At Death's Door (Deadman's Cross Book 3)

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Nibo took her hand and pulled her forward, then grabbed Agrios by his hauberk. “Remember, don’t look back.”

  They headed out.

  It wasn’t until they were halfway out that Valynda began to understand all the warnings. All around them were the voices of their past. Their loved ones, calling out for them to join them. Insulting them.

  Worse, asking for forgiveness.

  Pain ripped her apart as she heard her mother’s voice for the first time since her death.

  “Valynda! I love you. Where are you, my daughter?”

  She choked as tears filled her eyes. She wanted to go to her mother in ways she couldn’t even begin to explain. But she knew better. As much as she loved her mother, had always wanted her mother to love and approve of her—to praise her—they’d never had that kind of relationship.

  Her mother had forever disappointed her. And that burned rawest in the deepest part of her soul. She’d never once put Valynda first, and that had hurt most of all. Valynda had spent her entire life craving that maternal instinct. Wanting, praying that her mother would find some shred of humanity that caused her to reach out and make sure that she was safe against the world.

  It’d never come.

  Harden yourself.

  But it was so difficult. Because deep inside, she was still that little girl who craved her mother’s love and approval. Who wanted to see a smile on her mother’s face as she wrapped her arms around her and told her how much she meant to her.

  “Valynda! Come to me, child!”

  It’s not real.

  Sadly, it could never be real, and had never been. It was only a sick fantasy that she’d tortured herself with when she was young. An image she’d seen from others.

  It’s not for the likes of you.

  Maybe no one had ever really had it.

  That was what made her cling all the more to Nibo. He’d been there when no one else had. He had held her when she cried. When her parents had ignored her, he had been there to wipe the tears away. When she needed something, he didn’t ask why. He merely gave. Like now.

  He was here to ensure that she would maintain her body. No matter what, and he asked nothing in return.

  She would never forget that. When everyone else had abandoned her, even her own parents, he had stood by her and protected her.

  Yet you sold him out to the Malachai.

  Guilt stabbed her heart. How could she have lost sight of what she’d had with him? Of all he’d done for her?

  Like this? He hadn’t hesitated to walk into hell to help her. How few people would do such a thing?

  I’ve been such a fool.

  He was her strength. The better part of her world. And I will never forget it again.

  Never again would she let anyone in her head to turn her thoughts from him or make her doubt his motives or intentions. Not when his actions spoke so loudly.

  People were poison. They sought to destroy what they were jealous of. What they wanted to possess, especially when they didn’t have it. It was what had led her to this.

  What had made her girlfriends try to come between her and Nibo.

  He doesn’t love you, Valynda. How could he? He doesn’t treat you right.

  Their lies had been many as they sought to divide her heart from his.

  But she was stronger than that. Just as she knew better than to listen to the voices of the damned trying to lull her to stay in hell with them.

  Misery loved company.

  “You can wallow on your own!” she called out. “I’ve better things to do than let you own a piece of my soul.” Or her time or thoughts. “Me future’s me own.”

  And they were to have none of it.

  With those words shouted out, they suddenly found themselves through the gates of Hades and back in the mortal realm.

  Agrios stood by their side with a baffled expression on his face.

  “I can’t believe I’m back!”

  “Can’t believe it worked.” Nibo let go of her hand.

  But as he moved away, she caught him and pulled him back to her to kiss him soundly on the lips, grateful beyond belief for what he’d risked.

  For her.

  When he pulled away, he looked down at her with a frown. “What was that for?”

  “Being you, my love. For being wonderful.”

  “You are me Vala, right? Not some shape-shifter masquerading as my girl?”

  She tugged on his curls and feathers. “Don’t make me hurt you, Xuri.”

  “Now there’s me threatening chère.” He kissed her forehead.

  Savoring the warmth of his caress, she stepped into his arms and hugged him. “I’ve never adequately thanked you for all you’ve done.”

