by K. F. Breene
“This leads toward the lower-status servants’ quarters,” Red said. “The ones that cook and clean and stuff. They aren’t used to dealing with guests or important magical staff.”
“Good.” The hallway reduced down and lost much of its glitter. After a while, the walls weren’t even lined with gold anymore. Staff members startled when they saw us, offering awkward bows or curtsies, then looking down and hurrying by. Their movements held none of the flourish from yesterday, none of the pompous, forced offerings of respect. These were true working people, paid less than they were probably worth and trying to make the best of it. I’d spent my life working around these types of people. I was this type of person. This area made me feel more comfortable than any other place in the house.
As I expected, there were also spirits here, sometimes reaching out to rake their hands across one of the workers. They were stealing energy from the people who needed it most.
I stopped in front of one of the spirits, a sad sack like all the others. I was sick of seeing them this way. Their suffering was just so unnecessary.
“Hey,” I said.
His dazed eyes roamed the wall to my right.
“Hey!” I prodded him with my magic.
His gaze swung my way, but it drifted on by, like he was in a drug coma and couldn’t focus.
I called the Line, pulling power from it, and reached out to the spirit.
“It’s okay, she’s crazy. Ignore her,” Bria said to a staff member who had slowed to watch me.
Laden with magic, I pushed my hand through the spirit’s middle and sent a pulse of magic into him. Nothing happened. A ribbon waved at me, attached to the spirit’s soul, and I rolled my eyes at myself. With my magic, I grabbed the soul ribbon, but instead of pulling it to me, I pumped magic into it.
The spirit inflated like a child’s plastic swimming raft.
His eyes shifted back to me, passed me, and then returned, like a blind person trying to gauge what lay in the path ahead with a walking stick.
I gave him another shock of magic.
His image changed, from middle-aged and stooped, standing listlessly, to young and broad-chested, his head held high and his magical power throbbing around him. He felt like a level four now, but back in the day, I suspected he’d been a weaker level five.
His focus snapped to mine. His eyebrows lowered.
“What’d you do?” Bria sidled closer. “I can feel that soul. Was that there this whole time?”
“What’s your deal?” I asked the guy as he brought up his hands, probably to do magic.
I sapped power from him. I giveth, and I taketh away.
“I’m not your enemy,” I said. “I’m just a girl, standing in front of a spirit, wondering what the fuck?”
“Yeah, good people skills,” Bria said, and she was serious.
The man looked around, blinking, like he didn’t know where he was.
“How come you haven’t crossed the Line?” I felt it throbbing beside me, its tug uncomfortable, even for me.
He turned his head, looking at it with longing, and touched his chest. “I…can’t. I…” His expression turned panicked. “I can’t.”
“Are you trapped here? Do you remember why you’re here?” I fed him more energy.
Staff members slowed, watching.
“Red, move them along,” I said distractedly, watching the man’s face. The more power he had, the more his eyes hardened. The more defiance crept into him. “And pass out business cards. Maybe they want a better Demigod to work for.”
“She holds me,” the man said. “I failed her. She holds me here. Keeps me. I can’t…leave…this place.”
“I’ll set you free,” I whispered, closing my eyes. “Can you give me a second to figure out how she’s keeping you from passing over?”
He said something, but I’d already fallen into the trance of spirit so I could better judge how Lydia was holding the spirits. It could require a lot of conscious concentration, given the number of spirits in this place.
Deeper into the trance I went, barely noticing Bria’s attempt to get my attention. My soul felt light, like it wanted to rise out of my body, but I kept it rooted, barely slipping into the beyond so I could see. I just needed a peek, and then I’d be right back.
A person-sized shape materialized almost immediately, as though it had been waiting. Actually, it wasn’t a person so much as a shadow—the shadow, the one I’d encountered with Will Green and his shifters, and again when I’d needed help with Valens. The grumpy guy who pushed me out of this plane more often than he helped me navigate it. It wasn’t Harding, though, I could feel that right off. It—he?—didn’t have the same presence. The same easy glide through this abstract place.
