I heard Jett’s voice along with several others. I heard a few words here and there, like payment, and after a while goodbye. It sounded like Jett was leaving. Good for her. I hoped she got her stupid ability, and I hoped those spirits gave her nightmares and haunted her every waking moment.
The front door open and closed again. Several more pairs of boots made their way inside, thudding around me. Strongarm mages, everywhere.
Strongarms were considered Zeus by bloodline; but in actuality, they were Herculean descendants, known for their ability to magnify physical strength. They usually ended up becoming guards, police, or soldiers. Back at Arcadia, the Strongarms and Ares descendants trained together and took many of the same classes. I wished it worked that way throughout the houses, that they could all bleed into one another. Then maybe, I wouldn’t feel so constrained inside Aphrodite.
I closed my eyes, not ready to face them all just yet. Most likely, these Strongarms were Petra’s personal guards. If she was as powerful as Xander claimed, she would have her own personal army.
“You’ve brought the wrong girl.” The voice was deep but feminine, and also hauntingly familiar. Like I’d heard it before in a dream. “We went to great lengths to plan this in secret, and you’ve brought me the wrong girl.”
Grey spoke next, sounding nervous. “There was only one Thorne girl at the school, mistress.”
“Curious.” Someone tapped their foot beside me. “Get her off the floor.”
A pair of arms hefted me upright, forcing me to my feet.
Aha, finally. Face to face with the infamous Petra Drakos.
Blinking through my blurred vision, I tried to focus on the woman studying me. The first thing I noticed was her black robe, recognizing its signature trademark from various books on Hollows. It was a gold emblem of a serpent coiled through a pentagram, sewn into the right sleeve. No one dared wear that emblem in Mythos, but the same laws and social constructs didn’t exist in the Underworld. Down here, power reigned supreme. Hollows could roam freely.
Next, I noticed Petra looked younger than I expected, her skin still as supple as a teenager’s. She had deep-set eyes that were narrowed on me, brunette hair combed back into a braid, and thick brows that slashed across her forehead. She was every bit as intimidating as I expected, but also, startlingly beautiful. It wasn’t difficult to see why my father had been attracted to her.
She snapped her fingers toward Ajax. “Get us some coffee.”
“Ahem, coffee, mistress?”
“That’s right.” She looked at me. “Unless you prefer tea?”
I blinked. “Uh, coffee is fine.”
What the…what?
“Thought so. You look like a coffee kind of girl.”
Ajax scratched his chin. “Where am I supposed to find—”
“I don’t care where you find it, but you better hope you do,” she said, without letting him finish. “If you return without it, your tongue will be the one sliced off.”
Without raising her voice, she managed to inflict terror. Seeing Ajax’s reaction made me swallow back a grin. After the way he handled me, I wouldn’t mind seeing him suffer a little. He shuffled out the door in a hurry, his eyes bulging with fear.
“We’d better start with introductions. I’m Petra Drakos.”
She held out her hand, but I refused to take it. Instead, I nodded stiffly. “I’m well aware.”
Pursing her lips, she lowered her arm. “And you are…Sheridan Thorne?”
“Yes.”
She had to ask? Earlier she mentioned I was the wrong Thorne girl, which meant she was after Riley. The more important question was, why?
“Hmm…” She smiled, her attention seemingly faraway. “I never knew what he named the two of you. Sheridan is a nice name.”
Petra removed her robe and laid it on the table, revealing a scarlet toga with leather bindings. Her muscles were still as taut as an Ares warrior. She gestured to one of the empty chairs, and I sat down.
“What have you heard about me, Sheridan?”
“Plenty.”
She nodded and walked around the table. “I’ve heard what people say. Frankly, it’s a mix of lies with a few truths thrown in.” She sat in the chair across from me. “There are two sides to every story. I would like to tell you mine, and then you c
an decide for yourself what’s true and what’s not.”
“I don’t care about your side of the story.”
I was still treading that damn line, but I refused to play nice. This woman was the reason my family was torn apart. I wanted her to know how much I despised her.
To my surprise, I didn’t burst into flames under the weight of her gaze. She simply laughed. “You don’t mince words, do you?”
I shrugged. “If you want to kill me, you will.”
