Defying Destiny (Afterword Academy #3) - Katie May Page 0,11

are.

An acorn-sized lump lodges itself in my throat, making swallowing impossible. Auston may hate me now for stealing his wings, but how would he feel if I inadvertently got his brothers killed? The pain emanating from his ice-blue eyes, the betrayal carved onto his glacial face, is nothing compared to what could happen.

I focus back on the conversation at Braxton’s next words.

“…where he is.” He shakes his head slowly, choppy black hair falling into his face. He’s in desperate need of a cut, something I didn’t think was possible, seeing as we’re dead. “Administer is no doubt waiting for us. Waiting for Hadley. He must know that his plan didn’t work and that Caius was able to take her essence before she was lost forever.”

“Abram,” Caius corrects, voice gruff and curt with barely suppressed emotion. “Call him by his real name.”

Pregnant silence immediately descends as we all exchange wary looks. There’s no doubt in my mind that Administer is somewhere on campus, waiting for me to show my head. And this time, he’ll make sure the deed is done.

“I suppose you’ll just have to do this on your own,” Aggie—Eve—singsongs, and I can’t help but jump. I completely forgot that the crazy, old bat was even here. Though…

Is she really a crazy, old bat?

As I turn towards where Buttox is suckling on her breasts while she coos for her “baby to drink all the milky,” I decide that she really has changed. And not for the better. It’s still surreal to match this woman up with the stunning Fate I left behind.

“What the fuck do you mean by that?” Auston demands, glowering.

Buttox removes his lips from Aggie’s nipple with a loud, gruesome, fucking disgusting slurping sound.

“She means that there’s a portal to Hell in these exact tunnels,” he declares, and the cryptic comment has all of the guys tensing imperceptibly.

“Impossible,” Braxton bites out after another pronounced moment of silence. “I would’ve been made aware—”

“Unless the portal can only be accessed by a Fate.” Aggie’s smile reveals a mouth devoid of any teeth, and as she sashays towards the center of the room, still butt ass naked, I swear I want to bleach my eyes out.

When Aggie procures a Fate dagger—seemingly pulling it out of thin air—all of my guys tense and race to stand in front of me. Their hard bodies create a protective shield that she’ll have to fight against in order to get to me. I don’t know if I want to scream at them for putting their lives at risk or kiss them senseless. My head and heart are toxic cocktails of emotion.

“I’m not going to hurt the girl,” Aggie says with a roll of her eyes, but I can’t help but feel uneasy. Only a short bit ago, one of those daggers had impaled itself into my fucking chest. Excuse me for being cautious and wary.

Murmuring something under her breath, Aggie slices at her palm until blood wells. I didn’t even know it was possible. She’s dead, for fuck’s sake. Though…

She’s not, is she? At least, not in the traditional sense. I don’t yet understand how exactly a Fate fits into the Afterlife. Are they dead? Are they alive? Do they have souls or essences? Question after question bombards me, but I know that now isn’t the time to ask them. If Aggie’s correct, I only have a short span of time until my soul burns away the essences currently residing inside of me. During that time, we have to travel into Hell’s belly, free Caius from his prison, and find my essence amongst thousands.

No fucking pressure.

Using the blood, Aggie draws a circle around herself, blinding white light emitting from her hunched over, naked body. She jumps to her feet—with a gracefulness that belies her haggard appearance—and where she once sat is now an endless cavern of darkness, as black as pitch.

A portal to Hell.

“Holy fucking hell,” Brax breathes, peering into the abyss with wide eyes. His bat-like wings flutter behind him in preparation, and I can’t help but note the way Auston’s eyes fix on them with barely veiled jealousy and contempt.

“So we need to go down there?” Preston asks nervously. He fidgets slightly, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and I immediately step beside him and interlock our fingers. Instantly, his panic abates as he gives my hand a grateful squeeze.

“Most of you haven’t been down there since you were Dearly Departeds,” Brax states, still hovering just at the edge of the hole.