The Underworld (Rhyn Eternal) (16 page)

“Hasn’t done you any good so far,” he pointed out. “If you could access Gabriel’s magic, wouldn’t you have been able to get us out of here?”

“I got us out of our cell.” She eyed him. “Why are you so concerned for my safety now?” He had a point, even if she didn’t like it. She didn’t remember enough about the souls or closet to know whether or not a human mate of a powerless deity was able to talk to the souls in the caldron.

“I like not being dead-dead, and you are the best way to ensure I stay that way.”

A tear she didn’t feel dripped into the waters beneath her hand. Past-Death wiped her cheeks, uncertain why her human body thought now was a good time to cry.

Because I can see everything I gave up.
The knowledge of the universe. The power of a goddess. The only thing missing from the closet: Gabriel.

The tears came too fast for her to prevent them, and sobs wracked her tiny frame. Past-Death sank against one of the walls and drew her knees to her chest, burying her face in her hands. She wept for all she’d chosen to give up. She wept for what had slipped through her fingers. Her future was bleak, lonely and depressing and she was helpless to change it. Even if she was able to earn back the trust of good people like Gabriel and Deidre, did she deserve it? Was she worth the time and effort it’d take them to forgive her?

Or was she better off leaving their lives for good? Gabriel was her mate by Immortal law, but she wasn’t going to spend a lifetime with someone who didn’t want to be with her and could never love her, even if he stayed.

The idea she’d truly lost him had never seemed real before now, and it was a thought she didn’t think she could live with. She’d risked everything to love him the way she thought he deserved – and lost.

Past-Death cried until she was too tired to continue then pulled out one of the meat pies from her pocket to nibble on. There was some relief in sobbing, but it hadn’t helped her resolve any of her issues.

How did someone like human Deidre handle a situation like this, where there seemed to be no real hope?

Silver lining
. Past-Death dwelled on the thought she’d heard others use when talking about human Deidre. The Dark One’s mate had managed to make a relationship with a demon work, had spent years with a terminal brain tumor and almost died several times when she entered the Immortal world.

She did it by looking for the good in everything, and Past-Death closed her eyes to think hard. Where was the good in her situation?

“I have nothing else to lose,” she said for her ears only. She could start over, prove to herself and Gabriel that she was capable of being a better person. If there was one thing she learned from Deidre, it was that the human-turned-demon never lost hope.

Gabriel had loved her for so long, wasn’t it possible he might one day love her again? If she became the person he deserved, the kind of human she needed to be?

Jared was pacing, his attention on the door. “Before you start that shit again, why not come with me to see what’s out here?”

“Why?”

“Because I think we will both be pleasantly surprised. And I need you to get back in here.”

Past-Death sighed no longer caring whether or not he was setting her up to be eaten or killed. “I doubt there’s anything there that will surprise me.”

“I bet there is.”

“You willing to make a deal?”

“Yes. I bet something out there will surprise you, in exchange for you getting me a snack.”

“Is that all you think about?” she grumbled. “Fine. Same small print as before.” She climbed to her feet, drained and miserable.

With a nod, Jared opened the door to her bedchamber.

Deidre winced at the sight of the trashed room that had been hers. Seeing the damage didn’t sting quite as much this time, though her gaze strayed once again to the jewelry box. Knowing the soul wasn’t there, she resisted the urge to check again.

Human doubt. It was worse than pretty much every other emotion she’d learned about so far.

Jared didn’t venture too far ahead of her, as if suspecting she was going to make a run for the closet and lock him out of it.

The bedchamber was quiet, the door to the bathing room open. Steam curled out of the door and clung to the ceiling of the bedchamber. The entrance gaped open. There were no sounds of pursuit or death dealers in the hallway outside.

“What is it?” she whispered. “What do you think will surprise me?”

“First, do you have weapons up here?”

She started to answer then stopped and looked around. She didn’t – but Gabriel had kept a small arsenal in a wardrobe. “Actually, there might be. Gabe kept some of that ungodly shit there.” She pointed then started to make her way towards the wardrobe.

