Reborn Series Box Set (Books 1-3.5)

by S. L. Stacy

  He walks back over to me, brow furrowed. “Um, helping you out?”

  “But you’re betraying your brothers. Not to mention going against orders.” I look at him sadly. “Alec, you can’t go against them. Not for me. They’ll punish you.”

  Alec looks perplexed. “This is my choice, Carly. I’m choosing good.” He takes both of my hands in his, which are slick with sweat. “I’m choosing you.” Our eyes lock for a moment—his dark with determination, mine probably still showing my confusion.

  Suddenly, his eyes widen, mouth falling open as his face goes white with shock. I look down just in time to see the tip of a blade poking through his abdomen before it’s drawn back out. Alec crumples forward, shuddering with pain, blood pumping from the wound in an endless stream. I let him fall against me, and we both sink to the ground, Alec shaking, me holding him.

  “You should have listened to your girlfriend.” I look up at the sound of Dolos’s voice. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him sound so cold, so ruthless. He stands over us, the wind fluttering the hem of his military-style coat, brandishing Godslayer, now coated with Alec’s blood. “We don’t tolerate traitors.”

  Alec looks at me, lower lip trembling, tears streaming from his eyes. “C-Carly?”

  “I’m here,” I assure him, wrapping my arms more tightly around him. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here.” Leaning my head on one of his broad shoulders, I close my eyes, letting my own tears pepper his coat collar. One second, I’m squeezing the back of his jacket, the soft leather cool and smooth under my fingers. The next, I don’t feel anything in my arms anymore. The pressure of his body is gone, and as my tears fall, they meet nothing but air.

  I open my eyes to find that it’s true. Alec is gone. I look around, but there’s no trace of him anywhere, not even a stray strand of black hair.

  Victoria had told us once that, when an Olympian or halfling dies, they vanish. Nothing—not even one, measly cell—is left behind. It’s like they never existed at all. This is the first time I’m seeing it for myself, though. And, no matter the conflict Alec and I may have had in recent weeks, I would never have wished this on him. I will never wave to him from across the Greek Quad again. Never hear the sound of his voice, saying my name with a grin on his face. Never look into his dark eyes, shining with love.

  “You killed him.” I know I’m stating the obvious, but it’s the only thing I can manage as I rise to my feet, meeting Dolos’s aloof gaze.

  He shrugs. “Like I said. Traitors don’t get second chances. You betray me, you die. What?” he asks, annoyed, when I just stare at him in disbelief.

  “That’s not why you killed him.” Studying his face, I can see it now, lurking just behind his façade of cool indifference. Envy sparks in his already impossibly green eyes. “You were jealous.”

  “Jealous of some wimpy college kid?” He rolls his eyes. “Give me more credit than that.”

  “No. You’re jealous,” I insist. “You told him he should have listened to his girlfriend. You hate it that we were together. You’ve probably wanted him out of the picture for a while. This just gave you an excuse. If you can’t have me, nobody else can.”

  Dolos sheaths the sword, tucking it into his belt; as he does so, I notice the fanny pack is still clasped around his waist. He gives me a playfully reprimanding look. “You’re being a little full of yourself.”

  “You can deny it all you want. I know I’m right.”

  I take a deep breath, composing myself for what I’m about to tell him. “I have to admit something. Until this moment, I held out hope. It was just a little bit of hope—but it was there. Hope that there was still a spark of the old you somewhere inside, however faint.” I look away from him, shaking my head. “Hope that that Dolos was still on my side—and that he had some sort of plan. That the goodness in you would win out, in the end.

  “But now I can see that there isn’t any, and I feel…ashamed of myself. That I could be so naïve. I guess that gets me into trouble a lot,” I realize with a wry laugh, looking back over at him. “It’s just that it’s so hard for me to trust people, and I wanted so badly to be able to trust you. Wanted so badly to believe you when you said I could. But this…this was unforgiveable. I watched you kill someone. Someone I cared about. I can forgive a lot of things, but not that. I will never forgive you for killing Alec. Never.”

