The Underworld (Rhyn Eternal) (12 page)

“You are the Keeper of Souls, a compassionate Death of human origin who understands life better than a deity ever could. If you cannot remember how to forgive, who can?”

Gabriel twisted, not realizing how deep in thought he was until he saw Andre, the eldest of Rhyn’s brothers who sat on the Immortals’ Council That Was Seven. The night-skinned Immortal was dressed practically for the often-stormy underworld in cargo pants and a windbreaker. His tanzanite colored eyes glowed brightly. Andre rarely appeared anything other than polished and put together. He offered a small smile.

“How long have you been standing there?” Gabriel asked.

“Long enough to hear you figure out what’s wrong.”

“When I became a deity, I never expected to have to bare my soul to so many people. Fate was one thing, but I’m even taking advice from the Dark One now.”

Andre chuckled and drew nearer. The peacemaker among the constantly fighting Immortals, he had a calming influence even over a deity like Gabriel. “It’s not a bad thing, Gabriel. If I learned one thing over the years, it’s that everyone has some unique knowledge that can help you somewhere along the line.”

“You’re being the diplomat.”

“Not at all. It’s true.”

“I wish I had your patience and understanding of the world, Andre.”

Andre was quiet for a moment, and Gabriel assessed he was debating how to respond. “Gabriel, what you call patience and understanding were honed out of a great deal of pain. You do not want to go through what I did in order to gain this level of patience and understanding.” The quiet note in the Immortal’s voice was like the man himself: much, much more than what was apparent.

“I know much of your history, Andre,” Gabriel said. “I mean no disrespect for what you’ve been through. Someone like you seems more capable of handling all this. I seem to be failing.”

“It’s a matter of perspective, Gabe. I see you as succeeding in every challenge you’ve faced.”

“It’s not enough. The underworld is reflecting my pain. I’m destroying it by not knowing how to be the man it needs me to be,” he said in a hushed tone. “It’s a lethal cycle.”

“Fix it,” Andre suggested. “You alone have that power. Stop the cycle, forgive yourself for your past and move on.”

“Is it that easy?” Gabriel gritted his teeth to hear the Dark One’s advice echoed by someone he respected so much more.

“I imagine it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, which is probably why the underworld is requiring you to do it,” Andre said. “You must prove you can overcome anything, even your past, your emotions and the hold they still have on you, in order to be the deity the souls need you to be.”

Your past, your emotions and the hold they still have on you
. Gabriel mulled on this phrase, the truth in the words touching him to his core. He’d done his best to change his view of his duty and world, to shift from loyal soldier accustomed to taking orders to the commander giving them. To an extent, he felt he’d succeeded. He was used to controlling every part of his day and world, within the confines of his duty.

Since becoming Death, he’d felt like he and his world were spinning out of control.

Andre was right. The souls and underworld deserved someone better than he’d been. Someone selfless enough to walk through the door in his bedchamber that he’d avoided out of resentment and fear of becoming someone he hated. Someone who wasn’t trapped by his past.

How he felt no longer mattered, not when the souls were suffering as they were.

“When you say it, it doesn’t sound that bad.” Gabriel flashed him a half smile and rose.

“I imagine you already know what to do?” Andre asked curiously.

“Stay out of my head, Immortal. I raised you but can render you dead-dead just as fast,” Gabriel growled in warning.

“It was a guess only.” Andre sounded entertained. “Whatever it is, I suggest you find a way to knock it out before things get worse.”

Gabriel’s thoughts went first to his estranged mate and then to the door he was supposed to walk through in order to become a true deity. Of the two of them, he’d rather take a chance on the door. It was much harder for him to determine how to handle his anger and hurt, let alone cut that emotional baggage out of his life completely.

Putting aside his emotions, he refocused on what they needed to be doing. “You alone or is Tamer with you?”

“He’ll be along shortly, I believe.”

“Wait here.” Gabriel strode to the edge of the forest and paused, not about to smack into another wall of branches, if the Lake wasn’t done with him yet. “The only way I can fix things is if you let me through,” he whispered to the forest.

He waited. The forest sounded normal. Taking one step then a second forward, he almost sighed. Nothing moved to block his path. It was one thing to know what was wrong, quite another to understand how to fix it.

Human emotions weren’t that easy to manipulate. The resentment he felt towards his mate seemed too much to overcome, and yet, he knew he’d never stopped loving her, either, no matter what she’d done to him over the course of tens of thousands of years. No matter how many other men she fucked in the bed she shared with him or how she constantly manipulated him.

The problem was human Deidre. Sacrificing an innocent woman, one Gabriel had started to fall for, only to have her ripped away and the greatest lie in the universe revealed. He was able to forgive almost anything his mate did to
him
, but to forgive Past-Death for hurting Deidre …

His feelings became a jumbled mess whenever he tried to process it. Deidre had found a home with the Dark One, but that didn’t alleviate the guilt and responsibility Gabriel felt.

How do you let go of the past that easily?

How did he accept his fate when it meant being okay with what past-Death had done?

Because the goddess who did those things is not the same as the human that replaced her.
The thought wasn’t new, but it was getting easier to swallow.

As if hearing the thought, a path cleared before him, leading towards the palace.

“That’s the key, isn’t it? It’s not just whatever is in that room. It’s taking a chance on someone I already love.”

The trees went silent for a split second then began to move again.

“You’re a shitty matchmaker,” he told the underworld. “You ready, Andre?” he called over his shoulder.

“I am.”

“Come with me.” Gabriel started walking. “There’s something I have to do at the palace. I’ve been fighting my fate since the first day and unknowingly made things worse. I’ve gotta fix it.”

