Gabriel's Hope (#1, Rhyn Eternal)

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Gabriel's Hope (#1, Rhyn Eternal) Page 18

by Lizzy Ford

Deidre waited for the portal to close before she rose. She paced and caught sight of her reflection in the windows. For a long moment, she stared. Her insides were shaking, no longer settled by his gentle magic.

  She’d told Gabriel she wanted to live. There was no uncertainty about dying. Living promised much more that she’d be unable to control: the Immortal society into which she’d been sucked, a potential boyfriend who still seemed to waffle about whether or not he wanted to be with her, absolutely no sense of normalcy or stability. Did Immortals have jobs? Houses? Pets?

  Did it matter, if she was able to live a full life? To turn her bucket list into a to-do list? Her gaze went to the kitchen, and she smiled as she recalled Gabriel putting up her latest find. She wanted a life filled with chili pepper lights.

  And a chance with Gabriel.

  Her smile faded. He didn’t answer her plea to reassure her some part of him cared for her. She thought him sitting with her so long on the beach was an indication. Why then wasn’t he willing to admit it?

  Deidre wiped her face and forced herself to face another possibility. Was she willing to give life a second shot, even if Gabriel wasn’t in the picture and she had no more normal friends after Wynn’s betrayal?

  Yes. Maybe.

  Still cold from the chilly beach, she went up to her room and changed into jeans and a sweater. Tying comfortable shoes, she drew a deep breath.

  “One percent chance my ass,” she muttered. “Not when I have a guarantee from some freakish stranger I met in a dark alley.”

  Her confidence faltered. She reminded herself that the man named Darkyn promised to help for free, whichever way she decided to go. She could always double-check and walk away, if he decided not to honor his deal.

  Deidre called a portal and stood before it. She breathed deeply several times, nerves and instincts unsettled. She was going to do it. She was going to live - and maybe even share a life with someone like Gabriel. It was terrifying, but she felt invigorated, hopeful.

  She strode into the shadow world and stopped.

  “Darkyn,” she called, uncertain where he hid out.

  “I thought you’d come back.”

  Deidre whirled, startled at how quickly he appeared. His slow smile scared her while the penetrating gaze chipped away at more of her resolve.

  “I, uh, thought about what you said,” she said.

  He clasped his arms behind his back, waiting politely.

  “I want to live. But” – she rushed on – “I want to clarify that I’m not going to owe you anything and there’s no weird contract with fine print that says you get to claim my firstborn child or anything.”

  “There is one catch.”

  “Oh.” Her heart tumbled. “In that case, I’ll just go home.”

  “Aren’t you curious?” he asked. “There’s no obligation in knowing what it is. I never offer deals without revealing the terms.”

  She hesitated, growing uncomfortable in the clammy in-between place with the scary stranger. Maybe Gabriel’s option was best. If it didn’t work, she’d die while under.

  Death wasn’t what she wanted.

  Deidre considered how long it took for her to accept her impending death. Did she ever? She’d faced the reality but held out some hope it wasn’t inevitable. In a matter of a couple of days, she not only accepted there was a chance to live, but she’d decided to pursue whatever she had to in order to guarantee it.

  Gabriel was right. She wasn’t ready to give up. The logical side of her understood that Darkyn’s offer of fixing her was a better option than dying on the operating table. Her instincts, however, were telling her to run.

  Feeling trapped before hearing his terms, her eyes grew misty. Suddenly, she was afraid she’d be tempted to pay whatever price he demanded, no matter how high. He didn’t have the pointed teeth of a demon, which she hoped was indication enough she wasn’t about to make a deal with the devil.

  “Yes, I want to know the terms,” she whispered and braced herself for disappointment.

  “To save you, I need to remove the tumor Wynn caused to expand in your head.”

  She flinched at the painful reminder. Darkyn appeared amused.

  “The deal is simple. Your life in exchange for keeping the tumor I remove.”

  “That’s it?” she asked, surprised. “I won’t be turned into a vegetable or an animal or anything else weird?”

  “You will be as you are now. The only difference is that you will not have a tumor killing you. You will have an eternity with your mate.”

  Her chest tightened at the thought. There was no guarantee Gabriel wanted her, but she’d have a chance. After all, he promised that he’d try and let her rewrite the awful terms of their relationship, if she survived.

  There was a soul in her tumor. Thus far, no one seemed interested in it, aside from Darkyn. Unable to shake the memory of her interaction with the soul from the lake, she felt protective of the one in her head. She wished she had a moment to talk to Gabriel, the deity charged with protecting the dead, to make sure she wasn’t doing something wrong.

  “What will you do to the soul inside?” she ventured. “You won’t hurt it?”

  “Absolutely not. I plan on restoring its life as well.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “That is not a concern of this deal.”

