The Forsaken

by Laura Thalassa

  My throat tightened. “You’re a fate. Shouldn’t you have known?”

  “Perhaps. I’m not omniscient—not in this form—regardless of what the myths say about me.”

  I turned back to the photo. “Where is she buried?”

  “Lemnos—it’s an island on the Aegean. It’s where your family is from.”

  Up until this point, I hadn’t known that. I wanted to shake Cecilia, to yell and ask her why she had failed so epically to tell me about my parents, but then that would make me a hypocrite.

  I’d never asked about them. Sure, I’d done searches for them, read up on their histories, memorized their faces and printed out pictures of them, which I’d shoved between pages of my textbooks. But I’d never forced Andre to tell me all he knew of Santiago—a man he’d been close friends with for half a millennia. And I’d never sought out Cecilia before this to learn more about them.

  I think as much as I wanted to know, I didn’t want the what-ifs to well within me. They were gone, I’d survived, and I was forced to live out my life without the shine of their personalities.

  “She did it all for you,” Cecilia said staring down at the photo.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The child that never should’ve existed. She was the only one who knew for certain that you were Santiago’s. Not even he could be sure—not until you grew old enough to take on his features.” She shrugged helplessly. “I’m afraid a siren’s reputation long precedes her.

  I turned to more fully face Cecilia. “Vampires don’t have children—they can’t.”

  “You’re right, they can’t. But you are Santiago’s daughter.”

  I searched her face. “How is that possible?”

  “Just as the devil tricks humans, sometimes God tricks the devil.”

  I breathed in and out, letting that settle on my shoulders. “You’re saying God made me this way?”

  Cecilia shrugged. “I, as you might imagine, am not well acquainted with Christian religion. That’s ultimately for you to decide.

  “Most of the time the world’s religions coexist in—relative—harmony. But not always. You are one such case. The prophecy is true—you are Pluto’s Proserpine, and he will do everything in his power to take you back to the Underworld with him. But it is also true that some great being out there tweaked the rules of our world so that you could exist at all.”

  She glanced at the photo I still held. “Your mother knew about the prophecy before you were ever born, and she spent the last years of her life doing everything she could to protect you from your fate.” Cecilia touched the skin just beneath my eye. “And like you, she knew when her time was coming to a close.”

  My heartbeat increased. “She knew she was going to die?”

  Cecilia gave a slight nod. She moved away from the framed photo and to the window. I followed her over there.

  Outside Leanne and Oliver played some game that involved slapping each other’s hands. Beyond them, Andre leaned against a tree, his body tense. His entire focus seemed to be trained on this house. That man was a force of nature.

  Cecilia nodded to him. “He’s impossible to be around right now, isn’t he?”

  I shook my head. “You have no idea.”

  “He’s only going to get more difficult, I’m afraid. Fear does that to men like him. Nothing for it.”

  He hadn’t moved since we came to the window.

  “He’s a good man.” She smiled. “You brought him back from the edge; he was getting tired of life.” She paused. “I don’t know everything, but I can tell you this: he loves you more than he’s ever loved anything. Losing you is going to gut him.”

  So we were still talking in truths.

  I placed a trembling hand on the cold windowpane and stared out at him. “I know.” It was barely a whisper.

  I longed to take away his pain. Instead I’d be adding to it. “Will he survive it?”

  Cecilia turned my face to her. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you ask about him rather than yourself.”

  I lifted my shoulders and glanced down at my shoes. “I’m trying not to think about what’s going to happen to me.”

  “Ah. That I can understand.”

  She wasn’t denying that my fate would be everything my nightmares suggested it would be.

  She sighed. “I can’t answer your question about the vampire. It would alter the way events must unfold.”

  She twisted away from the window. “There is a very specific reason why I called you here,” Cecilia said. “As much as you do not want to dwell on your future, we must discuss it.

