Going Thru Hell (9 page)

“I'm losing my soul and putting you in danger!”

“You are learning how to heal it, numb nuts!”

Bru moved between the two of us, smiling. “Okay, okay. Calm down. You can't kill the immortal, Kylie.”

“So you are enjoying this? Holy crap on a cracker! Who the fuck wants to live like this? I don't!” I stood and paced, footsteps loud, slamming on the boards.

“Nobody does.”

I pointed at her, wanting to yell, stomp my feet like a toddler, and instead clenching my jaw to the point of pain at her reasonable tone.

“Sweetheart, we agreed to help you, no matter the cost to ourselves.” Aki's tone turned cajoling.

“Oh great. Sacrifice yourself for the mortal Braider? The idiot human?”

“Feel better taking your anger out on friends?”

“Damn you, I want more than this reaction. What if I inadvertently lead them to Riot? What if they learn of him? You brought his goddamned picture! Modi will keep his mouth shut, but you gave them a fucking clue!” I leaned over Bru.

My son, oh
my god, my son might be in danger
. I swayed, lightheaded.

A ringing slap stung my cheek, forcing my head to roll pa
infully. “Get yourself together,” Bru yelled.

I slowly fell to my knees, sobbing.
Riot, Riot, Riot, Riot, how can I protect him? What have I done?

“S
he's spiraling out of control, Aki!”

“Get out. Let me do something
, and I don't think she'll care for an audience.”

I heard Bru's footsteps leave but I didn't look up, only hugged myself tighte
r, focused on the consequences of what I might have done to endanger Riot.

“Bugger, Kylie. Come on, pull it together.”
He picked me up, settled my curled form on his lap and began to slowly remove my clothing. The feel of my nakedness against his hard muscles and hot skin a jolt. I gave him a surprised look right as he lowered his face and kissed me. A mere slide of his mouth against mine, his hands lightly rubbing my back and sides. My hormones took over. I was liquid, wanting more, needing to see where it could go. The comfort of another body, the slide of skin against skin, the need for some kind of intimate connection.

His hands and mouth became more urgent, passionate. I reveled in the long lost feelings of lust for another, our friendship helping to bring calmer emotions, a more positive
outlook.

He pulled back, both of us breathing heavily. “Are you a little more clear headed, Braider?”

I closed my eyes, his deep voice sexier when aroused. “Define clear headed.”

A chuckle rumbled through his chest. “That is a yes.”

I blinked rapidly. I stood, bending over to grab my ripped, dirty jeans and t-shirt. I dressed slowly, my body painful in its aroused state, but better than the close call with a breakdown. I glanced at Aki, gasping at the sight. Bloody hell, he was beautiful and perfect in an aroused state. Skin flushed a darker tan, muscles bulging, panting, eyes casting shadows in the dark room.

“Oh, geez, Aki. I'm sorry. Why do you keep doing this to yourself? You know we can never,” my hand waffled in the air as I tried to think of a good word, “consummate this part of our relationship.”

“It has its rewards.” He gave a tight smile.

“Should I leave and let you relieve yourself?”

“You don't want to watch?” A mischievous look lit his face.

“Uh, no.
Even I have a limit on my control.” I turned and left the room to his laughter echoing off the thin walls.

Chapter Fourteen

“Here, eat this.” Bru put a full plate of chili fries in front of me.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” I reached for the fat loaded comfort food, stuffing my face as fast as possible.

“No, but if it gets you to eat, we'll take a chance.” She sat down with her own plate.

“It's cruel to tempt me with my favorites.” I chugged a can of Pepsi. I finished, rubbing my belly and belching loudly. “Excuse me. What is the aim here?”

“In case you haven't noticed, you're nothing but skin and bones. Eat.” Aki refilled the empty plate.

“Oh, good grief
, I'm going to get sick.” I pushed it away.

“Eat.” He pushed it back.

I ate, glaring at them. I didn't like being bullied, but they were right.

I walked outside
, only to run into Tiamat's chest. I sighed, seeing the disapproval in her eyes. “Oh, come on! Are you going to keep me prisoner?”

“Recover, remain in the protective circle. Then you will be allowed out.”

“I need to get out.”

“No.”

I rolled my eyes and marched inside like a petulant teenager. Aki handed me a plate of salad.

“Oh, come on
,” I whined.

“Eat.”

I nibbled the salad, happy for something besides fat. I napped, and decided enough was enough when I woke up.

“I need to find out if Riot is okay. They ha
ven't tried anything in a week.” I pleaded, begged, ranted and raved.

“Tiamat has been checking on him regularly.” Bru crossed her arms and popped a hip out in a classic feminine gesture.

“That’s not enough. He’s
my
son, and I need to see he’s okay for myself.”

“
No, not possible. Bru and I want you fully recovered before we leave this place of solitude. The gods may be terrified after your little show, but you know you are not out of danger.” He moved to stand in front of the door, blocking my way out.

