by Melissa Haag
“What? Something you don’t know?”
He flashed a grin at me.
“It’s been known to happen on occasion.”
“He was looking for you because of me. You seemed to know a lot about what I’m going through. Fourth generation and all that. I was hoping you’d know of a way for me to become a full fury without having to kill someone for it.”
“Ah,” he said.
I waited for more, but he remained silent.
“Ah? That’s it?”
He grinned again.
“You’re unique for a fury, Megan. Most of your kind embrace their natural impulses to seek out and punish the wicked.”
“So I’ve been told.” I sighed, and it turned into a yawn.
“Do you know why a fury must confront the oldest generation when she comes into her power?” he asked.
“No. And that’s a good part of what’s pissing me off about all of this. We do so much without ever understanding why? We’re just good little trained sheep, going about our business.”
He chuckled.
“I will never be able to see a fury without picturing a sheep, now. Furies kill each other because of their wickedness. The older the fury, the more wickedness she’ll have. It’s from punishing all the wicked in her lifetime.”
“Whoa—whoa—whoa.” I lifted my head from the seat. “Are you saying I’m going to get condemned to hell for doing what I was made to do?”
“Yes. But not like every other wicked being you send there. Furies are forgiven their wickedness the moment their wings are ripped from their back, stripping them of their power. They die mortal and have a special resting place in hell. A peaceful one to make up for their restless and angry lives on Earth.”
We get peace. But only when we die?
“What the hell? None of this is in the Book of Fury.”
“There’s a Fury book?” he asked, glancing at me. “I’d love to read it.”
I studied him for a moment. Given the secrecy in which all creatures guarded information about themselves, and the protection spells on the super-secret library back at the Academy, I knew I should say no. But, I’d also read the book cover to cover and knew it didn’t contain much.
“I’ll let you read it if you promise to add to it, too.”
He waved his hand at me. “What I told you is just common knowledge.”
“Not so common if I don’t know it. What else do you know?” I asked, resting my head against the seat again. Sleep was tugging at me, but I didn’t want to give in.
“Probably not as much as you’d like. I don’t have an answer for your problem. My understanding is that you’ll be overcome with rage when you face your great-grandmother. You’ll rip her wings away, stripping her of her power, and condemn her to hell. And, in doing so, you’ll claim your power.”
“Because there can only be three furies,” I said with frustration.
“Exactly. Now, tell me something I don’t know.”
“Furies can only have girls.”
“Common knowledge,” he said with a smirk.
“Oh yeah? Griffins can only have males.”
“Also common knowledge.”
I waited for him to connect the dots and knew he had when his smirk faded. He looked thoughtful for a moment.
“Hooking up with Oanen might cause you some trouble.”
“Yeah, my mom already tried to talk me out of it. Save your breath.”
“I’m not trying to talk you out of anything.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“Nothing really,” he said with a shrug. “Things that might upset the balance always interest me.”
“What balance?” I asked.
“The balance the gods created.”
“They're dead.”
“Are they?”
“I like talking to you, Zayn. You’re smart, and you’re not an information hog. Don’t start holding back now.”
He grinned again, his face illuminating from the headlights of a passing car.
“I’m not holding back,” he said. “I really don’t know if the gods are dead or not. But if they aren’t dead, where are they? Why are they suddenly taking a hands-off approach to the creatures they warred for?”
“Good question. I’ve been wondering that myself.”
“Not many of us have an opportunity to see the inside of a god’s realm. When you deliver your first soul, try looking around.”
“And report back to you?”
“Nah. It’d be better if you didn’t come looking for me after this. But maybe, sometime in the future, I’ll stop by and say hi.”
I snorted as that potential scene came to life in my head.
“Oh, you showing up on our front stoop will make Oanen so happy,” I said.
“Am I detecting some sarcasm?”
“Well, you did leave me naked on a cement floor.”
“With a blanket and my jacket. And I didn’t look. Well, I did, but in a clinical way to make sure you were okay.”
“Yeah, you might not want to ever mention that in front of Oanen.” I paused for a moment, thinking of him. “I hope he’s okay.”
Zayn tapped the wheel with his thumb, deep in thought.
“Griffins are singularly focused on the wellbeing of their mates,” he said.
“Don’t I know it. And, also, common knowledge.”
Zayn looked at me. There wasn’t a hint of humor in his eyes.
“You don’t understand. Oanen can’t be near you when you’re fighting her.”
Realization hit me hard. Oanen would try to protect me. Not from grandma, but from doing something I would hate myself for. And in doing so, he’d be hurt. Or worse. I’d already seen what fury fire could do to him.
So whatever happened, when I got to grandma’s house, I needed to make sure Oanen was gone first. That wasn’t going to be easy.
“Thanks,” I said softly. “You’ve helped me more than the people who were supposed to be my guardians and councilors.”
