Married To The Shadow Lord

"Gabby"

I grimaced as I bowed my head and looked at the board. Nothing about the brilliant light bouncing off the polished marble surface lifted my spirits.

The beginning of another unremarkable summer day. I was playing chess in the game room while the grownups of the house were hiding away in the study and having a quiet talk.

Alone.

I turned around in my chair and turned my face away from the light. The warm rays may have given me a sunburn if I had been human-or, entirely human, as I thought.

I paused and considered reentering the beams to get some blistering flesh. It would at least be something intriguing. Something unique. Something more to ponder.

I resisted the uncontrollable sigh that was about to come out of my mouth by pressing my lips together. Father would undoubtedly hear since demons have excellent hearing. The last thing I wanted to do today was irritate him.

I didn't care most days. Today was unique. I, at least, hoped things were different today.

I was too close to my father to even hint at irritation, as tempting as it was to act in a way appropriate for my age. There were cruel repercussions for upsetting the leader of the Petrov Family.

When something moved, I turned to see a butterfly flitting around outside the large bay window. The flying bug with hues of yellow and purple made a smooth landing on the stone ledge just outside the glass.

I focused on what I was seeing and wondered what it might have been like to have wings. There was no purpose that I could see. Even the butterfly didn't make use of its ability to leave this barren area of land. The foolish insect at least got to breathe some fresh air.

There was a lovely day outside. A very stupidly gorgeous day with plenty of stupid sunlight and freshly blooming flowers.

They were also foolish.

In months, I had hardly stepped outside the foyer. My father grew more stern as the solstice approached. With every year that went by, things became worse.

On this very first day of summer, I became seven years old. For supernatural entities, the number seven had special significance. Even some of the shifter tribes, including witches and fairies, thought it had real authority.

Well, that's what I was instructed to do. I had never spoken to a witch before. also a fairy. Also a shifter. Or anybody who isn't a member of my father's Fortis demon clan.

Despite my lack of knowledge, I had optimism. I had been asking any deity who could have been listening for this birthday to be unique from the others. not much to note. For once, it was sufficient for it to be recognized, ideally outside.

Maybe I could have a piece of cake or a scoop of ice cream instead of being prohibited from playing in the yard? A sweet treat? I don't think it was too much to ask.

Gabby, stop it, my inner voice said. I despised that voice and how accurate it was most of the time.

I groaned again internally and switched my attention back to the chessboard. It was quite challenging to play a game of strategy against oneself. I had heard a thousand times that I lacked the discipline required for such tasks.

When I heard Father's baritone voice resounding throughout the house, I was almost ready to give up.

"AGabbya needs to go out now."

As I heard footsteps coming, my heart sprang into my throat. There it was. I held my breath while maintaining my focus on the board and if I hadn't overheard anything.

I shouldn't have been shocked when the security chief, rather than my father, arrived at the doorway. In this home, hope was a hazardous thing. I ought not to have fed the obstinate beast, I knew better.

A regular cue for me to pay attention is when my throat clears. I swung around to face Uncle Gregor.

The muscular, towering man stood calmly and extended his hand. He had the characteristic night-black hair of the Fortis class of demons. His hair was pulled back, revealing an angry brow. His identical to my father's coal-black eyes were too big for his face.

I wouldn't describe him as unattractive. His silent demeanor was really overwhelming and quite terrifying. My hero was him.

I didn't resemble either my father or my uncle. I had inherited both my mother's naval eyes and her golden hair. Although I had never met the lady, I had been informed that I resembled her perfectly.

If I had modeled my life after the men in my family, it could have been simpler for me. If I had a different father, it undoubtedly would have been simpler.

Imagining what it would be like if Gregor had been my sire, I twitched my fingers. He didn't say much, but he had never been intentionally unpleasant to me.

Gregor waited while I daydreamed since he knew I didn't fear him and would finally obey his silent order. I have always. Eventually.

When dealing with me, he exercised considerably more control than his brother ever did. The evidence for this might be found in Gregor's calm patience as he stood there with his arm bridging the gap between us.

He seemed more militaristic than security in his black attire. On his right hip, he had his beloved pistol holstered, and his belt was decorated with many knives.

It had the appearance of something a frontiersman could wear. Except for the grenades and other little explosives that are concealed from view.

But what caught my attention were the two katanas fastened on his back. They were tightly held in each of Gregor's hands as he rushed as quickly as lightning. I had seen him use those swords to do hideous acts on the mannequins used for sparring.

