Aries On Fire: Zodiac Assassins, #9

By Artemis Crow

Thirteen Zodiac Assassins

Forged in the Darkness of the InBetween,
Ruled by the Shadow Side of their Stars,
The Only Hope for the Light of Humanity.

What Would You Sacrifice To Make Your Life Matter?

 

A Zodiac Out Of Control

Zodiac Aries wakes from a months-long coma, scarred and in pain. Angelfire burned him and now it lives inside him along with a demon soul and two fallen angel souls. His pain, his rage, his hopelessness drive him to lengths that cost him his place among the Zodiacs, and he is forced to leave them, the loathsome witch he blames for all his miseries in tow. All he wants is his own life, alone and in control, not caring if the worlds end, but the witch has other ideas and an offer.

A Woman Bound By An Oath

Hellborn witch, Elita has been held prisoner by the Zodiacs, forced to care for the comatose Aries—the man she blames for the death of her grandparents—when she needs to complete the mission to help the worlds survive its magical threats. When finally freed, she ends up still stuck with Aries and his determination to stick his head in the sand when billions of lives are at stake.

A Convergence Of Evil And Power

Chased by one evil and in a race to reach another, Aries and Elita must work together to survive the sorcerer and the witch goddess they're sandwiched between and the growing incendiary power inside Aries that threatens to burn the worlds down.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Artemis Crow
• Release date: Aug 16, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201675493

Book preview

1

Incessant screeching drove Aries out of the Void like a herded animal, ignoring his pain, ignoring his need for peace, ignoring his need for asylum from the real world’s unrelenting, unforgiving, unbearable, white-hot agony. A cool, hard grip on his forehead was the first true sensation that broke through the fire engulfing him from without and within, followed by a blinding light that pierced his closed eyes, making him wince away from the world. But he had no choice. It was either crawl back into the ear-shattering, migraine-inducing, screaming Void, or face the agony the real world had already battered him with in the few seconds since he’d emerged.

Either way, pain would be his constant companion. The hot ache never ceased, a torment that never allowed a full breath, that never allowed a moment’s rest. He longed to remain in the Void, the cool nothing where he’d floated, unaware of the passage of time, the quiet space blissful. At least until the voices had started screaming, Wake up.

He heard the slap a second before he felt the sting.

Wake up, a woman yelled.

Goddess, will I ever get away from bloody, screaming women? he said, stumbling over the words as if he were a child learning to speak. Did you slap me? Or has the Void suddenly gotten physical?

Damn right, I did. Now open your eyes and get up. I’m beyond sick of caring for you under threat of death, in chains no less.

He opened one eye and saw the witch. The one he’d pulled out of the InBetween when the Master and his coven had overrun the cavern. The one whose sister witches had killed the fallen angels—his friends—their sacrifice the price for giving everyone else time to get away. Oh, how he loathed her.

He carefully pulled in a deep breath but stopped short of full lungs when pain stabbed him. He sighed as he exhaled, the breath shuddering out slowly. If you’re my nursemaid, they must really hate me.

I don’t care. Get up so I can be free.

She sat back and raised her iron-shackled wrists. The skin under the bands was callused; he could see more scarring around the iron circling her neck. That hadn’t happened in a matter of days, or even weeks.

He rolled his head away from her. How long?

Have I been shackled like an animal?

How long have I been out? Days?

Please let it be days.

She laughed, but there was no mirth in it, only a hard edge.

His heart sank at the brittle sound. How much time did I lose?

She was as angry and hurting as he was, but he couldn’t find a single stirring of pity for the witch, not for one of the Master of the Dark’s coven.

Days? Try months.

Aries looked around the spacious but sparse room to buy himself time to digest that shocking nugget. Months?

What is this place?

She gave the room a cursory glance. Your friends built it, human and paranorm.

I don’t have that many human friends.

You do now, though god only knows why.

She rattled her chains again. Get off your lazy ass. I want out of this room, I want to feel the grass under my feet, I want to feel the sun on my skin. I want to soak in a bath for at least a week. She bared her teeth. I want away from you.

He grimaced as he rolled his head away from her, his gaze locking on the ceiling. Get the Zodiacs in here, now. I don’t want a treacherous, murderous witch anywhere near me. Not after what you did to my friends, to me.

She leaned forward and rose high enough to look down on him, her scowl savage. What I did? I climbed out of Hell before the rest of the coven to warn you. If I hadn’t been plagued with bad luck I would have been there early enough that all of you could have escaped. Instead, Hiram and Fessa beat me to it, and you Zodiacs killed them. If anyone is treacherous and murderous, it’s you lot.

She snorted. As for what was done to your angel friends, they did it to themselves in some pathetic effort to kill the Master, which if they’d had any sense they’d have known was impossible. As it happened, they all died for nothing; he left before your ‘friends’ flamed out.

Aries watched her animated face. He might want her out of his sight, but even he had to admit that her light brown skin, dark eyes, and wild, waist-length, black hair set off a face that artists would kill to paint or draw or sculpt. She’d been filthy when he’d seen her in the InBetween, and he hadn’t seen anything else until now, so her beauty came as a shock. The surge of rage that her beauty wrought in him was more of a shock.

