Page 37 of Gods and Graves

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

THEA

T he entrance to the Underworld is in…an amusement park.

An abandoned one, to be exact, located about one hundred miles south of Chicago.

“I never knew this place existed,” I murmur, staring up at the dilapidated sign reading Frankie’s Fun Zone .

Krystian snorts from beside me. “You didn’t know a lot of places existed. Hell, you thought McDonald’s was an actual clown and not a fast-food restaurant until this morning.”

“He is a clown,” I declare adamantly.

“The McDonald’s mascot may be a clown, but I don’t think that’s his name,” Krystian says.

I arch a brow. “You sure about that?”

He opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again. Finally, he concedes with a sigh, absently scratching at the back of his neck. “Okay, okay. Point taken.”

I fist pump the air, and he rolls his eyes at me.

“You’re such a dork.”

“So where exactly in this park are we going?” Everett asks, scowling.

He stands at the front of the group but turns to stare at us over his shoulder.

Zaid, who’s behind me, says, “The Hall of Mirrors. At least, that’s what Athena said.”

Apparently, Athena’s been texting Zaid. Yup, they’re texting buddies now. I’m not sure how I feel about that. Yes, I know Athena’s in love with dead men and Zaid has feelings for me, but still. The little green monster inside of me refuses to calm down.

The only thing that settles the beast is the reminder of what we got up to last night. A warm flush spreads through me at the memory of his cock in my mouth, his hands in my hair. He stared at me with nothing short of reverence, like I was the goddess he chose to worship, not Athena.

I bite my lip and glance over my shoulder at Zaid and Rafe, who both meet my gaze with hooded looks.

Yeah. I suppose I don’t have anything to be jealous about.

“Come on.” Everett gestures for us to follow him.

The air’s thick with the scent of decay and mold as we move through the entrance gate, which is now nothing but a crumbling structure overrun with weeds and ivy.

“What happened to this place? Why is it abandoned?” I ask, lifting my legs to step over a rotted piece of wood.

“Owner must’ve fallen on hard times,” Krystian answers, his lips pursing as he studies our surroundings. “They probably had no choice but to put it up for sale. When no one bought it, they shut it down and allowed it to wither away. No point in upkeeping a closed business.”

We step cautiously over cracked pavement, the sound of our footsteps echoing eerily in the empty space.

The towering Ferris wheel looms in the distance, its once-bright colors now faded and chipped. Some of the seats sway slightly in the breeze, creating a ghostly, haunting rhythm.

Roller coaster tracks thrust overhead like a massive skeletal hand, reaching towards the sky but suspended in time, forgotten. A dilapidated funhouse with peeling paint and boarded-up windows stands nearby, its mirrors cracked, distorting the faint reflections of us as we pass.

Krystian pauses, studying the mirror curiously.

“Is that where we have to go?” I ask, stopping beside him.

“No, this is the funhouse, not the mirror maze. It’s just…” A frown tugs at his lips, and he shakes his head ruefully. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s obviously something,” I counter.

The others have moved slightly ahead, granting us a semblance of privacy, which I’m grateful for. Something is obviously bothering Krystian. It has been since this morning. He tries to act like his usual jovial self, but there’s a heaviness to him that hasn’t been there prior.

“What’s going on?” I press, nudging him slightly with my elbow.

“It’s just…” He bites down on his lip, debating, before blurting out, “It’s Krys.”

I frown. “What about him?”

“Do you remember when we were in the maze? And we were staring into the loom?”

How could I forget? I saw image after image of some of the more memorable souls I reaped.

The old man holding his wife’s hand.

The little girl lying on a hospital bed.

The young woman who had just been beaten, raped, and left for dead on the side of the road.

“Well, I saw things that didn’t make sense,” Krystian continues. “The memories I saw… They weren’t mine. At least, I didn’t think they were until I started looking closer. I realized that they were Krys’s memories.”

He takes a shuddering breath, but I don’t speak to fill the silence—which is a miracle, because I love speaking. However, I can tell he needs to gather his thoughts before he’s capable of continuing the story.

“I saw some of the things Krys did—some of the people he hurt and killed—and at first, I was horrified. But then some of his thoughts drifted to me, and I realized how horrible these people were. They were murderers. Rapists. The scum of the earth. Take the motorcycle club you two visited. Every person in that bar was involved in an underground trafficking ring.”

He turns to stare at me, confusion swarming in his eyes. “The people he kills aren't all that different from the ones I kill.”

“Krys isn’t some sort of evil monster,” I tell him gently, rubbing his arm. “He’s you. And yes, he may have darker urges and a lack of inhibition, but he’s not the bad guy. At least, he isn’t in your story.”

“Last night…” He ruffles a strand of his white-gold hair. “Last night was the first time I remembered everything that happened. I didn’t wake up confused and disoriented, wondering where I was and how I’d gotten there.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re finally accepting that part of yourself?” I suggest.

“Yeah. Maybe.” He rubs a hand down his face with a ragged sigh. Then he forces a smile, that single dimple appearing on his cheek. “But enough of this depressing shit. We have the Underworld to get to.”

“Krystian…” I don’t want to leave this conversation if the issue is still bothering him.

His smile turns more genuine. “Later,” he promises, grabbing my hand and giving it a squeeze. “I promise.”

I nod to show him I understand. Now isn’t the time.

We meet with the others, who are watching us curiously. Everett levels an unreadable glance at Krystian and cocks an eyebrow.

“We good?” the shifter asks.

Krystian nods. “Yeah. We’re good.”

The five of us continue to walk once more, past a carousel with horses frozen in mid-gallop, cloaked in shadows. Past game stalls with dirty bears dangling from the ceiling, pieces of their bodies missing and stuffing protruding from their bellies.