I was envious of them because I wanted to learn that talent. Any talent will do. Any talent that would make my father look at me other than with contempt.

In any case, I hurried over to Gregor and let his big hand take mine. He kept my gaze for a little while without revealing anything. He turned and took me out of the gaming room without saying a word.

We exited the rear door after passing past the modern kitchen. Had Father bought me anything outdoorsy? I was hoping for a swing set.

My eyes began to moisten from the light's intensity. I struggled to blink as I desperately tried to get the liquid to go. I didn't want to seem to be in tears. It was a weakness to cry.

I turned my head around to survey the surroundings. Nothing had changed. For a birthday supper, there are no fixed tables on the terrace. Nothing wrapped. Zero balloons. not a single card.

Nothing.

Perhaps birthdays in real life were different from what I had seen on television.

I remained steadfast even when the skin on my face constricted. Tears demonstrated weakness. Father hated being exposed. I stopped crying when I learned that lesson two years ago.

Gregor said that one could choose one's mentality. Gabby, decided not to be a victim, he had advised. It was advice that was repeating over and over in my thoughts right now.

I have the option to see this walk as a gift. The closest thing to a gift I'd ever gotten was a brief period of illusory freedom. So I continued to walk with a proud attitude and in step with my uncle.

We strolled through what I thought of as the yard and into the wide area behind the substantial stone mansion. We climbed the hill to have a better view of the valleys and dips below from where the largest tree on the property stood proudly. It represented the apex of the estate.

We moved beyond the large oak and into the rear field, which I was not allowed to go into. My stomach sank. At the further end of this pasture stood The Primus Crossing.

I'd avoided looking at the gateway out of concern for the punishment I'd get if discovered. The majority of people who resided there also remained away from it. Fortunately, progress in technology made it possible for them to see activity from a distance.

Around the world, several crossings served as entranceways to regions where few people could survive. They needed to be watched as a result.

Since we were the most powerful species living in the Earth Realm, each had its own Gatekeeper, the majority of whom were once demons. The individuals picked as the heirs of the previous crosses had been transformed by marriages, alliances, and breeding with species other than our own. Father thought it was a mockery.

It struck me as strange that those with magic, particularly demons, were often portrayed as the villains in human movies and novels, even though they were the only thing standing between servitude and those who would and could consider people as nothing more than animals of burden.

Or the terrible food.

We were the Earth Realm's guardians. If Father received a thank-you note for his efforts, he would not be quite so irritable. I laughed as I imagined Fabian Petrov accepting a handwritten note of thanks from a little youngster.

"Shh," Gregor whispered to me.

My attention was drawn back to where we were going by his reprimand.

The tree line descended into a long depression as Gregor and I walked through the backland. This place was known as Deadman's Hollow by the locals. Or even Deadman's Holler, with their distinctive Kentucky accent.

I had previously tried to imitate the accent. I received two bleeding lips and one severe smack to the face as a result.

Large oak trees that were bending over the little ravine within the depression to form a tunnel of shadow seemed to defy gravity. In sharp contrast to the oppressive July heat that was resting on the field where we were standing, cool air rushed out from the dark corridor.

I had never previously been let to leave the home so far, so I questioned Father's decision. My exhilaration soon gave way to apprehension. He never acted irrationally, and he particularly enjoyed imparting lessons that could only be learned the hard way.

As we drew nearer, Gregor stopped us about 10 yards apart. I have goosebumps all over my body.

"Lie down, Gabby. Move only after receiving authorization.

I scowled at Gregor's strange order and looked up into his immutably stern face. His eyes sparked with something, but I was too young to get the message. He gave my hand a brief squeeze before letting go and walking away.

The wind came up as I was about to ask him why we were here, diverting my attention back to the crossing's entrance. There was something in the tube. I sensed the presence of a soul, yet I couldn't see what it was.

I searched out the danger and assessed it as I had been instructed, using what little magic a small child of my age could muster. When I bumped into something strange but not particularly menacing, I was taken aback. Instead of the menace I had anticipated, I felt... curiosity.

and strength. As much power as Father had simmered within and around the body where it was kept. This being's power was magnetic, as opposed to Father's magic, which often felt as unpleasant as his moods. I felt drawn to it. In this situation, I want a closer look or feel.

I closed my eyes and concentrated as I couldn't see through the crossing. It was perilous for any Other to hold onto so much energy. I examined the soul again, as gently as I could. I felt nothing bad.