  This … deal sounded too good to be true. He wanted the soul in her head badly. Why not kill her and take it? Would it be hurt if she died before they removed it? Was that what no one was willing to risk doing? Was that why Gabriel promised her the world if she survived the operation? Because they wanted to keep her alive long enough to extract it then walk away?

  No, not Gabriel. Sometimes, she heard longing in his voice, the same yearning she experience for him. Perhaps he feared getting close to her if she was going to die in a few months, seeing as how past-Deidre crushed his heart, too.

  Deidre needed that chance with him. Darkyn alone was able to give it to her.

  “Okay,” she said slowly. “One more thing. I’m sick of pain. I don’t want any of this to hurt.”

  “Not even a little?”

  “Everything completely painless from here on out.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, but I agree.” He reached out to her. “Take my hand, and the deal is official.”

  Deidre approached but hesitated again to take his hand. It was too easy. Nothing yet in the Immortal world had been as easy as this bargain. Reluctantly, she took his hand. Cold fire shot through her. She shivered.

  “The deal is done.” Darkyn dropped her hand.

  “How can you do what Gabriel and the Immortals can’t?” she asked.

  “My magic is that of the forbidden,” he said. “Every deity has a different nature and source for their magic.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I will show you.” He strode towards a dark wall of the in-between place. Deidre followed, barely able to make out the shape of a doorway that pulsed darker than night. “We must remove it in my domain in order for my magic to work properly. It will take a great deal of power to preserve you, remove the tumor and heal the damage.”

  Dread filled her. He paused at the doorway. As if sensing her fear, Darkyn held out his hand once more.

  “Come,” he said.

  The deal was done. Deidre accepted his hand and let him take her into a new part of the Immortal world. The moment the shadow world cleared from her sight, she wanted to run. She stood on a covered landing of a fortress made of black stones overlooking a parched desert beneath dual suns too faded to provide anything other than indirect light.

  “Welcome to Hell,” Darkyn said, releasing her.

  “Oh, god,” she breathed.

  “There are a couple of things we must establish up front.”

  She whirled. The portal was gone, and Darkyn was in front of her again. Deidre watched in growing horror as his teeth turned from normal to sharpened, and two long canines half the size of her index fi
nger lengthened from his gum. Like a demon’s.

  “It will require a great deal of effort on my part to keep this painless. Pain brings me pleasure. It goes against my nature to avoid it,” he was saying.

  Forbidden magic. Hell. She made a deal with a demon. Starting to panic, Deidre sought some escape route.

  “Pay attention.” He snapped his fingers in front of her face. “If you ever want to leave here, you will follow my instructions.”

  “We have a deal,” she whispered.

  “A deal is as much about the spoken terms as the unspoken ones,” he replied with a predatory smile. “You didn’t bargain to leave here once you arrived. The portal system does not work in Hell for mortals. You bargained for your life and pain. Do you want to leave?”

  She nodded, forcing herself to listen.

  “You will find your chances improve if you do exactly as I say,” he said. He circled her as he had upon their first meeting. “You also didn’t bargain against not becoming a blood monkey while you were here either.”

  “Blood monkey?”

  An image not of her own creation pushed itself into her mind. It was of Darkyn’s fangs sinking into the delicate skin of her neck. Her body began to shake, and her hands were clammy.

  “I have your attention now,” he noted. “To keep things … painless for my new blood monkey, it will require discipline on both our parts. I won’t hurt you. You don’t run, and you don’t fight me. I love a chase and a fight, but the chances of me forgetting not to dull the pain increase if you resist.”

  Another image flashed, and Deidre gasped, covering her face with her hands in an effort to block it. It was of her running and Darkyn tearing out her throat, after doing much more horrible things to her.

  “Understood?” he asked.

  Gabriel’s one percent was a cakewalk compared to this.

  “Why is this happening?” she asked. “What did I do wrong?”

  “You will get what you came for,” he assured her. “In the meantime, I can’t have you running from the Dark One. He is not merciful.”

  “Dark One. My god.”

  “Only a deity can turn a human immortal, which is what it’ll take to keep you alive while we remove the tumor. Be brave, love. You’ve made it this far.” The words were mocking rather than encouraging.

  Deidre did her best to stabilize her breathing. She wiped away tears. She deserved whatever happened. If she didn’t, past-Deidre did. She wasn’t about to get her throat torn out before she found some way to get out of here. Gabriel would come for her, if she didn’t return.

  She hoped.

  Her gaze traveled from the gloomy fortress to the sickly sky to the creature before her, whose fangs seemed to have grown even longer.

  If Gabriel didn’t come, it was because she fucked up bad making a deal with some shady creature she found wandering in the shadow world. Her life was about to enter its next phase of the nightmare.

  “What are your rules?” Darkyn asked, pulling her from her mind.

  “N…no running. No fighting you,” she said in a hushed voice. “No pain.”