  “There has always been a balance to things,” she said, “but the balance has been thrown off for some time. The Celestial Plane—heaven—doesn’t involve itself in earthly skirmishes, but the devil has gotten too powerful. He thinks to overreach.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “And I have something to do with that?”

  Cecilia drew in a deep breath. “He wants access to earth. And in order to get that, he needs a woman with the flesh of the earth and born with the blood of the tainted—he needs you. You offer him power. Lots of it.”

  Her words reminded me of a long ago conversation with Andre. He had said the same thing.

  I put a hand to my head. “Wait.” Her words echoed in my head. “Are you saying that because my father was a vampire, I was born … tainted?” I used the word she provided.

  Cecilia nodded.

  “And you’re saying that some bigger being allowed me to be born?”

  “Not allowed, mi tesoro. Facilitated. Your birth was facilitated.”

  Now there was some news to knock you on your ass.

  “Wow.” I had to shelve that one; I had no idea what to make of it.

  “Is there a way to stop the devil?” I asked.

  “To stop him means stopping you.”

  I rubbed my eyes, suddenly feeling a million years old—so, about the same age as Andre. “If I thought dying would help, I wouldn’t be running from certain death, Cecilia. Is there another way?”

  She looked at me from the corner of her eye, a sly smile curving her mouth. I’d asked the question out of desperation, but it seemed that there was actually validity to it.

  “There is, isn’t there?” I didn’t mean to sound so shocked. It was just that after visiting Hestia, I’d resigned myself to my fate.

  “There is always salvation for those who want it.” Cecilia’s eyes flicked back to the window before returning to me. “You must talk to the third and final fate, Decima. She’s currently undecided on the matter of your life and the balance between good and evil.”

  No pressure or anything.

  “And you want me to convince her of what? My goodness?”

  “Mi tesoro, we fates are far-seeing, but we also dwell in human bodies with all of their limitations. We are subjective, and we make mistakes. A person’s future is a pattern of possibilities. They collapse together into one reality only when they happen. And right now, the number of possibilities that end well for you, for vampires, for the balance of good and evil … well, the odds are against you.”

  I swallowed, remembering the chill of the devil’s presence, the desolation of a place without God. The thought of going back to that had my heart hammering. “I’ve beaten the odds more than once,” I said.

  “That you have, which is why you need to talk with Decima. The third fate watches you even now. She is the swing vote. Find her.”

  “How will I find her?”

  “She waits for you inside Peel Academy. A certain hellhound will lead you to her. Word is that dog is very taken with you”

  “Scooby?” I said quietly. Yeah, I’d named the Moddey Dhoo, Peel Castle’s demonic dog. He’d become my buddy.

  I cleared my throat. “When should I meet Decima?”

  “She is a fate. You’ll meet her exactly when the time is right.”

  Typical cryptic response.

  A grandfather clock chimed in the corner.

&
nbsp; Cecilia took the photo from me, returning it to its place. “Enemies approach, mi tesoro. It is time to be on your way.”

  She led me to the door. “Do you still have that card I gave you?”

  “Mhm.” It was buried somewhere in that enchanted bag Andre had hauled around, shoved inside one of my pants’ pockets.

  “Good,” she said absentmindedly, a faraway look in her eyes. “Keep it safe. You’ll need it in the future.”

  Trusting me with a flimsy piece of paper was probably not Cecilia’s wisest decision, but I nodded anyway.

  I hesitated, then leaned in to hug her tightly. I had so many more things that I wanted to ask, to say, and I feared I’d never get the chance.

  When I pulled away, she patted my cheek. “Have faith. We are the weavers of time. Everything will go as it should.”

  I wanted to believe her, but the truth was, I was earthborn, hellbound, and absolutely screwed.

  I left her small cottage, dazed by what I’d learned. As soon as Andre caught sight of me, that singular focus of his was honed in on me.

  He loves you more than he’s ever loved anything.

