The Underworld (Rhyn Eternal)

by Lizzy Ford

  Coupled with her hunger, the thought of tasting him was overwhelming.

  The cold flow of energy was stronger from this man, and even stronger from the man behind him. Her demon senses were opening, and she drew in the evil with less effort than before, collecting it with some bafflement, and then readying it to defend her.

  Driven beyond emotion by hunger and fear, Deidre didn’t wait for the next man to grab her but gripped his arm, unleashing the cold energy into him.

  He fell instantly.

  The man behind him drove her back with a slash of his sword. Deidre jumped away, uncertain what to do against the weapon, and concentrated on sucking in more of the cold energy circulating in the room to use when she had the chance. Slipping on the tile, she landed hard on her knees, barely avoiding another blow.

  He hauled her up, and she slashed his forearm, forcing him to let go.

  The dealer bellowed, and the scent of blood filled her nose. Deidre barely had time to move before he wrapped his hand in her hair and wrenched her head back, knife at her neck.

  “Got one!” he shouted behind him.

  His blood dripped down his arm, and she found herself unusually fascinated by the trickle of maroon droplets towards her.

  Deidre licked her lips. Horrified by her body’s response, she steeled herself, touched his forearm and released the cold energy.

  Man and knife fell.

  Her hand was covered in his blood. She stared at it, resisting the need to lick it clean. She wiped it on her dress instead and rose.

  “Deidre!” Karma’s choked cry drew her gaze.

  With her hand around the neck of one man, Karma was immobilized while her magic wound around him, unable to fend off the second death dealer with a sword at her throat.

  This ends now. Deidre chanted silently, gaining strength from the fury behind the words.

  The dealer raised the weapon to strike off Karma’s head. A flare of fear drove away what little thought Deidre could muster. Demon instinct, intoxicated by the scent of blood, compelled her forward, a black fog wrapping her in its embrace as she all but flew over the ground.

  She felt it more strongly then, the flow of evil emanating from the man. Betrayal, malice. He’d done bad things and betrayed Gabriel, and his depravity called to the demon in her like a siren song.

  Deidre let go of the human side of her, knowing it wasn’t strong enough to do what the demon side of her needed to do and save Karma. She closed her eyes and let her senses take her. Vaguely, she registered slashing someone’s body with her claws not once, but three times.

  Warm blood sprayed her, and someone screamed. She tasted blood in her mouth, its sweet, rich flavor making her human instincts clamor.

  But god, was it so good! She drank deeply before her emotions caught up with her. A combination of disgust and hunger filled her.

  Deidre opened her eyes and released the body of the man much larger than her. He dropped to her feet, and she stared.

  His neck was ripped out, the way she’d seen Darkyn do before to his demons when they tried to attack her during her second day in Hell. The dead man’s exposed skin showed the signs of being shredded by her nails. Blood dripped from her fingers and mouth.

  Staring at the damage she’d done, she wasn’t able to decipher exactly what she felt. Shock that she’d taken out someone so much bigger than her, disappointment the blood did nothing to whet her appetite and horror that she was losing the part of her that was human.

  Satisfaction that she’d just proven beyond a doubt she was the wife of the devil.

  The bathing chamber was silent, and her demon senses told her the only other living life was Karma.

  “You did it!” the goddess cried, startling her. Her features glowed, her eyes white-grey and her hair slowly settling.

  “Yeah,” Deidre managed, staring at the bodies at her feet. Her head was pounding, her internal war to keep from diving into the blood pooling beneath one of the dealer’s absorbing her concentration. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve and grimaced at the amount of blood covering her white clothing.

  The deity was smiling, any judgment Deidre feared absent from Karma’s whirling eyes and possessed hair.

  “You get to claim their souls,” Karma said cheerfully.

  “I don’t think I can do that.”

  “It’s simple. Touch one and tell him to come to you.”

