“We need to go check on Aery,” Persephone whispered in my ear. “I do not like that we abandoned her there. If others come in our absence…”
“Aery?” Kierson asked with surprise. “Aery’s here? She’s hurt?”
“She will be all right,” I told him, uncertain whether that was the truth. Kierson cared for the nymph, and I did not wish to hurt him with the news of what had happened to her—not until I knew her fate.
“We’ll go now,” Oz said, pulling me away.
“What of them?” I asked, yanking free of his grasp.
“We’re fine,” Kierson said. “Just go. We’ll meet you there. But make sure the place is secure before you walk into another trap!”
“I’ve got this,” Oz yelled back before kicking open a door and stomping through. He took to the air and waited for me to join him. The hazy grey clouds and night sky gave us cover on the journey home. Within minutes, we arrived at the same scene we had earlier: an eerily quiet Victorian.
“Aery!” I called, rushing to the basement door. Oz’s hand clamped down on mine as I reached to open it.
“Me first this time,” he said, nudging me aside. Blade drawn, he descended the stairs to where we had left Aery unconscious on my bed.
As I followed him down, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and answered just as Oz turned on the light to reveal a disturbing sight.
“Pierson,” I said, my voice hollow as I looked at the empty bed before me.
“My vision,” he said, sounding not at all himself. “It was of a dirt-covered, frail-looking winged female—”
“That’s Aery—”
“She is in trouble,” he continued.
I looked to Oz, who crowded my space, and found anger and concern etched in his features.
“Tell me everything you saw,” I said, heading up the stairs. “We must find her.”
15
“I don’t understand how she did it,” Pierson said, sounding confused, a foreign feeling for him, no doubt. “She could barely walk. She wasn’t dying—not yet, anyway—but something was clearly wrong with her—”
“Deimos tried to kill her slowly,” I explained. “We found her half dead.”
“I saw her walking through Detroit, her body dirty and frail…she barely looked capable of moving, and yet she just kept walking as if drawn to something…entranced somehow.”
“Where was she?” Oz asked over my shoulder as we stepped outside.
“She hadn’t gotten far from the house. She was headed east. That’s all I saw before her silent screams started and the vision went black.”
“What would possess her to leave?” I asked, the question aimed at no one specifically.
“Who might be the better question,” Oz growled, “and I have a feeling I know the answer.” He grabbed the phone from me and put it to his ear. “Tell us if anything changes,” he said before hanging up on Pierson and shoving the phone back into my pocket.
“What is happening?” I asked. Oz ignored my question, searching the area for a threat I could not see.
“My guess? Deimos’ brother. The name we don’t say aloud is happening.”
“But why go after Aery? How could he even know she is above?”
“All excellent questions, new girl. Maybe we should drag your second-string boyfriend up here and ask him. It’s his brother we’re about to go after.”
“Deimos told me he could not stop his brother,” I said, doing all I could not to think about the implications for Aery if Phobos had indeed caught her.
“Then let’s hope we can find Aery before he gets his hands on her, because I’m not about to deliver you to him, that’s for damn sure. If it’s a choice between you and the nymph, she will lose every time.”
“We shall see about that.”
I started running east, following the path Pierson had said she’d taken. With so little information to go on, it was difficult to gauge our progress, but we ran anyway. At least it was something—a chance of saving her.
“What do you know of Pho—”
“Don’t say it!” Oz shouted, cutting me off. “Do not say his name.”
“What do you know of Deimos’ brother, then?” I asked Oz just as we came to a dead end. Left or right—a decision that carried more weight than it should have.
“Not enough,” was Oz’s only reply before the answer we sought availed itself in the shape of a gargoyle flying toward us.
“Azriel,” I said. A spark of hope ignited in my chest.
“You mussst hurry,” he hissed. No further explanation was given.
“You know where Aery is?” I asked.
