Zora
As the god of Life, and therefore Death, it’s not out of the ordinary for me to travel to the Underworld. It’s the domain where all souls are judged and those worthy are given my gift of reincarnation. Thus, I belong here as much as I do anywhere.
It’s just… when I appear on the Bridge of Judgment, I feel like a stranger despite the fact I was raised here for the first twenty-eight years of my life. It’s empty right now, all souls for the day apparently having been adjudicated.
To my left is the city of Otaxis, made beautiful by magical tweaks from the current king of the Underworld, Amell. The buildings are whitewashed, the streets clean and lit with glowing lanterns, and overhead a midnight sky full to bursting with sparkling stars. Under the bridge flows the Crimson River—red, orange, and yellow swirling—and directly ahead of me is the obsidian castle that rises so high I can’t quite see the top.
I should leave, but I’m restless and I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m an introvert—loner by nature—yet here I am, feeling the need for connection.
I chose to come to Amell rather than my sister, Finley, because I’ve known him longer. While Finley is my identical twin, I’ve only known her for a year.
I’ve known Amell for close to twenty-nine.
Really, since the day I was born.
It doesn’t mean that Amell is more trusted than Finley. In fact, he was instrumental in the plot to hold me captive in the Underworld to help Kymaris, then queen of the Underworld, breach the veil that separated her world from the mortal one so she could wreak havoc and subjugate.
And yet… he’s my friend.
It’s completely dysfunctional, but I’ve learned over this last year that the world is dysfunctional.
No, really… the entirety of the universe is batshit crazy.
I tug on the long braid hanging over my left shoulder, a nervous habit indeed. My curly hair is snow white, hypothesized to be this color from the terrible magics I absorbed for years and years. Finley’s is fiery red, and I suppose mine would be the same had I not been stolen at birth and brought to Hell.
Dropping the braid, I chastise myself. “You can’t be nervous. You’re the freaking god of Life and Death. You’re one of five gods who rule the universe, and every being in this realm could be reduced to ash if you merely wished it so.”
Temporarily buoyed by my personal pep talk, I walk across the bridge and into the castle where Amell resides with his bride, Nyssa.
The minute I enter through the double doors that stand two stories high, I realize I have no idea where to go. I normally materialize right into Amell’s rooms, but with him being newly married, I don’t want to be intrusive.
A bustle of creatures moves about the great hall. Numerous Dark Fae, those fallen angels who God expelled from heaven for their treasonous plans to overthrow him, and daemons—the offspring of Light and Dark Fae mating. Not as populous, but still, many choose to live here. There are even some humans in servitude, having volunteered their time in exchange for something they needed, or having been sacrificed.
“Excuse me,” I say to a woman in brown burlap passing by with a tray of empty wooden cups.
She turns my way, needing no more than half a second to recognize me for the deity I am, and shrieks. The tray falls with a loud clatter, cups rolling askew, and the woman drops to her knees, going prostrate before me. That attracts the attention of everyone in the hall, and in a massive wave, everyone follows suit.
Down to their knees, arms stretched before them, and noses pressed to the floor so as not to gaze upon me.
It’s utterly ridiculous, as I don’t require such acknowledgment, although I’m guessing my predecessor did.
“Stand up,” I snap irritably, and without meaning to, my voice booms through the hall as if speakers surround us. I learned about the miracle of surround sound from Finley’s husband, Carrick, and he helped me outfit my own home entertainment system with it.
Everyone scrambles to their feet, but the poor woman before me looks like she’s about to pass out.
I glance around, trying to find someone who appears brave enough to look me in the eye, and I’m lucky when a Dark Fae walks my way. He doesn’t cower or lower his gaze, and in fact looks supremely confident as he approaches.
He’s beautiful in an evil, Underworld sort of way. Bluish-tinted skin bulging with muscles, silver hair, and shimmering azure eyes that look like faceted jewels. I know him well—he’s Amell’s best friend.
“Truett,” I say with an incline of my head. “It’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you as well,” he says, bending at the waist. “If you’re looking for Amell, he’s not here.”
I cock an eyebrow because Amell has been banished to the Underworld and prohibited from leaving. He previously disobeyed the gods’ command not to interfere in a matter and this is his punishment.
“He’s not here in the castle,” Truett clarifies. “He and Nyssa have traveled to Kasdeya for the day. I could go there now and fetch him for you.”
Kasdeya is one of a few large cities in the Underworld and Amell rules over all of them. It’s not unusual for him to visit, but my timing is disappointing.
I manage a smile. “No, I don’t want to interrupt. This is an informal visit and of no importance. I’ll come back later.”
“Are you sure I can’t—”
I hold up a hand. “No. It’s good. Just tell him I came by.”
“As you wish,” he says, another bend at the waist, but then he fades away as I travel through the veil that separates the Underworld from the First Dimension.
I appear on the front porch of Finley and Carrick’s cliff-side home overlooking the Pacific Ocean outside of Malibu. They recently moved here, having left behind their lives in Seattle.
