by Amy Sumida
I swiped angrily at my tears. Sara had moved on, but I wallowed.
“It broke me,” I whispered. “It broke the hold I had on Faenestra. She rose and joined me in my pain. She used the trauma to bind us together; united in vengeance. We were stronger than ever, and we tore through Tír na nÓg; avenging Sara as only a goddess could. Slate, I...” I took a shaky breath. “You know what I did, don't you?”
“Tell me anyway, Spellsinger.” He laid a warm hand against my cheek. “Tell me everything. I don't for one second believe that I know it all. Not anymore.”
“I burned the Snowflake Obsidian Court to ashes. Even the stone walls. I hurt the jewel; something that's truly horrifying to Shining Ones,” I admitted. “But first, I made those rapists scream for mercy, and I killed them anyway. I set the animals loose, though,” I laughed mirthlessly. “I've always loved animals. They are the only true innocents.”
Slate smiled sadly and nodded. “I have a soft spot for them as well.”
“I decimated the Shining Ones just as you said,” I went on. “Snowflake Obsidian and Malachite. Both gone. Ashes to ashes. And my lovers tried to stop me; even my divine husband, Darcraxis. He's a good man. He fought me to protect our children. And it angered me; the Faenestra me.” I took a deep, calming breath before I continued; I knew I'd need it. “I did the worst to Howlite. In my mind, my children had betrayed me. Darc and I, we'd given the Shining Ones more than any gods had given their creations. We had given them a little piece of our own immortality. They had abused that gift, and so I took it back.”
Slate only nodded. I stared at him in shock. Where was the judgment? Where was the horror? Maybe he didn't understand.
“I made them mortal, Slate,” I said.
“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Go on; finish your story.”
“My lovers came to stop me, and I hurt them too,” I said on a sob. “I turned our plans against them; the ones we'd made to imprison Faenestra. We had the dagger that had split my soul the first time, and we were going to use it to take Faenestra out of me again. But my body—even with its spellsinger immortality—wasn't strong enough to survive a dagger to the heart.”
“They had to stab you through the heart to separate your soul?” Slate lifted a brow.
I nodded. “My body had started to change as soon as my goddess magic was inside it. We had planned to wait until that change was complete, and I'd be able to heal the wound. But then Faenestra took over. I knew they were coming for me; to sever my soul even though I wouldn't survive it. I saw the orb Darc had created to contain Faenestra.”
“They were going to kill you?” He asked in shock.
“My soul would have lived on. I probably would have returned as a human. It wasn't what any of us wanted, but it was better than allowing me to kill all of the Shining Ones.”
He grimaced. No doubt, Slate believed he could have found another way. The man was just arrogant enough to think he knew better than a god. I smiled at that. When had his arrogance become endearing?
“They made an orb, so I made one too.” I inhaled deeply; calming myself. My hands were shaking. “An orb of light to trap a dark god. Then I took the dagger from Darc and stabbed him through the heart with it.”
Slate's stare flickered but held firm. His hand wrapped around mine. So warm. Mine were icy cold.
“I imprisoned Darc's god magic; leaving him with just enough to keep him immortal. I still loved him; in my own twisted way. But the other men; they were just playthings to Faenestra. I struck them down. I thought I killed Gage. But he was faking.” A near-hysterical laugh bubbled up. “That damn griffin saved us all. When I saw him lying there—the Elaria me—I found the strength to claw my way out of Faenestra's grip. The horror of killing Gage had finally freed me from her, but I knew I only had a few minutes before she rose again.
“Holy fuck,” Slate whispered. “You stabbed yourself with that damn dagger, didn't you?”
“I did.” I lifted my chin; it was the one thing I was proud of. “I knew I'd die from the wound, but I didn't care. I couldn't let her hurt any more of them. But my stone—Kyanite—had hidden the truth from me. He didn't want Faenestra to know that I had become immortal in the way of a goddess. I healed. I survived. Only to live with all I had done. So, you see, Slate Devon; you're right. You've always been right about me; I am a murderer. I am a killer. I deserve to be down there in that cell. In that arena. You should put me back and let me rot.”
Slate's eyes widened. “Do you truly believe that?”
“Don't you?” I looked him over and decided to test my theory. “Isn't that why I'm here?”
He flinched.
“Would you really have hurt Tessa?” I asked him.
Slate gave me one of his twisted smirks. “Tessa's gone. I sent her home the day after I put her in the arena to force you into quitting.”
“What?” I gaped at him.
“I'm not a monster, Elaria,” he growled. “I don't hurt children.”
“But what about all of that shit about giving the victim a fighting chance?”
