Dark Descent - [Nyx Fortuna 02]

by Marlene Perez

“I know how to take care of myself,” she said. “I thought you said I wasn’t a prisoner here.”

  “You’re not,” I replied. “I was worried about you.” My words were slurred. I’d drunk more of the green fairy than I’d intended. “Why are you wearing that robe?”

  “It’s the warmest thing I own,” she snapped. She studied my face for a moment. “Did you really think I’d take a stroll down below for a visit with dear old Mom?”

  “I don’t know what to think,” I said. But I did. She was trying to play me, but to what end?

  “I’m going to bed,” she said. She didn’t wait to see if I followed, but I did.

  My stomach roiled at the thought of another betrayal.

  Her back was to me when she dropped the robe. “Are you coming to bed?” The invitation was obvious, but I was transfixed by something besides her naked body.

  One shoulder was marked with an angry scar, faded, but the ridges were stark against her milky-white skin. My own scars started to itch at the sight of hers.

  “Can I see?” I asked.

  She nodded and pulled her hair back to reveal that the scar went up her neck and disappeared into her hairline.

  I stepped closer. She shivered when my hot breath touched her neck and I felt a surge of lust. It was replaced by anger when I realized that her skin had been sliced.

  “How did that happen?” I asked. “What did they use?”

  “A demon claw.”

  “Who did it?”

  “Let’s just say I wasn’t sorry you killed Hroth,” she said.

  I wished I hadn’t, so I could do it again, only more slowly.

  “What did your mother do to him when she found out?”

  “She’s the one who ordered him to do it,” Wren said bitterly.

  “Why?” I couldn’t imagine having such a vengeful mother.

  “I went topside without her permission,” she said. “She can’t come up, you know. Not ever. No matter how badly she wants to leave the underworld, she can’t, because of your aunts.”

  I couldn’t resist her any longer. I pressed a gentle kiss to the scar. She was hot, sweating like she’d just run a marathon. I licked a drop of moisture from her skin.

  “You saved me, you know,” she said.

  I wanted Wren. Acting on those feelings would make my fucked-up situation even worse, but I’d never let that stop me before.

  I trailed kisses down her neck, following the path of the scar. She moved away from me. At first, I thought she was rejecting me, but she was only facing me to kiss my lips.

  “When I was topside before, before Hroth found me and dragged me back, I seduced a mortal,” she said. “It wasn’t magical. In fact, it was a considerable disappointment.”

  “That’s unfortunate,” I said.

  “Would it be magical with you?”

  If she didn’t stop looking at me like that, it was going to be blink-and-you-might-miss-it quick. Hardly magical.

  “Wren, I can’t sleep with you,” I said.

  She slid a hand where it didn’t belong—not if I wanted to stick to my resolution to keep things uncomplicated. “Feels like you can to me.”

  “You know what I mean,” I replied. “We shouldn’t sleep together.”

  “But I want you,” she said. “And I think you want me.”

  “I’m involved with someone else.” I moved her hand away from the danger zone.

  The statement might keep me out of trouble, but it wasn’t strictly true. Elizabeth was gone and Willow wasn’t interested in anything more than a fling.

  “And you have made promises to her?” she asked. “Are you together now?”

  “No, but—” The hand was back before I could get the words out.

  “Then what’s the problem?” she asked. She kissed me and the answer to her question disappeared from my brain, dissolved by the feeling of her tongue stroking mine.

  Sleeping with Hecate’s daughter was dangerous, but I was sick of depriving myself. It had taken every bit of my admittedly little self-control not to take her up on it the first time she’d offered. Wren had made it clear she wanted me, but so had Elizabeth. What was Wren’s motivation: lust or something more sinister?

  The thought dissolved when she yanked off my jeans.

  “We all have scars, Nyx,” she said. “Show me yours. Please?”

  I was never going to get a happily ever after, but I could have a taste of what others took for granted. I reached for her.

  Chapter Twenty

  I spent the next day in bed with Wren, but eventually, reality intruded. Hecate’s demons would come for Wren and we needed a plan. Nothing occurred to me, but proximity to Wren wasn’t helping, either. I needed to think of something besides sex, like surviving my latest predicament.

