Alora sighs. “I hate when he gets like this. Focused Tallon is an annoying Tallon.”
Blue shrugs. “You know how he is. When he’s scheming, everything else takes a backseat. Honestly, we’re lucky he got us rooms first.”
I glance at the closed door and try not to feel disappointed. I sigh. “So, what now? We hang out and wait for the brilliant Tallon to reveal his awesome and awe-inspiring plan?”
Blue shrugs. “Pretty much. Hey, at least we have cable again.” He takes off into his room, and Alora grins at me.
“I looked at the Strands while we were in the car. Blue’s going to sneak out and meet Jimmy. He and Ricki are staying in the hotel as well.”
I frown. “How does someone who lives in a trailer park afford a hotel like this?” If it hadn’t been for Tallon’s hypnotizing skills, we wouldn’t be staying here either.
Alora shrugs. “I don’t know. Good question, though.” She disappears into her room, and I enter mine, wondering if maybe Alora isn’t so hot at reading the Strands of Time after all.
I waste no time jumping in the shower, turning the hot water as high as I can stand it. It’s a mistake. There’s nothing to do but think as the water pours down on me. And I have entirely too much to think about.
Hades is my father. All this time I thought I was the product of some romantic affair, my father a random Æthereal. But instead I’m the offspring of an Exalted. And not just any Exalted, but the villain, the vættir equivalent of the boogeyman. The old stories aren’t kind to Hades. Where the other Exalteds, like Zeus and Apollo, are bright and dashing, Hades is dark and terrifying. Knowing he’s my father is more than a letdown. It’s a little scary. He’s the King of the Dead. When he shows up, people die. And now I get that honor.
I’m not really thrilled with that revelation.
Killing Ramun Mar was an accident. But the Acolytes? Their deaths clutch at me, eating away at my conscience in the quiet moments. But not as much as I feel like they should. Almost a thousand people died the night Ramun Sol killed Cass. Shouldn’t I feel a little guiltier about their deaths?
I haven’t had a lot of time to think about it, but now that I know who my father really is, I wonder if my lack of remorse is because of him. Am I programmed to just not give a damn about the people I kill? Is it part of wielding the darkness, or just a family trait? Harpies kill without remorse, but mostly because they see it as a badge of honor, the number of kills. I’m not proud of the deaths. I just don’t really care, like the kind of remorse little kids have about stepping on ants. It happened, and I know I should feel bad about it, but I don’t.
Thinking about my lack of regret is actually more depressing than the deaths of the Acolytes.
My brain is too full of questions that I have no answers for, so I turn off the water and get out.
I’ve just managed to get dressed in fresh jeans and a T-shirt when there’s a knock on my door. I drop the towel on the floor and pad to the door barefoot. A quick glance through the peephole reveals a nervous-looking Tallon. My stomach does a swan dive, and my heart beats triple time.
I can’t yank open the door quickly enough.
“Hey,” I say, trying to look like I’m not about to hyperventilate. “Are we meeting now?”
He shakes his head quickly. “Not yet. Can I come in?”
I want to say no. I could laugh, like I’m too cool for his games, before slamming the door in his face. But I don’t do any of that, because the truth is that I’m just glad he’s here.
I step back and he walks past me into the room. I close the door behind him and take a deep breath. The last time we were in a room by ourselves I threw myself at him. That’s not going to happen this time.
Maybe.
When I turn around, Tallon wears a sad smile, and I tilt my head to the side. “What?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Come here.” His voice is slightly above a whisper, and huskier than normal. It turns my legs to mush, but I still manage to stumble over to him.
He cups my cheek with a sigh. My breath flutters in my chest, and I have the wild irrational thought that maybe I’m dreaming. There’s no way this beautiful boy could be in my hotel room, looking down at me with eyes of the darkest violet. I have to be asleep.
But then Tallon leans forward, his lips brushing mine. Such a simple act. Lips touching. But the result is pure magic.
Electricity.
The contact sets off a flurry of tingles low in my belly, and I tiptoe to deepen the kiss. Tallon pulls back, and his expression is like a bucket of cold water to the face. The corners of his lips tug down, twisting his normally guarded expression into one of sadness.
