“It was an accident, you know that?” I say, tipping up my head and putting on what I hope is a defiant stare. There’s probably no point in reasoning with these guys, but what the hell. I might as well try to talk my way out of this - it’s not like I have anything to lose at this point.
“What was?” the man asks, tilting his head to the side.
“Killing your brother,” I answer, crossing my arms. In spite of my blustering, the nervousness is taking hold of me, and it’s all I can do to keep from visibly shaking.
The last higher god watches me for a long time, and for several moments there is no sound except the wind in the trees. Finally, he gives me a slow, knowing nod, and lowers his hood so I can get a good look at him. I don’t know what I expected to see, but whatever it was, it wasn’t this. Red hair, red eyes, and man, is he creepier than even Storm described him as. It’s more than the pale skin and red eyes (although, let’s be real - those certainly don’t help). It’s more like a feeling that he radiates. I can sense something is very feckin’ wrong with him somehow, like just being in his presence is making me sick. He looks just like his brother I killed, but there is a cut on his eyebrow that stands out, mainly because it looks like a horn shape. If I drew two ball shapes at the end, it would look a lot like something else, and that is not a shape you want on your forehead. That thought is almost enough to make me laugh, but not quite.
“I know you didn’t mean to kill your father on purpose,” he says, his voice overly-patient all of a sudden. “That isn’t in your nature, from what your family and friend have told me,” he adds, and so much about that one statement makes me step back, my hands dropping down. They’ve spoken to my family. They’ve spoken to Mads. Could they be here right now? Have they been imprisoned by these bastards? If so, that puts them in just as much danger as I am.
It’s only after a few seconds that the significance of his statement fully hits me. Did he just say the dude I killed was my father? What crap is this higher god snorting?
“I think you have the wrong person. He wasn’t my father,” I tell him, lifting my head and locking my eyes on his. The red is so much darker when you really look into his eyes. It’s endless, like a sea of blood. I imagine he has spilt enough blood in his lifetime that he could easily fill a sea. The higher gods aren’t as all powerful and knowing as they think they are; instead, they are cruel, and they are monsters that happen to rule. I wish Storm was out here with me. He could put them in their place.
“Yes, he was. See, your powers can’t hurt me because I learnt long ago how to protect myself from my brother’s powers. Your powers come from him, so they are the same in some respect,” the creepy god tells me, his voice slow and almost like a purr of satisfaction.
“You’re crazy,” I laugh. “A crazy feckin’ eegit.”
“Oh, you poor little mouse, you really didn’t know?” he asks, tilting his head to the side and smiling, though his words suggest sympathy. His sisters laugh like this is all some big joke as I take a step back, shaking my head. Could it be true? Everything he said? Did I kill my father without even knowing it was him? My mother wouldn’t have cheated on my dad. No way. This must be all lies. Some part of my heart hurts though as my eyes water with tears. A deep part of me thinks it is true, no matter how much I try to hush that part. Memories come rushing back to me of times I’ve overheard my parents arguing, saying that mum had to tell me something because I was getting older. I always brushed it off as them arguing who was going to give me the sex talk or something. I never thought it was serious…at least most of me didn’t. Not until this moment. “Oh, you really didn’t have a clue, did you? How very sad to live a life not knowing where and who you came from.”
“I’m not who you think I am. My mother is—”
“Is dead. Your aunt brought you up as hers, hiding you away like a little pet. I suppose she must have always wanted a girl with that many boys,” he replies, his answer cold and cruel. I’m not a pet to my mum. She loves me; that I don’t doubt. If what he is saying is true, one of my dead aunts is my mother. Which one? I don’t know hardly anything about them. Maybe that is why mum never wanted to talk about the past and my aunts, because it hurt too much.
“No,” I mutter, shaking my head and taking another step back. Tears fall from my eyes this time, and they make everything so real. The warm wind blowing against me, the night sky with the millions of stars that watch us all, knowing the truth. The salty air I can almost taste with every breath, and the distant sound of waves, washing against the sand. I don’t know the truth or who to believe. I hate that a deep part of me believes him straightaway and desperately wants to know more.
“Yes. My brother had a thing for Irish women, and I believe I met your mother once. She was actually in love with him, while he never loved anyone that wasn’t his family,” the light haired twin softly says, her voice sounding like what I’d imagine angels sound like. Though I imagine she is an angel of death, and her voice is only sweet to lull poor victims into her trap.
“I don’t understand,” I mumble.
“You are a child of a higher god, the only one still alive, I believe. Neritous went on a killing spree after a seer god told him his child would murder his family and rewrite the world as we know it. You can see how we wouldn’t want that; we do like to rule,” the man says with a frown. “Honestly, I think he was overdramatic. I’ve never known a seer to be right.”
“So you are going to kill me? Not that I believe a single word you are saying,” I spit out, feeling more than frustrated as I shake with anger and shock. It can’t be friggin’ true. “I know who my parents are, and I’m not a child of a higher god.”
“The only way a higher god can be killed is with the power of the higher gods. You couldn’t have killed him if what I’ve told you were a lie,” he tells me.
“Then what do you want?” I ask, and I wipe the tears on my cheeks away. I’m not sure what they are falling for. The truth, Jade being gone, or the fact they are going to kill me. I won’t ever get to see Storm or the justice twins again, and that really hurts. I’ve grown attached to the assholes. I will never get to see my family or Mads again. Or hell, even Michael or Kit.
“We lost a brother, and we need a replacement. Welcome to the family, Karma Maria Cyncus.”
2
“I-I don’t believe you,” I stutter, shaking my head as quickly as if there were a bee in my hair. His words are rolling around in my mind like a boulder, enormous in their weight and significance, and no matter how much I try to resist them, they just won’t leave.
Karma Maria Cyncus. A child of a higher god. It doesn’t seem real; this all feels like a bad dream, and I tell myself any minute now I’m going to wake up safe and sound in my own bed at home. No higher gods. No murder. No conspiracies. Things can go back to the way they used to be, and this time, I’ll appreciate the life I had before. I swear it…
Except I’m not at home in bed, and this is no dream. The pain that wracks my body is testament enough of that. Even still, my brain rebels every time I consider this man’s words. If this is true, then it means my family lied to me - has lied to me, for years. But I know my mum, and she’s no liar. Neither is my dad. They love me, and they would have done anything to keep me safe.