Unmade (Unborn Book 4) Page 6

  At the mention of Phobos, Dionysus started to laugh, the sound of it growing more maniacal with every passing moment.

  “He nearly had her,” he said, laughter tainting his words. “When she tore through this place calling her brothers’ names...he was so close.”

  Casey kicked his mouth, displeased with the prisoner’s input.

  Dionysus spat blood at his feet. “She should pray he never gets her…”

  Silence fell upon the crowd until Sean broke it.

  “Everyone upstairs,” he said. Like good soldiers, the others all filed toward the living room. Oz looked at me, and I nodded. He led the way up the steps, and I followed, Sean at my heels. He closed the door behind us, shutting the former god in the basement.

  Once upstairs, Oz relayed what he had surmised from my account of leaving the Victorian, until every wide eye in the room was on me.

  “He cannot hold her mind,” Muses said. Where the others’ expressions were filled with concern, his held awe. He walked toward me, hand drifting up to touch my face. “She broke free…”

  “And I’ll break your fucking hand if you touch her,” Oz snarled.

  “Afraid of what she might admit?” Muses asked, the malice and mischief in his eyes clear. “Or what I might see?”

  “Enough,” Sean snapped. “He wanted her to think the boys had been killed.”

  “But to what end?” Drew asked. “To drive her somewhere? To trap her with fear so he could attack?”

  “I don’t know,” Oz replied. “We likely won’t now.”

  “Is it possible that what I saw at the Hallowed Gates was a ruse as well? That he drove me from there to the Victorian?” I asked. “Do you think he was here then, watching the whole thing? Waiting to strike as I wallowed in the remains of my brothers, paralyzed with grief?”

  “Would it have worked?” Oz asked softly.

  I nodded. “I believe it almost did—until I broke his hold, as Muses said.”

  “I bet the old one downstairs might know,” Sean growled. “The gods knew the fear god far better than any of the PC ever did.”

  The basement door flew open again, and Sean stormed down to Dionysus. The rest of us followed in silence. By the time we reached them, Sean’s eyes were black as night and his demeanor completely different. Whatever had come over him made him seem like exactly who Ares would want to command the PC. His words to me suddenly made more sense—I could see how his perfect soldier had been tainted by the traits I had observed in the brother I had barely come to know.

  “Tell me about him,” Sean said, yanking the former god off the floor by the throat.

  “What is there to tell? His mind is broken—and now he comes for her.” His narrowed gaze fell on me.

  “Where is he?”

  He laughed. “I have no idea. I am not his keeper.”

  “How do we find him?”

  His laughter ceased. “Use her as bait. That would work nicely.”

  A blast of cold shot through the room as Casey stepped closer to Dionysus, his blade drawn and ready.

  “Try again,” he said, raising his dagger slowly, “because my sister isn’t bait, and she isn’t falling prey to that psycho. So you’re going to help us, or I’ll singlehandedly deliver you to the Oudeis…or wipe you from existence forever. You see, I am the son of Hecate—you know, the mistress of the dead—and I killed her, so her power is mine now, and your sorry ass belongs to the Underworld. Piss me off enough and I’ll take you there now. You’ll be back to eternal torment, with no chance to be reunited with your lover, or truly dead. Is that really what you want?”

  The truth in Casey’s words impaled the former god, and the fight in his eyes disappeared.

  Dionysus had finally been broken.

  “I don’t know where he is, but I think I can help.”

  “How?” Casey asked, his blade looming at Dionysus’ throat. “Do you know how to kill him?”

  “No—but I know who does.”

  “As do I,” I said, drawing his attention.

  “Who?” he asked.

  “Ares.”

  Casey turned back to Dionysus. “Then you are of no use to us.”

  “My patience is running thin,” Sean’s darker half said, grabbing the throat of the captive in his hand.

  “Free me and I’ll get you what you seek—”

  “Not a fucking chance,” Kierson shouted, his irritation growing.

