Twisted Fate (5, Rhyn Eternal)

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Twisted Fate (5, Rhyn Eternal) Page 11

by Ford, Lizzy


  “Can’t believe I have to think about that,” she muttered and stepped through the doorway.

  Silence fell as she left the human world behind. A beautiful, petite, blonde woman in a Grecian style black dress stood several feet before her. The stone walls, ceiling and floor around her were black.

  “I’ve been waiting for you,” the woman said almost shyly. She smiled, revealing tiny fangs.

  That’s not good. Stephanie glanced over her shoulder to find the portal had already closed.

  “Come on. It won’t take them long to figure out where you are.” The blonde began walking down a long, dark hallway whose lamps rendered it light enough to see but not clearly. Darkyn was written across her shoulders, once in maroon in a similar style to Stephanie’s mating mark, the second time in black.

  Stephanie swallowed hard, heart pounding. Wherever she was, she instinctively knew it wasn’t anywhere in the human realm.

  “You don’t want my mate finding you either,” called the blonde.

  “Who’s your mate?”

  “The Dark One.”

  This was sounding worse by the second. Stephanie hurried to follow her. “Why are you helping me?” she asked, drawing abreast of the blonde. “Maybe I should ask … are you helping me?”

  The blonde gave her a warm look. “I am. Sometimes good people get dropped into bad circumstances. This isn’t for Fate, by the way. This is for you.”

  “Not many of you Immortal people get along well,” Stephanie murmured.

  “No, they don’t.” She smiled. “I’m Deidre.”

  Stephanie gasped. “The Deidre? Who has my soul?”

  “Nice of him to tell you,” she said with disapproval. “Yes, but you can’t have it back. Not yet. Not here.”

  “Not where?”

  “Hell.”

  Stephanie glanced around and shivered.

  “Darkyn, my mate, will sense you if you have a soul. You’re a blind spot to demons without it.”

  “But you knew I was coming.”

  “I’m not your average demoness. You’ll be safe here for now.”

  If she stopped to think about the reassurance, Stephanie would snap. Instead, she focused on what she needed to think to survive. “Is that why the demons were at my apartment? Because you sent them?”

  “No. My mate is looking for you, too. Which is why you can’t leave your chamber unless I’m with you.”

  “Being mated to an immortal or deity doesn’t mean you always get along,” Stephanie observed.

  “It’s like any relationship. The universe puts you together. You have to make it work.”

  “You’re a human like me.”

  “I was, up until a few months ago.”

  “And you’re stuck with the devil? Why don’t you just tell them all to go to hell and leave?”

  Deidre smiled. “You’ll see.”

  Compared to the devil, Fate didn’t seem so bad. Stephanie kept quiet and hugged herself, not at all impressed by her latest jaunt into the world of immortals.

  Deidre led her into a chamber whose walls were as black as the hallways. Even the sickly fire burned black.

  Stephanie gazed around, not comfortable in the small, dark space.

  “There’s magic here,” Deidre said and crossed to the nightstand beside the bed. On top of it was a round turntable. “When you’re hungry and thirsty, tell the room what you want, and it’ll appear here.” She tapped the round table.

  Stephanie said nothing.

  “Are you okay to talk?” Deidre asked.

  Stephanie was surprised to feel she was. Her thoughts weren’t scrambled after the encounter in her apartment the way they had been when she was first introduced to the Immortal world.

  “It’d be nice to talk to someone normal for once,” Deidre added.

  Hoping the only other near-human she’d met wasn’t going to fuck her over, Stephanie nodded. Fate had warned her not to negotiate with Deidre even if the woman did have her soul, but talking sounded innocent enough.

  Deidre went to the black rug before the hearth and sat. Stephanie did the same, and they gazed at one another.

  “I can go first. Want to hear the wildest story in the universe?” Deidre asked with a laugh.

  Hours later, when Deidre had finished, Stephanie sat in stunned silence.

