Page 6 of Another Underworld

“Cecily,” he replied.

“What will happen if I can’t do this?” My voice was a whisper, but the intent behind the words was large and in charge.

He stared at me for a long moment. The man’s beauty was absurd. His black hair was slightly too long and all kinds of sexy. It was the kind of style that actors in Hollyweird spent big bucks on. Abaddon just woke up in the morning looking like that. His lips were insanely kissable and his body was a work of art. The fact that his insides eclipsed his exterior was just nuts. Knowing he loved me made me pinch myself occasionally. But I was secure in the fact that he did. I felt it at a bone-deep level. Never before had I felt the way I felt about him.

“Definethis,” he suggested.

Waving my hands in the air like I was swatting at bugs, I shook my head in frustration. “This,” I repeated. “All of this. I’m woefully underqualified to be the Goddess of the Darkness. Up until very recently, I was an over-the-hill former childhood actress about to make her comeback with a hit TV show. Now… now I can’t keep my thoughts straight. I have a powerful Immortal freak after me who scares the pants off of everyone. Pandora isn’t living inside me anymore, but she’s persona non grata in the Darkness. Not sure how I’m going to fix that one. She’s a demonic trash fire begging to happen. The munchkins are batshit, and while I mostly like them, if I see one more detached bloody limb laying around, I’m gonna yeet them into next year. That would be mean. I’m not mean, but right now, I’m not sure who I am. I think… I’m scared.”

“Cecily,” Abaddon said, grabbing my hand and pulling me into his lap. “I beg to differ about you being qualified. It’s your birthright.”

I began to refute his statement, but he held up a hand before I could get a word out. “You’ve already proven yourself—multiple times. You were made to be the Bitch Goddess Cecily. Period. I believe in you with every fiber of who I am.”

I rolled my eyes. “You also want to get in my pants,” I pointed out.

“That too,” he replied with a grin that practically melted my panties.

“You’re brave, darling child. I do believe that you’re perfect for the role you’ve been cast in,” Uncle Joe said, appearing in front of me with his bare balls floating dangerously close to my face. “The bravest person I’ve ever met!”

Smacking his balls away would accomplish nothing except making him feel bad. I’d rather yeet myself into next year rather than hurt my uncle’s feelings. He defined the words sweet and kind. Plus, he was a ghost, my hand would go right through his nuts.

“Not so sure about that, Uncle Joe,” I told him as he floated down to eye level. I was delighted that we were now face to face instead of my face to his testicles.

He smiled and winked. His skin was gray and papery and his eyes were sunken in his head, but he was beautiful to me. “Courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyway.”

“John Wayne,” I replied, naming the author of the quote. The quote game was a big one in my little family. Man-mom, Sean and I had played it for years.

“Correct!” he said with a giggle. “Courage is the complement of fear. A man who is fearless cannot be courageous. He is also a fool.” He then added, “That goes for women too.”

I had to think about who said that one. However, Abaddon beat me to the punch.

“Robert A. Heinlein,” he supplied.

“Wonderful!” Uncle Joe told him. “You fit in very nicely here, young man.”

Abaddon smiled. He was not young, but no one contradicted Uncle Joe. When I’d first met the Demon, he scowled constantly. Now? Not so much.

“I’ve got one,” he said.

“By all means, please share,” Uncle Joe said, rubbing his hands together with glee.

It didn’t take much to bring my uncle joy. That was a freaking lesson in itself.

“Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen,” Abaddon challenged us.

“Easy peasy,” I told him. “Winston Churchill.”

“Yep,” Abaddon said with a thumbs up. “You got one, Bitch Goddess Cecily?”

I raised a brow. Not at my name. I loved my title. However, I knew what he was doing. They’d given me some positive reinforcement and now it was my turn. “I do. Courage is not the absence of fear but rather the assessment that something else is more important than fear.”

“Best one yet!” Uncle Joe squealed. “And it can be attributed to Franklin D. Roosevelt.”

“While I appreciate the support, I’m still wonky about everything,” I admitted.

Uncle Joe patted my head. His hand went through my noggin, but the gesture was sweet. “And as Robert A. Heinlein said, you’d be a fool not to be fearful. However, as the lovely Candy Vargo says, you’re a badass, my lovely niece.”

Lovely wasn’t a word I’d use to describe Candy Vargo, but Uncle Joe had made his point. The stakes were too high to shove my head into the sand like an ostrich. Acting like the danger wasn’t real was a guaranteed way to fail and get a bunch of good people killed in the process. That wasn’t acceptable. I had many bad qualities, but avoiding confrontations wasn’t one of them.I’d never been a cut-and-run kind of gal, and I wouldn’t start now—not with the balance of the mortal and immortal realms at stake.

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