by J. C. Wilder
“I have to admit that I’m very curious about this,” Mortianna continued in a musing tone. “I wonder how many times an immortal can die before the soul gives up, and they don’t rise anymore. I suppose this could be an experiment of sorts.”
Gabrielle laughed, and Maeve shot her a dark look.
“It was so lovely meeting you,” the vampire cooed. “It’s too bad you couldn’t stay longer.”
Mortianna beckoned the vampire closer. “Shall we see how deep the pit is?”
“No, thanks.” Gabrielle gulped then stepped away from the ledge. If possible, the vampire was paler than before.
Mortianna dropped the torch into the pit. It grew smaller and more indistinct before finally it vanished, swallowed by the suffocating darkness.
Immortal or not, would she survive the fall?
“Ah, before you go—I have a special gift for you.” Mortianna released her grip on her neck. “Never let it be said that I’m not a woman of principal.” Her grin was mocking, and she laid her hands on either side of Maeve’s head just above her ears. Her vision dimmed.
“A little something to keep you company in the darkness.” The witch’s voice was barely a whisper. “Uile fois… the gift of knowledge…”
A sharp pain tore through her skull, and Maeve screamed. She no longer felt her body as shards of ice shredded her mind. Millions of images slammed into her consciousness, some familiar and others unknown to her. They were unorganized, jumbled like a kaleidoscope in the hands of a two-year-old.
The pain seemed never-ending as her body and mind were hollowed out, a husk of her mortal self. She barely felt Mortianna release her. She tasted blood and was unable to form a coherent thought as the witch’s gift seized control of her mind, body and soul.
Broken images flipped before her eyes like a slide show on fast forward. Bits of conversation in numerous languages, ones she didn’t even know, filled her ears and somehow she understood what they were saying. She felt the witch beside her, and the cold caress as she kissed her on the cheek.
“Sleep well, my daughter. You will return to me with your loyalties firmly established, and together we will achieve greatness.” Mortianna’s voice drifted through her mind. “Your destiny awaits you.” A gentle hand brushed the small of her back, just enough to tip her into the unfathomable darkness.
Chapter Eleven
“You realize we’re willing to die rather than turn Sinjin over to that madwoman?” Val’s eyes fairly smoked with displeasure.
Shai shot Quinn a look that pleaded for understanding while she tugged her lover’s sleeve. “That’s his mother,” she hissed.
“Something he should’ve told us earlier. The woman is fucking insane.” Val shook off her hand then stalked away.
Silently, Quinn acknowledged the truth of his statement. As a child, he’d yearned to have a relationship with Mortianna though now he realized what the cost would be. Even so, there was a part of him that still craved her acknowledgement.
His upbringing had been idyllic and with Emme he had the perfect mother. She’d been the one to hold him when he was sick, bandage his injuries and kick him in the backside when he’d needed it. He’d never lacked for a loving mother figure as he’d received exactly what he needed from his stepmother.
The irony was that all this time he’d imagined a hole in his life left that had been created by Mortianna’s absence. Now he realized the foolishness of that belief as the imagined hole was solely his creation, and he had Maeve to thank for giving him the clarity he’d needed.
Her misguided journey to secure what, in her mind, was her redemption had led to the understanding that he wasn’t weakened by his mother’s betrayal. Instead, he’d been strengthened by her rejection. Steel was forged, heated over and over again to create a new, more durable metal than before. People went through the same process with their life experiences shaping and refining them into who they were destined to be.
Now he only hoped he had the chance to thank the woman he loved.
Love.
A sense of wonder expanded through his chest, and he smiled. He loved her. Maeve had a fierce spirit which loved deeply, irrevocably even though she didn’t see it as such. Her humor, her bravery and her willingness to lay everything on the line told the world who she was no matter how hard she tried to hide her soft underbelly.
His smile faded. She was also in a great deal of pain. He doubted she’d had the chance to grieve for the loss of her sister and her life as she’d known it. But rather than letting a horrific event defeat her, she’d risen stronger than before. Chances were Mikhail was foolhardy to the extreme, but he couldn’t help but admire her sheer determination.
Maeve was one hell of a woman.
Quinn looked at Shai. “Mortianna wasn’t a mother to me. My stepmother, Emme, took her place, and she’s the mother of my heart. Until a few days ago, I’d never had any contact with Mortianna.”
“Which was probably a good thing for you.” She snorted. “Crazy old biddy, someone needs to drop a house on her.”
He grinned. This mouthy little vampire reminded him of his youngest sister, Lavender. Both of them were gorgeous, blonde and completely irreverent.
“Truer words have never been spoken.” His smile faded. “Right now I need to know where you stand, Shai. If I’m going to move against Mortianna, I’ll need all the help I can get.”
A devious light entered her eyes and she stepped closer. “What did you have in mind?”
“I need you to gather the troops. We’re going on a little trip.”
“We are?” She clasped her hands to her chest. “I do so love a road trip. Where are we going?”
“Oh no you don’t.” He smiled and shook his head. “That would ruin the surprise.”
“Spoilsport. I can’t guarantee Val will jump in with both feet until he knows what you’re planning. My man is rather cautious.”
