Miranda Grant's Blog - Posts Tagged "mythology"

Estimating that they had another half a mile to go before reaching Dirk, Jack turned his head to his comrade and asked, “So what’s up with your wings?”

Xeno's jaw didn’t tick in irritation. Her nostrils didn’t flare in anger. Her eyes didn’t widen in fear that he dared ask her secret. She simply stared silently ahead, not doing a single thing that conveyed that she had heard him.

But he knew she had. He also knew she wouldn’t answer. Angels were as secretive as they came and Xeno was even more tight lipped than most these days. She hadn’t always been like this, but thirteen years ago, everything had changed. That joyous woman Jack had once known, the one whom would crack jokes with him in the dead of night, was dead. She had died in that castle and not one of them could revive her.

Nevertheless, Jack was too curious to let it go. Ever since they had saved her from her torture, Xeno had been rapidly turning into a fallen angel. Not even two weeks ago, she had barely been able to fly given the ragged mess her wings were in. Now, all of a sudden, over a single night, she was healing? It didn’t make any sense.

In all of his years alive, Jack had never come across a single angel that had managed to reverse their transition into a fallen. It had always been a done deal with the only variable being the length of time it took. Some fell within days, others it took years, decades even. Jack had been certain that Xeno wouldn’t last much longer.

But now…

“What happened, Xeno? What’d Gabriel do to you?”

At this, she did look at him. Her eyes were as dead and empty as always, but there was something in her face, something shielded. Whatever her secret was, Jack had guessed right. Gabriel was at the heart of it.

“Drop it, Jack,” she said calmly. “Or it won’t be just my secret that’s bared.”

The shock hit him like a solid blow to the chest. She didn’t know. She couldn’t. But her steely eyes said she did.

Shrugging casually, Jack ignored the hammering of his heart and the cold chill running down his back. “If you’re talking about telling them I’m bi, I doubt that’ll come as a surprise.”

She didn’t say anything, just turned her attention back ahead. Her threat had been made and Xeno never uttered them twice. She never needed to.

Cursing violently in his head, Jack tried to ignore the dark whispers rising inside him. Those that vowed Xeno hadn’t merely been bluffing to throw him off her trail. Those that urged him to protect his secret at all costs.

In another few minutes, they would be entering the outskirts of Dirk. The city was home to over a quarter million demons and twice that many convicts. Even the most quiet of alleyways would have someone all too willing to kill an angel. Especially one that doubled as an Elv’ve’Nor.

For despite how far the Underground of Halzaja had progressed over the years, it was still a land of barbarians. They lived by their own code and they policed by their own code. Anyone who tried to regulate that was as unwelcome as a cannibal at a blow job fest.

It would be so easy for Jack to run out of magic just at the wrong time. Even with everyone falling back to protect her, Xeno wouldn’t survive an outing in the middle of a drazic city. His comrades would fight as well as they could; Hunter would even helplessly sacrifice himself in an attempt to save her.

And yet Xeno would still fall, torn apart by teeth and claws until only her blood remained.

She’s my friend, Jack reminded himself even as a part of him latched onto the image of her death as a welcome solution. With every step he took toward the city, those dark whispers rose in volume until his head pounded with the force of their screams. And then that thing shifted inside him, its movements a physical slither across his ribcage.

But our secret will be safe.

The thing made it sound so easy, so desirous that Jack almost found himself agreeing. After all, he’d done a lot of callous shit over the years; what was one more?

Nothing, it whispered. Her death will mean nothing.

An image flashed inside Jack’s head. A beast as black as death and as large as a dragon crouched behind silver bars. Luminescent runes were carved into the metal, their power so strong that Jack could feel them pulsing in his veins.

And then suddenly, there he was, appearing in the image as if it was his right. He stood outside of the bars, staring into the bright, eerie eyes of the beast. They weren’t amber like he had, for some reason, expected, but a deep, dark red that burned with intelligence. And hatred.

As Jack looked into those familiar eyes, his skin crawled as if it was home to a million spiders. With sudden clarity, he realized that this wasn’t just a random image that had popped into his head. It was a peephole into his very soul. And that thing in front of him wasn’t just a terrifyingly large monster. It was that dark other half of him that terrified even his father.

But though Jack heard the warning bells and wanted desperately to listen to them, he still saw himself reaching out a hand. His fingers had just slipped through the bars of the cage when Galvanor’s calm voice ruptured the thing’s spell.

Demons in sight. We’ve reached the outskirt of Dirk.

Blinking rapidly, Jack watched as the scene inside his head disappeared on a plume of smoke. One more blink and it was gone completely.

