by Lizzy Ford
“I know, Kris.”
“You’re better off without him. That may be the only good thing that comes of returning you to the mortal world.”
She looked up at him, anger heating her blood again. She’d never understand how Kris could treat his own half-brother as he did. Rhyn was all she would take away from the twisted Immortal world.
“Go inside. Ully’s waiting for you in the lab.”
“I’m nothing but a means to an end to you,” she muttered. “So tired of all this.” At least I have Rhyn.
She didn’t wait for Kris’s response but trotted inside.
Rhyn lopped the head off the last demon and wiped his knife again. He’d fed on the first one and was full but not satisfied. No blood could sate him as his mate’s could, and he hadn’t tasted her in weeks. Gabriel said she needed space. Kris said she needed anyone but him in her life. She had no idea what he wanted. For once, Rhyn was the only one who made any sense. His blood still raged from their kiss. If not for the demons’ interruption, he and Katie would be doing a different kind of mud wrestling.
He growled, irritated as much by demons as he was with the cold weather. Snow fell in lazy, fat flakes, sticking to his clothes and hair. He swiped at the flakes then braced himself to change into his jaguar shape. Hot pain slid through him as his body contorted into the new form. He released a sigh when he’d transformed and shook snowflakes from his thick coat. He loped along the trail through the forest and trotted into the park around the castle, where the person he least wanted to see awaited him with a glower and crossed arms.
“You had somewhere to be half an hour ago,” Kris said.
His tone reminded Rhyn that coming here had been Katie’s idea and no one else’s. He’d come to keep an eye on her and, allegedly, to help his brothers on the Council, though not even he believed he had a decent bone in his body.
“I thought it important for you to see our father’s crypt,” Kris continued. “He’s been interred here since he became dead-dead at the hands of your demon-mother.”
Kris waited for him to change forms. Rhyn breezed by him, much warmer in his jaguar shape than he’d been in his human shape.
Hell was a bitch, but at least it was warm, he thought darkly.
Kris strode past him and led him through the castle’s ground floor, whose wide, carpeted halls felt nice on his paws. The massive halls were chilly, with ugly stone walls and wooden beams far above. Kris’s décor was similar to his ever-changing eyes: jewel-toned drapes, pillows, and tapestries, edged with gold.
Several people stopped to stare or skirt them as Rhyn padded through, and one startled gasp drew his attention briefly to a stairwell. A child-angel— the first he’d seen in hundreds of years— gazed at him with large brown eyes before darting up the stairs. He wondered what poor fool was stuck babysitting the high-maintenance angel as he followed Kris.
“I’d prefer you didn’t act like such an ass around here,” Kris muttered as one of the servants dropped a tray of dishes at the sight of the massive cat.
Rhyn stayed in his form until they reached a narrow, winding set of stairs. He changed shape before descending behind Kris. They walked down and through an unused part of the dungeons. Their path dead-ended at a large wooden door. Kris produced a key chain from his pocket and unlocked the five locks before pulling the heavy door open.
“You afraid Pop’s gonna escape?” Rhyn asked, amused by the security.
“The magic lingering in our father’s blood renders the ground here sacred. I’ve sealed off the crypt with magic to keep Immortals from entering through the shadow world, and installed locks for those who wander where they shouldn’t be,” Kris said.
“We should just toss him in the deepest hole in Hell.”
“I don’t expect you to understand what it is to care about someone else.”
Rhyn said nothing. His brother had no idea the depth of emotion even a half-demon could feel. When he’d looked into Katie’s eyes and dared her to admit she didn’t love him, he’d seen everything he needed to know. He didn’t feel like the half-demon bastard he was when he was with her.
“Pay your respects, brother, while I allow it,” Kris said, and pushed the door open. The chamber beyond was dark, lit by the soft glow of a single torch beside a clear sarcophagus. Rhyn’s eyes lingered on the body on the altar before he took in the seven statues of descending size surrounding the altar.
