Inspire by Cora Carmack
The watcher flashes his teeth at me in a mockery of a smile. “That’s right, pretty one. Keep a tight leash on your pet.”
“Enough,” I say. “If you’ve been watching me, you know I’ve been searching for other deities.”
He tilts his head to the side. “Is that what you were doing? I thought perhaps you’d gone mad after all.”
“I need to speak to my father. Or any of the originals. I’d like to give up my immortality.”
He laughs, a low chuckle that crawls over my skin.
“All for a pet?”
“Stop calling him that. He’s not a pet.”
His eyes scan over Wilder, who I can feel tense behind me. “Looks like one to me.”
“We’re fated,” I say. “Or is that outside your vision?”
He rolls his eyes at me. “I see the strings.”
I falter, swaying back into Wilder a little. His hands catch my hips, steadying me.
“You do?” It takes a long moment for me to recover from my shock. “Then you know why I need to be with him. We’re bound.”
The watcher sighs. “Pretty one, I see nothing but strings. Millions of them. I’ve seen the strings for the person you were going to stand in line next to as you got coffee, for who sits beside you in your frivolous human classes. I see the fate strings that are too small for you to feel. Every single one.”
“But this one isn’t small. I can feel it.”
“True.”
I wait for him to say something more, but he doesn’t.
“Can you help me? Just get me in contact. I’ll do the rest.”
“Why should I?”
“Because you won’t have to deal with me at all if I’m mortal.”
“You’ll never be mortal. You’ve far too many strings for that to be your fate.”
I gasp like he’s dealt me a physical blow.
“Maybe—maybe that will change. You can’t know for certain.”
At least, I didn’t think he could. He had to only see the present. If watchers saw the future, we never would have gotten this far. Melpomene either. There would be no needs for threats. They could just cut us out of existence before we ever caused problems.
Suddenly, he drops his head down, as if he’s praying. But I can see his open, eerie eyes peering at the floor. He makes a humming noise in his throat. Like he’s assessing something or agreeing. He stands frozen that way for so long that I consider telling Wilder to run again. Or to shut himself in my room. But in the end, I know it wouldn’t do any good. If a son of Argus wanted to find either of us, he could do it in a heartbeat.
I pull the towel tighter around my chest, uneasy about this whole situation, when the watcher’s head snaps up once again.
His pale blue eyes are nearly translucent, they’re so bright. But gradually they dim, and he focuses on me once more.
“Say I did know a god who might help you.”
My heart expands in my chest, so big that my lungs don’t seem to work around it.
My voice strangled, I say, “You do? Who?”
He waves my question away and continues, “Would you be willing to make a blind bargain?” His eyes skip from mine to Wilder’s. “Both of you?”
I freeze. “Why would he need to make a bargain? It’s me. My immortality. He has nothing to do with it.”
He smiles that fearsome smile again. “Strings, pretty one. He has everything to do with it.”
“What kind of bargain?” Wilder asks.
“I know a god who needs something done. But he can’t go through … normal channels, lest the other gods find out. Complete this task for him, both of you, and he’ll give you what you want. The two of you can be together.”
“No strings attached?” Wilder asks.
The watcher laughs. “Oh pet, there are always strings. It’s all life is.”
I clench my teeth against that stupid name and snap, “And what do you get out of this? Why the change of heart?”
“I owe this god a favor. If I get you to agree to take his bargain and look the other way as you complete it, we’re even.”
“And you can’t tell us anything more about the deal? What if it’s something terrible? Or something we can’t do?”
“Risk.” The watcher smiles and waves a hand in the direction of the bathroom. “You were willing to take one before.” His eyes turn to Wilder. “You were willing to do anything. Are you not willing to do this? Or were those just pretty words by a mortal who wanted a piece of—”
“I’ll do it,” Wilder growls, stepping toward the watcher.
I cut him off, planting my hands against his chest to hold him back.
“Don’t. You don’t know this world like I do. Bargains are a dangerous thing.”
“You were planning to make one.”
“Yes, but I have nothing to lose. You’re it for me.”
His hands clasp my cheeks, pulling me into him.
“You’re it for me, too.”
“But you have Gwen and your mother. Rook and Owen and … and Bridget.”
“I love my family. I would do anything for them. But Kalli, I consider you my family too. I meant what I said earlier. Whatever we have to do to make this work, we do it. Whatever it is, it can’t be worse than losing you. Nothing can.”
He kisses me, and his mouth is painfully sweet against mine. Day by day, kiss by kiss, he’s winning pieces of my soul. Parts of me weighed down by memories or fatigue or loneliness. He loosens the binds and makes me feel like everything is new, like I’m seeing the world for the first time because it is so incredibly different with him in it.
He pulls back, resting his forehead against mine.
“We’re doing this. And when it’s done, you’re marrying me.”
After a moment, I nod.
