by S. L. Stacy
“Oh, yes. Ares made sure that my prison was somewhere that would strike a chord in both of us. As long as I’m here, she’ll do anything he says.”
The imitation spring air feels abruptly chilly. I rub both of my arms, wishing I had a sweater. As soon as I think it, I wonder if Dolos will manifest one. Instead, he unwinds himself, motioning to me. After only a moment’s hesitation, I scoot over and lean into his chest, resting my head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around me.
“Here I thought I was the one helping you,” I tell him.
“We can help each other.” He presses a kiss into my hair, then quickly pulls up. “Sorry.”
I lift my head to look at him. “It’s okay.” I tentatively smooth an errant strand of his white blonde hair away from his green eyes. As I bring my hand down, I let my finger trail softly down his cheek, across his jaw. He draws me further into his arms and lowers his lips to mine.
At first, his lips are cold, like the wind sweeping through the garden, perturbing the ruffles of my dress. As our kisses deepen, everything starts to feel warm and wonderful.
“I wish this was real,” I murmur against his lips.
He breaks the kiss so he can meet my gaze. “The feelings are. As in…my feelings for you are real.” He smiles ironically. “Fate can be a bitch, but I’m glad She brought us together.”
I frown. “You know it wasn’t fate. This was orchestrated. I was brought here so Jasper could be brought back to Earth.”
“It was Fate that it was you,” he insists. “I wouldn’t have fallen in love with just anyone who was dropped into Pandora.”
“You…you love me?”
Even though I’m sure he can hear the doubt in my voice, he merely says, “Yes, Carly. I love you.”
The Olympians are so overdramatic. “You can’t possibly…” I’m ready to argue how he can’t be in love with me, how he doesn’t even know me that well. But he’s been down here for a long time—has been fighting to maintain our imaginary world since I got here—and he’s only getting weaker. Maybe he could even die here. I don’t know if he has much time left, and I refuse to shatter his fantasy. “I’ve come to care about you, too,” I tell him.
Dolos smiles with relief. When he leans in for another kiss, I put a finger to his lips. “Wait. Let me see you.”
He raises a suggestive eyebrow. “And here I thought you’d want to take things slow.”
“Oh, God,” I say, shaking my head. “Not that. I mean, let me see you. I know this is just a disguise.”
His smile falters. “You don’t want him. He’s a wimp.”
“I want you.” I give his shoulders a small shake. “The real you.”
Nothing happens right away, and I think I can feel him pulling away from me. Just as I’ve convinced myself that I’ve lost him, I look into the same two, brilliant green eyes—only now they belong to my “guide,” the young man with a pale, narrow face and short obsidian hair. The real Dolos. He’s not quite as handsome or muscular as his devilish alter ego, but, like Dolos said himself only moments ago, the feelings for me emanating from his entire being are overwhelmingly real.
“Now, kiss me,” I say, and, in a sudden burst of confidence, I take both sides of his face in my hands and press my lips to his.
***
Later, I lay in Dolos’s arms on a replica of my bed, in my room at the sorority house—well, it’s sort of my room. It seems to be about the same size, but Victoria’s stuff isn’t here. With my head resting on his chest, I hear his heart beating. After a long, heated make out session, I’m feeling drowsy and happy, but past experience has told me he may not be feeling the same way.
I shift my head to meet his gaze. “This can’t be working for you.”
“What, holding a beautiful girl in my arms?” He pretends to heave a bitter sigh. “Yes, it’s awful.”
“The kissing and the cuddling.” I trace circles on the bare skin of his chest with my finger. “You must want more from me.”
Dolos stops my roaming hand with his, gently clasping my fingers. “Of course I want you, Carly. But I don’t think you’re ready for that. Am I wrong?”
Shaking my head, I say, “I should be. It’s just a dream, anyway. If I can’t even go through with it in a dream—”
“Someday we’ll be together, and it won’t be a dream,” he promises me, stroking my hair. “And you’ll be ready. I just want you to feel safe with me.”