“Gabriel.”

“I know. I should’ve –”

“Gabriel. The trees don’t want me following you.”

He turned to see the path blocked once more, dividing him from Andre.

“I guess I need to do this alone,” he said under his breath. “Andre, find Rhyn and Darkyn. Make sure they make it to the palace without gutting each other.”

“I will do my best.”

“I’ll see you all there.” Gabriel shook his head, amused at how vocal his underworld was being after shutting him out for so long. He needed all the help he could get right now, if he was going to make things right once and for all.

The pride of a master who wished his domain to acknowledge him stirred once more, and he considered how to handle his challenges. Smashing everything between him and the palace sounded fantastic.

Except he’d never make it in one piece. Not only that, but every time he tried to fight to get somewhere, he ended up knocked on his ass. No, he’d have to take a much more subdued approach to execute his priorities. First the door he’d feared entering, then his mate and finally, the rebelling dealers.

I was ready to forgive her.
The thought dragged his focus from the underworld into his thoughts once more. He’d been ready to move on with past-Death despite her admission of how she condemned Deidre to Hell.

She’d one time despised the human side of him. She’d not only gotten over it, but became what she hated most in order to be with him. Likewise, he’d have to accept the ugly side of who she had been if he was to fall again for who she’d become.

He dwelled on it, instincts monitoring his surroundings for any sign of danger. Content to let his mind think, his innate abilities warned him, and he whirled. One of his death dealers, a man built like a bowling ball, stood a safe distance behind him.

“Tymkyn,” he said, straightening out of his fighting stance.

“Hey, boss. You’re hard to track.”

Gabriel eyed him, aware he didn’t know which death dealers he was able to trust yet. “Mind check,” he said, referring to the method he used to ravage a dealer’s mind to make sure he was loyal.

Tymkyn bowed his head without hesitation.

Gabriel rested a hand on his head briefly before removing it. “I thought we’d lost you. You went silent.”

“I couldn’t get out!” Tymkyn exclaimed. Short, wide and ugly with a bulbous nose, the strong death dealer was Gabriel’s best tracker, capable of navigating the changing landscape of the moody underworld. “Wasn’t going through Hell again.”

Gabriel smiled at his trusted hunter’s distraught tone.

“Rhyn told me to find you.” Tymkyn’s expression changed, grew proud and beaming. “There are sixty death dealers here who refused Harmony’s takeover. They’re all that remain of the hundred that are loyal to you. She’s been systematically tracking them and killing them.”

“Sixty.” Gabriel kept his tone even.

The number made some part of him weep. There were over a thousand death dealers in existence. About forty were trapped in the human realm, another few picked off by demons. Only sixty in the underworld remained loyal.

Tymkyn waited, excited by the news that filled Gabriel with sorrow.

Because, when this was over, those rebelling would be killed, which meant he’d experience another crisis trying to collect souls. It was more than that, though. It was the knowledge he’d have a hand in killing seven to eight hundred of the men and women who had become his colleagues over the years.

My duty is to something much higher. The souls,
he reminded himself.

“That’s good, Tymkyn,” he said. “Great job locating them.”

Tymkyn’s smile widened. “I will take you to them!”

“No,” Gabriel said quickly. “I cannot stray from my path right now.”

“But you’re headed to the palace with all of Harmony’s dealers. Alone.”

“I’m Death.”

Tymkyn snorted. “You can still take a sword to the heart. Let me go. It would be the greatest honor to become a member of your vanguard.”

Gabriel clapped him on the shoulder, the man’s earnestness touching him. “You will, when this is over. For now, I have a matter I have to take care of before I attack them outright. Can you bring the others to my cabin?” he asked, referring to the tiny, wooden home where he’d lived, outside the palace, for hundreds of years. “Stay hidden and await my signal.”

“I’d like to object, boss.”

“I know, and I thank you for your concern. Consider this an order.”

Tymkyn frowned. “I’ll gather them now. What will your signal be?”

“I have a feeling you won’t be able to miss it,” Gabriel said with some humor, knowing how big of a bang he’d make when Harmony’s men realized he was in their midst. “Quickly.”

Tymkyn nodded and dashed into the brush.

Pleased to have one dealer remaining as his ally, Gabriel started towards the palace once more. There were secret passages only Death and her lover of a few thousand years knew about. He’d take them to reach the closet where his magic lay waiting.

And then he’d issue an ultimatum to Harmony and her dealers: lay down their arms or face the wrath of Death and Hell.

Andre walked for three hours along the trail leading from the Lake of Souls in the direction the demons had gone. With a knack for tracking the creatures, he knew when he was close, even before the two appeared on the path before him.

Darkyn and Rhyn were in the middle of a stare down with one another, growling and poised as if for a fight, despite the fact they had neither the time nor luxury of postponing their real mission to see which creature was stronger.

Andre wasn’t surprised by the scene. Demons were temperamental creatures, prone to acting out of instinct primarily and viewing the world and everything in it as either belonging to them or beneath them. They were hardest to deal with when hungry, agitated or hunting, circumstances when their emotions were rawer than usual, and logic was generally lost on them. These two in particular were immensely powerful – and stubborn.

Andre’s urge to calm those around him was born more out of necessity than anything else. A powerful empath, negative emotions clung to him like his shadow. He picked up on the feelings of others even without diving into their minds, and their instability managed to disrupt his own inner peace. It was like swallowing poison.

The eldest of the Immortals on the Council That Was Seven, Andre had honed his ability and self-control over thousands of years. What once drove him over the edge was now simply a nuisance. He hadn’t dulled his sensitivity, simply learned to bear the fruits of feeling what those around him did with patience and compassion.