He leaned down and kissed me one more time, briefly, just a brushing of his lips over mine. “Guess there’s a first time for everything, huh?” he murmured against my mouth before he pulled away again.
I laughed and shoved him. He laughed, too, then went to get me a cup of coffee. We sat in the living room, on the couch. He pulled my legs onto his lap, and I turned toward him, unable, now, to get enough of the sight of him. We sat, and went over the day ahead, the meetings I had scheduled. His hand ran up and down my leg, from my knee to my toes, then back up. Light pressure, a massage, and when he massaged the back of my calves, touched the area behind my knee, I gasped and the sensation went straight between my legs. He laughed a little, kept talking about meetings as if nothing was happening.
When he did it again, I bit my lip against the sensation, and he laughed again.
“You’re doing that on purpose,” I said, smacking his hand away.
“Doing what?” he asked innocently.
“You know damn well what you’re doing,” I said, laughing and taking my legs off of his lap.
He grinned. “There’s a certain advantage to being involved with a shifter who’s bonded himself to you, Ms. Brooks.”
“Oh?” I asked, knowing my face was burning.
“I know when you’re tired, or hungry, or in pain,” he said, running his hand through my hair, resting it at the back of my neck. Then he leaned in. “The other side applies, too. I know when you’re feeling good. I know when something I’m doing drives you crazy with need. My body is completely attuned to yours.”
I just stared at him, involuntarily clenched my thighs together. He noticed (of course) and laughed. “Why do you think divorce is so rare among bonded shifters?” he asked, grinning.
He stood up, leaned down to kiss me. “Better focus, Molly. Your first appointment will be here in a few minutes.”
I grabbed his shirt, held him close to me. “I love you, Brennan,” I whispered.
He grinned, and I felt pure happiness from him. “I know you do. I was just waiting for you to admit how crazy you are about me,” he said, laughing when I smacked him. “I love you too.” Then he kissed me again and walked away, and I tried not to stare at him as he did. I failed.
I managed to get through my first several meetings with the appropriate amount of seriousness and acting like a badass. In between, increasingly toe-curling kisses from Brennan that left me breathless and needy.
The man was going to kill me. But I had a feeling I’d go out smiling.
Once I’d taken care of the few things I had to deal with, I got ready to head to the Nether for my meeting. Brennan kissed me, told me to be careful, like he always did, and I could feel how much it bothered him that I was going back. He wasn’t the only one.
♦ ♦ ♦
When I arrived in the Nether, via the gateway, it was much calmer than it had been the day before. Demon guards in their black uniforms lined the walls around the Pit, guarded the tunnel between the Pit and the gateway. They bowed and thumped their chests in respect as I passed, and I greeted them. Or, I tried to. I was mesmerized by my surroundings. I’d taken in only the barest of details during my last visit. This time, I studied everything. The amethyst sky, those blackish, grayish trees. The buildings were a jumble of architectural styles, mostly I guess what we’d call Gothic style architecture in the mortal realm, but with a good mix of classical Greek and Roman architecture mixed in. Statues of the various gods of the Nether were a regular sight as I walked the road between the Pit and the residence of the Furies. I guessed even the gods enjoyed having their egos stroked.
Maybe even more than mortals did.
I arrived at the large black building I’d been in the previous day. It was simple, very stark and plain in appearance. I knocked on the heavy door, which was some kind of ebony wood. I waited.
After a few moments, Alecto answered, greeting me with a small smile. She took my hand and led me in.
“Lovely to see you again, my dear,” she said in a soft voice.
“Thank you. Likewise,” I said. I let her lead me through the house, down the long hallway we’d gone down the last time. This time, however, she led me through a door on the right.
I almost laughed when I took in the room she’d led me into. This was clearly the Furies’ living area. We were in a living room that instantly made me think of a 1980s music video. Pink and purple everything, including low, modern-looking sofas covered in what looked like bright pink velvet. Pillows were everywhere. The carpet was dark purple. There were posters on the walls: Michael Jackson, Cyndi Lauper, Joan Jett. I stared, and I didn’t even realize my jaw had dropped until Alecto laughed. I tore my gaze away from the 80s vomit that was my family’s living room, and looked at her.
“We enjoyed the 1980s,” she said with a shrug. “Especially Megaera. Don’t get her started on Richard Marx.”
“Are you speaking of my love, the only man I’d ever give my virginity to?” a voice said behind us, and Megaera entered the room, followed by my mother.
I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing, and I couldn’t stop. I bent double, and tears started streaming down my cheeks. It was like a crazy, alcohol or drug-induced dream. I was standing in this room with probably the three most terrifying beings I’d ever met, and they were fangirling over Richard Marx and their house looked like three teenage girls lived there. I heard them laughing, too, mostly over my reaction.
I tried to get myself under control, and only succeeded in erupting in another fit of giggles. My mother came over to me, laughing, and led me over to one of the pink sofas. I took deep breaths, wiped my eyes, and looked around again as my aunts settled themselves, smiling and shaking their heads.
“I’m sorry,” I finally said. “This was so not what I was expecting to see here.”