  “Or I could just force it from you,” Muses said, stepping closer. He drew his finger along Dionysus’ jaw. “You’ve looked better, old friend. Give me what I want, and I will see what can be done for you. Fight me, and Casey will have what he wishes.” He leaned in closer to Dionysus. “And I can assure you, he’ll take his time—I’ve seen it before. It’s a sight to behold...”

  Sean stepped back and dragged Casey with him, allowing Muses room to work. Dionysus’ eyes went wide with fear. Muses stroked his face as he shushed him, the action meant to be soothing but somehow more menacing than Casey’s aggression or Sean’s dark-eyed side.

  “Now,” he said, clamping his hands around Dionysus’ face, “let’s see what you’re hiding in here.”

  Muses closed his eyes as Dionysus began to struggle. The rest of us looked on, awaiting whatever information Muses could pilfer from the former god. But it was not long before we knew something was amiss.

  The expression of pain on Muses’ face was unlike anything I had ever witnessed. His features contorted with concentration and agony. His hands shook with tension as he tried to hold on.

  “Something’s wrong,” Kierson said, stepping closer to aid his brother.

  “Let me help him,” I said, following Kierson’s lead. I reached out to place my hands over Muses’ and soon found myself knocked backward with him. He landed on top of me, his body limp and covered in sweat. When he did not make a rude remark about our position, I knew that Kierson’s observation had been right.

  Something had most definitely gone wrong.

  8

  The others soon surrounded us. Sean lifted Muses away, and Oz extended a hand to me. I ignored it and stood on my own.

  “I am fine,” I said, dusting off my pants.

  Oz’s hand fell away and he scowled. “Not sure Muses can say the same.” The crease in his forehead grew. “What the fuck was that, anyway?”

  “I thought I could help him—”

  “Yeah, I got that. But why?”

  “Because we will not be able to get the answer from Ares without an unwelcome consequence—one I am unwilling to enable.”

  “Care to share?”

  I looked to where my brothers had disappeared upstairs, then to the withered being hanging from the shackles on the wall, unconscious from whatever had just transpired. Even still, I was reticent to speak about usurping Sean in his presence—my years in the Underworld had taught me better.

  “I will tell you, I promise, but I cannot do so now.” His expression darkened further. “You must trust me, Oz. I will tell you when the time is right.”

  “Yeah,” he scoffed, headed for the stairs, “like right before it gets someone killed.”

  We joined the others upstairs to find Muses sitting on the couch, hunched over with his elbows propped on his knees, his head in his hands. The others peppered him with questions, of which he answered none. Whether he was unable or unwilling, I could not be certain; either way, the change in his demeanor was stark and unnerving.

  I walked over and sat beside him, not at all concerned by our proximity. He slowly lifted his gaze to me, and I found nothing more than confusion in his blank stare.

  “Are you well, Brother?” I asked.

  He forced a mischievous smile. “Your concern is appreciated, Sister, but I fear you’ll only anger the Dark One if you remain where you sit.”

  “I will remain as long as it suits me,” I countered, “and until I deem that you have recovered from whatever just occurred in the basement.”

  His eyes fell away at the
mention of what had happened. “Something about his mind…it’s not right.”

  “How so?” Sean asked. I looked up to find his eyes a dark shade of green, a mixture of the brother I knew and the warrior Ares had hoped to create.

  “I don’t know,” Muses replied. “It’s…it’s unreachable. It nearly killed me trying to breach it, and then it cast me out.”

  “Perhaps their reincarnation has affected their ability to be inspired,” Pierson said matter of factly.

  “I could summon Hermes,” I said, a darkness growing within me at the thought of the winged god—Hecate’s lover—the one who wished to rule in my father’s stead. “He and I have unfinished business, as it stands. We could try it on him and see if the problem is universal amongst the risen gods.”

  “That’s a solid idea,” Casey said, staring at Muses, “when you’re up to it.”

  Muses scowled at our brother and rose. “Bring him to me now.”

