by Ryals, R. K.
"You want the truth?" I ask, my eyes coming to rest on Lyre's. "I didn't feed off your powers, I absorbed your emotions. If that's an invasion of privacy, I apologize, but it's not something I know how to stop. You think I enjoy feeling your hatred, Lyre?" My eyes move to Bruno's."Or Bruno's greed?"
Turning to the hybrids on the sofa, I point at each of them.
"What about Fiona's obsessiveness? Hesther and Gwenyth's infatuations, or Gray's desolation? And then there are Deidra's fears and mine. You think I want to feel that, to absorb it? And then what? What am I supposed to do with it once it's inside of me?"
No one answers, and I twist the lid off the water in my hands, taking a long, steadying sip that does nothing to calm my nerves. Deidra's hand finds the belt loop on my jeans as Bruno steps toward me. Sometimes it's unnerving having Bruno near me but it's still not as unsettling as Conor's proximity.
"Maybe we could help you," Bruno says carefully.
Lyre laughs."What? Are you serious?"
Bruno glares at her as Fiona stands up slowly.
"I agree with Bruno. You were all in that dining room today. You heard exactly what I did. This hybrid king and his bonded Naphil want us to retrieve the Spear of Destiny. We can't do that if we have a wild card leader and a bickering army."
Lyre throws her hands up in the air."We don't have to do it at all! Let them go after the spear on their own. We have nothing to do with it."
"Don't we?"
The question is a bold one, and I'm surprised to discover it comes from me. All eyes move in my direction, but I don't flinch.
"I don't know what has happened in Hell. I've never seen the place, never lived there, never even knew there were such things as kingdoms and levels, but today we learned there is at least one level usurped by a hybrid, a hybrid who wants to give people like us a place to live that doesn't include Lucifer or barracks guarded by gargoyles. We've been given a chance to be a part of that. Can you really walk away from it?" I ask.
I'm doubly surprised by my fervor. I don't really know the hybrid king, but I honestly want what he's offering us. Safety. Maybe then, I can see my mother again.
I see the muscles working in Lyre's jaw, but she doesn't argue. Instead, she looks me in the eye."You. They want you to lead, and yet all we know about you is that you're a coward with a penchant for causing disaster."
I don't blame Lyre for her ire. I actually admire her for it. If I were in her shoes, I'd be just as reluctant to follow a stranger who seems to attract trouble.
"She could have killed you once with your own power," Deidra points out shyly.
Lyre's eyes hone in on the imp and Deidra moves farther behind me, her fear almost palpable. It makes me cringe, and I have to remember to release the emotion. Ace snuffles at the cottage's door, and I know he's broken loose from the thick chain Alessandro requires him to wear when I'm not near. I ignore him.
"The imp's right," Hesther says. She is sitting up, her knees to her chest, her toes flat so the fresh polish covering them won't streak. "She is also the reason the Reinhardts led us out of the Acropolis."
I shake my head. "No," I argue. "They did that for all of the hybrids."
Gwenyth shrugs next to her sister."Maybe. But it was your presence that started it all."
Gray tosses an arm across the back of the sofa, his angular face peering hard at Lyre. "The girl calmed and bound a freakin' drex. Dude, that's always been enough for me."
Lyre lets her gaze linger on me a moment, considering, before turning to Bruno. If anyone should lead us to the spear, it should be him. The group already trusts Bruno, and he revels in the authority.
"And what do you think?" Lyre asks him.
Bruno stares down at her, his face calm.
"I say we help her learn to reign in her power, and we go after the spear. I don't know about you, Lyre, but I'm ready to have a place to call home."
Not a single one of us can argue with him there. Lyre sighs.
"So be it."
***
"Do you have no control at all!" Lyre growls, picking herself up off of the floor for the umpteenth time, a large sweatshirt hanging over her lingerie. After she managed to flash all of us three separate times, Bruno made her don the oversize shirt, his eyes bright and his words brusque. None of the guys want anything to do with Lyre sexually, mainly because a dalliance with the raven-haired Demon is just plain dangerous to their sanity and ego if she uses her powers, but it doesn't stop them from being attracted to her.
Bruno sighs from behind me. "She's right, Em. Your control seems off."