Beauty was supposed to be pure; being a member of the Master’s coven made her as corrupt as it got.

Call the Zodiacs, before I start bellowing, he managed to say, the room blurring, his nausea rising.

He swallowed hard and clamped his mouth shut, concentrating on riding out his body’s contraction from the pain. Her mouth fell open for a second before snapping shut. She struggled against the weight of the chains and rose to her feet before crossing the room.

That was when he saw the chains bound not only her wrists and neck, but her ankles as well. The five chains were attached to her at one end and to a large, iron ring bolted to the floor at the other. Iron was the right choice; as a witch, her magic would be blocked by the metal. Still, it gave him pause to see her bound and to know that she’d been that way for the months she said he’d been in the Void. But only pause…

She picked up a cell phone, the chains clinking as her foot tapped. He’s awake if you can bestir yourself long enough to come see him.

She ended the call, set down the phone, and walked to the window, staring out at what he couldn’t see.

Boot steps were his first warning, the trembling, wooden floorboards were his second.

The barn-style door slid open and Taurus barreled through, his grin almost as broad as he was. Damn, it’s about time you woke up.

Aries winced. Not so loud, will you?

Libra and Cancer followed immediately after Taur, their expressions happy but reserved. They pushed Taur out of the way and sat on the side of the bed.

Aries groaned at the slight movement.

Libra grabbed Cancer’s arm and both men stood.

Sorry about that. How are you feeling? Cancer asked.

He’s in pain, Libra said.

Aries opened his mouth and panted like a woman in labor. It hurts to have you talk.

What? Why? Taur asked.

I can feel the air waves you move with every word, Aries said, his sentence ending with a hiss.

Even the pressure from the sheet under him hurt, not to mention the blankets on top. He’d thought the pain when he first woke from the Void was bad, but it was building.

What can we do to make you more comfortable? Cancer whispered.

Get her out of my room, Aries replied in a whisper, looking at the door.

Goddess knew, pointing was beyond him.

Taur nodded once then unbolted the chain ring from the floor. Come on, Elita, you’re overdue for a dunking anyway. He glanced at the other men, scrunched his face, then waved a hand under his nose. Stinky, he whispered loud enough for everyone in the house to hear.

I want a hot bath! she screeched as she dug her heels into the floor like a mule.

Damn it, woman, don’t you know how to do anything but banshee? Taur asked, jerking her hard through the door.

She grunted then started up a stream of curse words, enough to make a hardened man blush.

Taurus laughed, leaned down, and threw her over his shoulder, ignoring her kicking feet, pounding fists, and the gnashing teeth getting awfully close to his skin. He walked off with the enraged woman, her fury echoing down the hall.

Don’t let her back in here, Aries said, cringing, her screams a fresh hell to his senses, his body. Not if you have any care for me.

You got it, Libra said.

Aries tried to move the covers off his upper body to free his arms, but pain swept through him again, so intense he broke out in a sweat. His belly roiled. What happened? Has it been months?

The men looked at each other. Cancer nodded.

You’ve been out for five months, he whispered. When the elder and the other fallen angels used their angelfire to buy us time to escape, you were burned. Badly. Head to waist. The Zodiacs brought you here, our new home. Libra kept you alive during the trip. We’ve both been working on healing you…as much as we can.

I also think, Libra said, glancing at Cancer, "that the fallen angel souls you took into your body helped keep you alive. Hell, I think the souls are still keeping you alive. The angelfire has been strangely resistant to our powers of healing."

The souls? Aries asked.

The memories of that last day in the InBetween were spotty at best. He remembered more of the time before, but not all of that either.

The other Zodiacs told us about all of you taking in the souls that were in the vials, Libra said.

So you could carry them out of the InBetween and avoid the attention of the Powers, Cancer added.

And keep them from the Master, Libra finished.

Aries closed his eyes as if that could shield him against the ping-pong monologue. Stop. One at a time and short answers, or I’ll hurl.

Bottom line, you’re alive, thanks to the souls inside you…we think, Libra said.

A wave of heat coursed through Aries. He groaned.

Cancer, Libra said.

Cancer dropped to his knees and gently pulled back the blanket and top sheet. He laid his palms on Aries’s bare chest and belly then dropped his head.

What are you doing? Aries asked.

Cancer is better at alleviating pain than I am.

New? Aries asked, his answers reverting to monosyllabic.

Yes, Libra whispered.

The men stopped talking, remaining silent for long minutes while waiting for Cancer to ease Aries’s pain.

Coolness filled Aries, pushing back the fire that had filled his body and licked the surface of his skin until he was able to relax, the migraine and nausea quickly retreating. He took his first truly deep breath and sighed. Bending his arms, he started to push himself into a sit, but pain speared through him again, jarring him back to the reality that his body had been gravely injured.

Help me up.

Cancer and Libra each took an arm and helped Aries into a sit.

He stared at the wooden floorboards until his head stopped swimming. I want up. I need to move.

