“Although, really, they are all originals, I suppose, considering the copies are her in every way that matters.” Erebus grinned as he stopped twenty feet away. “They feel what she feels and thinks what she thinks. My apologies, Immortal, but this match is lose-lose for you.”
Halo balled his hands as the three females fanned out behind the god.
Erebus spread his arms. “Hercules stole cattle from a three-bodied giant. I present you with your female, plus two. You must simply choose the Ophelia you wish to save. I’ll keep the others. And please, take your time. They are in relatively no danger from me...at the moment.”
He bit back a vile curse. Reveal nothing.
Oblivious to the god, the trio beckoned Halo closer, their motions perfectly timed.
Bile blistered his chest. Leave any version of his harpymph with Erebus—no! But if he chose wrong...
“The Bloodmor is truly a marvel.” Erebus wound through the females, tracing a fingertip over their throats as he passed. “It morphs select individuals into anyone or anything else completely. They become the other being in every way, and there’s no going back. Two versions of your female will become my pets. For a little while.” He tilted his head. “Will it help you to know I replicated her with my phantoms?”
Halo huffed his breaths. Must acquire that blade.
Erebus nuzzled an Ophelia’s cheek, and the sight sickened Halo. How much more must the harpymph despise the contact?
Get this done. “Release them so I may make my selection.”
“Perhaps it doesn’t matter to you, who lives and who dies,” Erebus continued, ignoring his command as he moved on to the next female. “They look the same. Feel the same.” He ran his nose up one’s neck. “Smell the same. I admit, I’m eager to train my pets to enjoy my particular...needs.”
Just like that, anhilla threatened, tearing through Halo’s control.
He tuned out the despised male and concentrated fully on the females. A thorough inspection revealed zero differences between them, both outside and in. They even carried the internal brand in the same location.
“You can’t tell?” they shrieked in unison. “Halo? I’m your gravita. How can you not pick me from a lineup of thousands?”
How was he supposed to do this? How could he not?
What did he know beyond any doubt? Hurting her pained him, and touching her never failed to affect him.
The trio glared as he strode forward. He stopped in front of the first, trembling as he cupped the side of her face. Her skin warmed...but it didn’t feel right. He blinked with realization. Not an exact copy, after all.
Calm and relief washed over him, the answer suddenly so clear. He touched the middle female. Wrong again. The third. Well, well. Wily Erebus.
Returning to the first harpy, he met the god’s cocky grin with one of his own. “This isn’t her.” Without pause, Halo withdrew a three-blade and stabbed her in the heart.
The god’s amusement dulled the slightest bit. “This isn’t a death match.”
“Loophole,” Halo deadpanned. The other two females hurled insults at him, cursing his familial line up to a thousand generations. He ignored the kink in his gut. “Not her, either.” He stabbed the next, and new curses rang out.
The god’s amusement dulled a bit more.
He stopped in front of the final female—and rammed the blade into her chest. “Or her.” Quick but not easy.
The curses died with the duplicates, the trumpet sounding. Yet his stomach twisted even harder.
“I won the test.” Of that, he had no doubt.
Erebus glowered at him. Had he not expected this? It was possible. He might own the Blade of Destiny, but he didn’t know everything, as proven by his shock when Taliyah had sacrificed herself for Roc.
Had the General’s last-minute decision redirected her fate? Had Halo somehow redirected his? But what had he done, exactly? What choice had he made to bring a change? How could he do it more?
“You won’t win this in the end,” Erebus said, his tone flat. “You don’t see the truth yet. But you will.” He vanished as quickly as he’d appeared, taking his hostility with him.
Halo returned to the duplicate realm, finding the trinite case exactly where he’d left it. With a thought, he flashed the stone away...
She remained inside, at ease, sleeping soundly, and his worry deflated. Hope prevailed. Until a question sparked.
Had the god attempted to summon her and failed, or had he not summoned her, thinking to lure Halo into another false sense of security?
He ground his molars. He required a plan B. The brand. Tomorrow, he would stop at nothing to get it done.
30
Day 62? 63?
6:01 a.m.
The next day dawned the same as any other, yet completely different. Ophelia’s thoughts churned right from the start. Only two labors remained, the repeats set to end. Which kind of sucked. She’d gotten used to having a guaranteed do-over. It took the pressure off. But soon, she’d get no more fresh starts. What if she screwed up?