The phantom, p.31
The Phantom, page 31
Springing away from the bed, away from Laban, she croaked, “I need time alone. Need to think.” Before he could respond, she flashed to a place known as No Man’s Land. A pocket garden realm created by the Astra, at her sister’s insistence.
Several other harpies loitered around, laughing, chatting, and sniffing flowers. Screw being polite. “Out,” she screeched. “Now.”
They obeyed as if their lives depended on it, and she plopped onto a wooden bench. What was she going to do?
31
THE DEATH
Roux sat at the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his head bowed. Screams reverberated through every inch of his being, a never-ending chorus. The prisoners had escaped. For the first time, he didn’t care. And he wasn’t bothered by them. They were no more than an irritating blip when compared to the travesty of his life.
He should have returned to the Commander and Taliyah to finish issuing his report of the happenings in Ation—and events soon to happen, now that Blythe was the realm’s queen. Instead, he’d fired his concubine and come to his bedroom hoping to ease the turmoil in his mind.
Could it be eased? Laban was alive and not trapped in Roux’s head, as assumed. His gravita now possessed two consorts.
A humorless laugh escaped him. The harphantom wouldn’t have two consorts for long, though, would she? No doubt she was already making plans to ditch the newest as quickly as possible. His hands curled into fists.
He couldn’t blame her for it. In a matter of days, he was supposed to cut out her heart with trinite, bringing harm to her yet again, ending her once and for all. Either that, or he welcomed a curse upon the Astra.
Pain stabbed his chest. Of every torture he’d endured throughout his life, this was unquestionably the worst. Were Laban and Blythe already in bed? Touching? Groaning each other’s names? Cuddling and whispering sweet everythings? Was she making him laugh? Lifting the never-ending gloom off his life with the simplest of smiles? Kissing?
“There you are.”
The relieved statement penetrated his awareness. Huffing and puffing, he lifted his gaze to find Ian beside him. The Astra’s incredible height and powerful build swallowed much of the space.
Roux almost offered the Commander’s salute. Once, Ian had led the Astra. Had he not refused to sacrifice his bride during the original blessing task, he would still be at the helm. Now he held steady at ninth. He remained the strongest among them, however, and also the charmer. Able to seduce any female and befriend any male. What few failed to realize until too late? Beneath his affable exterior lurked a ferocious interior.
“Here I am,” he said, not recognizing the animalistic quality to his own voice.
“Roc is eager for the rest of your report—whoa! What’s this look for?” The other male waved a finger in Roux’s face. “Did you hear Taliyah is quote unquote going full harpy on you and roasting you on a spit? Because she is.”
Movement drew his attention to the left. Silver materialized beside Ian, saying, “Did you find—Ah. There he is. Roc sent me to find out what’s taking so long. Shall I transport us all together?” Mass teleportation was his specialty. Along with the ability to torch his foes with only a glance and read hundreds of minds at once.
He frowned as he looked Roux over. “What’s wrong with you? Why is your face like that? Did Ian tell you Taliyah is determined to string you up by your intestines?”
“Enough about Taliyah. My face is fine.” For once, Roux wasn’t schooling his expression to hide his emotions, that was all.
With a growl, he sprang to his feet and paced before the pair. Why not tell them his problems? He wasn’t a sharer by nature, but he’d never needed advice more.
“I am Blythe’s consort, and she is my gravita,” he announced. “She chose me, we slept together, and I—”
“Whoa, back up. This is you we’re talking about. Do you mean you slept together or that you slept together?” Silver demanded. “There’s a big difference. Huge. If you’re confused, just check the measuring stick in your pants.”
Even now, her sweet honeysuckle and roses scent enveloped him, making that stick...uncomfortable. “I meant it in every sense of the word. I marked her with my stardust.” In essence, he wed her. For better or worse.
“Whoa,” Ian echoed, pulling up a chair and getting comfortable. “Just so we can be sure you truly understand the meaning of the word, describe to us in great detail about this so-called sleeping.”