“The victims I was talking about are heartless psychopaths; beneathers who would be killed on sight otherwise,” he explained. “The only collared fighters are criminals. This is my way of policing the Beneath. And maybe making a few bucks off them in the process.” He smirked. “They're sentenced to six months of fighting. If they live through it, they get to go free with some extra cash and a warning that if they continue killing, I'll bring them back for good.”
“Wait.” I blinked away tears; my pain forgotten in the midst of confusion. “What about the Sasq'ets?”
“What about them?”
“Cerberus took me to the Blue Mountains to protect them,” I said. “Someone was killing them; skinning them like animals. I assumed they'd been brought here to fight and had been killed in your arena.”
“No, that wasn't done here.” Slate scowled; his gaze dropping. “Fuck. It must have been the Shedder.”
“What?”
He blinked and looked up at me. “The Shedder, that naga; a merc brought him in just days before your arrival. He must have been hunting the Sasq'ets and that's how he was caught.”
“Are you saying that I'm here by accident?” I asked in surprise.
Slate's jaw clenched. “No; not exactly.”
I went still. “I think it's time for you to tell me everything, Slate. I gave you my truth—a whole fucking lot of it—now give me yours.”
Slate picked me up and carried me into his bedroom. I was too emotionally bruised to protest, but his intentions were honest. He set me on the bed and pulled open the drawer; brought out the file. He set it on my lap. I opened it only to pretend I'd never seen it before.
“Two men came to me; told me they had a monster for my arena.” Slate grimaced as he sat beside me. He picked out a picture of me and Cerberus. “They said they knew where you'd be and that you'd have another murderer with you; the Hound of Hades himself. I'd get two fighters—top dollar champions—while putting away the Slaughterer of Sapphire, the Kyanite Killer herself. You; Queen Elaria Tanager.”
“Who are they; the men who came to you?”
“Shining Ones.” He took my hand and squeezed it. “I believed them because one of them had been stripped of his magic and the other had been stripped of his—”
“Immortality,” I whispered and closed my eyes briefly. “Galen and Odran; the ex-King of Sapphire and the human King of Howlite.”
Slate nodded.
“Galen deserved what he got,” I said it without emotion. “But Odran; I understand his anger. I even support it.”
“I understand as well.” Slate's arm slid around me. “But I support it no longer. You need to forgive yourself, Elaria. For fuck's sake; you stabbed yourself in the heart to make things right.”
I turned to look up at him.
“Forgive yourself,” he whispered.
“I can't. Some things are unforgivable.”
“I wondered why you didn't put up more of a fight. Why such a vicious woman wouldn't rage and roar as Cerberus did.”
Slate slid his hand over my hair and undid the band of leather tying it back. The heavy weight of it fell forward around me, and I felt the tension in my shoulders go with it.
“You wanted to be punished.” Slate slid his fingers along my scalp; massaging, soothing. “You wanted to be hurt.”
“No; I'm not a martyr. I didn't want to be punished,” I corrected. “But a part of me thought it was some kind of karmic justice, and I understood it even if I couldn't accept it.”
“Then, as the Zone Lord who owns you, I declare that justice has been served.” Slate pulled out the gold chain from around his neck; the one I'd noticed awhile back. A single key dangled from it.
I looked from the tiny silver key to Slate. “Is that the key for all the collars?”
“No; just yours.”
“And you wear it around your neck?” I lifted my brows at him.
“Only recently.” Holding my gaze, Slate leaned forward and set the key into my collar. The metal slid away, into my lap, and I gasped in relief.
My love!
“Kyanite,” I whispered. “Hey, there.”
Hey? Hey?! What the hell is happening? You haven't been free in days. Some fuchite woman named Helene came to Kyanite and told Darcraxis where to find you. They sent Sara in, and she said she gave you their note. Are you ready to leave? Are you okay?
“Tell them to cancel the rescue mission, Ky,” I kept my stare on Slate as I spoke. “I've just been freed.”
“You can talk to your stone?” Slate lifted a brow. “Rescue mission?”
“You're damn lucky you just let me go, Devon,” I teased Slate. “My lovers would have torn this place apart.”
“Worth it.” Slate pulled me into his arms and kissed me.
My love? Elaria! What the fuck are you doing?
Shut up for one fucking second, Ky.
Yeah; it was wrong. I knew exactly what I was doing. No one forced me to kiss Slate back. No one forced me to touch his face and slide my fingers through his hair. And I certainly wasn't forced to pull him closer and press our bodies together. But he had just freed me; just proved that the honor I'd hoped to find in him really was there. I had looked deeper and been rewarded.
And then there was this tingling inside me.
Fuck; we can't tell your lovers about this.
No shit.
Wait; what's that? No; it can't be.
