But I was starting to believe, deep down, that maybe it just wasn't enough. And that was without the darkness rising within me. Because as much as I missed the good things, the time apart had given me plenty of time to think. And I was starting to think that maybe there are just some things you can’t come back from.
When I had my blackouts, I had visions of murdering him, brutally, in ways that made me sick. And even though I'm hurt, I know I'd never do any of those things to him. It was this… thing. Whatever it was that was inside me. It was even more bloodthirsty than I was, and it wanted to hurt everyone I cared about. Especially him, because he was mine. I'd claimed him, and I cared about him. It hated him. It regarded him with loathing and jealousy. I knew that without knowing how, and that alone scared the shit out of me.
I'd tried to talk Nain out of this dozens of times. But my ex-husband was not the most accommodating man. And he'd finally just growled that I needed to get the fuck over it, that I was being weak.
And he knows me well enough to know which buttons to push. The weakness button is almost guaranteed to make me move my ass.
So there we were. I just wanted to get through the meeting without crying. Or, you know… killing anybody. Either or.
“I'm going to say as little as possible. Maybe this will be quick and painless,” I said to them as the elevator creaked up to the main living area.
We poured out of the elevator, and I lifted my hand to knock on the heavy mahogany door that led into the loft. When I'd lived here, I'd just walked in. But this wasn't my home anymore, and I wasn't going to let myself fall into my old habits now.
Any
of my old habits.
I was relieved when it was Ada who answered the door. She smiled when she saw me, pulled me into a huge hug, and I hugged her back. “Good to see you again, baby girl,” she said softly, and I gave her another squeeze. She greeted the rest of my team, and they greeted her politely, Shanti and Levitt hugging her when they stepped into the loft.
I could feel him. Our connection was still alive, and I could practically feel every breath he took. I could feel his eyes on me; need, raw anger flowing from him like lava. It was agony. I took a breath, and we followed Ada into the dining room, my team trailing behind me. Nain, Brennan, Stone, and Chief Jones were all sitting at the dining room table. Brennan's son, Sean, played quietly in a playpen nearby.
Nain stood, eyes on me. Then he glanced at my team.
“Didn't know you traveled with an entourage now, Molls,” he said, deep voice practically making the floor vibrate.
“Yeah, well. You know me. There's nothing I like more than feeling important. Hence: entourage.”
He studied me for a minute, and I kept my eyes on him. He knew at least a little bit of what was happening with me. I'd confessed it to him before I'd moved out, warned him he might have to try to put me down. Told him how to do it. And we’d worked together a few times over the past few weeks. He’d seen, close up, how hard I fought against the darkness. How close I was to losing it.
“You look good,” he said, and I felt the usual from him: anger, desire. Mixed together. It was our signature blend. Always had been.
I just nodded, not really in the mood for making nice. Please, let's just get this over with, I thought to myself. Then Chief Jones shook my hand, said a few words in greeting, and Stone wrapped me up in a huge bear hug.
Brennan stayed where he was. He seemed unable to stop looking at me, and I did my best to avoid looking at him. But I failed, as usual, and when I looked at him, our eyes met.
“Hey,” he said quietly.
I nodded at him then looked away, unable to trust my voice. Jesus, I just wanted to make it through this so I could go home and bury my face in my pillow and scream. I sat down, and my team arrayed themselves behind me. They stood, Levitt and Shanti at attention, hands folded behind their backs. My parents and Hephaestus stood with their arms crossed, watching everything. Especially me. And Eunomia took the seat beside me. My right hand. She was able to read me better than most, and I needed her now because I couldn't trust myself.
Gods. He was sitting right the hell there. Not even six feet away from me and everything sane in me, the part of me that had claimed him, bonded him to me, screamed in desperation, needing to be closer to him. And the thing inside rose, wanted to see him bleed. And I sat there, and tried to ignore the fact that my heart broke a little more every single time I saw him, remembering that no matter how much he'd claimed to love me, it hadn't been that hard for him to warm someone else's bed.
