by C. M. Owens
I hear someone shouting my name, causing me to snap my eyes open. Groaning, I walk over to the door, watching as Kimber races toward the house.
“Slade!” she shouts again, her dark user appearing just behind her, his eyes trained on me like I’m the motherfucking threat she’s running toward.
“What now?” I ask dismissively, pretending as though I don’t already know.
“We got into a fight with some of the Harbingers of Death, and Ella lost it when we got outnumbered. She’s going to implode if you don’t do something!”
The panic in her voice and the shaking of her body, all paired with her wide, terrified eyes tells me how badly Ella scares them. They’re worried about her, and they’re desperate enough to come to me for help.
Time and time again.
Bloody fools. All of them.
“I’m busy trying to find out when the next portal can be opened so that we can actually stop it this time. Feel free to do something other than hinder me,” I tell her with an unconcerned wave of my hand.
“But—”
“Forget it, Kimber,” Gage growls in interruption, grabbing her at the waist when it looks like she’s going to follow me.
I just smirk at him as I prop against my doorway.
“He’s pointless,” the dark user goes on.
Kimber’s scathing glare has me rolling my eyes. A visionless visionary/gatekeeper doesn’t worry me in the least, and that’s all she is. Gatekeepers are pointless if you don’t need a gate opened.
As soon as they disappear, I shut my door, mutter a curse, and close my eyes again, sensing that confounding princess and where she is. The second I’m locked in, I dematerialize and land right in the middle of a fucking storm.
The trees are bending and groaning, threatening to snap, as Ella’s eyes stay fully blacked out, dark laughter slipping out of her like an ominous melody. The black eyes are a rather new development.
She moves her hands like an orchestra conductor. The few harbingers she hasn’t cut down are dancing like puppets on strings to the movements of her hands.
That’s also new.
And a little twisted, even by my standards.
The second her dark, eerie eyes land on me, I push away from the tree I’m leaned against, and her storm falters. Distracted by my presence, her smile morphs into something predatory.
Same smile I always get once she’s wasted high on her power and lost to darker instincts.
She fumbles for footing, moving toward me as the storm she’s created slowly dissipates. With one snap of her wrists, the remaining harbingers start thrashing around in agony.
Again, that’s new.
Her power seems to be growing daily. But her control is less than ever before.
Screams of anguish give rhythm to her own little psychotic steps as she sways to them like it’s all just music, moving lithely toward me.
She’s so fucking strong that it’s almost unbelievable, yet far too young and inept to properly harness her power. Not to mention, a little too sheltered by her hovering family.
The second she reaches me, her nails dig into my sides, and I wince, growling down at her as she grins up at me. She never remembers these moments. Never knows how hard she fights to take something I won’t let her have.
She never remembers a damn thing once her mind is this lost.
Thank bloody hell for that.
My hand slides into her hair, jerking her head back as she laughs in an echoing tone like she’s delighted. One of her hands releases my side, and starts to slink down to my jeans.
This, however, is not really Ella.
This is just her darkest pieces shining brighter than her.
“Sorry, Princess,” I say with my own dark grin as her laughter stops abruptly and her eyes narrow. “But I can’t give you what you really want. At least not today.”
When she shoves me hard against a tree, I blur back to her, grabbing her at the waist. Her eyes heat, but I spin, sucking us through the planes just as the smell of the dark user taints my senses, proving he and the visionless visionary are back.
“Ella!” is all I hear them shout as we vanish completely from sight.
The second we’re inside my homemade prison plane full of the psychedelic mindfuckery patterns and swirling illusions of color, Ella stumbles to her knees, collapsing as she gets nauseous.
I spend the next thirty or so minutes in my usual corner, watching her as she reaches for things that aren’t really there, and falls over and over in her attempt to stand on a ground she probably assumes is moving, though it’s actually not.
The second I see her eyes sober and widen, I wave my hand and she’s gone from sight, landing her right in her very own bed, if my aim isn’t off.
Then I disappear from the plane as well, returning back to the inside of my cabin to go on with my day like nothing happened. I’ve developed an effective system for dealing with the dark princess, even though it’s certainly not helping any with her control.
Ignoring the fever in my veins and the beast clawing at me from the inside in protest of once again denying the pain-in-my-ass female, I move back to my charts, averting Kya’s undisguised judgmental eyes.
“One day, you’re going to explain to me the reason why you always help her, then claim to have zero interest in whether or not she lives or dies,” she finally says, though the words are spoken quietly, as though that makes it less of an offense.
My eyes skim over my journal pages, reminding myself of the plan I spent centuries building, because I need a reminder from time to time.
“One day, you’ll realize you’re wasting your time assuming I do give a damn,” I state with a fuck-you grin that has her tensing. “And maybe when that day comes, you’ll remember what is actually important.”
As I turn away from her, I close my eyes, seeing Ella as she stares up at the ceiling of her room, panting heavily as she continues to come down from her high. She sits up abruptly, as though a thought has occurred to her, and I watch—like a sick addict in need of a constant fix.