  If my proclamation has any effect on Dolos, he doesn’t show it. He just shrugs again, throwing his hands in the air. “I’m sorry you held onto that last bit of hope, Carly. You shouldn’t have. I thought I had made my alliances pretty clear. I didn’t think it would take me killing Alec to get it through to you. And, in a way, his death really isn’t my fault. It’s yours.”

  “It is not,” I snap. Even though the rational part of me knows Dolos is full of crap, I can’t deny the pang of regret already shooting though me.

  “What were you doing here, anyway? You should have been helping your friends fend off my soldiers. Instead, you were over here getting captured. If Alec hadn’t been forced to intervene, he might still be alive.”

  “Maybe for a little while longer,” I admit. “But you would have found another excuse to kill him. It’s your fault I came over here in the first place. I thought I saw you skulking around.”

  “Skulking? I don’t skulk,” he scoffs.

  “So I followed you.” I take a step closer to him. “I want my stuff back.”

  Dolos considers this for a moment. “Okay.”

  I give him a doubtful look. “Okay? So this means you’ll give me my bag back?”

  “Sure.” There’s a glimmer of mischief in his eyes as he says, “You’re just going to have to catch me, first.”

  Chapter 18

  Turning on his heel, Dolos takes off, black leather coat billowing out behind him. “Catch me if you can!” he shouts over his shoulder. Throwing his head back, he laughs, the maniacal sound of it echoing in the empty amusement park.

  I lose a few precious seconds just standing there, dumbfounded, watching him put more and more distance between us.

  “Shoot,” I grumble, lurching into motion. I pump my legs as hard as I can, trying to catch up to him. After only a few minutes, they start to ache in protest, but I press on, steadily closing the gap between us.

  Did I mention I hate running?

  At the Ferris wheel, Dolos slows to a stop, ducking behind the controls and turning it on. As the ride starts to move, he leaps into one of the passenger cars.

  “I don’t think so,” I pant, reaching the ride a few seconds later, his car already climbing higher and higher into the air. I push the lever down to turn it off, but Dolos simply jumps out of the capsule, grabbing the edge of the seat of the one above him and pulling himself onto it. He does it again with the next car, and the one after that, as quick and agile as an acrobat.

  “So what’s your plan?” I call up, stalling as I scan the ride, trying to figure out my next move. “You’re just going to hang out up there for the rest of the night?”

  “If I have to!” he shouts back, plopping down into the topmost car. “Why don’t you fly on up here and join me? The view is spectacular! Oh wait…you can’t.” He smirks down at me.

  “Don’t mind if I do!” I may not be able to fly at the moment, but Dolos himself just proved you don’t need a pair of wings to get up there. Steeling myself, I grab onto the vertical bar connecting the ground level car to the rest of the ride, wrapping my legs around it and hoisting myself up. As I slowly but steadily crawl upwards, I flashback to rope climbing in gym class. I never did make it very far up.

  Pushing aside the memory, I reach out carefully with one hand, then the other, pulling myself onto the next set of bars. As I get a shaky foothold on them, I’m already reaching for the next. Building up a rhythm, I scale the inside of the Ferris wheel, running on pure adrenaline and desperation. Dolos leans over from his perch at the top, watching me with interest.

  “You must really want this bag!” His t
one is mocking, but he starts to look genuinely nervous as I get closer and closer to the top. Seeming to recover himself, he jumps down from his seat to the passenger car below. His landing is less graceful this time, the capsule jerking around upon impact. Foot slipping, he throws his arms out, steadying himself.

  “Oh, no, you don’t!” I change course, scrambling toward him as he continues to leap down from one car to the next. He’s about a fourth of the way down when I finally catch up with him, close enough to extend a hand and grab a fistful of the leather of his coat. Gaping at my hand, Dolos pulls out of my grip and propels himself over the side of the capsule, landing in a crouch on the ground seconds later.

  “Fudge!” I exclaim, my fingers still extended, clutching nothing but air. Below, Dolos darts over to the controls, and I cling on for dear life as the Ferris wheel kicks into gear again.