I wasn't listening to Kyanite anymore. And then he faded away. I assumed that he had gone to speak to Darcraxis. I eased back and stared at Slate; memorizing his face and his incredible scent. I tucked him away in my heart to look at another day; like he had looked at my picture.
“This is goodbye?” Slate's eyes burned for more.
“I can't see how it can be anything else.” I smiled gently. “You don't want to be a part of my cock collective.”
“No.” Slate stood and held a hand out to me. “Nor do I want to be the man keeping a good woman from the ones she loves.”
“Thank you, Slate.” I stood; only an inch away from him. “You've given me peace and freed me in so many ways.”
“And you've freed me, Spellsinger.” He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. “Living without love isn't strength; it's a cage.”
“Love can be a cage too.” I looked down at my engagement ring; a puzzle of gold bands that formed a bird. “But it's a cage that protects you, not confines you.”
“At least let me see you home.”
“Home is in another realm,” I reminded him. “All I need is my traveling stone. You do have it, don't you?”
Slate smirked. “Of course.”
He took my hand and led me out to his office. With a slick movement, he sliced his thumb on one of the gargoyle horns at the corner of his desk, and then pressed the drop of blood over the wood. A drawer popped open, and I rolled my eyes. Leave it to Slate to have a blood-lock on his desk.
Slate withdrew a velvet pouch and handed it to me. Inside was my necklace; my contact charm and traveling stone hanging from it. I slid it over my head as he leaned toward the black box on his desk and pushed a few buttons.
“Jago, free the Hound; they're going home,” Slate spoke crisply.
“Well, it's about time you figured out that you were misinformed, Boss.”
“Save it, Jago.” He pushed a button and cut Jago off.
I laughed, but it was a sad sound. Damn it all; I didn't want to leave.
“Pussy Liquor?” I asked Slate with a smirk. “Really?”
“It's a good song; brutal and sexy and just a little backwoods.” He shrugged. “I've always wanted to see a woman dance to it just for me.”
“You haven't?” I was surprised. “I'm sure there are plenty of women who would be happy to. Try Eleanor.”
“It's a fantasy. I wanted it to be perfect,” he whispered; the silver in his eyes going dull.
“Nothing's perfect,” I whispered back.
“I will miss you, Spellsinger.” Slate swallowed roughly; his jaw clenching.
I didn't answer. I had fought so hard against this man. For what? For pain I'd caused other men. Funny how it all comes back in the end.
I took my necklace off and slipped the contact charm from it. It was the one Torin had given me; a beautiful polished cone of barite with a rose-like formation at the flat end.
“All you have to do is call my name,” I said as I slid it into his ear.
“Elaria,” he whispered with a smile.
The contact charm fizzled uselessly. We both laughed.
“After I have another to replace the one I just gave you.” I shook my head at him. “Then you can talk to me through it.”
Slate eased the charm out of his ear and nodded. “If you promise to answer, I promise to call.”
“I'll answer.”
“Whoa; did I miss some shit or what?” Cerberus asked as he strode in with Jago.
“Told you, dog,” Jago said smugly. “They've been getting close.”
“Not close enough,” Slate murmured.
“You ready to go home?” I asked Cer.
“I guess.” He shrugged. “It's been pretty cool here.”
“I have one word for you; Freya.”
“What the fuck are you waiting for?” Cerberus asked. “Give me my fucking traveling stone, motherfucker.”
“That's right,” I whispered as Slate pulled another bag out of his desk and tossed it to Cer. “You can get us back.”
“Of course, I can get us back.” Cer scowled. “But don't you have your own stone?”
“I did.” I took my necklace off and handed it to Slate. “Just in case. Focus on anywhere, as long as it's on the other side of the Veil, and this will take you there.”
Slate stared down at the gleaming stone and then back at me. I wrapped his hand around it and squeezed. There was so much left unsaid between us.
“See you later, Slate.” I gave him one of his own smirks and walked away from him before it faltered.
Chapter Thirty-Six
“You're really going to leave him?” Jago glanced at me in the rearview mirror as he drove.
“She's got five men.” Cerberus elbowed Jago from his passenger seat in the Jeep. “She can't be bringing home another stray.”
“Yeah, but...” Jago grimaced and pouted out the windshield.
“It's not like she's in love with your boss or anything.” Cerberus glanced back at me. His expression went blank. “Are you?”
“No,” I said quickly; too quickly.
Cer's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but before he could say anything, he passed out on Jago's shoulder.
“Cer?” I gaped at the dart in his neck.
“Fuck!” Jago shouted; his eyes shifting over the street as he yanked the wheel in evasive maneuvers.
A dart hit Jago in the neck and he went down. The Jeep careened but I never saw us crash. The dart in
my own neck prevented that. The tranquilizer was powerful enough that I went from awake to comatose instantly.
I woke up choking on my own blood.