The Gemini Paradox (The Zodiac Book 3) Read online

  Contents

  Title

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Rate and Review

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

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  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

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  Chapter 1 of Cancer's Curse

  The Gemini Paradox

  Book 3 of The Zodiac Series

  Paul Sating

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any situations or similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Copyright © 2020 Paul Sating

  All rights reserved.

  No parts of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Editor: Cindy Niespodzianski

  Cover Design: Jake at jcalebdesign.com

  ISBN-13: 978-1-7322617-6-1

  To Adam Burke. You are a warrior. Never forget. Thank you for helping me believe in me!

  Your review is important!

  If you enjoyed this book when you've finished, I would appreciate getting a review from you.

  Reviews not only help other readers find something they might like, but they help me as an author. Your reviews are important to me because they allow me to see what readers like you enjoyed about the book and what I could have done better.

  Thank you to each and every one of you who takes the time to leave a review!

  1 - Underworld, Fifth Circle

  One Month after Taurus

  I was out of shape. Overindulgence will do that, even to an immortal.

  "Come on!" Ralrek shouted over his shoulder.

  Of course, good looking and strong in his Fire magic, Ralrek was also now in far better shape. I ignored the fact that he was probably making better lifestyle decisions for himself than I was.

  Than I had been.

  "I am," I said, snapping in the same ugly tone he used for everyone below him, which I think included everyone not named Lucifer.

  That thought led to another incubus, my hefty best friend and just how far behind he would be if he were here instead of back in the Eighth Circle. I missed Bilba and wondered how he was doing. After I caught the criminal we were chasing, maybe I would talk to the Council about allowing me a few days to go back to the Eighth and check on him. If his mother was mistreating him, I'd …

  "Hurry then!"

  Ralrek's long legs, courtesy of his nearly six and a half foot frame, stretched and he pulled away.

  Selth Thulmox rounded the building at the next intersection, into a narrow alley that dead-ended at a monstrous trash heap hiding a forty-foot fence. He wouldn't know that, since he wasn't from the Fifth Circle. This was perfect, because I was so tired of chasing him through our streets and parks. Daily sessions at the gym were in my immediate future, starting tomorrow.

  "I'm right behind you," I shouted between my heavy breaths. Ralrek was never going to let me live this down.

  Selth Thulmox was a demon from the Ninth Circle of the Underworld—which I prefer to call Hell, because it is less cumbersome and I'm lazy—who had somehow slipped through an open gateway into our own Fifth Circle. The Third Council tasked Ralrek and I to find, retrieve, and return Selth to his home because, Lucifer knew, traveling to other Circles was such an egregious crime in the eye's of our rulers—easily rivaling theft and murder, I guess, because they'd never shown a repugnance to those types of actions.

  At least this most recent task was a distraction from the joyful tedium of my routine at The Book Abyss, my full-time job. Unlike that job, this one, like all Council work, paid well and coin talks in the Underworld. Yes, I feel dirty depriving demons of things like freedom of movement, but I'm only one demon in an Underworld full of them. I cannot change any policies, no matter how strict they are. No matter how I wished I could.

  Ralrek was around the corner first because he hadn't spent the last month of his life drinking too much and shoving crap food and treats into his mouth-hole. I tried to shout a warning, but I was lucky to be breathing right now. Very soon, he'd find out this alleyway would pen in Selth, and a cornered animal was always dangerous.

  I chose not to activate Creed until I was in the alley. The mysterious halberd, gifted to me by Aries the First during my first mission from the Council, still freaked out those who saw it in action. In its normal state, which it was now, it appeared to be nothing more than a thick stick hanging from a loop at my waist, four inches in circumference and made of petrified dark cherry. Sort of like a baton, just way cooler. It earns me odd looks from time to time, but not as odd as when I activate it. But to be fair, no one should expect such an unexceptional stick to grow to six feet in length and sprout two ax heads from its top and a long dagger at its bottom with the simple flick of the wrist. Guess you could say that I'm considerate like that.

  When I rounded the corner, Selth was already facing Ralrek, the realization he was trapped plain on his face. That's when I pulled the halberd out and activated it with a quick shake. It shot opened.

  A sensation like sandpaper rubbing across my neck was the first sign that Ralrek was casting a Fire spell. I don't know where it came from, but I think I have always been able to sense when someone was casting a spell if they were close enough. That ability though, my only one worth speaking of, was heightened when Aries gifted Creed to me.

  A chill accompanied the rough sensation. The surrounding air grew colder and the impression of smooth ice ran the length of my exposed skin. Selth was using Water magic, his Ability—one I'd just recently learned about from an Eighth Circle succubus who was on my naughty list.