It was a necessity since technically, Finley is dead to the world. She died of an aneurysm unforeseen by me or any of my brethren gods, but I managed to snag her soul before it left her body. With power I didn’t even fully understand, having only been a god myself for a few weeks, I was able to reform her.
It wasn’t a reincarnation, but a creation. She’s the same Finley, complete with all her memories intact, and she even bears the same scars accumulated in her mortal life. After I breathed new life into her, my brother and sister gods, Cato, Veda, Circe, and Onyx, all channeled enough power into her to grant her the same immortality as her husband, Carrick. However, given she was dead and then brought back to life after the announcement to the world she had died, it was necessary for them to start over with new identities.
My hand reaches out to the doorbell, but I hesitate. Finley is probably the person I should have come to first, but I didn’t because I knew I wouldn’t like her answers. As my sister, she has unconditional love for me and with that comes unconditional truth.
I’m not ready for it.
My hand starts to fall, but to my surprise, the door swings open and Carrick is standing there. I can’t help but jump with a tiny yelp which is totally unbecoming of a god.
“Sorry,” he says with a roguish smile, and I know he’s not sorry at all. “Saw you standing out here in all your indecisive glory and decided to take matters into my own hands. Come on in.”
He steps back, inviting me over the threshold. With no choice now, I enter the house and shoot him a sour look. “I could smite you, you know.”
“You love me, so no, you couldn’t.”
I don’t affirm or deny that statement. I don’t know if I love him or not. It’s one of the reasons why I’m so out of sorts. I’m trying to balance twenty-eight years of mortal life weighed against a year of godly existence. The more time that passes as an Almighty the more removed I feel from emotion, and it’s bothering me. I mean, I wasn’t the warmest and fuzziest person to begin with, but that’s what happens when you’re raised by Dark Fae in the Underworld.
I’m having a hard time reconciling that sometimes I feel deeply while other times I’m numb. I can’t ask my fellow gods because they’ve never been human. They’ve always been as they are, since the dawn of time. They can’t tell me what it feels like to be different, just as I’m sure they can’t tell me if I’ll completely ice over.
Finley can’t tell me that either, but she might have words of wisdom.
She’ll definitely have support and love.
The question is, do I have the guts to straight-up ask her?
“She’s in the kitchen,” Carrick says, and I follow him through the sprawling open-design floor plan. The western-facing side is nothing but floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over the ocean. The views are gorgeous, but they don’t rival the ones from my home.
At least in my humble opinion.
“Zora,” Finley exclaims when she sees me. She drops her sandwich, wiping her hands on her pants, and rushes around the kitchen island to hug me.
I’m relieved by the flood of warmth and tenderness as her arms encircle me. I love her, I’m sure of it. I told her as much right before she plunged a knife into my heart—literally, not figuratively—and killed me.
It was this whole thing to save the world from the evil queen of the Underworld, and it seems like it was eons ago. But so much has happened since then.
“Come sit. I’ll open a bottle of wine. Are you hungry? I can make you a sandwich, or hell… you could use your power to whip us up a five-course meal if you want. I’ve got fancy china I can pull out.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “Not hungry. But I won’t say no to a glass of wine.”
Carrick moves to Finley and kisses her temple with a hand around the back of her neck. “I’m going to be in my office so you two can have sister time.”
I watch carefully as Finley gazes at her husband. There’s a mixture of regret that he’ll be leaving her presence, utter adoration that he’d be so thoughtful, and a hint of pure gratitude to belong to him. In fact, it’s not just her expression that tells me all that.
I can feel the vibe from her and it’s so intense, I wonder what it would be like to feel that way for someone. While I have tenderness and care within me, my formative years were warped. I was never given unconditional love, so I don’t know if I’m capable of giving it myself.
Another question to ask Finley in the long list I’m mentally compiling.
Carrick kisses her again, and she sighs. Her exhale says, “If I died right now, that would be okay.”
But it wouldn’t be okay with me or Carrick, so that’s not happening.
Shooting me a wink, Carrick heads out of the kitchen, grabbing an apple from a bowl on the island. Finley stares after him until he’s out of sight and then turns her besotted gaze on me.
“You’re pathetic,” I mutter.
She gives me a dopey grin. “Can’t help it. He’s perfection.”
I roll my eyes, prepared to point out that he’s a little egotistical, but there’s a huge bang from behind me.
Finley gasps and I spin fast on the kitchen stool, ready to launch power at whatever is threatening us. It bubbles hot, ready to erupt, and then fizzles when I see Maddox standing there.
And I’m sorry, but no demigod has a right to look as good as he does. I’ve thought that from the very first time I gazed upon him when he helped liberate me from the Underworld. His long hair is dark blond, and while Finley and I have been told repetitively we have the most beautiful eyes in the world, Maddox gives us both a run for our money. His are a shimmering green, the color of Irish rolling hills. Tattoos cover his arms, which are thick and muscled, as is the rest of his body. He’s shaved his beard. The last time I saw him, it was full but well-trimmed.
