by K. F. Breene
“Yeah, Kieran doesn’t lead by being controlling. He leads by example, and people generally want to please him. Don’t fool yourself, though. Just because you aren’t being watched through that link, however it works—”
“By magic.”
“—doesn’t mean you aren’t being watched. We live on a cliff made of rock—if you wander around, Jerry will feel you. Alexis will feel you if you’re within her range. Zorn has eyes in the back of his head. Henry just randomly shows up places, destroying traps intended for Mordecai. Mind your Ps and Qs, because right now, you’re set up to stay in the inner-inner circle. That’s the Six, Bria, Alexis—we’re the good circle. You want to be in this one. Jerry’s pretty much in, but the other new people—well, I barely even know what they look like. Kieran keeps them at a distance. If you’re looking for inclusiveness, don’t end up with those people.”
Dylan shoved the cloud away, annoyed with himself. He let out a hard sigh before taking a seat in one of the chairs. “How did Jerry get in the inner-inner circle?”
“Playing hard to get.” Dylan couldn’t tell if she was making a joke or not. She pushed away from the banister. “Alexis helped him with his life, and apparently people are like spirits in that they try to stick around after that. Well, I hope your life doesn’t start to suck. Or that Kieran doesn’t go crazy like his dad. Also, you owe me money.”
With that, she made her way back into the house.
Chuckling, he stared out at the horizon for a while, feeling the chill of fall. The area was temperate, but even still, there was a bite coming off the water.
This was his new life. These people. This area. The ability to use the full range of his magic, if he could wipe away the cobwebs. He never would’ve guessed he’d be answering to a Demigod of Poseidon. Soon, he had every belief that Kieran would marry Alexis and make her a co-ruler. That would mean Dylan was also answering to a mistress of Hades. A Soul Stealer, no less. His parents would be severely disappointed in him. Most higher-powered people of Zeus stayed with their own kind. He’d always been taught that was the strongest way, because Zeus was the strongest god. After witnessing how Kieran’s people had handled Flora’s… Well, their assurances of being the best wouldn’t help them much when Demigod Kieran dominated the playing field.
The problem was that Dylan didn’t have a clue how to combat people of Hades, and that was exactly what he’d need to do if he accompanied Kieran and Alexis to Demigod Lydia’s territory. Hades didn’t play by the rules—Dylan had always been taught that. They were underhanded, stacking the odds in their favor whenever possible. They said one thing and did another. They fed you sweet words and, when you turned your back, stabbed a knife through you. Hades, by and large, was not to be trusted.
Alexis was supposed to be their resident expert, and she didn’t have a clue about anything magical. Dylan wondered if Kieran was actually leading them to the slaughter. Was he too green—too new—to take on someone of Lydia’s caliber so soon?
Ready or not, though, it was happening. Dylan had only just returned to the magical world, but he was headed into a possible battle.
He’d best be ready.
25
Alexis
The sprawling palace lit up the desert like a beacon, all three stories well lit on this moonless night. The large drive up to the residence was flanked by flower-laden bushes that couldn’t be native to the area, what with their leafy green foliage and bright, sweet-smelling flowers. The palace itself was nestled amidst palm trees, artful landscaping, and strings of fairy lights.
Men wearing tuxedos waited at the top of the drive and in front of the large double-door entrance, their white gloves spotless and their souls as shriveled as old, dried-up prunes. Souls stood inside the doors—the second leg of attendants to our arrival, I had no doubt.
Our caravan of stretch limousines slowed and then stopped beside the men, the driveway now running parallel to the entrance and leading to an enormous garage that might be better described as a warehouse. I sat in silence. Although the limo was likely big enough for the entire crew, the only other passengers were Kieran and my kids. The rest of our main crew followed in an unnecessarily large number of matching limos, the name of the game clearly a display of wealth, both by Demigod Lydia and Kieran.
I’d felt out of place many times in my life, but this was competing for one of the most notable occasions.
“Just be yourself,” Kieran said, holding out his hand for me.