“Fair enough,” she agreed with a nod. “But you’re here. You might as well humor me by listening. I can guarantee you’ll be interested in what I have to say.”
I doubted that, but she was right about one thing. I was here, and it didn’t look like I was going anywhere anytime soon. “If you must.”
“Wonderful.” She sounded cheerful, like I’d given her a gift. “The story starts long before mine and Daniel’s time, with a pair of young boys who became mortal rivalries. The first was Thomas Vane, the second Franklin Thorne.”
I jerked my head up at those names.
Okay. She definitely had my attention now.
“You’re saying this started with my grandfather?”
“Indeed.” Her lips curved into a slow smile. “Along with one of the most revered leaders of the Hollowed Council.”
Where had I heard that name before? Aha—my mother. “Thomas Vane, as in Selena Vane’s father?”
She nodded. “As well as mine.”
“Yours…” I gasped. “You and Selena are sisters?”
“Half-sisters,” she corrected. “Thomas left my mother, alone and pregnant, for Selena’s mother. Does the tale sound familiar?”
I swallowed. The vicious cycle in this family was on another level.
“Wait. My sister and I are also cousins?”
Again, she nodded.
Oh Jesus.
This was so messed up. My head was spinning. Pretty soon, I would need a handbook on who was who. “Let me see if I have this right,” I said, taking a deep breath. “You and my mother are half-sisters, and my grandfather is a Hollowed Council member.”
Her brow twitched. “Pretty much.”
“Pretty much?”
“Let’s start with their story, shall we?” She smoothed out the skirt of her toga, getting comfortable. “Thomas and Frank were childhood friends. Different bloodlines, but they played together, went to the same schools, and grew up in the same neighborhood. As they grew older, their friendship fell apart. Opposing beliefs, you see. Frank was conservative and strongly believed in upholding the law. Thomas was a radical thinker. He believed in Neoteric Magic, a force most Mythonians refuse to accept. Have you heard of it?”
I had, in one of the Twilight Island books. “I’ve read a little about it.” I searched my memory, until the paragraph came back to me.
Neoteric Magic, often associated with Dark Magic, stems from the modern idea that bloodlines are an outdated principle, and that serving humans offers no benefit to magical beings. Many mages practicing Neoteric Magic are thought of as careless or harmful as they prefer not to adhere to Mythonian laws, and their guiding principle is that nothing is off limits.
Petra continued on with the story. “Anyway, one boy fell in with the cops. The other landed himself with Hollows. Thomas believed in Neoteric Magic so strongly, he pledged himself to the Hollows at an early age, because they were the only group that accepted his values.”
“I think I see where this is going.”
Classic good-guy, bad-guy.
Petra nodded. “As Thomas rose up in rank, he went on to lead the Uprising. He planned to overthrow parliament around the same time Frank started working for MEM. Frank found out about it and set a trap. In only one day, he managed to imprison about two-thirds of the existing Hollows at the time. He managed to keep Thomas out of it though. Who knows why, maybe out of some misplaced sense of loyalty; but honestly, Frank should have locked Thomas up too.”
I arched a brow, wondering if I could trust anything she said. Jett claimed she wanted me dead—why not just kill me and get it over with?
“How do you fit into all of this?” I said to Petra.
“I’m getting there. Fast-forward about twenty years. Both men now have families with teenage daughters attending Arcadia. Of course, no one knew I was Thomas’s daughter. My mother remarried and kept it a secret. When Daniel and I met, I had no idea who he was. I genuinely liked him.” Her voice turned wistful, and she smiled sadly. “One of the universe’s ironic twists, I suppose. The next part happened as you’ve probably heard. Daniel fell in love with Selena, then left me for her. Heartbroken from the breakup, I didn’t realize I was pregnant until several months into the pregnancy. My mother’s disappointment was huge. All my life, she beat it into my head that men were slimy dirtbags, and she made me swear I’d learn from her mistakes. But there I was—humiliated and pregnant, just as she had once been. My mother was so angry, she disowned me. Since Daniel was with Selena, I had nowhere to go. Thomas was my only option. I fled to the Underworld and begged him to let me stay. He agreed, with conditions. First, I had to pledge myself to the Hollows. Second, I could never leave.” Her gaze drifted up, tightening bitterly. “He bound me to this world. At the time, it sounded like a decent trade. The Hollows are a feared, powerful group. I would be protected. I would have a place to raise my baby. Or so I thought.
