Deidre's Death (#2, Rhyn Eternal) (2 page)

It didn’t quite work out as he planned. He
paused in his pacing, staring into space. He came to help her, to
appease his guilt once and for all. It hadn’t worked. He was
leaving conflicted after seeing the marking on her back, the one
that identified her as Darkyn’s mate.

Sweet Deidre. The woman who brought sunshine
into every room, who managed to touch his sick heart. The only
innocent soul in Hell, for Wynn’s was as black as the stone blocks
of Hell’s fortress. What kind of deal did she make with Darkyn to
rewrite the mating laws of the time-before-time?

Gabriel had to fix this.
It was beyond Wynn’s control, but maybe, somehow, another deity was
able to save Deidre from Darkyn, who was not likely to be merciful,
even to his mate.
This
thought, of what the demon lord might do to the poor girl who
had suffered enough, was what made Wynn feel guiltiest.

Had his actions truly set her on this path
to end up as the plaything of a creature with no capacity for
mercy? Gabriel was struggling with his domain. What if he wasn’t
strong enough yet to fix the chain-of-events that Wynn had
unknowingly started?

The door to the portal room opened, and he
readied himself for an interaction with Darkyn. To his surprise,
Deidre strode into the portal room.

“Wynn. Nice to see you again,” she said with
a cool smile.

For a long moment, he was
too surprised to speak. It wasn’t
his
Deidre. It was
the
Deidre, the deity
who ruled over Death’s domain before turning it over to Gabriel.
She crackled with the power of a goddess, her eyes turning colors
and her delicate features cold.

“It was you in her head,” he managed. He
knew there was a soul in the tumor in human-Deidre’s head.
Suspecting it had belonged to the goddess who was Death, Wynn still
wasn’t expecting anyone in their right mind to revive the most
dreaded of the deities.

“Back from the dead-dead,” past-Death said.
“Raised by the Dark One, the only other deity capable of reviving a
dead-dead soul. Heading home to my Gabriel.”

“Home,” he repeated.

She turned to display the
marking on her back. The immortal mating script clearly
read,
Gabriel.

“I don’t want to know what you did to
rewrite the mating laws,” Wynn said. “Let’s get the fuck out of
here, before Darkyn changes his mind.”

“He’s busy with her right now,” she replied
then snapped her fingers at a demon. “Portal!”

“Lord Darkyn says you will await him,” a
demon delivered the same message Wynn received a few minutes
before.

Wynn’s jaw clenched. Darkyn was ruthless.
The demon would leave nothing to chance, especially not the
claiming of his mate. In the meantime, Wynn was trapped in a room
that felt way too small with the deity he meant to kill instead of
the human he almost succeeded in killing.

No matter how he looked at things, he’d
fucked up worse than he initially thought.

“You came out better as a human,” he said
without heat.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” past-Death’s
smile was genuine. “I didn’t expect her to turn out as perfect as
she did.”

“What made her beautiful had nothing to do
with your tinkering,” he snapped. “Or mine. She was naturally good.
If anything, you and I nearly broke what was too good to be
real.”

“You’re still in love with me, after all I
did to you,” she murmured. “How can that be?”

Wynn eyed her. He suspected she was taunting
him. The look of consternation on her face, however, told him
differently. She was curious.

“Emotion is a weakness, one we cannot always
control,” he replied. “You will find much of your power diminished,
especially among those who used to bow to you. I’ve learned this
altogether unpleasant lesson myself.”

“You mean Gabriel.”

“I mean everyone,” he said with a smile.
“You and I were at the top when we became dead-dead. We are at the
bottom now, hated by all, without the resources of power to which
we were accustomed.”

“Interesting,” she said. “You will help me
relearn.”

“No, I will not.”

“You will, Wynn. As the deity who brought
you back from the dead-dead, you are obligated to me,” she reminded
him. “You will do as I say.”

His jaw clenched. He almost spoke, then
stopped. If she hadn’t learned anything yet, she would soon. He was
happy to sit on the sidelines and wait for those hard lessons to
start.

“You can start by telling me how my
replacement acted,” she continued. “What she did. How she won over
Gabriel. If I am to become her, I need to know more.”

