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Will be unable to render a kill afterward.
Worth it.
Determined, he withdrew a dagger from a sheath at his waist and thrust the blade into his rib cage. Warm blood poured down his chest. Pain devoured his strength with the same tenacity as Indifference, scorching every nerve ending in his body. Eventually his knees gave out. But even as he fell, he continued to hack through muscle and bone. Finally, success.
As an immortal, he would recover...soonish. Here and now, his mind would remain conscious for a minute, maybe two. Plenty of time to get what he needed. Sin had taught him well: the entire course of your life could change between one breath and another.
With a flick of his wrist, the still-beating heart rolled toward the Oracles. Twitters of acceptance rang out, followed by voices, one Oracle speaking after the other.
"You love our home, our people, despite your...limitations. But what has been spoken cannot be undone. What is to happen, will happen."
"One prophecy can work alongside another, and what was can be made right."
"To save us all, wed the girl who belongs to William of the Dark...she is the key..."
"Bring your wife to our lands and lead the dark one here after. Only the male who will live or die for the girl has the power to dethrone Sin the Demented."
When had Sin earned the moniker "the Demented"?
"Only then shall you have all you desire."
"But do not forget Ananke's shears, for they are necessary..."
Together the Oracles whispered, "There is no other way."
In the ensuing quiet, Puck's thoughts whirled. William of the Dark. He'd never heard of him, or the girl the male would "live or die for." The two needed to be brought to Amaranthia, one after the other. Very well.
As a heavy gloom toyed with the edges of his mind, he ordered and set his tasks.
Find William of the Dark. Wed the girl he loves. War with Sin.
One prophecy would not supersede the other. Instead, the two would work in tandem. Meaning, William would not kill Sin, would only dethrone him. The rest would be up to Puck.
Nothing would stop him from completing each task. William. Wed. War. One day, Puck would wear the Connacht crown, save his people and unite the clans.
Finally the gloom stopped toying and started devouring, swallowing him whole. He knew nothing more.
3
Gillian Shaw, BP (Before Puck)
T minus 4 days and 32 seconds until B-day
I can do this. I can do it.
Sexy lingerie? Check.
Intoxicating perfume? Check.
Teeth brushed once, twice for good measure? Check, check.
Gillian Shaw--also known as Gillian Bradshaw, Gilly Bradshaw and Jill Brads, depending on which ID she used--marched from one side of the bedroom to the other, feeling as if she were a cracked porcelain doll about to shatter. I'm almost eighteen. I can do this.
Her stomach said, Think again, little girl.
Not wanting to desecrate the Persian rug, she rushed to the bathroom. Just in time. The contents of her stomach spewed into the toilet.
Her boyfriend--who was she kidding? He wasn't her boyfriend. Yet. He was an immortal warrior of incomparable beauty and power, a bazillion years old, and one of nine kings of hell. Or a former king. Immortal titles could change as kingdoms were won or lost, and she had lost track. What she knew beyond a doubt: William of the Dark was a merciless killer. Both enemies and friends feared him, and yet, when he smiled, panties dropped.
The guy slept around. A lot. He had no sticking power...except with Gillian, whom he refused to bed.
Time to teach him otherwise.
Though he'd never made a move on her, he'd always enjoyed being with her. Clearly! He joked and laughed with her in a way he never did with anyone else. This morning, he'd sought her opinion about which T-shirt to wear. The one that read "I Can Make Beer Disappear" or "World's Okayest Friend."
Did he understand what a rarity he was? What a wealth of contradictions? He was uncompromisingly brave while inspiring terror, fierce but honorable, with a skewed moral compass. Willing to commit unspeakable acts of evil, and yet, there were (small) lines he refused to cross.
To Gillian, he was a last hope.
Must win him over. Had she done ample internet research? Picked the right outfit? Brushed her teeth enough? Ugh. Maybe she should go home, before he returned and found her half-dressed in his bedroom, and forever altered the course of their relationship.
