Unseen Page 4

  Before Casey could take the bait, I interceded.

  “Aery, could you please take the boys to get something to eat? I’m quite certain that Kierson at least is hungry. Casey, you go too; make sure Kierson doesn’t get into any trouble while there. It is not uncommon for possessiveness of food to start a fight amid Father’s warriors. Given how much Kierson likes to eat, I fear he might inadvertently create a situation that would require mediation.”

  “So you want me to babysit?” Casey asked, fixing his dark eyes on mine.

  “Yes.”

  “You know my thoughts on babysitting.”

  “I do, but, given the likelihood of a skirmish, I thought you would welcome the opportunity to possibly kill something. It seems to do wonders for your mood.”

  Again, Casey could not contain his amusement.

  “Well, when you put it that way . . .” he replied, heading to the door. He brushed past Oz, being sure to knock his shoulder into him on the way. “We’re not done,” he added, looking behind him at the soulless angel.

  “On that we can agree.” When Oz responded to Casey’s threat, the tone of his voice sounded different than it had before. Darker. More foreboding. He sounded like the Dark One that had come for me the night he had changed into the Oz I now knew him to be. The ease with which he shifted back to that persona was unnerving. It warned of his true nature.

  A warning I seemed loath to heed.

  I watched Casey, Kierson, and then Aery file out of my bedroom, Aery looking back mischievously at Oz and me before closing the door. Perhaps entrusting the boys to her care was not the most prudent decision I had ever made, but it seemed the lesser evil when the other option was to allow Oz and Casey to fight to the death at the foot of my bed.

  “Clever way to get me alone, new girl,” Oz drawled, staring at me with a dark heat in his eyes. That, too, I recognized from the night he had changed. Pressed against the large windows of the living room in my brothers’ Victorian, he had exuded raw sexual energy and danger. I could not deny the appeal of that heady combination, though I tried. Standing alone with him in my bedroom, no barrier separating us, I now found the draw painful to ignore.

  “I wished to get Casey away, not to get you and me alone,” I said, correcting his errant observation. I kept my eyes off him while I spoke, focusing them instead on the thick wooden door at the far side of the room. Part of me begged to escape through it.

  “Such a waste,” he sighed mockingly.

  “You did not return last night as you had said you would. What kept you?” My attempt to redirect the conversation was weak at best, but necessary. I needed him to slip back into the Oz I knew him to be. That Oz I could deny—if I focused on doing so.

  “I was looking into something.” I could hear the faint squeak of my bed when he sat on it.

  “And did you find it?”

  “No.”

  “Is that to your betterment or detriment?”

  “It’s nothing to me at all,” he said, shifting his weight on the bed behind me. Without thinking, I turned to see him leaning back on his elbows, his upper body highlighted gloriously in that position. When my eyes finally met his face, the smile I found there let me know that he had accomplished precisely what he had endeavored to.

  “Then why go looking for something that is of no consequence to you?”

  “Because it is of great consequence to you,” he answered, his eyes narrowing. With that, he pushed off the bed and stalked toward me. My breath caught for a moment, signaling just how traitorous my body had become. “Now, we have things to sort out. Answers to get so that we can leave, do we not?”

  “I have answers to get,” I corrected as he walked past me without a beat of hesitation.

  “One and the same, new girl. One and the same. But you’ll figure that out soon enough. For now, let’s go get those answers you came for.”

  He exited the room, turning toward the Great Hall. Not knowing where he was going or who he was after, I felt compelled to follow. Perhaps the Dark One knew far more than I had ever imagined. The thought was not overly surprising. When it came to Oz, expecting the unexpected was an excellent plan.

  Perhaps it was also the only plan.

  3

  Oz led the way through the maze of tunnels as though he was suddenly at home in the Underworld. As though he had been there before. It made me question what he had been up to in the night while I slept. The swagger with which he carried himself was no different than it had been in Detroit, but that day there was an edge to it. An urgency. I wanted to know why.

  “You seem rather keen on my getting what I have returned here for. Is there a reason?”

  “I have reasons for everything I do, new girl,” he tossed over his shoulder. “I thought you’d know that by now.”

  “Perhaps I should have asked if there was a particular reason.”

  “There is.”

  There was finality in his answer, implying that regardless of what the reason was, he would not be sharing it with me.

  I found this disagreeable.

  Stopping in the middle of the corridor, I held my ground, waiting for him to realize I was no longer trailing him like a compliant minion. The second he did, he turned to stare me down with narrow, disapproving eyes. I had angered the Dark One.

  “There was a brief time when I found your indignant behavior amusing. It is amusing no longer.”

  “And there was a brief time when I found your secrecy and deviousness of no consequence to me. That time, too, has passed.”

  “What is it you want, new girl? Full disclosure?” He laughed at his own words. “You’re never going to get that, and for good reason. It saves time.”

  “I have all the time in the world, Oz, as do you,” I countered, eyeing him acutely. “We are immortal. It is a perk of sorts.”

