Chapter 37 #3
Dressed in an elaborate gown, with a crown of flowers in hair that shifted color like a restless prism from blue to purple, then black, and back again, the woman was stunning.
From the bronze of her skin with red undertones to her voluptuous curves and sultry lips, Santa Muerte’s entire body made her appealing and inviting to those who would meet her at the end of their lives.
Elsie saw no sign of the Shadow King, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t lurking somewhere out of view, skulking and waiting for his next chance at making another attempt on her mother’s life.
Santa Muerte laughed, a light, musical sound, then glanced over and saw Elsie. Her smile softened for a second before growing brighter and wider, flashing perfectly white teeth.
Stolas hopped around to face her. He ruffled the feathers on his wings and let out a deep croaking sound in greeting.
“Mija,” her mother said softly, reaching out a hand to beckon Elsie closer. “Ven, déjame mirarte.”1
Her mother spoke in a language Elsie hadn’t heard spoken in sixteen years, but she still understood perfectly. She closed the distance between them and took her mother’s offered hand, allowing the goddess to look her over with a discerning eye.
“They have not taken good care of you.” Santa Muerte’s eyes were sharp, but her tone quickly turned loving. “But you have become lovely despite their neglect.”
She took Elsie’s other hand and squeezed it. “You have power, child, even more than I expected. I’m pleased. You will be capable of doing your duty well.”
Elsie assumed her mother spoke of her duty as a reaper, but she’d never been entirely sure what the deity meant. She often spoke in what may as well be riddles.
Santa Muerte stood and brushed her fingers along the visible lines of the seal at Elsie’s throat. She froze, thinking this must be it! The moment the seal would finally come off and she’d be given full access to her magic.
She was mistaken.
“I am sorry to say that your father still lives, and he has not relented in his quest to find you.” The goddess rested her hands on Elsie’s shoulders.
“However, you are ready to learn to fight and protect yourself, should he come for you in the future. I would have put off our reunion further, but the seal is fading, as it was meant to do.”
Elsie took a step back, her whole face furrowing into a frown. “You’re going to reseal it?” she asked. She didn’t dare ask the other question plaguing her mind. Was the seal fading the only reason her mother had come?
“No, mija. Estar tranquila.2 I am going to bring you to the one place where it can be safely removed. It is a planet in another dimension, called Molta. It is where you will train and take the first steps toward fulfilling your destiny.”
Destiny. Elsie brushed it off, remembering how often her mother brought up such nonsense in her childhood. “I have to find someone before we leave. He’s–”
“Your mate, I’m aware.” Her mother spoke in such a kindly tone that it almost obscured the implications behind her words. Almost, but not quite.
“Wait, wait—you knew about him?” Elsie asked.
“Of course I did,” Santa Muerte laughed. “I know you believe that I abandoned you, child, but I checked in from time to time, to ensure that you were healthy and treated with the respect you deserve. I will say that it came as quite a surprise when you chose to join them.”
Elsie pulled out of her mother’s grasp, unable to fully wrap her head around what she’d heard.
“I was bored out of my mind! If you’ve been watching me this whole time, why didn’t you ever reach out? Couldn’t you see how much I missed you? Do you know what I was forced to do to him?” she demanded. Stolas croaked a warning, his glittering black eyes focused on her.
“You think me cruel,” Santa Muerte said.
Elsie didn’t reply, waiting for an answer to her questions. Stolas answered instead. The prince of a thousand hell dimensions transformed into his human form, his scowl exactly as terrifying as Elsie remembered.
“You still speak like a child,” he scolded. “Petulant, whiny. You have no concept of how much effort the goddess put into ensuring you were raised properly. Most of your siblings were raised by nursemaids from the moment they were born. Not one of them spent as much time with her as you did.”
Elsie’s chin raised with pride. “Is that supposed to make me feel special? Abandoning a child at seven is not something to boast about! Not raising your own children isn’t either!”
“Do you think Santa Muerte has time for child-rearing? Imagine if the Goddess of Death were expected to take a twenty-year break every time she birthed a daughter. Who’d be there to greet those needing passage to the afterlife?
She cares for each of you and watches over you.
You were given preferential treatment and you still complain? ” he seethed.
“Do you always make excuses on her behalf?” Elsie snapped back. Stolas’ face went cold.
“That’s enough, Stolas. I’m sorry, Elspeth, but you needed to be prepared for what is to come.
