Unborn

by Natusch, Amber Lynn

  “He may leave, but it is not wise. The chaos that ensued after his short absence before took an extraordinary amount of time to right. He can go, but what he would return to would be unthinkable. He is not the horrible and cruel god others think him to be. He does, however, have a job to do, and it requires a commanding presence. Even the Underworld needs order, Kierson. Possibly more so than anywhere else.”

  Casey scoffed at my words.

  “You clearly haven’t spent enough time in Detroit. You might revise that statement once you have.”

  “We shall see. I think you underestimate my home, Casey.”

  “And I think you underestimate mine.”

  We engaged in another contest of wills, both staring the other down, waiting for the other’s gaze to falter. Neither’s did. Drew interfered eventually, purposefully diverting my attention to the food before me.

  “Khara, please eat. I don’t know what you’re accustomed to, but, if you tell me, I will be sure to have it on hand for you.”

  “I require no special attention, Drew. What you have shall be sufficient.” With those words, I took a cluster of grapes from one of the platters and plucked them off one by one, eating them methodically as the others looked on. I seemed alien to them, as though they were not certain that I required food at all. As I ate with their full attention on me, a door opened somewhere in the house, crashing closed with a thunderous noise.

  Oz entered the room in the same clothing he had worn the night before. Given that all the others had changed, I assumed his behavior was not typical and wondered if he had returned at all that evening.

  “I hope you all didn’t wait up for me,” he sneered, his arrogance stifling. Eventually his gaze landed on me, looking down his perfectly constructed nose in my direction. “Morning, new girl.”

  “Khara,” I returned, fighting the urge to rise and stand firmly against his ego. Instead, his mockery would only invite my indifference. To be so easily baited would only further make me a target of his.

  “Right,” he drawled dramatically. “Khara . . .” The skin on the back of my neck tingled as he spoke my name. He reached over me to the plate of food beyond, his face and body brushing my hair along the way. As he pulled back, he stopped beside my ear while I remained perfectly poised and unmoving.

  “Guess I’ll see you later, new girl,” he whispered, purposely reverting back to his preferred name for me.

  “Fuck off, Oz,” Kierson growled. “Go sleep your night off.”

  “Jealous, are we, Kierson? It’s not an attractive quality. You should really work on that,” he said as he retreated to the higher levels of the house. I was pleased to see him go.

  “You really have to learn to ignore him,” Kierson informed me, wrapping an arm casually around my shoulder. “He’s a wicked pain in the ass.”

  “He is not one of you. I do not understand why you tolerate him as you do.”

  “One of us,” Drew corrected, grabbing a strange-looking article from one of the platters. Ifor platte had purposely avoided it, not fully comprehending what it was. “And Oz can be extremely helpful in a battle, if it suits his purpose at the time.”

  “What is he, exactly, that makes him so lethal in battle?” I asked, curious how he could be so helpful. He seemed positively repugnant to me.

  “An angel,” Kierson blurted out of a mouth filled with food.

  “An angel?”

  “Yes, as in from the heavens above.” He dramatically looked up with his arms wide, making a production of his explanation.

  “But the only angels Father ever spoke of were the Dark Ones. Are there others? Certainly Oz is not a Dark One . . .”

  “Oz is somewhat of an exception,” Drew corrected, eyeing Kierson tightly as though he had said more than he should have. “He was an angel, a Light One, but he turned away from that. Nobody knows why. He never talks about it.”

  “Nope. Instead he whores around and acts like a real prick all the time,” Kierson added for clarification.

  “Says the walking hard-on,” Casey groaned.

  “A Light One?”

  “Yeah, you know . . . God’s favorites? The good guys? The complete opposite of the Dark Ones?” Kierson rambled, hoping something he offered in explanation would sink in. “It’s that whole yin and yang thing. The Universe has to have balance.” He looked at me quizzically for a moment before continuing. “How can you not know about them? Seriously . . . I mean, you’ve been around for a while. I would have assumed you knew more about that kind of thing.”

  “If Light Ones are God’s creatures, then I hardly see where I would have crossed paths with them. The Underworld is not a place that the virtuous would visit.”

  “Fair enough,” he replied with a shrug.

  “So, if Oz is an angel, then where are his wings?” I asked, thinking that was a perfectly reasonable question. As far as I knew, angels had them.

  “No clue. We’ve never seen them and never asked. Oz isn’t really the forthcoming type, Khara. He does what he wants, when he wants, how he wants. If he feels like telling you something, he will. If not, you will never know. That’s just how he is.”

  I sat silently, mulling over what Drew had said. I had never known that one could be unbound in a way that allowed such freedom. The implications overwhelmed my mind so much so that I was having a hard time processing them all. To live in a way that had no boundaries was beyond perplexing. I did not know one could exist like that.

  “Well, I have something to do in town,” Drew sighed, stretching as he rose from the couch. “Will you be all right here without me?”

  “I shall be fine.”

  My reply was met with a small smile.

  “I knew you’d say that.”

