“Love hurts. I get it.”
He grinned; I grimaced. His yellowed teeth resembled his father’s. “You hurt right now, Empress. Your love isn’t diluted anymore. It’s divided—between the hunter and Death.”
Somewhere in this lair, Aric fought tirelessly for me. I did love him. As I loved Jack.
“It’s complicated.” My answer of the month.
“You broke our rules by bringing Death here. But I’m glad you did. Now we have two beloved to use against you. Perhaps we should take them alive.” Vincent’s gaze went blank, his irises turning black.
“You’re seeing through your carnates’ eyes right now.”
“We are.”
—Sieva, open your mind to me!—
Aric! I’m okay for now. Are you and Jack?
—Engaged at present.—
I’m with Vincent. Can’t find Selena or Violet.
—I’m coming for you soon. Hold tight.—
I can stall.
No answer.
Vincent’s eyes had cleared. “Have you remembered our history?”
I shook my aching head. “But when Death translates your chronicles, I’ll read all about it.”
“Our carnates are retrieving our stolen property from your horses as we speak.”
“From the Reaper’s armored mount?” I had to laugh. “All the best with that.” They had better hope they couldn’t catch that stallion. Thanatos bench pressed three eighty and made Bagger Spam with his hooves. “Why are those chronicles so important to you?”
“Our earliest memories are of Father reading them to us, each night before we went to sleep.” Blood-drenched bedtime stories. “We’re sentimental.”
Sentimental? “Because of you and your sister, your dad is being digested right now.”
He nodded. “Today we loved our father. We loved our mother as we began these new incarnations.” Had she died in childbirth?
A suspicion arose. “Vincent, have you ever left this place?”
He blinked. “Why would we?”
At my disbelieving expression, he explained, “Our father bought the Shrine when our mother was pregnant with us—just in case his children would ring in a new game, and a new catastrophe. As soon as he found out we were twins, he knew the game was starting. We’ve been safe within here since before we were born.”
The twins had never felt the sun on their own skin?
He pointed toward a doorway. “In there.”
Again, I made the decision to go along with him.
Once we’d crossed the raised threshold, he shut the door behind him. Never taking his finger from the sensor, he locked us in with a combination I didn’t see. I was trapped with him?
He was trapped with me.
Come, Lover, touch . . .
He’d taken me to a sizable game room. Against one wall stood a fridge, a microwave station and sink beside it. A trashcan overflowed with frozen food packages and empty potato chip bags. Clothes were wadded up around it.
A hi-tech desk ran the length of another wall, covered with keyboards and video game controllers. Monitors hung above. Different video games had been paused mid-action.
In front of a cushy gamer’s chair sat a plate with a half-eaten Hot Pocket beside a can of Coke.
“So this is your dukedom. You sit in here and play?” While everyone else in the world was fighting for survival? How did the least deserving assholes on the planet score these digs?
“My supply of victims has gotten smaller and smaller.” Vincent sighed, as if embarrassed by the lackluster amount of carnage. “But now that you’re here, with your regeneration, you’ll be like a video game that never ends.”
There was a bed with twisted sheets. The twins slept in here, amid the bodies and stench. “Where is Violet?”
“She’s always close.”
“If you and your sister have Wonder Twin powers, why would you not go everywhere together?”
“Our talents are . . . evolving.” He seemed to think that was hilarious.