I threw my hands in the air, groaned
, and looked for something to throw. Right or not, I wanted to argue, needed to get out. I stalked into the little bedroom, flopped on the bed, and screamed into the pillow.

I rolle
d over, staring at the ceiling, certain something was missing. My gut was empty, my instincts quiet, the normal spice rack of immortal scents strangely absent. I realized with a start I could no longer sense the immortals. I lifted my head from the pillow and concentrated. I should feel the unique signature of Aki, Tiamat and Bru. Nothing. My spidey senses were gone. Jumping out of bed and running into the tiny living space, I found the two at a table playing some long forgotten card game. Moving to the nearest window and pressing my nose to the cold pane, I could see Tiamat's silhouette high above, flying in lazy circles.

“Why can't I feel you?” I turned big eyes to their frowning faces.

“What do you mean?” Bru stood.

“I can normally feel the unique signature of an immortal
, smell them. Yours. Aki's. Tiamat's. Any of the constant stalkers. It's gone. Bye-bye. Poof.”

“When did it stop, Kylie? Think hard.”

I flipped through my memories, shuffling them around, trying to find the exact moment I lost the skill. “Sometime before the last attack. I never felt them arrive or stalk me. I should have. Even from a different plane.”

Aki and Bru exchanged a look. “What? What does that look mean?”

“Do you know all of the stories about Braiders, Kylie?”

“Only what Anahita and Grandma told me.”

Sadness filled Aki's face, and he cleared it before speaking. “Legends say the ones that turned on humanity lost their secondary abilities first, including the capacity to sense immortals.”

I moved to a chair, gripped the
aged wood, straddling it and resting my arms on the back of the chair. “I thought we were repairing my soul with the whole bringing emotions to the front thing.”

Bru held herself tight, staring at the floor intently,
her voice low, “No. We've been pulling the remaining emotions forward in hopes it will heal the wounds to your soul. But they remain muted.”

“But it's so strong.” My voice sounded strangled, barely a whisper.

“Only because you are so dead before we manage it.”

I watched
as a tear slipped down Bru's cheek.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, that sums it up nicely.”

I sat in silence, trying to think of how to keep from going bad. The idea of hiding indefinitely rattled around my brain
, but I tossed it. If I hid for too long, the gods would look for someone else, possibly Riot. As a demi-god, a Braider and young, he'd be ripe for the picking. My son wasn’t immortal, but he did
carry
immortality, a permanent battery pack for braiding. If they could take him, he'd be young enough to reprogram and easily become a tool for their use. The thought made me sick.

“I can't let them learn of Riot. I need to see Modi.” I stared at Bru.

She tensed, glaring, but I could see thoughts circling her rather impressive brain. When her shoulders slumped, I knew she came to the same conclusion.

“Wait. Can't the wolf help?” Ak
i's eyes flicked back and forth.

“He still owes me
, but I am holding it for Riot's safety. Now isn't the time.”

“What about the others that owe you?”

“Same.”

“His safety is at stake right now.”

I met Aki's eyes. He made a good point, however, I remained wary of using the debts just yet.

“What happened
, exactly, when you were thirteen, Kylie?” Bru asked.

“Why?”

“Tell me what happened.”

My mind filtered slowly through the memories, to the incident at the age of thirteen. I shuddered, not wanting to revisit the horrific events. I whispered, “Please tell me why you need to know, Bru.”

“I think you’re hiding something that may be relevant to the current situation. Something you don't realize is very important.”

I nodded
and swallowed. Took a deep breath and blew it out, braced to tell the story in its entirety for the first time in fifteen years.

“Puberty hits us hard.” I bolted out of the seat, pacing in the small room, from wall to wall and back again. I lost myself in the day I found what I was truly capable of.

My parents owned twenty acres outside of Laramie, Wyoming. Our log home built in the shadow of the mountains, with warm summers and snow heavy winters. I loved it. School wasn't always fun, several kids seeing me as a target for taunts and physical confrontations. Developing early didn't help, the girls showing their insecurity by calling me whore and slut. In the days when bullying was something to deal with, my life was a living hell around other kids. To hide, I often spent time outside, with the horses we kept.

After school I'd run home, as fast as my scrawny legs could take me. Toss my backpack on the couch, toe off the tennis shoes
to replace them with well-worn boots. The minute my heels met
the
inner sole, I'd smile.

Mom could be found in the kitchen, prepping dinner. The smell of beef or chicken, the occasional treat of seafood, permeated the house. She stood over the island, cutting vegetables, or kneading bread, her slim form covered by an oversized apron. She would look up, smil
e, and never failed to ask the same thing, “How is my baby this afternoon?”

I ran for a hug, her subtle citrus perfume carrying away problems, her arms around me, her body warm and soft. Even at thirteen, an age when many tried to shrug off their parents, I insisted on a hug every day. She'd pull back, arms still around me, ask how my day went, listening intently to daily dramas and shy inquiries why I had to be so different.