I tamped it down. I'd made my decision for a reason, and I'd stick to it no matter how good he smelled or how much I'd missed his touch. And there was something I had to do, something I'd known for a while I'd have to do, and I kept putting it off. Today was the day. I just had to get through this first.
“Okay,” I said. “I'm here. Let's get this over with.”
Nain nodded, took his seat after I was settled in mine. “Strife. You know more than any of us do about her. What can you tell us?”
I took a breath, forced myself to focus. “She's a spirit daemon. Not quite as powerful as immortals like my parents.”
“Or like you,” Nain put in, and I hesitated, nodded.
“But powerful enough in her own way. She works with witches, especially, tells them how to do spells they'd never be able to do on their own. She incites chaos, and the more she causes, the stronger she becomes. It feeds her, kind of the same way anger and pain strengthens us,” I said this last part more to Nain, and he nodded. “She's pissed. She was friends with a couple of immortals I ended. She wants revenge on me and she knows enough to know that taking her shit out on this city is a decent way to get back at me.”
“So is that all there is to her game? Just cause chaos?” Jones asked.
I shrugged. “My guess is she's biding her time. Building her strength. Probably rebuilding her team, since I destroyed her old one.”
“And there's another one, right?” Jones asked, shaking his head.
“Yeah. The spirit of terror. They're likely working together. What's better than fear and chaos, right?”
“Shit,” Jones said, sitting back. He'd heard some of this before, but he still wasn't any happier about it. I knew he blamed me for the troubles his city had to deal with. He wasn't exactly wrong.
Eunomia leaned toward me and I tilted my head toward her. “Do you need a break?” she asked softly.
“I’m fine,” I said. The truth. The longer I sat there, the easier it became to quiet the thing inside me, even with Brennan sitting right there. Good. It would make it that much easier to do what I knew I had to do before I left.
“So what's the plan, Molls?” Nain asked. I looked back up at him.
“We're doing the same thing you guys are doing. Trying to find even the smallest lead to her. So far, we've come up with jack. It's like she doesn't exist, except for the fact that we're still seeing her mark show up in places. Graffiti in alleyways, carved into trees. At least not in any bodies lately. Unless you guys have found something like that,” I finished.
Nain shook his head. “No, we've seen the same thing you have. She seems to have let up on the killing. That makes me feel like some bad shit is on the horizon.”
I nodded. “Me too. I wish I knew more. I’ve asked my parents,” I said, gesturing back toward Hades and Tisiphone, “and they have said pretty much what we already know: she's likely lying in wait. She's good at hiding, sticking to the shadows, working her angle without anyone knowing she's doing it.”
“What about getting rid of her?” Nain asked. “Can she be killed? Or is this another one of those things only you can do?”
I turned to my father. “Do you want to explain this one?”
Hades nodded. “The spirit daemons can’t actually be killed. Think of it this way: they’re the physical entity, an avatar, if you will, of the emotions of humanity. They exist because mortals feel these things. So unless mortals stop causing chaos, or stop feeling angry, or honest, or whatever it is, that’s the only way a spirit daemon can truly cease to be.”
“Great,” Jones groaned. “So what does that mean for us?”
“It’s not as bad as you think, shifter,” Hades said. “It’s complicated. As I said, these are avatars of the different spirits. You can destroy the avatar, the physical manifestation of the spirit. Eventually, it will just develop a new avatar. They never really go away.”
“So she’s just going to pop up in a new body later?” Stone asked.
“Yes, and no,” Hades answered. “Strife will have a new body, but that new being won’t be the same as this one. The next avatar will have its own memories, its own agenda. It will have its own loves and hates.”
“So the next avatar of Strife won’t want to destroy my city over a grudge?” Jones asked, and my father and I both nodded. “You’re sure?” Jones asked, looking right at my father. I had to give it to the chief: dude had guts. Most beings wouldn’t even think of challenging my father.
“Yes. We’ve done it before.”
“So this isn’t something Molls has to do on her own, then?” Nain said, repeating his initial question.
“No, it isn’t,” Tisiphone said. “We can kill her. It’s likely a very strong mortal could even kill the avatar, though I don’t recommend trying. She’ll only get more powerful the longer she’s here.”
