Immortally Embraced (29 page)

He’d trusted Nerthus.

We zigzagged through the graves in the cemetery, scrambled down the low rise and into camp.

I had to see the general. I had to know. If it was Nerthus and he could stop her, maybe we had a chance.

And if it was Argus who had betrayed us …

If he was the one poised to end all humankind, maybe we could end this.

A bone-deep chill shuddered through me. The bronze knife slapped against my thigh as I ran. I’d never killed anyone before. But I’d kill him if it meant stopping the slaughter.

This enchanted dagger, the weapon that would not stop following me, had the power to murder a demi-god. It was designed to split apart inside the body. It would break into deadly shards, each one smaller than the last, and slice an immortal apart from the inside.

It was a ragged, painful death I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

Until now.

We dodged a trio of nurses strolling past the OR. The light was off in Kosta’s office.

“This way,” I said, leading Marc across the courtyard to the VIP tent.

His expression was tight, focused. “I wonder if Kosta’s in there.”

Kosta might stop me. He might try to bargain with Nerthus or save Argus if it came to that. Hell, Marc might, too. I was ready to murder a general, the son of a goddess. The punishment would be brutal.

And eternal.

No sense being polite. We didn’t knock. I doubted Marc even considered it. He pushed open one flap and I did the other as we breezed right in.

“Kosta?” he called.

“General Argus! We need to talk,” I said, slipping my hand into my pocket, loosening the knife from the scrub top I’d bloodied saving that poor soldier’s life.

It was all coming together.

Death came with a gift. This knife must be it.

I swore I’d never influence the prophecies, but when they predicted doom, and when I had been given the means to prevent it … well, it didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out what had to be done.

The inside of the tent was plush, luxurious. Low couches were scattered across the main room. Ornate copper-and-glass lamps cast eerie shadows. A fountain gurgled, which made it impossible to hear any noises the general might make if he drew his own weapon, or if he had already made his escape.

Curtains at the back fluttered and Eris strolled out wearing a chain-metal halter dress. The silver loops did nothing to hide her body. Her pink lips twisted into a frown. “The bastard’s not here.”

“What? Your son?”

Marc moved behind her, searching the room and the curtained area beyond.

We didn’t have time for her games. Right now the spy could be delivering our samples, giving our notes to scientists bent on Armageddon.

Golden hair, like spun silk, cascaded over her shoulders and curled at the tips of her breasts. “The little weasel ran off with Nerthus. Can you believe it?”

Actually, I could.

I stood for a moment, stunned.

Eris planted her hands on her hips. “That bitch,” she said, watching Marc as he emerged from the back room. “I thought she was after you.”

“She was,” I ground out. And now it seemed she’d used sex to lure Argus.

“Back room’s clear,” he said to me. “Where are they?” he demanded.

Eris threw out her perfectly sculpted arms. “How should I know where that cradle-robbing bimbo took him? She seduced him right under my nose!”

Well, he was the son of chaos.

“Did he take the notes on the venom?” Marc pressed her.

“Of course he did,” she said, her voice rising. “I got him that generalship. I arranged for the downfall of Tantalus in order to get that job. Now Tantalus is down in Hades, standing in a pool of water, reaching for fruit he’s never going to get—and how does my son repay me? He betrays our side just to get up some twit’s dress!”

“Okay,” I said. Focus. “Eris, they’re going to kill every human on Earth and in limbo.” I looked her dead in the eyes. “How can we stop them?”

Her brow furrowed. “We don’t stop them.” She drew a sweaty lock of hair from between her breasts. “What’s done is done.”

Marc drew up next to her. “You can fix this, Eris. We know you can.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not so good at fixing things. Don’t get me wrong. I have a lot of fun with humans.” She ran her fingers lightly up Marc’s chest, half interested. “You in particular look very tasty.” She dropped her hand. “But what’s the point? I’m standing here with leftovers.”

“Argus is shaming his family,” I said, hoping to appeal to her pride, her vanity, anything.

She tsked, “Believe me, nobody thought he was that hot to begin with.”

Her eyes fell to the knife, still clutched in my hand. “Hello! What is this?”

My fingers tightened around the handle. “It’s mine.”

“Well, I know it’s yours,” she said, her eyes roving over the damaged tip.

It was my first, last, and only supernatural tool and I was going to use it. Somehow.

