The Darkest Surrender

At first glance, Lysander looked every inch the do-gooder. His hair gleamed as if the strands were gold silk. His skin was just as pale with only the faintest hint of rose. He wore a long white robe, his golden wings tucked in, the tops arching over his shoulders. He had no visible weapons. But then, he didn’t need them. He could create a sword of fire from nothing but air. Only after a second glance would the Harpies realize he was a warrior through and through, muscled and brawny, with a ruthless determination to protect what was his.

By then, it’d be too late.

Sabin, well, everyone would know what he was the moment they spotted him: a badass lacking any type of moral compass. He had brown hair and ocher eyes, his features a study of harsh planes and sharp angles. More weapons spilled from his six-foot-seven frame than an entire human army could carry, and his every step reminded her of a dying heartbeat. Thump. Pause, pause. Thump. But, uh, what was with the bullhorn in his hand?

There’d be no teasing Gwen about him, but her little sis would probably have to beat the ladies off him. Sabin was everything Harpies admired. Wicked, ungoverned by society’s rules and way beyond dangerous.

A danger readily apparent, even though he wore a T-shirt that said I’m Not a Gynecologist, but I’ll Take a Look.

Kaia wanted to buy one of those for Strider.

Finally they reached the doors to the auditorium of the elementary school. Yes, an elementary school. In “Brew City,” Wisconsin.

Only this morning had the texts gone out, informing everyone where to go for Game Orientation, and the location had puzzled her. A million years ago, orientation had been held in a wide-open field several miles from civilization. Sure, times had changed. But an elementary school? Really?

After expressing his own puzzlement, Lucien, keeper of Death, had flashed her and Gwen, dropping them off at the school’s front doors. Lysander had flown Bianka in, and Taliyah had simply materialized from what looked to be a thick, dark mist. Girl had developed a new ability, apparently, but when questioned, had refused to give up the deets. Like what the ever-loving hell could she do? Kaia had never, in all her centuries, seen anyone step from a misty doorway of their own creation.

Wasn’t fair, either. Taliyah already had a kick-ass ability. She could shape-shift. Not that she ever used the ability. But now she could do this, too, yet Kaia couldn’t do anything cool.

Pouter! Kaia stopped when she reached the auditorium doors. They were closed, a murmur of voices drifting through the tiny crack between the metal slats. A tremor slid down her spine, vibrating into her limbs.

Taliyah stopped, too. She sheathed her weapons and placed a firm hand on Kaia’s shoulder, her crystalline gaze pointed. “You know I’m with you, no matter what. Right?”

Her heart swelled with love as she shoved the hatchet and blade into their holsters. “Yeah, I know.” Her mother might have written her off, but her sisters never had. They supported her. Through anything, everything.

“Good. Then let’s do this.”

Taliyah pushed open the double doors, the hinges squeaking in protest. Without the barrier, the murmurs became full-blown conversations. Conversations that died as all eyes swung to the newest entrants.

Kaia searched the sea of faces she hadn’t seen in centuries, but didn’t spot her mother. Or any other Skyhawk for that matter, despite the fact that there were close to a hundred females watching her through narrowed eyes. She raised her chin. Several of the ladies reached for sword or dagger hilts, but none so much as stepped toward her.

All that hate-filled attention should have intimidated her, she supposed. However, Kaia found herself delighting in it. She was strong, stronger than ever, and she would prove herself. Finally.

Finally they would know she was worthy.

Tabitha could take her “almost improved” and shove it up her—

“Well, well. Look who decided to join us, everyone. Kaia the Disappointment. And company, of course.” The familiar voice echoed from the walls. Juliette the Eradicator. “What a surprise. We thought you’d opted not to enter, which would have been a very smart move on your part. But then, you’ve only got half a brain, isn’t that right?”

Annnd here were the twins-only-got-half jokes again.

Juliette went on, “I feel obligated to warn you that you will lose, and you will not have fun when you do. Or survive. Not that I’d know anything about that. I’ve taken home the gold in the last eight games. But I guess you wouldn’t know that, seeing how you weren’t invited to them.”

Bianka growled, Taliyah tensed and Kaia gritted her teeth as she faced her nemesis.