  “We’ll see how badly you want to leave. Come here.”

  It took every ounce of her willpower not to flee hysterically or give in to the desire to collapse and sob. Shaking and terrified, Deidre nonetheless held his gaze as she closed the distance between them, until she stood less than a foot away.

  Darkyn gripped her neck with one hand and tilted her head to the side.

  She closed her eyes and prayed.

  “Humans are a delicacy. Female humans in Hell with a soul unblemished by evil? I can’t remember the last time I tasted one,” he whispered. He nuzzled her neck.

  Deidre braced her hands against his chest, tunnel-vision forming. She felt his fangs sink into her skin and heard him sucking out her lifeblood. Disgusted, she was also relieved there was no pain. From the visions he showed her, he was capable of things she’d never dreamed of. He didn’t drink long, and she was too afraid of moving to wipe away the tears rolling down her face.

  “Sweet,” he said in a thick voice as he withdrew. “Like honey. You won’t like trying to earn your way out of here, but I will.”

  “Is it even possible for me to leave?”

  “Possible? Yes. Probability is an entirely different issue.”

  She opened her eyes at his response. He released her and turned away.

  “Come. Wynn’s magic is killing you faster than anticipated. You need to prepare.”

  Deidre trailed him numbly from the landing into the fortress. It was dim inside the stronghold, and the first torch they crossed that burned with black flames mesmerized her long enough for her to lose sight of Darkyn around a corner. She hurried to catch up. He led her past closed doors and through hallways carved out of black stone.

  Deeper into Hell.

  Breathe. Focus. Live.

  She wasn’t going to make it long here if she lost control.

  The demons they passed bowed to Darkyn, their eyes riveted to her once the scary creature strode by. They all looked hungry.

  She quickened her pace, not wanting to end up the dinner of some demon before she had a chance to try to plan an escape. Assuming she hadn’t missed more fine print in her deal with Darkyn, she wanted to survive the removal of the tumor.

  Darkyn paused in front of a door guarded by two demons. One opened it for him, and she trailed him into a large bedchamber complete with a hearth burning black flames.

  “The mate of a deity will be provided what hospitality we offer,” Darkyn said.

  “I take it that doesn’t extend to blood monkey status.”

  She backed away as he approached, feeling the threat without needing to see it on his face.

  “It extends as far it pleases me to extend it.” His sharp tone made her jump. He reached for her neck again.

  Deidre sucked in a breath and held it, squeezing her eyes closed. Instead of grabbing her, he slid something cool around her neck.

  “To mark you as my blood monkey,” he said. “You have five minutes to change.”

  She didn’t open her eyes or release her breath until she heard the door close behind him. Deidre choked back a sob.

  “I am so sorry, Gabriel,” she whispered.

  She had to stay focused. Swiping at tears, she registered Darkyn’s words as her eyes identified the dark clothing laid out on the bed. Deidre lifted the dress with trembling hands. It was muted black, made out of material smoother than silk that draped over her arm like a second skin.

  “I can do this,” she told herself. “I kinda don’t have a choice, since I fucked up.”

  She changed out of her familiar clothing into the dress that matched the black world around her. The simple cut reminded her of something she’d seen in movies about ancient Rome: loose-fitted and airy, it was secured by a thin cord around her neck. The material hugged the natural curves of her body, pooling at the top of her feet. It was light enough that she felt naked, especially with the cut that left her back, arms and shoulders completely exposed.

  Her fingertips touched the metal choker he slid around her neck. It was solid and slender with no release mechanism or clasp. There was scarring on her neck from where he’d bitten her. Deidre dropped her hand quickly from the knotted skin, alarm pulsing through her.

  He was going to turn her Immortal. What did that mean?

  Fuck the tumor. If she saw an escape route, she was gone.

  “Do as Darkyn says, Deidre.”

  She spun at the voice, startled to see Mr. Checkmate, the man she’d met on the beach when she arrived at the Sanctuary the first time. He was out of place, a bright light in the corner of the dimly lit room, dressed casually in jeans, T-shirt and hiking boots.

  “This will not provide much comfort, but Darkyn was your only real chance of living,” he added. “Assuming you survive what he does to you.”

  “I’m kinda hoping I don’t right now,” she said. “Who are you? How did you
get in here?”

  “Deities tend to do what they want,” Mr. Checkmate replied.

  “You’re … you can’t be the Dark One.”

  “I am not,” he said with a wide grin. “I’m worse. I’m Fate.”

  “You got that right,” she muttered. “You’ve been kicking my ass for awhile now. I don’t suppose you’re here to cut me a break?”

  “I just did.”

  “Obey the psycho demon that wants to suck my blood.”

  “Exactly.”

  “If I do, will everything be okay?” she asked, searching his face for any indication she survived the ordeal and left Hell.