  “I can’t even …” She wasn’t able to wrap her head around the tale Deidre told her involving a human-turned-deity named Gabriel, Past-Death, Fate, and a slew of other people. “This is insane. After you left the Underworld, did you give Hell back to Darkyn?”

  “What do you think?” Deidre laughed and rose, crossing to the magic tray table. She ordered food and seconds later, two plates with cheeseburgers and fries appeared. Bringing them back to the hearth, she handed one to Stephanie, who was recovering from the latest immortal weirdness.

  “And you’re happy?” she pressed.

  “Yeah.” Deidre nibbled on a fry. “There’s definitely an adjustment period.”

  Stephanie shook her head. “It makes no sense.”

  “Darkyn wanted a mate. I think your struggle is different. Fate is … complicated.” Deidre’s expression grew puzzled. “The longer a deity has been around, the more potential enemies he has, too. He comes across as not caring but he picks fights with the strongest deities for a reason. He was an enemy of my twin and of Darkyn. But then again, none of the deities are ever at peace, unless they’re working against someone else. It’s this complex system of checks and balances. I don’t know if it’s a good thing for you or not that Fate’s so good at it.”

  “Wynn isn’t a deity but he’s a heavyweight, right?”

  Deidre’s expression grew shuttered. “Yeah. He’s in deep with a lot of powerful people.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring him up.”

  “You don’t want to mention to anyone he’s your father,” she advised. “Or that Fate is your mate.”

  “Easy. He’s not.”

  “Okay.” Deidre giggled. “But seriously. Down to business.”

  Stephanie looked up from the last fry on her plate. “Business.”

  “You need to learn a few things quick to increase your chances of surviving this. The mate of a deity can make deals on his behalf. He has no magic at the moment, but you do.”

  She tilted her head, listening.

  “Anything you promise anyone else, he’s obligated to follow through with it. So … promise carefully,” Deidre said. “Among deities, these oaths form their complicated network of alliances and checks and balances. Oh, and never, ever make a deal with a demon. Hell runs off deals, and demons don’t normally lose.”

  “You’re telling me this because …”

  “We need to make a deal.” Deidre smiled. “For your soul.”

  Stephanie’s mouth went dry. “Couldn’t start with something a little less terrifying?”

  “I’m not my husband or Fate or anyone else. And, since this is your first deal, I’m not going to screw you over. Your soul is already in Hell.”

  “This is so fucked up.”

  “Just remember – you have control over your own life. It doesn’t feel that way now, but trust me, you do. You’re the daughter of Wynn and the mate of Fate. You have more potential power than almost anyone else I know.”

  Stephanie felt the tension in her belly uncoil some at the warm reassurance.

  “And so you know, your soul is safe here with me. I took an oath to Fate to protect it, to protect you. I can’t return it until the timing is right. But I will return it, if you’re willing to make a deal with me.”

  Do I really have a choice? “Okay. What is it?”

  “Wynn.”

  Stephanie waited.

  “As the leader of the Immortals, he’s dangerous. He needs to be replaced.”

  “Killed?” Stephanie whispered, stricken.

  “Replaced. How it’s done is not my concern. For your sake, you want to keep a deal as general as possible. No timeframes, no sp
ecifics that limit your wiggle room.”

  Stephanie deliberated before speaking again. “Is this a demon speaking who wants him out of the way so the demons can raid humanity?”

  Deidre shook her head. “This is the human side of me speaking. Humanity stands a better chance against my mate without Wynn in control. Wynn’s goal is power not protection.”

  Stephanie drew a deep breath. “Okay. I agree.”

  “The last thing you need to remember to do is stipulate there are no unwritten terms and conditions. Demons love to trip you up with small print.”

  “In exchange for my soul, I’ll find a way to replace Wynn,” Stephanie said. “No unwritten terms and conditions.

  “Good enough. Fate will know how to follow through.” Deidre held out her hand. “Fist bump.”

  Stephanie did so, and a streak of coldness shot through her.