Swallowing hard, he flicked his eyes to Xeno. She didn’t look as if she’d noticed his little mini trip down the rabbit hole and Jack was too unsettled to dig any deeper than that. With a wave of his hand, he placed her under the cover of his magic.

A moment later, the demons Galvanor mentioned came into view. Jack forced his lips to part in an easy smile as he fought to stay calm.

He hadn’t touched that thing, hadn’t released it from its cage to wreck death and destruction across the Planes. He had denied its wishes yet again. He was not about to uncover his friend and watch as she was ripped apart by her mortal enemies. Reminding himself of all this helped, but then –

Give it time. I will be free.

Swallowing hard, Jack did his best to ignore it.

Only it wasn’t that easy to dismiss something that, he too, believed in. He had been fighting the thing for too long and where he’d been growing tired of it, the thing had only grown stronger. It was only a matter of time before it finally broke free.

Jack could feel it in his bones. Everything was about to change.

EVERYTHING IS ABOUT TO BURN

We all know the story. Cinderella's father remarries. She gets a shitty new family. He dies in a tragic accident and she is forced into a life of servitude.

But what happens when Ella meets a dark fae who tempts her to embrace the darkness in her heart? When he shows her the fire she was born with and coaxes those powers to light? What happens when he tells her that she doesn't need a prince. She needs a crown...

The world will burn.

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Prologue

"By the gods, woman! I’m not blind! I can see that she’s not mine!” King Rekzor roared, pointing furiously at the babe in his wife’s arms. “That, that thing is an abomination!”

Crimson eyes flashing, Queen Ignis met his fury with the blaze of her own. “Abomination or not, she is our daughter!” The ‘our’ was stressed so fiercely that Rekzor could only stare in gaping silence.

How could she be dumb enough to think that he would believe her? The evidence of her infidelity was staring him right in the face! No child of his would have blue eyes. He was a fire elementalist, born into one of the oldest clans. Red eyes had been dominant in his family for millennia – as they had been in his wife’s line! For the babe to have blue eyes, the bitch must have cheated.

Rekzor growled. He had half the mind to strangle her before she could regain her strength. But the other half, blast it, was still madly in love with her. Even when faced with solid proof, the King couldn’t bring himself to punish his queen. Gods knew why; she fucking deserved it.

Snarling, he shook his head in disgust and turned away. He couldn’t look at them for a moment longer. Her eyes pleaded with him, while the baby’s called him a fool.

Stalking to the door, Rekzor addressed not his queen, but the midwife.

“There was no birth here, tonight,” he snapped. “Do you understand? Our baby was born without breath.”

“Rekzor!” Queen Ignis shouted.

Turning, he created a ball of fire in his hand. His eyes were as dark as his soul, expressing the depth of his anger. “Shall I burn it now? Shall I toss this ball at its head!”

He was spitting with fury. His heart was breaking. He hated that fucking babe.

And yet, his wife had the audacity to pull the bastard tighter to her chest. “You will do no such thing! She is our daughter!”

“She is no daughter of mine!” The fireball got hotter, brighter. It twisted with his pain, fed on the anger boiling inside him. “She has blue eyes!” he roared. “She will have the power of water – an ability neither of us has!”

“I did not sleep with a water elementalist!” Queen Ignis’ entire body flushed, her skin burning with the force of her own rage. She was one of the very few fire elementalists with the ability to turn her whole body into a weapon. Most, like he, could only control it through their hands.

“Do not lie to me!” If he threw the ball, Ignis wouldn’t be hurt. The babe would though. It would cook alive, not yet old enough to smother its flames. Oh gods, was he tempted.

“Don’t you dare,” she growled. The baby started to cry, the room getting too hot for its fragile flesh.
King Rekzor sneered in disgust. Still, he could not bring himself to kill the babe. Ignis would never forgive him.

He sucked in a harsh breath at that, wanting so much to scream. She should be the one begging for his forgiveness. She was the one that had robbed him of an heir by sleeping with a fucking water elementalist! She was the one who had broken his trust, who had broken his heart.

Shaking his head, he closed his fist. The flames snuffed out as if they’d never been. “Get rid of it tonight,” the King ordered. “Or I swear upon Hades’ last breath, I will burn the bastard alive.”

Not waiting for an answer, Rekzor stalked into the hall and slammed the door shut behind him. He waited until he’d rounded the corner before dropping to his knees. With a heart-wrenching scream, he threw his arms out wide. Fire erupted from his palms, licking down the hall in testament to his anger and pain.

He didn’t stop until he heard it – the solemn tolling of bells. Breathing deeply, he then dropped his arms to his sides. Fire no longer poured from his palms, no longer screamed of his agony. For the bells had a message, the most beautiful message of them all: the bastard was dead.

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