Reborn Series Box Set (Books 1-3.5)

by S. L. Stacy

  “They want to send you back!” Eric calls after me. Reluctantly, I pause and turn back around. It only takes him a few long, swift strides to catch up with me. “The Gammas aren’t your friends. Once they’re back on their feet, the first thing they’ll do is send you and your sister back.”

  “They just rescued me from Pandora,” I remind him. “I really don’t think they’re going to expend the energy to send me back there.”

  “Not Pandora—Olympus. Home.”

  A shiver runs through me at the thought of going home, of seeing my father—and, worse, my mother—again, but I manage a wry tone when I reply, “Oh, no, not home. Please, no. Anything but that.”

  “You wouldn’t be making jokes about it if you knew what was waiting for you there.”

  “The suspense is killing me.”

  “The Elder Council is planning to punish you and Apate. You’ll stand trial for treason.” Eric pauses to let his words take effect. Colder than the autumn wind, they seep through my jacket and crawl under my skin, chilling me to the very bone. I wish I could tell him he’s wrong—that the council would have mercy on us. But I know he’s right. My sister had told me pretty much the same thing. There might be the pretense of a trial, but ultimately, treason is punishable by death.

  “They’re going to kill us,” I realize. Any last vestige of hope inside of me starts to fade, like the final glowing embers of a fire that’s been stomped out.

  Eric gives a sympathetic nod. “They’ve been hardly waiting to get rid of you. Now, at least, they have a seemingly legitimate reason.”

  “But…why would they want to get rid of us?” My eyes are burning, almost like I’m about to cry. I do everything I can to hold the tears back, not wanting them to spill in front of Eric. Earlier tonight, I saw two young boys playing, the bigger one pushing the other so hard he fell and scraped his knee. When he started crying, his friend called him a “wuss.” I don’t want Eric to think I’m a wuss.

  “They’re afraid of you,” he explains. “You and your sister are so…special. So dangerous. With your abilities, you could drive even the most powerful Olympian to the brink of madness.”

  “But we wouldn’t do that!”

  “I know that, but they think you would. They’re afraid of you. Nothing scares them more than losing control. With you out of the picture, they won’t have to worry anymore that, one day, you’ll realize just how powerful you are. That power is the exact thing you crave—and you can take it from them.”

  There’s an animal cry of protest at our feet. Wrapped up in my conversation with Eric, I had almost forgotten my sister. With her new black fur, she blends in with the night, save for her bright eyes. I reach out to her with my mind, only to meet an impenetrable wall blocking me from touching her thoughts. Our mental bond isn’t working with her in this form.

  “We don’t want that kind of power,” I insist, looking back up at Eric. “And I don’t believe they’ve always wanted us dead. You’re lying.”

  The self-assured smile gone from his face, he regards me sadly. “I wish I was.”

  “You know what? It doesn’t matter.” I shake my head, feeling determined once again. “My answer is still no. I won’t do this to Carly.”

  “Forget about Carly. She’s already forgotten about you,” Eric says gently.

  I see Carly’s lovely face in my mind, and the way it lit up when she looked at her date earlier tonight. I think about our final moments together in Pandora—about the things I said, that I wish I could take back. Agony floods me, dousing those tiny embers of hope until they’re a heap of gray ash. “She has.”

  “Women like Carly…they’ll never fall for guys like us. Carly’s like…the sun”—Eric lifts his arms skyward—“shining down on us from the heavens. And you’re like a vine, creeping along the ground, where her rays can’t reach.” He places a firm, consoling hand on my shoulder. “We’re the outsiders, Dolos. The outcasts. We belong to the night and the shadows.”

  I feel myself nodding and, unable to hold myself up anymore, fall against him. Eric hugs me, and, although my father never did, I imagine this is what his embrace might have felt like—heavy, strong and steady. Below us, Apate moans, lodging herself in between our legs as though to drive us apart. After a time, Eric releases me, pulling back to look into my face as he says, “I knew I could count on you.”

