by SM Reine
Jaycee had never loved him more than that moment.
She kissed Pierce briefly, squeezed his hand, and went back to the terminal.
His shout of surprise made her turn back.
The bridge was melting. For an instant, Jaycee felt guilty for even thinking the word “thaw” so many times, though she knew the dissolution of the bridge was nothing to do with her mood.
Pierce had dropped into the water, and he was trying to surface. He was a strong swimmer. In normal water, he’d have been fine. But this was roiling as it had never roiled before, and the undertow was yanking him down.
Ymir dropped the cables. “I’ll get him!”
Jaycee swore under her breath and kicked off her shoes. “Don’t. That water is not as cold as it’s supposed to be, and an overgrown ice cube such as yourself will die.” She was wearing sneakers again—this pair “borrowed” from one of the refugees in the Spring Court—but even practical shoes were still impractical when attempting to swim.
She didn’t get the opportunity to dive in after Pierce.
The wall of the darknet sagged inward. A hole melted near the servers in F section, and hot magma exploded into the darknet with an explosion of steam.
Ymir leaped out of the way, dragging Jaycee with him.
“Oh my,” Jaycee said. Her brain finally added two and two together. This level of destruction was not a bad sign after all. “Pierce! Excellent news! I believe Konig is dead and the entire palace is collapsing above us!”
He responded by letting the last oxygen out of his lungs and sinking under the surface.
“Good gods, man, I am not the only one of us capable of casting magic,” she sighed. “And now I’m going to have to rescue you.”
The magma turned to black rock where it hit water, which was fortunate, because Jaycee and the terminal were now teetering on the last of the ice island. She yanked the cables out of the back of the computer’s tower and leaped onto the cooling rock barefooted. The cables were only a backup anyway—a method for non-sidhe to use the terminals. Jaycee could operate everything without them.
She set the tower down and plunged her arm into the water.
There was no point in adding coolant—not when it was helpless against this much magma—so Jaycee drew all of the fluid inside herself. It had come from her in the first place. She’d literally bled the coolant from her veins when establishing the darknet, which had been quite the source of humor for all of her asshole sidhe contemporaries—all of who were now dead except for Pierce, she would have smugly pointed out if there had been anyone left to be smug at.
Anyway, she took it back, and the chamber was empty, which had seemed like a great idea to save Pierce from drowning, but now meant he was at the bottom of a lava waterfall.
“Frosty!” he roared, climbing the opposite wall to escape the gush of flaming death.
“At least you can breathe now,” she said with a sniff. “Get up here and don’t you dare die.”
“You’re a terrible person!”
“Says the man who decided to walk out on me for weeks with no explanation except for a few deliveries of flowers.”
“This is revenge?”
Had he not heard her, scrabbling around at the bottom of the darknet chamber like a frantic hamster? It was a rescue attempt.
“I’ll get him now,” Ymir said.
“Don’t be stupid. Hold this.” She gave him the computer tower, which he easily fit in the palm of his hand. “Don’t let it get melted.”
Jaycee spilled magical coolant over the hole in the wall, hardening the magma to form a seal.
That only resolved part of the issue. The whole chamber was now quaking.
Because the king was dead.
He was dead, that little piece of shit, and Jaycee had never been happier for it.
A door on the opposite end of the room opened. Marion entered, supported on either side by Nikki and Heather. She was so much taller than them that she was completely doubled over to use them as support. But that seemed to be the least of her worries, considering she was basically a blood popsicle at this point.
“Konig is dead!” Marion called weakly.
“And water is usually wet, except in certain choice locations in the Middle Worlds,” Jaycee said. “Thanks for the news update, genius.”
For once, Marion’s pride didn’t seem to be wounded by this, since she didn’t rise to argue. Of course, that was most likely because her attention was entirely focused on the more physical wound that would kill her in short order. “Are you ready?”
“I suppose.” Jaycee hadn’t gotten time to reorganize the darknet as she’d hoped, but there didn’t seem to be much point now.