Gregor could also sense him or her if I could. It would be a sign of danger if my uncle was pondering drawing his katanas. I gasped and opened my eyes to see his response. A few feet inside the crossing, I was standing.

How did I move that quickly?

To draw in oxygen, I had to struggle against the frigid pressure of the void between worlds. My ears started to ring loudly. Water began to pool, burning my eyes. I tried to get one of my senses to work by wiping the delicate skin with my knuckles.

My body was jerked backward before I could shout for my uncle. The breath I had battled so hard to get left my lungs as I fell flat on my back.

One hand was reaching towards me as my father's gloomy visage appeared overhead. His expensive cufflink, which seemed out of place in this rural setting, drew my eye. My hands were on his wrist. He swatted them aside while maintaining his hand moving slowly in the direction of my chest. I nearly considered trying to stop him with a dare.

His demonic sorcery grabbed my developing soul from inside my ribcage. He tugged and twisted it till just half of it remained in my trunk and the other half was in front of my face. Father's face was cast in a soft golden glow of clear light, highlighting those obsidian eyes that I so desperately wanted to despise.

Saying, "You want this back, AGabbya?"

Despite my extreme dread, I nodded firmly. I was still having trouble breathing.

Then you need to have followed Gregor's instructions. You entered the crossing as well as moving against the rules. Without my consent."

I didn't intend to. I never made a deliberate effort to move my feet. I spent too much time trying to manage my power. I didn't even realize Father was pursuing us outside.

"You will either learn or you will die, foolish child."

I froze in fear as I regarded him. They weren't made hastily by Fabian.

My face was on the verge of being covered in tears. I forced my eyes to close as his look pierced mine and I forced forceful blinks. He took a whole minute to restore my spirit to its place of safety. I sank with relief.

I only understood what he had given me during those few moments it took for my soul to calm down. Despite being just seven, I was no imbecile.

Father just forfeited a golden ticket. Learn was such an ambiguous instruction that it may have been interpreted as an all-inclusive input.

My subconscious has just made a significant decision in terms of mindset.

The order became ingrained in my entire being throughout the time it took for Jesus to restore my soul. Every cell and neuron went into overdrive, obedient, as he had instructed me.

Learn or Die

Learn or Die

Learn.

Or die.

I chose to learn.

Gabby

Fourteen years later ...

To dodge the large, meaty fist that was aimed at my jaw, I jerked back with my head. I somehow just managed to get my tongue snipped. If he did the same move again, I'd be able to avoid it.

Damn. That was painful. Earlier, the bastard had been being reserved. Fortunately, I had learned from my many failures and was better prepared than before.

I lowered my eyes. My heartbeat became calmer as I took a big breath. If I wanted to survive this with only minor wounds, I had to focus. I had a feeling Uncle Gregor would not allow me to tap out this time.

Fuckhead.

My eyes popped open at the gentle sound of a boot turning on the floor. I sank low and missed his repeated swings. He was aware that I didn't make the same error twice, but he still made sure by testing me. Always.

His meticulousness was getting on my last freaking nerve, and these tests were starting to happen every day lately.

My cheek was kissed by a breeze. Did he truly believe I'd make a mistake again? G-man was becoming off-balance. I thought of punching him in the throat, but he was too cunning to be fooled by the blows. I would have to come near enough to touch his neck.

I calculated my chances of getting close enough to strike while keeping in mind that retaliation would never be worthwhile as I inspected the exposed skin over his carotid. I ducked once more and looked for a different part of his body to attack.

I managed to spin just out of reach as he surged forward. The more he attacked me, the more I considered our problematic family dynamics and how hard he was hitting me. A good example is when my nose was only a hair away from the knuckles.

My interactions with my uncle-and his fists-could best be described as complex. Unfortunately, my relationship with the male delivering me my current smackdown was far stronger than my one with my sire.

Uncle Gregor was somewhat lower on my list of He Who Deserves a Bitchslap than my father since, unlike my father, he had never tried to shoot my ass.

Although it might be a stretch to call it murder, what do you describe the moment when your soul is torn from your body?

I was struck out cold by two fast blows to the area just below my ribcage. He backed off after I retaliated with a knee to the stomach. absolute child's play.

The movement of Gregor's body occurred more quickly than the eye could follow. He was the clan's expert in managing his speed and movement. In front of anyone who was not the Other, slow and controlled were necessary.

In contrast to Father, Fabian was the one who always informed me that most people in this world were unable to handle anything even vaguely magical. They have an innate fear of anything seen as unique.