  I resumed my early morning swims. The quiet helped me think. I missed the exercise, but even more, I missed starting my day seeing Naomi.

  When I arrived at the Y, she was already in the pool, but she wasn’t alone, judging from the raised voices echoing over the water.

  “You have to tell him,” Naomi said.

  “Why?” Claire replied, the bitterness in her voice clear. “He’s just like all the others: fooled by a pretty face.”

  I stopped in my tracks. Were they talking about me?

  “And whose fault is that?” Naomi snapped. “He wouldn’t have even met her if it weren’t for you.”

  Me and Wren, then. I cleared my throat and stepped out of the shadows. “Sorry, am I interrupting something? I can come back.”

  “Nyx,” Naomi cried. “I haven’t seen you here in ages. I was starting to think you’d given up swimming altogether.”

  I jumped into the water next to her, splashing her in the process. I came up for air and then grinned at her as I treaded water. “I’ve been a little busy lately.”

  Claire snorted and then hauled herself out of the water. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

  I watched her stomp off. “She doesn’t like me very much.”

  “Don’t take it personally,” Naomi replied. “She doesn’t like anyone very much right now.”

  “Even you?”

  “Especially me,” Naomi said somberly and then changed the subject. “Race you!” She shoved off against the side, getting a crucial three-second head start. I trailed behind her but touched the side a beat later.

  She surfaced and smiled at me as she shook the water from her swim cap. “You’re out of shape.”

  “Rematch in a few days?” I suggested as she jumped out of the pool.

  “Of course,” she said. “You’ll need to practice, though.” I could hear her laughter as she went into the changing room.

  *

  I was back a couple of days later. I’d decided to wait until I was sure my cousins had finished their swim before I ventured into the pool. I watched from the Caddy as Naomi exited the building, arm in arm with Claire.

  Sawyer’s voice made me jump. “She’s so grown-up,” he said.

  “Stop doing that,” I said. “You scared the shit out of me.”

  “You should be scared, Nyx,” he said. He was probably right, but I wanted a few answers.

  “Sawyer, tell me about Hecate. How did the two of you get together?”

  “I was young and stupid,” he said. “I thought I was a badass necromancer. She was beautiful and deadly. She got what she wanted and then tossed me aside.”

  “Did you know about Wren?”

  “Not until after I was married to Nona,” he said. “I couldn’t tell her.”

  “I have to tell Naomi she has a sister,” I said.

  “I know.” His voice held regret. “Tell her I’m sorry.”

  “I will,” I said. “Why do you talk to me? Do you know anything about the naiad deaths?”

  “Naiads? Trouble ahead,” was his vague response.

  “Sawyer, quit being all mysterious and just spit it out,” I said.

  But he didn’t reply. He’d gone as abruptly as he’d ap
peared.

  “Why do the dead have to be so ambiguous?” I asked no one and then got my stuff and headed for the gym.

  The smell of blood mingled with the usual scent of chlorine. The lifeguard was slumped over in his chair. A steady stream of blood ran from the back of his head, but he was breathing.

  The water in the pool was tinged pink with blood. A body, or at least pieces of it, floated to the surface. I took a closer look and gagged. It was a woman, torn to pieces, just like the others. The deep blue tinge to the skin made me think the victim was a naiad. I fished my cell out of my gym bag and dialed.

  “Ambrose, get to the Y on Ninth Street, fast. There’s been another murder.”

  His voice had been thick with sleep, but he quickly absorbed what I told him. “We’ll be right there. Ward the door and don’t let anyone in.”

  I did as he suggested and warded the door to the pool. I didn’t want to chance a mortal stumbling upon the crime scene and trying to pin it on me.

  I checked on the lifeguard. His breathing was shallow but steady. I had one tiny healing amulet in my gym bag—hardly enough to help, but I used it on the lifeguard anyway.

  The seconds ticked by. It couldn’t be a coincidence that the murder had occurred in the same pool where I swam every day.