For the past few hours, the hybrids have been projecting emotions at me until there were too many to block. Bruno has helped me channel it, using it to attack Lyre without actually harming her. Or at least not harming her badly. I have to admit, the way she rubs her backside now is just a tiny bit satisfying, and I have to fight not to grin.
"God, some days I really can't believe your mother is Enepsigos!" Lyre grumbles.
I feel the sudden childish urge to stick my tongue out at her but manage to refrain. My gaze moves to Bruno instead.
"You can't control emotions," I say stubbornly. I know how my power works because I'm the only one who can feel it. "You can only release them."
Bruno frowns. "Then you are a wildcard."
Fiona's bean bag crackles as she leans forward, her legs together and her hands on her knees. "Wait, maybe not. Does it necessarily have to be Emma who releases the power?"
I'm confused, and I don't hide it.
Gray stands up, a small smile on his face. It changes his features, and for the first time, I realize Gray isn't a bad looking guy.
"You might have something there, Fi," he says, his eyes meeting Bruno's. An unspoken conversation seems to pass between them.
Bruno looks thoughtful, and Deidra moves next to me, her expression sour.
"Am I the only one who thinks these people speak in a different language about eighty percent of the time?" Deidra complains.
I laugh and put an arm around her shoulder. "I'm with you, Imp. Definitely foreign talk."
Gwenyth and Hesther are on their knees on the couch, their arms on the back as they stare at us, their giggles obvious.
"It's possible," Gwenyth says.
"Think about it, Bruno," Hesther adds.
Lyre is leaning against the living room wall now, her expression cross, her hands still rubbing inconspicuously at her derriere.
"It's a crazy idea," she says loudly.
No one is paying attention to her, and I can feel the excitement as it moves through the room. I'm still confused, and I arch a brow before looking down at Deidra.
"Pig Latin," I mutter.
She grins. "Hog wash."
I laugh. "Klingon."
Deidra gives me an odd, confused look, and I throw my hands up.
"Seriously?" I ask. "You know, the Klingon language? Star Trek?"
Deidra shakes her head. I sigh.
"Okay," I say. "Na'vi?"
Deidra nods and grins.
"Now that one I know," she says. "Avatar."
Bruno shakes his head and actually rolls his eyes. "It's not a foreign language, you two. Fiona is definitely onto something. And it will take all of us."
"I'm in," Gray says immediately. Gwenyth and Hesther nod their agreement and Fiona claps.
"This is ridiculous," Lyre says, but she doesn't disagree.
Deidra and I shrug.
"Why not?" I say before bending to whisper in Deidra's ear. "Atlantean."
She laughs as all of the hybrids gather in the middle of the room. Bruno looks up at me.
"Ready?" he asks.
Whether or not I am, I nod, and the room suddenly fills with power.
Chapter 10
Conor
It's too early to be doing anything other than sleeping, and I hide a yawn as I sip carefully on the Styrofoam cup of strong, black coffee I hold in my hand before stepping over the stone fence surrounding the
training field near the hybrid's cottage. There is fog along the ground, the mist weaving over the rocky terrain and sparse grass, leaving behind a dampness that seems to seep into the bones.
"Nothing like Mississippi, is it?" Dayton grumbles from behind me, and I grin impishly as she stumbles over the stone wall. Next to Deidra, Dayton is the shortest person present.
"I don't know. The humidity doesn't seem all that different," I point out.
She shoves me from behind."You could have helped me over the wall, you barbarian. This whole 'my mom raised a Southern gentleman thing' girls have always fallen for is such a lie."
I gesture at the training field, and Dayton looks over at the group in the distance.
"And have Marcas see me touch you? I think not."
Dayton snorts. "Such a fucking lame excuse, Con!"
I shrug. "Maybe."
The two of us saunter groggily toward the ensemble gathered. Marcas and Luther are facing all eight hybrids while Will, Marion, and Grace stand behind the Demon brothers with arms crossed.
"Took long enough," Will remarks wryly as Dayton and I settle in next to him.
I yawn dramatically."No one has ever accused me of being a morning person."
Will shakes his head before turning back to the training in progress.
"And here you're supposed to be joining the hybrids in the fray, traversing the world of darkness, slaying the heebie jeebie bad guys. You know, being gung ho and all that jazz."
I glance at him from the corner of my eye.
