Thirty Minutes to Heartbreak Box Set (Books 1-3)

by Nadia Scrieva

  Vincent stared at the crazed girl in surprise. Was this Pax? Not the Pax he’d been training with for the past few weeks. Not the girl who had seemed placid and docile since the destruction of the comet that he had wondered if she intended to hang up her boots and never fight again. No, this was the Pax he remembered from long ago. The ferocious girl whose mother had died, plunging her into depression for a year, followed by insane rage for several years. She had been uncontrollable at 16, explosive at 18, and unpredictable at 20. Now here she was; he was not quite sure what her mental age was since the vector zone. Twenty-seven physically, thirty-one mentally? And something much more than that, spiritually.

  “What do you want from me, Vince? Dammit, you need to decide now! Why do you push me so hard and put so much pressure on me? Why the fuck do I deserve this kind of treatment from you when you let your kids off the hook?”

  “Shit, Pax.” He wiped the blood away from his eyes. “Can’t a man stretch first…”

  “First you tell me that my anger is ‘righteous deva rage.’ You tell me that Thorn has no honor and I need to find a better man. Then you mess with my head by making me promise I’ll marry him if something happens to you—what the hell? Fucking marry him? Why would you do that to me?”

  Vincent used both hands to skillfully block the blows that she delivered as she shouted her accusations. “I realize that I gave you conflicting advice…”

  “You screwed me up!” she accused tearfully as she continued to fight desperately, throwing everything he had taught her back at him. “Is this what you want, Vince? Do you want me to be brutal and brave? Do you want me to be a warrior? Or do you want me to be a useless, pretty piece of shit like your daughter? Decide! Decide!”

  “Pax, calm down,” he said, growling as he worked to restrain her. So she’s snapped again. It must be jealousy of that woman Thorn is dating. I don’t blame her. He found that he somehow couldn’t keep up with her angry blows. It looked as though she had finally past the point of no return.

  “I have tried to make you proud!” she screamed. “I have tried to be everything you wanted me to be—just like I did for my fucking grandmother. But she was happy that I became a doctor—she stopped demanding shit from me. Will you ever stop? Do you want me to be a girl or a god? Decide! Do you want me to be a woman or a warrior? Make up your fucking mind, Vincent Kalgren, King of Devas.”

  Vincent blinked, shocked at how emotional she seemed. She really could bottle it up and just unleash it all at once—was anyone more volatile than Pax Burnson? As he stared at the dark-haired woman who was enshrouded in dark silver flames, he thought of her grandfather, and marveled about how much she reminded him of his old friend Kaden. But the singularity of purpose in her eyes chilled him to the bone, making him think of a young Raymond Burnson; yes, she had her father’s eyes, and his fighting ability.

  The girl was growling through clenched teeth as she extended her hands, pouring her vital force forth into a bomb of epic proportions. “What am I, Vincent? A worthless pawn of yours? Is that all you see when you look at me? I looked up to you! For advice on everything! You were my mentor—my role model!” Tears would have been flowing, but as quickly as they gathered they evaporated in the intense heat of the energy which surrounded Pax.

  Vincent had been so taken aback by her sudden resemblance to her father that he hadn’t been preparing to take the blast. He realized he was in trouble.

  “You’ve been the only one who took me seriously since I lost Grandpa. Since I lost my mom. You were the only one who had faith in my potential; you made be believe that I could be something even more than a human being. You made me believe I had a role to fill, that my decisions and actions were important. When Thorn left me, you were the only person who made me feel like I wasn’t worthless. And for Sakra’s sake, I need you!”

  He could see the hatred in her eyes as she brokenly shouted at him. He understood her frustration. It was difficult to respect and care for someone who treated you like an underling and a pawn; and Vincent knew that Pax was one of his most valuable allies. She deserved more of his esteem and attention. With a chill, he realized that his enemy probably valued Pax more than he did. He considered how detrimental it would be to lose her to the other side.