It’s been five months. You need to take it slow, Cancer said.

The rage that swirled deep inside Aries, his constant companion throughout life, bubbled over. He wanted to control it, he wanted it gone instead of it always being on the edges of every decision, every move, but he’d never found the key to letting it go or forcing it out. He raised his gaze and saw the walls closing in on him, the anger fueling the panicked need to escape this room, his body, his mind.

Get me the hell up and to the bathroom! he roared.

Take it easy, Libra said.

Aries nailed him with a glare meant to wither, but Libra didn’t cower.

Fine. Libra shrugged and pulled on his arm again, Cancer doing the same on the other side, until he was on his feet. You can’t do coma to sixty miles an hour, ten minutes after waking.

Aries leaned heavily on the men until his pride kicked in. He shoved away from them and started walking, lurching actually, across the room. Where is it?

What? Libra and Cancer asked at the same time.

The goddamn bathroom!

Aries reached the closest door and leaned on the jamb, panting. He glanced back and saw the two men grimacing, their expressions so similar you’d have thought they’d practiced it.

So?

It’s this way, Libra said, pointing across the room. But it’s not working right now; we’re waiting for the plumber. Elita is using the other bathroom.

Aries looked around the room. This place is how old? And the plumbing doesn’t work?

Cancer cleared his throat. It’s only six months old, but Elita…

Aries wanted to collapse to the floor then crawl back to his bed, but he couldn’t allow the weakness to show. Instead he swiped at the sweat running down his face and into his eyes. C’mon, angel souls. You kept me alive, give me some damn strength.

What did she do? Sabotage the pipes?

No, it’s her hair, Libra said. Like Taryn, she has a lot of it and it clogs the pipes.

Aries leaned his forehead against the door and closed his eyes, willing his legs to hold him upright despite their shaking, ignoring the hot burn of his feet. They felt twice their normal size. He glanced down to confirm they were actually as huge as they felt and saw the purpling skin that had colored them was climbing up his lower legs.

He desperately wanted to get back in bed, concede defeat to the weakness and suffering, but he fought through the need and declared his want. Then take me outside and hose me off before I pass out from my stink.

Libra and Cancer propped him up and led him into a great room then out the back of the house, his nausea returning with a vengeance.

We have something better, Cancer said.

They led him to an in-ground hot tub and struggled to ease him into the warm water. He shut his eyes, slowly removed his long-sleeve shirt, and dropped it on the edge, his sodden sweats following after a lengthy battle.

Aries sighed, the feel of the warm water heaven against his bare skin. He sat back and looked out at the land, needing an anchor, a vista to concentrate on to block the varying cries of his battered body. Acres of rolling hills, open grassland, and stands of old trees with orange and red and yellow leaves spread out before him, ending abruptly at the foothills of the mountains piercing the blue sky. A cool fall breeze washed over his face; the slight brush of air set up a tingle in his skin, the sensitivity almost painful.

Angelfire. A gift the archangel Uriel had given to the angels, and one Aries never thought he’d brush up against. He kept his gaze on the horizon, too afraid to look at his skin and the extent of his scars, the horror of his new reality presaged by the pitying looks the two Zodiacs were giving him.

What is this place? he asked to fill the yawning silence.

Nokomis brought me here after we rescued Lyon, Persephone, and the children, Cancer said. I bought land, and we started building with help from the indigenous people living here. The houses are for us and we’re building more for any paranorms who choose to come.

All of this in six months?

Yes. We got a lot done in the first couple of months, but we were able to build faster once the Zodiacs arrived, Cancer said.

It’s beautiful, Aries said, his compliment automatic since his mind was on facing the truth.

Soaking in a hot tub wasn’t going to help him, nor was stalling. He needed to see the scars, he needed to know what his stupid curiosity had wrought, he needed to look at what was left of him.

He pushed off the seat and carefully stood. I want to see.

Cancer and Libra looked at each other, their expressions pained.

Aries’s gut bottomed out. That bad, huh?

Libra rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. We did the best we could.

Cancer nodded, his face paler than usual. But the angelfire…

I know, I know, I’m lucky to be alive, Aries snapped. Let’s get this over with.

He held up his hands to the pair and they helped him out. They slowly made their way through the great room, returning to the master bedroom. Cancer released Aries and opened the dresser, pulling out fresh sweat pants and a tee shirt. He held them out.

I’ll get dressed after I see, Aries said, his voice cracking from the tension.

Cancer dropped the clothes on the bed and followed Aries and Libra into the bathroom. Libra flipped on the bright lights and guided Aries to the huge mirror hanging over the large, marble-topped vanity with double sinks.

We’re hoping with more time… Cancer started to say.

Aries raised a hand, stopping him.

He pulled out of Libra’s grip and reached out for the vanity, resting his hands on the edge and leaning his weight against the white and gray top, his head still down.

I will not be controlled by what I see, he said under his breath.

He lifted his head and blinked.

* * *

Elita sunk into the hot water, her groan uncontrollable. It had been four days since they let her bathe. The lack a greater punishment than even her chains. She’d never let a day go by without tending to her body, keeping it clean even in the tiny corner of Hell the coven had lived in while waiting for the Master to escape his cage.