  Deidre shook her head, uncertain if she wanted to weep at what she’d done or wallow happily in blood. Her body trembled, and she regarded her bloodied clothing briefly. “I need to change,” she whispered. “I feel dirty.”

  “Karma thinks you should wear black. We might have to kill more. Blood won’t show up on black as much.”

  Deidre nodded and fled through the dead to the bedchamber, at once relieved by the absence of heavy, humid air and scent of blood. She went to the wardrobe and started to pull out more clothing, when it hit her.

  She’d killed four men, using the devil’s magic, and even drunk the blood of one. Her adrenaline faded.

  What if, one day, the demon side of her replaced her humanity? What if she slid into the depths of Hell and lost herself?

  She barely spun in time to vomit outside the wardrobe. Stomach heaving, Deidre dropped to her knees once more and held her midsection, tears rising with the reality of what she’d done. She threw up the blood she’d just sucked down, her stomach cramping for Darkyn.

  Karma approached quietly. Deidre ignored her, struggling with her own inner agony, until the urge to purge receded.

  “I’ve never … I can’t …”

  “I understands, remember?” Karma said. “She … I can feel what you do.”

  Deidre nodded, somewhat relieved not to have to voice her tangled feelings out loud.

  Karma crouched beside her, peering into her eyes. The deity’s hair was in tight curls once more, her eyes faded green. “Karma is proud of you.” She pushed hair out of Deidre’s face.

  “I’m not … sure what to … feel.”

  “Happy to be alive. Happy that Karma is alive. Happy to know you never have to be hurt again.”

  Deidre drew a shaky breath. “Okay. Are you docking me Karma points for this?”

  “Karma has points?” The goddess smiled, puzzled.

  Deidre shook her head. “It’s, um, a saying. I guess I want to know if it’s okay that I killed four people.”

  “You saved Karma the effort of doing it.”

  “That’s not exactly what I meant.” Deidre debated silently for a moment. She had proven to herself that she was no longer the victim. But at what cost? “Am I a bad person now?”

  “No.” The resolute response was quick, firm.

  Deidre studied Karma, not entirely reassured that the woman who had just killed ten men was the best judge of character.

  Then again, she’s Karma. She’d know if I crossed the line. Except Deidre didn’t know how slashing someone’s throat open was not crossing the line.

  “Could you be biased since I did it to save your life?” Deidre asked doubtfully.

  “I am not biased!”

  Deidre straightened and managed a wan smile. “You said it right first try.”

  “We are both learning today.” Karma appeared pleased with herself.

  Deidre wiped her mouth on her sleeve, stomach steadied.

  “You do not act with malice,” the deity added gently. “Karma has no problem with those who act justly.”

  Deidre sighed, uncertain why hearing the words meant so much. “I guess I’m afraid of turning into the devil or losing me.”

  “Trust yourself. It’s not possible for you to be anyone but who you are, even if you are half a demon,” Karma said wisely. “Karma can see your soul from the inside out, remember? It is pure, even now.”

  “Darkyn said the same.”

  “Dark One.” Karma growled, the way she did whenever talking about the Great Imbalance. Her eyes flashed black.

  Deidre smiled despite herself.<
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  “Change. We must go,” Karma said and stood.

  With effort, Deidre rose and went through the wardrobe quickly. She was feeling even weaker after the incident in the bathing chamber. Her fingers had trouble gripping anything on the first try, and her movement felt labored. Her vision was growing fuzzy around the edges, her ability to concentrate long gone.

  The sensations were familiar – those she’d begun to experience when she was dying of a brain tumor.

  “Karma … I think I’m going to be in trouble soon,” she whispered. “I’m dying, aren’t I?”

  “Yes.” Karma’s tone was sad.

  Again. It didn’t seem possible that she’d evaded her fate once only to run into it again as an Immortal. Deidre changed as fast as she was able to.

  “Only the blood of your bloodmate can save you,” Karma said.