I was homeschooled and never allowed to leave the farm by Fabian because of this. He questioned my ability to control my gifts in front of the demeaning Homo sapiens.

He was the picture of authority as Dominus, head of the biggest demon clan in the Earth Realm. He needed to be able to freely move around people. He also can defend himself with a simple flick of the wrist. I possessed only a small portion of his might because my mother had been a human.

He repeatedly demonstrated to me how inadequate I was, and I despised him for it. But occasionally, especially when I saw him glancing at me with eyes that occasionally resembled wariness, I questioned which of us required the confirmation.

I wasn't helpless.

I did a harder backhandspring than I should have at the slightest mention of that filthy little phrase. To avoid getting one of my boots on his chin, Gregor had to pause.

I knew from away that the win would be fleeting.

I realized my mistake as I tried to fix myself. My chances of dealing with a beating were being ruined by the ruminations in my thoughts. I had overcorrected while distracted. He intended to hold me accountable as well.

I was struck in the temple by the Greg-a-nator once more, this time with a flawless roundhouse kick. He was able to swing a leg before I could block it because I lost focus and backed up too much.

My body was dropping on the exercise mat in free fall. At least my soul was still inside of me. A few minutes of unconsciousness were vastly preferable.

Without the soul, a being could not survive. Although your heart may be beating, you are not truly alive. You're just a shell. Daddy Dearest taught me that the body is merely the soul's home and is meaningless apart from the spirit.

With a soul firmly in his fist, he could issue an order, and the body would carry it out without question-apart from the command itself, which was input and processed by the brain's network of neurons.

It's like turning someone into a computer, he said.

I compared it to becoming a zombie.

I'll never forget how it felt to be the victim of the first furatus-the demon term for snatching a soul from a body that doesn't want it. I was altered by it. Additionally, it provided me something priceless, something the Dominus would never permit me to even aspire for.

Leverage.

Strange that when my world went black and Gregor stood above me shaking his head in disapproval, my mind would decide to think back on that particular day.

I got hit in the face with ice-cold water, which jolted me out of my reverie. Similarly, this had become ingrained in my experience to the point where I was no longer startled when the liquid splashed into my mouth and nose.

You do realize that, girl?

It was more difficult to pry open my thick eyelids than to raise a Volkswagen. I scratched my temples, certain that a forty-ton freight train had plowed into me.

Mateus, one of the elite troops who also resided in the manor, received the bucket from Gregor. My former sparring partner was my age. He was the only creature I considered a friend. I gave them each a glare.

"Gregor, you could have killed me."

I sat up and dragged myself to my feet after the tilt-a-world in my mind stopped.

"Gabby, don't let your guard down."

"G, I'm serious!"

"As am I. You are a half-demon, do you need me to tell you that? Which makes you very difficult to kill.

Yes, but...

Nothing but. You let your guard down. You've never before misplaced it. I trust you understand the consequences of doing so. You did well to create some distance between us, but as soon as you turned around, you ought to have been alert and prepared for the next assault.

"Of course, G. I muttered, lowering my guard, and offered a clumsy salute.

I wasn't trying to be ironic. I would now always be on watch. I never made another serious error after the first one. I regretfully made a shitload of new errors. I should have been named Calamity, Gregor would frequently say.

And stop addressing me as G. It's not my name; it's a letter.

After grinning and chuckling at me, Mateus hurriedly looked away when Gregor turned to face him.

Mateus, don't encourage her. She already poses a threat.

Mateus laughed once again as I yelled at him behind his back.

"Do you have to always be so...you?" Gregor grumbled.

Why must you always be such a jerk? I responded while trying to ignore the pain under my ribs. The only weapon I found challenging to learn how to block was words. Why was being me such a problem?

A lot.

"AGabbya, watch your language."

When I heard my father's voice, I tightened up. In recent months, I had only occasionally seen him. He had been going back and forth to the Otherland and other crossings, taking care of whatever needed to be taken care of. I made it my mission to be present whenever he was home.

I could only go as far as this building without breaking any laws because it was on the other side of the property. Additionally, I used to go there for what I thought of as therapy, pummeling the men who worked for my father.

Because I was supposedly dangerous to them, women were never allowed to spar with me. My greatest source of pride came from that. Of course, there weren't many things in my life that I could feel this way about.

Mateus stood up straight like a good soldier boy. Shortly after stealing my virginity while we were both seventeen, he started becoming unusually cautious around Fabian. He didn't need to bother. Who I boinked didn't matter to Fabian one bit.