  After Eric leaves, I look down at my sister, who has grown quiet. We regard each other silently for a while and, although I still can’t read her thoughts, I can see her look at me disapprovingly through the creature’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her, voice cracking. “I don’t know what else to do. You heard what Eric said. We’re in danger. I have to do what he says. I have to protect us. Apate,” I cry out as the little beast turns around. “Don’t go. Please. Apate!” She ignores my pleas, running off into the night, leaving me alone to wallow in my grief and shame.

  I sit down on the cold ground, feeling dazed. Although the sky above me is pitch black, the amusement park is still alive with light, music and laughter. The lights keep flashing and blinking, as the wheel ride keeps turning—around, and around, and around, and around—until soon the whole world is spinning, the colors melting together as the tears finally come.

  Part One

  Princess

  “Though rooted fast, towards the sun she turns;

  her shape is changed, but still her passion burns.”

  –Ovid, Metamorphoses

  Chapter 1

  “Lower your elbow,” Alec says. Placing one hand on my waist, he gently coaxes my elbow down with the other. I stiffen under the intimate contact, and he pulls away quickly, taking a step to the side. “You were never going to hit any with your arm sticking out like that.”

  Smiling, I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. “It’s just balloon darts, Alec.”

  He sighs, crossing his arms. “I know. Sorry. I have a bit of a competitive streak, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “I haven’t.” Returning my gaze to the wall of brightly colored balloons, I align the tip of the dart with a red one in the upper right corner. With a flick of my wrist, I send the dart whizzing toward my target—and straight into the empty patch of corkboard next to it. The next two meet the same fate.

  “Fudge,” I say, throwing my arms up in defeat. “There goes my career as a professional darts player. Your turn.”

  Alec scoops up three additional darts from the counter and assumes a wide-legged stance, expertly lining up the first dart with the board. He pulls his arm back and snaps it forward again, the dart a silver and black blur as it flies through the air. It bounces off the board, dropping to the ground.

  “I may have used a little too much force,” he admits.

  I nod in agreement. “Just a little.”

  His second dart doesn’t fare much better, getting lodged in the corkboard like all three of mine did. “Maybe you should just stick to football,” I tell him.

  As if to prove me wrong, the third successfully punctures a blue balloon with a loud pop that makes me jump, even though I saw it coming.

  Alec pumps his fist. “Score!”

  Rolling his eyes, the attendant turns to check the tag underneath the shriveled remains of the balloon. After rummaging underneath the counter, he tosses a neon orange bouncy ball in Alec’s direction. Alec catches it in one hand, promptly dropping it into mine. “I was hoping to win you a giant stuffed animal, but I guess this will have to do.”

  “I will cherish it always,” I say, stuffing it into my pocket.

  “Another round?” the attendant asks us, looking hopeful as he holds up three more darts. Alec and I glance at each other, then back at the attendant, shaking our heads politely. Heaving a sigh, he turns his back to us, moving to replace the broken balloon.

  “Want to get a bite?” Alec asks me as we walk away from the game booth.

  I shake my head. “I’m not really that hungry. I think the cotton candy ruined my dinner.
”

  “Okay. Let’s at least go on some rides, then.”

  “Not tonight. I should probably get going,” I realize, checking the time on my cell phone.

  “Come on. One ride. How about the Iron Demon?”

  “I hate roller coasters…in case you’ve forgotten,” I add with a smirk.

  He gives an apologetic shrug. “I kind of did. The haunted house, then,” he suggests, pointing behind me.

  “No way. It’s too creepy,” I tell him, shivering at the mere thought of it. The haunted house consists of five or so dark, eerie rooms where an assortment of hideous characters lurk in the shadows, waiting to jump out and scare you. From the outside, it looks like an old, black clapboard house where an evil witch might live. I picture her inside, hunched over a large cauldron filled with a bubbling green potion. She kicks back her head and cackles, and I can almost hear the maniacal sound of it spilling from the windows, echoing in the empty alley beyond.

  Alec sounds exasperated when he says, “It’s meant to scare little kids. Not us.”