We wander deeper, our breaths visible in the cold. We don’t speak again, as if any noise will shatter the illusion of serenity.

“This is it,” Everett tells us gruffly, pulling to a stop in front of a huge purple building.

The sign above reads Hall of Mirrors in bright, peeling paint.

“So the portal is just…inside?” I bring my thumb to my lip and chew on the nail, my nerves frolicking in my belly.

“According to Athena, yes,” Zaid answers. “Hades hid one here years ago. Apparently, he made a deal with the owner.”

My nose wrinkles. “Why would anyone make a deal with the God of the Dead?”

“The owner was probably promised a permanent spot in Elysium,” Zaid explains. He frowns and studies the crumbling building. “But one thing Athena stressed in her message—only one of us can enter the building at a time. We must wait at least five seconds, and then the next can enter.”

“What?” Everett’s scowl deepens.

“Not happening,” Rafe agrees, lazily spinning a knife in the air.

Zaid’s lips firm. “If we don’t follow her instructions, then we’re dead.”

An uneasy silence permeates the air until Everett breaks it. “All right. I’ll go first. Krystian, you follow. Then Thea. Then Zaid. Then Rafe. Everybody in agreement?”

Krystian, Zaid, and I say, “Yes.”

Rafe simply mutters, “No,” and shoots a dark glance at the windowless building.

Everett ignores him and steps forward. He stops suddenly, whirls around, and halts before me. He grips my cheeks tightly, possessively, and guides my lips to his.

It’s a fleeting kiss, but it makes my insides light up like a thousand fireworks.

“Ohh. Everett and Thea kissing in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” Krystian sings, stopping only when Rafe hits him across the back of the head.

“Be safe,” I tell Everett.

I know he’s going first to scout for any threats. He always puts himself in harm’s way to protect us. It’s infuriating.

“Always.” He flashes me a cocky grin and then spins towards the maze of mirrors. He disappears through the entrance seconds later.

“One. Two. Three. Four. Five,” Zaid counts. He turns towards Krystian. “Your turn.”

Krystian smirks and turns towards me, playfully tapping at his lips. “Kiss for good luck?”

I pretend to think about it, then I lean forward and plant a chaste kiss to his cheek. Before I can pull away, he grips the back of my neck and brings my lips to his.

“Naughty, naughty girl,” he growls playfully, nipping at my lower lip. Energy fires up my spine in a series of sporadic explosions.

What would he do if I deepen the kiss?

Bite him back?

Tug at his hair?

He pulls away, albeit reluctantly, and turns towards the others, effectively obliterating all of my naughty thoughts.

“See you on the other side.” He salutes them then bounces up the steps.

The door opens, and he disappears inside of it.

Five more seconds pass.

“I don’t understand why we have to do this,” I murmur, shifting uncomfortably. “Is it because the door is a portal? Is the portal inside? Why the five-second rule? It’s not like this is food that’s been dropped on the ground, you know?”

I’m rambling. I know I am.

But I can’t seem to stop.

Fear has twisted my stomach into tight knots.

“You’ll be okay,” Zaid reassures me, pulling me in for a hug. His arms wrap around me, safe and comforting. “Everett and Krystian will be waiting for you. Rafe and I won’t be far behind.”

I meet Rafe’s gaze over Zaid’s shoulder, and he nods solemnly, reiterating everything Zaid just told me.

“Okay.” I reluctantly untangle myself from Zaid’s embrace. “Let’s do this.”

Steeling my spine, I stalk up the stone steps and through the front door.

The first thing I notice is that Everett and Krystian are nowhere to be seen.

The next thing is that I’m not yet in the Underworld.

The air is thick with a chill that seems to wrap around my skin. Darkness stretches endlessly, only broken by the eerie glow of mirrors standing erect in the black void.

Each one reflects me, but not as I am. They’re all twisted versions of myself.

They stare back at me, their faces contorted into demented grins, their eyes wild and hollow.

Their smile… It’s wrong. It’s like I’m looking at someone else, someone evil.

The kind of innate evil that chills you to your core.

I turn away quickly, but everywhere I look, those reflections are there, mocking me with their monstrous expressions.

Some smile wider, their eyes glinting with a sinister light, while others point, their fingers rigid and accusing.

They all seem to be pointing in the same direction, to the far end of the maze.

I hesitate, my heart pounding in my chest, but I can’t ignore them. They want me to go that way. I have no choice but to follow.

I walk, my footsteps deafeningly loud, and with each step, the twisted reflections grin wider, their eyes burning with an unsettling anger.

The mirrors around me start to distort even more, their edges bending and flickering like broken television screens.

I blindly move through the maze, following the direction of their fingers.

Left, right, left, right, right, left. At one point, I accidentally brush against one of the mirrors, and a sharp, icy sensation crawls up my arm.

I flinch automatically, backing away from the reflection that is now laughing uproariously.

Finally, after what feels like hours, I reach the end.

There’s a stand but no mirror, just an empty frame.

My breath catches.

Something pulls at my insides, a gut-wrenching sensation.

In the middle of the frame is a void, a black hole, so deep and fathomless it looks like the fabric of reality itself has been torn open. It’s so dark that I can’t see anything beyond it.

A part of me screams to turn back, to find another way, but I know that this is where I’m supposed to go.

The portal to the Underworld.

Beyond it, Krystian and Everett are waiting for me.

This maze of mirrors is obviously some type of test. It wouldn’t surprise me if Athena herself designed it, given her penchant for mazes.

I take a step forward, and then another, until I’m standing in front of it. My mind is screaming at me to stop and turn away, but my feet move of their own accord.

And before I can even suck in a full breath, I’m falling into the darkness.