The Underworld (Rhyn Eternal) (26 page)

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Mine belongs to Hell.”

Harmony missed a step. “You swore!”

“Darkyn’s mate swore. I supplied the location,” she said, referring to the deal Deidre made with Harmony before the death dealer kidnapped them.

“It won’t matter soon. You’re going to tell me where Gabriel’s soul is, and I’m going to destroy it and then destroy you the way someone should have thousands of years ago.”

Past-Death fell quiet. As uncertain as she was about how to be a good human, she was confident about how she had performed as a goddess. The underworld had flourished, and the souls were safe during the entirety of her reign.

Well, until the last few days.

“If you don’t tell me, Gabriel will,” Harmony added. “There is nothing he won’t do for you. I watched him lust over you for years, follow you around like a fairy does flowers. Pitiful. Weak. Human.”

Past-Death winced, fearing his devotion was true at one point but fearing more it wasn’t anymore. There was a time when she thought the same about Gabriel, that his humanity was a vulnerability.

“You’re wrong about him being weak,” she voiced. “He’s the strongest of you all, the only one who didn’t walk away from the souls and lose faith in the underworld the way you did.”

The familiar flash of heartache almost crippled her. She didn’t want to think about how Gabriel was going to react. Though recalling the way he’d looked at her in the sacred closet, how gently he spoke to her about caring for her, how he’d held her …

He’d cooperate, not out of weakness, but because he did still love her.
Love isn’t weakness,
she realized. It was the opposite: a source of strength, honor and self-sacrifice. Secrets Gabriel had known his whole life that she was finally learning.

They reached the roof, and past-Death took in the situation with astonishment. The bodies of death dealers littered the rooftop while a safe distance away, Gabriel and the demon Jared fought the two dozen remaining. Gale strength winds whipped her hair in front of her face, and she pushed it aside, entranced by Gabriel.

She watched her mate move, awed and aroused by his sheer strength. Gabriel swung the sword as if it was an extension of him, his masterful eye, agility and otherworldly instincts making him an unusually graceful, completely unstoppable killing machine. Thick muscles moved smoothly beneath his dark clothing. His biceps bulged beneath the t-shirt he wore, his roped forearms chiseled and rippling the same way the muscles of his back did.

He’s so beautiful.
Had she ever really noticed it? Or did she see it completely anew each time she saw him? Why did it take her losing him and her soul for her to realize a man as honorable and amazing as he was wasn’t going to be manipulated into love?

It was then she noticed how many dealers had already fallen. Past-Death gave a laugh of sheer mockery. “I told you – send two hundred more!”

“I’ll do one better. I’ll send three hundred more.” Harmony tossed her head to one of those following and shoved past-Death forward.

She landed hard on her knees and grimaced, twisting to sit on her backside instead.

The storm approaching from the east drew her gaze, and her breath caught. Past-Death stumbled to her feet and shifted away from the landing of the stairwell crowded by death dealers to get an unobstructed look.

It was devouring everything in its path, chewing a part the underworld and destroying it. She glanced in the direction of the Lake of Souls, whose glow was visible from the palace roof. Panic and fear shot through her at the prospect of what happened to all the innocent souls if they were swept up and crushed by the storm.

Deidre.
Past-Death wasn’t certain which direction her twin, Rhyn and even Darkyn had escaped in, but she found herself hoping that at least two of the three hadn’t gone east.

“Fix this, Gabriel,” she whispered, overwhelmed by the sight of the monstrosity headed their direction. “Only you can.”

Harmony snatched her arm once more and turned her to face Gabriel once more. Another forty death dealers had moved onto the roof, and Harmony started forward, taking past-Death with her.

When she was close enough, she stopped and shouted, “Gabriel!”

The wind took her words. She released past-Death and moved closer, into his line of sight.

Past-Death shifted away from the dealers, waiting for a chance to run for it to open up.

Gabriel twisted and met her gaze. After a lingering look, he lowered his sword and straightened from his fighting stance. Harmony waved off those dealers waiting to face him, and past-Death saw Gabriel and Harmony talk for a moment without hearing anything. His dark gaze remained on her, not Harmony.

Past-Death studied him, regret in her gut once more as she realized how bad their situation was. She regretted so much of what she’d done to exacerbate the situation, but there was one thing she began to understand was worth it all: the chance to be with Gabriel.

Harmony strode back to her and wrenched her forward, dagger at her neck. Past-Death leaned back instinctively from the razor sharp blade, not trusting the angered death dealer to keep it steady with the harsh wind.

“One more time. Where the fuck is it?” Harmony growled.

“Harmony!” Gabriel boomed. “If you harm one fucking hair on her –”

“Tell me where it is!” Harmony shouted back.

“I don’t know! No one does.”

“Bullshit.” The woman’s desperation was clear in her gaze. “You will tell me!” She turned her attention to past-Death, digging the knife into her neck.

Past-Death met her gaze. “You know what, Harmony? I do know where it is. But I won’t tell you. Kill me, and you can rot in Hell right beside me.”

“Deidre!” Gabriel called sharply. “Tell her –”

Harmony wrenched past-Death’s head back. “Say hello to Darkyn you bitch.”

Past-Death closed her eyes. In the moment before death, she was certain of one thing.

She’d never, ever betray her Gabriel, not for power or her life. This was what love was: putting someone else above her own interests, something Gabriel had done to her his whole life.
I understand now.
The realization made her want to sob that it took her death for her to understand what was truly worth living.

Lightning slashed the sky overhead, and a burst of wind knocked her and Harmony to the ground. Stunned not to be dead, Past-Death lay still for a long moment, sucking in deep breaths of air. She started to crawl away on her knees, anxious to reach Gabriel or the safety of the palace.

