by Tigris Eden
There were snickers around the room. Enri grew impatient.
“There is one thing you all need to take seriously and that is your life. Down there, your capabilities are useless. Why do you think it is no one has escaped? It’s not because security is top notch. Draven, Black, and your wolf are obsolete. Only one of you will be present for roll call, and I have a feeling of who that will be. Royce, going Feral is a thing of the past, and Dietrich you can’t Walk in shit. Down there, you’re mortal with just your brain and hopefully, your strength. That’s it.”
“Hold the fuck up.” Dietrich removed his shades. Something he still wore, regardless that his eyes were no longer white. “You mean to tell me, I can’t utilize my gifts in the one place they will count most?”
Enri nodded.
“Dude, you really know how to cut a guy off at the balls. What the fuck are we gonna do?” Royce asked.
“Stay alert and alive. I said I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, and I meant it.”
“Your word means shit to me right now.” Royce thundered.
“Well, it’s all you got. You’re either in or out.”
“I’m no chump. If I say I’m going to do something, I do it.”
“Then enough with the chitchat. Arm up, and let’s go and rescue my mate.”
Chapter 28
“Is she awake?” A woman sneered. Yewa was very familiar with that voice.
“Does it matter?” Came the voice of her captor. Hades.
“Yes, I have a few words I want to say to her.”
“Why, because she’s fucking your boy toy, Persephone?”
“I warned her. She didn’t listen. Now she’ll pay with her life.”
“Erebos made it clear—no harm is to come to her. Find something to do with yourself.”
“Fuck you, Hades.”
“Yeah, not interested.”
Awake and alert, she listened. She knew she was being held as leverage to get an audience with Enri. He would show. That much, she knew. It was only a matter of time. She’d just have to wait it out.
Taking a chance, Yewa opened her eyes. The room they held her in was opulent. White marble with gold veins drew cracks on the floor. The crackle of fire warmed her back. The bed she occupied fit her body perfectly. She could almost believe she was a guest. But hemp rope soaked in salt burned her ankles and wrists.
“You’re awake.”
“Yes.” Yewa hissed.
“Perfect. I’m going to ask you some questions; you’re going to answer them.”
The male stepped in front of the fire, dressed in a pair of fitted black pants and a dark gray sweater. His eyes swept over her with lascivious intent. She’d been on the receiving end of that type of attention before. By the same men who’d taken liberties with her against her will. Fear didn’t creep into her bones. Determination and fight took up residence inside her body. She would not let him defeat her. Not with past memories, and not with new ones. Somehow, she’d resist.
Beyond him, standing next to the fireplace was Persephone. Unrestrained hatred seeped from her pores. Her smile chilling as she watched Hades step closer toward the bed. Yewa focused her gaze back to the male in front of her. His smile one of pure malice as he trailed his hand from her ankle up to the place between her legs. He stopped before he reached the apex between her thighs, but she could still feel his unwanted heat.
“I see the attraction. Two lost souls, one more wounded than the other. He’d never admit it, but as much as he likes to torment and torture, he also likes to take in wounded animals. Nurse them back to health, so that he can fuck them up all over again.” Hades alleged. He cupped her hard enough it made her wince. “Oh, so you’re not into pain, then? Shame.” Hades grabbed the hem of her underwear beneath her pants, and she knew what he intended, but he quickly backed up as another presence entered the room. This one, she knew. The same entity in the crypt back in France.
“I thought I made myself clear when I said the girl was not to be harmed.”
“My lord.” Hades bowed in the direction of a dark corner, and out stepped a being large in height. He wore a purple suit tailor-made to fit his massive form with a white rose in the left lapel. A black cane with a sterling silver handle in the shape of a globe rested in his right hand. His wavy black hair was slicked away from a face with a cut jaw, and sharp bone structure. The male’s eyes hid behind a pair of dark aviators.
