3. Flame

"Let me get this straight,"I drawl, propping my feet up on Orcus's coffee table as I relax against the leather couch behind me. "You want us to venture into an alternate reality where something called Monsters Night is celebrated in a Human Realm?"

"Rude," Reaper mutters. "Mating Night would be a kinder phrase."

"Or Fuck Fest," I offer casually.

Reaper sits forward. "Now that I'll attend. When do we leave?"

Orcus grunts, his irritation palpable. "We're portaling into an unknown realm to search for my mother, not play with breakable humans."

"Who says they're all breakable?" Reaper asks, cocking his head to the side. "There's a reason these otherworldly majestic creatures have chosen to visit this realm in search of mates, yes?"

"Majestic creatures," Orcus echoes with a sarcastic snort. "They could be real monsters, you know."

Reaper presses a palm to his chest, his expression one of clear indignation as he straightens his spine. "Are you going to start calling Death Fae ‘zombies' now?"

Orcus sighs and rolls his eyes. "Can you both be serious for a minute?"

"No," Reaper and I answer in unison.

Reaper chuckles and sprawls out in Orcus's office chair like he owns the room. I simply cross my feet at the ankles and tuck my hands behind my neck, my smile lazy as I gaze up at Orcus's prowling form. He's pacing his office like some sort of big rival cat. Which is humorous since he can't shift.

My inner beast purrs with contentment inside me, completely at peace among the two men I call my best friends.

Only friends, really.

Without them, I would happily live in solitary.

Alas, my jaguar rather likes Orcus and Reaper. Perhaps because they're useful.

Orcus is basically a god. And Reaper has all the shiny toys.

So much potential.

So much death.

"We're going to enter an unknown world via an illegal portal. I need you both focused and ready for anything to go wrong." He pauses midstep to look at me. "Maliki is going to let several ghouls through as a cover story. You'll be too busy protecting them to get your dick wet."

I arch a brow. "You severely underestimate my ability to multitask, my friend."

"I overestimate your ability to pay attention, too," he tosses right back, causing my smile to return.

"You do," I agree, stretching my arms over my head.

It's all in jest.

I'm very good with details and he knows it. And noticing details requires a certain degree of attention, something I perfected long ago.

"Flame isn't going to let anyone harm the ghouls. And I won't let anyone harm you," Reaper drawls as a blade appears in his hand—one he starts twirling between his long fingers. "So if that's all squared away, let's talk about what you know. Monsters Night aside, this reality we're going into is more… dystopian? As far as Human Realms are concerned, I mean."

Orcus runs his fingers through his dark hair and collapses into the open space beside me. "Yeah, dystopian is a good adjective. I've been using the small window portal Hades created to peek at different parts of the realm over the last week, and from what I've gathered, humans are assholes."

I snort. "That's not news."

"They've set up this elitist system where certain families in society own villages and basically treat all the humans in those villages like cattle," he goes on, ignoring my side commentary. "They're literally breeding them in an effort to create perfect brides and grooms for monsterkind. It's fucked up."

Reaper stops twisting his knife. "Breeding?"

"Of course that's the word you heard in my explanation," Orcus mutters.

"I heard all your words, but only one interested me," Reaper replies, setting his dagger down on the desk. "How exactly are they breeding these humans?"

Orcus shoots him a wry look. "You want me to pull up a portal window so you can watch?"

Reaper's mouth curls into an intrigued smile. "As a matter of fact, I do." He cocks his head. "However, I was actually asking how they're making these humans worthier of monsterkind. Are they infusing them with special genetics? Such as… genetics that will allow a human to take a knot?"

"Or a barb?" I interject, my inner predator suddenly very interested in this conversation.

"I don't know." Orcus falls silent, perhaps following our train of thought to the possibilities of humans being genetically modified to be more compatible. That, no doubt, was Reaper's intention when he mentioned a knot. Because Reaper himself didn't have one. Only Orcus did. And it impeded him significantly when searching for appropriate bed partners.

After a beat, Orcus shakes his head. "It doesn't matter. What I'm trying to say is, the elite humans treat the non-elite like commodities more than people. It's disgusting."

"Sounds more archaic than disgusting," I say, thinking back on mortal history and the times when royals very much ruled the Human Realm. Although, I suppose that was more about an uneven distribution of wealth and resources, not necessarily about treating other humans like cattle.

"I've been focusing on one of the Elite Cities," Orcus continues. "Primarily because there are supernaturals living there among these elite humans. I'm trying to better understand their security protocols. However, they keep sensing the portal—just like Hades warned me they would."