  “We need to find the other Deidre and leave,” Deidre murmured. “Soon.”

  “Then come. They will send more dealers soon when they see these have disappeared.”

  Deidre took a moment to center herself and then strode forward, joining Karma at the door.

  Karma took her hand, and they entered the hallway together.

  Chapter Eleven

  Barreling through the dark passageways of the palace, Jared hit the brakes when another door appeared before them.

  “What’re you doing? Go!” past-Death urged, pushing at him.

  A flare of blue-green behind her made her turn. As before, there was nothing there. She stared into the darkness, not understanding why she kept seeing it.

  “You go first, cupcake. I’m not getting my head chopped off.”

  Rolling her eyes, past-Death maneuvered by the demon, fearful of being followed. She’d never been concerned about such a thing before and wasn’t certain if it was even possible for the death dealers to find her in the walls.

  She opened the door into a dimly lit room with no windows. It was small, and she recognized the same ancient, quiet magic that resonated in the dungeon. Recognizing the pedestal in the center of the room, she started to retreat. The tunnels had indeed taken her to the safest place in the palace.

  “Shit,” she muttered. “You can’t be here.”

  “What?” Curious and assured no one was waiting to attack, Jared shoved her hard enough to knock her into the room.

  “Really. We need to go!” past-Death said, taking his arm.

  “Stop.” He gripped her neck in response. “What is this place?”

  Past-Death said nothing, aware no demon in history had set foot in the sacred room. Only the two Deaths preceding her had ever been here. Even if her blocked memories didn’t let her recall what she’d done in here, she innately knew this sacred spot and its power.

  “Are those … souls?” Intrigued, Jared released her and strode towards the pedestal. A caldron sat on top, the glow from the souls in its waters the only light in the room.

  Past-Death heard the sounds of distant pursuit, confirming the dealers had found a way into the passageways, and reluctantly pushed the door closed. “Only Death or Death’s mate can find us here. We’re safe enough for now. But we can’t stay long.”

  Jared’s growl was low and deep as he took in the contents of the caldron. He reached into the caldron.

  “Don’t touch!” she shouted. “The water is demon proof. It’ll kill you instantly.”

  Jared hesitated.

  “On second thought, do touch it. You’re a pain in the ass,” she added.

  He lowered his hand without moving.

  Past-Death stepped beside him and peered into the caldron. There were only a couple hundred souls in its depths, but they ranged in color from the large black one to different shades and sizes of red, blue, green, yellow, purple, and orange. The gems glimmered and winked.

  “Death is guardian over the souls of the deities,” she whispered. “It’s why no one likes to fuck with Death.”

  “Good trump card.” He pointed to the black one. “Dark One?”

  “Darkyn’s predecessor. As soon as Zamon lost Hell, I collected his soul and brought it here,” she said. “It’s not the same with all of them. Some just appear when the deity dies-dead.” She closed her eyes, trying to recall the exact importance of the closet. The sacred room was hidden behind the door in her bedchamber, a place every Death must first go and place his soul in with the rest of the deities. “Death’s domain extends beyond what most think of it. I just can’t remember what else is here.”

  Lifting her eyes to the entrance, she shivered as the cool magic humming within the room grazed the back of her neck. There were two dozen smaller bowls along one table, and she paced to it. Each one was filled shallowly with water and contained flickering images.

  “Sanctuaries and the shadow world,” she murmured, studying each. “Portals maintained by Death for use by deities and Immortals.”

  Jared said nothing and walked the perimeter of the closet, trailing his hand along the wall, as if he were looking for other hidden doors.

  Past-Death returned to the caldron, a sense of longing and uncertainty floating through her as she took in the souls once more. Her past was erased, the entirety of her reign as Death missing. She recalled the last twenty-six years only. They were like distant memories, with the human memories of the past week all that seemed real.

  They’d know what I can’t remember. She studied the lantern-like souls in the bowl. Did she want to recall everything she’d ever done? By the reactions of those around her, she wasn’t certain.

