Pickup Styx (Easy Bake Coven)

by Liz Schulte

  By Liz Schulte

  Amazon Edition

  Pickup Styx

  Book 3 in the Easy Bake Coven series

  Copyright © 2013 by Liz Schulte

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Discover other titles by Liz Schulte at Amazon.

  Table of Contents

  Map to Styx

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ember Sneak Peek

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  I cracked my knuckles for the millionth time. I knew better than to make deals without knowing the cost—especially with hoodoo priestesses—but what choice did I have? I crossed and uncrossed my legs and smoothed my champagne silk-crepe dress.

  Baker gave me a sympathetic smile before looking back toward the cemetery gates. We were perched on the concrete edge of a planter, waiting for someone— or something—to let me inside. It was impossible to ignore the dry stickiness of my mouth. I just wanted to go home.

  “No matter what they want, do not agree to start tonight. Make sure you have time to plan,” Baker said for the fifth time, his lips barely moving.

  Apparently, nerves were catching. I studied the profile of the ginger-haired shifter beside me. Baker’s nose had a slight notch in it, like he’d been in too many fights. Crease lines by his eyes hinted to his gregarious personality, and his full lips were set in an unnaturally serious line. I realized I didn’t really know much about Baker, other than he talked like he was plucked from a fast-talking ‘40s movie like His Girl Friday. “How old are you?”

  The corner of Baker’s mouth twitched. “Next, you’re gonna ask me if I really look like this.”

  “Do you?” Though I had no trouble remembering my past anymore, I’d never knowingly had any contact with a shifter, but that didn’t mean they weren’t in my life. They could be anything or anyone. Even someone I knew and had loved for decades. My heart clenched. Jaron’s name whispered through my mind like forbidden fruit. I hadn’t allowed myself to think about him. I couldn’t. It wasn’t fair to Cheney, and I had responsibilities. But the name was enough to trigger the memory. The image of life draining from Jaron’s eyes filled my mind. My breath caught, and I clenched my hands together. His eyes had never strayed from mine as I killed him. I could still feel the warmth of his body and the sensation of his blood pouring over my hands. I looked at my laced fingers like they were someone else’s. The stains of his blood weren’t visible, but they would always be there all the same. There had been a time when it was hard to tell where Jaron ended and I began. Now he was gone. Because of me.

  No, no, no. Don’t fall apart now. You did what you had to do. It’s not your fault. But the reasonable voice in my mind could no longer hold back the swell of emotion that had been ignored too long.

  “Maybe someday, when I’ve known you longer than five seconds, I’ll tell ya—” Baker turned his whole body toward me. “Hey, doll. You okay? You don’t look so good.”

  I blinked several times and dug my fingernails into my palms, trying not to feel the knife sinking into Jaron’s flesh or the scorching heat of his blood. I swear. I had to. The moaning creak of the gate swinging open by itself barely registered over the roar of my blood rushing through my veins.

  Baker stood up and offered me his hand. “It’s time.”

  His words flushed all thoughts from my head. Everything was quiet and time almost stopped as I looked at the hand waiting to lead me back into uncertainty. No time for a breakdown. I would think about Jaron later.

  “Selene?”

  “Yeah?” I took Baker’s strong hand and stood up, knees wobbling. When I was steady enough, he let me go and nodded toward the gate. I took a couple steps, but Baker didn’t follow. “Aren’t you coming?”

  He shook his head. “This is one walk you have to take alone.”

  I blew out a long breath and glanced back at the wrought iron gate. Its scrolling pattern slithered as if alive. I shook my head and closed my eyes—not possible. But even on my second look, the gate was fluid as if the iron had turned to liquid and was pumping through unseen veins. “Are you kidding?” I asked Baker. Hell no, I wasn’t going in there alone. The last time I came out of that cemetery, something had pulled at me, tried to hold me—only barely failing to stop me from leaving. And even then the gate hadn’t appeared to be alive. The energy in the air made the hair on my arms stand. My skin crawled with invisible bugs.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t make the rules. I can’t set foot in there tonight.” He nudged me forward. “Don’t miss your window or what they want will be worse. I’ll be here when you get out.”

  I walked through the gate, glancing behind me once. “If I don’t come back, tell Cheney—” The words stuck in my throat. Tell him what exactly? That I love him? To remember me? To come and get me the hell out of here? I shook my head. “Just tell him I’m sorry.” Sorry—it seemed like such a paltry word considering everything I had put him through. I would make it up to him someday, starting with this. I steeled my spine and moved deeper into the shadows. The atmosphere amid the various tombstones and long-forgotten grave markers was thick with more than humidity. Walking through it took concentration. It split around me like I was traveling through water. Strands of my hair were lifted and tugged, sending cascades of goose bumps over my flesh. The occasional brush of unseen fingers against my neck, legs, and arms made me itch to turn around and run back to the gates, but I trudged forward, holding my breath. When Antoinette was in sight, it took all I had not to cry out and fling myself into her arms.