  I took in a ragged breath. Hope might not be lost. Not completely.

  “Done with your little tête-à-tête?” Oliver asked when he saw me. “Sure you don’t want a little longer? I don’t think all ten of my fingers have gotten frostbite yet.”

  “Shut up, Oliver,” Leanne said, elbowing him.

  “Ow!” he rubbed his side. “Keep your elbows to yourself. The only boney things I want poking me are—”

  Leanne covered his mouth with her hand before he had time to finish the sentence. “Sometimes I seriously wonder why we’re friends.”

  Oliver’s protest was muffled.

  When Andre reached me, he laid his hands on my upper arms and gently kneaded them. “All went well, soulmate?”

  I nodded, trying to keep eye contact in spite of the knowledge I’d learned between Hestia and Cecilia.

  “I need to meet with the third fate and convince her that I’m worth saving.”

  Andre’s face broke into a brilliant smile. “That’s excellent, soulmate. Where and when are you to meet her?”

  “Peel Academy, and on fate time—so whenever.”

  His smile dropped. “No.”

  “No?” Is he serious?

  “Peel Academy is way too dangerous.”

  Oh Lordy, he is.

  I raised my eyebrows. “I don’t remember asking for your permission.”

  “There will be Politia everywhere, soulmate. Let’s find a different location.”

  “Sure, why don’t I just call up Decima with a number I don’t have. I’m sure a fate that might not even like me is eager to accommodate my needs.”

  I don’t even know why I was arguing with Andre. It’s not like he was going to change my mind. Not if this fate could save me from the devil. I’d risk death for that.

  Andre glowered at me.

  “Is someone having another lover’s quarrel?” Oliver asked, wandering over.

  “Soulmate, this is a bad idea.”

  “What’s a bad idea?” Oliver asked, gripping my arm. “I love bad ideas. Especially yours.”

  “I need to get inside Peel Academy unnoticed.”

  Oliver snorted. “Bitch please, that’s too easy.”

  All of us turned to the fairy, including Leanne, who’d so far stayed out of the fray.

  “Really?” Oliver let us all know with a single look that he thought we were imbeciles. “They’re called persecution tunnels.”

  Andre stepped forward. “These tunnels can get my soulmate in and out of the school completely undetected?”

  “That is the idea.”

  “Perfect,” I said, clapping my hands together. “That solves that.” I’d be going back on campus. I could already feel my excitement bubbling. I missed my old school.

  “I don’t like this,” Andre grumbled, but he didn’t fight it.

  Once we made plans to meet up again tomorrow to find Decima, Andre and I parted ways with Oliver and Leanne. Those two headed back to Peel Academy, while we headed for Bishopcourt.

  It wasn’t until we’d reached Andre’s place that I thought back on my conversation with Cecilia. I realized I never asked her who the other woman in the photo was. Or, more importantly, what a random photo of my mother was doing there in the first place.

  Chapter 16

  I passed a saint’s relic Andre had on display along the hall at Bishopcourt. It wasn’t the original one he had here; that one had been lost in the fire several months ago.

  I reached out and touched the relic, whispering a desperate prayer under my breath. Even knowing it hadn’t saved Andre or any other vampire didn’t matter at the moment. Time and reverence had made the thing holy.

  Andre paused to wait for me, but he didn’t comment on my behavior. If anything, something like understanding flickered in his eyes. He’d done this before, perhaps many times. He knew what it was like to ask for salvation even if deliverance would never come.

  He called over a servant. “Please get Gabrielle a clean set of clothes and leave them in my room.

  Once the servant left, he placed a hand on my back and steered me farther down the hall. “Soon they will know you’re here.”

  Andre didn’t have to clarify who “they” were. Considering the entire supernatural community wanted my head, I might as well assume he meant all of them.

  “And,” Andre continued, “later tonight I will have to contact the coven and schedule a meeting.”

  I cringed. “They’re going to eat me alive—right after they draw and quarter me.”