  Gabriel knew what she was and was willing to take a chance on her. If she didn’t want to do it for her, didn’t she owe it to him to see if there were any secrets she should’ve known as a former deity to help him?

  “Jared, you said I will always be who I am. What did you mean?” she asked. “Something more than a philosophical outlook? An Immortal secret I forgot?”

  “I don’t give a shit about your self esteem.” He was in front of the door, his ear pressed to it as he listened. “Something happened out there. I smell food.”

  “Are there dealers waiting for us?”

  “No. Nothing living.”

  “Good. Now, I want to know what you meant, seeing as how you’ve never met me before.”

  “Come with me to Hell, and I’ll tell you.”

  “Damn demons. You can’t just answer this one question?”

  “Does it matter to you?” he asked, facing her.

  “Yes.”

  “Then no, I won’t. You can make me a deal.”

  I really hate demons. “Never mind.” She took a deep breath and let her hands hover over the waters of the caldron.

  Fear floated through her. She wasn’t so sure she was ready to see who she was, or at least, who others thought she was. But she needed something to jar her memories more now than before.

  “You think you should do that? It’s not human-proof?” he mocked.

  “I may be human, but I’m also the mate of a deity.”

  “Hasn’t done you any good so far,” he pointed out. “If you could access Gabriel’s magic, wouldn’t you have been able to get us out of here?”

  “I got us out of our cell.” She eyed him. “Why are you so concerned for my safety now?” He had a point, even if she didn’t like it. She didn’t remember enough about the souls or closet to know whether or not a human mate of a powerless deity was able to talk to the souls in the caldron.

  “I like not being dead-dead, and you are the best way to ensure I stay that way.”

  A tear she didn’t feel dripped into the waters beneath her hand. Past-Death wiped her cheeks, uncertain why her human body thought now was a good time to cry.

  Because I can see everything I gave up. The knowledge of the universe. The power of a goddess. The only thing missing from the closet: Gabriel.

  The tears came too fast for her to prevent them, and sobs wracked her tiny frame. Past-Death sank against one of the walls and drew her knees to her chest, burying her fa
ce in her hands. She wept for all she’d chosen to give up. She wept for what had slipped through her fingers. Her future was bleak, lonely and depressing and she was helpless to change it. Even if she was able to earn back the trust of good people like Gabriel and Deidre, did she deserve it? Was she worth the time and effort it’d take them to forgive her?

  Or was she better off leaving their lives for good? Gabriel was her mate by Immortal law, but she wasn’t going to spend a lifetime with someone who didn’t want to be with her and could never love her, even if he stayed.

  The idea she’d truly lost him had never seemed real before now, and it was a thought she didn’t think she could live with. She’d risked everything to love him the way she thought he deserved – and lost.

  Past-Death cried until she was too tired to continue then pulled out one of the meat pies from her pocket to nibble on. There was some relief in sobbing, but it hadn’t helped her resolve any of her issues.

  How did someone like human Deidre handle a situation like this, where there seemed to be no real hope?

  Silver lining. Past-Death dwelled on the thought she’d heard others use when talking about human Deidre. The Dark One’s mate had managed to make a relationship with a demon work, had spent years with a terminal brain tumor and almost died several times when she entered the Immortal world.

  She did it by looking for the good in everything, and Past-Death closed her eyes to think hard. Where was the good in her situation?

  “I have nothing else to lose,” she said for her ears only. She could start over, prove to herself and Gabriel that she was capable of being a better person. If there was one thing she learned from Deidre, it was that the human-turned-demon never lost hope.

  Gabriel had loved her for so long, wasn’t it possible he might one day love her again? If she became the person he deserved, the kind of human she needed to be?

  Jared was pacing, his attention on the door. “Before you start that shit again, why not come with me to see what’s out here?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I think we will both be pleasantly surprised. And I need you to get back in here.”