  Standing in front of a mausoleum, hands on her hips, she watched my approach. I forced my gait to remain slow and steady. I lifted my chin toward the sky. I was the Queen of the Fae—deserved or not. A little walk in a human cemetery wasn’t going to undo me.

  When I was a few feet away from her, Antoinette half-heartedly waved a hand. “Hush.” Everything unseen surrounding me vanished. “They like you, little witch. Perhaps they sense your power.” She raised an eyebrow over her milky white eyes. “Perhaps they want to keep you.”

  “That’s not an option.” I squared my shoulders, but my hands shook. I would’ve given almost anything to get out of the place once and for all.

  “You promised to pay any price they deemed worthy. You received their gifts and you broke the curse that weighed on you. If they choose to keep you, you will have only one choice: to comp
ly or forfeit your life. Those were the agreed-upon terms, were they not?” One side of Antoinette’s mouth lifted, and she stepped to the side of the partially opened door. “The souls you moved through to get here belong to those who didn’t comply.”

  I swallowed hard and stepped into the crypt. “You forget, priestess. I’m half elf. I can see ghosts. There were none.”

  Her laughter boomed through the silent night. “Who said anything about ghosts? I said souls. It’s the souls of those who cannot pay the price that give this place power. The spirits feed on that power. Sit.”

  A single metal chair sat in the center of the room. I let out a slow breath and lowered myself to the edge of the seat. A shriek came from outside, making all my muscles clench. I jumped, and a blast of telekinetic mojo escaped from my mind. A loud crack came from my right, and a shower of bones and stone clattered against the floor. I kept my eye trained on Antoinette, ignoring the chasm I’d accidentally opened in the tomb. My emotions were running too high. I had to relax or the whole room would crumble around us.

  “You are a powerful one.” Her bony finger traced the air around me as she thoughtfully studied me with her blind eyes. “Are you prepared to learn your fate?”

  “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. Tell me what they want. Stop trying to scare me.” I was near my breaking point. My stomach knotted, my head throbbed, and magic collected under my skin. I wasn’t sure how long I could hold back the sheer panic that wanted to destroy everything around me.

  “I do not know. You must ask them yourself.” She hobbled out of the crypt and shut the door.

  One by one the candles in the room snuffed out, and thin wisps of smoke rose through the air. I looked around slowly, but no one else was there. The smoke trails didn’t dissipate. Instead, they swirled and fluttered through my hair. They moved faster and faster until I was encased in a solid white haze. Whispering voices flitted past my ears, too fast to catch more than a stray word or two. The heat and the chaotic movement of the smoke made me dizzy. I closed my eyes and dropped my chin to my chest, trying to find my center. The energy pressed closer. The chatter increased and grew louder with each passing second.

  “Let’s keep her,” a high-pitched voice whined.

  “No. Send her,” a deeper voice said.

  “She has power,” came from a female voice.

  “She may succeed,” the deeper voice said again.

  “We could come back,” the woman said. “The risk is worth it.”

  “What a waste,” the high-pitched voice said before everything went completely silently except for my own panting breath.

  “The Pole of Charon,” the woman’s voice rang out.

  I opened one eye and then the other. “What’s the Pole of Charon?” No one was there. The smoke was gone. Re-lit candles flickered around me again.

  “On the evening of the fifth moon, you must return,” the voice said, and then the door to the crypt opened.

  I stood on unsteady legs and left as fast as I could, drinking in the fresh night air.

  “They decided not to keep you,” Antoinette said as she closed the door behind me.

  I straightened and turned toward her. “They wanted—”

  She held up a hand to stop me. “What they want is between you and them. It’s no concern of mine. You best be going, child. The hour for dark approaches.”

  I shook my head and headed back down the path. Never again. If I live a thousand years, I will never mess with hoodoo again. I walked faster, wanting to talk to Baker about the Pole of Charon. I wasn’t certain I knew what that was, and I definitely didn’t know where to find it. Five moons—five days—was my deadline. I eyed the gate to make sure it wasn’t still moving before I pulled it open. The tremendous relief of stepping out of the cemetery made my knees buckle. I steadied myself against the planter I had been sitting on earlier.

  “Baker?” The only sound on the street was the hum of the lights.

  A moment of panic seized me. What if this was all an illusion? What if they hadn’t actually let me go? I looked back at the gates and then down the street.

  “Baker?” I called again.

  As much as every part of me didn’t want to, I had to make sure I could go home. Antoinette would know if I was still in the other world. I tugged on the gate, but it didn’t budge. Another shriek sounded from inside. Now that my mind wasn’t clouded with fear, I recognized it. A banshee.