  Pax swiveled her body, pulling the bomb back into her right hand and angling herself in preparation for attack. “So quit fucking around with my head!” She screamed as she pivoted in mid-air like a shot put athlete, flinging her arm and entire upper body to launch the energy sphere at Vincent.

  He tried to block the attack, but he had underestimated the concentration of power within it. It wasn’t a child’s emotional outburst. It was a blast that had been perfected over the decades, and it was being executed in immaculate form by an adult deva woman. It forced him back down into the rocky ground, burying him hundreds of meters into the surface of the planet before it exploded.

  The crater that her attack had formed was massive, and it was several minutes of gasping and panting until she caught her breath. Is this more like it, Vince? Is this how you want me to prepare? Fighting at my maximum and giving it all I have? It also took several minutes until Vincent pulled himself out of the crater and reappeared. The energy blast had apparently knocked the wind out of him and slightly dazed him. When he flew out of the destroyed ground towards her, he had transformed into a different, almost unrecognizable creature. His face and hair were frosty white, like Suja’s. He had relinquished all of his humanity, and he was appearing as a Pure God.

  His face was hard. He hadn’t been taking her seriously, but now he understood the kind of fight she wanted.

  “Fine, girl. No more playing around. Let’s get down to business.”

  “Don’t want another soda first?” she asked mockingly. In truth, it slightly terrified her to talk to Vincent that way, especially when he was in his Pure form. Would he even remember her limits? Would he remember not to take it too far? She had already made him angry enough to goad him into transforming; why was she pushing it further?

  “I am thirsty for another soda. But I feel like beating the shit out of you first.” There was a small smirk on his snowy white lips; all the blood had gone from his body, replaced with something far greater. His veins were thick with pumping the fire of pure vitality. “Forget trying to stay conscious, Pax. Focus your efforts on trying to stay alive.”

  Is he serious? Sakra, what kind of monster have I unleashed?

  His massive arms raised high above his head, stretching to the sky. “I am going to assume,” he spoke as he remained motionless, “that this planet is uninhabited.”

  She nodded slowly as she crouched down into a defensive stance. It was petrifying to see his eyeballs completely white, without any sign of pupils. Yet she knew that he saw even more than before. While he was in this form, regardless of the heat of her own body, she would be unable to touch him without being severely burned. A simple punch could ruin her—he was white-hot. She apprehensively wondered how she was going to deflect what came next. Had she ever before taken a full power attack from him while he was Pure? No, it was impossible. He would never have been so reckless on Earth. But she’d made sure that they weren’t on Earth.

  Well, I asked for it, she thought sarcastically. Letting him break my legs weekly wasn’t enough.

  When Vincent’s lips parted, the man released a bellow of ear-splitting sound that immediately caused Pax to recoil. The yell echoed through the nearby canyons as a beam of white energy left his mouth, hurtling directly toward her.

  Oh, shit.

  * * *

  Meanwhile, back on Earth in the Kalgren compound, Rose was “cleaning up.” Her method of doing housework consisted of pouring herself a glass of wine while she sat to watch her new DVDs, and occasionally glancing at her cleaning robots to make sure they were doing everything correctly. When the first episode finished, Rose stared at the blank screen for a few minutes, lost in thought. She was slightly startled when a figure moved into her line of
sight.

  “Mrs. Kalgren,” said the cleaning robot politely. “An unidentified object has been found. Should I dispose of this?”

  She frowned for a second, snapping out of her reverie as she stared at the object. She didn’t recognize it for a second, and then it hit her.

  Medea’s syringe.

  “I’ll take that,” she said to the robot, reaching out and carefully picking it up between her thumb and forefinger. She peered at the syringe suspiciously. Noticing a single droplet of liquid left in the transparent cylinder, Rose smirked. I guess there is one way to find out if she was using a recreational drug like heroin or a painkiller like morphine. I should send this to the lab for testing.

  Chapter 13: A Wretched Waif

  The two men were lying on the slanted roof of the Victorian manor at Burnson Grove. They had been having a conversation when both of their eyes turned to the sky.

  “Something’s really wrong out there,” Thornton said. “They’ve been gone for a week.”