  “There’s a room full of clowns, Alec. Clowns. I’m not going in there.”

  “Never mind. Sorry I mentioned it.” I catch him rolling his eyes before he turns away from me. “So, no roller coasters, and no haunted houses. Then how about the…”

  His words become background noise as I stare into the alley next to the house—looking for what, I don’t know. The lights from the rides don’t seem to reach this corner of the park, where shadows gather like a thick, dark fog. But if I look hard enough, I can almost see the faint silhouettes of three people through the haze. Another shiver runs down my spine, but this time it’s not from fear, or even the cold autumn air. Anticipation coursing through me, I take a reflexive step toward the alley.

  “Carly?” Alec puts a hand on my shoulder. “You okay?” His concerned voice breaks the trance. Shaking myself, I look up at him, smiling.

  “I’m fine,” I insist. “It’s getting late. Let’s just go.” As we walk away, I take one last look at the alley, but the figures I thought I saw in the shadows are gone. Feeling strangely disappointed, I turn back around.

  “I’m sorry about before. At the dart game,” Alec says. I assume he’s talking about that brief, awkward moment when he tried to adjust my throwing arm. “It was habit. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

  “It’s okay,” I assure him. “I can understand that. It hasn’t been that long since…” I trail off, watching our shoes hit the pavement in sync as we walk through the amusement park. Waves of patrons stream past us in the opposite direction, talking and laughing loudly, cotton candy in hand.

  “No, it hasn’t,” he agrees. “Carly, I…” When I look over at him, he’s avoiding my gaze, kicking a chunk of gravel along as we walk.

  “Alec.” I stop in the middle of the street, forcing a couple of kids to go around us. “Why did you ask me here tonight?”

  Alec pauses and holds my gaze steady. “I…I guess I just thought that maybe…” He takes a step closer to me. “I still care about you, Carly. I want to get back together. I—I thought you might want the same thing.”

  At first, I’m too stunned to speak. I shake my head slowly, sounding apologetic but firm when I finally say, “No. I’m sorry, Alec, but I don’t.”

  “No,” he echoes sadly. “Well, I guess I sort of expected that. But I have to ask—why?”

  “Why?” Feeling flustered, I try to remember why I even agreed to meet Alec at Playland in the first place. I should have realized when he “wanted to talk,” it was about getting back together. Instead of thinking it through, I had jumped at the opportunity to get out of the sorority house, which I hadn’t left in days. Hot, angry tears sting the backs of my eyes, ready to burn their way down my cheeks. “You can’t be serious. You dumped me in front of the entire Greek Quad—then had the nerve to ask for your lavalier back.”

  “Carly, I was trying to—”

  “And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, your fraternity sacrificed me to bring one of your brothers back!” I didn’t know it at the time—didn’t know why the Sigma Iota brothers lured me to their basement and forced me through the portal that took me to Pandora, the space between universes. It wasn’t until later that I found out it was an exchange, a way to bring one of their leaders back from Olympus while maintaining the balance between our worlds.

  “Yes, my fraternity! Not me!” He takes a step closer to me. I remember a time not so long ago when he would come up to me and scoop me into his arms, and I would rest my head on one of his broad shoulders. Now, he leaves a sliver of space between us, a few feet that feel like a mile. His golden skin looks paler than usual, pulled tightly across angular cheekbones. He lifts his hands as though to reach for mine, then brings them back to his sides. His dark eyes fill with tears. “I tried to stop them, Carly.”

  “What about afterwards? You didn’t come after me or even try to get help. You weren’t at the ritual when the others came to rescue me—”

  “I had no idea they were going after you—”

  “Stop it!” I shriek. A few of the people standing in line at the rubber duck game look over at us curiously. “Stop making excuses,” I say, lowering my voice. “There’s nothing you can say to make this better.”

  Alec nods, seeming to accept this. “I get it. I do, and I’m…sorry. I really am sorry.”

  “Me, too.” I shudder as a biting wind blows through the park, cutting through my denim jacket. It whips a lock of Alec’s black hair across his forehead. I dig my hands into my pockets, resisting the impulse to smooth it back.