“I do,” I tell him. I feel different around Dolos than I did with Alec—I’m different. Even though I was in love with Alec, or at least thought I was, something was always off. I think he loved me, too, but I also think my reluctance frustrated him enough to resent me. With Dolos, now that all of his walls are down, I feel safe and cared for. I know that I matter to him just as much as he’s starting to matter to me.
“I want to give you everything, Carly,” he says, giving my back a squeeze. “I would give you the stars if I could.”
Well, maybe my feelings still have a little catching up to do. “That’s corny,” I tease him.
“I mean it.”
“I know.” I yawn as sleep pushes my eyelids down. “But right now, I just want to sleep.” I let myself slip away from him, giving into the blackness of sleep—
“No!” His panicked voice cuts through my peaceful slumber. “Carly—do not go to sleep.”
My eyes flutter open. “But I’m just so…tired.” My mind might be fuzzy with fatigue, but I still don’t see what the big deal is. I’ve “fallen asleep” before in the simulation.
“You just…can’t this time, okay?” Dolos’s glittering eyes bore desperately into mine. They’re always glittering, but this time it’s not just their otherworldly brilliance. They’re filling with tears. “Don’t go to sleep.”
Wide awake now, I sit straight up in the bed. “I knew there was something else—something you were keeping from me. Tell me what it is, Dolos.”
He bites his lip, shakes his head. His cheekbones look thinner than usual, his complexion even ghostlier. “Just don’t fall asleep.”
I stroke his cheek with the back of my hand. “Take us back to the throne room. It seems like it uses up less of your strength. You’ve been down here a long time, Dolos. I think—I’m afraid you might be dying.”
To my surprise, he laughs. It’s a chilling sound, filled with misery and irony. “I wish that were true.”
“Don’t say that!”
“Carly I…” He looks away from me, barely able to choke out the words. “I’m not the one who’s in trouble here.”
And that’s all he needs to say. Now I understand. He’s not weaker because he’s been trapped here for so long or because he’s struggling to hold up the illusion. Sure, those things are contributing, but they’re not the cause of his recent exhaustion. He’s using up every ounce of his energy to give me strength—to alleviate the pain I must be feeling as I hang, suspended in the abyss, dying.
“Stop it,” I plead with him. “It’s hurting you.”
He shakes his head. “I won’t. I can’t. If I did, you would realize what’s happening to you. Would feel everything.”
“Am I really dying?”
“I can’t be sure, but I…I think so. I’ve been worried about it since you got here. I don’t think a human or even a halfling has ever been down here before. You’re weakening at a much faster rate than I am—than any of my brothers and sisters did when they were here. Your body is shutting down. It’s painful and torturous.” He loops his fingers through mine. “I won’t let you go through that.”
“But I—I don’t want to die!” I shriek. My face spasms as I start to cry. “I thought I didn’t have to worry about that anymore!” And now, without a soul, I’ll just disappear, scatter—like ashes on the wind. Except even a speck of dust has substance. It’ll be like I never existed at all.
“I know.” He takes me in his arms and kisses away my tears. “Don’t think about it.”
“It’s kind of hard not
to—”
“But you can’t. Just let it go.” He trails a series of kisses down my neck, sending little pulses of heat and excitement through me. “Be here. With me.”
He brings his lips to mine, and I let him kiss me again, and again. I give into the fantasy, and try not to think about what’s happening beyond its fragile walls.
Chapter 26
Victoria, Max and I stand in the middle of a busy sidewalk in downtown Shadesburg, looking up at the Penrose Luxury Apartments building.
“This is where Eric lives?” I ask.
Victoria nods. “That’s what Anna told me. He has the penthouse on the top floor.”
“You saved her life, so you’re like best friends now? You tell each other everything?”
Laughing, she says, “Okay, so maybe she didn’t exactly tell me—at least not out loud. I thought it could be useful information. I just never thought we’d need it this soon.”
Max shields his eyes from the late day sun, squinting at the topmost row of windows. “For all we know, he could be up there right now.”