“Oh, my baby, you can't help what you inherited. Your daddy's nose, my hair, his dark blue eyes, my height. Don't despair, it will all pull together eventually. Now, go see to Roofus. He's been snorting at the gate for a good twenty minutes.” She turned me around, smacked my butt, and returned to cooking.

I always stared a moment longer. Mom was half Native Alaskan, half Norwegian. I loved her olive
toned skin and thick, wavy black hair. I'd inherited its thick and coarse nature, but Dad's brunette coloring and fair skin. Mom, however, was beautiful to me. She was slim, well-curved with the oval face of our Native ancestry.

I turned to head to the corrals.

Roofus, my old bay gelding, stomped his feet, snorting at my lateness. “Hey, easy boy!”

He was my best friend and a great teacher for an inexperienced rider. We had a routine which could not be broken without his
snorting disapproval. I grabbed the wheelbarrow and headed into the shed for hay. I filled it and pushed the heavy load towards the corral.

A new sensation created goosebumps over my body. I felt watched, causing an itch between my shoulder blades. Roofus began to neigh, snort,
and dance at the gate while tossing his head. I frowned, unsure of what it meant. The air filled with the scent of unfamiliar spices.

“Ah, the Braider is still young.” A deep, masculine voice remarked
, to my left. Standing tall and proud, a male with strawberry blonde hair, a heavily muscled frame, leather boots, pants and some kind of leather armor. In his right hand, a hammer glinted in the sun.

“She'll be easy to subdue. You were right, Thor.”
The woman stood as tall as my dad, around six foot. She had long brunette hair, dancing in silky waves on the light breeze and lightly tanned skin. She wore an outfit similar to the illustrations of history books about Greek gods. Slung over her back, bow and arrows, the deadly steel arrowheads shining in the late afternoon sun.

Both wore expressions of sneering disdain.

“Can I help you?” My voice shook.

“Oh, yes. You will do exactly as Artemis and I tell you. Or your mother dies.” Thor laughed, deadly intent easy to read on his handsome features.

In my head, I could see strings, bright and shining, vibrating, begging to be made into something else. I could see the two standing before me at the same time several little movies played on the inner TV screen. My hands felt hot and I looked down in surprise. My palms slowly turned bright red, heat suffusing up my arm. Instincts fired, telling me to move the strings in my head, change the situation. Grandma’s words from the previous year whispered.

“Oh, little mortal, you don't yet carry the power to change
,” Artemis laughed.

Anger exploded. Bullied for the past few years, it was more than my temper could take. My hands moved slowly upwards, palms facing the two making fun of me. I heard Roofus neigh loud, almost trumpeting. I dropped a previously unknown guard
, released something for which I had no name, and flew backwards into the little storage building.

I lost my breath
, but stood on shaky legs. I gaped at the two large people picking themselves off the ground. I heard pounding footsteps and Mom yelling my name, even as Dad ran out, both making a beeline for me. A roar overhead snapped my gaze upwards, gaping at the vision of a huge black dragon circling overhead.

S
everal people appeared, including a huge black wolf. The wolf snarled at Thor, and strangers tried to stand in front of me. I could see swords clashing in the bright afternoon sun, the sounds making me wince and hesitate.

The hammer in Thor's hand slammed against the wolf's head, as
Artemis's arrows felled others. I couldn't keep up with the chaos.

Mom swept me off my feet, holding tightly, while Dad turned to face the threats. Thor threw his hammer at Dad and I watched in horror as it almost rent my father in two. He crumpled to
the ground. Blood flowed freely from his mouth and the gaping wound in his mid-section. “Get her out of here. She isn't safe,” he gasped, the sound wet.

Thor laughed as Artemis made several comments regarding how pretty the blood of mortals looked against spring grass.

Mom held my head close to her collarbone, screaming, “Tiamat! Help!” She ran, holding a thirteen year old weighing in at a little over hundred pounds. I peeked over her shoulder in time to see the deadly hammer a split second before it crushed my mother and she tossed me forward, her last words, “Run, baby, run!”

I froze,
watching her fall to the ground in slow motion, her back a mass of ground meat, wide open, the white of her spine glinting in the sun, blood pouring over her sides and into the grass.

I shook free of the panic,
turned and ran. The picture of strings becoming clearer with each step. Unsure of how, I knew which ones would change events and save my parents.

The dragon landed hard enough to shake the ground. I skidded to a stop, pinwheeling and trying to change direction.
I fell backwards, but quickly tried to run, feet sliding on the grass, unable to gain purchase.

“Wait, come to me, Kylie! Don't!”
Its voice had a feminine quality while deep and growling. Smoke curled out of her nostrils and she took a deep breath before aiming slightly to the side. A loud roar and fire bellowed out of her throat. I covered my ears, my unheard screaming swallowed by the mighty dragon’s bellow. Her fire encompassed the two strangers, making them turn and cover themselves. She’d given me a much needed moment.