  “That’s not how the Future works. There is no single event that determines the outcome of one’s destiny,” he said with a shake of his head. “But, if you do this one thing, you increase your chances of being relatively okay by about thirty seven percent for a total of just under fifty-fifty.”

  “Do what the demon says and almost have a fifty percent chance of surviving. Disobey him and I have like, a ten percent chance.”

  “You’ve got it.”

  “I’m under the impression your kind doesn’t do things for free. Why are you helping me? Do you have an even worse vengeance planned?” she demanded.

  “Better. I have a preferred outcome, one that involves you surviving and the soul embedded in your head not.”

  She touched her head self-consciously. Darkyn wanted the soul alive while Fate wanted the opposite. Who was she more likely to side with? As if sensing her doubt and growing panic, Fate drew near her, face grave.

  “Deidre, you must do exactly as I say,” Fate said. “You must obey him, no matter how much you do not wish to. Your life is not the only one dependent upon this.”

  “Gabriel,” she breathed. “Oh, god, have I put him in danger?”

  Fate’s eyes changed colors rapidly. His subtle magic brushed by her, through her. It was warm, like Gabriel’s, not cold like Darkyn’s. Comforted by the familiar sensation, she sensed she was better off trusting Fate than the Dark One.

  “No,” he replied. “If you do as I tell you, you will increase his chances of surviving the destiny Darkyn intends to inflict upon him.”

  “I’d never do anything to put Gabriel in danger,” she whispered, distressed by the idea. Surviving her own plight meant nothing if there was no Gabriel for her to return to. “I’ll listen to you. I’ll do whatever Darkyn wants me to. I swear it.”

  “Good. I like Gabriel,” Fate said, the intensity leaving his features. “He makes me laugh.”

  Her brow furrowed at the odd sentiment.

  “It’s not easy to do, when you’ve been alive since the time-before-time,” he added with a wink. His eyes went to the door suddenly. “Darkyn comes. Don’t tell him I was here. We’re not on good terms right now.”

  She heard the door open and turned. Without looking, she felt the loss of Fate’s warm energy.

  “Come,” Darkyn ordered without entering.

  Deidre obeyed. Afraid of what the demon was going to ask her to do, she was resolved not to hurt Gabriel by ignoring Fate’s warning.

  “Rules,” Darkyn stated as she joined him in the hallway.

  “No running. No fighting,” she recited anxiously.

  He reached for her neck. She flinched but didn’t otherwise move.

  “Good.” He dropped his hand and started down the hallway. “Come meet the Dark One.”

  Swallowing hard, Deidre followed. He strode through more corridors than she was able to count, down several flights of stairs and finally to a short, dead end hallway with a ceiling that towered ten stories above. One set of massive metal doors was all the hall contained. Darkyn strode to them and placed his hand on one. It cracked open silently with enough room for them to enter.

  Her courage almost gave out at the idea of walking into the devil’s personal hangout. Deidre felt woozy and paused to steady her breathing. After a moment, she entered the room.

  It wasn’t what she expected. There was no way for her to measure the size of the chamber, for the darkness inside was more impenetrable than night, with the exception of a circle of light ten meters from the door. Darkyn waited for her in the circle that stretched about five meters across. She went to him, unable to see through the darkness even while walking through it.

  The door closed with an ominous boom that echoed throughout what sounded like a massive but empty chamber.

  Her tomb.

  Skin clammy with nervous sweat, Deidre concentrated on taking deep breaths.

  “You may want to close your eyes.” Darkyn’s laugh was sinister.

  She snapped them closed, but not before she saw him slide into the darkness. There was a long moment of silence from the chamber around her, filled by the sound of her breathing as it grew more erratic, louder. She thought she heard something stir once, twice, before she was certain. The scraping of leather against leather, the hollow clatter of stone and shale, the rustle of whatever creature settled behind her.

  Near full-blown panic again, Deidre was midway through her second step towards the door when the creature snatched her. At first, the thick leather around her neck felt like a whip. A second settled across the lower half of her face and two more around her torso. They adjusted around her like fingers, leathery and long enough to wrap around her body.

  I can do this for Gabriel. She repeated the sentence over and over to try to block out what her senses told her about the size of the monster.

  The fingers around her mouth and neck maneuvered her head to the side until her ear was near her shoulder to expose the delicate area before both fell away. She stayed in place. At the touch of the first fang, her eyes flew open. There was no pain, as promised, but the canine was the size of butcher knife.

  It slid into her neck, the sound making her nauseous. The second canine slid into her body, just below her collarbone. The creature took a sip of her like from a straw. It left her lightheaded. The second sucked the strength out of her body and brought tunnel vision. Instead of a third drink, a flash of cold fire was forced through the fangs into her body. She felt the cold circulating but no pain.