  “But immortality is not invincibility, is it? You did not inherit that trait like your twin did,” he reminded me. Unfortunately, there was truth in his rebuttal. “Time is your ally only when no one seeks to take it from you, Khara. I would do my best to remember that, if I were you.”

  “You think I am in jeopardy here,” I inferred.

  “I know you are in jeopardy everywhere.”

  “You have thought that ever since you realized what I was in Detroit.”

  “And I was right, if you remember correctly.”

  “You were the cause of that danger,” I noted, much to his disdain.

  “I did all in my power to keep you from harm,” he growled, stepping nearer.

  “You did, after you were backed into a corner that you could not find another way out of.”

  “You should be careful, new girl. Assumptions can be very dangerous.”

  “So can lies.”

  “I never lied to you.”

  “Convenient omissions qualify,” I argued.

  His dark eyes narrowed to angry slits.

  “There was nothing convenient about those omissions.”

  “I am inclined to agree, given that both my brothers and I would have been in far less danger had you just done what you were forced to do in the end anyway and changed me.”

  “That,” he snarled, “was for your own good.”

  “How so?”

  He opened his mouth to defend his actions but then snapped it shut, thinking better of it. With a few cleansing breaths, he was back to his smug, collected self. It was as though our conversation had not just happened. As though I had not just rattled his cage.

  “Let’s go find your father,” he said, turning to head back down the hallway. “Maybe he can give you something to satisfy your curiosity.”

  “Yes,” I agreed, my irritation boiling over into my tone. “Perhaps he will.”

  We continued on in silence until we came upon my father’s door. Before I could knock on it to gain entry, Oz stepped in front of me and intercepted my arm, pulling me close to him. There was tension in his features, his jaw muscles working furiously while he gritted his te
eth.

  “Let me make something clear to you right now,” he rumbled, keeping his voice low enough that only he and I could hear his words. “Whatever you think happened in Detroit, I can assure you there is far more to it than that.”

  “Regarding your involvement with the Stealers? Your constant and mysterious disappearances from the house when circumstances warranted your presence? Or your sudden ability to birth my wings just before the enemy threatened to take me?”

  “Yes,” he replied tightly. “All of the above.”

  I stared at him shrewdly.

  “Did you know what would happen when you called forth my wings?”

  His grip on my arm tightened.

  “No.”

  No. I contemplated that single word for a moment, absorbing the weighty stare of the one who had uttered it to me. It seemed a concession. An explanation. An apology. A warning. That tiny, simple word carried more meaning than my mind could then comprehend. Too many potential implications could be traced from his response.

  And my eyes conveyed that to him.

  Before I could say anything to him, footsteps approached from the other side of the door. Oz released me and rushed past, disappearing from sight around the corner in the hallway. I rubbed my arm where he had held it captive, suddenly feeling cold and uncertain. My mind reeled with possibilities.

  Oz had not known what would happen when he changed me on the rooftop that night. I tried to keep you from this fate, he had said. I did not wish for it to come to this. At the time, I had taken his words to mean that he did not want to thrust me into a world that had scorned him. A life that he was loath to return to. But now, that thinking seemed so erroneous. It caused me to question what else I might have been wrong about and how that error in judgment might have harmed more than helped me.

  While my father opened the door before me, I came to a painful realization.

  Oz was right.

  Assumptions were indeed dangerous.

  4

  “You seem distant, my princess,” Hades said softly.

  “Sorry, Father,” I hastily replied, jarring myself away from the thoughts in my head.

  “No need to apologize. Did you come here to see me?”

  “I did. May I?”

  “Of course,” he replied, stepping backward into the room to allow me entrance. “Khara, is something wrong? You just . . . seem so distracted since your return. You are different somehow, barring the obvious.” He gestured to my back, acknowledging where my wings should have been.

  “Different,” I repeated, trying the word on to see if it suited me. “Yes. I am different now.”

  “How so?”

  The question seemed so innocuous. So simple. And yet, I felt ill-equipped to answer it. I walked past him and into his lofty office where he and his minions would meet to plot and debrief each other about Underworld matters. In the center was a massive wooden table that extended for almost the full length of the room. There were countless seats nestled around it. I made my way to one of them and pulled it out, sitting on it somewhat inelegantly before folding my hands neatly in my lap. I looked up to my father while I struggled to find the words necessary to explain that which I barely understood myself.

  “I . . . I feel,” I finally said. For some, that explanation would have left them wanting, but judging by the expression on his face, Hades understood me. Nobody was closer to me than he.

  “That is quite a change for you, my princess. Do you not like it?”

  “Perhaps not. It vexes me.”

  “Because it is foreign, or because you do not weather the storm of emotions well?”

  “Both, I think.”

  “Do you not think you will adapt, just as you adapted to life here?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he came to sit beside me.

  “It seems likely, though the journey does not appeal to me.”

  He chuckled lightly.

  “No. I imagine it does not.” He reached for a crystal decanter and a tumbler from the center of the table before he poured me a glass of water and placed it before me. Then he took my hand in his, gently demanding my gaze with his stare. “Khara. Emotions are not the enemy. Feeling is not wasted energy. There is a time and place for both. You must learn the art of balancing them.”

