“I’ve got your bag right here,” she said, clearly ready for us to get out the door.
“I know, but I need to grab the honeymoon present I got for you.”
“I can get it for you,” she said taking a step forward.
I held up a hand. “No, it’s okay, I’ll grab it. It’s in the dresser.”
Unwilling to part with her, I crossed back over give her another kiss. Then I left her to grab my gift. I practically jogged to the bedroom, quickly pulling open the dresser drawer. Pushing my socks aside, I looked for the present but then after a few moments of searching I remembered I'd moved it to the closet. Opening the door to our walk-in, I was greeted with a sight that stopped me cold.
It was if I’d opened a door directly into a nightmare.
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think properly.
A woman hung upside down from our closet ceiling. Bound and gagged, the white-bloodless face accompanied with the slash across her throat instantly coaxed wedding cake up my throat. Covering my mouth, I stepped back from the closet, slamming the door behind me. There had been a bowl under her to catch all the blood. Her eyes were empty, but I could feel the imprint of a painful, torturous death lingering around her body like flies on a carcass. I couldn’t make sense of the gruesome scene, I numbly walked back out to Emma.
“Are you okay? You look pale,” Emma asked, concern in her voice.
I was surprised the words came out clearly. “I checked the closet for your gift—” I couldn’t go on a for a moment. This had happened in our home, a place we had tried to make our safe haven. The illusion of our somewhat normal life had been ripped in two like a flimsy piece of paper.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, toying with the hilt of Othanos’s dagger that laid on the kitchen counter. She had brought it home with her from the wedding venue.
I struggled to find the right words. “There’s a woman in there. She’s dead. Hanging upside down. Drained of all her blood.” I pulled out my phone. “I need to call Phillip and Regina and get them over here.”
Emma nodded and crossed the space between us. I brought up each screen on my phone, careful not to push the wrong button.
“That won’t be necessary, darling,” she said.
A burning sliced through my stomach. When I looked down, I saw she had slid Othanos’s dagger into my gut.
My phone hit the carpet with a thud. I met her eyes, my throat thick, unable to voice the question I needed to ask.
Why?
She twisted the knife and I groaned as excruciating ripping pain shot to my brain overloading me so quickly I wasn’t sure whether I would throw up or fall over. Still I was riveted by Emma's honey-brown eyes even as my world closed in around the agony of my mutilated gut. In that briefest of moments, I saw a shadow unfold from behind her, spreading out like a mantle.
“I wish you hadn’t gone in there, baby,” she said, then clucked her tongue. “It was going to be a surprise.”
When I fell to my knees, she let go of the knife, leaving it in me as I collapsed on the ground. The last thing I remembered was her stepping over my body before my world went black.
17
Iobserved the necklace my mother had worn then passed down to me. From Propheros to Propheros. I never saw the meaning and magic bound to the tiny charm before, but I did now. The circle was divided by a horizontal bar and below that was split into five equal pieces, the Orders. On top of the bar sat a shining gem, the Propheros. From their division brought about the necessity of the one who could see the truth. My job was to unite all.
Reaching for the magic tether connected to the necklace, I pinched it in my fingers, shut my eyes, and followed the cord of light. Even before I opened them again, I felt the warm ocean breeze and the cry of tropical birds. I’d gone from night to day.
Fifteen men and women in white linen dresses or pajamas stood in a semi-circle around me, each holding a staff in a defensive formation. I’d arrived on the island where the Order of the Spiritus resided, and it looked as though they were expecting me. For
“It’s good to be home,” I said, deeply inhaling the scent of hibiscus. Nearby ocean waves crashed into the shore.
“This is not your home.” The High Priestess stepped out from behind her people. She looked much like the last time I saw the older woman, shaved head, dark brown skin, her heavily lidded eyes bulging, almost too big for her face. Her hands were pressed together tightly in prayer.
“What? You don’t want the Propheros now?” I asked, pouting. “You made such a fuss before when my mother ran off, and then when I did.”
“Stop pretending to be the girl,” the High Priestess said. “You do not belong here, dark one. Go back to the Stygian and leave our realm.”
I smiled, my lips shifted and stretched past what they used to as my teeth turned into sharp needles. The sentries stood their ground, but I caught two of them shifting, their eyes widening. Laughing, I couldn’t help but enjoy how the tables had been turned. To think I’d ever been scared of these fools.
Instead of flinching, the Priestess’s eyes softened with sadness.