  “I shouldn’t have asked you out tonight,” he continues. “I should have known…plus, if my brothers find out…” He glances over his shoulder as though expecting one of his Sigma Iota brothers to appear behind him.

  “I won’t tell if you won’t. Well, I guess I’ll see you around,” I say, turning to go.

  “Just tell me,” Alec says, and I turn back around to face him, “there isn’t someone else.”

  I roll my eyes. “Because the only possible reason I could have of not getting back together with you is that I met someone.”

  He sighs in frustration. “That’s not what I meant.”

  I open my mouth, entertaining, for a moment, the idea of telling him everything about my time in Pandora—about the other prisoner, my only companion in that dark, never-ending abyss. Then, the final words he spoke to me resurface, piercing through me all over again like a flurry of tiny darts.

  “I’m a liar, Carly. You said so yourself. And you were right all along…I tricked you. I wanted to play with you a little while longer. And you let me…”

  I shake my head. “No. There’s no one else.”

  Alec looks relieved. “There’s no one else in my life, either.”

  “I hope you find someone, Alec,” I tell him, my voice small. “I hope one day you find her—the woman of your dreams.”

  “I hope you find the woman of your dreams, too,” Alec says in a half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood.

  I laugh despite myself. “And I hope one day we can be friends. You know, when our houses stop this whole mortal enemies thing.”

  He nods. “No matter what happens, I consider you a friend, Carly.”

  “Goodbye, Alec.” Unsure of what else to say, I leave him standing next to the booth with the rubber duck game, feeling his eyes on me as I walk away.

  I head back toward the park entrance, passing other game booths and rides along the way. Lights flash all around me, brightening the night sky in brief bursts of color. The late night crowd at Playland is mostly composed of people on dates and cliques of rowdy teenagers. Like the group currently loitering off to one side of the arched entryway. The boys are wearing shirts with band or beer logos on the front, pants hanging loose over their boxers. The girls have on shiny tops that don’t come down quite far enough over their form-fitting leggings. None of them are wearing jackets, preferring to look cool over appropriately dr
essed for the middle of October.

  I feel wistful as I watch them talking and laughing, passing a large bag of kettle corn back and forth. I missed out on those carefree years, my adolescence filled with secrets and silence instead of friendships and laughter. Back then, I felt older than my sixteen years, already jaded. Now, watching this group of teenagers, I realize just how young I really was.

  “BOO!” a voice bellows in my ear. I jump, letting out a scream to rival those coming from the Iron Demon, and spin around to find a figure in a black, hooded cloak looking just as startled as I am.

  “Someone’s a little jumpy,” a muffled male voice says from behind the hood. Shaking his head, he walks away to join the zombie smoking a cigarette over by the ticket booth. The teens with the kettle corn are pointing at me, laughing. Heat rises to my cheeks, and I look away from them. I had forgotten Playland was in the midst of Scarefest, its month-long Halloween event. The zombie and the grim reaper must work at the haunted house.

  Glancing around for an escape route, I spot a dark purple tent across the way, the signpost outside of it advertising:

  Madam Moira

  World-renowned fortuneteller

  Divines your future for a $10 donation

  I crack a smile at the word “donation.” Nevertheless, I hurry in that direction, avoiding the amused glances and mocking laughter still being thrown my way. For ten bucks, I’m not sure Madam Moira could tell me all that much, but maybe she could at least tell me if I’m going to ace the Concepts of Math midterm I haven’t studied for.

  I slip inside the tent to find a hunched figure, draped in a midnight blue cloak, sitting at a foldout table littered with flickering black candles. Directly in front of her is a crystal ball mounted on an iron stand, seeming to emanate a light of its own.

  “Who dares to disturb the meditation of Madam Moira?” a dramatic voice says from beneath the cloak. A hand rises to knock back the hood, revealing a tumble of black curls and two dark brown eyes set in an olive-toned face. Madam Moira gestures for me to sit, her large gold hoop earrings swaying from the movement. I take the other chair quickly.