  It seemed personal, but I couldn’t think of anyone who hated me, at least not more than usual, except Hecate, and the naiad killings had begun before I’d ever entered the underworld.

  Ambrose arrived in the company of an older man whose erect bearing hinted at former military. His sun-bleached hair held traces of gray among the blond and around his eyes were wrinkles from repeated squinting into the sun.

  “Nyx, this is Trey Marin, from the House of Poseidon,” Ambrose said. “He’s the head of the inter-House task force investigating the naiad murders.”

  “I think you already know my colleague Mr. Baxter,” Trey said.

  Baxter grinned wickedly. “I’m in charge of cleanup.”

  “Mr. Baxter, it is not appropriate for you to show glee at the death of one of my people,” Trey said sternly. “You will conduct yourself with respect or you will be reassigned.”

  “Yes, Triton, sir,” Baxter said, with the proper amount of humility, but he winked at me when Trey’s back was turned.

  “What about the human?” Baxter asked. The guy had the appetite of a competitive eater.

  “He’s alive,” I said. “And he needs to stay that way.”

  Baxter ignored me and gave Trey a hopeful look.

  “Nyx is right,” Trey said. “We’ll question the human and then erase the memory. I must examine the body first and then allow Mr. Baxter to work.”

  I hoped Baxter got major indigestion or a bad case of black magic poison, but he seemed to have a cast-iron stomach.

  I didn’t really want to watch Baxter do his “cleanup,” so I hung back while Trey and Baxter examined the body. Ambrose stayed put, too.

  “Triton, huh?” I whispered to Ambrose. “As in Poseidon’s son?”

  He shook his head. “You’re close. He’s three greats removed. He’s Triton the third, hence his nickname, Trey.”

  “So a mucky-muck then?”

  He nodded. “The muckiest.”

  Trey revived the lifeguard. “What happened?”

  “Someone hit me on the back of the head,” he said.

  “Obviously,” Trey said. “Anything else?”

  “No,” the lifeguard said. “Wait, I smelled cologne.”

  “What kind of cologne?” I asked.

  He put his hands to his head and groaned. “I have no idea, but it was strong.”

  Trey put a finger to the lifeguard’s forehead and sent him into a healing and forgetful sleep. “As suspected, necromancy was used to kill this poor sea nymph. Very dark magic.”

  “We already knew that,” I pointed out. “So you didn’t learn anything new?”

  He gave me a long measuring look. “Someone obviously dislikes you intensely. They brought her here alive and then ritualistically killed her. Seems personal.”

  My cousins had just left minutes before it had happened. The Fates weren’t any more popular than I was. Maybe I wasn’t the target of the gruesome message. Or maybe Naomi or Claire had seen something.

  “Danvers is the only necromancer in Minneapolis,” I pointed out. “And I saw him with Aspen before she was killed.” The deaths had black magic written all over them.

  There was also the cologne, but probably thousands of men wore the same fragrance.

  Trey and Ambrose exchanged glances.

  “Not the only one,” Ambrose said, but he didn’t elaborate.

  Trey cleared his throat. “Danvers is on our list of possibilities, of course, but politically, he’s hard to touch.”

  “Willow,” I said. “I need to go check on Willow.”

  Trey grabbed me by the arm. “It’s not Willow.”

  “I know,” I said. I swallowed hard. “I noticed blonde hair in the pool.” I tried not to think about what else I’d seen there.

  “Willow is fine,” Trey said.

  “How do you know?”

  He met my eyes. “I assure you I would know if anything happened to her.”

  I glanced at Ambrose, who gave me a reassuring smile. “You can help her by telling Trey everything you noticed.”

  I gave them a brief rundown, but I couldn’t tell them anything they didn’t already know.

  “What spell would do that?” I asked. “And why would anyone kill so many naiads?”

  “That, son of Fortuna, is a very good question,” Trey replied. But he didn’t seem that surprised about any of it. I wondered why.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I’d asked Naomi to bring Claire by Parsi so I could question them about the murder at the pool. They stopped by my desk the next afternoon. I’d commandeered Alex’s old office and nobody had said anything. Maybe they just hadn’t noticed.