Taea would call him a pimp. Her time with the Fionan had been an education in all things in the century she currently resided in. Alligator shoes didn’t complement the outfit. Shame. Yewa had to hold in her snort of laughter, the situation far from funny. But the hilarity of his choice of dress wasn’t lost on her. Persephone also found it comical.
“What are you wearing, Lord Erebos?” Persephone squeaked.
He observed her with harsh eyes—eyes identical to Enri’s. A glitter of recognition lit up his eyes before he spoke again. “You were my son’s whore.”
That shut her up.
“I was no such thing, Lord Erebos.”
“No?” He arched an eyebrow. “From what I saw, not just a few days ago, you were a woman hell-bent on riding his cock, repeatedly, and when he shunned you away, you were hurt.”
“That’s not true!” Persephone shrieked, her voice shrill and grating.
“I’ll deal with you later, for now, quiet.”
Yewa watched as her voice left her. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
“I tire of her Hades, get rid of her.”
“Of course.”
Hades left the room, dragging a struggling Persephone behind him.
“Now, child, you and I have some business to discuss. Let’s begin, shall we?” Erebos pulled up a chair. As he sat, it groaned under his weight. “I’d like to talk. It’s been a while since I’ve taken form. Indulge me.”
“What do you wish to talk about?”
“My son—and how you’re going to ensure he never sits on the Throne of Creation.”
“Slinky, slinky, everyone wants a slinky, its crinkly, it’s crinkly, everyone wants a slinky.” Royce sang, bobbing his head up and down to the beat. Frankly, it annoyed the hell out of Enri, while at the same time, gave him the room he needed to think their entire situation through. He wanted this. An encounter with whom he’d thought fathered him. Knowing he’d be face—to—face with his jailor got his hackles up. In a good way. Hades would not be the only one there. Erebos was the true villain behind it all. His real father.
See to Yewa first. Deal with the fallout later. There would be time to figure out how to deal with Hades and Erebos. His main goal to rescue his mate, seclude her in a place where no harm would come to her, as they dealt with the Unveiling. One move at a time.
“Man, I wish you’d shut the fuck up about the slinky song. That’s not even how it goes.” Dietrich bumped Royce in the shoulder. The four of them stood in front of the gate housed beneath the Unit’s building. Firearms were useless in Tartaros. Dietrich gave them a personal tour of the weapons room. It held all kinds of toys that could be taken to Tartaros. But their weapons were that of swords, axes, and daggers. They’d suited up with their weapon of choice and waited for the gatekeeper and entry into Tartaros.
“You don’t even know the damn song D; stop acting like you do. We all know you didn’t watch television.”
To that, Dietrich grunted.
Enri focused on the plan he was building in his mind. Tahl said everything needed to be in its right place. He was going to see about starting to set things to right, beginning with Yewa. She wouldn’t get the time he’d tried to give her with her brother, but that no longer mattered. The most important thing to him—her safety.
“I’m not gonna lie, no joke. I’m feeling vulnerable as fuck right now.” Royce set his gaze on each male, and Enri tried not to laugh at the absurdity. Of course, they were all feeling out of sorts. Except for me. He was un-killable. Least of all, by Hades. Memories restored, he no longer adh
ered by the same rules as the others. If Hades were only kept in the dark a little longer, it would have worked to his advantage. As it stood, Enri had front stage passes to Hade’s shit list. He’d had his son murdered by a member of Clan Ellys. Z, no longer in the land of the living. Gregor hadn’t reported back as instructed, but there were several reasons why that could be. What reasons? Enri pondered that for a handful of seconds, but quickly brought his train of thought back to his dilemma. He didn’t care about Gregor and could check in with the male any time he wanted. He needed to be fully engaged in the situation.