"I've seen my birth certificate, Cuz. Nowhere on there does it say Jackie Chan or Bruce Lee."
Luther throws us a look over his shoulder, and I salute him with my cup before quieting.
"We know what each one of you are capable of," Marcas says as he marches in front of the hybrids. They don't look the least bit exhausted. I'm assuming I've missed the whole "the spear is hidden within a deadly labyrinth spiel." That would wake anyone up. Well, almost anyone.
"What we don't know is how well you can not only control your powers but work as a group. Demons are not raised to work as a unit. We fight together, yes, but in the end, it is always about the Demon. You will need to rise above this. Unity is the hybrid advantage."
"So we're hybrid musketeers now? All for one, one for all crap?" Lyre asks.
A few of the hybrids snicker as Marcas moves quietly in front of Lyre. The man is menacing enough to make even Lyre uncomfortable. His expression is never anything but even, his emotions hidden away in some black hole that only Dayton can access. No one knows what kind of life Marcas has led as the first born son of Cain and Lilith, and honestly, no one really wants to know.
"When you are about to die, and your killer is standing over your weak, vulnerable body, are you really going to care who saves your life? Or better yet, will you care if no one rescues you out of some misguided need to save only themselves."
Marcas taps Lyre on the forehead.
"Rise above this, Hybrids. In the end, this kingdom will fall under the feet of the selfish, but it will rise from the ashes of sacrifice."
Bruno moves so that his body stands partly between Lyre and Marcas.
"And what if we've already chosen to unite?"
Marcas eyes him. "Then I would know I was not wrong in choosing you."
Bruno nods, his eyes moving down the line of hybrids standing with him. I am suddenly awake, my coffee forgotten, and I place it on the ground at my feet.
"They're working as one?" Grace asks.
It's a rare sight, Demons joining together, and none of us know how to answer her. Bruno gestures at Emma, and she moves toward him, her head held high, her hair brushed down the back of a red v-neck short-sleeve top. Around her throat, she wears a small heart-shaped ruby on a short silver chain. Her eyes are as red as the ruby.
Bruno faces Marcas again, a hand grasping Emma's shoulder firmly. "Yesterday, you chose Emma as our leader. Her powers are strong, yes, but we think you're wrong."
"Oh . . . oh," Dayton says softly. "Well, this should be interesting."
Marcas stares at the dark-haired hybrid. Bruno's stance is defensive, his legs slightly apart. He is bracing for something, and it makes the rest of us tense.
"Lyre," Bruno whispers, and the raven-haired she-Demon rolls her eyes as she holds her hands out. A flame grows within her palm, and she curls her fingers as the blaze grows. Her eyes are bright, excited, but she does nothing. Fiona moves in front of Emma, kneeling so that one palm is against the ground. A line of blue electricity moves across the soil at Emma's feet.
Gwenyth and Hesther sidle up behind Emma, each one of them placing a hand on her shoulder. Lyre's flame flares, and Fiona's electric beam brightens. Deidra peers out from behind Emma's jeans, her fingers pointed at Fiona's power. Electricity crackles as it lifts from the ground before mingling with a dark yellow energy, turning the entire thing green. Gray steps in behind all of them, his eyes blank, his hands lifted, and I realize my hearing is now muted, my eyes shaded.
"What the hell!" Will swears, but I reach out and place a hand against his arm.
"Whoa there, Sir Galahad. I think he's protecting us," I say carefully.
Bruno uses that moment to raise his hands above his head, his eyes going black.
"Emma," he utters through clenched teeth. "Now!"
Emma's eyes glow redder as she reaches toward the power surrounding her, and the energy is suddenly fused. Lyre's flame is extinguished, and the green energy is gone to be replaced by a neon green ball of power with a red burning center and electric blue lines moving like lightning around the orb. Emma is tense now, her eyes void of any emotion, the power reflected in her pupils.
In her hands, she holds the power of five hybrids, and she lifts it confidently, focusing on Bruno as the air around him begins to swirl wildly, soil and leaves twisting to meet in the atmosphere.
And then Emma throws her arm back, and Marion, Grace, and Will all call out, "No!"
But it is too late. The power is hurtling now at Bruno, and I know by the time the dirt devil pulls the power into his vortex what the hybrids have done. They have discovered how to use the stronger hybrids among them to channel all of their power into one massive weapon of destruction.