“And you haven’t even seen Alecto’s bedroom yet,” my mother said. “Elvis, everywhere.”
“If only you’d let me punish him when he came through,” Alecto said dreamily. “I would have made his time here something….”
“Al…” my mother said, laughing.
“I thought you all, well, except for you,” I said to my mother, “had the maiden goddess thing going.”
They nodded. “Oh, we do. Doesn’t mean that certain men don’t send our lady parts all a-tingle,” Alecto said. “Every age has its particularly spectacular examples of manhood.”
I shook my head. “Does anyone else know about this?” I asked, waving around the room.
“No. And who would believe it? We are the terror, we are vengeance. We do a great job of maintaining our image, don’t you think?” Megaera asked, smiling at me.
“That, you do,” I agreed. “It’s so weird. You guys, Eunomia…you all feel so warm, so alive to me. I would not have expected that.”
My mother nodded. “We and the Guardians have a lot in common. And if you think this is something, you should see the home of the Guardians,” she said, shaking her head.
“I think we all appreciate beauty and life a lot more than the other gods,” Alecto said, gaze intent upon my face, as if she was studying me.
Megaera nodded. “Yes. We deal in death. It makes beauty so much more precious to us.”
“And we are better at carrying out our duties because of it. We are not so far removed from the daily lives of mortals that we believe ourselves separate from them, the way many gods do,” my mother said.
“Which brings us to why you’re here,” Alecto said, getting serious. “You agreed to serve as a Fury, at Hades request.”
I nodded.
“We have been discussing it. We are happy to have the help, and you proved yourself to be more than capable of punishment with the Nosoi,” Megaera said. I waited for a reprimand for my behavior, but none came.
“Based on your history, we have decided that we have the perfect assignment for you,” Alecto said. I waited.
My mother watched me. “You will be responsible for punishing those who have
caused harm to girls and women. You shall avenge the world’s lost girls, daughter.”
I bowed. ”It will be so. And I will be ruthless in my duties.”
“We would expect nothing less,” my mother said, and I felt this new part of my reality sink in, absorbed this truth as I had so many others. Something changed in me, just a little, as I fully felt the role of Fury take hold. I only hoped that I was up to the job.
Chapter Fourteen
My mother led me, eventually, out of the 80s living room, across the hall, to the room we’d been in before, with the Nosoi. “We work in here,” she said softly as she unlocked the door. We stepped in, and I looked around. I hadn’t noticed, before, the doors that led off to the sides of the room.
“I’m trying to think of how to explain what we do. I’ve done this so long, I know of no other reality,” Tisiphone began. She crossed her arms, studied me, thinking. “You know that the Guardians collect the souls of the dead,” she said.
I nodded. “Yes. And they bring them to Hades for their final judgment, and then they come here, and the Furies carry out the punishment they have coming to them.”
“That is basically how it works. Some souls never make it to us. Some, Hades sees fit to send on to the Everafter with no action on our part. Many are, actually. Our services are required of those who have done so much damage, that even death cannot redeem them. Ordinary men and women simply pass through. The monsters among us, though, come to us.”
“Some have lifetimes of punishment ahead of them. Some require less. They are punished until they repent, in any case.”
“Lifetimes?” I asked, staring at her.
She smiled. “That is where things get confusing. It feels like lifetimes to them. Time passes differently here, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. It passes quickly for us, unbearably slowly for those here for punishment. It is necessary. We’d never be able to do our job thoroughly otherwise. What feels like hundreds of years worth of pain to those we punish feels like seconds, maybe minutes, to us. While it happens, you are connected, completely, to the soul you punish. This is how we are able to punish so efficiently.”
She said it all in such a calm, casual voice, as though she was discussing the weather or a newspaper article she’d read. Tisiphone caught me looking at her. “It is a sacred duty, daughter. And I’ve seen you work. You were made for this.”
I shook my head. “So, is it just nonstop punishing, or…?”
“If you spent all of your time in vengeance, you would lose yourself. Spend as much time as you can stomach, and then return to your loved ones. I don’t remember how it felt at first, but it may be overwhelming for you. I have no idea,” she finished. “The souls are not going anywhere.”
She led me to a side room, unlocked it. I peered in, expecting to see a bunch of ghosts or something. Instead, it was an empty room, with just a simple bench and a chair. I looked at her. “The demon guards will bring the souls to you. Here, they have almost a corporeal form. They look much as they did when they were alive. They hurt the same, as well.”
Tisiphone paused, watched me. “You will need to be careful. We are not supposed to destroy the souls, merely punish them and send them on.”
“Is that even possible? To destroy a soul?”
She nodded. “Based on what I felt when you were with the Nosoi, it would take almost no effort for you to do so. Control is essential, Mollis.”
I looked at my feet, remembered similar lectures from Nain, about how important control is, about how I could majorly mess things up by losing control. It was always the same story, with me. “I will be careful,” I finally said.
“Good. Hades takes this very seriously. These souls are promised the Everafter once they repent. If you break his word….”
“He’ll be pretty pissed. I get it,” I said, ignoring the shiver that went through my body.
