asks, his voice sleepy.
“No.” I smile against his back. “This is just us.”
Sleep tugs at my thoughts. I feel warm and safe in a way I only ever dreamed of back in that cold cell. This cavern between the Underworld and the surface could really be some strange kind of paradise for us, if not for the uncertainty of Andros.
Just the thought of it makes my muscles tense. What if we get to the surface and he’s not there? What if all of this is for nothing? I don’t want to think about what it could mean if Andros could never come to the surface. Because at any other time, I’d simply go back to be with him. But with the child inside of me, I couldn’t condemn him or her to a life in the Underworld.
Which means...I can’t think about it.
Blaise’s hands are suddenly on my shoulders, and those magical hands of his begin to rub the tension away. I feel my body relax. If I wasn’t so exhausted, I might ask him to let those perfect hands of his wander to other places on my body. But instead, I feel sleep’s call and move towards it.
Which is exactly when I feel the magic inside of me go wild.
I jerk, sitting up.
“What’s wrong?” Blaise asks.
Orion turns around and frowns at me.
My heart races. I stretch my magic out and feel something dark and evil. Something far too close.
“It’s come for us,” I say, my voice trembling.
It isn’t just that the mysterious enemy Persephone’s lover warned us about is here. It’s that my magic can sense the evil and power that radiates from it, and the strength of it is more than I expected.
After everything we’ve been through, I’m not sure this force is something we can defeat.
21
Gary
Reports are coming in from various Brotherhoods. Monsters that were long dead are found alive. Some are causing unimaginable chaos. But some seem to be smarter. We hear strange reports of missing people and unexplainable deaths, but no one else would suspect it’s tied to whatever the hell had been led out of the Underworld.
“There’s so much wrong with this,” Elizabeth says beside me. “Someone had to lead those souls back out. But who? And they came at a record pace. What allowed them to travel so fast?”
The answer is simple. “There must have been creatures that weren’t dead...that were simply taken by Hades and brought to the Underworld. Not even souls, but flesh and blood creatures. And they must have had the will to lead the rest of them out, and the power to do it quickly.”
“My Gods,” Elizabeth whispers.
Charles, a rather new Elite, speaks from Elizabeth’s other side. “Gargoyles are being hurt. No one has died yet, but it’s only a matter of time. The only Brotherhood that seems to be successful across the board is Rokad’s group, but the reports of what they’re doing...they don’t make sense.”
I had heard the tales too. That damned mixed breed group is fighting like demons rather than gargoyles. They have no mercy, no honor. They simply kill and kill. I have some doubts about who is more dangerous: the monsters or that band of brothers.
Unfortunately, as much as my people have been filling my time with dealing with this shit, I have a more important task. A task that means keeping my head firmly in place.
I stand. “Well, let me know if you hear anything more.”
As I climb down the steps from the dais, Charles’s voice stops me. “If we keep fighting like this, there will be no gargoyles left.”
I look back at him, irritated. “So what? We stop being gargoyles? We stop being protectors and just let the humans die?”
“No,” he says, then draws himself up taller. “But maybe we find an ally to help us with our task.”
I instantly knew what he’s thinking. My nose wrinkles. “Not a chance in hell. Not while I rule the gargoyles.”
And then I turn and storm out of the building. I walk through the town, where there’s an air of fear. Wounded men stride past. Women gather together with the few children in the village. But none of the female monsters and their men are to be seen. I don’t know whether they’re out fighting, getting themselves killed, or if they’ve left us all behind and may be the final gargoyles on earth before this is over.
I think of my cripple son and sneer. No, not gargoyles: outcasts with their freak wives and mixed-breed children.
People try