  We came to the door of his room, and he held it open for me. “Soulmate, our coven will not harm you.”

  Andre didn’t close it after I entered, and I swiveled to look at him. He nodded to the bathroom. “Get clean. I need to set my coven’s business in order, among other things. I’ll be back here shortly.”

  He didn’t need to tell me twice. I slipped into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I sighed as I peeled off the leather pants and the matching bustier. I could die a happy woman if I never had to wear leather again.

  When I stepped into the shower, days’ worth of grime slid off my body. I practically moaned at the hot water beating down my back. Up until now I hadn’t noticed just how cold I’d gotten, not until the steam and the warm spray thawed my body.

  The air outside the glass shower stall rippled, the steam seeming to displace itself. I stared, first transfixed then horrified, as a figure coalesced from the mist.

  Not just a figure. A black suit, custom tailored, hugged wide shoulders. It tapered inward at a narrow waist. The slacks beneath it were crisp, a starched line running down the middle of each pant leg. Gleaming leather shoes crossed at the ankle. Almond eyes stared at me through the mist.

  The devil lounged against the nearby wall, scrutinizing me. His mouth didn’t move, but his words tickled my ear.

  “Miss me?”

  I covered myself as fear coursed through me.

  “Nothing I haven’t seen many times before.” Again, the devil’s mouth didn’t move, but his voice spoke in my ear. I didn’t know if he was referring to the female form in general, or mine in particular. I seriously hoped it was the former.

  “What is with you and bathrooms?” I said over my fear.

  He ignored my question and pushed off the wall, heading towards me. All that separated us was the clear glass stall that encased me. Filmsy protection against a man that could appear at will.

  I backed up. “Stay away from me,” I warned him.

  “Or else what?” he challenged.

  I drew in a shaky breath. I had nothing. No threat of mine could scare off Pluto, the devil—whatever and whoever he was.

  The steam inside the shower stirred, and then he stood in front of me. I stumbled back. While he appeared corporeal, water passed right through him.

  His eyes flicked over me, and my skin c
rawled. “The vampire’s time with you is coming to a close. Shame that he’s wasting it, too.”

  “He’s not wasting it.”

  “Oh?” The devil’s brows rose in mock surprise. He stepped forward, crowding me. This was the closest he’d ever come to me here on earth. His voice dropped low. “And yet I’m the one in the shower with you.”

  Goosebumps broke out along my flesh at the wanting in his eyes. “I didn’t invite you.”

  “I didn’t ask for your consent.”

  We stared each other down, and I flared my nostrils, anger rising. But even it couldn’t compete with the sheer panic that flooded my veins.

  The devil leaned in, removing the last space between us. “Coming back here will be the death of you.”

  Despite the hot water, a shiver tore through me at his words.

  He lies for a living. This is no different, I told myself.

  But I couldn’t pretend away the subtle palsy my limbs had taken on in the last day, or the way my heart sometimes slowed to a crawl. My appetite was going too. I wouldn’t need someone to gun me down; my body was doing a great job of dying all on its own.

  The devil didn’t step back, not immediately. Instead he lingered, not touching, but only just. Having him this close reminded me that he’d taken me—twice—to do with as he pleased. While he hadn’t physically violated me, he’d tasted my soul. That was another type of desecration.

  “Did you expect anything differently of me?” he asked, reading my thoughts.

  His sharp words held a hidden meaning in them. If I was to believe what I’d learned of him, then he wasn’t just the devil—and he wasn’t just Pluto, either. He was all those primordial gods of the Underworld, and there were many of them with their own myths, and not all were terrible.

  Osiris, the Egyptian version of him, for all intents and purposes, seemed like a half decent guy. He’d loved his wife, Isis, and judging from the fact that after he’d been chopped to little pieces by his brother—ew—she’d painstakingly collected them all and put him back together, I’d say she might’ve had the hots for him as well.