“Tell him I’ll explain later. Now move. We don’t have any time to waste.”
The darkness was smothering.
Head throbbing, Maeve leaned against the wall. The cool stone felt heavenly against her abused body, and she closed her eyes. The urge to lie down and go to sleep was strong, but she couldn’t give in. She had no idea how long she’d been in her prison though surely it wasn’t much more than a day or two. She was hungry, and she would sell her soul for a glass of water, but there was none to be had.
Brilliant specks of light flashed against her eyelids as she tried yet again to piece together how she’d ended up here. She’d decided she couldn’t trust her memories because she couldn’t coax them into an order that made any sense. They were disjointed, like loose images in a photo album. Open another page and they slipped through her fingers.
The only bits she knew for sure were she’d gone with the witch willingly, and Mortianna demanded she turn over Sinjin in exchange for the spell she needed. Other than that everything was a blank. One minute she’d been arguing with the witch and the next she was here, in the depths of the earth surrounded by darkness and the overpowering stench of sulfur and decay.
Just how close to hell was she?
Stretching out her leg, her foot connected with yet another bone. It skittered over the uneven floor. The oubliette was scattered with human bones, or at least she thought they were human, and bits of rotted clothing. Every now and then she heard the rattle of shifting bones and the patter of tiny feet in the darkness.
The bitch was wrong. Maeve wasn’t alone after all.
A reluctant smile tugged at her mouth. It seemed Mortianna hadn’t quite gotten her wish after all. Her smile faded. Then again, neither had she. An image of Quinn flashed before her sending a shaft of sorrow straight through her heart.
They’d only been together a few days, but she had so many memories of him. Upon meeting him she’d decided he was a total bastard. Brusque and judgmental, she now realized his rude façade had sheltered a wounded heart. Learning his mother considered him expendable had to be
upsetting, and it was reason enough for his behavior.
If their positions had been reversed there was no way she’d have been half as gracious about taking on this quest.
And once they’d become more comfortable around one another, he’d shown her a different side. He was serious most of the time but when he laughed, it was with such abandon that she couldn’t help but respond in kind. His smile was enough to curl any woman’s toes, and he made a mean peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Who knew men could cook?
And when he was aroused, his eyes turned a darker, stormy blue. Just holding his hand turned her on. The scent of his skin was enough to tip her over the edge. Memories of his hands on her body stole her breath. Until Quinn she’d considered sex a necessary bodily function but with him it had become so much more.
He’d taught her what it was to make love.
“And you betrayed him.” Her voice bounced off the walls and came back to her several times before fading away.
She’d been so focused on revenge that she’d missed what he could’ve given her.
Love.
Compassion.
Acceptance.
The things she so desperately craved and had been sorely lacking in her life. She snorted. Too bad she hadn’t realized that before she’d leapt because it was too late now.
When Quinn refused her request, she hadn’t thought twice about his feelings. She’d been focused on this goal for so long that she barely remembered her life before. It was her single-mindedness that had led to her downfall.
Even Mortianna said that to give her the knowledge would go against thousands of years of tradition. Or course he would refuse. He was an honorable man who took his responsibility seriously. He would no sooner break with his beliefs than she could forgive the man who’d destroyed her life.
Yeah, she’d really fucked up this time.
The truth had been staring her in the face, and she hadn’t seen it until now. He represented everything she’d once held dear to her heart, and she’d been the one to walk away this time.
Maeve curled into a ball on the floor. Sobs shook her body and for once she didn’t try to stop them. Her desire for revenge was a valid emotion in one sense—she’d lost the person dearest to her, so it had been natural for her to want Mikhail to pay for his crimes. Yet, in the limited span of a lifetime, she’d been foolish.
Nothing would bring Rebecca back and in her penance, Maeve allowed her life to become a mockery of who her sister once was. Her years of planning and training, all to bring down a killer, were for naught. Her sister would never have wanted her murder to consume her twin and that was exactly what happened.
When Mikhail destroyed her sister, Maeve allowed him to take her down without a fight. She, too, had died along side her sister, only it had taken eleven years for her to realize it. All this time she’d thought she was being strong and taking charge of her life when, in reality, Mikhail had won. She’d played right into his hands. How utterly stupid could she be?
After a while her tears slowed and she remained on the floor feeling utterly defeated. Was it even possible to feel lower than she was now? Somehow she didn’t think so.
“Get off your lazy ass, Maeve. All is not as it seems.”
Her sister’s voice in her ear startled her yet the timing was impeccable. Forcing herself upright, she began to laugh. She hadn’t been down here very long and already she’d lost her mind. Maybe she was already dead and didn’t have the sense to know it. Was this the other side?
Opening her eyes, she strained to make out something, anything in the inky darkness.
Well, if this was it then there were going to be millions of really pissed of humans. Heaven resembled a thousand-year-old Roman cistern.
“Heaven? Who are you kidding? You could very well be in hell and not know the difference.”
“I don’t believe in hell.”
“Don’t you? Haven’t you looked around your prison? If this isn’t hell then I don’t know what it is.”
