Reborn Series Box Set (Books 1-3.5)

by S. L. Stacy

  I don’t know for certain that I couldn’t make it across. I should at least try. I already passed the first test. I can’t just give up now.

  I unzip my dress and mentally call my wings forth. They spasm eagerly underneath my back. Muscle shifts and bone grinds as they break free and unfurl behind me. I flap them a few times, paying attention to the way the muscles in my shoulders and back clench and relax as I do. Flexing them one more time, as hard as I can, I launch myself into the air.

  I angle myself diagonally and continue to pump my wings, climbing further and further into the air. I wait until I’ve cleared the hot, hazy air churning above the valley before I start flying forward instead of up. Relaxing my muscles and spreading my wings to their fullest extent, I lapse into an even coast.

  “Woo-hoo!” I cry into the twilight. Air whistles past my ears as I soar like some bird of prey. I feel alive, free and strong. I’m not afraid. I’m not even close to being tired. I could do this for hours.

  It’s not long before I see the other side of the chasm. I keep flying over it and past it. I wait until I’m within a few hours walking distance from the mountains before I begin my descent.

  This time, I land steadily on my feet. I retract my wings. There’s a deeper chill in the air here, and the ground is cold. I’m standing on the bank of a bubbling spring. I crouch next to it, sitting back on my heels, and test the water with one finger. It’s pleasantly warm and crystal clear. I splash my face with it, then cup my hands to scoop some into my mouth. I sit there, alternately washing my face and drinking, until my arms fall to my sides from fatigue.

  My adrenaline level crashes. All of the walking, unicorn riding and flying are finally taking their toll. Everything hurts. The muscles in my thighs, shoulders and back ache the most. I twirl a finger around the inviting water of the spring. Taking a quick look around to make certain I’m alone, I stand, shed my dress and underwear and slip into the water.

  The water level just covers my breasts. Holding my breath, I plunge underneath the surface to wet my hair. I come back up and relax against the bank. Bubbles massage my skin like tiny scrubbers. I close my eyes and imagine the tension seeping from my body.

  “Well done.”

  I instinctively wrap my arms around my chest before I even open my eyes. When I do, I find my captor waist deep in the water, clapping lazily. “You managed to cross the Burning Chasm without so much as a singed feather. That valley caught fire long ago. The types of trees within it regenerate, so the fire never runs out of fuel. It’s been burning for ages. Just think if you had fallen in.”

  The water is starting to feel cold. I’m glad I didn’t know the details about the Burning Chasm beforehand—I don’t think I’d ever have risked flying over it.

  “You’ve got a lot of spirit, Carly.” He paddles closer to me. His golden skin glistens with droplets of water. Without the vest, I can see every rolling muscle in his arms, chest and abs. I find myself running the tip of my tongue along my lower lip. “You’ve almost got me rooting for you. Almost.”

  “Your Highness,” I spit, hugging myself tighter.

  “I think I like ‘Master’ better. There’s really no need for such modesty. The female anatomy is nothing I haven’t seen before.”

  I turn my head away as blood rushes to my face. “Get out of my spring.”

  “It’s my spring, actually.” He stops inches away from me, so close I could reach out and run my fingers down those chiseled abs. Not that I want to. “All of this is mine,” he adds, sweeping his hand through the air to include the spring, the mountains and the sky.

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “And this.” He cups my chin and turns my head to face him. The frosty touch of his fingers makes me shiver, but it’s not all from the drop in temperature or even fear. Anticipation builds in my abdomen. My hormones are screaming for him. Great—Stockholm Syndrome is just what I need.

  “I’m ready for the last test,” I say to distract him. And myself.

  “Patience, Carly,” he whispers huskily, tracing my mouth with his thumb. “I’m here because I want to congratulate you on your success so far. I want to give you a reward.”

  “W-What kind of reward?”

  “A kiss.” He closes the last few centimeters of space between us. “Just one kiss. But only if you want me to.”

  A kiss? That doesn’t sound so bad. Especially not right now, with every nerve in my body singing. “O-Okay. I mean, yes,” I say with more certainty. “Yes, you can kiss me.”