  Inching the rest of the way along the beam, I collapse inside the passenger car and take a moment to catch my breath. If my arms and legs were sore before, now they feel like they’re going to fall off. I wait for the car to reach ground level and then stumble out, feeling weak and lightheaded. At first, there’s no sign of Dolos in the vicinity of the Ferris wheel, but then I catch a glimpse of blonde hair several yards away, disappearing into the haunted house. Groaning, I force my tired legs into motion again, feeling like I’m dragging them through cement with every step I take.

  The door to the haunted house swings shut behind me, immediately plunging me into darkness. As I creep forward, something soft brushes my face and arms, and I claw it away with my hands, shuddering. Once my eyes adjust to the dark, I can see the outline of a network of web-like netting hanging from the ceiling. I’m relieved no one was around to witness my brief panic attack over some fake cobwebs.

  During Playland’s normal hours of operation, there would be staff members dressed as zombies, mummies and the like lurking in the dark, hardly waiting to scare the crap out of you. The house is much creepier empty, quiet except for the occasional groan of the floorboards as I pass from the first room to the next—the dreaded clown room. I keep my eyes forward, trying not to look at the clown statues set up around the room, their chalk white faces leering at me. The one manning the exit is even holding a creepy clown baby doll, its eyes bright yellow and demon-like, red mouth curled into a mischievous smile. Shivering, I give the clown baby a second, nervous glance before moving on.

  The next section is a hall of mirrors, my distorted image reflected a dozen times back at me as I pass through. I pause in front of one, eying a splash of dried blood and dirt on my cheek. Licking my thumb, I scrub away at it until it disappears. It’s only a minor improvement. I know I shouldn’t be wasting time checking myself out, but, with my tangled hair and stained, tattered clothes, I didn’t realize just how bad I look. I mean, I don’t exactly need to look glamorous to save the sorority, but a shower would be nice.

  “Now you see me.”

  At the sound of Dolos’s voice close to my ear, I give a start, looking up to find him reflected behind me in the mirror. I spin around, only to face my own, tired-looking reflection once again, with his nowhere to be found. His mocking laughter fills the room, bouncing off the walls until it sounds like a chorus of voices rather than just one. I march up the aisle, looking from one mirror to the next, imagining I see a flash of blonde hair in one, the glimmer of green eyes in another. But it’s not long before I leave the hall of mirrors behind completely for a room called Dance of the Dead, and still no further sign of Dolos.

  The Dance of the Dead room is filled with animatronic zombie couples, dressed in outdated tuxedos and prom dresses. The puppets look rather sad and neglected frozen mid-dance, clinging to each other as one might to a lifeboat in the middle of the ocean. In one corner, a skeleton D.J. hovers over an old record player; in another, a couple is getting crowned king and queen of zombie prom.

  The needle of the record player jerks into motion, touching down on the record with a small squeak. I jump. As the record starts to spin, a gentle tenor voice crackles from the speakers, singing “I Only Have Eyes For You.”

  A metallic groan follows, as from gears shifting. Then, the puppets spring to life as well, lurching and zigzagging around the room. The strobe lights turn on, flickering along the black wallpaper. Occasionally, one catches the grimacing face of a puppet, like the flash of a camera that’s caught its subject off-guard. A gray fog rushes into the room, making it difficult to see. Out of the smoke, one of the zombie couples comes barreling toward me. I stumble out of the way, only to end up in the path of another.

  “Dolos?” I shout above the music, dancing in and out of the endless whirl of mechanical figures, eyes stinging from the fog. “Dolos! This is stupid. You’re just running away—not even giving me a chance to win my stuff back. You’re probably not even here anymore,” I mutter, more to myself this time than anybody potentially listening. “Coward.”

  “What did you call me?”

  Just as abruptly as it began, the music cuts off, zombies jerking to a stop. The strobe lights go out.

  When the fog clears, Dolos is standing next to the turntable. He takes a few steps closer to me, glowering.

  “I called you a coward.” I make sure to emphasize the last word, feeling satisfied as I watch him bristle with anger.

  “I am not a coward!”

  “Really? You turned on me—you turned on your own sister—because you’re afraid of Eric. Of what he would do to you if you didn’t. I would say that’s pretty cowardly. And selfish.”