“I don’t think so,” Victoria assures him. “I’m not sensing him.”
“Let’s go, then,” I say, bouncing up and down on my feet. I just want to rescue Vanessa and get the heck out of here. After what happened at the art show, I should have seen this coming. And what was it Dr. Mars said this morning? “A seer on Olympus told me that I was going to fail because of you—something your little friend has, to her own ruin, confirmed.” I was too absorbed in my own quarrel with Dr. Mars to pick up on the insinuation.
I feel for the handle of my dagger underneath my t-shirt, swiping it from where it’s wedged between my belt and my jeans. Victoria told me to bring it, just in case. I can’t imagine I’ll need it, but it does make me feel safer. You know, unless it slips out and stabs my foot. I unsheathe it, sunlight sparking off the silver blade. Dried streaks of my blood still run along the sharp edges. Wiping it hastily on my jeans, I slide the sheath back on and tuck it back in my belt.
A woman with lots of hair sprayed brown hair and wearing a black power suit strides out of the front door. Victoria quickly grabs the door before it can close, and the three of us walk casually inside. We take the elevator to the fifteenth floor.
Max and I hang back while Victoria strides up to Eric’s door. There’s an electronic pad on the adjacent wall requiring a passcode.
“Thanks for doing this,” Max says to me while Victoria punches something into the keypad. He puts his hand on my forearm. I shrug it off.
“I’m not doing this for you,” I remind him. “I’m doing it because I want to help Vanessa.”
“I know. I’m just saying thank you. You know, ever since I met you, I’ve gotten all mixed up in this supernatural stuff.”
“You didn’t have to,” I tell him. “You didn’t have to go out with me.” But you wanted to because of your stupid wing fetish, I want to add. “You didn’t have to join Sigma Iota, either.”
“But somehow, I’m always the one who ends up getting hurt,” he continues as though I didn’t say anything. “Or someone I care about does.” His usually easy-going blue eyes seem to peer inside me as he looks me up and down. “Maybe you were right all along. Maybe your wings are an abomination.”
“How can you—” I gasp, the rest of the sentence catching in my throat when he runs a forceful hand across my shoulder blades. A chill touches my spine. This time, I grab his arm and throw it off me. “Don’t touch me.” We both shudder as something clicks. Victoria eases the door open. She pokes her head inside. “It’s clear.” She sneaks the rest of the way in, followed by me, then Max, who’s keeping much closer to me than I’d like.
While Jasper, with his efficiency apartment and used stationwagon, isn’t living beyond his doctoral stipend, Eric has the penthouse of a corporate executive, not a history professor. His spacious living room contains a black leather sofa and chairs, shiny dark wood surfaces, an 84-inch LCD television mounted on the wall, a grandfather clock and a concert grand piano. I wonder if he actually plays it, or if he just likes big stuff.
“This place is huge,” Max says in awe as he explores the living room. He stops and studies a large painting of a naked woman with long reddish hair standing in a seashell. “This is Botticelli. The Birth of Venus. It looks like the original!”
“It can’t be,” I say, wondering how Anna feels about Eric having a painting inspired by his ex-lover displayed so prominently on the wall. “The original is probably hanging in a gallery somewhere.”
Max doesn’t look convinced. “Professors are always whining about how they don’t make any money. How can he afford all this stuff?”
“Keep it down!” Victoria says in a loud whisper. “Come on.” We bypass a sliding glass door that leads to a balcony overlooking the city and venture further into the penthouse.
“Maybe one of us should stay behind to keep watch,” Max suggests.
“Good idea. Go ahead,” I tell him.
“She’s my cousin. You go.”
Victoria heaves an annoyed sigh. “We don’t need anyone to keep watch. We’re sticking together.”
The living room connects to an equally grand kitchen, its black marble countertops and sleek, silver appliances looking clean and unused. I watch our shoes as we clop over the glossy white linoleum tiles, making sure we’re not leaving behind dirty footprints.
Victoria brings a finger to her lips. “Do you hear that?”