You needed to experience life from the side of those who would oppose you.
The hunters are not the worst you will face in your endeavors, but they will forever remain a lesson and reminder of who you are not.
And you will need that lesson in the years to come. ”
“That’s a shit explanation,” Elsie growled, channeling her mate’s winning personality without even realizing it.
“Why didn’t you come before now? I know Charlamagne is still out there, I had to kill one of his envoys the same day I lost my mate.
And you knew about it?! Do you even care how much pain we’re in?
You could have stopped it from happening! ”
“It’s true. Had I intervened, your mate might have stayed by your side for longer. I chose not to.”
Elsie glared daggers at her mother. The goddess who had chosen to let her live in misery while claiming to be a loving parent.
She reached above her shoulder and pulled Saint’s sword free, liking the extra weight. Her strikes would land harder with this thing. Stolas’ calm face distorted into disbelief, but Santa Muerte stopped him with a flick of her eyes.
“Do not interfere,” she said, and the raven prince backed down.
Elsie was at her in a flash, and she didn’t hold back. Swinging the sword harder and faster than ever before. She sent a flurry of attacks at her mother, desperately trying to inflict at least a scratch. A few drops of blood.
She couldn’t touch the goddess.
Santa Muerte moved just enough to avoid the blade so every swing missed. She didn’t even bother taking out the massive scythe that was her weapon. The goddess had no need to properly defend herself against her half-fae child.
“You’d have to use magic to even have a chance, Elspeth,” Santa Muerte’s voice stayed calm, as though her own child weren’t frantically trying to cause her pain.
“Magic?” Elsie laughed hysterically. “You weren’t there to teach me any fucking magic!
I worshiped you!” Elsie shouted, redoubling her efforts and getting serious.
She wouldn’t be able to get a single hit in if she wasn’t trying to kill the woman.
The sword arched, and Santa Muerte dodged it, but she hadn’t noticed the knife Elsie had pulled.
It didn’t cut the goddess, but Elsie had managed to put a hole in that pretty dress of hers.
“I trusted you. Believed in you! You were my mother,” Elsie sobbed, continuing the attack, her strikes growing even faster as the anger fueled her actions.
“I am your mother.”
“I thought you loved me!” Elsie screamed. She dropped the sword and pulled out another knife. She wanted to get closer. She wanted to look into Santa Muerte’s eyes when she made that connection.
“Oh, child. I do love you.”
“LIAR! Mothers who love their children don’t throw them away and force them to live horrible lives! You chose the fast and convenient way to teach me life lessons. The lazy way! You didn’t want to have to act like a parent!” Elsie’s onslaught continued, and Santa Muerte finally had to concentrate.
“What I did for you is similar to what you did for your Tobias, Elspeth. My actions were for your protection.”
“Do not speak his name!” Elsie demanded.
The tears were starting to obstruct her vision, but that didn’t stop her.
She dropped the knives and grabbed her mother’s dress, pulling the goddess close.
“He was in real, imminent danger! They slaughtered his entire family, enslaved him, and scheduled his death for defending me. You do not get to set me aside claiming the boogeyman was coming for me, then compare the situations.”
She punched the goddess of death in the face.
Stolas snarled, but he stayed right where he was, obeying Santa Muerte’s orders. The goddess’s head rocked back, and for several seconds, instead of her mother’s face, Elsie saw the toothy grin of a skull staring back at her in surprise. She punched her again. And again.
She shoved the goddess to the ground and climbed on top of her, hitting the woman who had put her through so much until she had no strength left. Barely able to lift her fists, Elsie hit her one more time. Blood, Santa Muerte’s and her own marred her knuckles.
Sobbing with renewed grief, Elsie rolled to the side and tucked up her legs, thumping her forehead onto her knees.
“I hate you,” she cried.
Santa Muerte sat up without a single complaint, then reached out and petted her daughter’s hair.
“Don’t touch me!” Elsie demanded, shrinking out of the way. “I can’t stand it.”
“Entiendo, mija. I understand. You are destined to live a hard life. At least at the start. You may not approve of my choices, but I did what I had to do to make sure you survived. You are too important to be coddled and pampered,” Santa Muerte tried to placate her.
Elsie glared at her, pleased by the single line of blood where she’d split her mother’s lip. She refused to entertain the idea that the goddess had allowed it out of pity.