Blood Stained Tranquility (2 page)

Eyebrow still raised, she glanced at the empty dais in front of Crius and made damn sure he could see the look on her face. Everyone knew which
Aristi
had been kept there until a few weeks ago.

The corner of Crius’s mouth twitched. He sat up a bit straighter, leaning forward to look into her eyes.

“So much bitterness . . . who hurt you, Nylicia?”

“If you value the cock I know you don’t use, you will keep such questions to yourself.” Crius’s face clouded with rage and Nylicia smiled even wider. “Apologies. You are using it now, aren’t you? Lots of the ‘self-love’ going on. I know you’re immortal, but how are you not chaffed by now? I am
so
curious.”

“Ho—what . . .”

His sputtering was enough to make her smirk. Embarrassing a human? So fun. Embarrassing a god? Priceless. “I see everything that goes on in your dreams, Crius, and your waking moments as well.”

She wasn’t at all ashamed about the lack of privacy she afforded him. The dreams of almost every creature in the Universe lay visible to her. As long as they were useful to the final cause, all she had to do was focus on them and everything was bared for her to see.

Anyone. Anywhere.

Even the Aviraji.

Yes, “dangerous”
was her middle name. She was very proud of that fact.
That’s right, baby.
Crius’s glare remained focused on her.

She sighed. “If it makes you feel any better, I really can’t control it. And I can promise you that you are much more in control than Ianthen. His dreams are honestly starting to frighten me. I’m too innocent to witness such things. Truly I am.”

Crius ran a hand down his face, his nostrils flaring slightly. He seemed to be praying for patience. Nylicia wished him luck with that. She really did.

He threw her a hard look. “Why are you here?”

“I need the
Aristi
holding Atarya’s powers.”

Crius shot out of his seat. “Justice? Why?”

Nylicia stared at her nails, feeling sorry for him. Normally, he was more astute than this. It truly was sad how out of whack his brain was.

She looked back up at him. “Can you really not guess?”

He continued to glare at her. “
Who
is absorbing them?”

“Not Dimithinia of Maleksoraniel, I can assure you. If it was, I’d be advising you to run very, very far.”

“I’ve done nothing to her!”

“Keep lying to yourself.”

Dimithinia’s soul had been with him for countless millennia after her death at the beginning of the
Dixieme Eductu
. He’d spent more time with that soul when it was in its
Aristi
than with any creature he’d ever encountered. Not even his brothers saw him as much. He had even taken it out into the world with him, showing her soul the wonders of time as it passed.

That is, until she’d been brought back to life. He’d been studiously ignoring her since.

“Open the
Otificas
and give it to me,” she said, deciding to let him exist in his little bubble of denial. For a little while longer anyway. Time was running out for Mr. Celibate.

Crius shook his head, glaring up at the ceiling. He motioned for her to follow him, flashing with her out of the main area of the
Abideos
and appearing in front of two massive doors.

Beyond the doors lay the
Otificas
, the most guarded chamber in all of
Renentr.
It was the Chamber of Powers. The only way in? Have Crius open it for you. Or kill him. The chamber was as much a part of him as his own powers.

Nylicia had actually entertained the idea once or twice after he’d begun hiding from Dimithinia. Unfortunately, the bastard was too useful to dispose of.

Le sigh
, as the humans said.

The two black, marble doors that blocked their way were almost twenty feet tall each. Together, measured across, they were much longer than that. An intricate design that looked like thick, gold branches stretched across them, intertwining and covering the doors like a web.

“Who is getting them?” Crius asked again, waving his hand and causing the invisible energy protecting the entrance to dissipate.

The branches came to life, filling the darkened hall with a rough scraping sound as they twisted away from the doors. Once clear, they swung inward on their own, and beyond them lay another long, dark hallway.

They flashed into the chamber together. The walls there did not glow white. They wouldn’t. The
Aristi
housed inside were not filled with souls, but with cosmic powers that shone in different colors—colors that flared, waiting to be set free. Crius walked up to an
Aristi
that glowed bright red and Nylicia smirked as he brought it down.

She wouldn’t be able to take it from him as it was solid, and in her current form, sadly, she was not. But she did have enough energy to transport it to her actual location.

Crius scowled when he saw it disappear out of his hand. “Damn it, Nylicia. Who?”

“Evesse Salazar.” She smirked anew at his startled expression. “She is destined to become the next Goddess of Justice. She alone can save Zeniel from the hell he is trapped in. She can gain control of the beast that lies within him. Mavrak will not be tamed any other way. You know what they say, leading a man by his cock and all that.”

Crius looked shocked. “Another
prophexia
? Why didn’t you say something?”

Nylicia laughed, turning to leave him. “Crius, darling, they’re
all prophexia
s. It’s merely a matter of when and where. I have some
prophexis
in the works, too. Sexy mofos, as they say on Earth. Can’t wait to introduce you. On another note, I also need the powers of Flux. It’s time for Dyletri to make good on that name I gave him so long ago.”

“Xinthnatia’s powers?” Nylicia could see the wheels turning once more behind Crius’s gorgeous, pupilless, silver eyes. “The Handler of Change. That’s why you gave Salicyar the name Dyletri.”

“Yup.”