Max and I stop to listen. Silence permeates the apartment.
“Um, no,” I admit.
From the kitchen, a corridor branches off into two wings. At the end of the hall to our left, I see a cracked door and what might be the foot of a bed on the other side. Listening intently, Victoria quietly beckons us to the right. We pass a white and chrome bathroom and a few locked doors. Victoria whisks by them all, only stopping in front of the door at the very end of the hall. There’s another electronic pad beside it.
“This is it,” my big sister says with certainty as she types in the password.
“Hold on, Vanessa.” Max places his hands on the closed door. “We’re coming.”
“Security is pretty tight here,” I say. “Eric must be really worried about what’s behind this door.”
“Would you want someone to find out you were kidnapping college girls?” The flickering red light on the pad turns a steady green. When Victoria tries the handle, it opens easily, revealing a spacious room with padded, soundproof walls. Most of the furniture is draped with heavy, white cloths, except for the cage on the floor that looks large enough to hold a large dog and give him some wiggle room.
But not quite large enough for the girl currently sitting hunched over inside of it.
“Vanessa!” Max races up to the cage, getting on his knees so he can be eye-level with his cousin.
“Max?” Vanessa looks at him through watery eyes, forehead knotted in confusion. “What are you doing here?”
“Don’t worry, Vanessa. We’re going to get you out of here.” He jiggles the padlock on the cage. “Anyone see a key?”
“The dagger,” Victoria instructs me. I fumble it out of my belt and unsheathe it. “Bring it down as hard as you can on the lock. It’ll work—trust me,” she says, smirking at my doubtful expression.
“Move,” I snap at Max. He glares at me but crawls out of the way. Lifting the dagger above my head, I swing it through the air like I’m chopping wood. With a metallic hiss, it slices cleanly through the padlock. The cage door squeaks open.
Max scoots back over. “Come on,” he urges his cousin softly, letting her use him as a crutch as she stiffly emerges from the cage. “That’s it. Easy now. You’re okay. You’re okay.”
“Max,” she wails into his shoulder, clinging to him like a child. Her skinny jeans and new Delta Chi house letters are torn and streaked with dirt. There’s dried blood caked on her neck and arms. “He’s mad about the prophecy, Max. He wanted me to tell him something different—tha
t it changed—but I couldn’t.”
“You don’t have to explain right now.” Max strokes her tangled brown hair. “Just relax. We’re getting you out of here.”
“It doesn’t matter which future.” Vanessa turns suddenly to me, shaking her head sadly. “It’s always the same. Always the same.”
“I know,” I mutter, covering the dagger and easing it underneath my belt. “I die, and I don’t come back.” I pretend I don’t notice the concerned look Victoria’s giving me.
“But we were wrong,” Vanessa babbles on. “The danger’s in the water. The danger’s in the water!”
“What do you mean?”
“What do you think she means?” Victoria interrupts. “She’s talking about the Alpha Rhos.”
“I don’t think—”
A giant thud almost sends my consciousness flying out of my body. For a moment, I think I’m watching myself, Max and Victoria shudder as cage bars rattle behind one of the white cloths.
“What the hell was that?” Max cries, readjusting his grip on Vanessa, who is too distracted by her own ramblings to notice the commotion.
“There’s someone else here,” I say, taking a few urgent steps toward the thrashing veil.
Victoria snatches my arm. “Not now. We have to go.”
“But there’s someone else here!” Unlike Max’s, I can’t pull away from my big sister’s strong grip. “It could be Carly!”
She shakes her head sadly. “It’s not.”
“Then who is it?”
“I—I’m not sure.” Victoria shifts her gaze to the floor. She finally lets me have my arm back. “But I would know if it was Carly.”
“We should help them anyway,” I tell her.
“I wish we could, but we can’t—at least not today. Someone’s coming. We have to get out of here.” Victoria wraps her arms around Vanessa and pulls her off of Max, who makes a noise of protest. “I’m flying her back to campus. You two can take the bus back.”
“But she’s my—”