  I hadn’t seen much of Claire since the rescue. Her hair had been freshly cut and styled and a stylish skirt and blouse had replaced her acolyte robes. The superior expression hadn’t changed, though.

  “What did you want to talk to me about?” she asked.

  “I wanted to talk to both of you,” I replied. “Did either of you see anything strange at the Y yesterday?”

  “How did you know we were at the Y?” she asked defensively.

  Jesus, paranoid much? “Because I swim there, too,” I reminded her patiently. “I saw you as you were leaving.”

  “I didn’t notice anything,” Naomi said. “Why?”

  I hesitated. “There was a murder there, another naiad.”

  “Same thing as Asp—as the others?” She’d avoided Aspen’s name, but we were both thinking of her.

  “I smelled cologne,” Claire said.

  “Yeah, not much help,” I said. “That’s all the lifeguard remembered, too.”

  I might have sounded a trifle dismissive, because Claire glared at me. “I recognized the kind of cologne,” she said. “I suppose you know that, too.”

  “What was it?”

  “Blood Moon cologne,” she replied. “I dated this magician in college who used to bathe in the stuff.”

  “Thanks,” I said. Blood Moon was expensive and had a heavy wet-dog undertone that only men with more money than sense of smell would choose.

  Naomi nudged Claire when she thought I wasn’t paying attention.

  “I’m having a dinner party and you and Wren are invited,” Claire said.

  “Why?”

  She gave Naomi a startled look, but Naomi just smiled. “I wanted to thank you for rescuing me.”

  “No thanks necessary,” I replied.

  Claire’s brow furrowed, so I clarified. “Didn’t the aunties tell you? They harassed the girl I loved until I found you,” I said. “It’s not like I really had a choice.”

  Her glance sharpened. “What girl? Does Wren know about her?”

  “None of your business,�
� I said.

  Claire gave a short, exasperated laugh. “Are you coming or not?”

  “He’s coming,” Naomi replied for me. She gave me a stare that reminded me she was a Fate-in-training. At that moment, I didn’t like my favorite cousin very much.

  “Quit being so bossy,” I told her.

  “Then quit being a dick,” she said. “Claire is trying, which is more than I can say for you.”

  She’d admonished me like I was a naughty schoolboy. Maybe I was acting about as maturely as one, but I trusted Claire almost less than the aunties. She’d been evasive about how she’d ended up in the underworld and was even more tight-lipped about why she’d stayed there.

  “Thank you for the invitation, Claire,” I said. “Wren and I will be there.”

  She gave me the first real smile I’d seen from her. “Great.”

  “The aunts won’t be there, will they?”

  “I guess you’ll have to wait until tonight to find out,” she said, then laughed at my expression. “No, they won’t be there. It’s just me, Talbot, and Naomi, and you and Wren. Here’s the address. And don’t be late.”

  She left the room, and Naomi started to follow, but then ran back to plant a swift kiss on my cheek. “Thank you,” she said before exiting.

 

  Claire lived in a luxury condo in Elliot Park. I’d been there before, during the early stages of my search for her.

  “Nice place,” Talbot commented as the four of us entered the elevator. Naomi hit the button for the penthouse and I snickered.

  “Probably paid with money from the Fates’ ill-gotten gains,” I said.

  “Nyx, you promised you’d behave tonight,” Wren said woefully.

  I gave her hand a squeeze. “I will.”

  The smell of stir-fry came through the door as it opened. “Come in,” Claire said. “Dinner’s ready.”

  Her place had signs of a decorator’s touch, adorned in a riot of primary colors. There were lit scented candles everywhere, permeating the condo with a heavy fragrance of ambergris, rose attar, and sandalwood.

  We followed our host into the dining room, where dinner was already set out in covered dishes. There was a framed photo of Claire hanging above the dining room buffet. There were no other photos, not of her mother or her aunts or even her cousin Naomi. I don’t know why, but it made her seem lonely.