“You have a better chance of telling him
what you did and begging him for mercy,” Wynn said with a shake of
his head.

“Mercy?” Her eyebrows shot up. “I’ve never
begged anyone for anything, let alone mercy.”

“You are like me, too broken to pretend not
to be. Deidre isn’t broken like us. Honesty is what will win you
Gabriel. Deception will not. You want my help then do what I
say.”

Past-Death frowned. She looked ready to ask
him something else when the door opened again. The demon lord
entered and closed the door behind him. Darkyn was lean and wiry,
his youthful looks at odds with the ancient intelligence in his
black eyes. His quiet power was underwhelming, until one saw him in
action. Short, dark hair framed a face with plain features that
showed the signs of a lifetime of battle. His fangs were receding.
A demon’s canines grew when he fed.

Wynn didn’t want to imagine what Darkyn did
to the sweet girl he left behind in Hell.

“Going somewhere?” the demon lord taunted in
a low growl, no part of which sounded human.

The human was lost the moment Darkyn’s name
appeared across her back. Wynn pitied her but wasn’t about to ask
any favors of the demon lord that didn’t involve Wynn leaving Hell
– and Deidre – behind.

“Waiting on you,” past-Death replied. “We
had a deal.”

“I always keep my terms.”

“I know. For which I thank you.”

“You also made a deal with my mate,” Darkyn
said. He crossed his arms as he approached the woman who was
identical to his mate. The demon lord stared down at her.

Wynn stepped back. Past-Death didn’t
recognize the threat before her, not yet. She’d learn when she
returned to a world she no longer controlled. Past-Death hadn’t
felt the sting of reality that Wynn learned the hard way his second
time around. Survival was a skill, one that creatures like the two
of them had been never needed when they were rulers over their
domains.

He listened, though, curious what kind of
deal human-Deidre had made with the only goddess to ever outsmart
the Dark One and Immortal Laws.

“It was made between us. I assume you know
the terms, since it was sealed with your power,” past-Death said
firmly. “There’s no room for your interference. It’s done and was
executed between her and me. You cannot interfere and you must
respect the terms.”

“I always do,” Darkyn growled. “I am aware
of the terms.”

“It does, however, place you in a
potentially bad situation, doesn’t it? If she wins?”

Darkyn was listening with the focus of a
predator, his sharpened teeth resting on his lower lip.

Neither a hero nor a Good Samaritan, Wynn
found himself retreating to the far wall, in case the worst-case
scenario happened, and one of the powerful creatures decided to
act. Past-Death was far too arrogant for his comfort. The idea of
watching Darkyn strike her down made him eager to see blood spill.
No part of him wanted to see her spared a demon’s mercy.

“You may want to take steps to prevent her
winning,” she suggested. “Just in case. You don’t want to risk
losing your blood monkey. It’s a potential outcome, if this doesn’t
go my way.”

“I don’t lose deals,” Darkyn replied.

“It wasn’t your deal.”

“She used my magic to seal your deal, just
as you used Gabriel’s to seal yours,” he said with a slow smile.
“Her win or loss is mine to enforce, if either of you chooses not
to honor the terms. I do not lose. Neither will she.”

“You won’t want her to win,” past-Death
insisted. “Not if it means you lose her.”

“How I plan to keep her is not your concern.
Your outstanding debt to me is.”

“There is no outstanding debt.”

“I raised you from the dead-dead. As
past-Death, I’m sure you remember. It creates a sort of
obligation,” he said mockingly.

Wynn watched their exchange, fascinated by
the idea of seeing two bloodthirsty deities try to outwit one
another. His own interactions with deities left him more than
willing to shun them, if at all possible.

“You forget your new place. You are a deity
without a domain or source of power, which means you have nothing I
could possibly want,” Darkyn said. He circled the small, blonde
woman and stopped behind her, gaze on Gabriel’s name, which was
written across her back, along with the Immortal mating script.
“But I will consider your obligation to me complete, on one
condition.”

“I’m listening,” she said, frowning.

“You leave Hell a human in every way.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then you don’t leave.”

“We had a deal,” she snapped, facing him.
“You bring me back, I provide you a mate, and you let me go.”