“I’m glad. This world can be scary without the right information, skills, or friends.” He reached over and set a hand on my shoulder. “If you’ll allow me, I’d like to help you sleep. I’ll keep you under until we reach her house. You’ll wake more rested and ready to face her this way. But the choice is yours.”
“Maybe in a little bit. There’s something else I wanted to ask you.”
He removed his hand.
“Ask away.”
“How are you not wicked? There are very few people I’ve met who’ve been as clean as you. And they’re clean because they’re stuck in Uttira and don’t do anything. But you’re out here, doing things to earn enough money to buy a car like this for your sister.”
He chuckled again.
“Thank you for noticing. And for confirming something I have suspected for a long while.”
“What’s that?”
“In all of our recorded history, and all of the myths and fables, there are many commonalities. Not just in those old faiths and beliefs but in the current ones. And one we have seen over and over again is the concept of redemption.
“I've done wicked things, Megan. But I've always sought to atone for them in some way.”
“So you're not wicked because you what? Repented?” I asked, not sure I believed removing wickedness could be that easy.
“No. It’s not about being sorry for what I’ve done. At least, not only that. I do a lot of magic. Not all of it is good. But, I keep track. A mental set of scales, if you will. When the bad starts getting close to the good, I do more good to tip the balance back in my favor.”
I considered his words as I stared out the window and watched the stars.
“It all feels like we are set up to play this game. To entertain the gods, you know?”
“I know. Only they stopped watching a long time ago. And I think it's giving us a little bit more room to interpret the rules in our favor.”
“And if they start paying att
ention again?” I asked, looking at him.
His expression didn’t change when he answered.
“Then we're all screwed.”
He gave me a side glance.
“Except for maybe you, daughter of Hades,” he said with a slight smirk.
I smiled in return. Zayn was different. Like he said, neither good nor bad. Just Zayn.
“I think I'm ready for a dose of that Zaynatonin, now.”
He reached out and set his hand on my shoulder.
“The things we do to protect those we love shouldn't tip the balance one way or another,” he said. “But sometimes, they do. Please remember that when you deal with any wicked in the future.”
Before I could ask what he meant, he said, “sleep.”
And, I did.
* * * *
A cramp in my neck woke me. With a small cry of pain, I grabbed the mutinying muscle and rubbed lightly as I opened my eyes. The car sat unmoving on the shoulder of some country road, and the driver's seat was empty.
Frowning, I sat up straighter and looked around. It was still dark out and not easy to see far in the moonlight. However, I couldn't see Zayn anywhere. I opened the door and got out to stretch.
“Zayn?” I called.
Nothing but a cool wind answered me.
I bent down and reached into the car for my phone, which was still on the center console so I could check the time.
The screen was open to a draft of a text message.
Sorry I had to leave. Things are complicated with Elizabeth, and my first priority is keeping her safe. I didn’t abandon you, though. Hopefully, the steps I’ve taken to protect Oanen will keep him safe when you get there. Good luck. Zayn.
I was so pissed I almost threw my phone. Instead of getting me to Grandma’s like he’d promised, he’d ditched me who knew where on the side of the road.
“Eliana was right. Never trust a druid.”
It took me a moment to calm down and read the message again. Anger turned to worry. What steps had Zayn taken to protect Oanen?
Pulling up the map app on my GPS, I saw I still had another two hours to drive before I reached Grandma Irene’s address. However, the route it wanted me to take sent me directly through the city. I knew better than to try that. I'd have to go around, which meant even more time before I could get to Oanen.
This time, I did throw my phone. Only, I made sure it landed on the front passenger seat. I slammed the door shut, and I stomped around the car to get in behind the wheel. When I started the engine, I saw Zayn had at least left me with a full tank of gas.
Spinning gravel, I took off from the shoulder and listened to the map app’s directions.
It wasn't long before I realized I had another problem. I either needed to pull over again and use the ditch or find a gas station. A hungry rumble from my stomach made the decision even though I hated having another delay. According to my map, there was a gas station not far from where I was.
I followed the directions and pulled into a fairly quiet parking lot at the edge of a small town. Wisps of annoyance skimmed over my skin before worming their way underneath it. I wouldn’t be able to stay long because douchey people all over the place couldn’t just be good.
Growling in agitation, I opened my door and slammed it hard behind me. I cringed, remembering my promise to return the car whole.
“You've got this, Megan. Just breathe.”
The door opened, and two teens stepped out. My skin heated, and my temper rose as I walked toward them. The first one had keys in her hand and glanced at me nervously. The second one was engrossed in her phone and barely paying any attention.
“What did you steal?” I demanded, stopping in front of them.
The one with the keys lifted her hands and looked ready to cry.
“I just paid for my gas. I didn’t steal anything. I swear.”
“Not you. You,” I said, staring at the girl with the phone.
The girl with the keys turned on her.
“Did you seriously steal something, Heather?”
The girl looked up in surprise.
“What? No. I was reading the whole time.”
“She was,” her friend said. “That’s all she really ever does.”