Roux glared at the warrior. “We’re moving on. Besides the sleeping, I also tortured her.” Guilt cut through him. Followed by excitement. “Though she did find that part quite sexy.” Had his chest just puffed with pride? Another growl escaped him. “I must discover how to win my task without harming her. Perhaps I can offer her first consort’s heart? I am happy to kill him all over again. Unless she protests.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “By the way, Laban is alive, thanks to Erebus.”
His companions said nothing, so he kept going. “Blythe is mine. Mine! I do not share what is mine. I won’t share. If she tries to let me go, after promising to stay together, I will do murder. Except, I won’t. Like a fool, I desire her happiness more than anything. And little Isla deserves a father.” He scrubbed his chest next. “What should I do? Tell me. Someone. Anyone. Please!”
Silence greeted him. He glanced at the others. Both males watched him with slack jaws.
“Well?” he snapped. “Give me advice.”
“I must admit I’m having trouble getting past the first part of our conversation,” Ian finally piped up. “You’re telling me our Roo Coo lost his manginity?” He looked to Silver, his brow wrinkled. “That is what the harpies call it, yes? Manginity?”
Silver scratched his jaw. “I think they prefer the term popped his ejacucap.”
“Ah, yes. You might be right.” Ian returned his attention to Roux and grinned. “Congratulations on the loss of your ejacucap, my brother. This calls for a celebration.” He held out his hand and a bottle of his favorite whiskey materialized. He removed the cork with his teeth, saluted Roux, and downed the contents.
“Did nothing else I said register?” Roux grated.
Another Astra arrived. “Did you find him?” Halo scanned the others before locking his amber gaze on Roux. “Did Ian and Silver not tell you Roc is ready to hear the rest of your report? If you’re hiding from Taliyah—”
“Roux had sex with Blythe,” Ian blurted out. “We’re celebrating.” He offered the empty bottle to the other male. “Would you like a drink of the whiskey I no longer have?”
“We’re all hiding from Taliyah,” Halo said, stroking his chin. “This is smart.”
Roc himself suddenly appeared. Tall, bronze, and commanding. He scowled when he spotted Roux. “What’s wrong with your face? No, never mind. There’s no reason to hide in your room. Taliyah is now distracted with—”
“Roux had sex with Blythe.” Once again, Ian interrupted a speaker. Something only he dared to do. But then, as Roc’s biological brother, he had certain privileges the others did not. “Oh, and he mentioned stardusting her, torture, and the return of her first consort.”
Surely the Commander would have brilliant words of advice for Roux. The male had dealt with his fair share of disasters while courting Taliyah, his twenty-first bride but the first to survive.
“What should I do?” he croaked. “I cannot live without her.”
Roc patted his shoulder. “Kill the original consort, command Blythe to forgive you, and enjoy your newfound happiness. No mercy. Iron fist. That’s how I handle Taliyah.”
Ian, Silver, and Halo snickered. “Yes, brother,” Ian said with a grin. “Your iron fist is the stuff of legends.”
“All right. Where is he? Where’s Roux?” The feminine shriek echoed from the walls. “I’ve got things to say!”
Roc winced. “Guess she’s not distracted, after all. My best advice? Run, soldier.”
Roux didn’t run. He flashed outside the harpy’s bedroom door. If the first consort received a private conversation, the second should, too. He deserved a chance to fight for what he wanted.
No sounds seeped from behind the entrance. What were the two doing? Were they even inside?
The blood rushed from his head. He lifted his fist and knocked a little too hard. Cracks spread through the wood. Booted footsteps thumped. Then the door swung open, revealing the manticore, who carried his own length of chain.
This male desired what belonged to him, and only one of them could have her.
Attack! Roux breathed in. Out. And remained still as a statue.
Laban narrowed his eyes, aggression suddenly pulsing from him. “She’s not here. You should not have come.” Despite his words, he stepped back and waved to encompass the room. He didn’t do it gracefully, however. His movements were jerky, as if he kept changing his mind about what to do. “Enter. We will talk.”