Jaycee extended the stone bridge to reach the opposite doorway. Rearranging the Winter Court felt strange to her suddenly. Like it was itching in her sinuses. It used to be that her willpower had to be stronger than that of the standing rulers to take control, but now there was no competition. None at all.
Ymir took advantage of the bridge to walk over and pluck Marion out of Heather and Nikki’s arms. “What happened?” he asked, gently lowering her to the safest part of the new magma island.
“Divorce,” Jaycee said. “Congratulations. You’re a widow, Marion!”
Her eyes weren’t even open at the moment. She groaned, clutching the wound in her chest. “The world’s about to end.”
“Yes, I imagine so.” More of the darknet chamber had begun to melt and was now dripping two inches to the left of her head. Given the color and consistency of it, she believed those drips to be components of her servers that had been liquefied. Several parts of the preternatural world now would not have access to their software in the cloud. Whatever would they do about all their missing grocery lists and shared Evil Plan folders?
Oh well.
Heather crouched beside Marion, glaring up at the ceiling. “There’s thousands of sidhe living up there now. How do we save them?”
“Hold the castle together. The only reason everything hasn’t collapsed is because I’m alive,” Marion said. That appeared to be a momentary condition considering the color of her cheeks and lips.
“You aren’t sidhe and you are not enough to hold up the Middle Worlds by force of magecraft alone. Let us fix this,” Jaycee said.
One of Pierce’s arms shot over the side of the island. He gripped a curve of hardened lava rock and hauled himself up. He’d survived. That was wonderful. Better still, he was on the same train of thought as Jaycee. “We need new rulers of the Middle Worlds to replace Marion and Konig immediately.”
“You?” Nikki asked.
Jaycee laughed and dragged her husband to her side. “Don’t be stupid. We never wanted to rule.”
“That’s what you’re all here for,” Marion said.
A lot of confused, shocked eyes turned on her. Except for Ymir’s. He didn’t seem to realize that Marion’s “you all” had included him, and he was just pressing gentle fingertips against the biggest of Marion’s free-bleeding wounds to help slow her demise.
There were three sidhe “here”—and three courts that needed to be claimed now that Konig was dead.
And Marion had plenty of blood from the last remaining queen to give permission to Jaycee’s magic to make changes. They just needed to do it fast enough to make sure that there were still enough components in the darknet to reach all corners of the Middle Worlds.
Marion lifted a weak hand. Mage energy bubbled from them, just in time to keep a fresh spray of magma through the wall from turning all of them to scorched skeletons.
It was very hot in that bubble. Ymir was sweating.
“I don’t want to be queen of anything,” Heather said, right when Jaycee slashed a dagger over her arm to collect her blood. Heather was originally of the Summer Court, so she bled sapphires.
“Too late,” Pierce said. “These decisions have already been made and it’s too late for a change in plans.” He took the bloody knife from Jaycee. “Unless
you’d rather let everyone in Niflheimr die? And in Alfheimr, and—”
“Fine!” Heather snapped.
Jaycee hummed to herself to drown out the hissing magma sounds while she mixed blood from everyone in the bubble.
“Why me?” Ymir asked, looking at his cut wrist in confusion. Diamonds dribbled from his veins. “I’m not gentry.”
Marion’s fingers inched over to touch his toes. “You’ve got the power of a king. It’s okay because…” She swallowed hard, and her eyes closed again. “You won’t be alone.”
Jaycee and Pierce had agreed to steward the Winter Court until Ymir was grown. It was more ruling than either of them wanted to do, but better than taking permanent control.
It was true that Ymir had the power of a king, though. He’d likely rule the Winter Court splendidly if he could get over his sugar addiction.
Lifting her fists, Jaycee grabbed bolts of power from the remaining pieces of the servers. They were melting even as she used them.
She anointed Heather as queen first.
The power came over her with a jolt, and the archer’s eyes widened as her skin began gleaming brighter.