The way Gregor responded was characteristic of him. He did nothing more than nod his head in his brother's direction.

"I'm sorry, Dad." Not me. I was speaking the scripted phrase out of habit.

He disregarded my apology and carefully made a lap around the room with his hands tucked in his pockets. In the training area, his light grey three-piece suit and expensive polished shoes stood out as being inappropriate.

Fabian didn't appear to be a day older than 35. Never would his thick, dark hair become grey. Barring any harmful spells the witches or fairies could conjure, his body would continue to be in good shape and be powerful.

One of the numerous benefits of being a demon was having attractiveness and eternal youth. That combined with any Fortis' high sex desire made for an alluring combination. Mateus claims that this is true, at least for the human chicks.

Fabian undoubtedly received some female interest. I believed my mother had succumbed to it. I'm grateful that he kept his sexual life hidden from me. Already, my upbringing had been severely flawed.

I was following his movements because I had spent years trying to identify the greatest threat in space. He moved slowly, studying the many weapons displayed on the walls as if they were artifacts in a museum. No weapons were required for the father. The most lethal weapon of all was him.

No matter if the mother was a human or an Other, males of our race have always been stronger than females. Who knew there could be sexism in the genetic code? What a letdown I must have felt on the delivery table.

Mateus, I want to have a private conversation with Gregor and AGabbya.

The young man gave his Dominus a bow and then turned to leave, giving me a fleeting glance. On the concrete floor, fifteen footsteps could be heard. The time between the door's opening and shutting clicks was 4.2 seconds.

Sometimes, as it has done since birth, my brain kept note of the unimportant details. Anything that Dad thought was pointless, he detested.

"Status?" Fabian questioned as he carefully examined an arrow tip he had taken out of one of the numerous quivers.

Gregor looked me over while crossing his arms. Why was the scary uncle staring at me?

"Excellent memory. Exceptional accuracy was achieved with each weapon tested, notably the bow. more than capable in hand-to-hand combat. good equilibrium. Strong. Quick. likes to use the C-4 to destroy stuff. swears profusely, but you were already aware of it.

I tightly pursed my lips to keep my grin hidden. Never before had I received such adulation. I began hand-to-hand training not long after I turned seven. I mastered the bow, several throwing stars, and even the long spears by the time I was fourteen.

Although no one said it, I was a natural. The warriors didn't give each other high fives.

Gregor had until this year refused to allow me to train with a blade, reasoning that I would be better off learning evasive techniques and becoming proficient with weapons engaged from a distance. I was female and so smaller and weaker, so I knew that was why. Years of pleading later, he gave in.

"So, nothing new?" you ask. Gabriel scowled.

Both yes and no. She has long had a preference for short swords. She has an odd fondness for katanas. Nearly as excellent with them as I am. She will soon surpass me.

My father was interested in that. Less than a week after receiving the katanas, I had spent almost all of my free time learning how to utilize them.

They came from Gregor as an early birthday gift. They weren't, but I pretended they were since he had given me the weapons a few days earlier and my 21st birthday was the following day. Girls could have dreams.

Incredulous, Fabian exclaimed, "You're kidding."

With his dual blades, my uncle had been practicing his techniques for centuries. Only a few days had passed since I began exercising with them. To be fair, ever since I was old enough to consider it, I had been observing and mentally compiling what he could accomplish with the weapons.

I never laugh.

Gregory was accurate. He was utterly without humor. I was more interested in my father's question's motivation. He wasn't one for idle conversation or checking in on me for any other reason than to chastise me or give me instructions.

"Father-"

"Quiet. Gregor: "Is she ready?"

"I think she is,"

Prepared for what? I queried.

To carry out your obligation to your kin, Fabian retorted.

I released the breath I'd been holding without even realizing it. It wasn't all that horrible. Fabian was curious as to how I would fare in a fight. I hadn't been outperformed by men with decades of training and actual fighting experience in over a year, except for my sparring sessions with Gregor.

In terms of gender roles and abilities, I was aware that I was an outlier. But truly, nobody seemed surprised given who my father was.

The clan's demons all acquired fighting skills. It made sure that we could control our behavior and deal with anyone trying to enter or depart the Otherland without authorization. Everyone has to go through training.

A lot of the other factions, many of which had the potential to become enemies, saw our might as we increased our force. This was especially true for those who were physically able to watch over the other crossings.

Only the most ferocious of animals guarded each passage in the Earth Realm. Their responsibility was to make sure there was no unauthorized traveling. On the opposite side of each crossing, some Gatekeepers had the same goal.