“Sssshe is sssafe for now, but the Dragon cannot hold her forever. Hisss grip on her isss deep. The nymph will die if it isss not broken.”
“Whose grip?” I asked.
The gargoyle looked at me with fear in his eyes and shook his head. “I will not ssspeak hisss name.”
Phobos…
“Take us there now,” Oz said, stepping toward the gargoyle.
The stony creature took flight, with us close behind. Fog seemed to roll in around us, shrouding us from sight. I could scarcely make out my surroundings and navigate them without injury. The way Azriel soared ahead of us, totally unencumbered by the haze, I wondered if this was how he had hidden when the others thought him dead; if it was how he lived now, cloaked in mist and shadow.
“Where are we going?” I shouted. “We need to tell the others.”
“Sssaint Agnesss Ssschool,” the gargoyle replied.
“Because once in an hours’ time isn’t enough?” Oz grumbled. “What is it with Catholicism and supernaturals? They’re like moths to flame when they see holy water and a cross.”
I quickly called Pierson and told him where we were headed. He informed me that they were not far away and would be there soon.
“So the Dragon is holding her there?” Oz asked, an edge to his voice that did not go unnoticed even in the rush of wind. He looked back at me. “If Casey and Kierson get there before we do—”
“They will kill first and ask questions after,” I said, finishing his thought. He was right, too, which gave me little comfort. We needed answers, not a pile of bodies. We had already amassed one of those at the factory.
Oz pressed the pace, flying past Azriel and out of his shield of mist. A minutes later, we arrived in the tight corridor next to the decrepit Catholic church-turned-school. The ruckus inside could be heard well into the streets.
“Keep watch,” I said to Azriel as I ran toward the entrance. I broke through the side door and followed the sounds of a fight echoing through the halls. When I found it, I was thankful we had arrived in time.
Oz already had Casey pinned to the wall, a blade at his throat as he struggled to calm my dark brother down. The Dragon was staring down the length of Kierson’s sword, my sweet brother looking more like Casey by the second. Hades and Persephone stood on the far side of the room, staring at Drew and Pierson, who held Aery tight as she fought to escape. Her eyes were wide and empty, her temperament feral.
Possessed was a fair assessment upon first glance.
“I will ask you one more time, Dragon,” Kierson growled, his voice devoid of its normal tone. His calm façade was unnerving to see—he looked not at all himself. His feelings for the nymph obviously ran deeper than I could have imagined. The Dragon was in grave danger. “What did you do to her?”
“I didn’t do anything,” the Dragon said through gritted teeth. Then his eyes fell upon me, and his anger gave way to fear.
“Azriel said you were holding her,” I said, putting myself between Kierson and his would-be victim. “Holding her for whom?”
His reptilian eyes narrowed. “For you. For the PC.”
“Why would you do this?”
“Because Azriel told me that she had arrived at the house with you—that he recognized her as your ally.”
“So you’ve got your spy watching us?” Kierson asked, pressing the
point of his blade to the Dragon’s throat.
“He is not my spy,” the Dragon growled, “but he knows that I have a vested interest in the PC, so he brought me that information. And when I saw the nymph wandering the streets, totally entranced, I knew what was happening. I grabbed her and brought her to the PC safehouse.” His beseeching eyes turned to me. “Where Casey and I used to meet…I was trying to help. To make amends…”
“Amends for what?” Casey shouted from across the room.
Sadness flashed in those inhuman eyes as he turned them to Casey. “For the one I could not help before.”
Confusion marred Casey’s expression. The Dragon’s gaze fell to where Pierson and Drew struggled against the petite nymph. It took a moment to realize who those sad eyes were for, but once I did, the pieces of the puzzle slowly began to fall into place.
“Drew… you speak of Drew,” I said. Everyone but Aery went still at my words. The Dragon merely nodded. “You were there when he died.” Another nod. “You know who struck him down…”
“I was, and I do.”