  “Maybe you should take a quick breather before you nearly get yourself killed again,” Kierson said. His sentiment only fueled Muses further.

  “I said, bring him to me now!”

  “Khara and I know how to summon him,” Oz said, “but I’m not going to do it for you.” He looked down to where I sat. “Your call, new girl.”

  I rose to join the crowd of warriors looming above me. Then I turned to Muses, the frustration of failure and need for redemption blazing in his eyes. But it could not eclipse the shadows underneath them, or his gaunt cheeks, or the slight waver in his stance.

  “No. I will not summon him now. We have other matters to attend to first, like finding somewhere else to live. Let us not forget the enemies currently hunting me—hunting us. We need to leave the Victorian. When you are well, Muses, we will summon the messenger god, and together, we will find a way to break his mind—then Dionysus’.”

  Before he could argue, I turned and walked to the foyer, Oz and the others falling in behind me.

  “What about the asshole in the basement?” Casey asked.

  “Leave him for now,” Sean replied. “I will return for him soon.” He looked to Oz, his distaste for the Dark One plain in his stare. “Ozereus will join me. Together, we’ll find somewhere safe to stash him.”

  “Well, that’s one of us,” Casey said as we stepped outside. For once, luck was in our favor—not a pair of black wings could be seen flying through the skies above or lurking in the shadows around the Victorian.

  But something else was. The familiar hiss of Azriel echoed toward us from the porch next door.

  “Princesss,” he said, his statuesque form turning to leather before my eyes. He stalked toward us, eyes darting around in anticipation of an attack. “I sssee you are well.”

  “What news of the Dark Ones do you have? Of the one whose name we do not speak?”

  “Danger isss upon thisss city,” he said, stopping just short of us. “You mussstn’t ssstay here.”

  “Way ahead of you, big guy,” Oz said.

  The gargoyle eyed him cautiously, as one bold enough to stare Oz down should.

  “The Dragon hasss sssent me to keep watch over your home. He sssaid to offer refuge to any of you who ssshould return.”

  I looked back at my brothers, who shifted their gazes from one to the other, doing all they could to silently weigh the gargoyle’s words. While they did, I crouched down next to the beast and leaned in close.

  “Drawing us into a trap would be unwise,” I said, my tone calm but my stare menacing. “I have trusted you before, and it has not been misplaced. Do you trust the Dragon’s intentions? Shall I force the truth from your mind as my brother can?”

  The beast recoiled in offense. “The Dragon and I only wisssh to help.”

  “Then we accept,” I said, placing my hand under his jaw. “For the sake of you both, I hope we do not regret it.”

  9

  Had I known what I was agreeing to at the time, I might have exercised better judgment. But with few options and even fewer safe spaces for my brothers to reside, I had made a hasty decision that was leading us deep underground through the sewers of Detroit; a decision I was beginning to regret.

  “Did you know what you were getting into when you said yes to this?” Oz asked, echoing my thoughts. “Because I’m starting to think your love of subterranean spaces is more like an obsession.”

  “I did not know,” I replied with a sharp exhale.

  “I did, but you didn’t let me get a word in first,” Casey said. I looked back to find a hint of sadness in his dark eyes—eyes that constantly surveyed our surroundings, as though he expected a swarm of gargoyles to descend upon us at any moment.

  “The Dragon hasss prepared a ssspace for you—”

  “Does it include shackles on the wall and a torture room?” Oz muttered under his breath. “I feel like Deimos would move in if it did…”

  I cast a harsh glare his way, and he smiled.

  “Not all isss asss it seemsss,” Azriel replied as he made a ninety-degree turn, then descended a metal ladder built into the wall.

  We filed down behind him, working our way lower and lower into the bowels of Detroit. Just when I thought it impossible to go any further, Azriel turned to face what appeared to be a concrete wall. But when he placed his claws against it and uttered a foreign phrase, the concrete smoldered and disappeared, creating an entrance to the most unexpected sight.