“Tallon?” I move to step back, but he grabs my arm, squeezing too tightly.
“I’m sorry,” he says, voice low. At first I think he’s talking about the kiss, and a wave of hot rage crashes through me. But then I feel the cold bite of metal as the cuff locks around my arm. I look down in openmouthed shock. Tallon just banded me with a damper.
“No,” I whisper, pulling for the darkness. It’s far away, useless. The damper is a mute button on my abilities. Tallon has just crippled me.
What kind of a game is he playing?
I can’t reach the magic, but I don’t need it. I extend my talons and swipe at him, catching his cheek and parting the skin.
Tallon’s head jerks, and he looks over my shoulder at someone behind me. “Trust me,” he murmurs. I’m so angry that he’s just thrown a damper on me that I don’t even acknowledge his words. I scream and reach for him, but someone grabs my arm from behind.
“Temper, temper, little bird.” I throw my head back, catching the person behind me with the back of my skull. Hopefully I just broke someone’s nose. They dance away, and I spin around, my rage drowning out my normal fear. I blink, because I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
Ramun Sol stands in the middle of my hotel room wearing jeans and a T-shirt. He looks completely normal without his Acolyte getup on. Cass’s murderer is here, and I’m completely powerless.
The rage evaporates, an icy cloud of fear taking its place. I try to pull the damper off, clawing at my skin. I dimly register the pain, blood welling up and around the dark metal. Ramun Sol laughs at my panic, the sound high and mocking.
“Uh-oh, it looks like our little friend isn’t so brave without her shadows.”
He’s right. I’m terrified. The spirals of darkness on my arms have retreated into thin gray lines. I can’t even sense the darkness, much less call it.
I collapse on the floor, utterly hopeless. Tallon. He’s betrayed me. “Why?” I whisper.
Tallon doesn’t answer me. It’s Ramun Sol who dances close, his face inches from mine.
“Why? Because he knows that the bright will win. We’re the good guys. Don’t you get it? The world needs the light. The darkness is an aberration.” Ramun Sol shoots Tallon a knowing grin. “It also doesn’t hurt that our friend over there wants to get on grandma’s good side.”
I look at Tallon and then back at Ramun Sol. “I don’t understand.”
Tallon’s eyes lock on mine. “Hera is my grandmother. Typhaon is my father.”
There’s not enough oxygen in the room, and I struggle for breath. In the old stories Typhaon was a monster birthed by Hera in a fit of rage over one of Zeus’s affairs. Hades took pity on the creature and let it live in the Underworld, where it was responsible for keeping the drakans contained. But so many of the old stories are wrong. This one can’t be true, can it?
But it can. I remember my mother was just talking about a mission to the Underworld to save a friend from Typhaon. And Nanda and Mom were friends from way back. Did Nanda and Mom go down to the Underworld to save Tallon’s mom? Is that why Mom was so angry when he started to manifest darkness? Because she knew he was the child of a monster? It can’t all just be a coincidence, can it?
“No,” I say, shaking my head. Tallon’s father might be a dark lord, but I can’t imagine Tallon has sold me out t
o Ramun Sol.
Tallon shrugs, as though betrayal is a common part of his life. “I told you I was a monster.”
He did. It’s something he’s said to me more than once. I thought he was being dramatic. I should have known better. Tallon isn’t one for melodrama.
But looking up at Ramun Sol, I’m starting to think maybe Tallon is one for a little treachery.
Ramun Sol sighs. “Are you finished? Because I’d like to kill her now, if you don’t mind.” Ramun Sol strides forward and lifts me up by my hair. I clutch at his hand, trying to get him to let go. I hate the whimpers of pain that manage to escape.
Tallon doesn’t even look at me. “Yeah, whatever. Where’s my grandmother?”
Ramun Sol laughs. “You really think I’d tell you?”
“I gave you what you wanted. Are you going back on your word?”
The Æthereal shrugs. “So? What are you going to do—tell your granny? Do it, and then we’ll see what the old woman thinks.” For some reason that cracks him up, and he begins to laugh. It’s the same sound as when he slit Cass’s throat, and something gives way inside of me. I don’t know whether it’s Tallon’s betrayal, all the lies I’ve been told, or the ache of being held up by my hair, but I snap. After all, I might not have my darkness, but I still have years of Harpy training.