Kris lit another torch to shed light on the murals on the floor. There was one beneath each statue representing a continent. The largest statue was Andre, their eldest brother who had recently become dead-dead, standing over Europe. Kris was next in size, standing on a mural of North America.
The smallest statue was Rhyn as a child of five or six, standing on Antarctica. He circled his statue, barely recalling his life growing up. Each of the Council That Was Seven was represented, dutifully overlooking their father’s corpse. Rhyn faced the sarcophagus, surprised to see his father looked as he had when he last saw him thousands of years before. Their father had Andre’s dark skin, and his hair was grey at the temples. His features were most like Rhyn’s: heavy and roughly hewn, while his body was lean like Kris’s.
“This might interest you more,” Kris said in a cold voice.
Rhyn bristled and turned. Kris lit another torch to display a darkened case on the wall. Rhyn’s fists clenched as he took in the beheaded, dismembered body hung for spite on the wall.
“My father’s killer,” Kris said, taking in the demoness’s body.
“You kill my mother,” Rhyn snarled. “Yet you’ve never come after me.”
“Andre killed your mother and kept me from destroying you as I should have,” Kris replied. “You’re a cancer on everyone around you. Andre was too kind to kill you. Even Katie is better off without you.”
Rhyn heard without listening, instead taking in the tortured features of his mother’s face. He’d gone from being tormented by his own mother to the affection of an abusive father who regretted ever having him. What small maternal instincts a demon could have had led her to destroy the man who took her son; then she in turn was killed by Andre.
Andre had taken Rhyn in when he was five and he fled his bullying brothers when he was ten. Andre, however, unanimously approved Rhyn’s petition to be recognized as a son of their father when he was old enough, despite his brothers’ objections.
“They both deserve what they got,” Rhyn said. “Andre alone has ever shown me any kindness.”
“And look where that got us all. If he’d killed you, he’d be alive and Katie would be safe.”
“Safe?” Rhyn echoed. “You’d force her to become your mate.”
“I wouldn’t force a human to do anything.”
“But you’d hold her down and take her blood.” Rhyn’s voice lowered dangerously and he faced his brother. Kris fell silent. “Did you think I didn’t know?”
“She told you.”
“She didn’t have to.”
“I didn’t intend for it to happen,” Kris said.
“You’re no better than Sasha,” Rhyn said.
“And she’s better off with you? You have nothing to offer her.”
Rhyn faced his mother again. The words were too familiar. Katie had said the same. He hadn’t even been able to keep her safe when they were together, and he had nothing— not even a home— to give her.
“Don’t destroy anything while you’re here,” Kris said and left.
Rhyn ignored him, turning from the mother who’d never wanted him to the father who’d wanted him dead-dead. He’d had one friend in his life, Gabriel, and his mate, a woman tough in spirit but vulnerable in flesh. He didn’t belong here with Kris’s kind, yet she was safe. People around him had a way of dying horribly, and he wasn’t entirely sure what to do about it, now that it mattered. He wished Andre had stuck around a little longer, so he could’ve asked him what to do.
He sensed the entrance of another before his companion spoke.
“She looks like the Council, dismembered beyond recognition.”
Rhyn snorted and faced Sasha, the brother charged with governing Australia, and the first to abandon the Council in favor of serving the Dark One. Sasha was lean and pale, his gaze turquoise.
“You’re not surprised to see me,” Sasha surmised.
“If Kris let me in, he’d let anyone in,” Rhyn replied.
“Miss Hell, brother?”
“Warmer than this place.”
Sasha chuckled, his gaze taking in the sarcophagus. He neared it with a small frown. Rhyn stayed where he was, wary yet unafraid of Sasha, who’d been the zookeeper among the animals with him in Hell.
“I wonder if he were still alive if things would be the same,” Sasha mused, his eyes on their father.
“I’m glad the asshole’s gone,” Rhyn said.