I turn my back on him, indicating he’s not worth my attention, but I didn’t miss the dirt and blood covering his arms, chest, and face, or the fact he holds a battle-ax in his hand.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Finley yells at Maddox as she grabs a towel and a bottle of cleaner from under the sink. “You’re dripping entrails on my kitchen floor.”
She hustles his way as he mutters, “Sorry.”
I can’t help but glance over my shoulder. The ax is gone—presumably Maddox sent it somewhere that’s not here—and Finley is wiping up the floor.
Those green irises land on me, and something glimmers within. I get a trademark Maddox smirk as he moves past me to the cabinets.
“Don’t,” Finley snarls as she rushes toward him. “Your hands are nasty. Don’t touch anything.”
He gives her a grin that would disarm mortals. “Can I bother my sister-in-law for a glass of water? War is hard work.”
“Yes,” she says, her expression softening somewhat. “But don’t move. Just stand there and don’t touch anything.”
As Finley gets him a drink, I ask, “Where did Onyx have you this time?”
Onyx is my sister god, and she reigns over Conflict, which encompasses war and peace. The demigods were created to serve at the whim of the gods and given that Maddox looks like he stepped off the battlefield, I assume it’s at her behest.
He gives a careless wave of his hand. “Some dimension on the verge of political collapse. Apparently, one side has offered up major sacrifices to Onyx, so she sent me there to turn the tide.”
Some dimension, he says, as if this is normal talk, and I suppose it is for him. But this new world of magic and alternate realms is still a shock to my senses.
Finley hands him a glass filled with ice water. He downs it in several long swallows. I watch the way his throat rhythmically moves, making a tattoo of a snake that climbs up the side of his neck writhe from the motion.
“I’ll make you something to eat,” Finley says, moving to the refrigerator.
The minute the fridge is open and she’s rooting through it, Maddox turns his attention to me although he speaks to my sister. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“Okay,” Finley says as she grabs ingredients. “I put fresh towels in the downstairs guest bathroom this morning. When you’re done, put them right in the laundry room.”
“Sure thing,” he voices out loud to her, but then mouths silent words to me as he jerks his chin, his eyes turning dark green with desire. “Join me.”
My gaze snaps over to Finley as my body flushes with heat, but my sister isn’t paying attention. I look back to Maddox, who looks like he’d eat me whole if we were alone. I shake my head furiously, glaring at him. It’s a completely timid human move, the insecure woman in me not knowing how to handle someone so alpha and domineering. It’s been that way from nearly the beginning and hasn’t abated in the year we’ve been sleeping together.
If I were truly a god, I’d snap him into another dimension for his temerity, but instead, all I can do is bear the weight of his smirk.
His hand reaches out, a silent demand for me to come with him. I can imagine, with utter clarity, all the things he might do to me in a hot shower, and it’s not because I have a good imagination. I’ve had my fair share of hot showers with this demigod.
But that’s done in private and not under the potential view of my sister.
It’s my secret. No one knows what I have with Maddox.
He steps toward me, and I lurch up from my stool. “I’ve got to go,” I blurt out, tearing my eyes from him and looking over at Finley as she pops out from behind the refrigerator door.
She stares at me in surprise. “But why? You just got here.”
I throw a thumb over my shoulder, not at anything in particular. “I forgot I didn’t let Uorsin and Mattia out.”
Finley frowns but doesn’t question me. “Um… okay. Why don’t you do that and come back? I’ll have this big oaf gone by then.”
I don’t dare look at said big oaf. His smirk will have intensified with satisfaction for having discombobulated me, a god. I should turn him into a lizard or something, but I keep my cool.
“Maybe,” is all I offer to my sister and steel myself against the disappointment on her face. I don’t come by often enough to see her. “If not today, then tomorrow. I promise.”
At least tomorrow, Maddox will most likely be gone. He doesn’t have a home that I know of and roams the realms, staying wherever he chooses and for however long he wants. Much of the time, though, he stays here in a guest room.
Finley deposits the food items she pulled out onto the counter and moves around it toward me. I brace as she puts her arms around me and pulls me in for a hug.
“I love you,” she says.
I respond by squeezing her. It’s too hard for me to say those words out loud, but she knows how I feel. I gladly gave up my life for her once and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
She hasn’t even fully released me when I bend distance from her home to mine in Switzerland. I appear in the living room of what is an entirely too modest chalet for a deity, but I love it. My windows have an amazing view of the Bernese Alps capped with snow, and the Lauterbrunnen Valley spreads below me in various shades of patchwork green.
Uorsin and Mattia come barreling out of the kitchen where they’d most likely been sleeping on the cool tile floor. Their nails scrabble on the hardwood as they race to me, fluffy black tails tipped in white wagging furiously.
I crouch and accept their warm tongues on my face as I wrap my arms around their thick-furred bodies. I love them with all my might, and I wonder why it’s so easy to admit that about dogs but not people.