  “It’s now irrevocable,” Deidre said. She rose. “I’ll leave you to rest. You’re safe here. Just don’t leave the room, okay?”

  Stephanie nodded.

  “Bathroom’s over there.” Deidre pointed. “Clothing in the wardrobe. I’ll check in on you in the morning.”

  With no clocks or windows, Stephanie had no idea what time it was. She was full but not tired, too freaked out by the idea of sitting in Hell to want to sleep. Crossing to the bed, she sat with her back to the wall and stared at the door. She didn’t need Deidre’s reminder not to leave the room. She had no intention of wandering through Hell and running into demons or anything else her imagination could create.

  She was, however, fascinated by the magic turntable.

  “Organic chocolate cake with caramel icing made with no processed foods whatsoever,” she said, testing the magic of Hell.

  It appeared instantly. She eyed it, a little leery of eating food in Hell, before she leaned over and grabbed it.

  Her Hell cake was the best food she’d ever tasted. She scarfed it down and ordered warm milk next. Drowsy after the snack, she rested on her side without going so far as to commit to crawling under the blankets and drifted to sleep facing the door.

  Chapter Ten

  Wynn was pacing in frustration.

  It was Fate’s only comfort in the dungeon of the chalet. Blood dribbled off him from too many wounds to count, often times further tormenting the delicate skin around injuries that had already begun to heal. He gazed at the stone ceiling above him, unable to move. Spread eagled and naked on his back with his limbs tied tightly a little too far from one another to increase his misery, he was in one piece. Wynn had ordered him tortured but all of his appendages remained accounted for.

  For now.

  Wynn’s first demand came as no surprise but his second, revealed today, had Fate wondering if his favorite appendage was going to survive the Immortal.

  He’d been able to neatly avoid the sensation of pain for tens of thousands of years, an advantage of being able to see the future. The feeling shocked him at first. Similar to his first kiss as a human-ish being, he wasn’t accustomed to how intense humans experienced their world. But in the six weeks since this mess in Wynn’s basement first began, he’d begun to categorize the kinds of pain and soreness to keep his mind occupied on his misery and not wandering into worry.

  Warm pain, hot pain, agony, anguish. Slow, creeping pain … bright, sudden pain … He’d ranked them from bad to worst and was currently debating whether the initial pain from broken bones or that from fire held the number one spot for worst pain ever.

  “It’s simple,” Wynn said, calming. He sat once more in the chair beside Fate’s suspended form. “I will get what I want from you.”

  Fate said nothing. He was enjoying the breather too much. A tremor of concern went through him. He’d been awake for multiple days straight, too long for him to recall when he’d last called in a favor from a fellow deity to extend the tenuous protection he arranged for Stephanie. He dared not waste a favor by calling it in too soon, but if his human mind was too confused to know for certain, he risked exposing her to everyone who was looking for her by not acting.

  He tried again to count how many days it’d been. There was a blank spot in his mind where he had no idea how much time had passed.

  “One favor from Fate. Just one,” Wynn continued. “Don’t you think your life is worth one favor?”

  Fate had no intention of cracking. He surprised himself with his resolve. He hadn’t been physically tested in millennia. His normal game was mental, and he was pleased he made it this far.

  “Try the second request,” Wynn’s chief tormenter, an Immortal with one eye, said from the corner. “He blinked when you mentioned her.”

  Ah. He caught that. Fate’s physical weakness and exhaustion were wearing on his mental sharpness, which was what Wynn intended. People under physical duress were easier to manipulate than those who weren’t, a technique Fate had used countless times.

  “It’s not a request,” Wynn replied. “It’s an order.”

  “You can’t order me not to claim my mate,” Fate said, amused despite his pain. “Your Code forbids anyone from interfering.”

  “If you choose to abandon her, it’s not me interfering,” Wynn responded acidly. “What does a deity know of selflessness? Of love?”