Too late. Already altered.
A while back, he'd been bed bound after a particularly gruesome battle. In his weakened condition, he hadn't trusted anyone but Gillian to be near him. As she'd tended his wounds, he'd admitted he sensed her feelings for him, and told her they could only ever be friends, that she was too young to be with a man and understand what it meant.
Thanks to her stepfather, she'd known what it meant for years. He'd done sick, twisted things she couldn't contemplate without praying for death. He'd also taught his sons to do sick, twisted things.
But day after day, she kept fighting to live, anyway. She hated her stephorrors too much to let them win.
Feeling rejected by William, she'd tried to avoid him. He'd sought her out, anyway, acting as if nothing had happened. Actually, no. That wasn't one hundred percent accurate. She'd shared the worst of her past, and he'd begun to treat her like spun glass.
Now, there were two Gillians--two wolves at war. One Gillian was afraid of her feelings for William, and the other only wanted to feel more. One looked at him and thought, He's the scariest man on Earth. The other looked at him and thought, He's the sexiest man on Earth.
Talk about mental whiplash! Which mattered more--scary or sexy?
Um, how about neither? He was nice, the only quality that mattered.
Lately, though, he'd been spending less and less time with her. What if he grew tired of her? What if he ditched her?
There was only one way to keep a man interested in a woman...
Her stomach twisted. You're proving his point. You aren't ready. This isn't right.
No. No! Listen to fear? Not anymore. Tonight she took control of her destiny, and proved she could meet all of Liam's needs.
Gillian splashed her face with water and peered at her reflection in the mirror. Dark, haunted eyes stared at her, and she scowled. No one, in this world or any other, had ever hated their eyes more than she hated hers.
You want me to stop touching you? Then tell those beautiful eyes to stop begging for more.
A cold sweat beaded over her forehead, and her stomach threatened to rebel a second time.
Okay. So. Guaranteed, she was going to freak out tonight.
"You are worth the hassle," she muttered. "And so is Liam."
With his kindness and gentleness, he'd earned her trust, loyalty and love. And by some miracle of miracles, she'd earned his, too. He must trust and love her, despite his rejection of her. Why else would he throw her a private pre-birthday party yesterday and surprise her with a new car? A Mercedes-Benz S600 Guard, to be exact.
According to her envious classmates, it was the safest vehicle on the market because it could resist sniper fire, rocket-propelled grenades and high-velocity projectiles. Oh, and it had cost six hundred thousand dollars, an absolutely obscene amount of money. But William was a savvy businessman on top of everything else and had oodles of cash to spare.
But the thing worth more to her than the Mercedes? The handmade coupon booklet he'd given her. Inside were tickets for all-night video game challenges, dinners anywhere in the world and a shopping extravaganza while he carried her purse.
There were also twenty coupons for "the head or heart of an enemy."
But even better than all of that? She'd picked up idle chatter among the group of friends they shared. William considered Gillian his destined mate!
The problem was, he continued seeing other women.
Have to win him now, before he falls in love with someone else.
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A little wobbly on her feet, Gillian used the spare toothbrush to scrub her mouth a third and fourth time. He loves me. He'll always love me. Surely.
Not too long ago, she'd gone out with some kids from her school. She'd been uncomfortable but determined to have fun. But, when everyone paired up, leaving her alone with one of the boys, she'd panicked. What if he made a move on her? Just when she thought she might snap, William had shown up.
"You do not touch her. Ever," he'd said, his voice pure menace. "You do, you die."
Unlike her stepfather, he protected her. He was a bright light in a life encompassed by darkness.
With him, she almost felt normal.
Gillian needed to feel normal. So many girls her age were excited to discover the "pleasures" of sex. But she already despised the act. The smells, sounds and sensations. The pain, humiliation and helplessness.
What if William could introduce her to those pleasures?
Her phone vibrated. A text from William? Hopeful but also teeming with dread, she checked the screen. Keeley.