Only a select few immortals had the skills-or the guts-to cross between realms without being noticed. Everyone was concerned about the outcomes, whether they would come from the Gatekeeper or the crossing itself.

Supernatural creatures born in the Earth Realm might enter the Otherland very easily. Many were captivated by the abilities of what effectively served as portals to the lands where magic is said to have originated. There, we would be more powerful.

Unfortunately, very few were able to return. It was practically certain to be a one-way excursion. Only extremely powerful individuals, like my father and uncle, could withstand the depletion during the return trip to the Earth Realm.

None of that was a concern for me. My responsibility was to acquire the skills to defend the clan if necessary. Why, however, did my stomach still feel uneasy when everything made sense?

"Gregor, on second thought, I'd like to speak with my daughter privately."

If you'd like, I'd be pleased to explain everything.

"No."

Gregor paused. Fabian kept staring at his younger sibling till he finally averted them.

It was the largest act of defiance my uncle had ever put on. My stomach began to bubble as acid slowly burned its way up my esophagus.

"Very good. When you two are through, Gabby, come find me.

I smiled at Gregor and gave him a nod while thinking about my lip. When Fabian Petrov wanted to be alone with me, bad things happened.

"Gabby"

"You have an important day coming up tomorrow."

My hairline was just beyond my eyebrows. El Padre remembered my birthday? It must be close to the end of the planet. I refrained from speaking out of fear for what his views could be.

You will go to the crossing as you have for the past fourteen years.

I shifted my weight and concentrated on the mat that was under my feet. I didn't enjoy remembering my yearly journey to that godforsaken location. It was still unclear why he dragged me there. Every year came to an end the same way: with me on the ground and my father punishingly holding my soul in his grasp.

I want you to enter this time.

I quickly focused on him.

You expect me to voluntarily cross the street?

Every birthday was a carbon copy of the previous one. Always waiting was the same soul. At times, there were also others, but there was always just one. The need to reach out and touch someone's spirit grew with each visit. Fortunately, I had never gotten close enough to try it.

My talents might have come into contact with what I could only surmise was a Shadow demon, but our souls had never actually met. We had never gotten close enough for me to act on my cravings, but I had read that soul just as firmly as it had read mine.

Even if we had been in range, I would need to suppress those urges. It was acceptable to read someone's soul with magic, but this was usually only done at first meetings. But Others thought touching soul to soul to be incredibly intimate. To do so with a stranger was impolite, to say nothing of taboo.

As I did, using my powers, it was like shaking hands. soul-to-soul contact? That was more akin to shaking hands with someone while being completely exposed-a significant faux pas in all cultures.

Every time I used my powers to reach out and inspect, I unintentionally found myself inside the dreadful tunnel. I have previously made two attempts to avoid scanning. I utterly failed both times.

It seemed as though I couldn't help but reach out to the entity on the other end. When my powers passed over that soul, something happened, and I felt myself being pulled in its direction. Not far enough to enter the Otherland directly, but far enough to incur my father's displeasure.

Whoever it was that my powers kept reaching for, I'd never had a chance to see them. I was determined to catch sight of it tomorrow.

When I got knocked on my ass harder than normal last year and the entity slowly breathed a harsh explanation, I could feel their amusement. Even when my Daddy the Dominus was torturing me, I was able to raise one hand toward the crossing and slowly stretch my longest digit.

I knew I had accomplished something amazing when Fabian lost concentration and Gregor snorted in surprise. It remains the only time I have ever heard my uncle admit that he is capable of laughing. Father fractured the problematic finger, but I didn't feel bad about it. The traditional flipping-the-bird move.

You won't just enter. The deep voice that pierced through my daydream said, "I want you to cross over.

A sharp chill ran up my spine, keeping me motionless as a statue. For demons, crossing across was the simple part. I wasn't sure if I had the strength to return.

Reject that. Returning was probably not an option. As far as I knew, no cambion ever had. Those with a mixture of demon and human DNA either perished while entering or were harmed by the portal's magic when returning.

I finally said, "I don't understand," as my tongue was getting heavier. My instinct to either fight or flee was activated, making my entire body tense.

"You don't have to comprehend. You will cross over tomorrow.

Are you putting my abilities to the test? Or have I murdered? My internal voice yelled.

"No. You can endure it because you are resilient.

He seemed to be persuaded. I couldn't rely on it. He was not someone I would ever allow myself to trust.

