Page 54 of The Chosen Son

“Deimos!” I shouted. I would’ve fallen backward off my stool if the lumberjack hadn’t snapped an arm out and grabbed the front of my shirt. That gentle river of flickering memories now turned into a flash flood, swelling to overflow its banks, and instead of simply streaming around and past me, they now forced their way down my nose and throat, my eyes and ears. I couldn’t escape the images. I choked on them, sputtering.

Drowning.

I rememberedeverything. Being kidnapped and held against my will. The illness leaving me wrung out, then having my powers siphoned, trading it for the release of the shifters. The kisses…morethan kisses…

“Oh, gods,” I moaned, swaying on the stool, but the bartender kept a firm grip on me.

“You’re not going to pass out, are you? Whatever you do, don’t barf.” The young woman who’d first poured my beer appeared at the bartender’s side. “You need to be more careful, Wren. Sniff first, then pour.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know!” she said as she came around the bar to take me under the armpits. “Come on, up you go. Let’s get you some fresh air.”

I was barely aware of what they were saying around me as she lifted me off the stool and guided me toward the door, but I knew what I needed, and it wasn’t fresh air—it was Deimos.

As we emerged on the sidewalk, I tried to work my way out of the woman’s grip, but she was surprisingly strong for someone so petite. She barely came up to my shoulder, and she had intricate tattoos all the way up her stick-thin arms. “I have to go,” I wheezed.

“Not so fast,” she said, keeping an arm around my waist. “You should at least take a few minutes to—”

“No! I don’t have minutes! He’s going to kill Loki!”

She was shocked enough to loosen her grip, and I shoved free, staggering down the sidewalk, but within three steps, I had regained my balance and was off like a shot. Adrenaline helped to shake off the last of the brain fog, sharpening those memories into 4K. Fear drove me to push harder than I ever had, even when I’d been faced with certain death at the hands of Nefarious. This panic and dread were not compelled by the gods—this was good, old-fashioned home-grown terror.

There was a very good chance that Deimos would die today, and I would do whatever it took for our child not to grow up without his father.

Without a clear destination in mind, I headed for city hall. I told myself it was late, there was no way Loki was still there working, but as I got closer, I saw pops of color and light reflected off the buildings down the street, followed closely behind by the sharp crack that sounded like fireworks. How much time had passed while I was in Deimos’s underground lair? Was it the Fourth of July?

But I knew, even before rounding the corner toward city hall, that it wasn’t fireworks.

My breath came hard and fast against my lips, my limbs shaking with overuse, my shirt sticking to my torso with sweat, but I somehow found a way to dig deeper, urging myself to give everything I had. And when I rounded the corner, my knees nearly locked at the sight that greeted me.

The ground in front of city hall was burned, the walls littered with scorch marks. Deimos had a hand locked around Phobos’s throat, lifting him clear off the ground. Blood dripped from his jaw, his legs hung limp, and he slapped weakly at his captor’s arm. “Don’t makeme do this, Brother,” Deimos shouted, his knuckles turning white as he tightened his grip. “Just stand aside and let me kill him!”

“Deimos, stop!” I shouted, running across the street before I’d even considered what I might be doing.

Deimos snapped his head toward me, his eyes blazing, and the ground shook beneath my feet. I froze, a fissure splitting the earth before my feet, blocking my path. “Go home, Cameron. You shouldn’t be here.”

“No, this isexactlywhere I should be,” I said forcefully. “You have to stop. Put Phobos down and come home with me.Please!”

“Home…” His carefully constructed persona cracked, and I saw a glimpse of the man I loved. He lowered Phobos an inch. “What are you—?”

“I remember,” I said, pleading desperately for him to hear me. “I remembereverything. You and me… us? You can’t just erase what we have with a wave of your hand. What I feel is stronger than that!”

His eyes hardened, and he dropped Phobos into a heap on the ground. “There is no us, Cam. It doesn’t matter that you remember, it doesn’t make a difference. I was trying to make it easier on you, so this is regrettable, but you’ll just have to get over it.”

“Get over it?!” I sputtered, white-hot rage burning out the fear, but when I tried to take a step forward, the fissure widened, loose soil spilling into the blackness, and I stumbled back. “Would you pull your head out of your ass? I am sorry that your lover left you, but you have to think about the future now, Deimos.” I watched as he turned his back on me and stepped over his brother, striding determinedly up the steps to city hall.

“Deimos!” I shouted, taking another step, desperate to get through to him. “I’m pregnant!”

His steps faltered, then stopped, and when he turned to look back at me over his shoulder, he looked devastated. “You’re—”

I didn’t hear what he was about to say, because at that moment, the ground beneath my feet began to slip. Instinctively, I reached for the power that had lived within me for as long as I could remember, the steady presence that had saved my life so many times before, but this time… I came up short.

The prophecy I’d had that first time I’d met Phobos flashed briefly before my eyes, seeing him bloody and broken in a heap. This was always how it was going to end.

My stomach lurched as I dropped, and I scrabbled uselessly at the ground as I slid down. My fingernails tore, my shirt riding up, scraping along my stomach as my legs were swallowed into the earth. And I heard two voices calling my name as the ground closed over my head.

Chapter 22

Deimos

---