“You’d better use that new power to heal Marion before she dies,” Jaycee said, slinging fresh spells onto Nikki to make her Queen of the Autumn Court. It was a messy collection of bindings; Myrkheimr would probably still fall apart by the time that she got there.
“Heal her?” Heather turned those horrified eyes on Marion, and she looked repulsed.
“If you think she’s worth it.”
“You don’t?”
“I don’t care,” Jaycee corrected. “Marion’s long been a thorn to me. Do whatever you want.”
Marion’s eyes weren’t even opening now.
Heather wasn’t healing her. She was just…staring.
The world was melting around them. The protective bubble held strong, but it was beginning to flicker as Marion lost consciousness.
Jaycee bound the Winter Court to Ymir. It was the hardest one to change, since she had to wrench it away from not-yet-dead Marion to give it to the boy.
The bindings blinked into existence.
And the entire darknet chamber collapsed with them inside.
Just as Seth had dreamed, there were three men in a car heading to Ransom Falls. Unlike his dream, he could only see two of him. But now he understood that all three were there. Benjamin wasn’t simply melded with Nathaniel; they were distinct, warring entities.
In a way it was reassuring to see that car. It meant that time hadn’t run out yet, and that both of them—all three of them—were still alive for the time being. Nathaniel’s sullen expression was a sign of life as much as their beating hearts and flowing blood.
But in every other way, the sight of that car on the road was totally unreassuring, because it meant that Seth’s dream had been reflective of reality. And the deaths to come were also reflective of reality.
Seth appeared in the back seat beside the place Benjamin’s ghost was sitting, unseen.
“Jesus!”
Abel swerved. Nathaniel grabbed the wheel to steady the car.
“What are you guys doing here?” Seth asked. “You’re not supposed to be here until the night the Genesis warp opens.”
His brother was shooting him a dirty look in the rearview mirror. “What the hell? You’re not supposed to be here at all. You’re supposed to be saving Marion’s life.”
“I already saved her from the Godslayer, and now I’m back here,” Seth said. “Call it multitasking.”
Abel didn’t really care what happened to Marion anyway. “How do you know where we’re supposed to be the night the Genesis warp opens?”
“He’s a god, you moron,” Nathaniel said.
Abel cuffed him like a wayward puppy. Nathaniel fell back against the door, dazed.
“I’ve had a vision, and you’re all about to die,” Seth said. “Although I’ve interfered now, so Benjamin can’t cause trouble like he did when I saw him. Benjamin, don’t cause trouble.”
Nathaniel blinked woozily. “Huh?”
“Not you,” Seth said. “Him.”
He tried to focus on the seat beside him—where the real Benjamin should have been. How was it possible that he’d seen his nephew in the vision but couldn’t see anything in person? As Nathaniel had pointed out, Seth was a god.
Nathaniel’s eyes popped wide. He tensed all over, suddenly alert.
He’d been caught, and he knew it.
Abel hadn’t yet caught on to catching things, and he was mostly just staring between the two of them with suspicion instead of watching the road. His golden eyes were narrowed.
His nostrils flared, and he sniffed.
“Huh,” he said. “I knew something was up.” He turned to face his son slowly, with new understanding in his eyes—and a whole lot of anger. “Nathaniel.”
Nathaniel leaned over and wrenched the wheel to the side.
Just like he had in the vision.
And the car flipped…just like it had in the vision.
Seth’s presence was different. His reaction time was godly. When the car’s wheels lifted from the road, his hands were already on both Nathaniel and Abel’s collars, and he phased them away from the vehicle with a hard pang of his ash heart.
When the car landed in the bottom of a ditch, all three of them were sprawled safely on the road.
Nathaniel’s foot lashed out. It connected with Seth’s jaw, and had he been human, that likely would have hurt a lot. It also would have let Nathaniel escape on foot. But Seth was a god, so it only succeeded in annoying him.