He stared at me for a moment, and just like with Harding, I knew what he was asking without needing to hear the words. Surprisingly, it wasn’t “Why are you here?” That seemed to have been established—I was here because I belonged. My magic granted me a pass to this place. Instead, I heard/felt, “What’s the situation?”
I shared my thoughts about the trapped spirit, and how I wanted to find out what was anchoring it to the world of the living. The shape nodded. He turned, almost lazily, and pressed his palm between the upper chest and neck of the soul. Spirit wound around the contact in bright violet, revealing a string starting from the soul and leading through the world of the living, cutting through the wall in swirly loop-de-loops and finally disappearing.
A strange feeling trickled down through my belly. It reminded me of my mom, and crazy situations, and everything working out unexpectedly. Without thinking, knowing it was a bad idea but used to just going with the flow when I felt like this, I grabbed that string and, using it as a guide, I left my body behind. Touching that cord, I felt energy surging in the same direction I was going, being pulled from the spirit and the magic I’d injected into him. In no time, that guy would be back to his sad state, listlessly hovering, looking at nothing.
Frustration overwhelmed me, followed fast by anger. Where did it end? This soul had been ripped from his body, stripped of everything he’d known, and left to find his way through the unfamiliar plane, alone. Surely he’d paid the price for whatever he’d done many times over. If not, she could have dissolved his spirit entirely. Lydia had the power to do so. But this? This was an exhibition of moral bankruptcy. She kept those spirits in the halls for her own benefit. Any energy they siphoned from her guests and staff went to her.
My brain couldn’t wrap around how gross that was. A Demigod of Hades could just take power from the Line—why would she siphon it from people unless she got off on it?
The string led into a large room with cream walls lined and accented with gold. Three groupings of furniture created little discussion pods, one set upholstered in black and white, another in forest green, and the third, where Kieran and Lydia sat, was stark white. A thought curled up, unbidden—Thank God I’m not in that meeting. I’d spill coffee and crumbs all over the pristine furniture.
None of their guards or inner circle members waited in the room with them. Instead, I felt their souls in the room next to this one, all spread out, none of them mingling with the unfamiliar souls who were probably Lydia’s crew.
Two staff members in their stupid coats and wigs entered the room from a door on the right, one carrying a golden tray laden with little sandwiches, chips and pretzels, and chocolates, and the other rolling a silver drink cart. The staff member with the cart stopped when he was close to remove a tray of leftover pastries from the small table in the conversation nook. The other put down the new plate of food and refilled Kieran’s nearly empty glass with some sort of purple drink.
Kieran’s soul gleamed, bright and beautiful, but he was troubled and scared. He’d been fine before I took flight, so I could only assume he felt me now, not in my body where I was supposed to be.
Lydia turned her head slowly toward me. She sat on the couch, her dress’s slit parting around her crossed legs. The v
iolet string I’d been following disappeared into a halo around her chest.
Hating myself, knowing how incredibly stupid this was, I acted quickly. I had to know the extent of what she was doing! I had to figure out a way to stop her.
I darted toward her and did what the shadow guy had done, only I didn’t have a hand. How did I get a hand in this place? I improvised with the idea of a hand, slapping spirit against her upper chest. Violet lit up my world before settling. Strings of power blazed through the room, lots of them, some connected directly to her and some detouring to the room next door. She wasn’t keeping all the power; she was feeding those who protected her, as well.
The string—more of a rope now—I had followed was thicker than most of the others, laden with the power I had supplied. I wondered if she’d felt the influx, or if it had just replaced the lost power from the spirits I’d sent into the beyond last night. There’d been so many of them, but they were weak.