“Who defines the terms to be completed for
the reincarnated?” Darkyn snarled.

“The deity who brings one back,” Wynn
supplied, gaze on past-Death. “It’s a separate obligation.”

She shot him a glare.

“You will try to win the deal you made with
my mate the same way she won him. Without your powers,” Darkyn
said. “These are the terms of you leaving Hell.”

“If I win the deal, will you return my
power?” she asked, face flushed.

“No,” the demon lord said. “Gabriel or
power? You choose.”

She looked ready to challenge Darkyn. Wynn
wasn’t able to pity her, but he was able to understand the bigger
picture. Darkyn wanted more than for past-Death to lose her bet; he
intended to guarantee she never again became the threat she
was.

“You’ve gone this far to guarantee a life
with him,” Wynn said to her gently. “You’ve got one chance. You’d
be a fool not to take it.”

Past-Death was quiet, considering Wynn then
Darkyn. He saw the uneasiness on her face. She was starting to
taste the bitterness of reality.

“I’ll do as you asked and help you,” Wynn
added. She didn’t need to know he planned on having her killed off,
once and for all, once they were free of Hell. As a human, she’d be
much easier to render dead-dead. For good this time.

Past-Death was visibly torn, her eyes
changing colors faster and faster as she thought. For a moment,
Wynn thought she’d refuse.

“Very well,” she said at last. “I agree to
your terms, Darkyn.”

“Then you may leave.” Darkyn motioned to the
portal.

She hesitated, as if waiting for him to say
more. When he didn’t, past-Death stepped onto the dais. Wynn
trailed her, but the demon lord rested a hand on his shoulder to
stop him.

Wynn cursed silently. He watched as
past-Death disappeared through the only way out of Hell for regular
Immortals like him.

Wynn drew a deep breath and faced the
smaller demon lord.

“Sasha,” Darkyn said.

“My son, dead by your hands, I believe,”
Wynn replied, tensing.

“Not by mine directly. He served me well for
the time he was here. Sharp but erratic. Born to betray any master
he served. My favorite kind of creature.”

Wynn said nothing. He hadn’t wanted to
believe one of his sons betrayed the rest of the Council, though he
wasn’t exactly surprised, either. Sasha had a side that was far
more depraved than that of any of Wynn’s other sons.

“How badly do you want to leave Hell?”
Darkyn sounded amused.

“What are the terms?” Wynn said through
clenched teeth.

“Very simple. You undo what Sasha did.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Come.” The demon lord strode out of the
portal room.

Wynn’s gaze lingered on the only outlet
home. He sighed and followed. Darkyn opened one of the internal
portals within Hell and strode through it. Wynn trailed, dread
growing at the pit of his stomach. He emerged in a hallway lined
with stone doors. Darkyn waited beside an open door, hands clasped
behind his back in a deceptive display of ease.

Wynn entered and stopped a few steps into
the room, not expecting what was before him. A girl in her
mid-teens lay in a hospital bed in the center of the large chamber.
She appeared to be sleeping. Half her face was knotted with
horrible scars, the other half displaying skin close to the same
shade as the white pillowcase beneath her.

“Sasha did many things to her, the finality
of which was kill her,” Darkyn said. “I raised her when I was able
to. I went after him, not knowing that whatever he did, it was
something only he could undo. His soul was … lost soon after we
threw your old body into the deepest chasm in the mortal
world.”

There was no emotion in the demon lord’s
voice, no indication of warmth or affection whatsoever.

“Who is she?” Wynn ventured.

“Selyn. My daughter, a hatchling born by an
Immortal blood monkey.”

Wynn hid his surprise. And then something
else clicked. Only the Dark One was able to raise someone from the
dead.

“You
raised her?” he asked, the words from Darkyn’s discussion
with past-Death returning. “You raised past-Death. You got
promoted.”

“Rarely does a
promotion
involve
conquering a creature older than time.” Darkyn’s smile was
chilling.

Wynn felt cold inside. Dealing with Darkyn
was bad enough. Knowing the most powerful creature – one the Dark
One himself exiled at one point for his ruthlessness – had taken
over Hell was another matter entirely.