She held out her hand. “Give it. I demand tribute.”

“Why should she?” Marc demanded. His mouth curled in a saccharine smile. “Unless you help us.”

Eris let out a high giggle. “I’ll get the cradle-robbing slut. But I’m not going to start a war over it.”

Or save us.

“Now give it,” she said, wiggling her fingers. “It’s very old and it’s very pretty. Just like me.”

“I need this,” I said, growing desperate. For what, I wasn’t sure. But this dagger had come back to me. It had been part of the second prophecy. I couldn’t just hand it over to a goddess because she thought it was pretty.

Her eyes narrowed.

“Come on,” Marc said, moving between us, backing me up.

She raised her chin. “Gods, you’re cocky. I’ll bet you would have been delicious.”

“We’re not going anywhere yet,” I said, taking my place next to him. “We need to know. Where’s Argus? Where is the weapon?”

The tension in the room built, and the goddess clapped her hands together. “Ahh … I’m going to miss humans.” She rolled her eyes when we didn’t share the joke. “Fine. Meropis.”

What?

Marc towered over her. “Plato made that up.”

“You humans are so naive. Meropis is just in the realm of the gods.” She licked her lips as she eyed my weapon. “Nerthus has her scientists. She has her weapon. And now, my son.” She frowned. “He’s probably screwing her brains out.”

Marc shook his head. “There’s no way we can follow him to Meropis.”

It was legendary.

I yanked out the bloodied rag and began wrapping the knife.

“Stop,” Eris commanded.

“What? Are you going to help us?”

She drew up. “Are you threatening me?”

“Yes!”

Her eyes narrowed. “And you wonder why they want to kill the humans.”

“Back away,” I ordered.

“I want it.” Her pearly skin began to glow green. Sparks erupted from her shoulders and arms as she reached for my dagger.

She was going to smite me.

Marc rushed her and she struck him down with a slap. He went down hard against a tent post.

Smoke curled from her ears. “Nerthus’s weapon fires at dawn. You’ll be dead soon anyway. Now give me my dagger!”

Energy shot from the ends of her fingers. It slammed into the knife, numbing my hands as I gripped it for dear life. It jerked with the energy and shot it right back at her. Eris ducked as the wall behind her exploded in emerald flames.

She popped back up. “You want to burn the tent down? Fine!”

The flames shot out in all directions behind her. The roof caught. Marc rolled away from the wall. He was hurt. I didn’t know if he could walk. He certainly couldn’t run.

The roof caught fire and she laughed. Hell, why not? Fire couldn’t burn her. She stood in a circle of flame. “Mmm … feels good,” she said, running her hands over her chain-metal outfit.

“You win,” I said, backing up. “We leave. You get the knife.” I could only pray that it would follow me this time. “I’ll leave it by the front door.”

The tent burned as Marc stumbled to his feet. We waited for her to attack as we retreated. I coughed against the smoke, the rising heat.

“It doesn’t matter, you know,” Eris said, as if we were taking a stroll in the park. “You’ll be dead soon anyway. If you kept the knife, you’d just be making me wait. And Thor.” She gave a twisted, satisfied smirk.

I glanced at Marc. “God of fire and forge?”

“You should see his biceps,” she said, caressing the blade. “He’s going to love this dagger. Nerthus will be surprised, too.”

I wanted to tell her to shut the hell up.

“Why does Nerthus need Thor?” Marc asked.

“He’s her son. Thor is working up a big crystal for her. I hear it’s amazing.”

Titurate.

“This is getting better and better,” I ground out.

Or worse and worse.

Eris held the dagger to the burning sky, triumphant, as Marc and I stumbled into the dark night, dreading the dawn.

chapter twenty-six

It was over. This was it. “I can’t believe we failed.”

Nerthus had her weapon, her pathway. There was nothing we could do.

On some level, I always thought we’d find a way to beat this. That we’d survive. That we’d come together and somehow make this all right.

I gripped Marc’s arm as he led me away. Torches lined the path, crackling in the cold. “Why warn us?” Why give us a shot if there was nothing we could do?

Why make us helpless to stop the slaughter?

His gaze traveled over me, stark and raw. “Maybe we had a chance, and we failed.”

“No.” I refused to believe that. We’d come together for a reason. And it wasn’t to die.

It had never been an option.

