Chapter 34
Elysia’s eyes flew open, and a cold sweat coated her body. Her fingers grasped the bedding reflexively. Checking and testing. Making sure this was real.
She’d made it back. And she was in her room. She patted a hand down her body. In one piece at that.
Beatriz sat slumped and sound asleep in a chair with her feet propped up. Drool trickled down the corner of her mouth, and one hand was half shoved into the waistline of her pants. Jessa lay stretched out on the floor with an arm folded behind her head.
Footsteps sounded outside the door. Elysia was standing with her knife drawn before the door so much as cracked.
The Doorman entered with an amused smile. “Charming, aren’t you?”
Elysia’s shoulders slid back down, and she tucked the dagger away. “Is it odd that I’m almost glad to see you?”
The Doorman wrapped her fingers around a mug and nudged Jessa with the toe of her pointed leather boot, but Jessa’s mouth just opened wider on a soft snore. “Between these two, you would have been dead had anyone else snuck in here.” The Doorman glanced up. “Also, did you know there’s a man sitting on your roof? Looks an awful lot like a certain prince, but what do I know about these things...”
Elysia groaned and grabbed a pillow off her bed, launching it at her sister’s face where it hit its target with a satisfying smack.
Beatriz startled awake with a garbled sound and promptly snatched a brass candlestick holder from Elysia’s nightstand, brandishing it violently through the air.
The Doorman stared at this as if it were the most adorable sight. “You’re getting much faster, my love. Well done.”
Elysia looked between the two of them incredulously. Seriously ? “She was asleep with drool running down her face. As you just said , I’m fairly certain she would’ve been dead if anyone had broken in here. That I would have been dead.”
The Doorman frowned. “Positive reinforcement is a much better tool than verbal flagellation, Elysia. Sometimes I think you two were raised by demons the way you respond.”
Elysia rubbed her eyes, mumbling to herself, “The Doorman. The Doorman is telling me my damages. Perfect.”
The bedroom window popped open, and the prince stuck his head in from where he had been apparently sitting on the ledge and surveilling the situation.
“They really are snarly little beasts sometimes. I’ve tried training her, but…” The prince shrugged as if it were too great a burden for even him to bear.
Elysia grabbed the nearest tome from her desk and chucked it with all the force she could gather straight at his chest. The book hit his chest with a thump, both his arms reflexively flapping and letting go of the building.
Elysia watched him fall straight back and down out the window. Good riddance. A muffled groan echoed up to the flat. She turned and faced the room again. “He thinks now is the time to find his sense of humor again? Ugh.”
Jessa sat up with a yawn. “What the fuck was that noise?”
“Elysia’s bound and determined to assassinate the prince. I tried so hard to stop her...” The Doorman fanned her fingers and examined her nails.
Still off kilter from her travels, Elysia’s temper cracked. “I swear to the undead fucking gods if you all don’t get your shit together—do you think this is a carnival? A time for laughs and half-assed measures? I go to the realm of the dead and you’re taking a nap? Are you kidding me right now?”
Elysia marched over to the window, slamming it shut and locking it this time. “You couldn’t even manage to lock a window, Beatriz? Honestly, it’s like you wanted something to go wrong.”
Jessa cleared her throat and cut in before the Parkers could scratch and hiss away the time. “If we could redirect our attention to Elysia visiting a death god?”
All the girls fell quiet, and Elysia deflated, the familiar restriction of shame and fear tightening within her. She’d failed them. She’d failed all of them. Her beloved home with its beautiful, stubbornly colorful doors and all its people. Not that they’d ever know. But she had.
“Do you think we could make some tea?” Disappointment softened all of their faces, and Elysia swallowed against the sinking pit in her stomach.
Jessa hesitated as she walked past before finally wordlessly clapping a hand on Elysia’s shoulder in silent solidarity. Elysia looked down at the floor, feeling her face tense against tears that suddenly wanted to flow. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. It had been a long shot and yet she clearly had been banking on it more than she realized to feel this bleak and miserable now.
A few minutes later, they were all curled up like cats amongst the couch, pillows, and blankets of Elysia’s living room. Scents of chamomile and lavender curled into the air. She was glad she’d remembered to snag some tea off of Lynd because tonight called for a little warmth and was well worth the indulgence.
Beatriz plunked down her mug, seemingly tired of waiting. She’d been making faces for the past five minutes while she sipped her tea and apparently had hit her limit of pretending to like the taste of dead plants.
“So, death god, undead god of the dead. What’re we workin’ with? Negotiations? A deal? Hit me.” She rubbed her hands together.
