The fighting went on, only more furiously once the demons realized who and what I was. I stabbed one, gutting it. Here, I felt my power soar, as if the Nether welcomed me home with open arms. A demon rushed me, and I smiled, and felt power travel down my arm. I looked at my hand and saw a flaming sword, much like the one my mother wielded. But mine had a flame of blue, and it was long, thin, and deadly. I smiled wider, and slashed.
The sword was part of me, and I used it as naturally as breathing. The first few unsuspecting demons were cut down before they realized what was happening. The others, seeing what was happening, tried to run back to the prison they had been trying to escape.
They did not get far. I chased them, cut them down without remorse or hesitation. When the last one was gone, I stood amid dozens of fallen demons, sword in hand, blue flames casting everything around me in an eerie, ghoulish light.
The Nether was silent around me. The demon guards watched me with respect, fisted their hands and thumped their chests, much as my imps did. There were gods, and they watched me with a mixture of awe, fear, and anger. My mother landed directly in front of me.
She smiled at me, and pride coursed through her.
“My brothers and sisters of the Nether, may I present my daughter, servant of Lord Hades himself, the Fury Mollis Cithaerus.”
The assembled gods also bowed in respect to me, some, more grudgingly than others, and I bowed back to them, keeping my eyes on my mother and the two goddesses who flanked her. My mother smiled, and so did they.
“Welcome home, daughter. I have a gift for you.”
I raised my eyebrow, and she smiled again.
“Shall we go interrogate a Nosoi?” She asked, and my aunts, the other Furies beside her, both grinned at me, feral, frightening grins that I knew mirrored my own.
“Mother, it would be an absolute pleasure,” I said, and I walked with my mother and my aunts, the Furies, through the throngs of demons and gods, and all I could think about was vengeance.
I didn’t spare much attention for my surroundings. I registered that the sky was amethyst, that the trees were blackish-gray shapes that rose into that alien sky. Demons were everywhere, in all shapes, sizes and colors, going about their daily life as if this was any other city.
My mother and aunts led me to a large building made of shiny black stone. My mother took a moment to introduce me to my aunts, Megaera and Alecto. They both looked like my mother, except that Alecto was shorter, curvier, and Megaera had a seriousness to her that even my mother lacked.
“This is our home, our workplace,” my mother said, leading me and my aunts down a hallway. She unlocked a door, and we were in a dark room, empty except for an angry little being sitting on a stool in a corner. I sensed for her, and knew her instinctively to be a god. I looked at my mother.
“Nosoi,” she murmured, affirming my thoughts. “We questioned several of them. This is the one who transferred the shifter plague to those in your realm.” I looked back at the Nosoi, who was about my height, but very thin and delicate looking, almost elfish. She had a short cap of black hair, eyes that glowed yellow, skin the color of putty. She glared at me, made some kind of gesture which I could guess was meant to insult me. “She’s all yours, darling,” my mother told me.
Just don't kill her, she said in my mind.
Does she know I’m not allowed to kill her?
My mother smiled, just a little. No, she does not.
I got to work. It wasn’t pretty. I found myself doing something very similar to what I’d done to the demon, Branford, after he’d tried to kill me. I manipulated her thoughts, put her in extreme pain without ever having to touch her. I hadn’t realized, back when I’d destroyed Branford, that this was something only Furies could do. Handy.
Before long, she was broken, and revealed all she knew: she was the weakest of the Nosoi. The god, a minor god who had disguised his or her true nature from her, promised her respect and power if she did this favor. Brennan was the target, because taking him from me would weaken me beyond repair. I dug hard at her regarding that point. All she knew was that it was more than simply that I cared for him. From her understanding, I needed him in order to succeed. She didn’t know why, but that was what the god had told her. They became frustrated when they couldn’t get to him because he was always with me. So the Nosoi had bided her time, and planted the illness in the most prominent local shifter family, figuring Brennan would come into contact with them eventually, and she’d succeed that way.