“Stop.” I stood, throat dry, shaking as I tried to make some sense of it. We were missing something. I wasn’t doing enough.

But I’d done everything the oracles had asked. I’d given up my security and my sanity. I’d been willing to talk to a murdered soul, spy on the enemy, sacrifice my mentor. Deny my love. I’d worked days, nights, whatever it took to do the right thing.

And it wasn’t enough.

Marc took my hand. He was cold. “There’s nothing we can do now.”

Tears filled my eyes. The camp was settling down for the night. Lanterns blazed. Laughter burst from a tent nearby. My chest felt tight. “Should we warn them?”

“No.” He squeezed my hand. “Let them be happy.”

A torch bobbed toward us. As it neared, I saw Shirley smiling. “What’s up, buttercup?” Her hair was in twin braids over her shoulders. Her face fell as she drew closer. She narrowed her eyes at Marc. “Is he being an ass?”

“It’s not what you think,” I said, wiping my tears with my sleeve. “Where are you headed?”

“Margarita night,” she said, still sizing us up. “Holly got ahold of a bottle of tequila. Want to come?” she asked me.

“No,” I said, hugging her, saying good-bye to my friend. I squeezed my eyes shut. “Thanks.”

“Okay,” she said, a little confused as she patted me on the back, “well if you change your mind, we’re in Holly’s tent.”

I nodded as I let her go, afraid I’d break down if I said anything else.

They’d have one last girls’ night. They’d drink and laugh and find comfort the best way we knew down here—with one another.

“You know, Shirley can get a hangover from half a beer,” I said, sniffing. She wouldn’t even have to worry about a hangover. The weapon would detonate at dawn.

“Come on,” Marc said, handing me a torch. “We need to hit the lab.”

“Why?” It was trashed. There was nothing left.

He was purposeful, intense as we made our way toward the cemetery. “I keep thinking there’s something we need to do. We can’t just let this happen.”

Yes, well, “Unless we can travel to some mythical land, I don’t see how we can stop this.”

We hadn’t even known Meropis was real until five minutes ago. It’s not like we could book a ship. Or find it on a map.

Meanwhile, they had our breakthrough, a deadly virus, and a fully functioning weapon.

I dodged graves, trying to keep up as Marc quickened his pace. It was hopeless. Impossible. “Even if we could make it there, how do we stop a god?”

“Two gods,” he said, as if he were trying to figure it out. “And Argus.”

“My thoughts exactly,” I said, as we hit the minefield.

I stopped for a moment, taking it in.
Merde.
I couldn’t believe I was actually going to miss this place. I should plant one last prank, a reminder for after I was gone, but I didn’t have it in me.

Our torches cast shadows as we passed the Hickey Horns van, the burned-out ambulance. “Look, Marc, we don’t need to spend our last night beating our heads against the wall over something we can’t change.”

He spun on me. “What? Do you just want to die? Give up on the whole human race?” His face was a mask of pain, regret. “How can you quit?”

“Why can’t you fail?”

He stared at me as if I’d gone off the deep end.

I shook my head. “We can’t stop this. We can’t change this.” I strode up to him. “And you won’t admit it. You can’t stand the fact that you’re not in control. We’re not in control.”

He looked at me, stunned. “We can be,” he said, not convincing either one of us.

“No, Marc,” I said, planting my torch as the truth slammed into me. I was raw with it. “It’s all about control with you. It has been ever since you set foot in limbo.” I’d never seen it so clearly. Maybe I’d never let myself. “You couldn’t stand being here so you manipulated it.”

“That’s not true,” he ground out.

But it was. He’d found a way not to care. “You played dead.”

He was furious. “We. Settled. That.”

I met him, matched him snarl-for-snarl. “No. We. Didn’t.” We stood inches apart, like two coiled snakes poised to strike. “You wanted me back, but on your own terms. You wanted to see me, and laugh with me. Fuck me. But you don’t want to give anything up.”

“I was being practical,” he thundered, breaking away.

I followed him into the darkness. “You were holding back. You can’t let up an inch. You can’t let yourself feel what it’s like to have your heart ripped out.”

We were headed for the lab, like two fools, stumbling through the blackened debris. “Even now, you can’t give it up,” I called after him. “You want to spend our last night alive, running on some hamster wheel, just so you don’t have to feel.”