Closing my eyes, acting fast, I used spirit and power and clipped the smaller strings connected to her. Instead of snapping off, however, they slowly dissolved, the beautiful purple tarnishing, darkening, then dying. The string didn’t pull away—it disappeared entirely, and I vaguely felt the Line throb.
Had I just set the soul free, then? Was clipping those connections enough to let them drift away? It certainly seemed easier than forcing the spirits over the Line.
Before I could back away, spirit coalesced around me, trapping me, sticking me to the spot. A smile slowly curled Lydia’s lips and a new violet string formed. A connection that she intended to attach to me!
I struggled to get away, to break free. This was why I had, up until now, avoided leaving my body. Why I hadn’t wanted Jack or any of the others to come. She dealt in spirit like Demigod Flora dealt in storms and lightning. I was now in Lydia’s sticky web of spirit, caught, without my body to keep me grounded.
I was at her mercy, and I had every reason to believe she had none.
30
Alexis
Kieran stood slowly, his eyes rooted to Lydia. I knew he couldn’t see me in this state, but I’d ripped out his soul six months ago and brought him into this plane with me. After that, he’d always been able to feel me when I traveled in spirit. He knew I was hovering right around Lydia, and I was quite sure he also knew what her sly, triumphant smile meant.
His people started moving in the room next door, surely feeling the incredible panic that was rising in him like a tide. His power, surging through the room. But what could he do? The only option was to kill her.
I pumped a shock wave of power into the beyond, attempting to reach the world of the living. Spirit shook around me, but I was still stuck. If Lydia felt the assault, she didn’t show it. I thrashed and turned, chopping at her connections, hacking at the deep violet rope slowly creeping toward me through the air.
Jack appeared next to me—then Frank, of all people. John came next, followed by Chad and Mia. All of the spirits from back home, the ones who’d helped me fight or just hung around, populated the room.
“Help!” I cried, not sure what to do. Air gathered in the room, Kieran readying to fight, trying to save me even though he couldn’t know what was actually happening.
I could not let him kill her. His father had been one thing—they’d battled, face to face. They’d pitted themselves against each other, Kieran the underdog. But to accept a Demigod’s invitation and then kill her? The other superpowers of the world wouldn’t stand for that, especially since he was so new and untried, and given his history. His future would be over before it had properly begun.
“Tell Kieran no,” I said to Jack, who was staring down at Lydia with a mask of rage. “Tell him not to touch her.”
“Careful there,” Lydia drawled, victory in her eyes as she looked up at Kieran, unable to see me with my being across the veil. “Harm me, and I will end you. I have the connections to do it. You are already thought of as a rogue child. If you don’t play nice, you’ll be put down for a rabid dog.”
“Hard to end me when you’re dead,” he said.
Her laugh was throaty. “How many glasses of that grape tea have you drunk? Enough to bring down a small elephant, I’d wager. You can already feel it, can’t you? The dwindling supply of power, the sleepiness? That elixir was a special concoction, gifted to me by a sorceress. It was in your food, too. Night, night, my handsome prince. You’ll wake up refreshed and won’t remember your little Soul Stealer at all. Maybe then you’ll rethink my suggestions regarding the way we should pass the time.”
He huffed out a laugh. “You think you can hold me? Break me?”
“Not at all. I paid a handsome fee to the Wicked King in order to grant me attendance with one of his court. You’ve heard of the Wicked King of the dark fae, of course. He was expensive—nearly broke my operating budget—but to get a Soul Stealer, it was worth it. With her, I can rebuild my dynasty.”
“You would try to keep Magnus’s daughter?” Kieran asked. “You’d pit yourself against him?”
“What’s the saying? You break it…you bought it?” She laughed. “What they did to the last Soul Stealer was highly effective. The blueprint is laid out—I only need to apply the practice. Once she is bound to me, he will have no claim.” She tsked at Kieran. His eyes drooped and he swayed. He shook his head and straightened up. Her smile grew. “No one ever expects a woman. Play nice, pretend to be the peacemaker or the doormat, and men will believe the candied lies. No woman could ever outsmart them, after all. Well, now you know that some of us were made to be villains.”
