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Blood Flows Deep (Ryze #1) Page 2


  I have been faithful to what they asked of me. As God of Lust, I practically whored the hell out of myself in order to help the human species survive. I gave my body to any human who asked, male or female, for the sake of fulfilling the purpose the Aviraji gave me.

  All that, yet the moment I actually came to care about one of them, she was murdered.

  “Yes, more death. This is why we need you to get yourself together and fight—”

  “No!”

  Nylicia tilts her head, piercing me with a stare. “And if I told you there is a way you can find your true happiness? That you can have that and bring Dimithinia back?”

  The question intrigues me. Just as she knew it would.

  I storm up to her. Whatever she is, her form is not really here—no one has seen Nylicia in the flesh—but I still sneer down at her. I stare into her multicolored eyes and let her see every bit of the rage churning inside me, trying to intimidate her.

  “Explain.”

  She gives me a look that clearly tells me such tactics are not going to work.

  I grit my teeth together as she deflects my demand in that airy, frustrating way she possesses. “First off, what do you wish to be called now?”

  “Damn it, that does not matter to me—”

  “It does to me. Hmm, perhaps I shall name you then? Let me see . . .” She tilts her head once more, one finger tapping on her small chin. “Oh, I know. You strike me as a Dyletri!”

  “Which means I am destined to be named that. So be it. I could not care less about that.”

  “Are you not even going to ask me what the name means?”

  My teeth grind together, and my patience dwindles rapidly. I can find out the meaning of that name myself, if I so choose, but I know to indulge her. At least for a few seconds. After that, I might just snap and treat her to the sight of me tearing apart the chamber.

  “What does it mean?”

  “The handler of change. Constant change, to be exact.”

  I have no idea why that applies to me, and I do not really care. My brows tense, my patience shrinking down to one atom’s worth. “As I said, that does not mat—”

  “I have a talent for naming. I think I shall stick to it. Name a few more.” Nylicia’s expression is gleeful, although she has come with news of disaster.

  “Focus, female!” I snap. “Bringing Dimithinia back? How? It is already said that she will not be allowed to reincarnate. The Aviraji made sure of that.”

  Nylicia waves her hand, appearing utterly unconcerned. “Close to fourteen-thousand years from now, give or take a few hundred, her soul twin will be given life. This twin can, and should, be sacrificed to the Higher Fates—”

  “You cannot be serious! The Higher Fates? Why would I want to fuck with them?”

  Barely sentient, the energies which comprise the Fates are barbaric. Simplistic and vicious. As such, the laws that govern them, and the rest of the Universe by extension, can be just as brutal.

  One does not make sacrifices or pledges to the Fates lightly. Fail to follow through and they will do what they do best. Those energies will destroy everything, and in a way even the Aviraji will never be able to accomplish.

  “As I was saying. Sacrifice this girl to the Higher Fates, a soul for a soul, and when it is complete, Dimithinia will be returned.”

  “You said fourteen-thousand years? I am supposed to wait—”

  The sadness in Nylicia’s tone is unlike her. The resolve behind it, however, is quite familiar. “Yes, Dyletri. You are supposed to wait. And survive. Do you understand? If you do not, the Universe is lost. You are too important to perish. Do not ask me why, because I cannot tell you. Not yet.”

  Taking deep breaths, I try to imagine what can possibly be waiting for us on the morrow. Not that I cannot guess. When it comes to the Gods and war, things tend to get destructive.

  As evidenced by what those bastards have already done.

  “Is that why they killed so many?” I ask.

  “Yes. To weaken you all. This suffering is feeding them. They have been planning this for a long time, I assure you.” Nylicia stares at me, seeming to be gauging my reaction.

  “Where is Dimithinia’s soul?”

  “With Crius, inside Renentr. He will keep her safe. He has already volunteered to fight at the gates of the Underworld, if he must, to keep them out, should you fail up here. Much rests on you making it through this.”

  With that, Nylicia turns to leave.

  “Wait, dammit!” I start after her. “Where are you going? What will the girl’s name be?”

  Nylicia stops and looks over her shoulder. “Her name will be Ismini. And you will know when the time is right. Farewell, Dyletri.” Her form fades into nothingness, leaving me alone in the chamber once more.

  I think about my new name and the odd meaning attached to it. It is not something I would have chosen for myself, but I find that I like it. Hell, I would like anything, as long as it is not the name those bastards gave me.

  I want nothing to do with them or my duty.

  Another decision that is painfully simple. My powers have to go, too. I will not give the Aviraji control over me any longer, nor will I give myself to anyone for them ever again.

  No, never for them. From now on, it will be my choice.

  As is my choice to fight back.

  It is clear the Aviraji lied about their reasons for doing what they did. In reality, they did it all to weaken my faction so they could start a war.

  So be it. I will kill as many as I am able, and I will relish every moment. Even though my powers are already beginning to decline, I will do as Nylicia said and survive.

  I will survive and wait, repay the Aviraji for taking Dimithinia’s life, and then get her back. I should have protected her. I failed.

  I will not do so again.

  CHAPTER 1

  Nearly fourteen thousand years later—1998, CE.