“Lexi is going to make an ass of herself within the first five minutes,” Daisy murmured, turning to look behind her. “I can’t wait to see what Bria says about the style. Talk about gaudy!”
“This is certainly…distasteful,” Mordecai said, his lip curling. “She won’t make an ass of herself in their eyes, though. She’ll do something they didn’t expect, and that will put them on their toes.”
They were both right, I had no doubt. “As long as I don’t incite war, we’ll be fine,” I murmured, feeling our people climb out of their limos.
One of the white-gloved attendants opened our door and stepped aside. Kieran stepped out gracefully, pausing to button the jacket of another of his delicious tailored suits before offering me his hand. I climbed out…not as gracefully, hating the height of my heels and worried my boobs would fall out of the low-necked dress.
Daisy and Bria had made adjustments to the attire Aubri had chosen. Aubri, sadly, had been left behind. While Lydia’s invitation had allowed for me to bring a certain number of service staff, Kieran had insisted on bringing only people who could help protect me. Namely Bria, Red, and Jerry. My kids got to come because they were kids, and the rest of the available spots went to the “famous” Six, which now only numbered five and allowed a spot for Dylan. Amber had been forbidden, and although the explanation we’d been given was that she was untrustworthy due to her former service to Valens, I suspected Lydia had just been worried Amber would unearth all of her secrets. Little did Lydia know that Henry was nearly as good at this point, and had an uncanny ability to be in the right place at the right time.
So while my protection was in good standing, my style was not. I hoped there wasn’t much of a media presence.
One thing at least I could boast for my style was that I’d denied Harding’s strong suggestion that I bring the cats. Other Demigods’ partners brought around magical beasts or little dogs—why not take a couple of cool cats? I had to own my mantle as the pajama-wearing cat lady.
When Kieran had seemed on the verge of relenting, probably thinking two enormous cats would help protect me in some way, I’d threatened to sleep in the other room. I had enough problems with my image and looking after two wards—I did not need to add to either plate, thank you very much.
“Demigod Kieran, welcome.” A short, slight woman stepped out of the door in a flowing black gown with what I hoped were fake diamonds lining the neck and dipping down to her tiny waist. If they weren’t fake, then the dress was a ridiculous waste of money.
“Demigod Lydia, hello. Thank you for having us.” Kieran dropped my hand so he could bow and then graze his lips across her knuckles. I knew that meant he was proclaiming himself to be lesser in status. “Let me introduce Alexis.” He turned and put his hand out to me again.
I’d been filled in on a few things, like how to enter the room and what he and his guys might say and do, but after that, I’d received no instruction. Nothing. Kieran wanted to play me as a wild card, and he suspected my gross negligence of magical decorum would make people even more unsettled than simply knowing my magical type. Since I’d probably mess up regardless, I’d agreed to go along with it.
“Hello,” I said, stepping forward and taking his hand. I didn’t curtsy. I probably should’ve, but the thin four-inch heels were hard enough just to stand in. My ankles kept trying to mutiny, buckle, and dump me on my face. “Nice to meet you, Demigod Lydia.”
“My, my.” She took me in, from my sleek, fashionable dress showing too much skin
(but not as much as she was showing) to the new ruby and diamond necklace Kieran had bought for the occasion, then down to the horrible designer shoes that were in the process of sawing off a toe. “The rumors are true—you wear his mark.”
“Yes. Reapplied several times over.” I entwined my fingers with his.
Lydia noticed. Her dark eyes surveyed me, her black eyebrows heavily tweezed and her long raven hair so dark that it held a blue shine in the dim glow of the exterior lighting. In contrast, her skin was paler than Daisy’s, somehow lacking the hue of the living. She almost looked like a fabled rendition of a vampire, complete with blood-red lips and a hungry gleam to her eyes, a more romantic look than the mottled corpses that prowled the dark places of the world. There was an otherworldly vibe about her, as though part of her had been left in the spirit realm.
