He’d wanted to toss the thing, but she looked too cute as she pretended to be a human who pretended to be an immortal version of herself. The signature? Taliyah’s. She’d said, “I’ll mail it to him as soon as the restraining order is lifted.”

The tasteful nudes she’d once suggested now hung on the walls of their bedroom, portraits that featured Taliyah herself. To stimulate his creativity, as she’d put it. When he glanced at them, he smiled. And hardened.

She’d placed a bottle of Sex Panther cologne on their mantel, as if it were a treasure. Upon his first and only sniff, he’d wondered if two panthers had actually peed in it.

He’d asked her, “Why do you have this?”

“First of all, we have this, and it’s for our street cred, obviously. Speaking of, how do you feel about getting my name tattooed on your only available blank canvas? I’m talking about your penis, in case it’s not clear. And my full name. I promise I’ll only ask you to whip it out and show the relatives on holidays, my birthday and every get-together from now until the end of eternity, and only then.”

Her words acted as a kick in the gut. She still planned their future.

A future they might not have.

Agony ripped through him. She was the guiding star he’d needed for so long. Icy with others, even as she melts for me.

How could he destroy her? How could he curse his men? The questions plagued him. They plagued his wife, as well; he knew they did.

His spies had learned nothing of value. Roc had called in every favor from every god who owed him, the number vast, but none had provided an answer to his dilemma.

Taliyah jolted upright with a loud gasp, startling him. “I know where they are.” Tremors shook her as she scrambled from the bed and tugged his discarded shirt over her head, covering her nakedness.

“Who?” he asked, throwing his legs over the side of the mattress and standing. He reached for his pants.

“The rest of the harphantoms.” With that, she vanished.

“Taliyah!” He loved having an independent wife; he didn’t hate it sometimes. Trying not to worry, he finished dressing and flashed from room to room, on the hunt. All the while, he shouted commands to his men.

—Sound the alarm and prepare the armies. Something has happened. What, I don’t know. Prepare for anything. Alert me the moment you spot Taliyah.—

Despite their feelings toward her, they issued speedy agreements. He knew many fretted about his obvious love for the woman and debated whether or not he would perform the sacrifice...and what they would do if he didn’t. If they would take matters into their own hands, as Roc once had.

Wonderful. Another internal battle. His panic and joy, always at war. He was raw inside, his aggression always high.

Taliyah was nowhere in the palace. He braced to flash into the Realm of the Forgotten when Halo’s voice stopped him.

—Found her. She’s in the marketplace, near the Tree of Skulls.—

Roc switched gears, landing where he’d last stood with her. His eyes darted. She knelt on the ground, her body heaving as she pounded her fist into dirt. Great, agonizing sounds rose from her.

“Taya!” He flashed to her side and slung an arm around her. “What is this? What happened? Tell me!”

Her sobs continued. With her next punch at the dirt, he captured her fist.

“Taya!”

Crying out, she threw herself at him, clinging and shaking and breaking the heart she had just welded together. “He buried them, the harpies of old. The ones he and Asclepius killed. The brothers turned my people into phantoms and forced them to go underground.” The more she spoke, the less she heaved and the more fury she broadcast, until malice sizzled in her every word. Heat boiled from her. “They forced the slain harpies to disembody and sink. Ordered them to slowly re-form and wait, silent, becoming one with the earth, tree roots growing through them.”

Had Roc re-created the horror of this in the duplicate realm?

“He hid them from you,” she continued, “so he could raise them up whenever he wished to toy with you.”

“Taya. I’m sorry.”

“He planned this!” she screeched. “They’ve been screaming silently for centuries. They’ve been screaming, but I refused to listen. Well, I’m listening now, and I. Will. Repay.” A bright, blinding beam of light exploded from her.

No, not just a light: incredible power. Her own, mixed with his. The heat of it melted her ring and singed Roc. He didn’t ice over as the mighty force threw him down the street. The light shot through him, too, across, above and below the land; he felt it penetrate the duplicate realm. Not once did his hold on Taliyah loosen.

Taliyah collapsed against him with a gasp. He cradled her to his chest and flashed to their bedroom.


Tags: Gena Showalter Rise of the Warlords Fantasy