  Just beyond the threshold was a world of fire and light and beauty I could not comprehend. Though I loved the Underworld—my home—the majesty of the Dragon’s abode was undeniable. Gold lined the walls, and it glinted with every flicker of firelight, the reflections dancing infinitely off of every surface. The black, polished stone floor radiated warmth, and the ceiling vaulted so high that I wondered if it did not graze the surface above from below. As I stared up at the glowing dome, I realized why the height was imperative. The Dragon swirled and danced in the air above, his body slicing through it like a fish in water. His scales glistened in the light of the room, sparkling like a jewel too beautiful to name. In that moment, I understood why Casey could have loved such a creature.

  I looked to my dark brother and saw the longing in his eyes.

  The Dragon easily spotted us and flew down to land on the far side of the room. With a magic so seamless, he morphed into his human form as elegantly as he had flown. One second, he was beast. The next, man.

  “I see you have accepted my invitation,” he said, heading toward where we stood shoulder to shoulder in a line, a united front against an uncertain ally. He stopped well short of us, his eyes narrowed with understanding. “Perhaps I should start from the beginning,” he said, unprompted. “Azriel saw Khara outside the Victorian, acting strangely. It did not take him long to realize who held her mind. When she took to the air, he returned to me and relayed this information. Up until then, all I’d known was that you had all traveled to the Underworld to face an unknown enemy—and none had returned.” The sadness in his eyes as they reflexively fell upon Casey was so plain that I felt a sharp tug in my chest. “I knew that Kaine and his Dark Ones had been watching the area—that you could not remain there, if you were ever to come back at all—so I had Azriel keep watch until either you returned or the inevitable truth of your deaths settled in my mind.”

  “What about your other leathery friends?” Casey asked, stepping forward. “You ordered those fuckers to attack us the last time we encountered them.”

  “And I have not seen them since,” the Dragon replied.

  “Are they no longer yours to command?”

  He paused. “I’m not certain they ever were. Only Azriel has ever been truly loyal, as he remains.” The reason for Azriel to have faked his own death when Deimos had taken over the gargoyles and come for me became even clearer. “You will not encounter the gargoyles here, and you are free to stay for as long as you wish. This place is well warded and unknown by even those minions who once served me. This is my private sanctuary. Only Azriel—and now y
ou—know of its existence.”

  “You were holding out on me,” Casey said, his tone dry and devoid of emotion as he took in the majestic space

  “That was never my intention,” was the Dragon’s only response. He gestured for us to enter the great space, and we followed him as he pointed out the various adjoining rooms. “I was not expecting so many of you,” he said as he led us around, “but I can arrange things to accommodate if sharing rooms is acceptable.”

  “How many rooms?” Casey asked, eyeing the closed doors around the perimeter.

  “Including mine,” the Dragon said, pinning serious eyes on Casey, “five.”

  “I should go above to check in on the situation back home,” Sean said. “Things were…interesting when I left.”

  Nobody dared to ask if the one he loved was at the epicenter of his issues. We all knew better than that—even Oz.

  “Pierson and I will be fine together,” his twin said. The Dragon indicated a door, and the two headed for it, weapons drawn just in case.

  Muses looked to Casey and Drew, then the Dragon. “Perhaps I will take a room alone. Sean can stay there if necessary. I don’t imagine the rest of you would be interested in rooming together, unless I can tempt you with such an offer, Khara? It’s nothing sexual, of course. I just find you…fascinating.”

  “She has other plans,” Oz said from behind me. Muses’ wicked smile grew wider.

  “I imagine she does—or at least you do.”

  With that, he headed toward the room next to the twins’ and disappeared.

  “C’mon, Drew,” Casey said, heading for the door beyond Muses’. “Be thankful I don’t snore.”

  “That’s what you think,” Drew muttered under his breath as he followed behind Casey, leaving Oz and me behind with the Dragon. I tried not to notice our host’s disappointment at Casey’s choice of roommates.