I pull my feet to the ground and brace my forearms on my thighs. "Are they hostile toward it?"

Orcus shakes his head. "No, just interested."

"Have they tried to communicate?"

Another shake of his head. "Not yet. But I haven't stuck around long enough for anyone to try."

"Then they're not efficiently tracking your portal movements," I translate.

"No. It could be because I'm doing sporadic hits in various places, or they're just used to portals randomly appearing and disappearing. It's hard to say."

"Well, if that's true, we could slip over now instead of forcing Maliki to put his neck on the line with Lucifer," Reaper points out after listening to my back-and-forth with Orcus.

"If we create a portal door now, they'll very easily track us, and I would prefer not to deal with another world's politics," Orcus replies.

"You mean Hades would prefer to avoid another world's politics, but has no problem putting Maliki in the path of Lucifer's wrath." Reaper's no longer smiling, his irritation over Maliki's upcoming sacrifice evident. The pair of them are good friends, which means Reaper will do whatever it takes to protect Maliki.

Just like Reaper would do whatever it takes to protect me and Orcus, too.

He might be sadistic and borderline insane, but he's a good ally.

Orcus sighs. "Maliki volunteered."

"Of course he did," Reaper returns. "Maliki will do anything Hades asks of him."

"Same could be said about us for Orcus," I murmur, shrugging. "Maliki's not the only one taking a risk, Reap. We all are."

"No." Reaper points at me, the reaction causing my lips to quirk up. "We're not doing that."

"Why not?" I ask, feigning innocence. "Too intimate for you?"

"I don't know, kitty cat. What do you think?"

My eyes narrow. "That's a terrible nickname."

"The same could be said for Reap."

"That's literally your name."

"And you're literally a cat," he tosses back at me.

"I'm a fucking jaguar, Death Fae. Not a kitty cat."

He lifts a shoulder like he didn't just insult me and my heritage. "Same thing."

I stand. "Want to play with my kitty cat?" I dare him.

Orcus sighs loudly from the couch. "You're both going to get us all killed on Monsters Night." He says it like he's annoyed, but I can hear the amusement lurking in his tone. He knows exactly what just happened—I purposely distracted Reaper.

There's no changing Maliki's mind.

Just like there would be no changing Reaper's mind or mine about going on this mission with Orcus.

We both know the importance of finding Orcus's mother. Just as we both know what's at stake should anyone find out what we're actually seeking in this other realm.

The three of us have been in this trio of ours for well over a thousand years. We might not be blood-related, but we consider ourselves to be brothers.

Reaper ignores my posturing and simply produces another one of his infamous weapons—this one a long throwing dagger.

He doesn't release it, though. Just taunts me with it by playing the silver metal between his fingers, whirling it in a way most others could never replicate.

All Death Fae have their talents.

Reaper's talent is weapons. He can create anything he desires with magic, then use it with absolute precision. He's quite literally the perfect assassin.

"I want to see inside this other realm," he says, his silver-blue eyes on me. They're glittering in the office's low lighting, just like his silvery hair. The long, thick locks are down today, dancing around his broad shoulders and giving him a wildish appearance.

He usually ties his hair back at the nape.

But it seems he's feeling a little unhinged at the moment. It makes me wonder if he's close to the edge of a psychotic episode—something caused by all the souls he's required to eat to survive.

Unfortunately, that sort of diet comes with a downside.

One that often leads to, well, insanity.

"We won't be able to look for long," Orcus informs Reaper, drawing me back to the discussion about the other realm. "But I can bring up a small portal window. There was something I wanted to watch today anyway."

That grabs my focus. "What did you want to watch?"

"A Day of the Choosing," he mutters. "Basically the selection process for the Monsters Night sacrifices. I heard one of the elitist assholes talking about it and wanted to see what it entails."

"You're going to go to this realm wanting to murder a bunch of mortals, aren't you?" Reaper muses as I sit beside Orcus once more.

"Probably," our godlike friend admits.

"Mmm," Reaper hums as he stands and wanders over to us on the couch. Rather than sit with us, he positions himself behind us, essentially guarding our backs. "Sounds yummy."

"Only you would think so," Orcus says to him.

I don't comment. Primarily because I don't need much motivation to rid the world of dark souls. If Reaper wants to snack on them while I do it, then I'll slice and dice and give him a good, bloody meal.