"What do I do when I get over there?"

I was committed to getting across. I wasn't going to give up after this. I wouldn't let Fabian's games destroy me.

You are being sent to Dusk. We decided that you would cross at the age of 28. He needs you now because of something.

My jaw moved back and forth before opening again. That statement included far too many ideas for me to process. What exactly would the Shadow Lord want with me is the question.

Why would Dusk require my services at the age of twenty-eight? or at all?

Fabian raised a hand as if shooing a bothersome bug away. "You were a prerequisite for a favor I requested of him 20 years ago. It doesn't matter.

My skin began to prickle strangely, and then a wave of dizzying feeling swept over me. My mouth ached as my face tensed. I was a requirement of a bargain they'd struck, but why should it matter?

My heart raced. My internal temperature increased as I continued to consider his disclosure.

I had merely served as money, a cost to be incurred to obtain anything Fabian desired from his fellow Gatekeeper. My father didn't have the decency to even imply it.

"Dusk needs your skill set to complete a task. You'll finish it without complaining or making any effort to go back. A small army will block the Primus Crossing to prevent you from sneaking back through. Up until I am certain that you have performed your duties to Dusk's satisfaction, I will station more guards.

It was a bad idea to block the road leading home. He undoubtedly saw it as my issue more than his, though.

You're lending me out, then? on a mission, perhaps?" What kind of mission would have been planned twenty years ago, only the Lord knows.

"In a sense."

I broadened my stance and crossed my arms. Before I asked my next query, I received a message that I needed to prepare for impact.

What's the assignment?

As it frequently did when he was going to unleash a bomb directly on someone's head, his tongue ran across his teeth. I didn't move, wishing for my body to relax. My level of worry was getting close to Defcon 1.

Father was more adept at overcoming fear than any hound dog. The only reasons I wasn't quaking in my boots were my years of experience and awareness of what exhibiting fear would get me.

"That is up to him to reveal. You must follow his instructions exactly. AGabbya, anything.

That instruction did not sit well with me. Anything might be a lengthy and overwhelming list.

How long are you anticipating that I will remain on the other side? I grit my teeth.

"Indefinitely."

My lungs expanded with oxygen, giving me a gentle breath of air to calm my racing heartbeat.

I recited, "Indefinitely," unable to contain the challenge in my voice. I detested his capacity to reveal my frailty and to so effortlessly elicit a response. It was the worst furatus he had ever put me under.

I would gain knowledge from this. The next time, I'd be able to control my wrath while speaking. The furatus directive's magic had some irksome quirks, but I was confident that if we had this talk again, I would be able to manage my tone.

"Not that it matters, but I'll tell you our deal was for you to spend the rest of your life in his service in the Shadowlands when you finished your training. You are aware that there is typically just one way out of a demon's servitude. Given the nature of your skills, I doubt Dusk will release you voluntarily since he has never done so.

It nearly sounded complimentary.

"I don't think you'll use that doorway to return. Not unless... well, unless you stole his heart. or his skull. whichever suits you best. That's probably your best chance of escaping.

My uneven blinking represented the staggered movements of my intellect. I think I appeared to be having a seizure. I had the impression of having one.

I paused to consider his offer since I wasn't sure I had understood him right. Any immortal would truly die if their head or heart were removed.

My gosh. Fabian was sincere. If I wanted to have a chance to return to the Earth Realm, he expected me to be a willing assassin. I had no idea he was nuts. Yes, a tyrant, but this was just insane.

He was a beast, Dusk. an efficient murderer. He was a nightmare come true. Nobody bothered him. Based only on rumors, he might be the only living thing Fortis demons feared more than my father.

Only the insects around my house had I ever killed anything else. When I was younger, I practiced shooting my BB gun at wasps. Near me, spiders had no chance of surviving. Oh, and I shot an arrow at a snake I'd observed creeping toward the water, killing it.

I was sickened by it and vowed never to murder another animal. Training dummies weren't sentient individuals, but I was good at dismembering them.

Can I fight? Yes. Could I murder? I was technically capable. However, the concerned sovereign was out of the question. In addition, I received defense and subjugation training. I shouldn't kill a freaking Shadow monster by myself.

I tightened my fists. I was being forced by my father to choose between a foolish effort at escape and an eternity in the Otherland. I was certain that the only way out of a life of servitude under Dusk would result in my death rather than his.

The roughest and fiercest of the lot became boss in the Shadowlands, the area of the Otherland connected to the Primus Crossing. It wasn't a position that came with birth.