“You do not want Hades to punish you. I’ve been through it twice. It is not something I ever want to live through again,” she said softly.
I nodded. No pressure. Right.
“I will leave you now. Stop when you need to,” she said. I nodded and she closed the door behind her, leaving me alone in the gray room. I sat on the chair, settled my hands in my lap, and closed my eyes. I didn’t know what I was supposed to be thinking about, so I just focused on punishment, vengeance. I felt strengthened as I thought the words, as if they were a verbal talisman against the trepidation I was feeling.
A few moments later, there was a knock at the door.
“Yes,” I said, and the door opened. A large demon guard, wearing the typical black uniform, bowed briefly to me and shoved the form of a tall, thin man into the room. “I will collect him when you have finished,” the demon said, and I nodded.
The demon left, and I was left alone with the man, who was sprawled on the floor where the guard had shoved him.
I felt a connection to him, immediately, as instinct took over, and I did what a Fury does. My soul melded with his, and I could feel and see everything I needed to know about him. There was nothing he could hide from me. Every secret he thought he’d kept so well was laid bare before me, and he whimpered when he felt me enter his soul. I knew everything.
I also knew why Tisiphone had been so sure to warn me against destruction.
The soul had been a male who had abducted and murdered seven women. I saw, in a flash of understanding, everything he’d done to the women, every thought he’d had, the emotions that had run through him as he’d tortured and killed them.
My blood boiled.
I felt fear from him, and it was good.
I also understood what my mother had meant by the soul-bond being the most efficient way to punish. I saw what he’d done, what he’d felt. And I saw what he feared. I had complete control of his mind, and I used it. I punished him with the things he feared most, even as I watched, over and over again, in slow motion, in Technicolor detail, how he’d ended so many lives.
He began to beg for mercy. I was beyond it.
His punishment continued, and I lost all track of time. I used my mind, my hands, my sword, which had appeared again of its own accord. I came just short of destroying him, drawing out his punishment, and his screams, his pain, his fear fed me.
It was glorious and sickening.
I know that my body broke out in a sheen of perspiration, that my breathing became ragged, that my entire being yearned to obliterate this remainder of human filth. Yet he still showed no remorse, so it went on.
He babbled. He begged. He screamed and cried. And still, all I felt from him was how sure he was that it was his right to do the things he’d done. I turned his mind, his memories, back on him, had him re-live every abduction, every torture, every murder he’d committed, but from the other side. I made him feel what his victims had felt, over and over again as he screamed.
And I felt it. The moment he truly repented. The moment he saw his vileness for what it was, and felt remorse. His screams went silent, and he accepted the pain, because he deserved it. And I forced myself to pull back, and I opened my eyes and saw his soul, kneeling at my feet, sobbing. Regret, sadness, flowed from him, disgust at what he’d done.
I still wanted to destroy him. I snarled at him, and he flinched away. I went to the door and banged on it, hard, twice with my fist, and the demon guard came immediately and led him away, still keening, still feeling the effects of what I’d made him feel. His time would end soon, and he would leave, repenting, and spend eternity knowing how worthless he’d been.
And I would have his memories, the images of the things he’d done, with me for the rest of my life.
“Next,” I called to the guard, steeling myself against the terrors I’d see from the next soul assigned to me.
I spent as much time as I could stomach punishing the souls assigned to me. After the first man, who had been sickening, it only got worse. But I was torn between being sickened by them and enjoying punishing them, and, for a while at least, vengeance
won.
My soul felt filthy from being bound to theirs. My mind could not un-see the things they’d done, could not un-feel the things they’d felt. And while their fear, their pain at my hands had been sweet, it came at a price.
As I walked past the guards, barely thinking straight enough to acknowledge them as they did their usual fist-to-chest salute, I tried to shake the disgusting feelings inside me. I didn’t see anything. The amethyst sky, the demons who waved or bowed to me. I was barely there.
Instead I saw girls, women, the prey of the people I’d just punished.
Girls and women who had not been saved. I tried to push the memories away, the visions I saw through the eyes of evil. I was sick with it, my stomach turning. At the core of the sickness, sadness, and helplessness, there was rage.
I held on to that, a life preserver to keep me from drowning.
I left the Nether, walked through the gateway into the Packard plant. Dahael and Bash were there, waiting, just where I’d left them. They thumped their chests, and greeted me with a low, “Mistress.”
“How long was I gone that time?” I asked them, and it felt strange to use my voice.
“Two days,” Dahael said. “Shifter has been here many times, looking for Mistress. Told him you’d be back.”
I shook my head. “Time is so different there.”
They both nodded.
“I need to find some lost girls. Tell me you have some leads.” My rage coursed through my body, and I welcomed it because at least it deadened the helplessness, just for a little while.
“Of course,” Bash said, and he and Dahael led the way out of the factory, to my car. I followed the instructions they gave me in their raspy little voices.
I hunted. I rescued first one teenage girl, then two young women, then a pair of little girls who had just been taken by a friend of the family that same night.
I destroyed their captors. There was nothing left. I stopped, just short of destroying their souls, though it meant I’d have to see them again someday in the Nether.
Broken: Hidden Book Two Page 14