Well, she nearly did.
Remembering how close I’d come to losing him, how he’d looked as he drifted in and out of consciousness nearly made me lose any control I had. I came very close to killing her, despite my mother’s warnings. I was on the brink, between causing her pain and ending her completely. My aunts and mother had to pull me away, break my connection to her to prevent me from doing it. My mother hugged me, sent me home, telling me we’d talk soon.
I left, still tasting the Nosoi’s soul. It would have been good to destroy her. Maybe another day.
♦ ♦ ♦
I walked out of the gateway, through the factory, nodding at the demon guards as they bowed to me, thumped their fists to their chests. Back in my own realm, I trembled with the aftershocks of the adrenaline that had run through me with the Nosoi, and I was sickened at how easily it would have been for me to lose control. I took deep breaths, tried to get myself straight again before going home.
I got into my car and sped toward the loft. I glanced at my watch. Just after midnight. It had been at least an entire day since I’d left. I hadn’t meant to be gone that long, but time passed differently in the Nether. There, I didn’t notice the hours passing.
Mostly because I was in full vengeance-lust mode during my time there.
I hoped Brennan was okay. I had thought of him almost constantly, still reveling at the feeling of his soul linked to mine. Part of me hoped he was awake so I could talk to him. Part of me was nervous about seeing him again now that I’d admitted to myself how much I needed him. How much I (yes) loved him.
I parked, took the elevator up to the loft. I looked down at myself. Bloody and gross, as usual. Freaking demons. I sighed. When I unlocked the door, I could hear the television in the living room, saw that the lamps were still on. Brennan was sitting in one of the recliners, dressed in his usual jeans and white t-shirt.
He looked good.
Not just healthy, which he was. He looked…like the best thing I’d ever seen.
He stood up and walked toward me, blue gaze taking in every detail as he approached me.
I ran a hand through my hair. “Hey,” I said. “You look so much better.” I saw the grossness on my arm, dropped it back down to my side. “I’m a mess,” I muttered, suddenly unsure what to do with my hands or where to look, or how to breathe past the way my heart pounded. He stopped in front of me, watched me, silent, his gaze warm, a hint of a smile quirking at the corner of his mouth.
“I’m glad you’re home,” he said softly.
“Me too.”
“E came to check on me while you were gone. She told me you were all right and not to worry. As if that’s even possible.”
I nodded.
“She told me other things, too.”
I just watched him.
“She told me that you tried to kill her when you thought she was coming for me.” His gaze bored into mine. “She told me that you summoned a powerful god to heal me. She told me that you used your own blood to keep me strong, that you didn’t leave my side until you knew I was all right.”
“E has a big mouth,” I muttered.
He smiled a little. “I remember waking up next to you. In your arms.”
I nodded, and we stood in awkward silence for several long moments.
He looked at me, his gaze raking over my face, as if he was taking in every detail. “Do you have any idea how completely beautiful you are?” he asked softly.
I shook my head, let out a
short, nervous laugh. “Yeah, I’m a real dreamgirl,” I said, looking down.
“You have no idea,” he said. He closed the last small gap between us, put his fingertips under my chin.
“I think we should talk. I…” I met his eyes again, and I was lost.
“I think I’m done talking, Molly,” he murmured, and I shivered. I stopped breathing as he closed in.
Oh gods he’s going to kiss me.
I shouldn’t let him. This is dumb. Bad idea. I am only going to mess this up.
But the second his warm, soft lips met mine, all the arguments were washed away. His kiss was sweet, and slow, and tender, and it brought something to life inside of me. His hands were on either side of my neck, thumbs tracing my jawline. He kissed me in a way that made me feel precious, beautiful, as if I was the only thing in the world.
I kissed him back, meeting lips, tongue; focusing on kissing him with just as much care as he was kissing me. He moaned, deep in his throat, and it sent a shiver through my body.
