Tainted (Netherworld Book II)

by Christie Rich

  I make myself give her the truth, all the while hating myself for doing it. “You’re not in the state of mind to make the best decisions.”

  She bristles. “Since I’m the only one here who’s ever even met my dad, you are so wrong. I should be the person making decisions for this mission. Period.”

  Ian, the buffoon, laughs. “Yeah, we’d give you the reins for sure, Amelia.”

  Her open hand snakes out to his face like a whip. “Do not mock me!”

  He covers his nose, quelling the blood with his fingers. Glaring, he stares at her for a long moment, but his normal signs of volatility are under control . . . thankfully. He glances my way, sending an inner rant. You’d better be right about this, Seth. If she doesn’t find a recruit for me, I’m coming after yours.

  Leaving Amelia with Ian is the last thing I want to do, but considering the alternative, this is the best option. I look at Amelia while answering Ian. Take a deep breath, little brother. She hurt nothing more than your ego. She senses people. Be careful. Your recruit will have to come later.

  He harrumphs, straightening. With a flick of his head, his disheveled hair moves back into place. Eyes bright, he smiles at Amelia. “One day, sweetheart, I’ll have a woman who will retaliate for your unprovoked attack. Until then, it’s you and me, babe.”

  She rolls her eyes, but her demeanor has deflated. “I’m sorry, Ian,” she says. “I’m not sure what came over me.” The worst part about her statement is I think she means it. He doesn’t comment. Perhaps she will be able to tolerate him better with her aggression out. I sure hope so. Apparently ignoring Ian’s slight, she asks, “How are we going to meet up?”

  I take her hand to pull her against me. Maybell looks away. Ian stares. I block them both out and tip her chin back. “We have it all planned. It’s better if you don’t know details. Your reactions could ruin the effectiveness of your disguise.”

  Her eyes cut away, sadness filling them. “Whatever you say, Seth. I just want this over with.”

  Delaying any longer will not help matters. I nod and step aside. Once again, Ian offers his elbow. She tucks her arm through his, and they disappear into the trees. They shall take a different portal. I hope Ian hasn’t discounted something important. I hope many things, but most of all, I hope we all survive this mission unscathed.

  Maybell smiles, as if to reassure me. Yet seeing her as Amelia disturbs me, especially since she seems to have adjusted so easily to the form. She gives me a flippant twist of her lips, then heads for the portal. The farther we go, the more hesitant I am to follow through. Perhaps I should go after Ian and Amelia to end this madness. I’d more likely put them both in danger.

  Maybell glances over her shoulder. Even her voice sounds exactly like my charge. “Coming, lover boy?”

  Keeping her in this form has already depleted me. “Must you so completely copy her?”

  She laughs, tossing out a hand. “If I’m to be convincing, I have to mimic her. You’re the one who taught me, Seth. Are you suggesting I do a shoddy job?”

  I’d love to tell her yes, but I shake my head. In theory, the deception was genius. In practice, it is dismal. I follow, keeping behind her on purpose. Between her appearance and performance, I could easily lose track of whom I’m speaking to.

  We remain in silence until we reach the portal. Maybell waits, tapping her foot. Only I know our path this night, and it will remain so. Even though I have allowed her to come, need her to be here, I still cannot get my suspicions where she is concerned under control. Something is off about her, but she’s had so much pressure because of Peter I have allowed her leeway.

  Her hands clasp at her waist. “Where to? Or are we staying here?”

  Normally, Maybell doesn’t ask questions. She trusts me to lead. Every mission has risks. “You know protocol. I will inform you where to meet us only if the need arises.”

  Her teeth clamp as she nods. The tension between us thickens, but I will not relent. The last thing I need is for her to go rogue on such an important endeavor. She follows me through the gate, and we’re swept into the next realm. I’ve chosen peripheral worlds without much Erobos activity, but one never knows when they will show up. Our disguises are simple, our baggage humble. No matter the world, there are always vagabonds.