In her path, Jared appeared to be transfixed on something. He didn’t move when she approached or respond to her answer. Impatiently, she drew abreast of him and pushed at him, not wanting to venture from the narrow path through the rubble and debris that remained of her trip.

He wasn’t moving.

Past-Death climbed over a few chunks of petrified wood to pass him before she, too, stopped to stare at what had his attention.

From this angle, she was able to see the bodies in the bathing chamber and how the hot springs now bubbled red. It wasn’t the bloodied corpse closest to the door that caught her attention but the collection of skeletons littering the bathing chamber and even her bedchamber, near the door.

Puzzled, she walked over to the skeleton in front of the entrance and knelt beside it. The man had been reduced to bone and clothing. “I should know what did this,” she said, mentally battering at the blockade in her mind that kept her memories from her. “But it’s been more than twenty six years ago. I’m not surprised, though, demon.”

“What?”

She twisted, glaring at Jared. “What is wrong with you? Help me figure out what this is or go get weapons or something.”

He was smiling. “You don’t see it.”

“The bones?”

“No.” He indicated the bathing chamber by tilting his chin towards it. “You know what tears out a man’s throat like that?”

She rose and moved to get a better look. One of the death dealers had his throat ripped out, and the deep scratches on his face and arms were visible. “Ugh. Looks like the work of one of you sick demons.”

“Only two demons in the palace,” he said, satisfied.

“You and …who?”

“Deidre.”

“Oh, no. She’s way too …” Past-Death patted the air, seeking the right word. “Soft. I’d believe me capable of that before I’d consider her.”

Jared strode forward, pausing by the wardrobe containing clothing. He fished something off the ground and lifted it.

Past-Death frowned. It was Deidre’s Hell dress.

“She’s a demon, the mate of the Dark One. I think she’s learning her power,” Jared said, far too satisfied by the discovery for past-Death’s comfort. “Surprised?”

It was hard to deny the idea, especially with Deidre’s dress in her bedchamber. Past-Death was pensive for a moment, unable to shake the sense of guilt in her. Her actions had turned Deidre into a demon. Was there any part of the sweet, innocent human that would survive Hell?

Or was it like she was learning: she was still very much herself, just … different in a few ways. Weaker. Less able to control her world. More willing to trust something intangible like hope, maybe even love.

“If true, yes,” past-Death said. “So now I owe you what, a hand?”

“Whatever.”

“It won’t be mine.”

“I’m fine with that.”

“Well, that doesn’t explain the skeletons, unless that’s a trick of Darkyn’s no one knows about that Deidre picked up?” she asked, turning to the wardrobe with weapons.

Jared shook his head and growled. “No. It makes me think we are better off in the closet.”

“I didn’t think demons were cowards.”

“I’m not a coward. A survivor. You seem to forget you aren’t immortal anymore. As a demon in the underworld, I’ve got the same chance of surviving as a puny human, except I can fight.”

“Whatever, demon. Is this what you’re looking for?” She threw open the doors of the wardrobe. Gabriel kept a plethora of weapons he’d mastered over the years: swords and knives of different sizes and different blades, axes and maces, whips, bos, nun chucks … There were exotic weapons she didn’t know the names of he’d likely found in the fairy realm of Elisia, demons’ weapons in black metal, and a few other ancient human weapons.

“I’m in love,” Jared breathed. He pushed her unceremoniously out of the way and gazed at the collection, wide-eyed and drooling again. “Most of these are collector’s pieces.”

“Pick what you want,” she said, unconcerned. “If we don’t make it out of here alive, it won’t matter what those things are worth.”

He murmured and marveled, needing no audience, as he picked up a weapon to study it, replaced it with reverence demons showed only for tools of killing, and moved to another.

Past-Death returned to the pile of skeletons. “I know what did this.” But thinking about it made her head hurt.

She’d seen Deidre run away with a young woman, no doubt a deity. One capable of doing
this.

“C’mon.” Jared gripped her arm and hauled her up. “You need to practice.”

“Practice what?” she grumbled.

“Killing.” He pushed her arms up and wrapped a leather belt with delicate filigree around her waist, this one containing sheathes for a few weapons he’d lined up on a chunk of marble.