  He hesitates one excruciating moment before pressing his lips to mine.

  His kiss shoots through me like a shot of vodka. Shock waves tumble over me, reverberating all the way down to my toes. As he deepens the kiss, tentatively slipping his tongue inside my mouth, pressure builds inside of me until I’m hot and trembling, like a volcano about to erupt. There’s only a sliver of space between our bodies—our very naked bodies. He never closes that last millimeter. My breasts ache for his touch, but his mind ignores my telepathic pleas. I feel like I did not long ago when I was soaring through the air. Confident. Uninhibited. Free.

  Abruptly, he pulls away, leaving my swollen mouth hanging open in confusion. His green eyes glitter with restrained hunger.

  “Just one more test to pass, Carly,” he reminds me softly, “and you’ll be free of me.”

  He vanishes, leaving me trying to remember why I wanted to be free of him in the first place.

  Chapter 19

  For the tenth time in a matter of minutes, I’m about to explode.

  “Come for me, Siobhan,” Jasper pants as he pumps in and out of me—hard, fast and without any indication that he’s ready to slow down. I briefly wonder if his neighbors can hear us. With every thrust, the bed bangs against the wall, the springs screaming.

  And, as I reach my peak, so am I.

  Jasper shudders on top of me, finding his release at the same time. We cling to each other in the moments afterwards, coming down from our highs. He lingers inside of me, still gloriously hard and throbbing. I feel abruptly empty when he gently pulls out and rolls off of me, onto his back.

  “Wow,” I sigh. “You really are the god of sex.”

  Jasper manages a short laugh as he recovers his breath. “I have to say—I’m really glad you came over.”

  “Me, too.” In my chest, my heart beats contentedly. It’s still on the outs with my brain, which is already scolding me and overflowing with regret. A breeze floating through the open window chills my clammy skin. I reflexively pull the sheet over my breasts.

  “You know, it’s kind of a turn off when the girl you’re sleeping with gets sucked down into a vortex of self-loathing every time you have sex.”

  I bristle at the casual way he says “the girl you’re sleeping with,” until I realize that’s exactly what I am. Just like he’s “the guy I’m sleeping with.” What else would I call him? He’s certainly not my boyfriend. I’m not sure he even qualifies as a sex buddy, like Max used to be—that would require us to be friends, or at least friendly. Jasper hates me because he thinks I betrayed him. And I hate him because…

  Well, I can think of a number of reasons why I should hate him. He spiked my drinks with ambrosia, awakened my Olympian genes without asking me if it was what I wanted. He lied to me about why he came back. He tried to kill my friends. He knows what he’s been doing is wrong, but still refuses to change.

  But mostly, right now I hate him because he hates me. And because I’m supposed to. He’s the enemy.

  I’m sleeping with the enemy.

  “I’m not the only one,” I say, sitting up. “You said so yourself you regretted last night.”

  “I did, but I shouldn’t have been so hasty.” He reaches up and tucks a section of my hair behind my ear. “I like these booty calls—and I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual.” I wish I could deny it, but even now I feel the light skim of his fingers over my hair throughout my entire body. “We don’t have to like each oth
er—we don’t have to be friends—to enjoy each other’s bodies.”

  I try to look at him without getting lost in those unfathomable blue eyes. “So you still don’t believe me? You don’t trust me?”

  His mouth twitches upward in amusement. “Do you trust me?”

  I bite my lower lip, slowly shaking my head. “We shouldn’t be doing this. This can’t end well—for either of us.”

  Jasper sits up, propping his back against a pillow. “You’re the one who came over here. What made you come over, anyway?”

  I shrug, stooping to pick up my clothes. I can’t exactly tell him all of the reasons I came over—all of the things I wanted to forget, if only for an hour or two. “I don’t know. I was just…in a bad mood. I wanted to feel better.” When Jasper doesn’t say anything, I glance at him over my shoulder. My confession doesn’t have quite the effect on him I thought it would. His eyes turn stormy, clouding over, closing themselves off from me. That stubborn, childish frown is back.

  A beat later, he traces the curve of my cheek with his hand. “Do you feel better?”