  The creature’s third sip drove her into the darkness between consciousness and sleep. Her body no longer under her control, Deidre sank into the state, clinging to the words of Fate about helping Gabriel. She registered nothing but darkness and cold for awhile before the cold began to fade, and the night behind her eyelids lightened. Her head felt heavy and like it was stuffed with cotton, the way she felt when she came to after surgery.

  “Deidre?” Dr. Wynn’s voice penetrated the haze.

  What had he tried this time? Deidre didn’t remember what this operation was supposed to do.

  “If you can hear me, give me a sign.”

  She gave him the same sign she always did: a small smile.

  “Good. Relax. Come back when you’re ready.”

  She knew if she woke up too fast, she’d feel like she had a hangover. So, she hovered in the quiet darkness for awhile, until the sounds of the outside world were too loud for her to ignore.

  Deidre opened her eyes and blinked rapidly, realizing the black she tried to clear from her sight was the black ceiling of the operating room. Confused, she tried again to remember what procedure Dr. Wynn was performing today. She’d been through so many …

  “Good news or bad news?” he asked, appearing in her vision.

  “Bad,” she replied. Her mouth was dry.

  “You’re going to have more scars.”

  “Good.”

  “It’s gone.”

  “Okay.” She closed her eyes. Her head didn’t hurt, but it felt weird. Heavy.

  “Darling, did you hear me?”

  “Maybe,” she replied. She reached up to her head, surprised it wasn’t bandaged and she still had all her hair. “Wait, what happened?”

  “I’ll show you. Can you sit up?”

  Deidre felt groggy but not like she normally did post-op.
She sat up. If anything, she was exhausted and in a recovery room unlike any she’d ever seen before. The advanced medical equipment and sterile scent in the air were the same. The walls, however, were as black as the ceiling.

  Stone fortress. Hell. She wore the black dress still.

  She gasped. Wynn looked up from his position nearby.

  “Oh, god, what did you do to me this time?” she asked, grappling with fuzzy memories.

  “Believe it or not, I helped. Look.”

  She focused on the chart he held up to the light. It looked like a cat scan of a brain, but it wasn’t hers. This one didn’t have a tumor. It was normal.

  Dark chamber. Leathery fingers wrapped around her body. Fangs.

  Shuddering, she touched the places where the beast’s canines sank into her body. Wynn was right. These scars were huge and knotted.

  “You mean … it’s gone?” she asked, the world registering at last. “Just like that?”

  “Gone,” he replied. “You will live a very long life.”

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded. “This is Hell, isn’t it?”

  “I got dragged down here involuntarily to make sure you survived, unlike someone who made a deal with the Dark One.” He frowned at her and lowered the chart. “You have no idea what you’ve done, Deidre.”

  She shivered. She pushed herself off the bed and tested her body. Aside from fatigue, her body moved and felt the way it should.

  “I’ve been instructed to show you to your chamber, after which I’ll be released. Allegedly,” Wynn said. “Then I’m off to tell Gabriel his mate is stuck in Hell.”

  Adrenaline started through her system again, clearing some of the fog in her mind. Deidre met the gaze of her betrayer.

  “One might argue this is my fault,” Wynn added. “If I hadn’t tried to kill you in the first place, you wouldn’t be a blood slave to the Dark One.”

  “Silver lining,” she whispered. “Please.”

  “There is no silver lining when you make a deal with him.”

  Except that Fate said there was. She couldn’t voice the words. Her chest was too tight. Deidre said nothing.

  “Come. I’m anxious to leave this place,” Wynn said and strode to the door.

  She trailed, glancing over her shoulder when the two demons outside the recovery room followed. She rubbed her arms and touched the slender choker at her neck.

  Their deal was done. The tumor was gone. How long did Fate expect her to stay here?

  They didn’t go far, for which she was grateful. Wynn led her to a door guarded by another demon and stepped aside.

  “Thank you, Wynn,” she murmured. She wasn’t sure why she expected him to speak but found herself wishing he’d say something.

  He didn’t.

  The final nail in the coffin of their friendship left her feeling depressed. Deidre opened the door into the familiar chamber and closed it behind her, leaning against it. She was in a lot of trouble, but at least, if Wynn left, he’d tell Gabriel where to find her. From there, she didn’t want to think of what might or might not happen.

  She pushed herself away from the door and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She was halfway across the room when what she’d seen registered. Her reflection was seated, and her hair was blond. It wasn’t a reflection.

  Deidre froze.

  “What have you done to my hair?” the female voice asked.

  Oh, god. Not this bitch. Deidre took a deep breath and faced the deity previously known as Death. Gabriel’s ex-lover was identical to her in every way, even garbed in the same dress. The only difference was her hair and the eyes that turned from white to black to every color in between. She sat in a chair by the black hearth.

  “I like pink,” Deidre replied. “What are you doing here?”

