Deidre's Death (#2, Rhyn Eternal)

by Lizzy Ford

Wynn heard the commotion from his place on the terrace taking afternoon tea. He never expected to see the blue sky again or the trees around the fortress, let alone sip sweet tea and nibble on berry scones. He’d been in the middle of deciding which of his collection of knives he was going to use to kill the goddess once and for all when the noise started.

  It sounded as if half a legion of armed Immortals was chasing someone through the fortress. Assuming it was some sort of uncivilized training exercise engineered by the half-breed in charge of the Council, he was nonetheless stopped from enjoying his first tea since returning from Hell.

  His peace ruined, he rose and strode into the fortress. The main floor consisted of common areas and wide halls lined with massive windows. What he saw was exactly how he pictured it: undisciplined scrambling by about a dozen Immortals in uniform. He watched them, recalling a time he’d overseen the training of all Immortal warriors.

  Times had definitely changed. He wasn’t certain how Rhyn’s men managed to drive away the demons last autumn. If anything, it made Darkyn look bad for not being able to defeat the disorganized rabble.

  Determined to find some peace and quiet, Wynn ignored the men racing in different directions through the hallways and went to one of the back stairwells. He climbed halfway up before he heard what sounded like a sob from behind him. He turned in time to see someone racing away. He started to resume his climb then paused.

  Unable to explain exactly why, he had the sense that whomever it was that he saw, he knew.

  Wynn trotted down the stairs. He heard two of the Immortals shouting from down a nearby hall and saw the dark figure duck into a doorway. Wynn wished of the second time that day he had a weapon of some sort. He would’ve gutted past-Death earlier if so.

  Silently, he strode down the hallway after the figure he saw. He pushed the door to a dark room open, using his senses to key in on where the person was. Though he possessed nowhere near the level of power he used to, he was still able to sense the figure cowering in a corner. Unwilling to alarm them and possibly end up stabbed, he pretended not to know and moved through the room.

  He went to the window opposite the figure and closed his eyes, then whipped the curtain open. Someone gasped. Wynn turned and opened his eyes. The figure’s arm was raised to block the blinding light.

  Wynn moved before his victim could. He snatched the arm and whirled her, arm sliding around the neck of the mysterious person.

  The skin against his jaw was rough. Scarred. The body went limp. Her breathing was ragged, her frame shaking. He leaned away to look down and confirm that she wore the dress of a demoness.

  “Selyn,” he said, surprised. “If that’s you, tell me.”

  He waited to see what she did. The girl tapped his arm then held up three fingers, the sign she’d made to mean Wynn. Darkyn was one finger, his mate two fingers and Wynn three. Darkyn’s daughter was unable to speak with the damage done to her head and neck. She was lucky to walk. By the trembling of her body, she wasn’t going to be on her feet much longer.

  What the fuck was Darkyn’s daughter doing in the Immortal stronghold?

  He released her and turned her to face him. There were tears on her cheeks. She held up two fingers.

  “Deidre,” he said.

  She nodded and started breathing hard and fast, panicking. Her eyes were dark, her pixie-cut messy.

  “Whatever your father did, don’t involve me,” he said. “Gods, he’ll fucking slaughter me for talking to you.”

  Selyn shook her head. She was upset but didn’t know how to tell him why. She held up two fingers again.

  Frustrated and concerned his self-preservation was at stake, Wynn summoned a portal to take the girl back.

  Selyn tried to bolt. Wynn caught her, puzzled. She was shaking her head again, staring at the portal with huge eyes. The growl of a demoness was almost a whimper.

  He closed the portal. At a loss as to what to do next, he was about to summon Darkyn when the room shook. Wynn went still. He’d felt the earth crack open once before. It happened the first time Darkyn invaded the mortal world from Hell. The demon lord tore the plane between the two.

  Wynn took Selyn’s arm. He led her to the window. She looked out and squeezed his arm in excitement. Wynn was far less thrilled by what they saw.

  Darkyn was standing beside a molten tear in the earth, flanked by seven demons that stood one and a half times the size of Gabriel, the largest man Wynn knew.

  “Darkyn’s here with his back-up squad. You’re clearly upset about something. I don’t see Deidre,” Wynn said, thinking fast. “Should I assume something happened to her?”

  Selyn nodded vigorously.

  Rhyn and several other Immortals spilled out of the fortress.

  “I think we need to get down there,” Wynn said.

  Selyn started away, tugging at him to follow.

  “Wait, Selyn. The Immortals won’t hesitate to hurt you.”

  Her eyes watered again. She’d been raped and killed by an Immortal. She knew what danger she was in. Wynn doubted she knew that the Immortal who did it was his son. She wouldn’t be anywhere near him if she did.

  “If you don’t want to go through the portal” - She shook her head - “then we’ll have to go through the back passages.”

  She waited.

  Wynn almost sighed. Whatever happened, it could break bad. Darkyn didn’t tear the fabric between worlds for a simple hello.

  “Stay with me no matter what, okay?” he instructed her.

  She nodded. Gods help the girl, she trusted him of all people.

  Chapter Fourteen