  As the only demon without magical Abilities in the history of our species, I didn't have to worry about what my conjuring felt like to them. That gave me the upper hand in my fights because I did not waste time running through an incantation before getting into the fray. Selth didn't know that, but Ralrek did. And in our eight months of working together doing the Council's bidding, he had seen me do some strange things. Though I couldn't stand him as an incubus, we did work well as a team. Our combined skills only improved in the past month since we'd returned from a mission in the Eighth because we had to work through our differences and difficulties without Bilba around.

  This was our third mission this month, all minor needs of the Council. And in that time Ralrek and I had gotten better and better, nearing a level where we didn't have to verbalize anything in order to get the job done.

  "Leave me alone," Selth screeched, his voice wavering. He held up a single hand. "I—I don't want to have to hurt you."

  I jammed the dagger end of Creed into the brimstone, which split open with ease. I have learned that making a big scene with the halberd intimidated demons before they had a chance to process what they were seeing, giving me an additional advantage. Sensing magic before a spell was cast was great, but I was still susceptible to its effects. After spending the first six thousand years of my life getting my ass kicked by bulli
es and my best friend in training sessions, the last thing I wanted was to be someone's victim.

  "Cut off your spell and we'll take you back unharmed," I said firmly.

  His eyes switched between Ralrek and me, measuring us. No one released their spell, so I still had time to find a peaceful resolution.

  "You're trying to trick me," he said, but still held his spell. "I won't fall for it."

  Ralrek snorted. "Cut off your spell or I'll obliterate you."

  I groaned. First, it wasn't accurate. Demons could only injure each other while in the Underworld. Well, there was one exception I didn't want to think about at the moment. Second, I was struggling to de-escalate the situation and Ralrek was doing what he always did, acting arrogantly and trying to intimidate. It was almost as if he enjoyed confrontation. I guess that came naturally for a tall, dark, and handsome incubus who had life lay at their feet on a daily basis.

  "No one will obliterate anyone," I said, assuring Selth he would be allowed to walk out of this alley in one piece.

  He shifted his weight from foot to foot, his arm beginning to shake, from exertion or anxiety, I couldn't tell. "I don't want to go back. It's … a miserable place. Hopeless. I … I can't go back."

  "You can, and you will," Ralrek said, holding a growing fireball between his hands.

  I wished he held his tongue as much as his spell.

  "Let's all calm down, and talk this through," I said, eyeing Ralrek, who didn't even look my way. His eyes were locked on the demon at the end of the alley.

  I would have moved closer to Ralrek to afford me an opportunity to whisper my message, but that would give Selth an easier target too, to take both of us out with a single attack. If Water magic was good for anything, it was subduing your enemy. A treacherous succubus named Marijon—the one I didn't want to think about—taught me that a month ago. At the thought, an image of the beautiful brown skinned, hazel eyed traitor filled my mind. The aching in my chest had subdued a little. It wasn't like I had time to fall in love with her—that was ridiculous—but her betrayal hurt. Had I not—well, nevermind—but she was the cause behind Bilba and Ralrek nearly being seriously injured.

  Marijon used her Water magic more than once to encase our enemies in blocks of ice. That was all Selth had to do if I drifted too close to Ralrek. He wouldn't even need to injure us, he could stop us from interfering and be well away before the ice melted.

  "There's nothing to talk through," Selth responded, shaking his head. "I'm not going back."

  "Yes, you are!" Ralrek spent no more time with the situation after he spat his comment. His fireball roared to life, now bigger than his stupid head and crackling with heat.

  "No!" I yanked Creed's blade out of the brimstone and raced toward the end of the alley.

  In the blink of an eye, Ralrek had undone everything. A battle would start, one I didn't want. Fighting sucks. There are no winners in skirmishes, only lesser victims.

  I was halfway down the alley before Ralrek's fireball raced past me. Normally quick when I'm not out of shape, my ability to sense magic being heightened by Creed still gave me an extra burst. Normally I would be ahead of any spell. But Ralrek had already conjured. The distance between us and Selth was too far and did not help, nor did Ralrek's temperament and my inattentiveness. That gave the two casters an advantage.

  Even as the fireball raced down the alley, Selth countered it with a thick spray of water. The opposing spells collided a few feet in front of me. Water struck fire in a violent collision, shooting a massive cloud of steam into the sky.

  Ralrek was beginning a new spell and Selth was readying his own as they held their equal initial attacks. Exactly what I needed.

  I closed the final twenty feet well before either of these idiots got off their next spells. Tucking into a roll, I gripped Creed by the haft at the blade end as I came out of it. Careful to not slice his ankles with the double ax head, I swung. The petrified wood haft connected, swiping his legs from underneath him with a crack of wood on bone. Selth yelped as he fell. I was on him.

  "Don't move," I said, collapsing my halberd and shoving it back in the loop.

  "My ankles," Selth cried.

  He tried to wiggle free, and I pinned his arms to his side with my knees. "I said, don't move. We'll get you to the Council and they'll heal them. Let's just end this."