I studied Heather for a moment. The wickedness didn’t lie. She’d done something to break a human or non-human law often enough that I had an urge to hurt her.
“Did you pay for the book you’re reading?” I asked.
“Um. No. I downloaded it for free.”
“How?”
“I searched for places that had it for free. Usually forums where people share book files.”
I rubbed a hand over my face and tried to keep my cool.
“When you’re downloading books for free from sites that are posting non-authorized copies that are normally purchased elsewhere for a fee, that’s called book piracy and it’s stealing. How many books did you download?” The echo of my fury voice had crept into my words.
“One thousand two hundred and twenty-three.” She blinked in confusion. “How did I know that?”
“And how much would a book cost if you bothered to buy it.”
“Three or four dollars,” she said.
“Can you do the math?”
She paled and nodded.
“You’ve stolen around four thousand dollars and you’re what? Only sixteen? I can’t wait to see you in another ten years,” I said, thinking of Zayn’s scales. “You’ll be wicked enough by then that I’ll be able to do something about it.”
I moved to step around them.
“I don’t have a lot of money,” she said like that made her actions acceptable.
“I don’t have a lot of money, either. Does that mean I can walk in this store and just take what I want if the cashier’s back is turned? No. You want free entertainment? Turn on the TV and watch the damn news. Stop stealing books.”
I went inside without a backward glance and asked for the bathroom key. The attendant gave me a once-over before handing me a chunk of wood with a key attached.
“We have problems with people stealing the key,” he said when I gave it a long look.
“Yeah. Seems to be a thing.”
When I stepped outside again, the two girls were gone, and I was able to let myself into the restroom without incident. However, I would have been better off on the side of the road.
Shaking my head at the complete sanitary disregard of the previous toilet users, I wiped off the seat, lined it with toilet paper, and quickly did my business. I tried to touch as little as possible and washed twice before using my elbow to open the door on the way out. It wasn’t easy.
When I went back inside, I tossed the key to the cashier.
“Someone needs to go out there and clean that place. It's disgusting.”
“If you don't like it, don't use it.”
My fingers twitched.
“Don't test me, Anthony,” I said. “I'm not in the mood, and I know you've done something wicked, too.”
He gave me a startled look.
“How do you know my name?”
I pointed at the name tag on his chest.
Walking away from him, I went to the refrigerator section, hoping for some kind of edible food. There wasn't anything there, but they did have some hot rollers with a taco roll looking thing spinning dryly. Suddenly, I was missing Uttira’s healthy food options.
Shaking my head, I took one of the rolls and was about to step away when I was hit from behind with a blast of wicked. I swore under my breath.
Turning slowly, I watched a woman walk in. She was dressed nicely in slacks and a business-type top. Her lipstick and makeup were perfect as was her hair. Yet, the outside didn't matter. Not when I knew the inside was so rotten.
“Don't do it, Megan. Don't do it. Just walk out. You don't have time for this.”
I took one step toward the cashier and hesitated as the woman asked for the bathroom key.
The answer to protecting Oan
en was right in front of me. If I tried to send this woman to hell, I'd get another burn. I would also have my abilities muted and be unable to sense my grandma's wickedness.
On the flip side, I’d almost killed myself the last time. I thought of the picture of Oanen tied to a tree. Once again, I’d been left with a non- choice.
The woman walked out the door, and I quickly paid for my crappy breakfast and followed.
No one was in the parking lot to see me waiting outside the bathroom door. Or how I grabbed the blond business woman by the throat as soon as the door opened again.
Lifting her high, I embraced my anger.
“Mabel Cartwater, confess.” The harsh echo of my words brought forth the woman’s sobbing confession.
I listened to how she had repeatedly abused her toddler. Broken wrist. Broken collarbone. Broken femur. All separate occasions. All explained away with childish antics. The worst part was that this sad excuse for a mother was already trying to figure out how to get rid of the kid for good.
Her own child. What was it with shitty moms?
“If this doesn't work,” I said, “know that I'll be coming for you.”
I let go of my fury power at the same time I squeezed hard.
Chapter Sixteen
When I woke up, I was alone on the blacktop outside the restroom. There was no sign of the woman or her car. I swore softly. It didn't matter. I knew her name, and I knew, somehow, I would be seeing her again very soon. The wicked couldn't escape my fury.
Slowly, I got to my feet and winced at the new ache on the side of my neck. Using the key that was lying beside me, I let myself into the bathroom and saw a new burn. The ugly red patch would be impossible to hide.
Leaving the key in the door, I returned to my car. Driving wasn't easy. I had to pull over twice to throw up, and my head felt like it was going to burst. Eventually, I made it around St. Louis to the quiet country subdivisions on the outskirts.
Grandma's house was small compared to its neighbors, but it was well kept. Quaint. I pulled into the driveway and turned off the car.
A flutter of white on the front door caught my attention. Getting out, I tried to feel for any wickedness. Nothing. Relieved, I went to the door and discovered that the flutter of white was a note for me.