  I smile in spite of myself. “That’s an understatement. I just had, like, ten orgasms.”

  He pulls away, looking pleased with himself. As I watch him get up and get dressed, I again entertain the thought of telling him about Psyche’s memories. All I have to do is say it. Release the barricade I’ve placed around them, let him probe around my mind and see that it’s true. Maybe then he would let himself believe me. Maybe he would realize I’m telling the truth about the night of the ceremony. He could trust me again.

  “What is it?” he asks quietly, drawing me out of my mental deliberation. “You look like you want to say something.”

  “Nope.” I smile thinly, without showing any teeth. “It’s nothing.” I start to get dressed under the sheet. Once my bra is on, I emerge, tugging my shirt over my head.

  “Wait a minute. What is that?” Jasper is staring at my throat. “Where did you get that?”

  “Oh, this?” I finger the necklace self-consciously. “It was Carly’s. I…I borrowed it—”

  “I don’t want you wearing it.” Jasper walks around the bed and lunges toward me, as if to grab it. I cover it with both hands. “Take it off.”

  “There is no situation in which you ever get to suggest what I can and cannot wear,” I say through gritted teeth.

  His smile is smug. “It’s not a suggestion. I’m telling you to take it off.”

  “No.” I scoot to the other side of the bed and get out that way.

  “This is not the time to be stubborn!” he shouts, keeping to his side of the room. “It’s for your own good. Take it off now because one day you might not be able to. You might not want to.”

  I relinquish my protective clutch on the pendant. Liz had said something similar only hours ago. It was getting harder and harder to take it off every night…it was calling to me…

  But then Apate’s mocking voice resurfaces: What, this piece of junk?

  “I saw Apate take hers off once,” I tell him. “She didn’t seem to have a problem.”

  “You can’t believe everything Apate shows you.”

  “I can’t believe everything you tell me, either.”

  Jasper chuckles. “Touché. Well, you can’t say I didn’t try to warn you.”

  “God, you Olympians and your stupid jewelry,” I grumble, stalking past him toward the door. “And your stupid portals, and your stupid ambrosia, and your stupid incense, and your stupid magical objects…”

  “And our stupid, insatiable sex drive,” he finishes for me, once again trapping me against the door. Then, his breath warms my ear. “Come on. You don’t have to go. Stay the night.”

  “I do have to go.” I might be saying it more for my benefit than for his. “I have…stupid homework to do.” I twist the doorknob, letting myself fall into the hallway, then quickly shut the door in his face.

  I really should go back to the house and do my work. Instead, I find myself heading for The End. Sex with Jasper helped me forget about everything else. Now, I need a drink to help me forget about him.

  There’s no live performance tonight, and The End is less crowded than usual. So I quickly spot Victoria standing at the bar, auburn ponytail bobbing as she tries to hand Lou something across the counter.

  “Do me this one favor,” she’s saying as I approach them. “Please, please, please, please, please? I’ll owe you one.”

  Lou shakes his head, waving her hand away. “I really wish I could help you out, honey. But all messages and travel have been suspended for the time being, except for emergencies. And your mother and Hef just got back from the council meeting. The walls need time to mend.”

  “This is an emergency.” Victoria tries to thrust the folded up piece of paper into his hand one more time. “My mother is ruining everything,” she adds, lowering her voice. “We need her. I need her.”

  “I want to help you out. I do. Just not today.” Lou plants his hands on the edge of the counter, turning his attention to me. “What can I get you, Psy—Siobhan?”

  “Little!” Victoria cries, her head swiveling toward me. I think I actually managed to sneak up on her. “She wants a vodka…something,” she tells Lou.

  “Actually, I was going to say I want a…okay, I want a vodka cranberry,” I admit, sitting down beside my big sister. She takes a swig from a bottle of beer.

  “Did you go for a run? It’s just your hair looks…” She scrunches her fingers in the air above her head and cringes.

  “What? No. I mean—yes. Yeah, I went running.” I hastily comb my fingers through my hair. “Thanks,” I say when Lou hands me my drink.

  “I’m off!” Lou calls over his shoulder. “You can close up tonight!”