Bruno's whirlwind absorbs the energy, and I can see his lips stretch into a smile as he revels in the intensity. But where there is power, there must also be release, and we watch as Bruno grimaces before directing his storm toward an old, thick tree leaning over a rocky incline. The impact is loud, brutal, and bright, and I am thankful for the muted hearing and shaded eyes provided by Gray.
The tree explodes, only to be controlled suddenly by Fiona who uses her aptitude with vegetation to control the way the splintered wood flies outward. She draws it in and shoves it toward the ground. Gravel rains down, and I instinctively shove it away from the training field, guiding the debris to the same spot Fiona has deposited hers.
And then all is quiet. Hearing and eyesight are restored. Dirt and broken down leaves are brushed off of clothes.
"I want to lead," Bruno says when Marcas is facing him again. His voice is confident.
"And you think you can?" Marcas asks.
Bruno gestures wildly."Look at us. Emma absorbs emotions without even trying. She can control power if she chooses. It is her strength, but my power LOVES power. It absorbs power the same way Emma absorbs emotions. It starts from the bottom. The twins, Fiona, Lyre, Gray, Deidra . . . they raise their powers, Emma calls on them, and then I absorb it, using it to destroy anything our individual powers cannot touch."
Marcas raises a brow. "And you think this makes you a leader?"
Surprisingly, it is Emma who answers.
"No," she says. "His power makes him a good warrior, but the group trusts him. He makes good choices, and he has remarkable control. This is what makes him a good leader."
Marcas turns away from the group, his face toward the gargoyles, Dayton, and Luther. It is then he smiles. He knows as well
as we do that he has his army. Emma has changed her destiny, her mother's own prophecy. She won't be the group's leader, she will be their anchor. She will be the foundation that keeps them standing.
Marcas faces them again, his eyes sweeping over the group carefully. They are all so young, especially Deidra at only fourteen years of age, but they have spent their lives in an aimless chokehold of abuse, of abandonment, and denial. Only Emma has grown up in a happy home, presumably dying and fatherless, but happy. She is the glue that will hold them together, and she is strong enough to do it.
"And Emma's control over emotions?" Marcas asks.
Bruno's face falls. "We haven't been able to help her completely there, but it is better."
Emma's head is still held high, her eyes on Marcas.
"I'll learn. I just need to figure out how to channel it properly. People shouldn't have to work at constantly blocking their emotions from me," she says. "Having the drex near helps."
Emma's eyes meet mine briefly, and then shifts away.
Marcas claps his hands once. "I won't lie and tell you I don't need you. What you're being asked to do will mean the difference between life or death for thousands of hybrids. There are dozens of stories told that define who we are supposed to be as Demons. To mortals, we are either a myth or an abomination. It's a mold I'm determined to break."
"A Demon with principles. Boy, I bet his mother is proud," Will cracks, and I elbow him in the ribs.
This is a momentous moment for a race on the verge of a holocaust. Gargoyles are used to being revered, lifted up, praised. The hybrids have to fight for it, and even then, it isn't much of a fight. It is simply a walk through a death-filled labyrinth to retrieve a spear with the power to give the hybrid race a small semblance of peace. There will be no grand battle, no one to cry if any of them die. They will be silent heroes to a group of outcast people.
"I will guide you to the labyrinth," Marcas says evenly. "Once there, you will be on your own."
Marcas turns away then, and I catch a glimpse of his face as Dayton takes his hand in hers. This isn't easy on him. He's a leader sending the children of powerful Demons in to retrieve a spear he wants to go after himself. But he can't. Enepsigos' alliance depends on the children of Tephras, Onoskelis, Pleidas, Ephippas, and Iudal. Even Enepsigos' only daughter, Emma. Enepsigos' orders are clear. Marcas has proven himself the ruler of his kingdom. He sacrificed himself to prove his worth once. But every kingdom needs heroes. Every kingdom needs someone to look up to, an army willing to sacrifice themselves for the same cause. Every kingdom needs its legends, its motivation to continue. In one fell sweep, Marcas will be solidifying an alliance, Enepsigos will be strengthening her own kingdom, and Marcas will be acquiring his heroes. It is the stuff of legend. If we survive.