“You are a striking beauty. There is a regal quality to your bearing. A gift from your father, I would imagine.” Her smile was slick, like oil glistening atop the waters of a rippling pond. “Magnus has the same…way about him.”
A surge of feeling rushed through my links with Kieran. Lydia had clearly spoken with Magnus, because Kieran hadn’t made my heritage public, and from what Henry and Amber had said, Magnus hadn’t either. Unless she was guessing, and if so, I hoped I’d kept the grimace off my face.
“And Kieran, just as dapper as your old man. Such a shame, how that worked out for you two.”
There was that smile again, and it took everything I had to not punch her in the spirit box.
“We shall see,” Kieran replied, his double meaning clear. It would be a real shame for her indeed if she kept this up.
“Please, come in. You must be tired from your journey. I’ve prepared rooms within my palace for you. I hope that is satisfactory?” Lydia turned with flair, her skirt swirling around her legs and the gems catching and throwing the light.
Kieran kept hold of my hand as we crossed the threshold. My first look at the inside of the place made my stomach drop and my knees wobble. I staggered to a stop, thankful for Kieran’s steadying grip.
Giant, glittering chandeliers dropped down from the high, domed ceiling within the long two-story hall. No doors lined the sides of the bottom level, but a large double door was nestled between two wide staircases at the end. The stairs led to twin corridors that ran along the outer sides of the hall, encased by a gold railing stretching between marble columns.
“So…she’s rich, then,” Daisy murmured next to me. Although she was probably supposed to be walking farther back for reasons of etiquette, she either didn’t know or didn’t care. “That’s what I’m taking away from this. She wants us to know she has more money than sense.”
“She got her point across,” Mordecai said from behind us. “Too bad money can’t buy style.”
“Totally. This is gross,” Daisy replied, a little too loudly for Lydia’s distance. I wondered if that was on purpose.
“Shh.” I turned to glare, and caught a glimpse of someone on the second story, looking over the gaudy banister. A hollow-faced man with a moth-eaten suit and sorrowful eyes watched our progress. I wondered how long ago he’d died, and why Lydia, who should be able to see spirits, let him hang around.
The click of high heels and dress shoes echoed against the walls, an aggravating sound. She’d do well to put down a rug or two. The doors between the stairs opened as Lydia reached them, and we passed into another long hall, this one with high-vaulted ceilings and another set of enormous, glittering chandeliers. The cream walls had gold-plated panels, and pinkish couches and chairs sat within large, arched alcoves. A line of people waited to either side, their expressions hungry and a little manic. None of them were living.
The first few reached out to Kieran, already moving to keep pace as he passed them. An older woman on my side reached out as well. Those behind readied to touch the living as we moved through.
They wanted our energy, that was clear enough. It was equally clear this wasn’t their first time haunting these halls, waiting for a feast of energy. Judging by their expectant expressions and the excited anticipation in their eyes, this was a regular occurrence. Lydia gave them the living, and they gave Lydia weakened guests, tired and weak from the spirit siphoning.
Some fucking welcome.
I scanned faces quickly, my heart thumping, wondering if I’d see Mia or any of the others stuck within these spirits—wondering if it was Lydia that had nabbed them or if they headed for eternal rest. Not one face was familiar, however. Not one soul.
I gritted my teeth but refrained from blasting out my repellent magic. I could send all these spirits hurtling through the hall and out of sight easily enough, but it would be equally easy for them to collect themselves and wander back. That was no good—Lydia had pushed these spirits at us, and now she could either collect some more, or go fishing in the spirit realm to retrieve them.
Still walking, putting in the barest amount of magic into keeping the spirits off us, I pulled up the power of the Line. It pulsed to life, the bruise-like colors flaring from a strip of black. Little soul ribbons waved from the various spirits, and I grabbed them all up as they scrabbled to get away. On an impulse, I grabbed Lydia’s as well, fluttering in spirit like everyone else’s. Demigods had souls, too. They were not immune to my tampering—they could just withstand it better than everyone else.