Halfway expecting to be stabbed in the back—hoping it happened, giving him a reason to strike—Roux strode inside. No ambush. Too bad.
The other man shut the door as Roux turned on his heel. They faced off like two foes on a battlefield.
Roux chose to break the silence. “She told you what I am to her.” A statement, not a question.
“She did. You might be happy to know she was confused by her feelings for both of us.” Laban grinned coldly. “Then I explained how she’s been deceived. How Erebus tricked her into thinking you are her consort. It’s only a matter of time before she cuts you loose.”
He stiffened. Did the male speak truth?
No. No! Roux would not travel this road of thought. The very road he’d traveled the whole of his life, anytime he’d wondered about his purpose, believing he was destined to live and die alone. His time with Blythe had changed him, teaching him better. She was his purpose. His reason for being. He loved her, and love was never a mistake.
His eyes widened. He did; he loved her. She filled every corridor of his heart. Her grace. Her ferocity. Her playfulness. Her strength. Her bravery. Her everything. From the first moment he’d spied her, a part of him had known she meant something to him. That she could do what no one else had been able to: finally complete him.
To forgive him and shed her hatred as she’d done...she must love him, too. Nothing but love could conquer so pure and justified a hatred. Erebus could do many things, but he could not manipulate emotions.
Only one question remained. Would Blythe be able to cut Laban loose?
Roux fisted his hands, and the manticore braced, as if he expected a blow. A minute passed in tense silence; neither of them moved.
“I meant what I said, Astra.” Laban grated the words. “You shouldn’t have come. You are doing exactly what he wants and—” He slammed his lips together, silencing himself.
Why not finish the thought? Did it really matter? “I will leave.” The urge to strike was only growing stronger. Though Roux could have flashed away, he walked toward the door. Taking his time, hoping against hope Blythe would return before he exited.
Laban moved to block his path, fury and regret glinting in his eyes.
Why regret?
“It’s too late now, Astra. So. Let me tell you how the rest of our conversation is going to go. In a moment, I’ll say something that horrifies and disgusts you. You’ll attack me. In the process, you’ll ruin your chance with Blythe, and Erebus will win your war.”
A terrible suspicion flittered across Roux’s mind. He almost flashed then and there. If he was proven correct...
The manticore might be right about what happens next.
In the end, he stayed. Must know.
He offered a stiff nod. “Let’s hear what you have to say.”
“Another mistake on your part.” Radiating strain, Laban ran the length of chain between his fingers. “Ten years ago, Erebus came to me. He made me into a deathless phantom, something Blythe now knows. What she doesn’t know? What I lied to her about? Erebus bound me to his will. He told me to fall in love with her, so I did. Maybe I was always meant to love her. Maybe his command was responsible. Perhaps the fact that he replaced my heart with a clone of the god Mars is responsible. We might never know.”
Breath sawed in and out of Roux’s mouth. Each new sentence hit him with the force of a cannonball, proving his suspicion was, in fact, correct. “Tell me the rest.”
“I was commanded to keep her safe until the Astra Planeta invaded her world. And I did. With every ounce of my strength, I did. But Erebus issued other commands once he had me in his possession. Do you wish to know what I was ordered to do if you came to my room today?”
No. “Tell me,” he croaked.
“I am to kill Isla and ensure the blame points to you.”
Bile seared his throat. That...that Roux had not expected. “Harm your own child?” He gave his head a violent shake. “No. You will not kill your daughter.”
“You think I want to?” Laban shouted. He dropped the length of chain and reached up. With only a flick of his wrists, he removed the metal collar. It dropped, too. A loud clink pierced the airwaves. “This was merely for show. You realize that, yes? I was to wear it until our private confrontation, and I always do what I’m told. I have failed to stop myself from completing any of Erebus’s previous orders. Remain quiet about my transformation. Let you kill me the day of your invasion. Try to convince Blythe to pick me over you. I won’t be able to stop the next action, either. So, you have a choice, Astra. Let me murder my own child or kill me and lose Blythe, just as I told you. Exactly what Erebus hopes you’ll do.”