“Those are going to Ismini Harrovnian, aren’t they?”

There go his powers of observation.

“You bet your hot ass they are.”

Chapter 1

“
Evesse . . . Evesse . . . wake up. Please Eve, please . . . you need to come back to me . . .
”

In the space between darkness and a world Evesse could barely sense, a voice leaked through. Hearing it sent awareness racing through her synapses, a current that she could feel throughout her mind.

She tried to raise her arm. Tried to touch her head.

Nothing. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t feel her limbs. There was nothing but her consciousness. She was aware. Nothing more.

Why? What was going on? Where was she? She racked her mind, going full-blown street sweeper on it. The last thing she remembered, she’d been with Ismini in the back of a minivan. No. No wait. They’d been dragged into the desert, and then thrown into a vortex of sheer energy that had torn them apart.

Holy shit, I’m dead.

She heard the words, recognized her voice within the thought.

Dead. She was supposed to be dead. Was she? If she was, how was she aware? Was she a ghost or something?

Oh, God.

Just as panic started to set in, memories rushed forth. The last few weeks of her life clicked into place. Then it was gone. And then, with brutal force, it all came back again. She remembered the blue skin and black teeth of Enteax. The leathery beige skin of his partner, Lisrn. They had kidnapped her along with Ismini, and taken them to Arizona to sacrifice Ismini to the Higher Fates.

Ismini.

Fuck. Where was Ismini? Her best friend had been thrown into the vortex with her. Evesse clearly remembered those bastards going through with the sacrifice. She remembered the blinding light surrounding them, Ismini’s shocked scream, and then the white-hot pain of her body being ripped to shreds.

The memories kept coming, each one hitting her just a little harder. Almost as if the fuckers were rushing into her head, slamming through her skull, and throwing a welcome home party for all their pain-filled friends.

Two weeks ago, she had been a normal girl, working in her best friend Soleria’s restaurant with their other best friend Ismini. She’d had a fun job. A cute studio right by the river in Astoria, New York. She’d even had a hookup at Midtown Comics in downtown Manhattan that helped her support her comic book obsession.

Everything had been peachy keen. At least, it had been until a week after Ismini’s eighteenth birthday, when some bullshit god showed up out of nowhere and took off with her because she was the ritual sacrifice he needed to reincarnate his ancient lover.

One would think that Ismini might have mentioned that little fact in all the years the girls had known each other. A simple, “Hey, I’ve been condemned to die since before I was born, and one day, a god is going to come for me and make sure that happens.”

But no, she hadn’t said anything to anyone. She hadn’t given them one bit of a warning.

So fucked up. Just thinking about it was enough to send anger rushing into the crevices of Eve’s mind and—wait. She still had a body. Her head felt like a jackhammer had been set loose inside; each excruciating pound reverberated through her skull. A skull meant she still had a body, right?

Eve threw commands at her brain, one after the other. She tried to open her eyes. Flex her fingers.
Something.

Nothing happened.

She had the ability to think, but she couldn’t see, and she couldn’t fucking move! She called out, screaming inside her mind over and over, but nothing responded. Her vision didn’t return and the darkness didn’t recede.

I’m fucked. So fucked.

“Lay her here. I need to check her.”

At least she could hear. She was sure that voice belonged to Vedlyl, the God of Medicine. She had met him when she had first been taken to Enzyria, the dimension of the gods.

Just as she attempted to start screaming with all the might she could muster, a jolt went through her. For a second, she felt her entire body.

And just as quickly, she wished she had stayed numb.

“Careful with her!”

Oh, God.
That
voice. She knew it, recognized it deep within the very fibers of her awareness.

“Zen. I can’t believe I’m saying this to
you
of all beings, but calm down!”

“I told you to be fucking careful!”

A whimper left her. It must have actually made it past her throat because she heard Zeniel growl. She had heard that same growl before, back when they’d first met on Earth. The day he’d gone to get her and bring her to Enzyria.

She tried to call out to him, desperate to see him.
Feel
him.
Zeniel!

“Zeniel, calm the hell down. I’m going in there; I’m going to try to find her.”

Nylicia. Eve would never forget her voice either. Shortly after arriving in Enzyria, she’d had a dream. In it, she had met the Watcher of Destines and sealed her own fate by walking through a portal that had Zen’s image reflected on the other side.

“If I told you this was waiting for you on the other side . . . would you follow me through?”
Nylicia had asked her.

Eve knew then that she was being asked to choose her destiny.

That destiny involved Zeniel. In the portal, he had been curled into himself, shirtless with his long, dark red hair falling over his shoulders, and every muscle bulging with the strain of some internal battle. She had not known then what was causing his pain. All she had known, with absolute certainty, was that she would do anything to ease his suffering. Anything.

So she’d walked through the portal.

What seemed like seconds later, she had been awoken by Vedlyl who asked her to come to Ismini’s room. Her friend had been exhibiting frightening symptoms for days, and the moment Eve ran into the room, she’d learned why.

Ismini was stuck in an unrequited mating. She had mated to the same god who had planned her sacrifice—Dyletri, the God of Fertility—and a mating in their world wasn’t just a case of “oh-lookie-I’m-horny-now-bang-me.”