  He went limp. And then he cried. At first it was soft, restricted. As I tied his hands behind his back, it grew until he shook.

  "I don't want to go back. Please. Please don't make me."

  I finished tying him, full of regret at the ache in his voice. That ache didn't come from injured ankles, but from the prospects of his future. It was not hard to empathize with his plight. For nearly a year now, I'd been doing things I didn't want to do either, including this. Because living a life of mandatory service demanded it. His life might not be all that great in his own Circle and I hated the thought of being responsible for forcing him back to it, but I was also being paid handsomely to do this. I felt dirty. But if I didn't, I would have troubles of my own with the Council that would compound the public humiliation, travel restrictions, and stalking I already suffered through. Not abiding by their commands was not an option until I could make it one. That time was not now, unfortunately for Selth.

  Before Ralrek joined us, I lowered my head to Selth's ear. "I don't know what happened to you or why you don't want to go back, but you can't change this. Don't fight it."

  Selth cut off his crying, gulping down his sobs, and looked at me through watery eyes as if I'd spawned fourteen heads. "You have no idea what it's like, man ... what will happen to me back there."

  My lips pinched together. "No, I don't. And I'm sorry. But it gets a lot easier if you don't fight the Council. Let us take you, get home, and then figure out what you change."

  Selth looked away, hatred burning in his eyes.

  I was getting used to feeling gross.

  2 - Underworld, Fifth Circle

  Three days after Ralrek and I turned Selth Thulmox over to the Council, I did not feel any better about my actions. It was as slimy as selling an Underworld time share to a mortal. Looking in the mirror at the demon staring back at me caused serious questioning. They remained unanswered.

  Hell was a lot less fun when you couldn't stand your place in it. Old Towne, my new neighborhood, used to be a light in my life, especially on dark days. For the past few, even it and all its excellent drinking spots, lost their luster. I was grateful to be heading back to The Book Abyss to work a shift for the first time since arresting Selth. Dialphio, my boss and owner of the shop, would be the kick in the ass I needed.

  I hoped.

  Like the saying goes, shit in one hand and crush angels in the other, and see which one fills up first.

  Old Towne was quiet now because it was late and none of the restaurants were open. Even the most depressed demons, the ones who made me look like a ray of Hellfire, were not out on the streets after late-night martinis. The only movement at this point of the morning centered around the coffee stands. I stopped at my favorite one to get a double caramel latte—demons have a heavy-carb diet and no, it has nothing to do with the fact that it's a bikini barista, and more to do with its proximity to the bookstore. Hell's temperatures make iced coffee a necessity and I don't like my coffee warming up even before I get to work. And the double shot was because food and drinks in Hell are bland—something I only noticed after the fine experiences of eating in Seattle.

  Chilly Willy's was a shack of a building with one way in and out, and two windows on each side from which customers walked up and ordered. It was on the main pedestrian zone of the shopping district, blocked off to wagons and carriages by thick metal pillars at each end. When the restaurants and shops are open, the stand is busy, usually packed with incubi posing as coffee-thirsty patrons. But now, only employees walked the block and most didn't give the stand a second glance. The coffee is expensive, and they probably had grown numb to the nearly nude
baristas who worked it after seeing them day after day. I understood; I wouldn't support a business that had incubi who looked like Ralrek walking around in bikini briefs either. The image of that alone sent shivers through me.

  Thankfully, few incubi worked this stand. The staff was almost all succubi. Some gorgeous, some not so gorgeous, but friendly as heaven. And some right in the middle of them all, the sweet spot. That's where Gigaa Detrial fell.

  "Good morning, Zeke," Gigaa smiled. I tried not to look at her breasts, encased in a small bikini top. Everyone calls her Gigi. Sometimes I forget her name.

  I was thrilled to see her working; from the tip of her blond hair to the pumps she wore, Gigi was as visually sweet as her personality.

  "Hey, how are you doing?"

  She smiled like she'd just gotten away with something and shrugged nonchalantly. "Can't complain," she said as she made the drinks for a customer at the opposite window. She turned to hand him his coffee. Her butt, encased in a black bikini bottom, was harder to ignore than her top until I remembered this was Gigi.

  I smiled. Not in a creepy way, but in a way of relief, feeling partially like myself again. Those times were rare ever since I became Hell's first murderer.

  When Gigi served him and took his payment she asked me, "The normal?"

  "You got it. Thanks."

  She made my drink, and we chatted. Halfway through, she stopped and stared at me. "You okay?"

  "Yeah, why?" It was becoming far too easy to lie.

  Her thin shoulders slumped as she blew a wisp of blond away from her face. Her pale skin rivaled Bilba's in its pastiness, now coloring slightly. "I've been making your coffees since you moved to Old Towne, haven't I?"

  "Yes."

  "And in that time, you've been one of my nicest customers."