“Only a few weeks after my daughter’s birth, Thomas’s goons snuck into my bedroom. I tried to fight them off, but there were too many…” Her strong, even voice broke just the tiniest bit. “You know the rest, except it wasn’t me who enacted the curse. My father sacrificed one of his men and tore out his own kidney to see it done. He imprisoned me here. He stole my baby. All out of revenge against Franklin Thorne.”
As I was listening, my mouth formed an O. This was not where I expected Petra’s story to go, not at all.
And I wasn’t sure whether or not to believe her.
I still couldn’t find a motivation for lying. What reason could she have for shifting the blame to her dad? If she’d been the one to curse Riley and me, wouldn’t she own up to it? Wouldn’t she proudly stake a claim in her own revenge?
Confused as hell, I came right out and asked her. “Why should I believe anything you say?”
“I’ve done many awful things in my lifetime; I admit to them all. But this—this I would never do. That perfect little baby was innocent. Sure, she may have been Daniel’s blood, but she was mine too.” She held her breath for one long moment before speaking again. “You are mine too, Sheridan.”
Wait—what?
“Don’t you mean Riley?”
Petra slowly shook her head. “If you were Riley, you would not be sitting in that chair alive.”
40
I laughed.
I laughed really hard and loudly. Petra sat there watching, without once cracking a smile.
Oh, the freaking tangliest of all webs!
The woman only spared me because she thought I was her daughter. Hell, maybe I should just go with it. Pretend I was Riley and get myself out of this mess before she figured out her mistake.
But I couldn’t help studying Petra, noticing the way her nose and mouth sloped, and the sharpness of her jaw. At first glance, she seemed so formidable, like nothing could shatter her calm. When I looked closer, I noticed how she held her hands in her lap, idly twisting the rings around her fingers. Anxiously. Similar to how I twisted my charm bracelet.
I swallowed and abruptly stopped laughing.
No way.
Xander swore under the ollidipher he made those promises to my mother, Selena Vane. The plant wouldn’t have allowed him to lie. Unless…what if it allowed him to lie because it was what he believed? Then he wouldn’t have lied; he simply hadn’t been aware of the truth.
I searched Petra’s face for evidence, as if I might find myself somewhere in it. Riley and I both took after our father, but there were subtle differences. My sister’s eyes wer
e round. Mine were almond shaped. Just. Like. Petra’s.
Pushing against the table, I scooted the chair back and jumped out of it.
It couldn’t be true.
“What p-proof do you have?” My voice started to shake. “Show me. Get an ollodipher.”
“I would, if I had one with me.” A slow, sad smile spread across her face. “Sheridan, all the proof you need is already within you.”
“No, I refuse to believe it.” I shook my head. “This is not happening.”
I was the one with perfect grades. I never lied. Never did drugs. Never stayed out all night partying. Okay, there was that one night in the woods, but that didn’t count. I was there to meet Vanisher. And there was the mishap with the scissors—but dammit, except for that, I had a perfect track record. I was the good daughter.
My world felt like it was shattering around me. I started to pace, wishing I could get out of this tiny little shack.
I ran my hands through my hair, tightening my fingers at my scalp. Petra was the evil Hollow, the one my father didn’t choose. It would make sense if she were Riley’s mother. Petra as my mother didn’t. Good grief, I needed something to make some goddamned sense.
“Sheridan.” Petra’s voice sharpened.
I ignored her, continuing to pace. There wasn’t enough air in this room. I couldn’t breathe. I held my hands to my throat, on the verge of hyperventilating.
“Sheridan, get a grip!” Petra banged her fist against the table so hard, it shook the entire room.
I stopped in my tracks to look at her. As much as I didn’t want this woman to be my mother, I could feel the truth of it. “My bibliomagery,” I said, searching for any way out of this. “I thought it came from my mother.”
Petra crooked a brow, looking impressed. “You’re a bibliomagus?”
I nodded. “Athena descendants—”