  “Recovering, like you.”

  “From…. Were you …?” she pointed to her head.

  Past-Death’s cold smile did not reach her eyes. Deidre studied her, picking up other signs of how different they were. There was no human color in the woman’s pale cheeks, and her expression was emotionless, as if carved from marble. She stood, her bearing regal and her walk smooth, without the cheerful bounce Deidre had in hers. Everything about the deity screamed careful control.

  “I experienced your life with you. I admit, I expected a human existence to be a little less boring,” past-Death mused.

  Deidre was still as the creature walked around her, scrutinizing her.

  “So you just rode around in my head for twenty six years?” she asked, confused.

  “Pretty much. Darkyn was supposed to find me much earlier, according to our agreement.” Past-Death shrugged. “It’s for your benefit he did not. Wynn’s work on us kept you safe and me trapped.”

  “I don’t think that was his intention,” Deidre muttered under her breath.

  “I want to thank you for the use of your existence,” past-Death continued. “You let me see my Gabriel in a whole new light. Tender, compassionate, weak, like a human, and failing miserably to take my place. Also, no surprise, given his origins.”

  Deidre suddenly liked her even less. No Immortal alive had a good opinion of the deity, and the mocking way she spoke about Gabriel infuriated Deidre.

  “I made you in my image. Incredible handiwork, don’t you agree?” Past-Death stepped away from her, admiring her like she was a clay pot kilned in the backyard by a bored goddess.

  “Fortunately, I’m nothing like you, or I would’ve died long ago as a human,” Deidre replied. “Gabriel wouldn’t have fallen for me, either.”

  This drew the deity’s attention. “Interesting. You don’t realize you’re disposable to me. I needed you for awhile, and I no longer do.”

  “Thank god. I can go on living a normal life.”

  “No. You are the preordained mate of a deity, just as I am. Your fate still lies within the Immortal society.”

  Past-Death turned and drew her hair to the side in one elegant motion. Deidre’s breath caught at the name scrolled across the narrow shoulders.

  Gabriel.

  Deidre recalled what Katie told her about how Immortals only got one mate in the entirety of their lifetimes. How were they both Gabriel’s mates?

  “With your deal with Darkyn complete, you’ll live a very long life.” Past-Death appeared amused by the idea. “As will I with my Gabriel.”

  “You made one with Darkyn, too?” Deidre asked. She purposely didn’t take the bait that Gabriel might choose his ex over her. She wanted to deck her mirror image. “Or you wouldn’t be hanging out here.”

  “I did, and it’s complete. We have one other small matter between us, but” past-Death smiled again “I don’t lose. The others thought they trapped me, and here I am, against all odds.”

  “You left Gabriel a mess. You really think he’ll welcome you back?”

  “He will if he thinks I’m you.”

  Deidre laughed. “My god. You might have a better chance if you tell him you’re you.”

  “Are you that blind, human? Gabriel wouldn’t let himself near you in order to protect you. He fell in love with you .. with us … the first night on the beach. Unwillingly.” Past-Death’s chuckle was as warm as her eyes. “But you did what I knew you would. You made him love us in a way he never loved me.”

  The coldness of fear settled into Deidre. How did she warn Gabriel from here?

  “You think Darkyn will let you leave here?” she asked. “Or do you have an escape plan you’d like to share?”

  “Darkyn won’t stand in my way,” past-Death said with confidence. “There are strings attached to anyone raised from the dead-dead, but these are of no concern to a deity like they might be to a little human like you.”

  Toby was right. This woman was a mega-bitch. Deidre wanted to wring Gabriel’s neck for wasting thousands of years with someone like this. Was it true what past-Death said about Gabriel? Did he love Deidre?

  She’d never understood his waffling.
Whenever she started to think he cared for her, he flipped. Was it to protect her? Or to protect his own heart? Did it matter, if he loved her either way?

  Past-Death was going to replace Deidre in Gabriel’s life. Deidre rubbed her face, her head still fuzzy from whatever the Dark One did to her. Gabriel would know. There was no way he couldn’t. It took him almost two weeks, but he’d figured out that Deidre was nothing like his ex-lover.

  She needed to get out of here, to warn him before the deity did something horrible to Gabriel. Deidre paced to the fire. It gave off heat despite the black flames. She thought hard about all she’d learned since arriving to Hell.

  “Can I ask you something?” Deidre asked.

  “Ask away.” The mocking note in past-Death’s voice irked Deidre.

  “Am I … am I an Immortal now?”

  “Darkyn turned you. Like Gabriel, you’ll always be of human origin.”

  “Okay. You probably won’t consider taking me with you when you leave here?”

  “You are expendable,” past-Death replied. “The purposes for which I created you are complete. I do not need you any longer.”