One of the old sayings comes back to me: A Harpy goes where Æthereals fear to tread, so a Harpy shall fear no Æthereal.
I’m already dead. Might as well take a little bit of Ramun Sol with me.
I let go of Ramun Sol’s hand and use my talons to swipe at his eyes. He drops me, and as I fall, I kick out at his midsection. He doubles over in pain, and from my spot on the ground I kick up, catching him in the face.
I have never had this much fun kicking someone.
I quickly climb to my feet just as he recovers. He reaches for his solar flare, and I instinctively run toward him. There’s a saying in the Aerie: Do the last thing your opponent expects. It’s good advice, and I manage to catch Sol in a flying tackle. The attack is enough to send him sprawling, and I kneel on his chest as I use my talons to rend his face.
Ramun Sol screams. The slices from my talons heal slowly, and he shudders as though each touch burns. At first I think his reaction is because of the pain, but then I realize he’s laughing. His eyes open, brightness like the sun leaking from them. “By the Rift, you Harpies are stupid.” I have a moment of shock before a flare of light sends me reeling backward.
I moan, each nerve ending on fire. Sol stalks slowly toward me, but I’m helpless to do anything but writhe around in pain. Without a word he picks me up and hurls me across the room.
I smash into a barrier, and then I’m lying on the balcony. Glass rains down on me. As I struggle to my feet, I dimly realize that he just threw me through the sliding glass door. Pain blossoms bright and hard, and takes too long to fade. I roll around in agony. Ramun Sol crunches over broken glass, his steps slow and deliberate as he approaches. I try to get up, to run away. But everything is slow to respond, and before I can climb to my feet, Ramun Sol is next to me. His boot presses into the small of my back, crushing my spine and forcing the air from my lungs.
“Oh, I am so going to enjoy breaking you down piece by itty-bitty piece. You’re going to pay for what you did to my brother, vættir bitch.”
“Not now, Ramun Sol.” A woman’s voice carries out to us from inside the hotel room. “Honestly, one would think that you were vættir, the way you continue to pander to this notion of revenge.” The pressure on my back disappears, and I roll over in relief. But the sensation is short-lived. My vision fills with a woman’s smiling face looking down at me. There’s no mistaking who she is. Hera, Queen of the Æthereals.
Despair washes over me. Things just went from bad to impossible.
“Exalted, I didn’t realize that you were going to be in the area.” Ramun Sol’s voice quavers.
“Am I to now coordinate my movements with you, Ramun Sol? Are you my event planner?” Hera’s face disappears. She steps over me like I’m a discarded gum wrapper and approaches Sol. I manage to roll over enough to watch her approach the minor Æthereal. Hera wears tight white pants, white knee-high boots, and an equally white blouse. Her dark hair is pulled up in a high ponytail and hangs down to the middle of her back. She looks like something out of a comic book.
So that’s what a goddess wears to a genocide.
Hera stops a few feet away from Ramun Sol and studies him. “I await your response, Ramun Sol.”
He falls to his knees, his eyes downcast. “No, Exalted. Your movements are none of my concern.”
Hera looks over her shoulder at me. Her too-red lipstick reminds me of blood. “Gather the Nyx and the monster, summon my Acolytes, and meet me at the Point. With her darkness to power the spell, we no longer need to wait. Tonight the vættir will be abolished.”
Hera disappears in a flash of light, and I groan as I try to sit up. Tallon is there, trying to help me to my feet, but I shake him off. He gives me a look before reluctantly letting me go. Yeah, like I want the boy who betrayed me to help me kill myself.
Because I heard what the bitch-goddess said, and there’s no way I’m letting Hera use me to power her spell.
Sol forgets about me long enough to turn to Tallon. “You brought her here.”
Tallon shrugs, his lips twisted up in a smirk. “Yeah, maybe. I did ask you nicely to call her. You should learn about keeping promises. There might be a way around a lot of things, but there’s no way around a promise.”