Dusk had toiled and died to get where he was. He probably had to keep killing to stay in charge. He was well-known for his lack of morality and propensity for violence. He was someone who wasn't fucked with.

With all the issues the last Shadow Lord had created, having Dusk serve as the Gatekeeper on the other side ought to have made Fabian's job easier.

So why did Father tempt me by having the man die? He didn't even seem to want me to come back. He most likely believed that I wouldn't bother to attempt. Father would get rid of me whether I was serving him or killing myself.

"AGabbya, nothing to say? You don't usually act that obediently. Perhaps there is hope for you.

I bit my cheeks on the sides. I could have talked for hours, but I didn't want to risk getting beat up if I had to go to the Otherland the next day. I would need every ounce of strength I had. He also realized it.

We kept looking at each other. We had been at odds for twenty-one years. He disliked me, I knew that. He needed to understand how I felt about him.

Fabian stepped up close and then took a small object out of his pocket. Gods, it was so tempting to get a lick in.

"Here."

He dropped a tiny metal container into the palm I had extended. It had the appearance of an oval flash drive.

"Bring this along. It's conceivable that life in the Otherland won't be particularly enjoyable. It may also be quite hazardous. If you believe you are in imminent danger and cannot leave, use this.

The question "What is it?"

"A strong sedative and cyanide combination is within. It's enough to render a Fortis demon unconscious. It ought to be sufficient to kill a halfling. If taken promptly, it will enable you to have no pain for a considerable amount of time. You've probably guessed from who it's for that the work won't be simple. It is best to always be ready because Dusk has adversaries. There is no use in suffering needlessly.

He gave off the impression that he genuinely cared.

"Hold hold to it if you happen to succeed and you survive the task. You can decide to make an effort to go back home. I suppose they'll want to make sure you've died if you're found attacking the Shadow Lord-after torturing you, of course. You can avoid such suffering at their hands by doing this.

"You're assuming I'll pursue him," I said.

"You won't be able to help yourself, I assume. Simply wait until you encounter him. He laughed, "I've been tempted to kill him for years.

My emotional defenses were pierced by his casual jest like a bullet through flesh. He spoke in a light-hearted manner as if we were chatting about a bothersome cousin.

I had already survived a lot of bad things, so I was well-prepared for many more. Nothing had made me aware of this.

He didn't give me the chance to go back. If I didn't manage to slay the Shadow Lord and wanted to return to this facility, he wasn't even offering me the chance to live.

The sorrow of understanding that my father wanted me to be gone for good would have been less unpleasant with a dagger to the heart. I had spent the last 10 years developing my warrior's talents on the assumption that even if he detested me, I was still helpful to him.

My eyelids ached. Before I did something truly dumb, I had to get away from Fabian Petrov. Before I told him he was going to injure me, I would kill myself.

Papa's tiny pillbox of death was enclosed by my fingers as I tucked it away in my pocket.

I spoke softly and asked for permission to leave, proud that my voice was hardly wavering at all.

He wasn't angry, as evidenced by the fact that his pupils dilated rather than contracted. That made me a part of the group since I had enough rage to confront half of his army. To go with the mixture of medications in my pocket, the universe has sent me another gift. I'm having a Fucking Birthday.

"Sure, that. Gregor can meet with you and go over the crucial information you need to be aware of before entering. Make sure to inquire about the armory's permitted weapons.

Allowable, huh? My tongue felt bitter as the words moved across it.

I was supposed to inquire as to which weapons I could use to take my own life, which is exactly where I was going. I didn't think I'd enjoy a life of serving the Shadows, and I thought I might be foolish enough to try to escape by fighting my way back.

He said seriously, "I urge you to get moving. There is not much time left for packing.

I curtly nodded and sprang to my feet. My face remained unmoving, and my body stayed rigid. I quickly wiped away the treacherous tear that had managed to escape as soon as I left the building. That would be the final tear ever cried for that jerk.

Unbelievable. He only needed me to take the tiny medicine in my pocket to relieve him of his burden. Why not simply make me do it right now? Oh, indeed, the honest Fabian Petrov never broke his word when he made a deal with Dusk. It was presumably bound by magic in any case, so he would feel obligated to fulfill his end of the bargain.

On my way back to the manor, I walked right by the practice dummies. I had to wait before going to find my uncle. I pulled a knife out of my belt and stabbed one in the face without pausing or thinking.

Unexpectedly, it was the doll I'd given the name Gabe.