  Ouch. Past-Death was going to be brutal to deal with, if Deidre ever got out of Hell. The powers of a deity with the sociopathic tendencies of a mass murderer? The jealous bitch wouldn’t hesitate to kill off the competition, along with probably everyone else within miles.

  What did Gabriel see in her?

  “Final question. I thought the Immortals said they only get one mate,” Deidre started, puzzled. “How can Gabriel have two?”

  “He doesn’t. He has one. The deity originally preordained to be his mate.”

  This response was more guarded, less amused, enough to tip off Deidre that there was more to the story. She had no clue what.

  “We both bear his name. I mean, I guess there could be two Gabriels in the Immortal world,” she said.

  “Only one of us bears his name.” Past-Death’s smugness was back.

  Deidre clenched her jaw in irritation. If Gabriel didn’t see the difference between the two women when past-Death showed up on his doorstep, he deserved a lifetime with this arrogant bitch.

  “Pretty sure we both do,” Deidre replied.

  “Are you certain?”

  Deidre clenched her fists, uncertain what game the deity played with her.

  “Have a look,” past-Death urged her.

  Deidre turned to see the blonde woman standing in front of an open wardrobe. A mirror lined the inside of one door. Foreboding filled her at the expression on the deity’s face, like she’d just won the lottery.

  Deidre crossed the room, terrified she’d find Gabriel’s name gone.

  “We are destined to become the mates of deities. Deities, Ancients and Immortals all have a match,” past-Death explained. “I’m Gabriel’s preordained mate. I created you long before I ceased to exist by morphing a part of my soul with yours. You are mostly human, but you are also part of me. You were enough me to convince the laws governing Immortal mating that you were Gabriel’s mate, until I reappeared a few hours ago and set things straight, including telling Fate to fuck off.”

  “You’re the two percent of me that’s not human?”

  “Correct.”

  “I don’t think I get it.” Deidre shivered and paused a few feet from the deity. She had a mild headache, and the tension between her shoulders was aching from the stress of the discussion. Wired, emotional energy made it hard to concentrate as she listened.

  “I don’t expect a human to understand. What should matter to you is that you’re going to be the mate of a deity. It’s no small honor,” past-Death said.

  I want Gabriel, Deidre screamed silently. “I need to get out of here.”

  “You’ll never leave Hell,” past-Death continued, oblivious to Deidre’s growing distress. “Darkyn was recently promoted to the Dark One. He won’t let you go.”

  Somehow, Deidre wasn’t surprised the creepy demon everyone bowed to was the Dark One. If Fate looked like a frat boy and past-Death like a sorority girl, the Dark One’s youthful human form didn’t seem out of place among the deities she met.

  “He said I could earn my way out,” Deidre said.

  “Maybe in time. Or Gabriel or another deity can make a deal to get you out. There are possibilities. Only one issue you have to overcome.”

  Past-Death took Deidre’s arm and spun her back to the mirror. Deidre was relieved to see the Immortal script, until she saw it wasn’t Gabriel’s name on her back.

  Darkyn.

  “One of us was intended for Gabriel. The other for Darkyn,” past-Death said. “Luck of the draw, I guess. Darkyn will never let you go.”

  Deidre stared, horrified. “Gabriel won’t let this happen.”

  “He will if he thinks I’m you.”

  “He won’t. There’s nothing you can do to fool him. He will know before you have a chance to kiss him,” she said, her fury building. “We’re too different!”

  “Gabriel will love me as he did you,” past-Death returned. “I will make sure of it.”

  Something within Deidre snapped. She faced the goddess, rage streaking through her along with the terror of being mated to the Dark One.

  “What are you?” she demanded. “Getting me assigned to Darkyn and taking Gabriel, who won’t want anything to do with you when he cares about me? You can’t just swap us out in his life!”

  “We are the same person.” Past-Death’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t want to piss me off, human.”

  “I don’t give a shit! Whatever happened, whatever this is” Deidre gestured wildly at the tattoo on her back “Gabriel will find a way to fix it. Even if he doesn’t, and I’m trapped here forever, you are too fucking selfish to understand that you can’t make someone love you. He’ll send you packing by day two.”

  “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?” past-Death shoved her.

  “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?” Deidre shoved her back. “The woman who captured his heart in a week, something you barely did after millennia! And he still hates you!”

  Past-Death appeared surprised. A flush of anger crept up her neck and into her face.

  “If any part of you cared about him, you’d want him to be happy, not force him to love you!” Deidre cried. “Even if that meant sacrificing what you want or that he ended up with me instead of you.”

  “I created you and broke laws older than time to do it! You are nothing,” past-Death shouted. “I sacrificed everything for the chance you would bring us together!”

  “You didn’t do it for him. You are throwing me away like garbage when I’m the one he cares about!” Deidre pushed her again. “There is nothing on this planet that will make him fall in love with someone like you. I’d bet my fucking life on it!”