“A promise kept,” I mutter. I glance up at Tallon. Without looking at me, he taps a couple of times on my damper. My brain is slow, but I’m pretty sure it’s some sort of sign. Especially since he just gave Sol a lecture about promises. Did Tallon plan this whole thing?
I glance down at the damper encircling my arm, and it hits me. The dampers were created by the Æthereals to control vættir. But I’m not just any vættir.
I’m the Nyx. I am a dark goddess made flesh.
And it’s time I started acting like it.
I climb unsteadily to my feet. Ramun Sol looks at me and laughs.
“You really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he sneers. He begins to glow, summoning his solar flare again. I run forward and tackle him around the middle, eyes squeezed shut against the glare of him. We slam into the balcony railing. He groans, and I take the opportunity to shove my hand up under the T-shirt he wears. I call for the darkness, and I’m surprised and relieved when a thin tendril of it comes rushing back. I send it racing along Ramun Sol’s bare skin, and he screams.
“Get her off of me!”
“Tell me what Hera was talking about when she said to take us to the Point,” Tallon says. He sounds bored.
“It’s a park with a fountain. It sits right on the Node where the three rivers come together in Pittsburgh.” Ramun Sol screams again, and I laugh. The wisps of darkness rising off my bare arms are getting thicker. Stronger. And so is the tendril tearing at the Æthereal’s skin.
Elation washes over me. My shadows are back.
Ramun Sol sees them the same time I do. “No. No, it can’t be. The damper—”
“Those dampers were designed for the average vættir, offspring of minor Æthereals like you. Do you really think something like that would work on Hades’s daughter?”
Ramun Sol looks at me and shakes his head. “No. No, it can’t be. You’ll destroy us all.”
I can’t help it. I smile. “No, just you.” I lean close so that only he can hear my next words. “I hope this hurts. A lot.”
I clamp my hands around his throat, and I think about Cass, the way she looked as he took her life. The darkness swells forth, shadows gobbling up the light and leaving us in deepest night. Around us the lights explode, swaddling the hotel in complete darkness. It’s only when shadows remain that the dark actually attacks Ramun Sol.
His screams are loud enough to shatter the windows.
The darknes
s clutches at the brightness of him, devouring it and growing stronger. I can sense that it wants more; it wants freedom to hunt like it did before. Part of me wants to give it that freedom, send it out into the world to hunt the Acolytes. But that won’t help me stop Hera, and it won’t free Whisper and Cass’s shades.
“Not yet,” I whisper to the erebos, soothing it like a pet. The darkness seems to like that. It curls around me, healing the last of my injuries before settling back into the markings on my skin. “Soon.”
I blink, and the world slowly comes back into focus. Tallon is hauling me up from where I’ve slumped onto the balcony. “Come on, we need to get going. Hera is expecting us.”
“How’d you know the damper wouldn’t work?” I ask.
“Someone tried to damper me, once. It didn’t go so well.”
I open my mouth to ask him more, but he cuts me off. “We have to find Alora and Blue and get out of here.”
I let Tallon pull me from the balcony and into the room. His grip is firm on my upper arm, his fingers warm. A chill sweeps over me as he reaches down and snags my backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. But then his touch is back, and we’re out of the dark room and into the hallway, which is dimly lit by the emergency lamps on the wall. Blue and Alora stand near the stairway, their faces worried.
“What’s going on?” Blue asks.
Tallon shrugs. “Just tying up some loose ends. I’ll fill you guys in on the way.”
“Way where?” Alora asks, looking mussed and a little put out.
“We found out where Hera’s taking the shades. We have to get going, though. We don’t have much time.” He steers me toward the stairs, and I push him away.
“I can walk,” I say. I’m unsteady, but I’m still the first one to the stairs. I pause and turn around, looking over my shoulder at everyone. “What?”
“Where are we going?” Alora asks, tugging at her hair.
I lean against the doorframe. My head is dizzy, like I just got off a carnival ride. I take the ruined damper off my arm and drop it on the floor. “We’re going to stop Hera,” I answer, even though that isn’t what Alora meant. I take a deep breath, and to myself I say, “I’ve got a promise to keep.”
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