The Underworld (Rhyn Eternal) (7 page)

He glanced at the countdown displayed in the hourglass strapped to his wrist. He was running out of time. Worse – so was she. His bloodmate was strong, but nothing would prevent her from falling into the madness of bloodlust, if he didn’t find her soon.

Darkyn quickened his pace to a run through the possessed forest of the underworld. The underworld and human realms would never recover from the wrath of his demon mercy if he returned from the underworld alone.

Past-Death walked down the hallway once more and paused between the last two doors in the dungeon. She looked from one to the other. There was no way to know what was behind them without opening them.

Which she wasn’t about to do. The deity in her had been scared enough to lock these … creatures up. With no power whatsoever, she wasn’t stupid enough to open the doors.

Then again, she wasn’t convinced this wasn’t a dream. What harm might come of opening a door in a dream?

She pressed her hands to one of them, willing the dungeon to tell her its secrets.

Nothing.

At least they’re still locked.
It was the best sign she was about to get on this trip.

If this was real, she needed to find Deidre, who had been taken from their cell. Past-Death didn’t want to guess what grudge Harmony bore the Dark One or his mate, but she didn’t think Deidre’s treatment here was going to be handled with kid gloves. The fear and urgency she’d experienced watching Deidre being taken was strong in the dream, the urgency real.

She owed it to the woman to try to help her.

Turning, past-Death made her way down the corridor and paused in front of the door to the cell she shared with Jared. The petrified wood was cool beneath her fingertips, and she dwelled on the sensations, not understanding how this was neither a dream nor reality. It wasn’t possible for her to be outside her cell, and yet, it felt so real …

Shaking her head, she continued down the corridor, feeling the familiar sense of safety granted a person who knew they were in a dream. Most of the cell doors were open, the depths empty. A few closer to the entrance were closed, a sign Harmony had tossed others into the dungeon.

Past-Death hesitated at the bottom of the stairwell ascending from the dungeon into the newer of the two basements. There were guards there, she knew, or should be. There had always been guards stationed on the subfloor between the palace proper and the dungeon during her time. If there were keys, she’d be able to find them.

Like this is real.
She hesitated, not convinced there was any use in tracking down keys or Deidre in a dream.

The demon seemed to think she was capable of leaving the cell. Not that she’d ever trust the word of a demon but …

Stranger things had happened. Being alone in her dream was rather peaceful, the stressors of her human life absent.

No harm in looking, especially if I find Deidre.
Past-Death trailed one hand against the wall of the stairwell the way she used to whenever she visited the dungeon.

Back when the palace was hers.

She paused halfway up, remorse and longing settling deep inside her, along with a sense of loss. She’d given up everything to become human and then fucked it all up. If she hadn’t left her position as Death, the underworld and all its souls would be safe. Gabriel wouldn’t be locked out.

They wouldn’t be a part, and she wouldn’t be sad, because she’d lost him.

Anger flared within her, and she shook her head to clear the emotions. She wasn’t certain how to handle the human feelings. Lately, they’d imprisoned her as much as the death dealers, made her incapable of acting, left her spinning out of control.

As a deity, she had never experienced these sensations. As a human who recalled what it was like to be an all-powerful deity, she hated being … vulnerable. Weak. Emotional.

Past-Death continued up the stairs to the second subfloor. It was lined with a few more rooms, some used by her predecessors as torture rooms, as well as guard quarters and supply rooms.

Voices drifted from a doorway on her right, and she stopped at the edge of the door, fear fluttering through her at the thought of discovery.

It’s just a dream,
she reminded herself.

With a deep breath, past-Death entered the room boldly.

The three death dealers acting as guards didn’t look up at her entrance, and she relaxed. They certainly appeared to be very real, but they weren’t able to see her.

Are all human dreams like this?
Past-Death studied the three. She knew them. They were junior death dealers, from the same crop as Harmony, who hadn’t been around for more than five hundred years. She had hand selected every grim reaper she ever conscripted.

How had she missed the warning signs that these particular trained assassins wanted to usurp Death? She’d read their souls when she brought them in. They at least started out as loyal. Was it simply what Gabriel had tried to tell her on many occasions? That compelling the elite killers to work for her was wronging them? The duty was an honorable one, to claim and protect the souls of humans, Immortals and other deities alike. Who would not want to perform such a sacred duty?

Not that it matters now.
She looked away from the three. Whatever mistakes she made in the past, they were done with. Not only that, but Gabriel was smart enough to avoid the same issues she’d somehow created over the years.

Past-Death’s gaze fell to the ancient keys to dungeon cells that hung on one wall. They were in two rows, arranged in the same order that the cells were in, with each key having a duplicate. Doubting anything she did in a dream was going to carryover when she awoke, she plucked up two keys: one to her cell and the other to one of the two cells at the end of the hallway.

Now to find Deidre.
She clutched the keys in her hand, wracking her thoughts to figure out where Harmony might’ve taken the mate of the Dark One.

Two dealers passed by the doorway. One called a greeting into the three and ducked inside, snatching the key to a cell before leaving.

Past-Death stepped away to give him room, unable to shake the instinct that tried to tell her once more that this dream was too real. She trailed the death dealer into the hallway and caught a glimpse of the second one carrying a limp body dressed in black.

Human Deidre. The woman was bloodied, bruised and unconscious, her pink hair spilling over the arm of the death dealer carrying her.

Past-Death gasped, at once swinging to the other end and gratefully reminding herself that this was a dream and nothing else. Because human Deidre appeared dead, or close to it, and the guards had grabbed the key to one of the two cells past-Death knew contained something very dangerous, very wrong.