  “Just as you have,” I observed.

  “Just as I have.”

  “Forgive me for speaking out of turn, Father, but I am not so certain that in the matter of your wife your emotions are balanced.”

  “Oh?” he inquired, a certain curiosity coloring his tone. Others would never have thought to question him on such a matter, but I was afforded a latitude that few were. I chose now to push the boundaries.

  “That is just how I see it. You may disagree.”

  “May I?” he asked, tauntingly. He seemed darkly amused by the topic at hand. “I appreciate you allowing me my own opinion in the matter.”

  “That is not what I meant,” I said in my defense before he dismissed my efforts with a wave of his hand.

  “I know it is not, Khara. I thought perhaps your sense of sarcasm would have improved with your time in Detroit. At any rate, let me address your concerns. You have undoubtedly fallen victim to the rumors that abound in this place—rumors that my wife is promiscuous. That she despises me. That she is sullen and morose when relegated to her time with me. But that is not the case. Persephone adores both me and the Underworld, of that I can assure you.

  “Love is the exception to nearly all rules, my princess. It is an emotion that is not easily balanced. All reason is lost in its presence. Should you endeavor to outmaneuver it, evade it, or deny it, you will fail,” he declared, as though he had attempted all three and suffered the same result each time. “You view me as weak when it comes to my love for her, do you not?”

  I nodded.

  “It is not weakness. It is strength. The willingness to sacrifice all for another is the ultimate act, Khara,” he said soberly. “For Persephone, I would do that in an instant.”

  “And that only supports my claim that the balance you profess to have does not exist.”

  “And when you, too, know that love one day, all that you have spent a lifetime to master will fall in an instant as well.” He gave my hand a light squeeze before releasing it and leaning back in his chair. “Until then, my princess, we shall endeavor to make you comfortable with the swell of emotions crashing inside you.”

  “They are at their worst when my brothers are near,” I offered.

  “Of course they are. You are attached to your siblings by blood and magic. It would stand to reason that your connection to them is stronger than to others.”

  “They also run rampant where Oz is involved.”

  His brow furrowed while he mulled over my observation. He appeared dismayed by my admission.

  “The Dark One has a way about him that inspires irritation.”

  “Most definitely, though I feel more than simple annoyance when he is near,” I clarified, my voice trailing slightly at the end. “It is as if he and I have a connection similar to, though different from, that between my brothers and me.”

  Again Hades was silent for a moment, pondering.

  “The Dark have dangerously attractive qualities, Khara. Make no mistake about that,” he warned. “Evil is seductive. This is one of its greatest strengths.”

  “But the connection between us was present when the darkness was not.”

  He scowled at me in response.

  “I think you are mistaken, my princess. Perhaps the dire circumstances you found yourself in while in Detroit have clouded your memory.”

  “Perhaps. Though maybe it had more to do with the emptiness.”

  “The emptiness?” he asked, his interest piqued.

  “Yes. All victims of the Soul Stealers are left with it, though I suffered only a little and it seemed to abate shortly after Oz joined me.”

  “You were attacked?” he growled, a storm brewing behind his eyes.

 
“I was. Oz slew the one that had sought to steal my soul and make me Dark.”

  “And you were left with this emptiness directly afterward?”

  “Yes.”

  “He saved you, Khara. That is the connection you feel. That and this emptiness you speak of.” He stood abruptly, pacing the room for a moment before stopping at my side while I continued to sit. “At any rate, let us no longer speak of the Dark One. He will be gone soon enough.”

  “Gone?”

  “Yes. I have made arrangements.”

  “For what, exactly?” I pressed, wanting to know what precisely Hades had planned for my ominous counterpart.

  “He is a danger, Khara. He may not be easily eliminated, but he can be easily distracted.”

  “Distracted how?” I asked, slowly rising to face my father.

  “I do not like the intensity of his gaze when he looks upon you,” he said sourly. “I have found something else to occupy his misguided attention.”

  “I think you misunderstand him,” I argued, not liking his interference in the matter.

  “I think I understand him far better than you can possibly imagine. You forget that I have had an eternity of dealings with Dark Ones. I believe I have also spent the better part of your time with me warning you of the dangers they pose. Whoever you knew him to be before is gone now. There is no changing that. No turning back time. You need to release any notion of that immediately.”

  “I am not delusional where Oz is concerned, I can assure you.”

  He pressed his lips into a tight line.

  “I wish your opinion was more convincing, Khara.”

  Before we could discuss the matter further, a knock came from the door of his office, cutting through the mounting tension.

  “Khara?” Casey growled, storming into the room without invitation. His black eyes went wide, then focused on me. Tight lines surrounded them and betrayed the anxiety he felt. “We have a situation.”

  “What, pray tell, might that be, Casey, son of Hecate?” Hades rumbled, displeased that he had been barged in on so rudely. He did not reprimand my brother’s affront directly, though, affording him that leniency. Whether he did this because he knew my brother or for my benefit, I did not know. However, I knew that Casey would not survive another infraction. Hades had been on edge since the moment I had arrived.