  “I’m coming with you. I need to find that blade I lost the other night at the club,” Kierson added as he pushed off the couch beside me. “I’m sure one of the girls on the cleaning staff will let me in.” He couldn’t hide the satisfaction in his voice, alluding to the fact that his charms could get him almost anything he wanted. Perhaps it was his boyish nature that won others over so easily—or maybe he had slept with all of them.

  “Fine,” Drew replied wearily. “Let’s go. And, Casey . . . do not make me regret leaving you here.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” His words were for D“s were rew, but his dark stare was all for me. My hair prickled lightly as I reminded myself that he was not the one I feared. It was the one he reminded me of—my father’s soldier—that elicited that response from me.

  “Pierson,” Drew called, pulling his attention away from his book momentarily. “Keep an eye on him, would you?” An absentminded nod was all he received in response. Drew muttered something under his breath about being stuck with the most insubordinate brothers as he made his way to the front door.

  “I am still tired,” I announced, taking a piece of pita off the plate. “I will be downstairs resting, if anyone should need me.”

  Without a word, I removed myself from their collective presence and tucked myself away in the confines of my underground room. The comfort I found there still surprised me. I thought of all we had discussed and came to the only conclusion I could: There was no way to get to my father or for my father to come for me. I was trapped in a world I did not wish to be in, with a strange fam

  ily that I was struggling to get to know and understand.

  The Underworld was no longer my home.

  4

  Hours later, a ruckus on the floor above me jarred me from my rest. The sound was an all-too-familiar wake-up call. Wanting to see what the trouble was, I made my way up the stairs while I tried to discern who was shouting.

  When I opened the door, I saw yet another standoff that day, only between two very different men. Oz and Drew stood toe-to-toe at the bottom of the stairs, only the narrowest of margins between their faces. The second they realized I was present, the fight appeared to be over. Oz stormed out the front door without so much as a word.


  “I interrupted,” I said apologetically.

  “No, of course not, Khara. We already finished our discussion. And, besides, you need not walk around on eggshells here. This is your home, too.”

  “For now,” Pierson added, getting up from the armchair in the far corner of the room and walking past Drew to go upstairs. I had not even seen him there, his quiet nature allowing him to easily go unnoticed when it served him.

  “For as long as she wishes to stay,” Drew countered, his tone less than friendly.

  “If my being here is a problem, I am happy to take my leave and go elsewhere.”

  “You are not going anywhere, especially not until we know more about why you came here in the first place. I do not trust Ares, nor do I trust whoever put you in this bizarre situation to start with. Something about it does not add up, and until I know you’re no longer in danger I would prefer you stay right where you are—where we can keep you safe.”

  “If you deem it best, I will stay. For now.”

  “Good. We are just about to head out for the evening. If you’re finally feeling rested, you should join us.”

  “But you said to stay right where I am . . .”

  He laughed heartily.

  “Not literally right where you are. I meant I would feel better if you stayed with us.”

  “Oh.”

  “Go change. We’ll leave when you’re ready.”

  “Is this not acceptable attire?” I asked, looking down at the tight black clothes Kierson had procured for me.

  “I think he picked something else out for where we’re going. Yo”u saw the Tenth Circle last night. It’s a little interesting . . .”

  “The Tenth Circle?” I repeated, unsure of what that referenced.

  He laughed in response.

  “The club I took you to. It’s a play on Dante’s Inferno . . .”

  I stared at him blankly, unfamiliar with his reference.

  “It’s not important. The point is that I don’t want to draw any more attention to you than you’ll naturally draw to yourself. We’re trying to make you blend in a bit more. I think that would be safest for now.”

  “I have spent a lifetime blending in. This should not be a challenging task.”

  I made my way to the bathroom where I had left the rest of Kierson’s purchases. Rifling through the bag, I searched for whatever items looked out of place. They were easily spotted. I took out the leather pants and pulled them up with a struggle, wondering what Kierson had been thinking about when he purchased them. When I found what could be passed off as a top, I stared at it for a long time before I could even figure out how to put it on. The straps and intricately woven strands had me perplexed.

  By the time I emerged from the bathroom, Drew was standing just outside the door, preparing to knock on it. His eyes widened exponentially before narrowing tightly.

  “I think perhaps Kierson got a tad carried away. Is there a jacket in there?” he asked, moving past me to look through the bag. “Here. Put this on.” He tossed a short black leather coat at me and ushered me toward the front door.

  “Where are the others?”

  “Pierson just left, and the rest will be there already. Let’s go. It’s time for you to see just what your brothers do.”

  5

  “So you police the supernatural?” I asked as Drew drove through an even more destitute section of the city. “I did not know such an organization was necessary.”

  “We do, and we are,” he replied with a furrowed brow. “There must be order kept amongst them and a clear line between the human world and ours.”

  “But we occupy the same world as the humans. Surely your task is an impossible one, is it not?”

  “There have been . . . situations to deal with over the centuries.” His jaw flexed furiously, as though he’d fought to get his statement out.

  “With the humans?”

  “Yes.”