  “Aye, you have. Every time you look at me like you do right now … or like you want to gut me. Sad to say, I relish both.”

  “Um, people, I hate to break up your tender moment and all, but should I be asking about that?”

  Valynda pulled away to see what Agrios was talking about. But the moment she could see where he had his attention, she regretted that she’d bothered.

  Far off in the distance, there was a black cloud that seemed to be swallowing the sun whole.

  “Mother of God, what is that? Is it your brother, too?”

  Nibo let out a tired breath. “Nay. That be the Malachai rising. It’s his demons.”

  Agrios ran back to the gate they’d just come through. Only now it was a solid rock wall. He began to pound on it with his fist. “Hades! Let me back in! I love children! I do! They’re awesome! Lovable creatures!”

  Nibo shoved at him. “Shut it, you big baby. Or else I’ll feed you to one.”

  Still the cloud grew larger. Darker.

  More ominous.

  Valynda gulped as she felt her own panic rising. “What are we to do?”

  Nibo shrugged with a nonchalance she wanted to beat him for. “Judging from the size of that, I’d say we’re going to bleed. A lot.”

  Jaden listened as the rumbling of evil grew louder. Stronger. It was absolutely deafening in its zealous squeal. Soon there would be nothing left to hold it back. He knew that better than anyone. His son Xev had just been summoned into action. He could feel it deep inside.

  As one of the Malachai’s oldest and most powerful generals, Xevikan held a unique essence that was impossible to miss whenever he awakened from his eternal sleep. Not to mention that as a cursed demongod, Xevikan forever came awake more pissed off than the others, and that resonated through them all. His son still wanted the hearts of all the gods to feast upon for what had been done to his wife.

  Especially Jaden’s.

  I should have stood up for him. There were a lot of things he should have done. But not even he could change the past.

  All he could do now was try to save the future. For all of his children. Including Caleb, who was locked into slavery at Adarian’s side.

  By trying to save them and spare them more harm, he’d failed them all abysmally.

  No wonder Savitar stayed on his island in seclusion. It seemed ever the treachery of fate to go out of her way to slap them down every time they tried to help the ones they loved.

  “Forgive me,” he whispered, knowing that for him, there would never be any such thing. How could there be?

  His entire job was to sell people out.

  Especially the ones he loved.

  “And one day, brother,” he sneered at Noir’s bedroom door, “I will add you to that list.”

  And Kadar Noir would be the only one he’d relish doing it to.

  For now, he would keep to Cam’s plan and they would wear down the Malachai. Weaken him. It was still the best and only plan they had. Neutralize Adarian and the world might survive this.

  It had to work. Otherwise …

  They were all doomed.

  Nibo watched as the sky turned as dark as night and the demons boiled out of the ocean. He should probably fight them, but really …

  Where did o
ne start with a number that large? Really. It was so overwhelming, all he could do was stand here and gape.

  “You look a bit stunned.”

  He dropped his gaze to Agrios. “Well, I don’t see you jumping in there to take them on, old man. So before you berate me, how’s about it then, eh?”

  Agrios snorted. “What form of stupid do I appear?”

  “The kind that questions the loa who let you out of Tartarus.”

  Valynda cleared her throat. “Gentlemen, should we not be a bit more focused on the end of the world that’s bearing down upon us?”

  “I would, but I’m too busy shitting my armor.”

  Nibo laughed at the Greek’s exceptionally dry tone. At least Agrios was honest. And not that he blamed him. He was having his own reservations. The idea of crawling into the nearest crevice and sitting this one out was beginning to appeal to him as well.

  But cowardice wasn’t his forte.

  Stupidity was even less so.

  What was left when facing a horde this large?

  Tactful retreat? That would be Thorn’s answer.

  Suddenly, he heard a loud whistle.

  Valynda rushed past him toward the sandy beach.

  “Rosie!” she shouted, waving her arms over her head. “Oh, thank goodness!”