“They weren’t lies in the beginning. Your surprise and embarrassment at being caught in my territory was genuine, we both know that. You must’ve known at that time that you had no chance to get Alexis. What changed your mind?”
“Yes, true. I must admit, I was surprised to be found out that day in your garden. I did not fully appreciate what a Soul Stealer could do. Legends only paint part of the picture. To answer your question, speaking to Magnus greatly enlightened me.” Her eyes narrowed and she leaned forward. The cloud of violet around her intensified. She was pulling more power—clearly the energy draw was conscious when she wanted it to be, and she was managing all the connections just fine. “When I sought information, he treated me like a dog begging for scraps. He offered to help me acquire her, but the benefit would’ve been all his. His offer was nothing short of condescending, the arrogant prick. He needs to be taken down a peg.” She sat back again, and her power gathered around her. “So I decided to take a chance. A gamble. I was a good gambler back in the day. It’s how I climbed high in the social ranks. Who is removed from our magical laws? The fae, of course. And who would gladly accept money without caring that their customer intended to demean a Demigod and enslave his beau? The Wicked King of the dark fae court, obviously. And now you come full circle. Go ahead and sit down. I can see you’re struggling, as surely as your men are ailing next door. And yes, by demean, I mean that when you are temporarily stripped of your mind—that is how the fae get at the memories, I gather—I will have you for my plaything. You are quite a prize. I don’t think there is a handsomer Demigod. I am fertile for these next few days—you will give me a Demigod baby. It will join us together. My empire will be as it once was.”
Kieran’s power built even as he staggered. “The fae operate with tricky words and misleading contracts. Dealing with them is risky, at best. Even if you managed to navigate their courts, you’re not smart enough to pull this off. Mark my words, you have just cemented your ruin. And I will never, ever lie in your bed.”
Air slammed into Lydia, but she was already up and moving, hitting back with spirit and magically induced fear. The walls around us shook as he battered her. I suspected he was trying to pull the water from the pipes, but nothing was happening. Even the air slicing across her barely left a mark. Whatever the elixir was, it was having a devastating effect.
Fear such as I’d never known stopped my heart. The fear of
losing him was so much more powerful than any fear I might have for myself. If Lydia won, he’d forget me. All our memories, all the time we’d shared, gone. The feel of my body would be removed. The evidence of his love, his mark…
I froze as understanding dawned.
My spirit friends piled onto Lydia, sucking at her energy, some of them clawing at the violet strings. She laughed delightedly, and I knew they wouldn’t be enough. Not without something to distract her.
“Remind Kieran of my mark,” I yelled at Jack. Although my voice still didn’t work here—the words were soaking into his awareness through spirit—it felt like my physical ears could hear sounds. “Tell him to remind her that even if he forgets me, he’ll still see his mark sparkling across my skin. He will feel me deeply inside of him, connected by our souls. She can break me, but she cannot tear his mark from my flesh. She can strip me from his mind, but she cannot tear down the evidence of our love, because it is written within us. As soon as we meet, we’ll fall in love all over again. I am his, and he is mine. We will always be one, and no amount of damage to our minds or physical bodies will ever change that. Tell him!”
Jack relayed the message to Kieran, yelling over the building magic and the screaming and shouting of spirits trying to suck the energy Lydia was stealing from others.
The door burst open. Zorn sprinted into the room, and the cats bounded in right behind him. One cat roared—so similar to a big cat cub on the African plains that it was startling—sending out a shock wave of spirit. It crashed into my soul and sent me careening to the other side of the room, still caught in Lydia’s web but more distant from that creeping violet thread. The other cat launched onto Lydia as air from Kieran continued to batter her. Its claws sprang from its large paws and raked down her face. Huge gashes opened up and blood immediately pooled in them before dripping down her cheek and onto her neck.