Kierson let loose his mournful wail and lunged forward. The Dragon retreated, the tip of the blade still at his throat, and I grabbed Kierson, pulling him back.
“Not yet,” I said in his ear, hoping to calm him. “It is not time yet.”
I held him in my arms as he breathed hard and wild, his anger and sadness warring within him. He loved Drew. He had mourned his death—not once, but twice, in a fashion. His elation at Drew’s reappearance had been cut short when the cost of his rebirth was revealed. Though none of my brothers would admit it aloud, waking every day to the new version of Drew was like reopening a festering wound. That pain would never end. That wound would never heal.
The Dragon would have to pay for his involvement, but not until I knew every detail of what had happened to my lost brother.
“I suggest you start explaining,” I said, my voice teeming with warning. “I cannot hold them all back forever.”
The Dragon steadied himself, then began. “I had returned to Detroit that night, having been to my birthplace to fix something that had been taken from me.” He glanced at Casey, still held back by Oz.
“Your firebox,” I said.
He nodded. “I had come to settle things with Casey, but instead, I happened upon his brother, embattled with one he could never beat. One I had thought no longer existed.”
“Pho—”
“NO!” the Dragon shouted. The fear in his eyes at the thought of summoning Phobos gave me pause. “I saw Drew prepare to slay him, only to watch him drop his blade and walk toward his enemy as though his will were no longer his own. As if he were a puppet on a string. A dog on a leash.” We all turned to where my brothers fought to keep Aery still. “So you see, I immediately recognized that thrall in her when she was walking through the city. I knew to whom she was headed, and I knew she was important to you…”
“You let that fucker cut Drew down and did nothing?” Casey seethed.
“No,” he replied, looking over his shoulder. “I did try, but the second I moved, a hand fell upon my shoulder and terror like I’d never felt in my long life ripped through my body.”
“Deimos was there.” My words were not a question, but fact. “He stopped you.”
I dared a glance at my father, but his countenance gave nothing away.
The Dragon kept his eyes pinned on Casey, silently beseeching him. But there was no mercy to be found from my dark brother. No mercy at all. He whipped a blade from his waistband and threw it with lightning speed, burying it in the Dragon’s neck.
“Fucking coward!” he roared, bucking against Oz’s hold.
“I had no choice!” the Dragon yelled back, yanking the blade from his scaly skin. He headed toward Casey, frustration and anger seeping from him. With flap of my wings, I flew over his head, landing in his path.
“Take another step and perish, Dragon. You should know I am not bluffing.”
“You don’t understand!” he said, frustration in his tone. “Deimos was crazed—totally unhinged—rambling about a girl who fits your description, saying he had to get back to her before his brother found her. I think that’s why he didn’t kill me. He wasn’t thinking right at all.”
“You should have come to us,” Pierson admonished. “We should have been informed.”
“That’s what you’re not getting about this—I couldn’t tell you.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because,” he said with a harsh exhale, “he said if any of the PC ever found out, he would kill Casey. Torture him for years before finally ending him.” The Dragon looked past me to his former lover and explained, “I couldn’t let that happen… you must know why. And Drew was already dead. I saw no point in having you meet the same fate.”
“Where did he go after that?” I asked, drawing his attention.
“He muttered something about the gargoyles, then left. That was it, I swear.”
“Deimos used your gargoyles against us before your return,” I said. “They were all too eager to help him succeed at his endeavor.”
The Dragon’s eyes narrowed. “And what was that?”
“To turn me Dark.”
Again, Hades said nothing—didn’t flinch—at my words.
The Dragon looked at my black wings and frowned. “Looks like he succeeded.”
“No, he did not. And his brother will not either, if I have any say in the matter. But for now, we need to help Aery. How do we break this thrall she is under?”
The Dragon shook his head. “I was hoping he’d know,” he said, pointing to Drew.
“Yes, well, his fucking brain is fried now, thanks to you letting him die,” Casey snarled. “So no dice there.”