  He shakes his head. “I didn’t turn on you. You turned on me. I asked you to join me. We could still be together, but you said no.”

  I gape at him, the night’s emotions starting to roil inside of me like a storm. “You’re blaming me for why we’re not together? Seriously? You were playing me from the moment you crawled through my bedroom window. You didn’t care about me. You just slept with me so you could get to the stones!”

  “Carly, I…” Trailing off, he looks, for a moment, hurt and confused. A spark of the Dolos I thought was lost for good manages to make itself known, like a brief burst of light from a flare gun, signaling for help. “That’s just not true.”

  We both fall silent, staring at each other for several long minutes. In this moment, there is no bigger picture. There’s no one that needs saving, no antidote, no army that’s about to invade Olympus. There’s no outside. There’s just us, inside this dark, surreal little room.

  “You don’t belong with them,” I finally say, switching tactics. Maybe my grandmother’s spirit was right. If I can just remind him about who really cares about him—about the first time our paths crossed—maybe this doesn’t have to end with more heartache. Dolos can come back to his family. Back to me. All I can do is try.

  I’ve got nothing left to lose.

  “With Eric and his army,” I continue. There’s a wariness in Dolos’s eyes as he looks at me, but I can tell he’s listening, intrigued. “You belong with your family. With Apate, who loves you so much, who’s done literally everything for you to keep you safe. And with your other sisters and brothers. You all went through so much in Pandora, but you survived because you had each other. Because you’re family.

  “And you belong with me.” I take a tentative step closer to him. When he doesn’t move away, I take another. And another. “You were right when you told me, in Pandora, that fate brought us together. And it wasn’t the first time it did.”

  At this, Dolos seems to shrink back from me, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What?”

  “I recently had a memory come back to me that had been…repressed,” I explain. “The girl who helped you find a way out of Pandora? That was me.”

  From the genuine look of shock on his face, I think I have my answer as to whether or not he remembers me from that night. “That couldn’t have been you. It’s impossible.”

  I shrug. “I thought so, too.” Then, I tell him about the cries of help I heard coming from the forest ou
tside my grandparents’ house, and the strange, silvery mist. “It was a tear in the walls between dimensions, and when I walked through, I ended up in Pandora. I showed you and your siblings the way out.”

  “That was you?” Brow furrowed, Dolos seems to be thinking back to that day, trying to remember. “I guess it could have been.”

  “You really don’t remember?”

  “I try not to think about that time of my life,” he admits, gaze shifting to the floor. I leave him alone with his thoughts for a few minutes.

  “You were surprised that I came to help even though I didn’t know you,” I remind him, trying to jog his memory. “I said that that’s what people do. They help each other. And you told me I was brave.”

  When his eyes slide back up to my face, they’re glistening with unshed tears. “You were.”

  “Don’t you see?” I feel like crying myself, but I keep it together, trying to remain calm and strong for the both of us. “We…belong together. I don’t think our paths would have crossed twice like that if it wasn’t meant to be.”

  “I don’t know, Carly.” Like window blinds snapping shut, his expression abruptly closes off, leaving me in the dark. “I used to think it was, but I don’t really know now.”

  “But I do.” This time, I walk right up to him, stopping a mere arm’s length away. “Dolos, that night after we…” I cut myself off, starting over. “That night, I thought about us. Of all the things we’d do, as a couple. As a normal couple. I imagined date nights. Dinner and a movie. Late night walks. I even saw us dancing at my winter formal.” I smile up at him, a sudden burst of hope swelling inside of me. “That’s what it could be like. We could have that. All of it!”

  He leans his head to the side, considering this for a moment. He’s so close I could reach out to place a reassuring hand on his cheek, and yet it feels like he’s slowly but surely pulling away from me again. I’ve heard some relationships likened to rollercoaster rides, and we’ve certainly had our fair share of soaring highs and rock bottom lows. But I feel more like this relationship has been an endless carousel ride. We keep going around in circles, never stopping, and never getting anywhere. “I wish that were true. But that’s your world, Carly,” he finally says, softly but firmly. “Not mine.”