Her heart sank even as she slipped under the water. And escaped he had.

She hadn’t expected him to do so in her lifetime. She’d secretly hoped never to meet him, though she couldn’t share that with anyone but her grandparents, Fessa and Hiram.

She slowly rose to the surface and exhaled hard, pressing the tips of her fingers to her eyes. I will not cry, not again.

Fessa would shake her head and Hiram would scowl, as they were wont to do whenever they disapproved of something. They most assuredly believed that there was a time for crying and a time for acting on your pain. Now that Aries had awakened, the opportunities to act, to escape her literal chains, would be numerous. She just needed to find her moment and run.

She grasped the washcloth draped over the edge of the tub, poured body wash on it, and scrubbed her skin, goosebumps rising at the nearly erotic pleasure of the rough cloth. She missed being touched, she missed being caressed, she missed the weight of a man pressing down on her, breast to chest, belly to belly, sex to sex.

Elita closed her eyes and writhed, the water flowing over her closer to the stroke of flesh on flesh than anything she’d known for months. Not that there’d been many men to lie with; Hell didn’t offer much so a girl couldn’t always be choosy when she had needs.

Needs that hadn’t been met in a long time. Lust and passion and…

Gah!

Elita threw the washcloth across the bathroom, the splat of the soapy cloth against the tile wall the only satisfaction she’d get today. She watched it slide to the floor before she sagged back and closed her eyes again.

Five months she’d been trapped, five months she’d had iron bands chafing her skin and blocking almost all of her magic, five months she’d spent tending to the man who’d killed, or as good as killed, her grandparents.

She snatched the shampoo bottle and poured a handful of the thick liquid into her palm then dropped the shampoo bottle over the side, not caring if it oozed onto the floor. She rubbed her hands together then ran them through her thick, black hair, impatient to get this laborious chore over with.

Usually, washing her hair was a pleasure, but she was too agitated by her thoughts, her needs, her failures, to enjoy it today.

Even the bath didn’t offer the same sensuous pleasure it normally did. It reminded her of all the sponge baths she’d had to give…him. Aries, the man the Zodiacs hovered over, for whom they’d wrung their hands and exchanged worried looks, the man she knew more intimately, at least physically, than any lover knew their mate.

Every scar: their shape, their rough texture, their ridges, and valleys. The rest of him, not scarred: his smooth skin, his solid muscle, his sex that, though quiescent, still managed to impress her.

She stopped washing her hair for a moment, remembering the few times his body had responded to her baths, the strokes of the washcloth that had woken his cock and filled her with desire. Not for him, never for him, not after what he’d done and continued to do even in a coma. No, she just missed the pleasure. It was hormones that had fired her passion, not the man.

Elita sank under the water and rinsed her hair. She sat up and opened the drain, letting the dirty water out then filling the tub again with fresh. So much fresh water, it seemed like magic had to play a role. No matter the reason or the source, she reveled in being this clean.

She lifted a hand and glared at the iron band around her wrist, the scars that would be a lifelong reminder of her imprisonment at a time she needed to be free. A time when the worlds stood poised on the brink of wonder or woe. A time that hinged on Elita getting to Circe.

Before she could sink into a morass of regret and frustration and anger, a deep thud vibrated the bathroom, making the surface of the water dance. Elita sat up and turned her head toward the door, waiting. Another thud. The bathwater rolled like a mini tsunami.

Heavy boots ran away from the bathroom and down the hall.

Taurus?

Silence met her query; her guard was gone.

Goosebumps rose again, but this time it wasn’t in reaction to the silky water. She was alone.

Rising out of the water, Elita stepped out of the tub and cocked her head to listen. Then she grinned. She’d been given a chance to escape, and she was going to take it. She reached for the doorknob and turned it. Blowing out a breath through pursed lips, she fought the excitement that threatened to make her do something too rash, too fast. She opened the door just a crack and peeked down the hall.

Taurus was indeed gone.

She had closed the door and was reaching for the bath sheet on the vanity when the house rocked, a boom throwing her to the floor.

2

Aries sucked in a breath at the sight in the mirror, the horror…

Hell, who was he kidding? No amount of time would change his new reality. The image was him, or what was left of him.

His hair was gone. In its place were thick scars of puckered skin and red ridges. His eyebrows were still there. He turned his head slightly one way then the other; his ears were also scarred but mostly intact, and not cauliflowered. His face had a few scars, but it hadn’t suffered like the top of his head. He studied his chest and arms, cringing at the roadmap of burns, a story of pain and loss and stolen time.

Aries stepped back and looked down. There was a definitive line between his past and his present, a line that stopped at his waist, leaving his cock and balls and legs intact. Not that any female with eyesight would have him now. Hell, even an unsighted woman would read his skin as if it were Braille and run.

He leaned forward, placed his fists on the vanity, and dropped his head. Heat built inside him, preceding the wave of rage that swamped him. Five months lost, a new reality that he never thought possible, the loss of…well, he didn’t know the extent of his losses, but he had no doubt they’d be great and painfilled.

