Chapter 30
“Can you save him?” Abbie asked the Aether. Odds were, he wouldn’t, considering he hadn’t wanted to involve himself with her more minor problems. But she had to ask.
“I’m going to do my damnedest,” he replied with a warm smile. When she didn’t return it, he sobered. “Please accept my humble apology for not assisting you when you needed me most.”
“You did what you thought best,” she allowed.
He grimaced. “A miserable excuse by anyone’s standards. My youthful ignorance kept me from doing what was right, and I’m sorry.”
The centuries had been kind to Damian Dethridge, at least in looks. If possible, he was more devastatingly handsome than he had been.
“You saved me from Morcunt,” she said simply. “Asking for more seems selfish.”
She turned, ready to complete her new mission.
“Don’t do it, Abbie,” he advised.
She hesitated, then glanced over her shoulder. “Do what?”
“Don’t go after him alone. It won’t end well for you.”
“And who should I take? Or should I let that fucker loose on the unsuspecting world?”
“You’ll take Royal, and let him finish what he started.”
She looked down at the body of the man who had protected her from his cronies. “I don’t understand.”
“He has survived Morcant for two years, living under his radar. If anyone can go up on that mountain and not give you away with excessive emotion, it’s him. A sneak attack has its advantages.”
“But he doesn’t possess any magical abilities,” she protested. “He’s powerless against the electrical blasts. It’s why he’s lying there.”
“And you’re not, chér?” modern-day Draven asked her.
“Morcunt just hit me with one, and I’m still breathing, so…” She shrugged and grinned up at him. “By the way, I’m glad you’re still kicking.”
“Me, too, if only to be here for your return.”
He hauled her into his embrace, hugging her as if she mattered, and Abbie drank in the love.
“And Jonas?” she asked when he finally released her. “Where is… oh.”
The regret in his whiskey-colored eyes shot straight to her heart, wounding her with the knowledge that one of her favorite people was no longer around.
“Evie and Nate?”
“They became Guardians, like Masters,” Damian explained. “But they crossed over around the time you tumbled into the past.”
“I feel bad I didn’t get to thank them,” she said quietly.
“They would be the first to say don’t stress it,” he assured her. “I’ve known them since I was a small child, and never once did they waver in doing what they believed was right. Unlike me.”
In an impulsive move, she hugged him. “Forgive yourself, okay?”
“My offer to heal you is open-ended, Abbie. Whenever you’re ready.”
With a watery smile and a kiss on his cheek, she nodded. “Thank you. Now, what do we do to save Royal?”
“That’s where I come in.” A blond man with cool eyes shifted forward. “Well, all of us, really.”
“And you are?”
“Trevor Blane. The Aether’s resident Death Dealer.” He cast a mocking smile Damian’s way. “He’s our boss.”
She looked from one to the other, each man holding himself with an ease associated with knowing his own worth and having confidence in his abilities.
“The three of you work for him?”
“Oui. He isn’t so bad after you get to know him.” Draven winked.
“Your accent has changed.” She cocked her head. “But I can’t say exactly how.”
“I spent a lot of time in New Orleans after you returned home.” He tapped his temple. “The memories are still surfacing since the timeline shift.”
She froze. “Did I fuck things up? What about Wilder and my father? Were they able to travel back?”
Trevor shot a confused look at Damian. “Her father?”
“Castor.”
“Oh, fuck. You didn’t tell me that fucking tool would be here, Dethridge,” he complained with a hearty sigh.
“He’s not. At least not yet.” Turning to the third man, who bore a startling resemblance to Abbie’s new dad, the Aether said, “And this is Ronan O’Connor. Your long-lost cousin.”
The man’s grin was reminiscent of Castor’s, roguish and charming, belying the seriousness in his blue eyes. “Sure, and welcome to the family, love. You’re a grand addition.”
“Thank you, cuz,” she replied. “What is your role in all of this?”
“I’m here to help ya send that bastard Morcant back to the past.” His expression turned grim. “Sure, and I’d prefer hell, but a man can’t always choose these things, yeah?”
“I don’t understand.”
“You need extra juice to open the portal again,” Trevor explained. “Until now, you’ve been fueling it with fear. You can’t risk so strong an emotion. Not with Morcant. He’ll snap that shit up.”
“Ronan will be your battery pack, and I’m going to shut off your darker emotions until this is all over,” Damian added.
“Why can’t we just kill him and be done with it?” Her initial plan was going sideways, and didn’t it suck? “That’s what I intended.”
An amused smile curled his mouth. “I’m aware. Thanks to my Oracle daughter, I am also aware of four potential outcomes today. The most promising is the one we are proposing.”
“Do I want to know the others?”
“No.”
“I’ll need to go back to get Wilder and Castor,” she reminded him. “What’s to stop Morcunt from coming back through after all our work?”
“That’s where it’s trickier, chér.” Draven toyed with a coin, weaving it in and out of his fingers in a habitual fashion. Almost like he had a nervous tic, which meant he wasn’t as calm and collected as he presented.
“Lay it on me, my friend. I’m a big girl. I can take it.”
“You cannot return for them.”
His statement was the death knell for her dreams of saving the others.
“Fuck off! I’m not leaving Wilder.”
“I didn’t say you should,” he countered.
“Then what the hell are you saying?” she demanded, battle stance ready.
“You leave it to your brother and niece to bring them back.”
“No. I’m not involving a child in this mess, and I’m certainly not leaving anything to chance.”
“Abbie, you didn’t send them through time. The others did,” Damian said. “They have to be the ones to return them. Like you have to return Morcant to his past.”
It finally dawned on her what they were trying to say. “I was never going to be able to save them?”
“Not alone. Not without your brother.”
“Where is he?”