“I don’t want any of you to go in not understanding the full scope of our situation. When I say it’s dire, I mean it. Not for me, but you. Tartaros isn’t at all what you think it is, and I know each of you have your own thoughts and ideas when it comes to Hades’s domain,” Enri addressed each of them, zeroed in on their gazes until they paid close attention to what he had to say. “I’m a bastard—evil, even. I don’t apologize for shit that I’ve done in the past, or for shit I’ll do in the future. The only person who’s received that from me is currently being held by Hades. She means more to me than all the cosmos combined. I’d burn it all down, start from scratch and wouldn’t give two fucks what happened to the rest of you if I thought she’d forgive me. But she wouldn’t. That, right there, scares the shit out of me.” Enri cleared his throat. “I exist only for her now.”
The men standing next to him observed each other first, before Royce regarded him with attentive eyes.
“Holy fuck, man. Welcome to the club. We all feel the exact same way about our mates.” Royce patted him on the back, laughing and shaking his head. “Dude, wait till you have little ones to look after; that emotion intensifies infinitely.”
Dietrich cleared his throat, his icy stare melting into one of relief. “I’m glad my sister has you as her mate, if that’s truly how you feel.”
“It is,” Enri swore solemnly.
“Are we done?” Draven asked irritated.
“Yeah, the bromance is over. Let’s go and get the girl,” Royce declared, twirling his daggers in his hands.
Enri walked up to the gate, and it groaned. Not in satisfaction, but irritation. “Lord Chaos, you seek entrance to Tartaros?”
“I do, as do the others here.”
“I’ve been instructed to inform you and your companions that Kharon awaits to ferry you across the river of lost souls. Styx and Acheron will meet you at the bridge.”
It would be good to see the three of them. They were loyal to him, not Erebos. The gate opened and the group stepped through. Each time a traveler passed, the experience varied. For Enri, the trip remained the same. Blackness followed by light. In a blink of an eye, he was standing on solid ground again, the others next to him.
“I don’t feel any different,” Royce taunted, stretching his hands over head.
“You will,” Enri relayed.
They appeared at the edge of the River of Lost Souls, a place he remembered well. The sky above sprouted different vortexes in different states of disarray. They were entryways for souls from different places. It made for quite the spectacle to someone who’d never witnessed a travel vortex before. If the men were impressed, or even curious, they didn’t voice their questions.
Kharon waited there, outfitted in skintight brown leather pants with the sides stitched in red and a tight off-white ribbed tank top. On her hip was a belt containing her leather pouch that held coin, and resting against her leg, a ruby-encrusted dagger. Her skin was pale illuminating her black veins. Her once long, black hair dyed a vibrant blue. Blood smeared her face and lips making her appear battle worn. She must have just fed. A plus for them—it meant she wouldn’t come on to the others. She knew better than to try to go rounds with Enri, he being the reason she had the limp.
“Lord Chaos.”
“Kharon, I see you’ve changed your style of dress.”
“Out with the old, as they say.”
“I expected the cloak, or at the very least, skeleton-like,” Royce interrupted.
Kharon rolled her eyes, but moved aside to allow them all to board her boat.
“Styx and Acheron will meet you at the bridge.”
“We were informed.”
The River of Lost Souls lacked water. Bodies, piles of them, encased in a jelly-like substance help the boat to glide with ease. Each time the boat slid across the gelled bodies, torture—filled moans could be heard.
“That is some creepy shit. My stomach is all queasy. What happened to them?” Dietrich inquired.
Kharon raked her eyes over Dietrich before she spoke, “Couldn’t pay me. Which means they can’t cross.”
“Damn, girl. That’s harsh.”
“You still haven’t paid, Walker,” she taunted.
“I’m with him,” Dietrich jerked his head in Enri’s direction.
“Don’t look at me.” Enri commented.
“What do you mean don’t look at you? We’re here because of you.”
Kharon burst into laughter, her eyes bright with humor. “Relax, you’re not entering into the land of the dead. You’re alive and well. Die and well... That’s another thing entirely.”
“Bitch is cold,” Royce joked.
Draven was quiet the entire ride. Enri watched him for signs of unease. But he knew why the male was quiet. He’d told the wolf one of the three would show. But Enri had a nasty habit of saving the worst for last. He’d keep a close eye on Draven.