  “What do you know of either?” Fate tugged at one of his bonds restlessly. The human experience was starting to get old, but he only began to worry when he realized he had no idea of he was succeeding in giving Stephanie her life back.

  He didn’t even know if she was alive. The stark limitations of a human’s mind had begun to fuck with his thinking and knowledge of the world. Wynn wasn’t going to let anything happen to her before he got what he wanted, yet the uncertainty, the fear for his mate, remained.

  “You look down upon Immortals and humans alike but it is you who is not worthy of us,” Wynn added. “You think I’ll turn my daughter over to a creature like you? You have no value for life.”

  “You’ve never cared for any of your children let alone a daughter you only just met.” Fate grimaced.

  “I care for all my children.”

  “You’re not after her,” Fate ventured. “But something she can offer you. What?”

  New pain, this one stemming from a slap with a barbed whip by the one-eyed tormenter, flashed through him.

  “Is this vengeance … or something else?” he gasped.

  “Vengeance is a good start. There are six of you I have particular plans for,” Wynn replied.

  “Hurting me will hurt your daughter.”

  “Perhaps. But it’ll hurt you more.” Wynn rose and motioned to the tormentor. “Put him on the wheel for the night.”

  Damn. Fate didn’t particularly care to be tortured but the wheel was his least favorite. The medieval contraption meant he neither slept nor was able to heal, not when he was being inflicted with new wounds for a solid eight hours in a row.

  “And so you know, I wouldn’t object to her being mated to a deity. I object to her being mated to you,” Wynn added from his position standing at the door.

  “Because I had a hand in killing you.”

  “Because you don’t know how to do anything but manipulate and lie. You’d trade her to the demons for a favor.”

  Wynn left, slamming the door open on his way out.

  The words resonated within Fate. Would he view a mate as nothing more than an additional tool in his toolbox to manipulate? Everyone in his life had a purpose and a role, and not one of them was present out of a sense of friendship or loyalty. Fate didn’t know the meaning of fidelity to anything, except for Karma, who he still planned to use when needed.

  His fatigue, coupled with the incessant pain preventing him from real rest, was wearing down more than his resistance to Wynn. His own perception of the past millennia had begun to shift in a timespan not worth remembering given the extent of his lifetime.

  For once, his focus wasn’t on the great game, on what hobby he wanted to master next, on the drama among deities and I
mmortals that kept him entertained. His mind was on the one thing he’d never put much thought into – how he filled his life with hobbies, politics and games because there was nothing else to fill it with. Time, living and the Future had lost their value to him. His existence had become a series of distractions, one after the next.

  Alone with his thoughts – or strapped to the wheel, experiencing pain as a human – he began to notice how, when the distractions were stripped away, his life was filled with nothingness. Tons of it.

  The tormentor brought in two more of his thugs to lift Fate from his position and carry him into the room next door, where the wooden wheel awaited him. At each of four points was some tool of torture. The wheel dragged him through water at its lowest point, fire at its highest, razorblades on the eastern point and feathers on the west.

  After several nights on the wheel, he dreaded the feathers the most.

  Pain radiated through him, distracting him from his thoughts. They strapped him to the wheel, face down tonight, and stepped aside to move the torture devices in place.

  Fate rested his cheek against the wooden wheel and steeled himself for hours of agony.

  Without the distractions, what was there? Further, who was he if we wasn’t searching for distractions? Was this what Karma had meant about him losing himself?

  He had no answers, and this disturbed him more than hearing the motor of the wheel rumble to life.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered, sensing Karma.

  His sister had visited often in the past few days. Her hair and eyes were black, and she was wringing her hands.

  “I can’t find her,” she said, distraught. “I had her and then …”

  “Is she safe?”

  She nodded. “She was but then she was just gone. Brother, if I could just talk to the Ancient, I could -”

  “Absolutely not. I’ve warned you many times. You do not do business with them.” Concern made Fate lift his head. “If you want to help me, find her, Karma. Please.”

 

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