He feathered a few more kisses across my lips, the corners of my mouth, and then stepped back, running his fingertips down my arms as he released me.
I was dizzy. Actually physically dizzy. I looked down, felt my face burning. My heart was racing. I could feel his racing, too, through the connection I’d made with him.
“Molly,” he murmured, putting his hand under my chin and gently forcing my gaze back up to his.
“I…”
“What?”
“I don’t think I can do this,” I whispered.
“I know.” And then he lowered his lips to mine again, kissed me in the same achingly tender, slow, deep way as his thumbs trailed up and down my throat. I put my arms around his waist, leaned into him.
I’d always thought the whole “knee-weakening kiss” phenomenon was a joke, until Brennan stood there and showed me otherwise.
He devoured my mouth like I was the most delicious thing on Earth, and he was planning to savor every last taste. He sucked and nibbled my lower lip and had me clinging to him, sighing, pulse racing. When he finally pulled away my whole body was weak, and I felt like I was on fire.
I felt it down to my toes.
We stood there and for just a while, I stopped thinking about anything but the two of us. I had my arms around his waist, leaning into him. His hands were at my hips, and his thumbs rubbed gentle circles at my hipbones. I rested my forehead against his chest, and he rested his chin on the top of my head. I was at peace and on fire, all at the same time, and it scared the hell out of me, but right then, there was nowhere I’d rather have been.
“So. What have you been up to?” he asked me.
I laughed a little, and he did too. I stood there in his arms and told him all about the gateway and Furies, about Hades and his deal, about the Nosoi, about the way I’d punished her, the way I’d barely held myself together. I poured my soul out to him the way I always had, I realized. Being in his arms was comforting and distracting all at the same time. His fingers traced up and down my hips the entire time as he listened to me.
Being Brennan, the fact he focused on was that I was in danger now that everyone knew what I was. And the fact that I’d given up freedom.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said softly.
“You would have done the same for me,” I said, breathing him in. “And I would have ended up doing a lot of this anyway. I want to. Even if I didn’t, it would have been worth it.”
“Now everyone knows what you are.”
I nodded against him. “Tisiphone and Hades both think the best thing was to just put it out there,” I said against his chest. “Kind of a big ‘fuck you’ to whoever is trying to get to me. It seems like the best plan. If they want to come at me, they’ll have to do it with everyone knowing what I am and who I serve.”
He was quiet for a minute, thinking. “It makes sense. Now anyone who moves against you, even knowing what you are, risks pissing off any gods allied with the Furies and Hades. Which, I’d imagine, would be a lot.”
I hugged him a little tighter. I’d just told him a whole bunch of new, crazy shit, and he’d barely batted an eyelid. My rock. “I think so. I don’t know though. Maybe everyone hates Hades and the Furies,” I finally said. “I feel so clueless. It’s like having to converse in a language I’ve never spoken.”
“You’re a Fury,” he said, after a few seconds, as if it was just now fully hitting him.
I looked up at him. “Do not sound like that.”
“Like what?”
“All in awe of me and shit. I’m me, and that’s all.”
He bent his head down and kissed me again, sending shockwaves through my body. He pulled me closer to him, pressed my body to his and I could feel his heart pounding in his chest, felt his love, need roar over me. Then he pulled away, kissed my jawline, just under my ear. “I was already in awe of you,” he whispered, and his breath tickled my earlobe and I felt warm all the way to my core.
I couldn’t even come up with a response before he kissed me again, and I surrendered to it, completely.
♦ ♦ ♦
It took every bit of strength I had to pull myself out of Brennan’s arms and go to my own room. He was intoxicating, and his kisses were already proving to be addictive. But I did, and I slept.
And I dreamt of Nain.
Over and over again. Flashes, partial memories of what we had been, nightmares about him angry with me. A particularly heartbreaking dream in which he was drowning, and I was the only one who could save him, and I left him there, hearing him roaring my name as I walked away.
