by Layla Frost
The vodka burned my throat, but that didn’t stop my drunken rendition of ‘Come Sail Away.’
Learning I was Hades, sailing on the river Styx, was bad enough. Having the seventies rock band’s lyrics playing through my head added insult to injury.
But since I was a coward who ran away, I deserved the torture and more.
Nate had looked crushed. My perceived abhorrence of who we were had likely been a slap in the face, and then I’d made matters worse by running.
But it wasn’t him I was running from. It was me.
And my dad.
The bastard.
“The bastard,” I sneered.
“Nate?”
“No! Nate is… everything. He’s amazing. He fucks like it’s his job, though thankfully he’s not a gigolo to the elderly. And he’s so sweet. He bought me books. Books!”
“I know, that’s pretty amazing.” Lula paused and looked up from the favor bag she was loading. “Why would he be a gigolo?”
“He’s not. He got his money back from his minion.”
“The little yellow guy?” She gave an exaggerated shudder. “Those things creep me out.”
“No.” I waved my hand not holding the vodka bottle. “Never mind. The point is, my dad is a bastard. But he was correct. I’m a hell spawn. Evil. I’m freakin’ Hades.”
“What does that even mean?” Lula asked. “Nate is Death, but not the version we picture. The same is probably true of you. What did he say?”
I shrugged. “It was time for me to come over.”
“We could’ve rescheduled.” She gave me a best friend look as she waited.
“And I needed space and a freak out,” I admitted. “This wasn’t a minor revelation.” I snorted at the biblical pun.
“You deserve a freak out and a drunk bender.”
I lifted my refilled glass in a toast to my best friend.
When I’d burst into her house, panicked and ranting, she hadn’t looked at me like I was insane. She’d handed me a drink before listening silently to what must have sounded like the ravings of a lunatic.
“I’m lucky to have you,” I said, practically launching myself across the table to hug her. Vodka had to have spilled, but she showed no reaction.
“Man, you are drunk,” she muttered. Still, she squeezed me tight, rubbing my back. “You’re not evil, Denny. Your dad was. I’d dig him up to kick where his junk used to be if I could, but digging up a grave seems like a lot of work, and he’s not worth it.”
I burst out laughing, wiping at tears I hadn’t even realized I was crying. Collapsing back into my chair, I set the glass on the table and scrubbed my palms down my face.
“Nate is Death, and you know he isn’t evil. It stands to reason you aren’t, either. You’re you, only with something more. Something special.” She tilted her head, her lips curving into a smirk. “Of course, I always knew that. Hence why we’re friends.”
I grinned at her. She’d always been my rock. “You do have good taste.”
“As do you, my friend. As do you.”
We both laughed, working as we gossiped. My drinking slowed from chugs to sips. Lula stuck to water since one of us needed to be clearheaded.
As we finished up, my trusty hot glue gun and I securing the last of the photo booth props onto oversized sticks, my phone vibrated.
“Nate?” Lula asked.
“No, he doesn’t have a phone yet.” I swiped across the screen.
Juno: Mayday, lady. Nate reached out, something is going down at your house. I’m stuck in a freakin’ airport in Chicago thanks to canceled and delayed flights. Magicking my way home would likely drain my powers, and I’ll be no help if I’m depleted.
Me: Did he say what was happening?
Juno: No, just called for backup and told me to tell you to stay put at Lula’s. I’m assuming you’re heading right over.
Me: You assume correctly.
Juno: I’m going to go use my womanly wiles to see if I can’t get on the next flight. I haven’t showered in two days and have been stuck in this airport for over twenty-four hours, so if my wiles don’t work, I’ll use my BO.
“I’ve gotta go,” I told Lula, already standing.
She unplugged the glue gun and tossed a hoodie at me. Since I’d run from my house in my pajama pants and a tank, it was needed against the frigid weather. I’d be even less help if I was frozen by the time I got home.
