Chapter 36

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

A second before we hit the ground, her fist collides with my side, forcing me into a tight spiral.

Oomph!

Somehow, we land on our sides, now back to back, our shoulders gouging the ground.

I try to shove myself upright at the same as she does, both of us headed in the same direction. The movement wrenches my head back so sharply that the backs of our heads knock into each other at the same time.

Crack!

My vision swims. Her groan of pain is louder than mine.

The whip's handle has ended up pressed between what must be her shoulder blades and my shoulder blades, which is anchoring us both right where we are, and it's not as if either of us is going to let go of the lash we've wrapped around the other's neck any time soon.

There we sit, back to back, lashes around each other's necks.

All I can do is tug at the lash, unable to cut through it, keeping my free hand between it and my throat to give me space to breathe.

I'm satisfied that at least she's gasping for breath as hard as I am.

But damn. What now?

Something cold moves against my lower spine, and I squeeze my eyes closed at the possibility that it's the snake. I expect to feel its bite any moment now…

I'm surprised when I don't.

For a long minute, we remain sitting like that, the backs of our heads pressed painfully against each other's, neither one of us loosening our grip.

Her rasped question breaks the strained silence between us. "Why didn't you… use your wings just now?"

I rasp back. "How do you know… I have wings?"

She makes a sound that could be a snort. "I'm a fury."

I consider my response. My muscles are straining. Sweat drips down my brow. But if I let go of the lash around her neck, I have no guarantee she won't break my neck immediately.

"My wings are useless."

She's quiet for another moment, her breaths rasping audibly, and then she says, "I think you've become so good at getting back up after you fall that you've learned to survive without the ability to fly."

My eyes widen.

I've fallen many times. Failed many times. Been beaten so many times.

She whispers, "My name is… Rebella."

One who rebels.

I struggle to reply, partly because I'm still processing what she said and partly because it's becoming increasingly difficult to speak and breathe at the same time. "That's quite… a name."

"I was one of three furies, but not any longer," she says.

"Oh?" It hasn't escaped me that the other two furies I expected to encounter haven't made an appearance.

I fully anticipated that they might emerge from the cabin because I have a sense that it's well lived in. Maybe it's the various scents in the air around it or the homey appearance of the place, despite its rugged aspects.

"I lost my sisters long ago," she gasps. "In the fight against the primordial deity, Typhon. That fight left me in a cage. I believe you understand what that feels like."

I shudder despite myself. If her story is true, then she is yet another powerful woman put in a cage.

Still, I'm surprised at how candid she's being. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I don't like being indebted to a dark creature, and I would much rather kill you, but… Damn it …"

The lash around my neck loosens.

I'm shocked to realize she must have let go of her end of it. Which means I'm free. But she isn't.

I could use her choice against her, but I didn't come here to kill her.

Letting go of the lash I was holding, I roll away from her, coming up in a crouch, now facing her.

I drag air into my chest as fast as I can while I wait for my lacerated vocal cords to heal. "Indebted to me? How, exactly?"

Her chest is heaving. The golden snake slithers up and around her neck, slowly gliding in a loose circle that appears protective of the bruises I left on her.

Bruises that are rapidly fading.

"You protected my son and ensured he was escorted to safety."

"Your son is Elijah," I say. And then I add cautiously, "He's a good kid."

Her eyes glisten for a moment. "Elijah is one of a kind." She presses her lips together, taking a deep breath. "He's safer with the supernaturals of St. Michael Cemetery than he could be out here with me. They understand what it's like to be…. unusual."

Well, the way she describes the supernaturals of St. Michael Cemetery makes me want to meet them. From what I know, one of them is also a fury and they're all extremely powerful, but I have no other information about them.

Rebella takes another shuddering breath, blinking hard at the tears in her eyes before she tips her chin at me. "What do I call you?"

I arch an eyebrow at her. "You're a fury. How do you not know my name?"

"I know you currently call yourself Veda ."

I narrow my eyes. "That's right."

She peers at me. "Is that really your name?"

What a question.

But I guess it's valid coming from a being who can see into my soul.

"What would you call me?" I ask, genuinely curious.

She arches an eyebrow at me. "What else do you call a riddle except a riddle ?"

Ha, that's what I'd call the keeper. "Then call me ‘ Riddle .'"

She snorts, but her eyes become piercing, the golden hue increasing in intensity. "Perhaps I would rather call you ‘ Vulture .'"

My brow furrows. "If I'm correct in my understanding of the animal world, vultures pick over carcasses. I think I'm offended."

"Oh, but vultures have a crucial role to play in an ecosystem," she says, her gaze so sharp now that it feels like she's flaying my skin from my body with her eyes instead of her whip. "They clean the bones that other predators are too lazy to clean. They consume diseased flesh to ensure the rot does not spread, enabling the good health and survival of others."

She inches closer to me. "Vultures can tear at the rotten soul of an ecosystem with an efficiency that's breathtaking."

I allow myself to grin because I guess a vulture doesn't sound so insulting, after all.

"Of course," she continues, "they are not loved for it."

I exhale my sigh.

But it seems she has decided to persist. "You seek to excise your father's evil, do you not?"

I can't help the challenge that rises to my lips. "What makes you think I'm not equally evil? I'm a dark creature, too."

"There's a difference between darkness and evil," she says.

It was only a few hours ago that I came to the same conclusion.

But then… she is seeing into my soul.

She may be deliberately reinforcing my own conclusions.

But for what purpose?

She let me live. She's chosen to give me more information about herself than I expected, and now I need to know why.