  “Lucky me,” Jimmy says, emerging from the kitchen. He sees me, and a huge grin spreads on his face. “Of all the bars, in all of Shadesburg.”

  “I do always seem to end up at yours,” I say through an uneasy laugh. Jimmy is looking at me all googly-eyed, just like he did at the masquerade. Like our huge fight the other night never happened. I’m starting to wonder whether it did—maybe that was part of Apate’s illusion, too.

  “It is where all of the cool kids go,” Jimmy says, gesturing to a group of goths brooding over their drinks. “Have a good one!” he calls out to his boss’s back as Lou shrugs on a dark brown leather jacket. Without turning, Lou gives us a brief wave, then heads out.

  “Hello, all of you beautiful people.” Peter pops up on the other side of Victoria. “I haven’t seen you in ages,” he adds, poking her in the shoulder. “How are you, love?”

  Victoria has a fox-like smile on her face. “You.”

  “Yes. Me, Peter,” Peter says, pointing to himself. Then, he points to her. “You, Victoria.”

  “You can help me,” she clarifies. “You’re Lou’s apprentice.”

  “His apprentice?” I say enviously. “That sounds so cool. I want to be someone’s apprentice.”

  Victoria takes the crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket. “I need you to send a message for me.” Peter glues his lips together, shaking his head. “Oh, come on.”

  “I can’t,” Peter insists. “I don’t know how. Sorry, love.”

  “Yes, you can. Lou showed you how to use his…” Victoria snaps her fingers as she searches for the word. “His…shaft, didn’t he?”

  Peter balks at her. “Excuse me?”

  “His staff! I meant his staff.”

  “I’m pretty sure Lou showed him how to use his shaft, too,” Jimmy whispers to me.

  “I heard that! Okay, so maybe I do know how,” Peter says, “but I probably shouldn’t. Lou’s been kind of strict about that sort of thing lately. Only in emergencies, and all that.”

  “This is an emergency,” Victoria maintains. “One of our sorority sisters has gone missing—everything is falling apart. We need help desperately. Besides, Lou’s just being paranoid. He’s always been like that. Do you know where he keeps
it?”

  Peter nods reluctantly. “In the storage room. But it’s probably locked!”

  Jimmy takes a key chain out of his pocket. “Not a problem. Follow me.”

  We go downstairs to the basement. Bypassing the restrooms, we stop in front of a locked, unmarked door. Jimmy selects a copper key with a rounded head and opens it, yanking on a string hanging from the ceiling. A light bulb blinks on, casting a dim glow over the cement floor and dusty shelves, which are jam-packed with bulging bags and boxes.

  We squeeze inside, Jimmy closing the door behind us. The air tastes stale and musty. Peter gives the tiny, cluttered room a cursory scan.

  “It’s not here. Lou must’ve taken it home. Ah, well.” He shrugs and turns to leave.

  “Not so fast.” Victoria is leafing through a jumble of mops and brooms propped against the wall. She picks out something with a long, golden handle. “Here we go.”

  Sighing, Peter grudgingly accepts the staff and the note from her. Now that I can see it better, I realize the staff is really quite ornate: Two scaly snakes with beady emerald eyes entwine themselves around a pole, which is capped with a gold sphere and two wings. Peter reads the note silently to himself, then jabs the staff outward like a sword.

  “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” he mutters. Then, more loudly, he recites, “To the one so wise and brave: Lower the gate, dismantle the wall. Let our message pass freely—please heed our call.” As he speaks, the staff trembles slightly. The tip glows, emanating transparent waves, like the kind you see rising from the road on a hot day. There’s a sharp intake of air, and then a silver portal, the size of a quarter, appears. Peter carefully inserts the note into the portal. It slurps the paper up, then vanishes.

  Victoria holds her breath, amber-colored eyes darting around the storage room. A few beats later, her shoulders relax. “See? We had nothing to worry about.”

  “Famous last words,” Jimmy says. This time we all hesitate, silently waiting for something catastrophic to happen. When it seems we’ve gotten away with it, Jimmy turns off the light and locks up, and we go upstairs.