“Shit, I need to order an Uber,” I said, the levels of my drunkenness registering when I nearly toppled over.
“I’ll drive.”
I hesitated. An Uber would likely take a while, and I didn’t know how urgent the situation was. On the other hand, I wasn’t willing to put my best friend in danger.
“You can’t come in.”
“Okay, sure,” she muttered, grabbing her keys.
“You’re the best.”
“And you’re drunk.”
“Yup. But I’ll still kick some ass.”
_______________
“You don’t know who he is.”
“Denny, get over here. Now.”
I looked between Thomas Hale and Nate, my head spinning.
I was confused.
Hale stood near my computer desk, blocking the entrance to the kitchen. Nate stood in the doorway near the front door, blocking anyone else from entering.
Dumbass that I was, I’d positioned myself on the side of the room near my fireplace. I had distance from everyone, but no exit.
I failed at strategery.
Poor Lula sat at my bay window, her eyes darting between us as though she were watching a tennis match. I’d tried to get her to stay in the car, but she’d refused.
I should’ve threatened to call her mom and tell her Lula’s eloping. The fallout from that lie would’ve given me at least an hour.
When we’d gotten inside, there’d already been three bodies lumped together on the floor. Nate swore he hadn’t touched them because he hadn’t needed to. They’d charged him only to fall to the ground before coming close.
Since they were randomly strewn about, he’d arranged the bodies in a pile.
Tidy.
Our arrival had been followed by Thomas Hale less than two minutes later.
I didn’t need to be Admiral Ackbar to know it’d been a trap.
And I’d waltzed right into it, whistling ‘Mr. Roboto’ as I went.
Literally.
I looked at Hale, his focus moving from me to Lula.
“What?” she asked, pulling her coat tighter around herself as she shot him a nasty scowl.
He didn’t bother replying, only shaking his head as he dismissed her to look between Nate and me.
“There’s no reason for them to be here,” Nate tried, his face a mask.
“I agree about that one,” Hale said, gesturing to Lula. He tilted his head toward me and raised his brow. “But are you saying she’s not important?”
He shrugged, his smirk cocky. “They do say I come riding a pale horse.”
My skin that doesn’t tan and my hair that won’t color. I’m the pale horse.
Well, neigh to any more coming, jerk.
“It’s nothing more than that?” Hale asked. “Good to know.”
If Nate had slipped on his mask, Hale had removed his.
Starting at the top of my head, heat filled his gaze as he gave me a slow, in depth once-over. He paused at my chest and again lower south.
I fought the need to cover myself, not willing to give him the satisfaction. My stomach threatened to revolt, but I stood tall, glaring in disgust.
When Hale tore his attention from me to return it to Nate, his laugh was humorless. Sarcastically, he said, “Clearly nothing more than a ride.”
Nate’s fists were so tight, the skin on his knuckles had turned white. His jaw was clenched, and his black eyes swirled with loathing.
Lula’s mouth was moving as she spoke to him, but I couldn’t hear her whispered words.
Hale too
k a step toward me.
I took a big step away.
“My love, you need to come over here.” Nate reached his arm out. “Right now.”
“Your love?” Hale snorted. “Like you’d know what love is.” His dark brown eyes were warm and sympathetic as he smiled at me. “Is that what he tells you? That he loves you? He’s the devil’s creation, incapable of anything short of chaos and pain. He’s Death. Everything you feel is because he’s manipulating you. It’s all an illusion from his powers.”
My eyes shot to Nate as I tried to gain control through the rush of alcohol and emotions.
“You know that’s not true, my love,” Nate whispered.
I do.
I do?
Don’t I?
“He’s controlling you,” Hale told me, recapturing my attention as he walked farther into the living room. “He can make you think and feel whatever he wants. None of what you share is real.” He smiled, reaching for me. “If we can get you away from him—”
I closed my eyes for a moment, clearing my head. And in that instant, I saw it. The truth.
Absolve.