  “And how does my brother deal with such an occurrence?”

  “Swiftly and quietly,” he replied tightly. “Though not without remorse.”

  His words were quiet and distant, his expression pained. His distaste for aspects of his job was plain and not entirely dissimilar to that of my father. Perhaps I understood his plight far better than I ever could have imagined.

  “Your responsibilities do not sit well with you always,” I said quietly, stating my observation rather than asking.

  “I have respect for all life, Khara, which is ironic given my parentage. I find no joy in taking one, human or otherwise. The fact that my station demands that of me is something I came to terms with long ago. But do not mistake my acceptance for apathy.”

  “I’ve never known someone to kill with a conscience. It is a concept as foreign to me a Fweimils the life I’ve been thrust into here with you and the others.”

  He narrowed his stare at me across the massive vehicle, ignoring the road entirely.

  “How much violence has befallen you in your time below?” he asked, his even tone belying his growing rage.

  “As much as one should expect, given the circumstances.”

  “And Hades did not protect you?”

  “He did what he could for me. But he had a job to do. He was my ward, not my constant companion. When I found myself alone, I was not immune to the evil surrounding me. I was a beacon to some of them—a plaything they could not resist. For that, I suffered, though over time I learned to adapt. The Underworld taught me much.”

  “Have you killed? To protect yourself?”

  “Have not we all?” I replied, unfaltering.

  “You have enemies there . . .” he inferred, realizing that I could not have possibly eliminated every threat ever posed to me.

  “Of course.”

  “Hades knows this?”

  “He knows of some. Others create a difficult situation for him. I choose to keep those to myself. He cannot possibly be troubled by things like that, and he is unable to keep some offenders away from me when I am not with him. It would only torment him to know. He has a kind heart where I am concerned. I do not wish to exploit that.”

  “Who are they?” he demanded in a harsh and commanding voice.

  “It matters not. You cannot stop them any more than I can—”

  “Who?” he pressed, his tone strange and commanding. I felt compelled to answer him, inexplicable though it was.

  “There are many, but only one I fear. He is a thing of nightmares. A true predator.”

  “His name . . .” he continued, unsatisfied with my response.

  “Deimos,” I replied quietly. His name brought a shiver from my core.

  An unfamiliar cracking sound echoed throughout the interior of the vehicle. I looked over at Drew to find the wheel he grasped in his hands nearly snapping under the pressure. Knowing it could not sustain much more, Drew was forced to pull over, needing to get control of his emotions before he destroyed an integral part of the Suburban.

  “You should have told Hades . . .”

  “Deimos is one of his chosen few. I did not dare disturb his inner sanctum—”

  “He is nefarious, Khara: terror and torture incarnate. If he has his sights set on you, you are in more danger than you could possibly imagine.”

  “More than you have already told me I am in? More than I was in when I was constantly in his presence?” I countered. “I am exposed here; I fully understand that fact. What you fail to understand is that Deimos is obsessed with me. He does not wish to kill me. He desires to make me his own.”

  “Which is far worse than him wanting to kill you,” Drew interjected heatedly. “What you fail to understand is that he is terror-inspiring for a reason. That is what he was created to do. He is of another realm, neither human nor god, living nor dead. He is the in-between, and, because of that, nearly impossible to stop.” He paused for a moment, collecting himself before he continued. I had not known my brothers very long, but Drew had always presented himself in such a calm and controlled manner
. To see him slowly u K hiyou fanraveling as he spoke was disturbing. “He is Eos’ brother, Khara. One of the original three. To this day, nobody knows for certain how Eos was killed. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”

  “Of course. You are reiterating the presumed severity of the situation that has not presented itself to us yet.”

  “No. What I’m saying is that I don’t know how to kill Deimos. No one does. We cannot protect you from him.”

  I pondered his concern for only a moment before replying.

  “He does not know where I was taken, Drew. I do not need protection from someone who does not currently pose a threat. He is a concern for another day.”

  Drew’s brow furrowed as he stared out at the road ahead. He said nothing, but it was clear that he was weighing the veracity of my statement with the accuracy of his. Deimos may not have known where I was at that moment, but, when word of my abduction reached him, he surely would leave the Underworld in search of me. He, too, was one of the few that could.

  If not of his own volition then by my father’s orders, he would hunt me down in an attempt to bring me back. Though he could be used as a way to return home, it was not an attractive option. Every second spent with him seemed like a century—one I would choose to forget, if possible.

  “Tell me everything you know of him, Khara. Anything that could be deemed valuable in a combat scenario.”

  “I have nothing to tell you,” I replied truthfully. “Nothing that you don’t seem to already know.”

  “There must be something, a weakness of some kind or another that we can exploit.”

  I turned to see Drew once again staring at me across the dimly lit vehicle, which still remained motionless. His expression begged me to give him an advantage—no matter how small—over Deimos.

  “He does have a weakness.”

  “What? What is it? Tell me,” he demanded, his tone suddenly hopeful.

  “Me,” I told him plainly. “His weakness is me.”

  My answer did not seem to please him.