A half-sob, half-laugh escaped her. Her hallucinations sounded just like Rebecca. Leave it to her to cut through the bull and get right to the heart of the matter.
Looking around was utterly pointless because it was far too dark to see anything. She’d gone over every filthy inch of this place on her hands and knees to no avail. All she’d found were the bones of those who’d come and gone before her. She would’ve been pleased to find even a crack or crevice, something to indicate there might be a way out other than the one she’d come in but there was none to be had.
“Isn’t there?”
The hairs on her arms prickled. Why did she feel as if she were being watched?
“Because you are?”
“Reb?” Her voice was little more than a croak.
Silence.
Yeah, she was losing it. She released the breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. She was stuck in a pit with human bones and who knew what else, and her sister was speaking to her. A good time for sure.
Taking the hem of her shirt, she scrubbed the remains of her tears off her face. Opening her eyes wide, she blinked several times. Yep, it was still dark.
“Got any more bright ideas?” she muttered.
Leaning her head against the wall, she closed her eyes once more. Exhaustion pulled at her limbs and the urge to lie down was even stronger now. What could a nap hurt? It wasn’t like she had to be anywhere—
“Will you get off your ass?”
Maeve lurched upright. Her heart pounded. That had sounded so real. But it couldn’t be because Rebecca was dead. She had to be hearing things—
“If you didn’t hallucinate after eating the worm in Juarez, do you really think you’d be doing so now?”
Stunned, Maeve leapt to her feet. The only ones who knew about their illicit trip south were her sister and their sorority sister, Glenda Whitney…and she was pretty sure Glenda wouldn’t be hanging out in the pits of hell. It was far too unpleasant for a Whitney heir.
“Reb?”
“Yes?”
Maeve spun around and slammed her head into a rocky overhang. Howling, she clutched her head and sat hard.
“Still graceful I see.”
“Oh shut up,” she snapped. “You were the one who took dance classes. Our parents realized early that I had all the grace of a hippo with four left feet.”
“You’ve got that right.”
A ghostly giggle sent shivers down her spine. This was unreal. The pain from where she’d hit her head subsided to a dull throb. Could this really be her sister? There was only one way to find out.
“If you’re Rebecca then you’ll know the name of the first guy I had a crush on.”
“Well, I thought it was Jack Gayner, but I was wrong. After I crossed over I learned you were hot for my boyfriend, Rob.”
Maeve cringed.
“And yeah, I’m still pissed about it.”
“Get over yourself, Reb. It was sixth grade, and the qualities we looked for in a guy were pretty low.”
“Sounds like good advice to me. Pot, meet kettle.”
“Piss off.”
“You sound like a trucker.”
“Oh yeah, well you sound like my sister…” her voice faded.
“Pretty freaky isn’t it? This would’ve been handy when we wanted to keep our boyfriends in line. The moment they thought of another girl we could’ve popped into their minds and had some serious fun.”
Maeve rolled her eyes. Her sister had always been boy crazy. It would seem even death couldn’t change some things. She frowned. “But how can you be talking to me?”
“I’ve been nattering in your ear for the past eleven years, sis. The difference is now you’re actually hearing me.”
“How? What changed?”
“The witch did it. Do you remember when she touched you and whispered something in old Scots?”
Pain streaked through her head, and she moaned. Even though her eyes were open, images appe
ared as if projected on the wall before her. Gabrielle laughing—the sound bounced through her head, and she winced. Next came the walk to the pit then the witch dropping the torch into the darkness. Finally, on the ledge of the pit, the woman had laid her cold hands on Maeve’s head and then…nothing.
The pain slowly eased, and she gasped for air. “Now I remember.”
“She meant to give you the spell, but she failed. Thanks to a slip of the tongue, she gave you the gift of knowing.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“Among the witches it’s called the Knowledge of the Ages, and we don’t have time for me to explain it now. Right now, you need to get out of this place or all will be lost.”
Maeve staggered to her feet, careful to keep her head low this time. Did Mortianna unknowingly give her the ability to escape this hell? She blinked several times wondering if her eyes were failing her. Suddenly it didn’t seem to be as dark as it did before.
“It was an illusion, Maeve.”
Holding out her hand, she realized she could see the pale outline of her fingers.
“I’ll be damned,” she whispered.
“I think you already have been.”
“Smart ass.”
Holding out her hands, she touched the walls of her tomb. It wasn’t crafted of dark stones, it was rose quartz and it was shiny too. What else had been hidden from her gaze?
Carefully she explored the area with fresh eyes. The walls were still perfectly smooth, but they were laced with streaks of black and white. How could she have missed this?
“Witchcraft, anyone?”
Her heart stopped when she came to a small section of wall that was a different shade from the rest. Was it a trick of the light or could this be the way out?
“Does it matter?”
“Only if it’s Satan’s front door.”
Running her hand over the lighter stone, she realized it was a narrow recess cut into the wall. She stepped into it and as she did so, it expanded to allow her access. Pressing forward, the stone became more translucent before it fell away and she was on the other side. The scent of fresh air sent a jolt of excitement down her spine.