I snorted, asking, “What? You’ll steal my soul?”
His surprise was almost imperceptible. A brief raise of his brows and his eyes flaring.
Then they grew cold… Soulless.
All the fake sincerity and compassion disappeared as his gaze narrowed. “You know. Oh, this changes everything.” His mouth twisted in a joyless smile. “Too bad two will never become one.”
“What—” I started before my front door was thrown open.
A loud bang shook my ear drums, echoing in my head as it mixed with a scream.
My scream.
I looked over to see Nate fall to the ground, face-planting without even attempting to catch himself. Another thump followed, but I didn’t care about that one. I ran to him, skidding across the floor on my knees as I frantically looked for blood.
Before I could touch him, more men filed into my house to stand in front of Hale. Fourteen against three.
I glanced down at Nate, but his eyes were still closed.
Against two.
And one was Lula, someone who didn’t deserve to be a part of any of this.
“I wanted to do this the easy way, but it’s too late for that. At least we can make it quick. Or slow and torturous.” Hale’s eyes heated again, nasty and twisted. “I’m hoping for the latter, but it’s up to you, Haden.”
“Denny.” I stood, fury travelling through me. “My name is Denny!”
A couple men walked forward, relaxed and confident.
To them, I was a defenseless woman.
But as I stood in front of the two people who held my heart, I didn’t feel defenseless.
I felt pissed.
“Bring it,” I said, flicking my fingers to beckon them closer. “I know Krav Maga.”
When they hesitated, Hale yelled, “She’s lying, you idiots!”
My smile turned cocky and I taunted, “Find out.”
“Hey, leave him alone!” Lula cried behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder to see she’d moved to stand protectively next to Nate’s prone body as three men approached. Screaming and throwing things, she seemed to genuinely freak two of them out. Unfortunately, the third ignored her as he reached down to grip Nate’s ankle.
“Get away from him.” My voice was eerily calm as I spoke the order, and everyone’s eyes snapped to me. “And get the fuck out of my house,” I added, pushing my hands forward as if shoving them.
Energy surged through me, raising the hairs on my arms. My body thrummed, as though each and every molecule moved as one.
Dark smoke surrounded me, obscuring my view. Another ball of energy formed deep inside me. It raced through my body to shoot outward in crackling streaks of silvery-white, melding beautifully with the dark smoke. I inhaled sharply, expecting to gag and cough, but the smoke filled my lungs and strengthened me. Another jolt tingled across my nerves and wafted the smoke away.
Frantically scanning the room, I saw Nate and Lula, along with the three bodies Nate had piled together before we’d arrived.
The rest were gone.
I’d made them go.
“What was that?” Lula asked, wheezing.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. Seeing hesitance or nervousness would be fine. But if she was scared of me, I didn’t know what I’d do.
It’d hurt.
No, it’d kill.
“That was awesome!”
My gaze shot to her.
She was bouncing with excitement and grinning at me with pride. “What was that?”
Warily, I returned her smile. I glanced at my hands then back to her. “No clue.”
“That was badass.”
I dropped to my knees and pushed Nate’s hair back. When my skin touched his, his eyes shot open.
“Motherfucker,” he snarled as he did a modified pushup into a crouch before standing in one smooth motion.
When he turned toward the front door, I gasped.
There was a hole in the back of his shirt, right between his shoulder blades. The fabric around the hole was blackened and singed.
I pushed at his shirt, lifting it to inspect the wound.
There was none.
A small pink mark marred his skin, but it was fading before my eyes.
Pieces of a metal were on the floor near him.
A bullet.
He’d been shot.
Shot!
“What the hell? He’s Wolverine,” Lula cried, poking his skin.
“Where are they?” he asked, spinning around. His body was tense, ready for a fight.
“Denny got rid of them,” Lula boasted, again grinning at me.
His eyes shot to me as he scanned my body, looking for injury. “How?”
“Krav Maga?” I offered.
“How?” he repeated.
