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“Precisely.” I weave my lightning into his system to grant Destruction the charge he needs.
No, Nita.
“Father be damned, Neo! This is madness! Think of yourwife! Mordere will—”
Mordere will do nothing. Elysia will be protected.
“Your confidence in me is quite touching, brother,” I murmur low in his ear, curving my claws to his jugular to tap the silver to awaken, but it doesn’t as if…Mordere is commanding his very blood to staydown. “But I can’t protect her on my own. I’m damn good, brother, but not even I can go against Mordere, the necromancer, and an undead army of ten thousand. Nor is my claim greater than his blood oath.”
No, but Death’s is.
“Oh, hell.”
Yes, Nita. That was the source for the necromancer’s scream. And the reason your foresight is dark. Elysia brought him back.
“Why would she do such a thing? She must have known I would free you, brother. Your claim is greater than his.”
Our claim isequal, my sister.
“Bullshiiiiit!” I snarl, pricking his neck with my claws, my eyes flicking to those veins that don’t erupt for anything. All I need do is remove those Fallen blades from his wrists.
Nita, the Goddess came to me.
“What?”
When I first sucked the poison from her heart, while she was still hovering between worlds, the Goddess came to me with a message. You cannot set me free, sister. This is my cross to bear. My penance.
“And Thanatos?”
She will be his bride.
“Father be damned, Neo!”
Death will protect Elysia. You must protect all those we love, Nita. There is much I need to tell you, my sister. Much I should have shared with you long ago. I cannot give you the answers you want now. But Death can. Go to Thanatos, Nita.
I sneer and rise until I’m standing over my brother. “If I go to Thanatos, I’m going to kick his sorry ass until it’s sorrier.”
Mordere is coming. Go, Nita.
Tempted to drop kick Neo’s ass, I instead make him the promise, “After this is over, brother, you can kiss your kneecaps goodbye.”
I love you, too, Nita.
I wraith-shadow through the dungeons, evading Mordere, and teleport, following the breadcrumbs of his soul trail…or I should say souls’ trail. Why should I have expected him to be anywhere else? My chest tightens, and I brace every vertebra in my spine, harden my horns, strengthen my wings.
“Hello, Nita,” Thanatos greets me as soon as I arrive, one hand twirling in the air. “I’ve been expecting you.”
He nods but returns to his work. I pause to huff frustration through my nostrils as I witness him transporting the souls of the Scourge through the Soul Plane and implanting them into their restored bodies. Like watching a symphony of spirit wisps with their soul strands fluttering behind them like transparent, silvery ribbons. I cage any desire within me that wishes to gush in admiration. At first, I detect a pattern, an undercurrent, but not even I can hope to memorize the rhythm of Death.
All the bodies in what is left of the Quarantined Zone remain unconscious until he summons them to wake. Not black magic, unlike the necromancer, who will raise an army of spectral vampires that are little more than ghouls. Thanatos does the work of reclamation. I want to hate him for it, but I can’t. Elysia never would.
“You know why I’m here?” I test him, perching on the edge of the warehouse building that faces the Spirit Woods.
“Yes…” His eyes don’t dare gravitate away from mine when he professes, “You’re here to ask me some questions.”
I retrieve a scythe from my long coat and use it to pick my fangs. “And if I don’t like your answers, I’m going to—”
“Kick my ass, I believe,” Thanatos chuckles, and I pause from my picking and taper my brows, cocking my head and narrowing my eyes to study those gold orbs.