  -Renentr, The Underworld.

  DYLETRI

  My rapid steps echo throughout the dark cavern as I make my way deep into a place I have been many times before. I’m always in a hurry when I come here, but this time there is an extra edge to each step.

  I just received the news I’ve been waiting an eternity for, and if Crius didn’t have his damned powers saturated all over the place, I would have just flashed myself into the main chamber the moment I entered the fucking cavern.

  “Always complaining about what I do in my own home.”

  I raise an eyebrow as I come to a stop before the Sivigh—a portal masquerading as a large set of doors that transforms into a giant face whenever anyone approaches.

  “Good evening, Salicyar.”

  “How many times am I going to tell you not to address me by that name? It’s not my name any more, hasn’t been for a long time.”

  “It is your real name.”

  “No, it is not. Not any longer.”

  “Just like you’re really a hundred-something thousand years old instead of two million and four. Why do you lie to the younger gods about your age, anyway? Afraid they’ll call you an old man?”

  I lick my lips, determined not to lose my temper with Crius. As usual. But damn it, he and his brothers have a knack for pissing a male off.

  “Like you’re so much fucking younger. Actually, aren’t you older than me? Have you ever stopped to think that the reason you’re so annoying is because you need to go out there and live? Perhaps experience life? I don’t know . . . a little thing called sex?”

  “I choose to remain a virgin, Salicyar. You will do well to remember that. Just like you’ve decided to forgo your calling for . . . how long has it been? Roughly thirteen thousand years? More?”

  Bastard. He knows very well why I have forsaken my calling. I was faithful for millennia upon millennia, and all it did was cost me the one woman I’ve ever truly cared for.

  I won’t risk a repeat of what happened with Dimithinia, nor give that bitch called Fate the satisfaction of screw
ing with me again.

  I don’t owe them anything. After the last fourteen millennia, the Fates owe me.

  “Are you going to let me in or not?”

  The giant gray face in front of me, which doesn’t resemble Crius at all, rolls its eyes and lets out a long suffering sigh.

  “As if I really have a choice. You’ll never fucking go away if I don’t let you in.”

  “Damn straight.” A moment later, I watch as the face melts into the doors. They swing open and slowly disappear, allowing me to walk deeper into the underworld that is Crius’s personal domain.

  Once inside the main hall, I feel Crius ease up on the energy barrier. The air grows light enough for my powers to spread out. I flash inside the Chamber of Souls—the Abideos.

  The walls glow bright with the souls contained inside them, each one held within a tiny glowing orb known as an Aristi. Billions upon billions of spirits exist in this place, despite the fact that they died a long time ago.

  Our kind has been long forgotten by humanity. The Aviraji saw to that, and as such, there hasn’t been any new additions to Crius’s collection in a long, long time.

  Now, his brother Lucifer gets most of the souls of the dead.

  The Abideos is unlike anything else in Renentr, its light a complete contradiction to the darkness of the underworld. It’s probably why Crius spends so much time here.

  Shit, I would, too, if I had to be stuck in this hell for an eternity.

  “This hell, as you call it, is my home. You were always so disrespectful.”

  I walk toward the raised dais on the other side of the chamber. “I’m not the one invading someone else’s thoughts and listening in on them.”

  Crius glances at me over his shoulder, his expression insolent. “We both know I don’t have a choice and why you, who does have a choice, won’t dare step into my mind.”

  “Well, no shit. The last time I was in there, it took me thousands of years before I was normal again.” My eyes fall to the one Aristi that’s kept outside of the walls.

  “We both know my trauma, as you so sensitively put it, isn’t the only reason you stay out of there.”

  He’s right. I can’t even bring myself to think about what I saw in Crius’s head the last time I dared trespass there. I’d barely held back the need to slam my fist through his face. It’s the real reason that one specific Aristi sits in a place of honor when none of the others do.

  A reason that has very little to do with my request to Crius. He moved that orb onto that pedestal before I even asked him to do it.

  I decide to ignore the tension between us. “How is she?”

  Crius’s voice is regretful as he turns to face me. “As she has always been since she arrived here. Enraged. And in agony.”

  Together we walk toward the pedestal in front of Crius’s throne. We stop on either side of it, and I stare at the god before me—a god that was once my friend.

  I still consider him as such, but the very thing standing between us has become just that: the thing that divides us.

  My brow furrows as I stare down into the Aristi. “It’s almost time.”

  The Aristi is a mess of light and dark, unlike the rest of the orbs in the chamber. The majority of the souls here glow mostly white, little spots of darkness the only remnants of whatever evil was done by them in their mortal lives.

  Not this one. She’s been trapped in her dark torment for all these centuries and there’s been nothing I could do to ease her. The only person who has managed to give her any type of comfort is the male before me.

  Damn him.

  My guilt is unbearable, as always. Most souls find some semblance of peace after death. But not Dimithinia. She hadn’t been allowed peace in her human life, and her pain stayed with her in death. Pain I’m partly responsible for. Pain I’m determined to do anything to rid her of.

  Crius won’t be the one to save her—I will.