Nothing would ever be the same.

Aries? Cancer asked, his voice quiet, filled with sympathy.

And that right there is how it starts.

Don’t, Aries said, his voice graveled. I won’t have your pity.

But— Libra said.

Aries slammed his fists down. No!

The vanity cracked. The bathroom shuddered. The entire house reacted to the surge of power. Aries raised his fists and gasped. He looked in the mirror and staggered back.

The pain that had been a persistent hum under his skin reared up and consumed him, pulling him down into depths as dark as the Void, pulsing in time with the flashes and swirls of red, gold, and blue light under his scarred skin.

What the hell is this? Aries asked, demanding an answer he didn’t really want.

Libra and Cancer looked at each other.

Tell! Me! Aries raged, turning to them, panting as the pain rocketed past anything he’d felt before.

It’s the angelfire, Libra said. It’s still inside you.

Aries looked at the mirror again. The fire bloomed, expanding through his chest and arms, filling his face, pushing through him until the light inside him filled the room, blinding him as surely as the tears in his eyes.

It’s the bright light that’s making me cry. That’s what he thought, but he knew the truth. His tears were for himself.

Jagged, white-hot pain exploded inside him. He fell forward, his weight supported by the damaged vanity.

Stop, Libra said.

Aries glanced up.

Flames licked his skin. Fire covered his body. The glass of the mirror sagged, the grout in the tiles closest to him cracking.

I’m an abomination, he said to his warped image.

He raised his fisted hands and punched the mirror, shattering it. Throwing his head back, he bellowed through the agony. Fire surged out of him, filling the bathroom as fast as a backdraft.

Aries fell into the fire and pain, blinded to everything around him, unaware of Libra and Cancer, oblivious to loyalty and friendship and brotherhood. He’d found a new, fiery Void here in the present, among the living. He wrapped it around himself like a cloak, blocking out the world as it exploded.

* * *

Elita ran downstairs, jumping over the unconscious Taurus sprawled on the floor. She reached the great room and slid to a halt. The back door, the one that was built into a wall of glass that looked out on the mountains, lured her. It was right there, her chance at freedom, her chance to complete her mission, her chance to avenge her grandparents’ death.

A bellow broke her concentration. She looked down the hallway that led to the master bedroom, the room she’d been chained to for five months. Libra and Cancer crawled down the length of it, clinging to each other. They collapsed on the floor, charred in some places, singed in others. They looked like hell.

She glanced back at the mountains then grunted. Well, fuck.

She ran to the two Zodiacs and turned them onto their sides so she could check them over. They were wounded, but not fatally so. She pushed off their bodies and ran forward, entering the bedroom. The space was a bloody mess. Furniture broken, curtains disheveled, the throw rug bunched up like a writer’s wad of paper but twice as rejected.

A blast of flames broke through her shock.

She ran to the bathroom door and stopped, too surprised to say anything for a moment.

Aries stood wrapped in a ball of fire in what once had been a beautiful room. It was now burning. Even through the flames, she could see more fire inside him, pulsing, roiling, boiling, feeding the blaze. She had to get his attention, get him to stop, get him to control himself before he burned the entire house down with the Zodiacs and her inside it.

Hey! she yelled to no effect.

He was cocooned in the fire; it would take far more than yelling to break him out.

She looked over her shoulder, checking the bedroom. Then she spotted it. She ran to the middle of the room and tugged on one of the heavy, iron chains until it was free of the iron ring bolted to the floor. Her palms started to itch immediately, a reaction to the metal. She bunched the chain into a ball, stepped back into the doorway, avoiding the flames, then bent her knees and heaved the chain at him.

The iron dropped to the floor short of him. It never touched him, and he never noticed.

Well, shit.

She ran back to the remaining chain, bunched it up and returned to the door. She’d never hit him with the chain from this distance but getting closer meant getting burned. She and every witch she knew had a particular aversion to being burned. Wonder why.

The house groaned. It wouldn’t be long before it was consumed. Since the rest of the Zodiacs hadn’t even shown up yet and she had three Zodiacs unconscious inside the house, she didn’t have a choice.

She closed her eyes for a moment, cursing Aries to Lucifer himself, took several steps inside the bathroom, then threw the rolled-up chain at Aries, aiming for his head. She recoiled from the heat and flames but watched to see if her effort worked.

The chain arced through the heated air then hit Aries in the chest, knocking him several steps to one side. With a great whoosh all the flames were sucked back inside Aries, extinguishing the fire, but not the broiling heat coming off him in waves. Elita staggered back then fell on her ass, sucking in the cooler, cleaner air closer to the floor.

Aries opened his eyes, staring into hers. Then his gaze dropped lower, lingering there a lot longer than necessary. She clenched her fists, the desire to pummel him into oblivion almost overwhelming. She’d sacrificed her chance at freedom for him, for the Zodiacs.

What the ever-living fuck were you doing! she bellowed, though her anger was more for her actions than his.

Taurus staggered into the bedroom then to the bathroom. He looked from Aries to Elita.