Suddenly she’s in a forest not too far from where I found her, and I silently curse, wondering if she’s going after yet another fight. Instead, she goes to a random basket packed with food and blood, retrieving it from the ground.
When she disappears from sight, it all goes blank in my mind, and I tilt my head. What the actual fuck? Why can’t I see her anymore?
Chapter 2
ELLA
Still dizzy and disoriented, unsure how I got from the grove of harbingers to lying on my bed, I move silently down the long tunnel as I materialize inside them.
This is where I was trying to go when the harbingers attacked Kimber and Gage. As always, I was desperate to help. And as always, I was suddenly lost to the twisted place in my mind that I’ve grown overly attached to. For some reason, getting lost is the only time I feel…free.
At least until I blank out and lose total control. But that five minutes of total control, uninhibited abandon, and ultimate power keeps pushing me to the brink, desperate to chase that feeling again.
I’m a monster.
If I don’t figure out how to stop the blacking-out part, I’m eventually going to stay a monster and my family…I don’t even want to think about what I might do to them on accident.
Everything is already a mess between our group. We once shared everything, or so I thought. Turns out, we’re all a complicated block of secrets and lies, and my anchor is slowly eroding, taking me into the darkness quicker each time I unleash my power.
I’ve done many things, but until now, I’ve never betrayed everyone I love by keeping a secret. But as I’ve learned, none of them have a problem keeping secrets from me.
Maybe this will help stabilize some of the balance that’s been upset and has me lashing out and blacking out too often right now. Frankly, I’ll try anything to regain even an ounce of control.
It alleviates some of the guilt I feel as I walk down into the dark chambers. My eyes lan
d on the familiar face that tugs at those absent guilt strings. It’s not just my people I feel as though I’m betraying.
It’s also Slade…though I have no loyalties to him, so I’m not sure why this feels so wrong.
Alton is not a prisoner, but he doesn’t seem to want to leave either. I wasn’t going to sit around and do nothing, and I showed up at the Battle of the Portal too late. Morgana—er, Hannah—was escaping, but I grabbed Alton before she could run off with him too.
I had no plans of keeping him safe. Had no plans of an accidental alliance. I was going to hand him over to Slade.
Then he spoke. He became a person instead of a rumored ghost. He sounded like a wounded victim instead of a fabled villain. And he also became valuable.
“Why are you helping me?” he asks, suspicion lacing his tone as I hand him the basket of food and packs of blood.
“Mostly because you have a lot of information I need. You helped me close the portal. You know things Slade doesn’t.”
“Because I hide in the shadows and watch like a coward,” he says, regarding me, watching for my reaction.
“Everyone has a reason for what they do. I trust you’ll share your reasons with me in time.”
He picks up the sketchbook from the floor, placing it in his lap, but his eyes remain on me.
“My brother will kill you for this. If he finds out you’ve been helping me hide, he won’t show mercy.”
I swallow down the knot in my throat. “I’m aware.”
“Yet you’ll risk it?”
“My life is not as important as my family’s. If you can give me information to help save them from Hannah, I’ll do all I can to protect you from Slade. That’s a promise.”
“He can’t kill me, but he can kill you,” he reminds me.
“He can do something far worse than death to you. Trust me. I’ve seen his plans.”
A pained expression crosses his face. “It’s never a good idea to assume you know Slade’s plans. They’re usually far more intricate than we’ll ever understand,” he says quietly.
“This one is pretty straightforward,” I argue with a little compassion.
I want to feel sorry for him, but that nagging guilt remains, stripping me of any possible sympathy. He reads it in my eyes too.
“You wonder how any brother could ever decide it was better to let his brother suffer in agony? You’re wondering how any brother could ever betray the other?” he asks, reading my mind.
Unsure what to say, I answer, “As I said, I’m sure you’ll explain your reasons in time.”
His lips purse. “If you’re planning to risk your life, then you should know I only live to spare his life. I only stay hidden to spare his soul… To spare him the cost of damning his brother—because a decision like that, no matter how warranted or desperate, will destroy everything inside him. I would know.”
I’m not sure what to say to that.
He passes me the sketchbook, and I stare down in confusion at the picture he has drawn with such careful attention to detail.
“Who is this?” I ask him.
“The reason I betrayed my brother,” he says on a pained breath. “If you want to know everything, then prepare to have a piece of your soul stained for all eternity.”
A shaky breath leaves me as I lower myself to a chair and nod.
The underground tunnel is marked with all sorts of protective signs and symbols. Alton knew of its existence, and he added a number of symbols I’ve never seen before. They look ancient in design, and I have no idea what language he chanted when creating them.
He’s resting against a stone wall, sitting on the floor like it’s comfortable. The dank air around us, along with the constant drip, drip, drip of the cave roof overhead doesn’t make this too cozy, but he seems overly at ease.
I suppose, next to the atrociously inhumane prison hell he survived in for centuries, anything is comfortable.
“So what’s her name?” I ask, holding up the sketch of a beautiful woman. “Someone you two fought over? Is that why you betrayed him?”