“Her mind seems connected to mine somehow,” Pierson mused. “Perhaps I can hack into this magic and pull her free.” He stared at her for a moment, then called his twin over. “Kierson, I need you to hold her. You care for her—perhaps that will be to our advantage.”
Kierson did as asked and rushed to Aery, crushing her in his arms. While the twins worked in silence with Drew hovering nearby, the rest of us looked on, helpless. The sound of a cell phone blaring was a welcome break in the silence in the eerie church.
“Where the fuck are you?” Casey shouted into the phone. “Get to the St. Agnes School on Rosa Parks Boulevard now. We’ve got a problem.” He hung up without another word. “Fucking Muses….”
“Will he be of any use?” I asked, uncertainty thick in my tone.
“It can’t hurt to have him here,” Casey said, though he looked equally unconvinced. “Worst case, he can pull what happened from her mind. Hopefully that will be of use to us in case…”
His words trailed off, and I waited a moment for him to finish. Then the weight of them finally registered. I followed his gaze to where Pierson stood beside his twin, the two of them doing all they could to pull the nymph from her dark place—from where Phobos held her mind captive.
The sound of a door slamming jarred me from my thoughts. Everyone in the room wheeled on their feet, weapons drawn, ready to kill whoever dared to come for us—again. Muses appeared just as Casey let loose a blade. It flew at his head, and he managed to bat it away just before it embedded in his face.
Muses’ angry expression quickly dissipated when he took in our collective state, blood-covered and weary. He knew something was amiss.
“I was told there was a problem,” he said, surveying the room, holding a white plastic bag in his hand.
“Deimos’ not-so-dead-or-missing brother has returned, and he’s hijacked Khara’s little friend from the Underworld’s mind,” Casey said, rushing toward Muses.
Muses looked over to the twins and Aery, then back to Casey. “I leave to find some decent food in this city and this is what I miss?”
“No,” Oz said, expression smug as ever, “you also missed the war we just had with a few formerly dead gods and their mini army.”
“And the h
ideous lisping creature in the alley?” Muses asked. “What of him?”
“That is Azriel,” I said plainly. “He is Casey’s informant. He alerted us to Aery’s whereabouts.”
“Aery?”
“The entranced Underworld nymph.”
He looked over at the Dragon. “And who is—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.”
“I am getting nowhere with this,” Pierson said, frustration in his voice and expression. “Whatever connection she tapped into to show me the vision, I cannot access it.”
“We can’t just fucking leave her like this!” Kierson shouted. “She’s half dead as it is. If we can’t break this thrall, she’ll never get better. She’ll waste away trying to get to him.”
“Let me try,” Muses said, handing Casey his plastic bag full of food. He sauntered over to Aery without an ounce of urgency and took her face in his hands. Her dull eyes looked right through him, focused on everything and nothing at once. “Interesting…”
“What?” Kierson asked. He paced as though he could outrun his agitation. Whether it was with the scenario as a whole or the leer in Muses’ eyes as he looked over Aery, I could not be certain. Perhaps a bit of both.
“It’s as if her brain is stuck on a specific frequency—one that cannot be interrupted by anything of this world.”
“In English, Muses!” Kierson growled, his pace quickening.
“Simply put, it is as though she isn’t processing any external information—like her brain is jammed, and all she hears is whatever he is saying or doing. I don’t fully understand what magic is at play here.”
“So she’s fucked?” Kierson asked.
Muses’ smile widened. “Now, now, ye of little faith. Give me some credit.” Kierson rushed to Aery’s side while Muses explained. “If I can interrupt his signal somehow, we should be able to pull her from this trance.”
“But what if he just puts her back into it?” Casey asked, wandering over for a better vantage point.
“If he does, then I suppose we keep repeating the process until he gives up.”
“Or comes looking for her.” The Dragon’s observation was unappreciated.
Unspoken (Unborn Book 3) Page 12