Roux reeled. He couldn’t...he didn’t...
“Kill me,” Laban snapped, raising his chin. “That is what I hope you’ll do. What Blythe and Isla need you to do. I know you love them because I know your heart better than my own.” He pounded a fist into his chest. “I know you’re a good male. So do this. Don’t make me beg for my own end. Let me go with at least a shred of dignity, knowing I finally did the right thing.”
As rage and protectiveness collided, Roux did it. He didn’t think any more. Didn’t give himself a chance to change his mind. He simply struck. In one fluid motion, he withdrew a trinite dagger and slammed the blade through the manticore’s heart. A true death for any phantom.
Blood trickled from the corners of Laban’s mouth as he offered a sad but relieved smile. “Thank you,” he rasped. “I’m sorry you’ve lost Blythe. If I can’t have her, you were a decent second choice. Tell her...” He went quiet then, his gaze sliding to the side. Soon, he stared at nothing and began to evaporate.
Roux both panicked and rejoiced. Isla was safe, but his relationship with Blythe was over. He’d just ended her first consort’s life. Again. He’d made this so easy for Erebus. Because no matter how fervently Roux explained the situation, the harpy would not believe him. She would accuse him of being jealous, and she would be right. On the surface, he looked guilty as sin.
How much more would Blythe hate him now?
* * *
Blythe perched on the bench in No Man’s Land, crouched and balancing on the back. Her mind had yet to settle. At least the scenery soothed. Golden sunshine bathed flowers of every color and winding stone pathways. A sweet fragrance saturated a cool breeze.
“I thought I might find you here.”
She glanced up to see her half sister striding toward her, tall, pale, lithe, and scowling. A General filled with confidence—and dressed for war.
“Are we to do battle?” Blythe asked. “The harpy General against the new Queen of Ation? Very well. I should probably warn you, though. I’m not really in the mood to go easy on you this time.”
Taliyah joined her with a snort, stretching across the bench. “No battle, even though I’m furious with you for trying to sabotage the Astra and putting yourself in harm’s way. But mostly for not bringing me a souvenir from Ation. Just came to chat. So, chat. Tell me you’re okay.”
“Not willing to lie to you.” She heaved a sigh. “Where’s Isla?” The little girl deserved to see her father the second he’d appeared, and Blythe was ashamed she hadn’t gone to her first.
“I’ve got her polishing the royal weapons, so she’ll be very preoccupied for a few weeks. By the way,” T-bone added, “you are the only harpy in history to score two consorts. I didn’t even think it was possible. No one did. Oh! You’ll be pleased to know I’ve spoken with Neeka about your situation.”
“She’s here?” Blythe could get real answers—real help—with her situation?
“Nope. She’s still with the hell king and having a great time secretly ruining his life, but we’ve managed to sneak in a few conversations here and there. Well, after he and Roc fought. It was glorious. Anyway. Neeks asked me to tell you this: Your heart is your heart, whether it’s this one or that one, so you can toss it and keep it.”
“What does that even mean?” Blythe demanded.
Her sister shrugged.
This sucked. She rubbed the aching spot between her breasts. “What am I going to do?”
“That’s easy. You do whatever you want. Either you pick one and ditch the other or keep both. Yeah, that’s probably the better plan. Keep both.”
Hardly. “Juggling one possessive alpha male is tough enough, thanks.”
“Okay, so which one do you prefer to juggle?”
That, she didn’t need to ponder. The answer, as shocking as it was, remained clear as crystal.
She chewed on her bottom lip and craned her head to peer at Taliyah through lowered lids. “The one who’s going to cause all kinds of problems.”
“Wow. Him? Truly?” her sister asked, wide-eyed. “Gotta say, I totally didn’t see that one coming.”