  I keep Maybell in close sight but hang back, as if we are not together. Not only does this allow me to think without worrying she will interrupt me, I can also study her. I’ve been on many missions with this woman. She does what is necessary, regardless of the outcome. For the longest time, she was convinced we’d be able to find her world and set her people free from the Erobos. I hoped along with her, but once our numbers dwindled, I told her we would never be able to locate her world, let alone liberate it.

  Even then, she shook her head, telling me there was always a way. Her patience is extraordinary. Many have gone mad in the attempt for redemption . . . and vengeance. Hopefully, she seeks only redemption.

  She remains focused as we traverse the worlds. No one bothers us, which is too easy. It is as if the path were laid in our favor. It could be the dreamers are busy tonight. I did send complex dreams for this reason, but I figured we’d have some interaction.

  When we reach our rendezvous, I instruct Maybell to wait in the shadows. I enter the coffee shop and sit at a small table by the door. The waitress rushes to my side, making me wonder if I’ve been her only customer today. The place is cozy without being kooky. After a few minutes, Maybell comes inside.

  The waitress smiles, watching Maybell take a seat in the corner. She clears her throat, then asks in a mouse of a voice, “May I take your order, sir?”

  Caffeine is not my friend, but since this dreamer remains busy, I’m probably safe. “Black, one cube of sugar, please.”

  The small woman points a slender finger at a sugar bowl by the creamer. I nod, then motion her away. She scurries to Maybell, takes her order, and dashes behind the long bar. I’ve never understood why someone would occupy a seat which faces away from the door. So many things can happen in an instant. Passersby glance through the window, some ignoring me, some flinching when they catch me watching them. Most don’t look at all.

  A steaming cup is placed in front of me. I’m offered a smile, so I give a tip of the head. “Thank you,” I say, hardly aware of the woman as she leaves to attend Maybell.

  The two start a conversation about shoes, which I have no interest in. I take a sip of my drink, cringe and add the sugar. It’s much better when I bring it to my lips again. My thoughts turn away from the bright furnishings to the next world we must traverse.

  Having never been to this particular dreamer’s world, I will have to be extra careful since Ian is unlikely to be cautious. Time floats by on my worries yet does not yield the result I desire. Ian and Amelia are still not here. My fingers tap the table, bringing the attention of the waitress. She tops off my cup, even though it could not be more than a few drops.

  She hesitates, so I look at her. She offers a contrite smile. “Care to spill your troubles, mister?”

  Ian has to be the most annoying man in the universe. He’s been talking nonstop since we began our super-secret journey. I’ve hushed him; he’s rambled on. I’ve talked over him; he’s kept going, blathering about how much he can’t wait to have his very own live recruit. Gah, like I care about some stupid girl he’s going to con.

  My conscience pricks my mind. How can I get behind Ian doing to someone else what Seth did to me? My knuckles still sting from punching him. Occasionally I wonder how I can be here and back at Seth’s at the same time. My body feels solid, so who knows what the difference is? I’m grateful to be anchored in Seth’s realm, but I’m also terrified I’ll lose this part of myself. I’m almost certain someone stole a piece of me to remove my memories, then planted half-truths in my mind. Brock is just as big of a scumbag as my dad; he just has a cuter face.

  Ian grabs me, and I’m forced to slow, then stop. A growl races up my throat. “What?�
�

  He shakes his head, his voice low enough to make me strain to hear. “Don’t move another inch.”

  My blood ices until a cold sweat covers me. My awareness heightens as my muscles tense to act. We’re on an ordinary street, halfway down the block. Boxlike brick houses are stacked on either side of the street with big oaks planted close to each curb. The sidewalks have buckled in places and cracked in others. The only light comes from three scattered streetlamps. The windows are all black, just like the sky. There are no stars, no clouds, no moon . . . nothing. This dreamer needs help. I whip my head toward Ian, mouthing, why are we here?

  He gives me another baleful look before pulling me into the side-yard of the closest house. His freakfest is starting to make me shake. Pushing me behind him, he backs us up against the wall.

  A low growl rumbles on the wind, bringing with it the scent of death. My heart palpitates against my ribs, and my lungs tighten until breathing is the only thing I can focus on. I slide my hand into my pocket to curl my fingers around the small orb. Ian better do something soon, or I will.