His eyes bugged out. Holy goddess! You’re both naked!

* * *

Allie ran into the master bedroom followed by her sister, Georgie, and the Zodiacs, each of them carrying a fire extinguisher. What happened?

Taurus raised his gaze from Elita’s naked form but pointed at her. She’s naked.

Granted, she’s lovely, but nudity didn’t start a fire, Allie said, scowling at Taur…again. She dropped her extinguisher, found a quilt, and draped it over the witch. And what happened to Libra and Cancer? We can’t have our two healers incapacitated at the same time.

She turned her gaze on Aries.

He sat up and looked around. I lost control.

For god’s sake, of what? Allie asked, throwing sweats and a tee shirt at him.

He held up an arm. Fire.

The group leaned closer, all staring at the faint light still swirling under his skin.

It’s angelfire, Libra said from across the room.

As one, the group turned to him.

Allie crossed her arms. Care to explain?

Libra sat on the bed and sighed. His clothes were burned and torn, his hair singed, his skin raw in some places and burned in others. The angelfire that burned him is still inside him. We don’t know why, or how.

Could have warned us, Taurus said, brushing drywall dust off his clothes.

We had no idea this would happen, Cancer said from the door.

Capricorn and Nokomis, Cancer’s inamorata, rushed to the Zodiac before he fell. They steered him to the bed and helped him lie down.

Libra lifted an arm until it was horizontal, palm down. Darkness rose through the wooden floor to gather at his palm until it was the size of a basketball. He rolled his wrist then turned to Cancer, gently touching the healing energy to the Zodiac’s chest.

It sank inside him; he gasped, his back arching. His eyes opened.

Nokomis gripped his hand, her face pale. Always having to be the hero, aren’t you?

You know me, he said between groans.

Nokomis humphed and turned her back on him, crossing her arms.

Allie looked at the crowd in the room. No one is dying today. Can we get back to the incendiary subject at hand?

Georgie helped Elita to her feet and brought her to Libra, easing the witch into a sit at his feet. Fix her next.

Libra repeated the call to the magic Nether, waiting for the power to gather. It’s the angelfire the fallen angels used against the Master’s coven.

The same fire that burned Aries, Taur added.

Yes, Libra said, his focus on passing the Nether to Elita to heal her wounds.

How is it still inside him? Allie asked.

How is it not killing him? Capricorn asked at the same time.

We don’t know for sure, Libra said, looking at Cancer. We think the two fallen angel souls inside him are keeping him alive. Our healing powers may have helped, but it’s the angels who saved him.

Georgie rubbed her chin, a common gesture when she was thinking. So that means he can never release the angel souls.

Aries rose from the tile floor and staggered to the door, gripping the jamb to keep from falling. What the hell do you mean? I have to live with them forever?

* * *

Elita sat with a silent Allie, the two women never having had much to say before and certainly not now, while the Zodiacs and Nokomis and Georgie cleaned the master bedroom and tried to salvage the bath. It had been hours and it would probably be hours more before they were done. It would have gone more quickly had they been able to enlist the help of the Native Americans, but the humans wanted no part of Elita. They avoided the house as if it were soiled, tainted by her presence, by the stain of her time in Hell.

Perhaps I am soiled.

You could let me go, Elita finally said. Aries is out of the coma; there’s no reason to keep me here.

Allie turned her head and nailed Elita with a glare. That isn’t up to me. The Zodiacs know more about what you’re capable of.

Okay, the human wasn’t a fool. Not that Elita’d had a reason to believe that; it had been more of a hope.

She grabbed her iron collar and jerked it. You are a strong, intelligent woman. Surely, you can decide something like that for yourself.

One side of Allie’s mouth canted up. I am strong. I am intelligent. Smart enough to know when someone is fucking with me. She leaned close to the witch. You fucking with me?

Elita leaned back, intimidated by the larger, more muscular woman. She swallowed hard. No.

Allie snorted. Say your piece, witch.

Elita scooted up until she was on the edge of the sofa. I have a mission, one that I would have completed by now. Instead, I’ve been trapped here, chained against my will, and my mission is for shite. The window of opportunity may be closed. I must go…now, to see if there’s even a sliver of a chance to salvage it.

Allie crossed one leg over the other, relaxing against the leather sofa back as if she’d had this sort of argument before. Explain this mission in detail, and I’ll see what I can do.

The flicker of hope in Elita died. There was no explaining the mission; Fessa and Hiram had drummed that into her. This was a secret, the greatest of secrets. Even a whisper of it could be carried…by the wind, by the birds, by the quiet of a beating heart. No one could know, not even to save her life.

Elita looked away, her frustration choking her until she nearly cried from the pain of it.

Allie stood. That’s what I thought.

Elita slapped the supple leather with her palms. This is not a secret I can share, not just because of the vow I made to my grandparents, but because the fate of the worlds rests on my success.

And you, what, want me to intercede on your behalf? Take up your cause with the Zodiacs? One that I have no clue about, that you will not share? Allie crossed to the fireplace. She added more wood to the fire and closed the screen. Then she turned to face Elita. As far as we know, your mission is to end the human world, to kill all of my kind. She cocked her head. As long as you choose to remain silent, so will I.