Juliette stood in the center of the stage. Tall, toned and stunning, she had shoulder-length black hair and eyes of the purest lavender. She wore a tank top and a short skirt that revealed the tattoos inked into her legs. Ancient godly symbols that bespoke revenge. Loosely translated, each one meant “the redheaded bitch must suffer.” Nice.

“Pretty soon, you’ll have to kiss your gold goodbye,” Kaia told her. “It’s mine this time around.”

Juliette grinned slowly, smugly. “Actually, no. No, I won’t. In case you didn’t know, I won’t be participating this year. I’m running things. In other words, I’m top dog. The elders met, decided, and I am now the be-all and endall.”

That so did not bode well for Kaia’s victory. As the woman who called the shots, Juliette would decide who broke the rules and who didn’t, and in the end, she would tabulate the final scores. No wonder Kaia had been invited to participate. Nothing was stacked in her favor.

“Well, you’re definitely a dog,” she managed to say through her apprehension. How many times over the centuries had she apologized to Juliette? Innumerable. How many fruit baskets had she sent? Hundreds. What more could she do? Nothing. And she was sick of trying when this was the result.

Rage flickered in those lavender eyes, but Juliette offered no retort. “Your men must sit with the others.” Motions jerky, she pointed to the back of the auditorium, where a large group of men perched side by side in the balcony, mere spectators.

“Actually, our men stay with us. And that is not something we will discuss.” Taliyah stalked forward, every inch the predator. “Now, you may continue with the meeting.” The command was not lost despite the polite delivery.

“I will,” Juliette huffed. “Have no worries on that front.” She launched into a speech about proper behavior before, during and after the games.

Ignoring her, Kaia “and company” followed her oldest sis. They stopped to the right of the stage, beside another clan. The Eagleshields. Juliette’s family. Her chin lifted another notch. Every member stepped back, away from her, as if she had a contagious disease they didn’t want to catch, and a blush heated her cheeks.

No, not every member widened the distance, she realized a second later. Neeka the Unwanted had stood alone on the group’s fringes and now stepped forward, closer to the Skyhawks. She was grinning.

“Taliyah.” Neeka inclined her head respectfully. She was deaf, having been stabbed in the ears during a raid. She’d been a child and hadn’t healed from her wounds, and her own mother had later tried to slay her for daring to live with such an infirmity.

The woman must have trained at the Tabitha Skyhawk school of Mothering.

The two females embraced, patting each other on the back once, twice. When they parted, Neeka looked at Kaia. Shockingly, her grin of pearly whites remained in place. She had hair on the softer side of jet and rich brown eyes. A few freckles dotted her nose, darker than her mocha skin, the only “flaws” in an otherwise too-perfect face.

“All grown up now,” Neeka said in a perfectly modulated, very soft tone.

“Yep.” She waited for the insults to start flying.

None were forthcoming. “I hope you’re as lethal as gossip claims.”

Wait. What? “Probably more so,” she said modestly. Well, modestly for her.

The grin widened. Clearly, Neeka had taught herself how to read lips. “Good. That’ll make the next few weeks bearable. So, tell me. About a year ago, someone mentioned you hung a human outside a sixty-story building. By his hair. That true?”

“Well, yeah.” And she wasn’t sorry. “Gwennie was missing, and he was the last one to see her.” She shrugged. “I wanted answers.”

“Rock on. What about—”

“Enough,” Juliette snapped. “You are wasting our time with your exaggerations when you should be listening to me.”

Exaggerations. Please. Rather than defend herself—and look as though she protested too much—Kaia repeated what had been said. Juliette was behind Neeka, so the poor girl had no idea everyone now watched them, quietly waiting for their cooperation.

The admonishment didn’t send Neeka back to her clan. She remained beside Taliyah. Odd. What was—

From the other side of the spacious room, another set of double doors opened. And then Kaia was staring across the distance—at her mother. Tabitha the Vicious. Juliette quieted as gasps of awe abounded.

A legend had just arrived.

Kaia’s stomach knotted, and she gulped. She’d known this moment would come, had thought she was prepared for it. But … Oh, gods. Her knees knocked together, and she had to press her weight into her heels to steady herself.

Damn it, her sudden case of nerves needed some outlet. Her skin prickled as though little bugs with white-hot legs were crawling all over her.