  When another growl ricochets off the buildings, memories flood my mind, starring a ghastly creature that ripped me up with one lick of his forked tongue. Seth told me it was a true nightmare, sent by the Erobos. I’d hoped to never have to encounter another one, but being here with Ian instead of Seth makes this scenario ten times worse. Ian is so unreliable; he might leave me as anything.

  He turns blazing eyes on me — they totally blaze — as if he just read my thoughts. If we didn’t have a demon on our heels, I’d lay into him again. His eyes widen. I roll mine. Waiting for him to make a damned decision is going to take forever. If only Seth had taught me how to command the nightmare like he did. I edge my way along the wall until I’m flush with the corner. Taking a deep breath I count: one . . . two . . . three.

  I peek around the building, taking a quick sweep of the street. The creature is two houses down. The air splits as it crashes through the closed garage door, which crumples as if made of aluminum foil.

  Uh-uh. I take off, clutching for Ian’s hand on my way. He doesn’t make a sound. His fingers tighten on mine until he’s yanking me through the backyard and over a fence. My jacket catches on a link, ripping on my way down.

  Once we get past the other yard and clamor through the gate, we race away, hand in hand. Fire explodes from the next street, followed by loud booms. The creature lands on a rooftop to the side of us.

  Not knowing what else to do, I grab for my weapon, but Ian already has his. He fires, missing the nightmare’s long black snout by centimeters. The thing lands in front of us to rear back, wiry legs punching the air.

  The ball in my fist enlarges into a pistol. I’m better with rifles, but it will do. The creature bends low, as if to pounce, fiery eyes glowing with hell’s fury. A part of me wishes I didn’t have to kill it, monstrosity it is.

  The tongue whips out while I shoot. Pure white light burrows into the eye and the thing lets out a garbled wail. I cover my ears, but I won’t allow myself to look away. It crashes to the ground in a pile of muscle and bone. One last flick of the tongue catches Ian on the hand. He cries out in familiar agony. The horror in front of us lights up from the inside until tiny particles lift off, spiraling toward the atmosphere. The specks separate until they anchor themselves against the midnight background. The national anthem plays in my head as the stars are replaced in the dismal sky. When I look back at the creature, the only remaining piece is a hazy orb, much bigger than the others. In under a minute, the moon finds its place among the stars.

  Ian groans, clutching his hand against his chest. I frown. Why isn’t he healing himself? He falls to his knees to sit back on his haunches. I kneel beside him, prying his hand away from the other. The bone is exposed on the side, making me gag. This isn’t some copy of Ian. This is his flesh and blood. When I was attacked by such a creature, the pain was indescribable. But Seth healed me. “What can I do? Tell me what to do!”

  He clenches his teeth, gritting through another tortured moan. Without letting myself overthink it, I clasp his hand to me, thinking of the bests things I can under so much pressure. I let the hope inside me grow until it pulses, wanting out. I’ve done this a few times now, so it’s a bit easier.

  Light spills out of me and into Ian, who stares unbelieving. Our eyes lock as I continue to pour out what I have to give. A few seconds of silence pass until his voice startles me. He raises his other hand to my cheek. “You are the most amazing woman I have ever known.”

  I lift myself to my feet and step away. I glance back. “You ready? Seth will be worried about us.”

  His expression deflates, but he nods, standing. “Sorry for making you uncomfortable, Amelia, but what I said was true. I will never be sorry for saying it.”

  These guys only think I’m great because all they really have to choose from are dreams or aliens. Oneiroi may be able to shift into any form they desire, but they seem to have a fondness for humans. I waive him off then start walking.

  He lets me get twenty feet before he says, “Other way.”

  When I face him, I stick my tongue out. He just laughs. Knowing Ian a little better makes me almost regret my reactions to him earlier . . . almost.

  When we reach the portal, I ask, “Do you really think it’s a good idea for me to be here?”

  He hesitates long enough for me to question the truthfulness of his answer. “Yes.” He smiles, but it’s the barely there kind that might as well not be there at all. “Absolutely.”

  We’ve waited for a few hours. The waitress, once eager to serve us, barely even acknowledges us anymore. She’s turned her attention to cleaning and peering out to the street. The store hours are posted near the door in my direct line of sight.