There was a time when a single touch caused men to drop at her feet. Past-Death had never feared taking a life; it had been a sacred duty, one she performed up until the day she left. Death was sacred, as was life, though she doubted she was going to like the way demons killed.

“Short sword, axe, and knife. These are Elisian, made for the fairy warriors who are about your size.” Jared held up each one as he spoke before placing it in its respective sheath. “You’re in luck, cupcake. There are a few dead dealers in the bathing chamber waiting for you to practice.”

He wore his own collection of weapons, much larger than hers. Sheathing the last, he pushed her towards the bathing room.

“So barbaric,” she complained. Past-Death stepped over rivulets of blood, disappointed by the amount of blood that tainted the hot springs pink. “It’ll take a lot of work to get the blood out of there.”

“The Elisian metal is light enough for someone as weak as you.”

She glared at him.

“We’ve got a few bodies. Try chopping off arms or something,” Jared suggested.

“Really? This is your plan?”

“Listen, cupcake, it’s easier to do when someone is already dead-dead. You can make mistakes here. You can’t when they’re alive.” He drew a dagger as he spoke and bent down, slicing off the ear of a dead dealer. “Lots of skeletons. Whatever did it works fast.”

“I noticed that, too.” Past-Death took in the death. “Ten skeletons, four other. Only one looks like a demon did it. These three look like they just fell over dead.”

“A demoness learning her magic. She can kill with a touch. This one was personal,” he assessed, standing over the dealer with the ravaged body. “Maybe this skeleton-maker was in danger.”

Past-Death wasn’t certain how to explain it. Until she saw Deidre again, she wasn’t about to assume the sweet girl could do anything like this.

“Me, however …” She gazed down at the body at her feet. “I think I can.” Death was second nature to her. She understood it differently as a human and had the compelling need not to cause too much pain. She’d never understood the difference between a quick and slow death or why so many begged her for a quick one, when she was a deity.

It was because humans and Immortals were blessed with the ability to feel the softness of clothing, the warmth of sunlight. Their bodies were sensitive and delicate, the sensations so deliciously intense, like the way Gabriel smelled or how his hands felt skimming down her naked skin.

Having been attacked by a demon, it made sense to her now that pain was as powerful as pleasure to creatures so sensitive to their environments.

“Elisian weapons are specially designed … to require less … effort,” Jared explained, gnawing on the ear he’d chopped free.

“You’re disgusting,” she muttered.

“Better his ear than yours.”

She grimaced at his display and drew the axe. With a head the size of her palm and delicate designs carved into the staff, it appeared more like a decorative piece than anything else. It was as light as a stick, and she swung it around in front of her face. The blade appeared to be sharpened to the point of becoming translucent.

“You sure this is meant to be used in battle?” she asked.

“Positive. Test it. Hack off that one’s foot.”

Her attention went to the dealer nearest her. She bent over, raised the axe, and drove it downward. Expecting to feel resistance, she braced her body and almost fell over when it sliced through the ankle with no effort.

“Wow.” Past-Death regained her balance and straightened, hope blossoming. “You’re right. I can defeat an army with this. We may not die here after all.”

Jared snorted. “If they were already dead, maybe. But you have to not get killed first in order to take out one of your trained killers.”

“There’s no Elisian armor?”

“None. Toss me that foot and we’re even.”

With a grimace, she picked it up by the big toe and threw it to him.

“How ‘bout its head? I’ll keep it for later.”

“Chop off your own head,” she snapped. “I’m not supporting your filthy demon habit.”

“You who shove a whole animal into an oven find my habit filthy?”

Past-Death replaced the axe at her waist and drew the sword, intent on trying out all her new toys.

“Someone is coming.”

Her gaze flew up.

Jared had gone rigid, clenching the ear between his teeth as he reached for a dagger.

“Back to the closet,” she said and hurried out of the bathing chamber.

Whatever Jared sensed, she did not, but demons had the instincts of animals, not humans.

Jared was quick to follow, and she opened the door to the secret room, leading them in.