Dark strands whirl around us as Reaper's chaotic energy escapes from his skin, the long ribbons ashlike in appearance. Yet the obsidian wisps don't leave an essence behind, the power all belonging to Reaper. Every day, he seems to lose just a little more control of his inky threads.

I'm not sure what's causing it.

Age, perhaps. But it more likely has something to do with him lacking a mate. He needs a soul who can provide him with balance, anchor him in the now rather than in the past.

Alas, he has no interest in such a concept.

Reaper has embraced his psychotic side.

Soon, there will be no pulling him back to our reality.

Ancient words whisper on the breeze as Orcus calls upon a power that is uniquely his own. Mythos Fae, I marvel, always impressed by the level of vitality Orcus can command. He's a god more than a fae. A being of immense strength and ability, one who can traverse realms and realities with a mere incantation.

So fucking admirable,I think, jealous of his ability to move through time and space with such ease.

I'm part Shifter Fae, part Corpse Fae. While I have my own share of talents, teleportation is definitely not one of them.

A deep voice enters the room, one that causes me to frown.

"Everheart" is all it said.

"What the hell is an Everheart?" I wonder aloud.

Orcus shrugs as he starts panning around the image to take it away from a clear blue sky and down to a field of people.

No, not a field. It's… it's kind of like a town center? There's a bunch of broken streets and pathways leading to it, the outskirts framed by wheelbarrows and old-fashioned food stands.

"I feel like we just went back in time," Reaper says quietly. "Is this the eighteen hundreds or something?"

"No, but the people living in this world seem to favor that way of life," Orcus grumbles.

The fabric of Reaper's leather jacket shifts behind my head, suggesting he just crossed his arms. "Weird."

I'm about to add my own two cents regarding the image when movement in the middle of the screen catches my attention. A woman with a translucent veil covering her dark hair starts through the crowd, causing them all to part around her like she's walking down the aisle at a wedding.

Except everyone in attendance is wearing either a bridal gown or a tuxedo.

And unlike all the other females in attendance, this one has her veil pushed back to reveal her face.

"Can you zoom in on her?" I ask without thinking, my jaguar stirring inside me. There's something about this female that seems to call to him. The determination in her expression? Her fierce eyes?

Eyes that are the color of midnight.

Shimmering.

Stunning.

And even more expressive now that Orcus has the portal focused on her.

She doesn't seem to see us, probably because of whatever magic Orcus is using to peek inside at this reality. It's a voyeuristic ability that could have so many uses. But for now, I'm content to just… follow this woman through the crowd.

"Fuck, she's beautiful," Reaper whispers behind me.

"Yeah," I agree, swallowing. "A sleek panther among a herd of sheep."

"I don't think that's the right saying." Reaper utters the sentence in a distracted way, like he's just commenting about my incorrect phrase while remaining entirely captivated by the screen. "But I'm starting to understand the appeal of this mating-night thing."

The portal shifts as she reaches the stage, causing my lips to curl down when I realize all the other females up there still have their veils pulled down. Why is this one showing her face when everyone else is hiding?

"That makes nine Offerings for this year's Day of the Choosing," an elderly human announces from a podium.

No one applauds.

No one even seems to breathe.

"This is fucked up," Reaper says. "I assume Offerings are the humans going to the… mating fest?"

"Monsters Night," Orcus corrects him. "Yes, that's what I've gathered."

"Shit," I breathe, still watching the one called Everheart. Or I assume that's her name, anyway. She moved right after this elderly guy called for her. It's a safe guess, and a fitting one.

Because her gorgeous face is heart-shaped.

Everheart.

The guy in charge says something else that I miss, causing her eyes to widen slightly as she holds his intense gaze. Because he's looking right at her, and she's boldly staring back.

Everyone else is bowing their head, even the others on the stage.

But not her.

She's holding her own with her confident expression and bold stance.

A panther challenging a fellow predator,I recognize. So fucking hot.

But before I can see how the scene ends, the vision disappears.

"Hey! I was enjoying that," I protest.

"Me, too," Reaper grouses.

Orcus snorts. "I can't keep it open for longer than a few minutes without being noticed. But I'm glad to see your interest is piqued. Should we discuss our strategy, then, for Monsters Night?"

"Strategy?" I repeat, my heart beating a little too rapidly in my chest.

My inner beast is intrigued. He wants out. To be free. To prowl. To hunt.

That delicious little brunette checked all our boxes.

Maybe this mission can have two purposes. First, find Orcus's mother. Second, track down that dark-haired feline.

Everheart.

That's a name I won't soon forget.

See you soon, little panther.