She started to follow them, a sense of dread heavy in her stomach.

“Hey, cupcake. You’re doing it again.”

Past-Death was jarred awake. It was a little easier this time, though her headache was worse. She pushed herself into a sit, uncertain how she slept at all on the uncomfortable floor.

“Where did you go?” Jared asked with too much interest.

“Why does it matter?” Past-Death grumbled. She glanced towards the corner where the human Deidre had been. “How long was I out?”

“Time here confuses me.”

The weak light of the sun was still visible through the window. Reassured no more than a couple of hours had passed, she wiped her face and went over the dream in her head once more.

Something terrible had happened to Deidre. The idea of the human suffering even more made her nauseated, guilty to the point she wanted to cry.

“I smell blood,” Jared said, tilting his head. His eyes flared with light. As if able to see through the walls, he followed the movement of someone by the cell with his gaze. “Demon blood.”

Weird timing.
If she were still in her dream, she’d be following the death dealers past the cell right about now. Past-Death listened hard for the sounds of someone moving down the hallway. The walls were too thick.

“You’re certain?” she asked.

“I’m starving. I know food when I smell it.”

Past-Death rose to cross to the door and see if she was able to hear anything. The moment she stood, the tinkle of something falling from her lap onto the floor drew her attention.

“You did bring something back,” Jared said, interested. “Keys?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped. She squatted beside the sounds and reached down.

She gasped.

“What?” Jared snapped.

“It can’t be.” Past-Death picked up the two keys from her dream. “It just … can’t be.”

“Keys.” Jared laughed.

“If these are real …” Past-Death’s gaze went to the door and what she knew was beyond.

The death dealers were throwing a near-dead human Deidre into a cell with a creature past-Death didn’t remember.

She crossed to the door with the keys, only to curse. The door could only be opened from the outside using the key.

“I have to get out of here!” she said, slapping the door with her hands.

“
We
, cupcake,” the demon corrected.

“No way in hell, demon!”

“How far do you think you’ll get on your own, even if you leave the cell?” he challenged.

Past-Death paced, half-listening. Her mind was reeling with the idea of human Deidre being fed to some sort of beast, overwhelming her ability to think about what to do.

“If your demon friend is hurt, I can give her my blood,” Jared added.

“Shut up!” she snapped. “You’re a demon! You’ll kill me and then her!”

“I can’t kill her, or the boss won’t be happy,” he replied. “And I’m willing to make you a deal.”

She rolled her eyes and sat down, needing to calm her soaring thoughts in order to make sense of any of them. Another drawback of being human: emotions had a way of clouding every logical thought she had.

She needed to escape, grab Deidre, find Gabriel’s soul and leave. There were so many obstacles between her and those simple goals: finding Gabriel and Deidre, the death dealers, the fact she had to calm down considerably if she wanted to disappear into the dream state again and unlock her own door.

“I can fight,” Jared said. “I will slaughter any death dealer in our path. Free me, and I’ll help you get out of here.”

“I can’t leave her.” Past-Death struggled with her thoughts and feelings. Her head was pounding harder, and she didn’t understand why.

“Then we escape with her,” Jared said easily. “I collect a bounty for returning her to the Dark One, and you don’t get eaten.”

It was bad when a demon started making sense. She debated his offer, knowing how demons revered deals and the power of bargaining among the deities.

“So you don’t eat me - ever. You help me escape and rescue Darkyn’s mate,” she said, thinking carefully. “I’ll free you in exchange for your help.”

“I get to eat the death dealers.”

“I don’t care, Jared. As long as you don’t hurt or eat me and Deidre. No unwritten terms. No modifications or substitutions or creative execution of timeframes.”

“Very well.” He didn’t sound pleased.

She didn’t care. Clutching the keys in one hand, past-Death rose and approached him, hand outstretched.

“Deal,” she said.

“Deal.” He touched her fist with a fingertip, the only part of him capable of reaching her while chained.

“Okay. Now to get out of here. I need to sleep again.” She paced instead. “My head just won’t stop!” Frustrated, she gripped her temples.

“I’d be happy to knock you out.”

“Is it painful?”

“Hopefully.”

“No thanks. I’ve got to do this. I ruled over the Underworld for tens of thousands of years. I can will my stupid human brain to let me think.” With a deep breath, past-Death stretched out on the uncomfortable floor. “Don’t wake me up this time, demon. If you see me fade, leave me alone.”

“Just bring me an arm or leg. I’m so fucking hungry.”

She ignored him and closed her eyes, her thoughts going to the soul in her bedchamber first. She needed to secure Gabriel’s soul, before it was too late, and then find the keys to Jared’s chains.

Come on! Dreamwalk.

“Cupcake, should that be happening?” If not for the odd note in the demon’s voice, past-Death would’ve ignored him.

She cracked open one eye to see what was going on. He was pointing at her feet. She checked to make sure the keys were in her hand still then lowered her arm and looked around her.

A faint grey haze had begun to engulf her, starting at her feet. It didn’t touch her skin but snaked up her body, swallowing her in a soft fog. It was clingy and cool, like walking through the shadow world that existed in the place between portals.

“Oh, fuck,” she mumbled. Her heart felt as if it stopped, and she forgot to breathe. “I was out more than two hours, wasn’t I?”

Jared shrugged, unconcerned. “The suns went down and came back up, but not much time passed.”

“Another day in Hell time must’ve passed.” Past-Death closed her eyes.

“What is it?”