He continues, “Promise me. Promise that on the other side of this we’ll be together for good. I want to wake up next to you every day. I don’t want to share you with anyone. Except perhaps Gwen. I want to belong to you and you to me, so nothing can ever come between us. When you … when it’s done, you’ll be like me. You won’t live forever. And I’m sorry for that. But I promise I won’t waste one single day.”
I blink back tears, and my lips brush against his as I speak. “I don’t need immortality. Living a thousand lives means nothing to me when the only one I really want is this one. I promise you. We’ll be together for whatever part of forever we have.”
“Touching,” the watcher says behind me, his tone flat. “Are we all agreed then?”
Wilder looks at me, and together we nod.
“We’re agreed,” I say.
“I’m afraid I’ll need more than your words for this one. Hold out your hands.”
I take a deep breath and stick out my hand. Wilder follows. The watcher has us lace our fingers together, and then he wraps both of his large, weathered hands around ours.
“Do you agree to the bargain I’ve offered you, knowing full well that the terms of the deal that will be set forth by the god in question are non-negotiable?”
My eyes meet Wilder’s.
Together we say, “We do.”
“And are you willing to do whatever must be done, go wherever you’re needed, face any consequence to complete this bargain?”
“We are.”
“And will you do this all in exchange for this god’s help in securing your future together?”
Wilder’s lips quirk up in a smile. It feels a little like we’re getting married now.
“We will.”
“Then on behalf of Hades, god of the underworld, I declare this agreement binding.”
A string of gold light snaps into place around our hands, squeezing so tight it feels like it’s slicing into our skin. It glows brighter, and I grit my teeth when it burns hot against our hands. Tears prick my eyes, and when I look at Wilder, his face is screwed up in pain. I want to cry out for it to stop, to say I changed my mind, but before the words can surface on my tongue, the string disapp
I hold on tight to him and lift my other hand to my chest. I gasp for breath, and try to will my raging heart calm.
“It is done.”
The watcher’s voice clears some of the haze in my head, and his final words come back to me. Hades. We’d made a deal with Hades.
Why didn’t I force him to tell me who the god was before agreeing?
I lift my eyes to yell or curse or scream at him, but I only catch the blur as he moves. He ends up on the other side of Wilder. His frightening eyes meet mine from over his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, pretty one. It’s the only way.”
He raises his hands, moving so fast that I don’t have time to say anything, not even a moment to meet Wilder’s gaze. A sickening crack reverberates around the room as he grips Wilder’s head and snaps it to the side.
I stare, certain that I’m seeing things wrong. Then his body begins to slump to the floor, and I scream.
I reach out, grabbing onto his arms, but his body is too heavy, and he’s not moving. All his weight is pulling toward the floor, and my chest feels like it’s been cracked wide open. All my strength leaves me, and I can’t make my fingers squeeze tight enough or my arms pull hard enough. And he’s falling.
“Wilder! No, please!”
I scream and scream his name, but I can’t stop his body from hitting the floor. He sprawls, arms and legs thrown wide. I follow, collapsing against his bare chest. My hands shake as they move over him. I reach for his neck, hoping somehow he still has a pulse, that somehow he’s alive. But purple splotches have already inked across his skin, and when I run my fingers over his neck, it feels wrong. The skin is tight and twisted, and oh gods.
I bury my head against his chest, and I forget how to do anything but scream. Everything hurts. Beginning with my throat and moving through my lungs and my heart and even my skin. Every second that I don’t hear his heart beating beneath my ear, the silence crushes me. My ribs are collapsing, bones snapping, organs being ground to dust.
And I beg for it to move faster. To flatten me so completely that there’s not enough of me left to feel.
But it doesn’t.
Despite the way it feels, I am completely, horrifyingly whole.
And Wilder is … not.
He’s not. He’s not. Oh gods, he’s not.
The floor creaks nearby, and time seems to reel backward. I’m finally able to think beyond the sight of Wilder’s broken body before me and remember what came before it.
Watcher.
He stands in my kitchen. His arms crossed over his chest as if he hasn’t just ripped the heart out of my existence. I fly at him, needing to break his murdering fingers and claw out his vile eyes. He catches my wrist and for the second time in minutes, my body lets me down. I throw myself into him, pull and tug and swing, but he’s strong. And I’m so very weak.
So weak that I let him take the very best of this world. I think of Gwen and Wilder’s mom and Rook on the edge of his darkness. This will destroy them. And it’s all my fault. I brought him into this world. I was selfish enough to want him even though I am and have always been poison.
“Breathe, pretty one.”
I scream again, digging my fingernails into the backs of his hands. But he stands there, stoic and steadfast.
It occurs to me then. What I need to do.
I draw up the energy in me, but even it feels wilted and waning in the absence of my other half. But all I need is enough to be dangerous, enough to affect the other people in my apartment building. If I push hard enough, he’ll have to kill me.
He slaps me hard, and then his hand grips my face, squeezing my jaw so hard I feel like the bones might shatter.
“Enough of that. It had to be done. There’s only one way for a mortal to get to the underworld, and he just took it.”