He snorts and scoffs at the same time. “No. No woman could have ever torn us apart in the way you mean.” He looks down at his lap, staring at his fingernails like something is on them. “I’m a Gemini Twin, but more importantly, I’m a creature shifter—just like you.”
“My family refers to me as a creature goddess, same as my mother. And father, only he’s obviously not called a goddess.”
One corner of his mouth lifts in a sad smile as his eyes come back up to meet mine.
“No, not like them,” he says softly. “We’re all very complex and unique. Then of course, your line is cursed. All the ones of your royal blood struggle with the darkest recesses of their mind, losing themselves to the worst of the madness that accompanies our very powerful kind. It’s the balance of magic.”
“My mother uses hers just fine now,” I decide to point out.
“Your mother is powerful, but not close to as powerful as you,” he volleys.
“What does any of that have to do with this woman?” I ask dubiously, my eyes narrowing.
Is he trying to get me to admit my mother isn’t as powerful? Is this him playing me? Does he know of her never-ending pregnancy?
He collects the sketchbook from my hand, bringing it back to him. After a beat of just staring at the drawing of the unnamed woman, he turns the page and starts sketching again.
“One thing all creatures such as us do have in common, is what, Ella?”
“Am I being quizzed?” I ask, my eyes still narrowed on him.
“Hardly. You’d surely fail at your young age.”
For the first time, his snarky attitude reminds me of Slade, and for some stupid-ass reason, that puts me a little at ease.
“We can all shift into most forms of immortals, using their powers like they’re our own, but when we combine all of them at once, our eyes turn silver and we become the most lethal being. Or at least, we should be. Hannah is cheating,” I answer.
He smiles grimly, nodding absently. “Hannah isn’t stronger. She’s just been planning this for so long that all of you—I as well—are playing catch up. Her advantage comes from calculated maneuvers, hidden agendas, and unpredictable surprises, not strength. She’s a self-made anomaly.”
He continues to sketch; I impatiently await the answer that is supposed to explain why he betrayed Slade and sentenced him to so much pain that his immortal, unscarrable body became riddled with scars.
“But that’s not what I was referring to,” he says as though he’s answering a question I missed. “One thing all creatures such as us have in common is that we’re the only ones with a true, designated mate—if you discount the dragons who just invaded our world, that is.”
I bristle. He notices.
His eyes barely lift, as if he’s expecting me to comment. When I don’t, he smirks and resumes his task of sketching.
“The Gemini Twins were destined to be interconnected. One feels pain, we both feel it. It gave us a boost in power, but it was decidedly a curse,” he states matter-of-factly, no emotion in his voice.
“I already know this. You severed the link because—”
“You don’t know anything, Ella, I assure you,” he interrupts, turning the page before I can see what he finished sketching. He starts a fresh sketch, and I lift my eyes to study him.
“So tell me.”
Without looking at me, he says, “My brother’s end-goal is not to torture me, though I’m sure that will be a lovely perk to him. His intentions are to save me.”
That has my brow furrowing in confusion.
“I can guarantee you that’s not what he said,” I argue, wondering how he became this disillusioned, when only moments ago he seemed to be on the right page.
He smiles like that’s a good thing, but continues to sketch, never glancing at me.
“I’m sure. Slade is very cautious. He’d never tell anyone his true intentions, least of all you.”
Again, I bristle.
Again, he glances at me like he’s noticed.
Intrigue in his eyes, he stops sketching and studies me as he turns his notebook over in his lap, once again hiding the image from me.
“The Gemini curse was obviously a curse when we found the cure written in a prophecy. The only reason cures exist is to free someone.”
“Always a damn prophecy,” I grumble under my breath.
His smile stretches wider. “Indeed. It was told the end of days would come, and the Gemini Twins would be there for it. However, only one has to die. Slade is trying to ensure he’s that one.”
Confused, I shake my head. “If one of you dies, the other dies. And I can assure you, if it wasn’t so, Slade would have already killed you.”
“Just as you believe he would kill you for helping me,” he says with a shrug. “When we both know he’d simply save you.”
“You’re the one who pointed out he’d kill me. I feel like you’re trying to fuck with my head right now, and I don’t have time for this.”
Just as I stand, he speaks again. “You think you know how I severed the first bond between us, but you don’t. And one twin can die if the final bond is severed. But only Slade can do that, and he’s waiting, biding his time, so that he can inflict the least amount of damage to you before he follows through with his suicidal plan and sacrifices himself in order to punish me.”
“How would him dying punish you?” I ask, lowering myself back to my chair as an unexplainable pang of pain forms in my chest.
“Because he knows I’d never end my life if he sacrificed himself in an effort to save me. And I’d walk alone on this plane for all eternity—no family, no mate, no…one at all. He does feel as though I betrayed him. He feels as though I was stupid and weak. He feels as though I abandoned him when he needed me the most, despite the countless times he’s always been there for me.”
He pauses as he clears his throat and blinks back tears when his gaze drops to his lap. Wordlessly, he flips the notebook back over so I can see the sketch, and my head tips back as bile rises to my throat.
On the page is the same woman, only this time, her belly is rounded and tears are on her face.