Elysia took in the razor glint of excitement and something akin to lust shining in her sister’s eyes with some perplexity. “You get off on this shit, don’t you?”
The Doorman grinned with pride and ran perfectly manicured fingers down Beatriz’s silky locks. “Obviously. You’re not the only talented Parker, Elysia.”
Triz shushed her girlfriend by pressing an indelicate hand over her painted mouth and didn't seem to mind when sharp teeth caught her fingers. “So?”
Elysia set her mug on the floor and avoided eye contact as she answered. “There’s no deal. No negotiations. The bastard wants me to find a talisman to unlock his bound powers. Long story short, he fucked up a deal and now Kava and his realm are screwed. He’s useless.” She bit off the words and folded her arms.
Triz waggled her brows. “What kind of talisman?”
“For the undead gods’ sake, Beatriz, I am not hunting for an object that could be anywhere . I’m not a treasure hunter! It’s a terrible deal. Actually, it’s worse than a terrible deal. It’s a trap. I refuse to be the one who pays the price for this god’s stupidity. He got us all into this mess and he can figure out a solution himself.”
The Doorman toyed with a strand of Triz’s hair. “Then what do you propose? Since he’s so useless.”
Elysia sat up and shot the Doorman a look. “I propose that we do what we should have done in the first place—we get the dirt we need to make a better deal. I don’t buy that this is the best he can do. If anyone can find a chokehold on someone, it’s me, and I swear I will find the secret that will bend this god’s will. He gave me two weeks to return.”
The Doorman shivered and fanned herself. “Good night , you could have just told us he’s hot as the death realm itself and that your panties are in a twist. No wonder you negotiated so terribly.” She patted Elysia’s knee. “It’s okay, darling, we can train that out of you. You’ve spent far too much time with only one man, but the House always provides what you need.” She dropped a coy, understanding sort of look in Elysia’s direction.
Beatriz made barfing noises, while Elysia glared silently at them all.
Jessa’s eyes went wide at Elysia’s reaction, her eyebrows practically to her hairline. “Oh my gods, you really did have it out for the god of the dead. Soot and storms, Elysia, first a prince who could turn you in and have you hung at any last breath, and now the god of the dead? You need serious help.” She hooted mercilessly, and Elysia turned a vibrant shade of red.
“I do not,” she muttered. “And his name is Aidan.”
All three women blinked.
“He has a name?” Beatriz looked repulsed by this.
“He has three pint-size dogs and a beautiful home.”
They all sat back and pondered this for a moment until Beatriz finally got down to it. “Alright. So, he’s sexy. He's got three tiny-ass dogs. And we need a secret to force his hand. Anything else I’m missing?”
Elysia nodded at her sister’s summary. “We each belong to an important sector. Beatriz, you’ve got the undead market. I don’t know what your business is, but I’m not stupid—you're moving something. Jessa, you run a bar that caters to people who travel the seas and keep our city running. People treat them as if they’re invisible—which means secrets are spilled around them constantly, so get nosy, ask questions. And Doorman, well, you have the House.”
Beatriz’s mouth flapped open wordlessly as she sputtered at being found out, but her girlfriend just patted her hand and shushed her.
Jessa frowned. “What about you? You’re the one who can sniff out a secret like a dog’s behind.”
Elysia grimaced. “Thank you for that, Jessa. What a painting of my skills. I will assist all of you, but... I will also visit the librarians and the office in charge of the census. Find out if any of the death priestesses survived the aftermath of the Fall. Oh, and I want to see if that old meela is still around.”
Jessa leaned back on one elbow. “I thought it was common knowledge that all the priests and priestesses were killed by the king’s edict after the Fall, and I hate to break it to you, but the meela is long gone. She never stays more than the days it takes her to get to Bellia.”
Elysia shook her head. “There were some priestesses so powerful that they were afraid to kill them. The thought being it's best not to murder those with a supposed direct line to the gods even if magic is gone.”
Everyone fell silent at that. Lost in thoughts of abandoned temples, rituals, and magic long buried. The people they knew and didn’t know who had lost their lives over the years for so much as a spark of magic surviving.
“It’s not likely we’ll find anything. There’s every chance we’ll be right back where we started and I’ll regret not getting on a ship out of here, but what we’re doing matters. If there’s a chance that someone else can grow up differently... then it’s worth it,” Elysia said quietly.
The words were as much for herself as they were for others. Even though the women in her living room knew that none of them called her on it. Instead, they raised their long-cold teas in the air.
Beatriz shoved her mug against the others. “To the women whose names are never known who fix the mistakes of men that we all may have better lives.”