  I backed away slowly. I couldn’t go back inside the fence—and I couldn’t stay here. Banshees were no joke. If they were close enough that you could see them and they wailed, you died. I started down the empty street, worry sinking in. When I hit a main street, however, I saw cars and people. I wasn’t trapped in some alternate world. Humans and the occasional Abyss resident, who the humans were oblivious to, walked past. Some of the tension eased from my shoulders. I studied the street more carefully, but the shifter wasn’t there.

  Damn it. Where the hell was Baker?

  I didn’t have time to look for him. I was working against a deadline. I only had a week to locate and obtain the Pole of Charon or I’d be one of those lost souls in the cemetery—and, um, no thank you. I shuddered at the thought before I retreated to my empty street and transported home.

  Would I ever be able to watch Selene walk away without feeling like the world was collapsing on me?

  She left with the shifter, Baker, trying to appear calm, but I could see the nerves in her rigid movements. I waited until she was completely out of view before I turned back to her cousin, Sy. His silver eyes had darkened to the color of pewter, and worry etched a thin line across his forehead.

  “She’s tougher than she looks,” he said, trying to convince himself more than me. “She always has been.”

  “What kind of fae makes an open-ended deal?” I said, shaking my head. I knew why she’d done it, but I still couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought it through better. Memory or no memory, she was a half-elf and a member of the fae race. Loopholes and contract wording were sort of our specialty, yet she backed herself—and me by association—into an impossible corner. If this got out, it would be yet another reason for our people to rebel against her—which was the last thing any of us needed.

  “A desperate one.” He clapped his hand down on my shoulder. “Your council awaits.”

  I led the way through the door though I no longer felt like having a meeting. Endless worst-case scenarios rioted through my mind. I had envisioned life with Selene as being easy and simple because I loved her and she loved me—but so far it had been a continual state of dealing with crises, one after another. It was hard not to question whether or not it was worth it. I met each council member’s gaze in turn: the wise patience of the High Elf Adan, the irritable resentment of the dwarf Beleg, the mischievous twinkle of the goblin Turin, the calculating, hooded glance of the fairy queen Alanna, and the steady eyes of both Sy and Sebastian—who were probably the only people I could fully trust here, though they would both hold Selene’s interests above my own.

  “And where, pray tell, is our fearless Queen?” Alanna’s voice could lure a ship ashore, but today I found it grating.

  “She had a prior engagement,” I said.

  “Something more important than our meeting? Should I be offended? Had I known you weren’t taking this council seriously, I would never have joined.”

  I rubbed my forehead.

  “Cheney is here. Perhaps he should be offended by your implication that he isn’t living up to his responsibilities,” Sy retorted.

  “Yet his Queen is not. We all know he follows her around like a lovesick puppy.” Her eyes drilled into me. “Doesn’t bode well for our little venture if there is trouble in paradise.”

  Alanna thought she knew me. She thought she could read me and manipulate me. She was wrong. We’d been lovers for a brief time, but she never had the slightest hold on my heart. Selene had kept it firmly since the day I met her, and there was nothing I could do about it—though I
had certainly tried to be free of her over the years. No, frustrate me as she might with her poor decisions and rampant impulsiveness, I needed Selene.

  “I don’t know why you’re complaining. If Selene were here, you would only torment her,” Sebastian said.

  “Oh, so the Queen is scared of little old me.” She pouted.

  “Enough,” I snapped, slamming my hand on the table. “Selene regrets that she could not be here. Something of grave importance arose, and that is the last I want to hear of it.” I mentally counted to ten before continuing in a more civil manner. “We need to discuss how to move forward with uniting the races under a government where everyone feels they have a voice.”

  My family had ruled the fae races for the better part of three millennia. Recently, some of the old rules were being challenged by the younger generations and change was upon us all. It was Selene’s idea to form a council of the races to give each one a say in how they were governed. Despite these steps forward, more people than ever were protesting—including the full elves, unhappy about having a half-elf queen. The kingdom was on shaky ground and it needed stabilizing before something happened that would tear it apart for good.

  “Elections,” Beleg said. “Let the people pick their own ruler.”

  I smiled thinly, understanding fully what he meant. Sebastian spoke first.

  “Not probable at this point. There is too much general unrest, and if we expose ourselves as being weak and not united, we will be open to attack from stronger races. Your people must have a record, Beleg. You must have heard what it was like before we united.”

  He grumbled and huffed but dropped the subject.

  “You need to get Selene out to the forefront,” Turin said. “Make her the people’s Queen. She will win them over. Even Beleg likes her.” He hooked a thumb at the dwarf. “If they get to know her, they will respond to her.”