Abel was the one who pinned him to the ground. “Nathaniel?” he growled.
“Fuck off,” Nathaniel said.
“You’re lucky you’re inside my son,” he said, “or I’d check the color of your brain in the moonlight.”
“Down, boy.” Seth got to his feet, wiping off his jeans. There wasn’t really anything on them. To be fair, at this point the jeans didn’t exist either. Old habits.
Abel sat back. “I’m not gonna hurt him. Just saying I could hurt him.”
Nathaniel’s fists clenched. “If I had my magic…”
“You don’t. Shut it.” The Alpha mate stood, dragging Nathaniel with him. “What’s he done with Ben and how do I get him back?”
“Benjamin’s here now,” Seth said. “He’s a ghost. Pushed out of his body. As long as Nathaniel’s safe, I think Benjamin’s safe too.”
His breast was hurting. The singular act of phasing shouldn’t have been enough to significantly damage his ash heart, but the racing fear pounding through his body seemed to be causing it to deteriorate.
Or else messing with the Meta was causing the injury.
He pulled the neck of his shirt away and looked down. There was less than an inch of ash left.
“So we’re supposed to be dead now?” Abel asked.
“Yup.”
“But we’re not.”
“Nope.”
“All right. So what’s gone wrong?”
“Like I said, I had a vision of your deaths. It happened at almost exactly midnight when the Genesis warp opens, but that shouldn’t open until November fifth.”
Since when had there been such calculating intelligence in Abel’s eyes? His thoughts crawled across his face as he weighed the information, and the source, and the reasons someone might lie about the date the Genesis warp would open. “Did Marion tell you that?”
Dread crawled through Seth’s guts. “Yeah.”
White fire flared in the forest. The Genesis warp was budding open again, and that meant that they weren’t far from the place where Dana, Anthony, and Brianna were going kamikaze on Leliel. “Can you get Benjamin to the light before midnight?” Seth asked.
Abel nodded. “Do what you gotta—”
Seth didn’t hear the end of that sentence.
He popped between locations, and he reappeared at the edge of the angel nest with an aching chest.
His friends from the Hunting Club hadn’t descended yet. Motion on the ridge overlooking the clearing suggested they were currently having that argument about whether they should wait for the Godslayer.
Seth lurched into the light.
Leliel and Irohael turned at the sound of his footsteps.
“You aren’t supposed to be here,” Leliel said, two seconds before Seth drew a gun from his underarm holster. Neither gun nor holster had existed moments earlier. They appeared with another lancing pain in his heart.
“Neither are you,” Seth said.
The angels dived at him together.
Whatever reaction he’d been expecting, that wasn’t it. He’d expected more subtlety. More calculation. Angels were the chess masters of the preternatural world, and they were likelier to kill someone by dropping a piano on their head from a distance than direct conflict.
They did pretty well in direct conflict too, unfortunately.
Irohael’s blazing sword sliced through his belly before he could think to step back to aim. Before he could even phase. When he finally did phase, there was no amount of godly willpower remaining to seal the wound in his flesh. The Infinite all but poured out of him, spilling across the earth.
His chest throbbed. It hurt so much, and every pulse made the taste of apples flood fresh across his tongue.
He’d hoped to jump in and jump out with the angels, clearing a path for the Hunting Club—and for Benjamin Wilder. Now Seth wasn’t sure he could even walk too far without losing the last of the ash.
James’s godly face swam through his mind.
Come back to us.
“Not yet,” he ground out between gritted teeth. “There’s still shit to do, you ethereal asshole.” Seth lifted his gun. Irohael’s wings were spread wide, and it took an effortless twitch to bring him into the air. He swept toward Seth.
A shotgun fired behind him.
Magic crackled.
Dana McIntyre didn’t manage to take Irohael as cleanly as she had in Seth’s vision, but her aim was still fairly decent. She stripped the end of one long wing of its feathers. Silver blood sprayed.
Now the angels were flanked.