Nemesis

By Patti Larsen

Where is it written the truth always means trouble...?

The Death of Free Will

He slept as though already dead, lost to me, though he lingered yet, face pale and sunken as I remembered from our very first meeting not so long ago. Adam had been an ordinary mortal then, his life threatened by illness devouring him from the inside out, but with a sunny and charming outlook that drew me to him and captured my heart.

Held it. And owned it still.

Eve knows Creation has its own agenda when it comes to realigning the Crosspath, but is she to help it on its way or try to stop the inevitability that is Armageddon? She struggles with her emotional turmoil and the disconnect Nemesis created between her and Chaos while trying to find all the sparks held by the Ogdoad. Not an easy task when those who hold the fragments of her persona know their deaths await her discovery. Meanwhile, the hub of Creation doesn’t seem willing to wait for her to complete her mission....

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patti Larsen
• Release date: Nov 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781988700809

Patti Larsen

About me, huh? Well, my official bio reads like this: Patti Larsen is a multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in her head. But that sounds so freaking formal, doesn’t it? I’m a storyteller who hears character's demands so loudly I have to write them down. I love the idea of sports even though sports hate me. I’ve dabbled in everything from improv theater to film making and writing TV shows, singing in an all girl band to running my own hair salon.But always, always, writing books calls me home.I’ve had my sights set on world literary domination for a while now. Which means getting my books out there, to you, my darling readers. It’s the coolest thing ever, this job of mine, being able to tell stories I love, only to see them all shiny and happy in your hands... thank you for reading.As for the rest of it, I’m short (permanent), slightly round (changeable) and blonde (for ever and ever). I love to talk one on one about the deepest topics and can’t seem to stop seeing the big picture. I happily live on Prince Edward Island, Canada, home to Anne of Green Gables and the most beautiful red beaches in the world, with my pug overlord and overlady, six lazy cats and Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn.

Book preview

Nemesis

Book Five: The Eternal Daughter

Patti Larsen

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2019 by Patti Larsen

Find out more about Patti Larsen at

http://www.pattilarsen.com/

***

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover art (copyright) by Valerie Bellamy. All rights reserved.

http://www.dog-earbookdesign.com

***

Chapter One

He slept as though already dead, lost to me, though he lingered yet, face pale and sunken as I remembered from our very first meeting not so long ago. Adam had been an ordinary mortal then, his life threatened by illness devouring him from the inside out, but with a sunny and charming outlook that drew me to him and captured my heart.

Held it. And owned it still.

I watched him sigh deeply in his slumber, my own chest tightening in sympathetic tension. He’d been hale and whole just three days ago, his body tall and strong, his healing ancient history. For someone who dealt with old things on a daily basis, I could make such a claim, though inaccurate. And yet, to me, it felt as though the young man who was Adam Worth, who had taken on the power of Chance and master of the mortal realm, who I’d shared not only my heart with but the seed of the now fallen Gaea, earth mother and one of the eight Ogdoad who carried with them the essence of my very own Chaos, had been a part of me for eternity.

Being sixteen while hosting the massive might of that most endless of creation’s powers played occasional havoc with my sense of self. Not that I was complaining as I sat at his bedside, holding his hand, stroking the soft, thin skin with my thumb while I sighed into the quiet, still air, the scent of cleaners and that distinctly hospital aroma filling my senses, faint sunlight washing through the windows carrying dust motes across his knees. Being here with him, touching him, feeling the life yet within him, helped a little.

Not a lot. Just enough to keep me from collapsing into a pathetic ball of nothing and allowing Chaos to take over and burn everything to the ground.

She exhaled her joy at such a thought and I knew, without me to temper her, she would do just that, the mighty and heartless soul of that which Life and Death tried to contain flexing herself when I opened the door to such thoughts.

Not her fault, how she was made, though I thought back as I sat, more often than not when I had these moments to steal with him, away from the inevitable pressures of what I had to do, aching stretches of time only he and I existed, I couldn’t help but retreat into memory and all that I had come to now.

Becoming Chaos had been bad enough, though I soothed her when that thought triggered a huff of unrest. I’d finally fully accepted her, embraced the full power of the Mist Realm and everything that went with it. How delicious, I admitted to myself and her, the pure, full connection between us, the wholeness that felt as though I’d finally come home.

Gone. Lost to me when Cadence woke my empathic field and left me to suffer in agony.