  Nibo dragged his gaze from the swirling demons to see the small rowboat making its way to shore.

  Off to the side, way out past the shoreline, the Sea Witch II was moored and waiting for them. Leave it to Bane to follow the swirling mass of demons to Death’s Door to find them at the gates of Hades.

  And Barnet, too, as his ship wasn’t far behind.

  “I take it they’re on our side?”

  He nodded at Agrios’s question. “While my lady isn’t the most circumspect, she doesn’t normally rush off to greet her enemies with open arms.”

  Using his crook to test the shifting surf around his feet, Nibo followed Valynda as she waded out toward her friends. Luckily, the demons were distracted by the ship and began attacking the crews. Thunderous cannon fire rolled out and was punctuated by the screams and curses of the demons as they were struck and fell from the skies.

  Which made him wonder where his brother had gotten off to.

  Nibo paused to search the sky around them. Agrios rushed past him to climb into the boat. “Where are you, you worthless nithing?” The bastard couldn’t be far. It wasn’t like him to sit out any fight.

  Not for long.

  “Nibo?”

  He took a deep breath at the sound of Valynda’s call. Something about this didn’t feel right, and it wasn’t just the demon attack on the ships. There was a sinister feel to the air. Something that crawled over his skin like a dead hand.

  “Is he all right?”

  Valynda paused at Rosie’s question as she saw Nibo standing in the water. Her breath caught at the unbelievably sexy image of him there in his tricorne with his curls and feathers, poised so regally while the water lapped against his hips. He was commanding and fierce. His face was painted, and at the same time it didn’t detract at all from its unbelievable beauty.

  She settled her skirts down and nodded. “He’s listening.”

  “To what?” Hinder asked.

  “What we can’t hear.” She’d seen him do it countless times. Those voices of the dead and damned who told him things. The mysterious language of the ether that floated in the air around the living, unheard, and carried secrets.

  After a few seconds more, Nibo blinked and closed the distance between them.

  Rosie held his arm out to him to help him into the boat. With a graceful leap, Nibo came aboard and settled himself by her side as more cannons fired.

  “Thank you,” Nibo said to her crewmates. “Impeccable timing, gentlemen.”

  “You have the captain to thank there.” Rosie sat down to retake his oars.

  Valynda watched the fighting. Not even the dragons could drive them off. “How long have the demons been circling?”

  Hinder sighed. “Too long. They seem to have taken a liking to us. Wish they’d find another pet to maul.”

  “I don’t like your friends.” Agrios eyed them warily.

  “Neither do we.” Rosie wrinkled his nose. “But they go well with the whole doom-and-gloom atmosphere, don’t you think?”

  Nibo snorted.

  More cannons thundered.

  “What’s that?”

  Nibo glanced off to where Agrios pointed at another ship that was joining the fray. “Not quite sure. Rosie?”

  He shrugged.

  Valynda couldn’t tell either.

  It wasn’t until they were back on board the Sea Witch II that she could finally tell the new ship was Circe’s.

  With the help of her crew, the three ships and dragons were able to drive the Malachai’s demons away.

  But there still was no sign of Qeenan. And she could tell that was concerning Nibo by the way he watched the horizon and clutched his crook.

  “What do you think your brother’s up to?”

  He let out a tired sigh. “I wish I knew. Ever have a feeling something is so wrong that nothing is going to make it right?”

  “Every day I was in the body of a straw poppet.”

  He pulled her closer. “Understood.”

  The two of them fell silent as Circe’s ship pulled alongside the Sea Witch. Barnet and his men hung back. A tense silence fell over the crew as they watched them cautiously.

  Agrios didn’t appear much happier.

  The pall over all the crews and dragons was tangible and was almost as thick as it’d been while they battled the Malachai’s demons.

  Circe swung over to the deck of the Sea Witch, but instead of rushing toward her son, she approached him slowly, almost cautiously.