I sat up, breathing hard, sweating. I took deep breaths, tried to calm myself down. I put my face in my hands and tried to stop picturing the dream I’d just had.
Of course, I knew logically that the nightmares were because I was feeling guilty over not only the kisses I’d shared with Brennan the night before, but more, the effect they’d had on me. Kissing Nain had been passionate, hot, almost violent. His kisses had turned me on, without a doubt.
I thought that was it. I expected the same reaction when Brennan kissed me. But his kisses had been soul-shattering, toe-curling, mind-numbing. Like a slow fire that spread from my lips to the rest of my body, until I was consumed. Immediate connection, at the deepest level.
I put my fingers to my lips, closed my eyes, remembering. My heart pounded at the idea of seeing him again. I looked at the ceiling, as if I could see up into his room above mine.
I wondered, if I felt all of this from a kiss, what he could do to the rest of my body. I blushed and tried to shove the thought away. I flopped onto my stomach, pulled my pillow over my head. My stupid body was still thrumming from just the memory of being in his arms.
I tried to go back to sleep. Tried thinking of nothing. Tried counting sheep. I ended up reliving either Brennan’s kisses or my dreams about Nain, no matter what else I tried to force my mind to focus on.
I gave up after a while, got up and showered and dressed. Told myself I wasn’t paying more attention to my appearance than usual. I was only wearing lip gloss because my lips were dry.
Right.
I started to leave my room, figuring I’d check my messages and figure out what immediate disasters I’d need to deal with that day before heading into the Nether to meet with my mother and aunts. I was about to open my bedroom door when I felt him out in the loft. I felt a flush rise to my skin, closed my eyes and tried to settle myself down.
“Stop acting like a pre-teen girl with a crush. You’re the daughter of gods, for Christ sake,” I muttered to myself. I took a breath and opened the door, walked out into the loft. Brennan was in the kitchen, making coffee. Jeans, t-shirt that fit him better than seemed fair. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, though I did try. And when he turned and looked at me, and grinned, I felt a ridiculous blush rise to my cheeks.
“Good morning,” he said, smiling at me.
I stopped a couple of feet away from him. “Hey.” I gl
anced up at him. He was still smiling at me, and he winked when I looked at him. I looked away. “You’re up early.”
“So are you,” he said.
“Did I wake you up?”
“Maybe.”
“You should go back to sleep. We were up late last night.”
“Only if you come with me,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice, even though I was still doing my best to avoid looking at him. Damn blushing.
I gave a little laugh, and he stepped closer to me.
“Look at me, Molly,” he murmured. And I did.
His eyes met mine. God, he was mesmerizing.
“That’s better,” he said. “Did you sleep all right?”
“Not really.”
“Me neither,” he said.
“Brennan?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you kiss me again?”
He lowered his lips to mine, and it was just as soul-shattering as it had been the night before. Hot, sweet, sensual, soft, and insistent all at the same time. He put his arms around me, and I clung to him. His hands ran up and down my spine as he kissed me, over my backside, and when he cupped my behind in his big hands and pulled me closer to his body, I whimpered.
“Oh, I like that sound,” he murmured.
I clenched my thighs together against the heat pooling there. After a while, he pulled back, slowly. The desire, white-hot need pouring off of him only added to everything else I was feeling.
He kissed my cheek, my jawline, then kissed his way down to where my pulse raced at the base of my throat, and a small moan escaped my lips. After laving that spot with attention for a bit, he finally stepped back. His eyes met mine again.
“This is going to be an adjustment,” he said, and his voice was hoarse and husky.
“Yeah?” I could barely breathe.
“Now that I’ve kissed you, it’s all I want to do. Even more so than before,” he said, and he smiled down at me.
I smiled, felt a bit of a blush rise to my face. “I don’t think you’re going to get much of an argument from me,” I said.
Broken: Hidden Book Two Page 13