“He’ll be here as soon as Morcant is taken care of,” Damian assured her. The solemness in his dark eyes registered.
“I’m not surviving this, am I?” she asked as the truth dawned. “Or there’s only a one-in-four chance I will. He’s the backup to bring my father home in case I fail.”
When he didn’t answer, she said, “You can’t have my brother here right now. Why?”
“In one outcome, Morcant steals both sets of powers.”
“Tell me the other three scenarios.”
“Abbie—”
“Tell me, Damian. Don’t let me go up there unprepared.”
“There’s only one that matters, love,” Ronan said. “And I’m after doin’ my feckin’ damndest to see you get through it alive.”
Buying herself a few minutes to think, she studied her surroundings, noting the slight changes over the years. Ten feet away, a body lay covered by a tarp.
Silas.
“Do we revive him, too?” she asked. “Royal... He’ll be crushed by his brother’s death.”
“Isis is allowing one soul to return to maintain the overall balance,” Damian said. “It’s up to you which.”
“What?” She spun back and stared. “Why me? I can’t make a choice like that! What about destiny, or fate, or whatever bullshit thing they like to pull out of their asses?”
The others remained silent, ignoring her dismay.
Kneeling beside Royal, she pressed her palm to his unmoving chest.
“You don’t understand, Damian. He’ll hate me if I let Silas die. It’ll be my fault, like Julia’s death was.”
The air around her grew thick, and a flash of light appeared as a crack formed in the open space across from her. A veil between worlds folded back like a curtain. Out stepped two women and two men. The guys, she knew. The females, she didn’t.
“Royal?” she asked in disbelief.
“Hey, Fire Cat.”
A sob caught her throat, and she stared mutely as he squatted beside her.
“My death was on me.” He wiped the unchecked tears from her cheeks. “I knew better than to walk into the cabin emotionally charged, but my fear for you was too great.”
“If I hadn’t taunted him…”
“No.” His smile was sad. “He lives on chaotic energy, Abbie, but he was losing to your lack of fear. His goal was your power, and murdering me triggered your angst.” After helping her to stand, he kissed her temple. “We’ll beat him this round.”
“But Silas.” She looked over in time to see him hug the redheaded woman. It immediately dawned on her, by passing over to the Otherworld, he’d been reunited with his wife. “Julia?”
Silas smiled at her, his first genuine one since they’d met. “You should know her death wasn’t your fault either, Abbie.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Morcant got to me first after I arrived,” Julia said with a shrug. “He was with rustlers when it happened and recognized me for what I was. He played on my fear, drained my power, and left my body for the others to find.”
“All in hopes we were witches, too,” Silas added. “He intended to steal from us, too. But we were mortal. Non-magical strife will keep him alive until he can get a stronger infusion elsewhere. And his subtle comments did the trick, keeping me bitter.”
Their explanation made a sick sort of sense and went a long way in lifting the guilt from Abbie’s shoulders.
“Who are you?” she asked the exotic woman with the black hair. She wore a watchful expression and a flowing teal dress Abbie would kill to own. “How do you play into this mess?”
“She’s the Goddess Isis,” Damian supplied. Dipping his head in acknowledgment, he said, “Exhalted One.”
The others followed suit, and she figured it was best to join in.
The Goddess bestowed a warm smile upon them before focusing on her. “I wish to speak to Abigail. Alone.”
After they’d walked some distance from their group, Isis faced her.
“You were thrown into a game not of your choosing, and I believe in fairness above all else. I will grant you a single boon, child, but you must give it plenty of thought before asking. For once gifted, it cannot be undone.”
Abbie’s mind blanked. What the hell did one ask of a Goddess? Her heart hammered painfully hard at the base of her throat, so heavily, it threatened to suffocate her.
“Do I have to decide right now?” she asked.
“No.”
The Goddess produced a delicate necklace. “This is wrought from mithril-gold, a divine alloy only existing on the plane of the ethereal.”
The pendant depicted a silver serpent coiled protectively around a five-pointed star cut from a blue sapphire. The serpent’s scales shimmered faintly with threads of lapis and gold. In the hands of the Goddess, they illuminated, pulsing in time with Abbie’s heartbeat.
“The Serpent represents wisdom and healing, in addition to dominion over life and death. It embodies transformation, such as the shedding of skin. Much like your own will be shed when Damian heals you,” Isis said.
“Assuming he will.”
The Goddess lifted Abbie’s chin with the tip of her finger. “He knows my wishes, and fortunately, they align with his. The Aether will restore you to what you once were.”
Uncomfortable under her direct gaze, Abbie gestured to the jewel.
“What does the star signify?”
“Your alignment with cosmic forces, your connection to the Fates, and the divine recognition for what you endured in the trials written for you.” Her smile widened. “It represents your ability to rewrite your story through sheer will, thereby defying them.”
“I gather they’re not happy with me?”Abbie asked.
“You’re not to worry about that meddlesome trio, child.”
“What aren’t you telling me? What does the necklace do?”
“Clever woman,” Isis murmured as she fastened the chain around Abbie’s neck. “Its Divine Function, when invoked, is to shield you from their direct interference. Their threads will not hold when they try to weave manipulation into your life after this moment.”
“I don’t understand why you are helping me,” Abbie said, staring down at the pendant in awe.
“You bore the brunt of their machinations, and still, you choose compassion.”
“No, I—”
“You brought Royal down from the mountain when another would’ve left him to save themselves.
” The Goddess cradled Abbie’s face like a mother does a child when trying to impart important wisdom with tough love.
“That was one of many selfless acts. The Setarekh is a star of protection meant for you, and you alone. When you call me, I will come.”
And like a parent, she kissed Abbie’s marred cheek.
“Be well, child.”
“Thank you, Exhalted One.”