  I look up just as Crius pierces me with a pupiless, silver stare. Even with that physical deformity, I know he has no problem seeing what’s before him. “And you are still determined to go through with this?”

  I glare at him, jaw twitching. What kind of stupid question is that? “The Prophexia is being born as we speak.”

  “She is an innocent. Are you really determined to sacrifice an innocent, who has never lived before, for a soul that is stained?” Crius’s tone is hard.

  My temper snaps. I feel enough guilt without the reminder. It isn’t as if I have a choice at this point.

  I made a decision born of grief and anger. The sacrifice has to be followed through now or else the Fates will do what they do best.

  My dumb ass promised those energies a life. A soul for a soul. It’s the most binding promise I’ve ever made.

  Succeed and Dimithinia’s return will be realized. Fail and watch millions of innocents get killed because of my idiocy.

  Fuck.

  I condemned a girl before she even came into existence, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. The unfairness of it all pushes me to lash out.

  “How dare you question me? The only reason Dimithinia did what she did was because of me. She killed because I failed to help her. I would think, given how you fucking feel about her, that you would understand!”

  Crius’s face is impassive, and his arms are crossed behind his back. “I never knew her as you did. All I know is the soul.”

  “And yet, if you could give your life in the place of hers, I know you fucking would.”

  A long silence on his end followed by a low mumbled comment, “So would you if you could.”

  “Don’t you think I tried? They don’t want me!”

  “Because that’s what they do. All they want is to cause as much suffering as possible.”

  And no one knows that better than Crius.

  I look away, feeling the heaviness of my burden. “If Dimithinia stays in there, she will always be tormented. She will always suffer.”

  Crius’s expression becomes harsh. “What do you plan to do to ease her suffering? What can you possibly do when you’re the very thing that pushed her over the edge? Do you not think it bothers me to see her like that? I can hear her. I am the one who bears her pain, and has for thousands of years.”

  I swallow back aggravation at that statement. It isn’t Crius’s fault he has the ability to hear her and I don’t. After all, he’s lord of this realm. Dimithinia’s voice isn’t the only voice he can hear. He hears the voices of all the dead and most of the living—and it’s definitely not something he asked for.

  And I know he would give anything to rid himself of that ability on most days.

  “The child is innocent, Dyletri,” Crius says, his voice softening. He understands what it’s like to be an innocent victim of Fate, so I get why he feels so much sympathy for the girl.

  I stare at the Aristi holding Dimithinia’s soul. “I know. But I have to go through with this, Crius. We both know I’m bound by my promise and what will happen if I fail to do this. Besides, I’m free now, and I can give Dimithinia everything I couldn’t give her before. I can give her my affections without her having to share me with anyone.”

  “The only reason you are free is because you, like so many others, have turned your back on your duties.”

  “And because the ones who gave me my damned purpose in the first place betrayed us all!”

  “Be that as it may, I still think it’s wrong. I can see your thoughts in ways even you cannot, and I can guarantee that you’re doing this for the wrong reasons. You don’t feel as you think you do. But for your sake, I hope that this works out for the best, my friend.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Present day, 2016, CE.

  -Earth. Astoria, Queens, NY. (USA)

  ISMINI

  “Heading home to enjoy the vibe I got you for your b-day? It’s been three days, woman. When am I getting that rambling, delighted review? I got you the best bullet in the whole store.”

  I glare at my best
friend Evesse as I slip on my hoodie. Evesse is unapologetic, of course, and she raises an eyebrow while waiting for an answer.

  “Leave her alone, Eve.” Soleria, my second closest friend and boss, steps out of the back of the restaurant smiling. “The girl is just awakening to the marvels of the ‘electric’ world.” She winks at me, her baby blues playful against the backdrop of her perfect skin and dark red hair.

  Evesse laughs, earning another scowl from me. It’s moments like these that I feel transparent. Straight-up gossamer. It’s like Eve can see every hidden fantasy inside me and the god that they revolve around, even though she doesn’t know anything about my secrets.

  I’ve seen Dyletri’s image since I was a child, almost going back as far as I can remember. Back then—when Nylicia, Watcher of Destinies, first came to me in my dreams—I developed an odd fascination with the being who long ago sealed my fate.

  Obviously, that fascination morphed into something different once I became a woman. ‘Cause I’m oh so smart.

  He’s the one my fantasies focus on whenever I use my vibe, much to my shame and embarrassment. It isn’t as if I can control it, though. The man is delicious in a way only a real god can be, and he haunts me despite my attempts to forget him.

  Having orgasms while thinking about the man who’s not only supposed to kill you, but who is doing it to resurrect the love of his life. Real nice, Iss. Real nice.

  “I swear, you’re happier about me having that vibe than I am.”

  “You’re such a liar.” Eve flips me off, then turns to head back toward the cash register.

  I return the gesture and throw a little kiss to the brunette’s back as she walks away. Soleria laughs and waves goodbye.

  After walking through the door, I pause right outside, knowing this will be the last time I see them. And I can’t even tell them that. Dyletri will be coming for me tonight and he’s going to freaking sacrifice me.

  I want to run.

  I want to fight.

  I want to kill him for damning me to this before I was even born.