  “Would you really? Do you know what happens if you lose a wager to a deity?” past-Death challenged.

  “It can’t be fucking worse than being trapped with the fucking devil!”

  “Fine. Name your bet!”

  “Gabriel,” Deidre said promptly. “If you can’t do what I did in a week, he’s mine.”

  “You cannot wager something you do not own,” past-Death said scornfully.

  “Then good luck and fuck you.” Deidre whirled, tears on her face again. Her deal with Darkyn sealed her fate. The catch she’d discounted as simple was going to damn them all.

  Mr. Checkmate was probably not smiling anymore.

  “Cowardly humans,” past-Death snarled and strode to the door.

  Suddenly, past-Death’s words about how Deidre became Gabriel’s mate clicked. Would the reverse also work? If past-Death was dead again, was Deidre next in line to be Gabriel’s mate?

  She faced the door, mind working quickly.

  “Wait!” she called. “Your soul. If you can’t do what I did in a week, I get your soul.”

  “Fuck off, human.”

  “Who’s the coward now?” Deidre demanded. “Yo
u’re incapable of loving him the way he deserves, and you know it.”

  Past-Death froze at the door. Her face was red, her eyes glittering. “You will wager your soul as well?”

  “Yep,” Deidre said. “Deal?” She held out her hand and drew near. “One week. Your soul and mine on the table.”

  Past-Death shook her hand. Cold energy shot through Deidre, and she flinched. The door opened, and they both looked towards it.

  “Which one of you is mine?” Darkyn’s growl made her blood run cold.

  “As I promised. My payment for your services.” Past-Death snatched Deidre’s arm and yanked her to the side for him to see the tattoo.

  The demon lord smiled. Past-Death pushed Deidre towards him.

  Deidre dug in her heels before she reached him. The heat of her anger vanished, replaced by fear.

  “Deal settled,” Darkyn said, stepping aside. “With regards to our arrangement about reviving you…”

  “We’ll talk later,” past-Death said and brushed by him.

  Darkyn watched her go. Deidre saw the look on his face, the same one past-Death gave her when admiring the product she created. His attention returned to Deidre. His fangs were lengthening. She backed away, unable to fathom the idea of being trapped with him in Hell for eternity.

  “Rules,” he reminded her and entered the chamber. He closed the door behind him.

  “No running. No fighting.”

  You must obey him, no matter how much you do not wish to. Your life is not the only one dependent upon this.

  She stopped in place as Fate’s words returned her. Unable to quell the panic flying through her, she wasn’t willing to test the waters to discover if demons were restricted from harming their mates like Immortals. In a week, when past-Death lost her end of the bet, Deidre would be free.

  She just had to survive.

  Deidre closed her eyes as Darkyn’s arm snaked out to grab her neck. He dragged her against him. Breathing ragged, she tilted her head in submission.

  One week.

  “Welcome to your new home, love,” the Dark One said a moment before his teeth sank into her neck.

  For Gabriel.

  Chapter Fifteen

  At the Caribbean Sanctuary, Fate watched the Oracle record the latest batch of deals made between deities. They were routine. Boring. Nothing he really wanted to see.

  And then it came. The one he was waiting for. He leaned forward, intrigued as the Oracle scribbled down the agreement.

  Immortal Mate (Death – current) and Immortal Mate (Dark One - current)

  This much he predicted. Sometimes, he kept himself entertained by forecasting what happened without letting himself peek at the details. This was one such instance where he refused to look, instead reveling in the thrill of anticipation. Now it was time to see if he’d guessed correctly.

  IM-D given one week to make Death fall in love. Deal: IM-D, IM-DO souls. Winner takes all.

  Fate contemplated the deal between Gabriel’s new mate and the Dark One’s new mate. A week was generous to one woman and dangerous to the other. His guess had been three days. Little Deidre was going to have a rough go in Hell, especially when she discovered what it meant to have the Dark One as a mate, while past-Death was going to find herself unprepared for the mortal world.

  Prior to the details of the deal, Fate was considering going on vacation. Seeing the bet, he decided he wanted to stick around long enough to observe a few more events in the women’s futures. Both were on the courses he laid out for them, though that was not always an indication his preferred outcome was inevitable.

  Straightening, Fate smiled.

  He had a good feeling about this one. He was definitely sticking around.

  Checkmate.

  Rhyn Eternal series

  “Gabriel’s Hope” (Dec 2012)

  “Deidre’s Death” (Fall 2013)

  Want to learn how to earn free paperbacks, ebooks, and exclusive giveaways and discounts on swag as part of Lizzy’s Rewards Club? See details at: https://www.guerrillawordfare.com/rewards-club/

  Katie’s Hellion (Book I)

  Katie’s Hope (Book II)

  Rhyn’s Redemption (Book III)

 


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