“I suppose.”
“What’re you doing here, Sasha?”
“I’m here to see Kris, of all people.”
“You can’t manipulate him like you do everyone else,” Rhyn said, well aware of his brother’s ability to twist the minds of others.
“No? Wanna bet?”
“People like us don’t pay up.”
“True. We are more alike than the others. How’s your little human treat?”
Rhyn eyed him. Sasha gave a faint smile.
“I’m not here for her,” he said. “Wouldn’t you like to have Kris out of the way, so you and your human treat can live in peace somewhere?”
“I wouldn’t trust anything you offered.”
“Very well, then, how about we make a deal for you to come back with me as my personal bodyguard, and I’ll make sure she’s safe and happy the rest of her life? I learned in Hell how you can un-mate her. She’d be better off without you, Rhyn.”
She’d be better off without you. He’d heard these words more than once over the past few days and couldn’t help the small part of him that agreed. The rest of him didn’t give a shit what anyone said: Katie was his.
“You know Kris’ll kill her when he’s done with her. One human is nothing to him in his version of the big picture,” Sasha continued. “Not sure which of us is more twisted.”
“Fuck off, Sasha. You did me no favors in Hell, and you’ll do me no favors here.”
“Think about it. I’m off to see Kris.”
Rhyn watched him go, wondering just what his brother was planning, and how he’d figure it out before Katie was hung on the wall next to his mother. Agitated and chilled by the chamber, he transformed into his jaguar form to terrorize more Immortals on his way to hunt the demons in the forest.
*
From the shadows of the crypt, Gabriel waited until the half-brothers were gone to dump the contents of the velvet dice pouch into his palm. Two small green gems— holding the dust of human souls— glittered in the torchlight of the dead-dead Immortal’s chamber. Kris had given them to him weeks ago as payment for two assassinations. Wanting to give his friend, Rhyn, a moment of peace with his dead-dead parents, he waited until Rhyn was gone before withdrawing from the shadows.
“He looks so un-dead-dead,” Death said, a rare trace of interest in her sweet voice.
Gabriel put the gems away and looked up to see her slight frame standing beside the sarcophagus. Her white hair and snowy skin glowed in the dim chamber.
“I wondered where you’d been going,” she said.
“You always know where I’m going,” he replied. “You can read my mind.”
“You come here a lot.”
“I do.”
She turned and raised an eyebrow at him, her rainbow eyes flashing with every color between white and black. “I want to hear you say why,” she ordered.
“To see my friend and protect his mate.”
“You’re not independent anymore, Gabriel. I own you now,” she reminded him. “The other assassins go nowhere without my permission.”
“You know where to find me when you need me,” he said.
“You can’t influence destiny, Gabe,” she said. “You shouldn’t be here at all.”
“I have one friend in the universe. There’s nothing wrong with— ”
“You sacrificed your immortal soul for him. You’ve done enough.”
He clamped his jaw shut.
“And he’s still not doing what he should be,” she continued. “I think you wasted your freedom. Poor choice, but you were a human once. Maybe your human compassion led you astray.”
“I thought you appreciated my human perspective.”
“I did. But I think you’ve become a liability to me, Gabriel.”
He’d heard the speech before, though this time, it was different. Three weeks ago, he’d bargained his soul in exchange for her taking Rhyn off her list of those to be made dead-dead. In all the years he’d served her, she’d never owned him until three weeks ago. He still didn’t doubt his friend or his decision, but he was the only one.
“I’ll stay away,” he said. “If it pleases you.”
“Stay today, Gabriel, but know that the next time you return, you will take the lives of two of them,” she said. “Kris paid for Katie’s death and the death of another, whose name he did not mention, but I will.”
Heaviness settled into the pit of his stomach. He wondered if Death would’ve been more lenient if he stayed home with her and played nice instead of spending half his day in the mortal world.
It was too late for him to know.