Georgie walked into the great room, wiping her forehead with her arm. We’ve done all we can and it’s night.

Allie walked over to her sister. You haven’t eaten, have you?

Not in several hours.

Dammit, woman, come on. I need to get some food in you. Allie wrapped an arm around her sister’s shoulders, supporting the smaller woman, then nailed Elita with a glare. You keep your ass here. I find out you tried to run, I’ll make you regret it.

She led Georgie out the back door and the pair disappeared into the night.

Elita waited a beat then jumped up and ran into the kitchen, rifling through the drawers until she found a small, plastic box containing various sizes of flathead screwdrivers.

She grabbed the box and opened it, her hands shaking so hard she dropped it. Damn it.

She bent over, rifling through the sizes until she found a pair that looked right. She slipped the end into the locking mechanism of the iron band around her neck. If she got this one off first, she could cast a spell that would unlock the bands around her wrists and ankles.

The tip slipped.

She tried to reinsert it but in her haste she kept missing. She trotted to the microwave and bent down to look in the reflection.

Something heavy hit her in the back of the head. Her forehead slammed into the front of the appliance and bounced back. Her neck twinged and her eyes crossed. She dropped the screwdriver and staggered across the kitchen, finally grabbing the counter so she didn’t fall to the floor.

She lifted her head and saw Nokomis staring daggers, or maybe it was screwdrivers, Elita couldn’t tell from the distance. No matter, the Kellas Cat Outbreeder had a helluva arm. Elita touched her forehead and winced when she felt the already rising knot.

Was that necessary?

You were trying to escape your iron bands, Nokomis answered, her chin raised. That makes you a threat to those I love, which makes you my enemy. She snapped her fingers and a massive tiger strolled into the great room. Nokomis crossed to the kitchen with the tiger and pointed at Elita. Enemy.

With one word, the tiger’s relaxed posture and kind eyes shifted. His body tensed and his eyes narrowed, boring into Elita as if memorizing her face. He sniffed the air as if imprinting her scent, labeling her an enemy.

I suggest you resign yourself to being our ‘guest’ for as long as we deem it necessary. If you try to run, I’ve painted a target on your back. Nokomis stepped in front of the cat. He will kill you with my blessing.

Elita heaved a sigh and held up her hands. Fine, I got it.

Nokomis jerked her head toward the great room and the tiger padded to the fireplace. He plopped down in front of it and started grooming, the entire moment forgotten.

Not that Elita would forget; this put a huge kink in her plan to run. The last thing she needed was a tiger sicced on her. She walked around the island, pulled out a chair, and plopped herself down just as the tiger had done, only she didn’t start grooming. No, she dropped her head into her hands instead. There was nothing for it; she was stuck here until fortune smiled on her or sense was knocked into the Zodiacs, which she didn’t see happening anytime soon. It hadn’t happened in five months, so…

3

The Master of the Dark sat on the gold throne his witches had dragged from the depths of somewhere, watching the women scurry around the Great Cavern, pleased by the progress they’d made in the five months since they’d arrived in the InBetween. The Zodiacs chased out. Check. His coven settled in. Check. His witches dispatched to explore and clear out the rest of the InBetween. Check and check.

He raised his arms and stretched before scratching the itch on his bald head. Yes, his goals were being met, but he grew more bored with each day. He needed time for his plans to come to fruition, he needed to secure this new home, he needed to give Hope more time to grow. She wouldn’t become the Seed until she was a little older and it seemed that her initial, phenomenal growth spurt had slowed as she neared maturation, no doubt controlled by that primordial goddess bitch Chaos, even from afar.

No matter, he’d told himself countless times. The Seed was his, and as long as that was the case, Chaos wouldn’t be able to use her Progenitors to fight in the war he planned on starting and winning. Hope was his ace in the hole. His other ace was Gemma, the Bane, the Gemini Zodiac created not born, leaving her without a soul. A profound side effect of the demon ritual that had created the Zodiac Assassins, and one he would use to pry open the inaccessible.

Fetch Gemma for me, he bellowed to no one in particular, the words echoing in the huge cavern.

Every witch within earshot froze until one stepped forward.

Who? she asked.

The others visibly flinched.

The Master took a deep breath to control his frustration. Frustration led to anger which led to him killing everything in sight. Not good after he’d already lost several witches when those damn fallen angels had self-immolated the moment he and his coven had arrived in the InBetween, though he was getting daily replacements.

He wanted to move, he wanted to curb his restlessness with action after eons spent locked up in the cage, he wanted to cut a swath of death and destruction to make the world pay for all the ills done to him. But he needed more of his coven to arrive before he could indulge himself in the worldwide bloodbath he planned.

Until then…

The Bane, he roared, figuratively blowing their hair back.

It wasn’t fair to take it out on the women, since he hadn’t introduced the Bane as Gemma, but damn, it felt good to see their terror. The witch who’d asked the question nodded once before taking off at a run for the hallway that led to his quarters.