  An aged sign hangs by a nail on the wall. Open 10:00 a.m. to 9:00 p.m., Monday through Saturday. It’s eight forty two. If Maybell and I are forced to leave, we will be vulnerable. This world isn’t our target. It’s one of the safest we had to choose from, but Erobos aren’t predictable. One thing is certain: Daegan will be searching for Amelia. He will do whatever is necessary to locate her. I hoped he would leave her to the underlings until he really had a chance of turning her.

  I’ve run my memories over and over, but I’ve never seen him act this way toward a single person, woman or no. Rhea wasn’t even on his radar until she targeted him. I haven’t allowed myself to worry this much in a very long time. I need to stop. It’s strange to sit here, staring at Maybell, who looks like Amelia. Not once have I questioned our ability to transform, but seeing my team member covered in Amelia’s skin sends a bolt of trepidation through me. If the real Amelia were here, I’d be able to calm myself simply by being in her presence. Maybell does not offer the same effect.

  The waitress slips by my table, dropping the check on her way to Maybell. As hints go, this is hardly subtle. I stand, throw a wad of cash by my full cup, and walk out the door. Maybell takes more time to chat up the woman before she, too, leaves.

  A chill lingers in the air. I frown, wondering what has shifted to disturb the dreamer. I hope it isn’t our presence, but there is no way to truly know. He is relatively stable and highly active, which makes manipulations all the more difficult. Because of his awareness, Erobos cannot take hold in this world, but neither can Oneiroi. The most we can hope for is to remain unnoticed. Otherwise, we will be expelled forthwith.

  Finally, Maybell wanders outside. She shows no sign of hurry or agitation. I can hardly hold my emotions in. If we don’t hear from Ian and Amelia soon, our plans will have to be delayed or even scrapped. The last thing we can afford to lose is our element of surprise. We need to face Amelia’s father as a team. The mission is pointless without her.

  After a few minutes of drawing curious stares, I send Maybell a message to meet me around the corner. We’ll have to circle back and hope Ian and Amelia have made it by the time we return.

  We join a group of movie goers, but bypass the theate
r when they go inside. Only one of them turns to shake his head at us. We wander the streets for a little longer before heading to the coffee shop.

  My heart hammers as we approach. If Amelia isn’t there, I’ll have to look for her. I just hope she’s used her safe word if she got into trouble.

  Two figures come into view, one tall, the other taller. Ian brushes the woman’s hair away from her face. She stiffens, scanning our surroundings, quite uncomfortable. I smile, even though I should give my brother a lesson. Unlike Rhea, Amelia does not have a wandering eye.

  The woman Ian has chosen for Amelia to impersonate is much taller than her true form. She has fiery red hair and large, brown eyes. I’ve seen Ian with this particular female a few times in the Dreamscape, which makes me wonder who inspired the form. I’ll have to remember his preference when seeking a recruit for him.

  Amelia catches my gaze. Her eyes widen, then soften as her body relaxes. I should not wait to make her my mate. I’ve only thought to keep her from my curse, but she is already bound to me in so many ways. Her strength gives me hope, despite the uncertainty of our future.

  When she moves to walk to me, Ian grabs her hand. She turns on him, anger hardening her mouth. He only has to give her a pointed stare before she nods, rolling her eyes. She leans against him, acting the part of smitten companion. Being convincing in her performance is another thing entirely.

  Maybell pushes past me to speed to Ian. Her mouth turns in a hard frown. “Where have you been?”

  He narrows his eyes, taking a moment to size her up. “Busy,” he says with a wink. “You ready to blow this joint?”

  Even though his words are light, he sends a thought to my mind. We were chased down by a nightmare, Seth. Maybe we should abort.

  Maybell gives Amelia a hug, who in turn shoots a questioning glance my way. I shrug while my mind races. Nightmares can’t be controlled once released. Their sole purpose is to destroy, to hurt, to maim. From what I can see, both Ian and Amelia got away unscathed. Why, then, does the brother who is too eager for adventure not want to follow through with the one thing he’s been pressuring me to complete?