“Who else would you have me take?” he asked in a monotone. Death smiled, and when she spoke, he looked away. “You would ask this?”
“You’re lucky this is all I ask. Normally, when an assassin goes soft, I make him dead-dead. You’ve been my lover for ages, and I am doing you a favor.”
“Next you’ll say you’ve kicked me out of your bed.”
She said nothing, and he met her gaze once more, genuinely surprised.
“I guess you no longer interest me, since you’re just another of my slaves. You’re no longer exciting and different to me,” she said with a shrug. “I am sorry for this of all things, Gabriel. You are still my top assassin, assuming you don’t fail in your executions.”
“I wonder why you agreed to my deal, if it rendered me boring!” he snapped.
“Everything comes at a cost, Gabriel, which you know. I broke Immortal Code to grant your favor of not killing Rhyn. You had to pay the price for it, and so did I.”
Her words did nothing to quell the anger boiling within him. It’d been too long since he’d felt such strong emotion, and it caught him off guard. At his silence, Death went on.
“Today’s your last day here. Next time, you make them dead-dead.”
“I understand, mistress.”
“Very well.”
At his tone, she softened. “Gabriel, you know there are things I cannot tell you. You must understand there is a reason behind what I ask of you that will not become clear for some time. Trust me. This is the only way.”
“As you wish, mistress.”
She left him alone in the dark with his thoughts, and he began to understand more how his friend Rhyn felt in a world that was pitted against him. He’d expected things to change once he pledged his soul to Death, but he hadn’t expected anything so drastic, so soon. He clenched the pouch with its gems.
Instead of going to see the Immortal leader, Gabriel crossed through the shadow world, squinting as he emerged into the bright midmorning sunlight. He put on his sunglasses, which did little to alleviate the headache sunlight gave him. The lush Scottish Highlands around him were covered in a blanket of snow that stretched for miles, the white world interrupted only by a few narrow roads snaking in different directions.
It was rarely sunny in this part of the world, and he chalked the irritation up to his sudden plunge in luck. He breathed in deeply of the scent of snow. The chances of him ever returning were slim to none. He was early this year, but he’d rather visit now than risk he’d be grounded during winter
solstice in a month.
He’d miss the smell and sight of his homeland and yearned already to stay here rather than return to his dark corner of the Immortal underworld! He began to think Death was right— he was going soft. Before he gave his Immortal soul to death, he’d never noticed how sweet the air was or how the grass sang as the wind whipped through it. He missed the smells and sounds in winter.
He walked a familiar path to a graveyard so old, not even legends remained about its location or the importance of those buried there. A stone cottage up the road was the only sign of inhabitation, and a herd of sheep raised their heads as he neared. He ignored them and went to a place only he knew, stopping when he was atop the graves he sought.
“Mother, Father,” he said quietly, “I may not be able to come back again.”
He never expected his long dead parents to respond but waited anyway. When only the winter wind greeted him, he continued.
“Father, I did as you told me not to do long ago. I gave Death my Immortal soul. It was for a worthy cause, and I don’t regret what I’ve done,” he said.
His gaze lifted, and he recalled vividly the last time he’d seen his parents in this very spot, when they were cut down by bloodthirsty demons during the only period in Immortal history when demons attacked humans. They’d been led by the demon leader Darkyn, whom the Dark One had punished when Death discovered what the demons had done. He didn’t know what happened to Darkyn, but Death adopted him, raised him, and trained him to be the most ruthless of all assassins.
Rhyn had become like a brother to him, and the idea of killing his mate reopened wounds that hadn’t bled since he stood in this place thousands of years before. He tried not to think of that sad time, instead blinking away dark memories and focusing on the snow at his feet.
“I’ll come back whenever I’m allowed,” he said with resignation. He gazed around once more and then turned and walked away, back into the shadow world.
*
Still in her jogging clothes, Katie made her way to the super-lab on one of the castle’s upper floors. She knocked and waited.