The Master rubbed his hands together, eager for the coming sparring match, their arguments the one bright spot in his days. Rousing intellectual bouts that he always won, because after centuries of being trapped in the cage, he’d read every book that had been created, and written more than a few.

Gemma might not win, but she was tenacious and gave good debate.

He finally looked at the witches, saw they were still frozen. He waved his hand.

Go on, he said with a sigh.

Pure obedience could be such a hassle sometimes, always having to tell them exactly what to do. The women went back to their scurrying; the Master sagged in the throne and drummed his fingers on the gold armrest, longing for something interesting to happen.

As if the universe had heard him, a rumble erupted from one of the hallways.

The Master sat up, his pulse elevated for the first time that day.

A group of witches burst out of a hallway on his right, screaming, their hands waving in the air as if their hair was on fire. The Master twitched, the desire to set their hair on fire just to see what they would actually do nearly overwhelming his common sense. No more killing witches. He needed all he could get.

A roar washed over him and a huge troll appeared, just about to run the women down.

The Master stood, rubbing his hands together, a broad smile splitting his craggy face. At last, some ado!

The women split apart as soon as they cleared the hallway, making room for the trembling troll to run into the Great Cavern without pancaking anyone.

Huge and green, save for a swath of white on the troll’s belly starting between her breasts and ending between her hips, she was hideous, at least to his eyes. No doubt she was a prize in the troll world, but that world was about to lose a prize.

The Master raised his hands and closed his eyes, calling on his ever-present power. A tingle filled his chest, expanding, pushing until it rolled down to his hands, the tingling changing to a deep, throbbing ache that wrapped around his muscles and tendons, infused his bones.

He opened his eyes and aimed his glowing hands, palms forward, at the panting, quivering troll.

No! a woman screamed.

A blur of lanky, brown-haired female flashed past him and slid to a stop in front of the troll, her hands up in a defensive position.

Please, don’t hurt her, Gemma said, pleading for the creature’s life.

The Master remained still. Okay, this is interesting.

In the months since he’d taken Gemma captive, she’d never pleaded for anything, never shown a moment’s weakness to him. How delightful.

What will you give me for her life?

What do you want? she asked, practically panting.

You know what I want.

Gemma’s eyes watered; her pleading expression fell, defeat taking its place. I won’t lead you into Heaven, not even to save her life.

She lowered her hands. He dropped his hands, too, his irritation rising; the woman had proven to be obdurate in the extreme. Only manipulation had bent her will, which he employed often. He would wear her down eventually, until the stakes were so high she’d have no choice but to submit and give him what he wanted. It was just a matter of time before he found the key. For now, with all there was to do before using her to infiltrate Heaven, he could toy with her.

Call me Master and I won’t kill her.

Gemma’s eyes narrowed and she raised her chin. I call no man master.

Not even your lover, Tread?

She took a step forward and flashed her teeth in a scowl. He wouldn’t dare ask it of me.

The Master threw his head back and laughed. Damn, but she was amusing. Okay, then call me Cain. That is my real name, after all.

She shuddered, but he didn’t sense it was from fear. Her flushed face spoke of rage, not fright.

Fine, she said between clenched teeth. I’ll call you Cain. Now let her go.

He grinned, the pleasure of the win almost orgasmic. He snapped his fingers and the witches closest to the troll raised their hands. Green fire erupted from their palms, hitting the troll in the chest and belly.

The creature screamed and rose high on her toes as if being electrocuted, her body jerking wildly until she collapsed on the floor. Foam dribbled out of her mouth with the release of her final breath.

The Master watched the range of Gemma’s emotions: shock, horror, grief. She fell on the beast and let out a long wail that echoed in the large cavern.

He reclaimed his seat on his throne and crossed his legs. He hadn’t lied to the woman; he hadn’t killed the creature. But he couldn’t tolerate her thinking that she had any control, that she could manipulate him or bargain with him, not without the price being too steep for her to pay.

Hope rose from her small seat on the dais, the book she’d been reading dropping from her hand, forgotten.

The Master watched her walk down the steps and to the troll’s body, her early teen legs gangly, her gait awkward, her long, blonde-and-chestnut-striped hair swinging. She grew so fast that she never had time to get used to the length of her limbs or the shape of her body before they changed yet again. Hell, the witches were constantly letting out her clothes or making her new ones.

She kneeled next to Gemma and touched the sobbing woman’s back. Without a word, she took one of Gemma’s arms, pulled her off the troll, then held out a hand as if commanding the Gemini twin to stay.

The Master leaned forward, his hands gripping the arms of the gold throne, his breath caught in his throat. He’d been waiting for this moment, the chance to see the Seed in action, but did he want her to use her power on the lowly creature?

Hope pressed her palms to the troll’s head and neck; a blue light flowed out of her body, covering her.

Hope! the Master yelled. Stop!

She turned her head slowly, piercing him with a stare, her eyes molten gold one moment, then solid red the next.

He gasped, too alarmed to hide the terror that choked him. He sat back and fought to slow his breathing. The rebellion, the shifting eye color—both were new;