The fight leaves me, rushing out of me, and leaving only a deep, hollow ache in its place. So, it was my fault. I can’t even blame it on the deity in front of me. I made the bargain. Me.
“Are you going to stand here and weep or follow him?”
“You’ll do it? You’ll kill me?”
He scowls. “Don’t be stupid, girl. Hades doesn’t want you snuffed out. Were you not paying attention? He wants both of you.”
My mind is too sluggish, too fogged by pain.
“Are you—are you saying this might not be permanent? Will Hades let me take him back?”
It’s not unheard of. Orpheus went after Eurydice. He would have brought her spirit back with him too if he hadn’t looked back as he’d promised he wouldn’t. Could that be part of the bargain?
“I’d imagine that rests upon the task he has for you. It’s not my deal. I’m just a facilitator. But time moves differently in the Netherworlds. If you don’t go and find him soon, he’ll have lived lifetimes down there by the time you reach him.”
I could attack him all over again for keeping that from me. For keeping all of this from me.
“How? How do I get there if not through death?”
From his pocket, he pulls out a coin. It’s ancient and gold, a skeletal man in a ferry carved on the face.
“Charon?”
He nods. “Show him this coin. It will get you across the river. Find your Wilder, then together find Hades. Do not lose the coin or you won’t be able to get back. This is not a mere token coin for the dead. It will keep you anchored here in this world.”
“And how do I get to Charon? How do I get there from here?”
I glance again at the lifeless body on the floor beside me, and my heart seizes up with pain. How long had I sat there crying? How long has it been since the watcher snapped his neck and took him from me?
I can’t think about him in the Underworld. He won’t know that I’m coming for him. He’ll be alone, wandering, thinking I’ve forgotten him completely. How much faster does time move there?
“You’ll need to put it in your mouth, as we do with the dead. Cut your tongue. Or bite down. When your blood offering touches the coin, it will take you to Charon.”
He holds out the gold piece and drops it in my palm.
Quickly, I drop to the floor, laying down beside Wilder. I grab his hand, lacing our fingers together, and lift the coin to my mouth.
But first, “The string. I can’t feel it. But I didn’t feel it snap either. Not like when my sister died. Can you still see it?”
“Fate is a fickle mistress, Kalliope. Do not think of her as a friend. She will tie you up or cut you loose to reach her ends.”
I nod and hold the coin up as if it’s a toast.
“To be made whole, all must first be lost.”
I place the cold coin in my mouth, and before I can think about the pain, I bite down hard on my tongue.
Blood floods my mouth, and my last thought before I’m ripped from this world is of Bridget’s prophecy.
Erebus draws near.
End of Book One
How much can love overcome?
Continue Kalli and Wilder’s story with Inflict, book two of the Muse series, coming in 2015!
Author’s Note:
Thank you SO much for reading Inspire. Hopefully you don’t hate me too much after that ending. I’ve had an incredible time writing this story, and I hope you love it as much as I do. If you’ve read my other books, you know this is something very different for me, but in reality, this is the kind of story I’ve been writing for most of my life. I just took a detour into contemporary romance. I’m hopeful that I’ll get to continue to write both types of stories, and that we’ll see more fantasy and other subgenres in the New Adult category as a whole. Because I think they’re pretty awesome. But we need your help as readers to expand! If you like fantasy and paranormal and scifi—read and recommend those books! As more people read and buy those books, more authors will begin to write them. So if you enjoyed this book (or any other for that matter), please cons
Acknowledgments
This book very nearly didn’t happen. On several occasions. Life tried to get in the way multiple times, but these characters and this story not only managed to rise above that, but they kept me sane when so much around me was falling apart.
To be honest, I’m still not really sure how I survived it. But I know I never would have been able to actually get this book in your hands without the help of several beautiful, incredible people. Lindsay—don’t ever leave me. You’re the best friend and assistant I could ask for. There aren’t words for how much better you make my life. Mom—you are undeniably the best mother in the world. I am a hot mess 99% of the time, but you’re always there to help me get back on track, whether it’s by reading my stuff, brainstorming titles, or making me a home cooked meal when I’ve been in the writing cave for daaaays. I owe you everything. Amy—my dedication said most of it, but thank you again for everything. You’re always the person I can go to with anything book related, and that makes you the very best kind of sister. Jen—you were there when I first started brainstorming this book, and you helped me mull over that ending, oh, a thousand times. Now, it’s your turn to finish that book you’ve been sitting on forever.
KP and Suzie—I should preface this thank you with an I’m sorry. Thanks for keeping me grounded and not panicking when all my plans for this book went awry. And thanks for not saying I told you so. Next time, I promise not to give us all heart attacks. Maybe. Probably. (Okay, I promise for real). Vania, thanks for working so hard on this cover and for dealing with my pickiness until we got it right. And to all the authors and readers out there who have been pushing for NA speculative fiction for ages—thank you! Keep up the good work! We’ll get there!