The landscape before them boasted craggy mountaintops that, to someone looking in, would think they were inside a cavern of some sort with stalagmites or were they stalactites depending on the point of view Hades’s realm seemed like a drug-induced trip. There were mountains that were in the sky with the base right side up instead of down. The tops of them pointed downward toward the ground, while the tips of the mountains standing right-side up reached towards a never-ending sky, or bumped tips with an opposing upside down mountain. Mixed in were travel vortexes weaving and twirling as souls and wayward travelers passed. It lent to an interesting backdrop as they traveled to their destination. The scenery remained this way for most of the journey, until the bridge came into view. Off in the distance were two figures, and a long rundown bridge. They would have to journey the rest of the way on foot.
“This is your stop,” Kharon announced as they boat glided to a halt.
The door opened and as each of them stepped off, Kharon made it a point to step up to Royce.
“Feral,” she called.
Royce turned and almost fell back a step at the sight in front of him. Kharon returned to her original form. Gone was the beautiful woman with a shapely body, and in its place a shadowy figure with long stringy black hair, dull and brittle. Leathery skin barely clinging to bone sagged in the oddest of places, cradled a face sunken in despair beneath a tattered gray hood. “Here I am. Now what do you have to say?” Kharon voiced.
“I say change back. You’ll get more play in the other form.”
Kharon did not respond. She turned, and pushed the boat back out into the river, disappearing beneath the cover of fog.
“Bitch is cray, if you ask me,” Royce stated.
“Straight up gangsta. If you ask me,” Dietrich replied.
Royce glared at Dietrich. “No one asked you.”
Draven grunted, and Enri walked in the direction toward the two figures not far in the distance. He didn’t wait to see if the others followed.
“Lord Chaos,” Acheron and Styx murmured together.
Acheron kept his hair long, and his clothing close to nonexistent, his body an enticement to all who had the unfortunate chance of meeting him. The male’s black eyes took stock of Draven, Royce, and Dietrich.
“Lord Chaos, I mean no disrespect, but these three?”
“What the fuck does pretty boy mean?” Royce spewed.
“He is simply curious. Acheron doesn’t get out much,” Styx imparted.
Styx, on the other hand, was aloof,
her silvery tresses tied in a messy knot. Her red gown rested on the dirt floor, torn in places alluding to a woman who lived a hard life. Each deity, deadly but loyal to him in their own way.
“They are the reason I requested you as an escort.”
“We’re the reason, why?” Draven questioned.
“I can walk freely here, unharmed. No one would dare attempt to face me. But the three of you are a delicacy here. The newly departed will try to take over your souls and hitch a ride back to the land of the living. Styx and Acheron will ensure that doesn’t happen.”
Royce blinked before smiling. He stepped forward to offer a handshake. Acheron stepped back, Styx, however did not. She happily would have accepted Royce’s hand. It would only take one touch. Dietrich blocked their interaction and growled. “Temptress.”
“Aaah, this one has brains.”
Royce swiveled his head between Dietrich and Styx. “What’s going on?”
“One touch from Styx and you’ll owe her.” Enri informed.
“Owe her what?” Royce asked.
“Your life, idiot,” Draven retorted—only it wasn’t Draven speaking, it was Black.
“Glad it’s you on my team.” Enri remarked. At least with Black, Enri knew where he stood. Draven proved time and again how indecisive he could be.
Black nodded, but said nothing else.
Chapter 29
“Keep her alive. I need her coherent when my son shows. I want him to see her face,” Erebos interjected as the crack of the whip peeled another strip of flesh from her back.
The pain retreated into the back of Yewa’s mind as she breathed through her nose.
Time stopped.
Slowed to a steady drip.
Her clothing ripped and soaked through with blood.
Her arms protested from the weight they could no longer hold. Persephone baited Erebos into making Gregor remove the ottoman beneath her, leaving Yewa to teeter back and forth on the tips of her toes.