Harmony snatched her and dragged her back, shoving her onto her back and climbing on top of her.

“This ends now!” the death dealer shouted, knife at past-Death’s throat.

“Holy gods and goddesses.” It wasn’t the infuriated death dealer on top of her or the bite of the blade into her neck that had past-Death’s attention, but the sky overhead.

Harmony glanced up then sat back.

Past-Death stared as the inky black tendrils of the storm snaked across the sky, writhing as if they were real. They were followed by clouds too dark to allow the smallest sliver of light through, a black hole devouring everything. Clouds dropped from the sky, snatching up death dealers and tossing them into the center of the storm, where they were completely swallowed.

The form of the remaining ogre whirled round and round in the sky above the palace until it, too, was sucked into the black hole at its center.

“Get the fuck away from my mate!” Gabriel’s roar split the air, his sword flying over past-Death’s head to impale a nearby death dealer.

Harmony ducked the dagger he threw and rolled off her, yanking more weapons free as she leapt to her feet.

Past-Death scrambled up, was pushed back by the wind, and clawed her way to her feet once more. The storm was snatching dealers off the rooftop left and right, the screams and chaos blinding her as much as the hair she couldn’t keep out of her face.

“Gabriel!” she screamed.

“Here!”

Past-Death turned in the direction she thought his voice came from, unable to tell for certain with the wind whipping sound around her. Something hot slid through her, and she touched her abdomen absently, cursing hunger pangs.

Harmony stood half a dozen feet from her, straightening from her throw.

Past-Death’s fingers fumbled over the hilt of a knife, and she looked down. The dagger protruding from her upper abdomen didn’t seem real, and she stared at the blood quickly soaking her clothing. The pain took a moment to reach her as well.

“Oh, shit,” she murmured, comprehension filtering through her. Past-Death dropped to her knees and gripped the hilt with both hands, yanking it free.

Hot pain tore through her, and she hunched over, the roar of the wind fading, replaced with the clamoring of her panicked instincts.

“Deidre!” Gabriel dropped beside her. He pulled her back against him, and she leaned into his strong body, relaxing.

“Is it bad?” she asked. The pain was growing tolerable, and black had begun to line the edges of her thoughts, like it was time for a nap.
I like naps,
she recalled. Another human experience that ranked up there with sex with Gabriel and funnel cakes. “It doesn’t feel bad.”

Gabriel said nothing, instead focused on applying pressure. Blood spurted over his hands, and she looked up at him, admiring the chiseled features of his rugged face.

“You are incredible, Gabriel,” she murmured wistfully. “Why didn’t we just … love each other and be happy?”

His gaze dropped to hers, his dark eyes scouring her face. “Is that really what you want?”

“It’s what I’ve always wanted,” she replied. “I’m sorry I made it so difficult.” She struggled to sit, wanting to talk to him face to face and suddenly confused as to why she was lying on the roof under a storm. Shouldn’t they be inside, talking?

Why did her head feel like it was sinking into sleep when she wanted to be awake?

“Be still, sweetheart. You’re hurt bad.”

“I am?” she asked, perplexed. She looked down at the blood covering his hands. “Oh, yeah. That’s right. Harmony and … Gabriel! You have to fix this storm! It’ll hurt the souls!”

“Hush,” he said, holding her more tightly to keep her from moving. “I will. You need to keep still.”

Past-Death closed her eyes with a nap. “You go do that and I’ll take a nap.”

“No, honey, stay awake.” He nudged her.

She groaned. Why did he sound so upset? She wasn’t certain. Something to do with the distant pain in her abdomen and the sound of a storm coming …

Past-Death slid into unconsciousness, content to be in Gabriel’s arms again while she slept.

“Deidre!” Gabriel nudged her again.

The bloodied woman in his arms didn’t respond. She was growing pale, her heartbeat slowing while she continued to bleed out. She wore the ring he’d gotten her thousands of years ago, a simple silver band with filigree.

“Stay with me, sweetheart,” he whispered, shaking her to try to wake her once more.

She’d been willing to die for him. Until the moment, he never thought her capable of living for anyone but herself, even when she tried.

“Stay with me,” he said more urgently, fear, panic and anger coursing through him.

A gust of wind knocked him over, and he rolled with her to keep the storm’s long arms from snatching her. Laying her out carefully, he shifted to his side and brushed her hair from her face. The underworld was crashing down around him, his longtime love dying in his arms. For a moment, he wasn’t able to think straight or quiet either of the screaming voices in his head stemming from his bonds to the underworld and his mate being under duress.

The woman he’d loved and hated his entire life, the one who made his blood race and quieted his thoughts, was dying before his eyes, this time for good. He wasn’t able to raise someone whose soul was outside his reach. The idea of losing her forever was one he’d experienced more than once. As frustrating as their relationship often was, he couldn’t escape the simple fact that he wasn’t able to live without her. He’d loved her as a goddess, and he loved her more as a human struggling to figure herself out.

Flying debris knocked him onto his back, and he stared at the black hole, almost fully over the palace.

Gabriel rolled back beside her placed her hands over her wound and pressed down, fury and heartache boiling over.

What good was being a deity, when he kept losing her? What good was being human, when his pain immobilized him? Which part of him took precedence: the one that served the souls or the one suffering heartbreak?

“I am a fucking god!” he shouted into the wind. Blinded by rage and hurt, he rose and raised his hands to the storm. “You can’t have either of them!” Cool power swept through him, and he turned to face its source, surprised at the green fog racing towards him from the direction of the Lake. The magic of the souls sang through him in billions of tiny voices, their unified chorus conveying power that made the palace beneath him quiver.

A man-sized tornado broke away from the storm and landed on the rooftop, tearing across the expanse, tossing dealers from its path as it made a beeline for one person in particular: Harmony.