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Hotter Than Hell(36)

By:Kim Harrison




A cry from a sea bird mingled with the roar of the ocean. The scent of salt was heavy enough that he even tasted it on his tongue. To either side of him grew thick green foliage that hugged the small cove.



For the first time in all his centuries of being, he felt alive and free. Free of the constraints of serving the gods and goddesses, and alive with possibilities.



In one moment, he felt joy.



In the next, terror.



Light and joy vanished.



Aedan shouted as he was enveloped in flame, the pain so deep and constant it was as if the flesh was charred from his bones. Bursts of fire lit the darkness while bubbling pools of lava lapped at his feet like the ocean waves had when he had stood on the shore.



With every splash of lava against his ankles and calves, Aedan wanted to cry out. But he ground his teeth and held it in as he searched for some way out of this version of the human hell—



The Realm of the Dead.



Sweat rolled down his face and arms but quickly dried in the searing heat. Shrieks, cries, and sobs of other beings in the realm echoed from sharp and sheer volcanic rock. He could make out figures now. Men, women. No doubt some he had sent here himself.



Dear gods and goddesses.



A wave of heat slammed into him, forcing him to drop to his knees in a lava pool. Aedan gave another shout.



Everything vanished.



He was in the Chamber of Futures again, but on his knees.



Aedan’s breathing came hard and fast and in his mind’s eye he could still see the flames and the tortured souls. His tunic was now damp with his sweat and clung to his body.



When the beating of his heart slowed and his breathing calmed, he stood and straightened to his full height.



His choices had been laid out before him.



Annwn, or the Realm of the Dead.



His choice.



Robbing Ericka Roberts of her soul was the key.



Aedan clenched his fists at his sides and strode from the chamber, nearly running into Jett and Kyne when he entered the Hall of the Lost.



Without speaking to either of them, he turned and headed away from the pair who remained silent.



He needed…he needed his quarters. The stone, the water. He needed to think.



When he reached his quarters, he slammed the door, raked his fingers through his hair again, and looked up at the starry sky. “Gods and goddesses, what is happening?”



A sigh and a breeze whirled through his chamber and he turned to face the direction it came from. Like the reflection of water on a pond, his mother, Belisma, appeared before him along with her scent of fresh water and moss. The goddess of water was as beautiful as a crystal waterfall tumbling into the River of Life.



Surprise sent a jolt down his spine that Belisma had answered his cry. He knelt before the blond, golden-eyed goddess, and kept his head lowered.



“Rise, Aedan of the Incubae.” Her voice even sounded like water trickling over rocks.



When his eyes met hers, the beautiful goddess did not smile. “This has never been a battle for the human’s soul, my son. It is a battle for yours.”



Aedan’s mouth wouldn’t open as he stared at the water goddess. Before he had a chance for her response to register and to ask her what in the Underworlds she meant, Belisma wavered like the ripples from a stone tossed in a pond, and then she was gone.



“What the fuck?” This time he scrubbed both hands through his hair. “What the fuck did she mean, my soul?”



He was Incubae. He was a creation of the gods and goddesses. He didn’t have a soul.



He had heard stories in childhood, of demons granted reprieve from their soulless state, usually at the whim of some god—but he had never known that to happen in modern times.



Aedan shook his head and stared around his room. It was no surprise Belisma had been the one to answer his cry since she was his mother. But why the cryptic message?



My soul?



He stalked from one end of his large chamber to the other. The sound of the waterfall in the corner made a rushing sound like the blood in his ears.



It was well past his time of resting before he could lie down and attempt sleep.





Utterly exhausted, Ericka rolled out of bed, got to her feet, and stretched. Cool morning air drifted from the window over her bare skin.



Vivid images flashed through Ericka’s mind and crashed down on her. Her knees gave out and the bedsprings creaked as she dropped onto the bed. She blinked and rubbed her eyes with her fingertips. The dream rushed toward her—only it didn’t feel like a dream.



It felt like a memory.



Everything tumbled through her at once. She sucked in a deep breath and gripped her sheets in her fists.



Aedan. His name was Aedan. With every fiber of her being she knew he was real, a dream lover brought to life. He’d truly been coming to her every night.