“I’m not sure. I told them to get out. They did. There were some mild pyrotechnics. It’s not important right now.” I clutched his arm. “They’re Absolve.”
“Fuck. Are you sure?”
“I don’t know how, but yes, I’m sure.”
He looked as confused as I felt, but turned toward my front door.
I peered around Nate to see another body, this one face down in my foyer. “He shot you and then passed out. Why? How did you survive a gunshot?” I pushed his shirt up again to see the mark was gone, not even a hint of pink remaining.
“I told you I can’t be killed easily.”
He’d told me, but I hadn’t fully believed him.
I looked back at the man. “Pile him with the others? This keeps up, we’re going to run out of room. Maybe we can stack them like Jenga pieces.”
“Wait,” Lula said, crouching near the guy to put her hands under him. “Don’t tell Chase I’m giving a guy a reach around.” She moved to pat his ass. Finding a wallet, she yanked it free and tossed it at Nate, who caught it but continued to stare at her. “What? Don’t you guys ever watch TV? You always check their pockets and shoes.” She tugged his sneakers off, and found a stash of money and a piece of paper. Unfolding it, she scowled. “I wouldn’t even begin to know what this means.”
Coming around, I looked at the paper.
furatus animam meam
sibi mortem
vitam immolavit
nigrum cor tuum permanet
“French?” I asked.
“Latin,” Nate said, reading over my shoulder. “Souls stolen, power gained, life sacrificed…” He rubbed his jaw for a moment. “Black heart remains.”
“That’s not creepy at all,” I muttered as Lula quickly dropped the paper.
“My love, isn’t this your ex?” Nate handed me a card.
The gold foiled design was glitzy and showy, instead of the subdued professional appearance I’d expect from a psychiatrist’s business card. It confirmed it was his before I even saw his name. “Where did you get that?”
He h
eld up the wallet.
“Seth said one of his patients saw Nate and I dancing in the supermarket,” I told Lula, trying to catch her up, though my thoughts were already racing ahead.
“You were dancing? In public?” she asked.
“Focus.” I gave her a small smile and nod. “But yes. Anyway, I thought it was weird, but my life has been weird lately. What if this guy was the one who told him?” I kicked at his shoulders. “Do you think he’ll wake up soon so we can question him?”
Nate gave me an indiscernible look before saying, “Since he’s dead, I hope not.”
“He’s dead?” I nearly tripped over myself to step away. “I was kicking a dead guy?”
“Hey, how do you think I feel?” Lula said, running for the hand sanitizer I keep on my desk. Filling her hand with so much it dripped to the floor, she scrubbed at herself. “I just robbed a corpse.”
“You felt him up, too,” I teased. “Totally got to second. Or is that third?”
“Shut up!” she shouted before laughing. “We’re sick. We shouldn’t be laughing. He’s dead.”
“He deserved it,” Nate said. “And you’re both in shock.”
“No, I think we’re pretty much sick in the head.” I gestured to the Lincoln Log Men “What about these other guys?”
They were all dressed much like Hale. Military, but not.
I crouched to get a better look but stayed back since I was worried they’d jump scare my ass. When I saw the one on top, I fell to my butt with a thud.
“That’s Steve,” I said, as if they had any clue who that was. “He was part of the neighborhood watch. He was spying on me, too, wasn’t he?” My skin crawled. “Hasn’t anyone heard of privacy? Fucking hell, my life is not that interesting.” My temper fully unleashed, I reached out to slap the shit out of him until he woke up to give me some answers. My palm barely touched his face when he exploded into a pile of dust. The particles settled on the other bodies, setting off a chain reaction.
“What the hell?” I lifted my hand in horror, looking at it and then the pile of dust. “I’m turning into fucking Rogue!”
“Who?” Nate asked.
“X-Men,” Lula explained for me.
“I’ll need gloves.” Panic tore through me. “We can never have sex again. I’ll never be able to stroke your—”