I tied all the soul ribbons together with Lydia’s, using power and spirit to do so, Harding’s teachings feeling incredibly natural at this point. Once I had them in a big knot, I strained, shoving all but Lydia’s spirit through the Line and deep into the beyond. I pushed them as hard as I could without losing my body.
They sailed out of the room, swallowed by the abyss. The ribbons connected to Lydia went taut, yanking at her center. She staggered to the side, as though an anchor had just been dropped on a moving ship. Her face came up, and she looked into the Line—probably looking Beyond, following the line of soul ribbons that had caught her up.
I moved the spirit around the room, letting the wind catch my dress and my hair and fling them in the opposite direction, just to make a statement. Yeah, I did that. We both know it, and now I’m showing that it was on purpose.
Lydia’s eyes narrowed as she looked back at me. The spirit wind around me calmed. The soul ribbons dragging at her snapped.
She was very good with her magic, and I felt like a novice again. I barely stopped from gulping.
Without a word, she straightened up and continued on. But while I could feel her trying to pack the Line away, it didn’t fade or diminish. It was as if it had chosen which master to listen to—and it had picked me.
I wondered if that was my imagination getting the better of me.
“I’ve prepared a small supper for you.” Lydia put out her hand, directing us through another set of double doors to a sort of parlor, comfortable couches and chairs arranged on thick rugs. A card table sat off to the side and a grand piano adorned the center of the room. She continued on through another set of double doors.
“Is she expecting a crowd of elephants?” Daisy murmured to Mordecai.
“Why have just one door when you could have two?” Mordecai whispered. “I wonder why there is only one card table.”
“I wonder why all the upholstery is either pink or purple,” Daisy said. As we walked into the dining room, she added, “Ah, here is some obnoxious red, what a nice surprise.”
“Shh!” I said, glancing back with a scowl.
The dining room could’ve easily sat thirty, and the spread of food could’ve fed twice as many. The long oak table was laden with meats, cheeses, breads, and fruit—so much food it nearly put me off eating. It was like an entire buffet restaurant had been laid out for a handful of people.
“Here we are.” Lydia stopped at the head of the table, laying her arm across the chair delicately. “My men will attend to you. If you need anything, just ask.” She looked at Kieran’s guys, her gaze appreciative as it traveled across shoulders an
d lingered on handsome faces. When it came to good looks, the “birds of a feather” rule definitely applied to Kieran and his guys. Except for maybe Jerry, who was looking at Lydia like a mongoose would a snake. “Anything at all.” Her gaze found Dylan last, lingering in the back. Lust lit her eyes and her tongue darted out, wetting her lower lip. “Hmm, you can stop by at any time. I’ll make time for you all night.”
Dylan went rigid, and though he didn’t visibly quail, his eyes said he wanted to. Flashbacks were probably hounding him.
A surge of protectiveness stole over me. I was essentially forcing him to deal with his past by dragging him into this new life. I would damn well make it as easy for him as possible.
“Gross. That’s not appropriate.” I curled my nose at her. “Don’t address Kieran’s guys like that. It makes you look desperate. Have a little respect for yourself.”
Dylan’s eyes widened. Thane, Boman, and Donovan all grinned.
Silence hung in the room, and Lydia’s eyes beat into mine. I held her gaze, knowing I’d just totally screwed up the status quo, but honestly, I didn’t care. She was gross. Dylan didn’t need yet another creepy woman seducing him, and I didn’t want to spend the next week listening to double entendres. It was best to nip the situation in the bud. If she took offense, well…she was already on thin ice, given the way she’d greeted us. We didn’t need friends like her.
“Well. I’ll leave you to it, then. Kieran…” Her smile was sweet, her voice still held a note of seduction, and that thin ice was starting to crack. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She slipped her arm off the chair and sauntered out of the room, her dress swirling, her probably real diamonds sparkling, and her presence tedious. A door closed with a deep thud and an echo, and we were alone. No souls existed inside or directly outside the lofty dining room. I said as much.