  Nibo watched the guarded way Agrios met his mother. He’d seen warmer receptions between rabid porcupines.

  More affection, too.

  Glad I’m not a rabid porcupine.

  Or a son of Circe.

  Circe passed a cool stare to Nibo. “Thank you for returning him.” Her words lacked the gratitude she professed.

  Unsure of how to respond to that, Nibo met Valynda’s gaze. “Our pleasure.” Then he leaned in to whisper in her ear. “But I feel for the boy.”

  Valynda nodded. She did, too, given this lackluster reunion. She’d expected so much more. Why had his mother been so hell-bent on having him back if this was all she wanted from him?

  A bad feeling went through her. Was there something more to all this? What could Circe be up to?

  Maybe she just wanted a chance to work things out with her son? To fix their broken relationship?

  It was too late for her. Her mother was gone and had never had any interest in repairing their shattered hearts. It was a sad lot when a child broke from their parent. Tragic, really, and it still burned in her that she’d cut away from her parents the way she had. But that was on them. She had done nothing to deserve their hatred. And she would never understand how they could have turned on her the way they did.

  Perhaps it was the dreamer in her that hoped that maybe, just maybe, they could pull together through this.

  It sounded pithy even to her, but she would keep them in her prayers, because she wanted it to work out for them. For someone to have a happy ending. Because that gave her hope that perhaps such things weren’t dead.

  And hope was something she desperately needed right now.

  Circe moved to stand in front of them and held her hand out to Nibo. “I won’t forget your kindness.”

  “What about Valynda’s body?”

  “It’s hers now. But it will still take time for the soul to bind. Until then, she’s vulnerable to losing it again. Guard the bottle.” And then she and her son were gone.

  Valynda hated the sound of that.

  Guard the bottle. Great. She glanced over to Sallie and his rugged, weathered face as he grinned at her. It was a terrifying thought that she could lose her soul so easily.<
br />
  But at least she was whole again.

  Thanks to Xuri.

  She kissed his cheek. “Have I told you lately how wonderful you are?”

  “Not in the last half hour.”

  She smiled. “Then I’ve been remiss.”

  A hungry, dark look entered his eyes. One that was familiar and foreign at the same time. He toyed with the feathers on her headdress. “Me colors and style look good on you.”

  “Glad you think so.”

  Bane shook his head at them as he gave orders to weigh anchor and head out.

  “Nibo!”

  He growled as Masaka popped in behind him with her frantic call. Couldn’t he have five minutes without his family interfering?

  Well, at least it isn’t Qeenan. …

  Even so it annoyed him. He smirked at her. “I’m a little busy at the moment.”

  She was having none of it. “Legba needs you.”

  Nibo gave her a droll stare at the inconvenient timing. “Now?”

  Masaka gave them each a peeved glare. “He didn’t say to wait, and you know how Papa is.”

  Nibo stiffened as he caught the note in her voice. Aye, he knew how they all were. Spiteful. Intolerant.

  Selfish.

  And he was tired of them snapping their fingers and expecting him to come running without question. He wasn’t their lapdog, and he’d been doing that since the day he died and they’d taken him in to help others like him cross over and reach their final resting place, or to be reborn.

  At first, he’d loved it. Especially guiding others who’d died violently, as he had. To help them understand the myriad of emotions that came with such a horrible passing. Such as betrayal and rage.

  But after that came the hurt, the emptiness. That dark place of knowing how little you meant to the world and to the one who’d killed you. Of accepting the fact that others just didn’t care and of how little you mattered.

  That was what he enjoyed helping them with. Allowing them to find their self-worth again, after it was all over. To get past the betrayal that stayed so long it became its own form of haunting and torture.

  So, he’d learned to ignore the others and to play along with them. To focus on what needed to be done and ignore the downside. To let the good outweigh the bad until he’d lost himself to their world. Lost himself to the rum.