“I don’t want any of you facing off against her, thinking you’re gonna be a hero,” I said, looking straight at Nain. “Just because you’ll ‘probably’ be able to kill her doesn’t mean you should try. She’s mine,” I finished, and I heard the snarl in my voice. I took a deep breath, tamping down the rage beginning to rise within me again.
“How do the avatars get reborn, or whatever?” Nain asked my father. “Does it work the same way it did with me and Molly when we came back?”
I felt a wave of irritation roll off of Brennan, and glanced over at him. He was looking at the table top, avoiding my eyes.
Hades nodded. “Pretty much.”
“Here’s a question: has anyone figured out yet what the hell is going on with Molly?” Brennan asked, finally speaking up. He was still looking at the table. The room went silent.
“We are not discussing me,” I said. My team had tensed around me. Anger rolled off of them. They were loyal, protective. And the one thing we’d all agreed on was that the fewer people who knew about my issues, the better.
“So, no, then,” Brennan said.
“We’re not talking about it,” Nain growled. On the same page as me for once. I liked the chief. I loved Ada and Stone. But they were not in my inner circle, and the chief especially already had issues with me.
Chief Jones opened his mouth.
“Don’t bother, mortal,” Hades said, and Jones closed his mouth, irritated.
Nain shot another glare in Brennan’s direction, then he looked at me. “What do you need from us? How can we help you find this bitch?”
I shook my head. “I wish I knew. If I had even the slightest idea of how to find her, I'd be tracking her ass down now. The only thing we've come up with is to try to watch the news and the chief's reports more closely, try to find patterns. Higher rates of crimes concentrated in a particular area. People will feel her presence, even if she's not trying. Things should be rougher in any area she's settled in.”
“And if she hasn't settled anywhere, then we have nothing,” Jones said.
“Right,” I agreed. “I’m sorry. It's all I have for you.”
We sat for a while longer, sharing the few, almost worthless things we knew. Jones agreed to pull some reports together and send them over to Nain and I, and I hoped we'd find something that way. Jones left pretty quickly after. I glanced over at Brennan, who was still sitting there simmering.
“I need to talk to you a minute,” I said.
He nodded. Need, mixed with irritation. I'd felt it, every time Nain and I had exchanged a word during the meeting. One more reason to do this, now.
We walked to the far corner of the loft, to two chairs in the corner of the living room, near the windows. He reached out to touch me, and I flinched back. Anger washed over me again.
“What? I can't touch you?”
“I need to be able to focus,” I said, watching him.
“Apparently answering phone calls is too much to ask. Or does that make it too hard to focus as well?” He asked this last with a bit of a sneer in his voice that I didn't like. I knew he was hurt, frustrated. I got it. But I'd tried the best I could to make it clear that I was trying to keep him safe.
“I have been trying to get my head straight. It hasn't been easy,” I said in a low voice. “So yes. I haven't been answering the phone—”
“You answer when he calls you,” he interrupted.
I stared at him. “Really? Are we back to this?”
“It kind of seems like we are. Especially when he came home the other night and I could smell you all over him.”
“Then you also smelled the fucking werewolves we fought off together. And you know what? I don’t have to explain myself to you. I’m doing the best I can, and you’re not helping.”
“Right. How often do you talk to Nain on the phone again?”
I didn’t answer.
“I know how often. It’s at least once a day.”
“About work shit, Brennan,” I said, shaking my head.
“What else am I supposed to think, when you answer his calls but can't be bothered to answer mine?”
“You're supposed to think of what I've told you, and understand that this is time I need.” I glared at him until he finally looked away. He was making this easier every second. “Listen. I'm trying to get a handle on this thing. And it's hard. It's getting harder all the time. I think it would help me a lot if you broke your bond to me.”
He snorted. “Right.”
“Brennan. I’m not messing around here… ”
“You want it broken so I won't know when you're with someone else,” he said, obviously looking toward where Nain stood talking to my father on the other side of the loft, near the kitchen.
My jaw dropped open. Of all the things he could have said, that was about the last thing I'd expected. “Are you serious? Messing around is the last thing on my mind. That's more your territory, isn't it?”