I wiped at a tear that escaped, exhaling through my mouth in a soft sigh, fingers clinging to him though I knew there was nothing he could do to help me, to save me. My Adam. I hadn’t had time to tell him I loved him. Wanted to, tried. Failed because my life, and his, was a continual mess of struggle and disaster piled on mess wound around mystery and complications. Not fair, and yet the way things were.

She’d taken him from me, too, that sister who was no sister of mine but a liar, a deceiver, planting herself in my path though she was as ancient as the realms themselves, born of Night and the first Death, likely around the same time as the emergence of Chaos.

Nemesis. I breathed her name into existence with us and regretted it. I didn’t want to think about her when I was with him, though perhaps such thoughts were inevitable after all. Since she was the reason he lay here, cut off from his own vast power, that of Chance, his memory continually erased the moment he fell asleep, rewound to, it seemed, the day we met so no matter how I tried, no matter how many times I told him of who we were and what we’d done together, who he was meant to be, the moment he closed his eyes to rest, he forgot.

The ultimate punishment. Worse even than his return to the cancer I’d once saved him from, his dying body wracked with pain now, though carefully controlled by the nurses who tended him with drugs and induced sleep that only made things worse.

I needed him, and not just because I loved him. I had a herculean task ahead of me and facing it felt impossible without him at my side. Finding the remainder of the Ogdoad seemed the only route I had to take, the only path that could possibly help me succeed in stopping the destruction of the Crosspath and all the Pantheons within. Chaos’s essence broken into eight pieces, her own soul the ninth, reminding me of the new vision I had of the hub of Creation, the nine doors and nine corridors that had been, I could only guess, the original intent of that place. Instead, with the capture and confinement of the Mist realm and its mistress, Life and Death sealed the fate of all who came after, into a speeding train that went nowhere.

At least, until my mother, the Egyptian goddess Isis, who bore the essence of Life for far too long, discovered the truth about Chaos and tricked my father into helping her conceive a child to open the way for the return of that power.

My power. Why Isis wanted me alive and well and causing mayhem in Creation I still didn’t know and would love to find out. I hated thinking who I was, just existing, forwarded her cause in any way or form. Not that I would have ended myself to put a stop to her plans, but…

Under the right circumstances, would I be willing to make that ultimate sacrifice?

Chaos grumbled her disapproval of this line of thinking and urged me with a rumble of thunder to move on.

She was right, of course. It was the pressure of my empathy dragging me down roads I could barely stand to examine. I knew it intellectually and just wished my mind was stronger than my heart when it came down to it.

I’d take a bit of detached emotionless right about now.

Samael. Way to lead myself from one painful reflection to another. I shook off my regret over my father’s return to Angel status, not wanting to think about the dear and loving man who’d carried the persona of the Grim Reaper for so long, who’d been one of the only people in my life who’d cared for me and didn’t judge me, even when I had no idea who I was, what my destiny called for, was simply a mess and a pathetic failure at being both an angel of Life and Death. If only I’d known, maybe I could have protected him better, if I’d had the knowledge I held once Chaos claimed me. Instead, he fell, to Isis, to his own weakness, saved in body, at least, but the power of Death going, by my hand, to my brother, Nero.

It wasn’t lost on me I’d twice made the non-traditional choice of selecting a replacement for a major arcana from the children of the previous host. My decision to hand Life over to my sister Daphne had ended in disaster and Isis reclaiming that persona for a short time. Long enough to trick the interim Grim Reaper, my brother Kael, into fathering another child on her. Just enough time to force the growth and development of my sister, Delilah, the girl emerging fully formed and the size of a toddler, Life finally choosing a replacement and my mother escaping to continue whatever it was she was up to that only added to my troubles.

I’m sorry, I whispered to Adam. You know all this already but you don’t anymore, it seems. I shouldn’t be thinking about them, should I, while I’m here with you? I should focus on you, on helping you heal. Making you better. But hard not to be reminded that, instead of a god or goddess from one of the Pantheons, choosing Nero to take Death’s mantel had, at least, felt like the right thing to do and was working out. As much as anything worked out for me lately. That wasn’t much, to be frank. So I’d take all my wins, perceived or otherwise, as they showed up and even though I didn’t have the wherewithal to celebrate them at the moment, at least I could count a few good things to level out the bad.

Balance. Back to Nemesis, then, brain? No thanks. She’d had enough of my time already.

I sat back, releasing my touch on Adam, knowing that time was running out and not just here. Yes, the nurses would arrive soon to refresh his bedding or renew his medication and I’d have to leave as they oh-so-politely requested it.

But it wasn’t that time I worried about so much, despite wishing I could stay with him and not go back to what awaited me. I’d prefer to linger, to hold his hand, to whisper to him how I felt about him though he couldn’t hear me and wouldn’t understand anyway because he forgot me every time. The greatest injury in this, the biggest insult and her legacy of fury that I would avenge at some point. The fact no matter how hard I tried, no matter how many times I came to see him, he never, ever remembered.

Leaving me to remind him though his confusion broke my heart, leaving me to step away when the nurses asked. I’d have to go, to face Armageddon and the Angels with their prophecies, the realignment of the Crosspath, the hunt for the Ogdoad… all of it, alone.

No, not completely alone. I had Tulip, my dear friend and Head Archivist of the Repository of Creation. Seshat, Life’s new host, and Nero, always. Mafdel, that most terrifying of Egyptian assassins who still trusted me though it had been her task to kill me and end the threat she and the rest of the Pantheons though Chaos presented.

Not to mention Destiny, Kismet. Karma I shook my head over, though perhaps that Goth representation of inevitability with her sharp judgments and weighty ideals was more suited to the likes of Nemesis. She’d defected, according to the adorable girl I knew as Destiny. Lending her power and her foresight to the enemy.

And Delilah. My sister. How could I reconcile her betrayal? Just a child, grown past that toddlerhood so rapidly, into a darling, happy girl I loved and adored, who chose Nemesis over me. I understood the need for balance. It made sense to me, absolutely. I was Chaos, and though destruction was my prevue, so, too, was the renewal of everything. With the bad came the good, the old’s departure left room for the new. Of any of the personas, mine was the most in tune with hers.

How she’d disabled my ability to control my empathic field I had no idea, but that struggle alone made my life harder. I’d learned to live with the physical sensations of hurt and assault that came from that field, had adapted to it, only feeling freedom from it when Chaos awoke and I took control of the Mist realm, of the power I was born to command.

Being thrown back into the arms of agony drove me from those I cared about and could help me. Maybe that was why, despite knowing I didn’t have the time to waste, I ended up here so very often, with the sleeping young man I loved, his quiet kindness the least of the hurts I now bore.

There had to be a way to save him. I’d done so once, kissed him, used the power of Chaos to remove his name from the Book of Death. But whatever Cadence did this time had made it impossible for a repeat performance to do the job.

I had to figure out how to break down the wall between him and his persona. If I could activate Chance again, I was sure Adam would recover. At least he’d have a chance, and that was, I figured, the point.

Revealed as the daughter of Nix, the night, and the first Death, Nemesis claimed she’d been watching Creation forever. That my emergence, Adam’s, had tipped the scales out of balance and removing us from the playing field was the only way. Not vindictive—I felt nothing of evil from her. Tasked, I could only imagine, with the most difficult of jobs. Ensuring Armageddon while I was now determined to stop her.

By taking Adam from me, however, she’d removed the option of free will, sent us back into the realm of the Fates, the Loom of Creation and its warp and weft forming the path ahead, Destiny and her sisters still free to act outside it thanks to previous acts of the nasty trio who built the Loom. But to what benefit? Destiny herself seemed lost, distracted by grief at the exodus of Karma, unable to focus, unwilling to talk to me. Though that was hardly new.

Adam’s eyes flickered open, blinked a few times. He licked his lips slowly, entire being lethargic from the medications and the cancer taking over his vital systems. I quickly rose, offering him a glass of water, bendy straw between his parched lips, those gray eyes watching me with curiosity. He took a sip, cleared his throat, smiled at me in a sweet and friendly way that lit his gaze before speaking.

Hi, he whispered. I’m Adam. What’s your name, beautiful?

I was going to weep, break down and sob on his chest and never, ever recover.

Eve, I said.

He cracked a soft laugh, coughing when it triggered a fit. I offered him more water while he settled back against his pillow, eyes still amused despite everything.

Adam and Eve, he said, like he said every single time. You have an apple for me?

It wasn’t funny anymore but I smiled anyway. Next time.

Eve. Mafdel’s mental voice was soft but insistent.

I’m on my way. I shut her out for the last moment I spent with Adam, not wanting anyone to come between us. But he was already closing his eyes again, drifting away from me, and I knew the inevitable was