  “It’s really intense, whatever they’re fighting about,” Asher commented.

  Thornton concentrated, his brow creasing. “You would almost think they’re actually trying to kill each other.”

  “Are they?” Asher asked, his muscles tensing up. He looked to his friend anxiously, getting ready to spring into action.

  “I don’t know. My mom’s been worrying about my dad and she keeps asking me to go find him. I don’t know how to explain to her that I can’t just pop over to one of Jupiter’s moons—I can’t tell her where he is or she’ll freak out and try to go after him herself.”

  Asher shook his head. “Your mom is nuts.”

  “Yeah, but she’s not the only crazy woman I’m worried about right now. Pax has a tendency to overreact, but somehow I don’t think this is one of her usual temper tantrums.”

  “Really? Why not? You brought another girl home for dinner—maybe she found out about that and got really jealous,” Asher suggested.

  “I don’t think so, man.” Thornton gazed up at the sky thoughtfully. “Maybe if they’d been fighting for a few hours, or for a whole day—but a whole week? This is something serious.”

  “I’m just saying that it probably doesn’t help that you’re gallivanting around with Medea.”

  “Gallivanting? Is that what you think I’m doing?”

  “Sure. She’s convenient for you.”

  “Listen, Ash. Maybe it started that way, but it’s not like that anymore. I’m not trying to piss Pax off, I’m really not.”

  “Then what is it about?”

  “I think... I might actually try to be with Medea.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No.” Thornton turned to fix his friend with a serious look. “I still love Paxie, and I could never love anyone more. But I really betrayed her trust, and that’s not easily forgiven—or ever forgotten. Not in many years, maybe not ever. I think I have to accept that I may have permanently ruined my chances with her.”

  “So... you’re moving on?”

  “Yeah, I’m trying to. It does sometimes feel wrong when I’m trying to force these feelings with Medea. But it also feels natural. Like she’s helping me to slowly heal. And maybe someday I could... begin to love her, even a small amount. She really has remarkable strength of character.”

  Asher was rendered speechless for several minutes, but then he carefully nodded. “Wow, man. I’m surprised. That actually sounded mature. As much as I wish you could be my nephew, I’m glad to hear this. I don't want to see you and Pax so unhappy anymore.”

  “Thanks, Ash.” Thornton exhaled, grateful for his friend’s approval. “Sure, it began as a farce, but I really do see something special in that girl. I feel like every time I'm around her I learn something new. It’s stupid, but I do see a lot of Pax in her. Not just because of their similar careers, but because she’s genuinely tough and recklessly stubborn.”

  The younger man smiled. “I actually know what you mean. After training with Medea a couple times, I’m growing attached to her too. She’s so easy to be around, and she feels like one of us.”

  “That’s a good point. She does. Sometimes a human is worthy of being brought into our circle—we haven’t really added anyone new to the group since Layla.”

  “Yeah, and Layla’s awesome. We never regretted that.” Asher reached over to punch his friend in the shoulder. “This is great, buddy. I wouldn’t have liked to see you trample Medea in a ploy to get to Pax.”

  “I hate myself for thinking of using her like that to begin with. There’s just something novel and special about a nice, normal girl, isn’t there?”

  “There sure is,” agreed Asher. Images of Para’s body in motion during their last training session came into his mind. If she was what was considered normal then the word had just become much more appealing to him.

  “Holy crap, Ash!” Thornton suddenly shouted, jerking his head up to the sky. His eyes squinted and his nostrils flared at what he sensed. “What is my dad doing? He’s going to kill Pax at this rate. Can you sense her? Is she still alive?”

  After a few minutes of focusing on the powers, Asher shook his head. “I don’t know, man. I can’t detect Pax’s energy anymore. I can’t find a trace of it. Do you think she’s…”

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Thornton said, but his tone betrayed the fact that he had been anxiously wondering the same thing. “Maybe she just got knocked unconscious.”

  “If she’s unconscious, she won’t be able to teleport your dad home,” Asher reminded him.

  Thornton nodded. He fixed his eyes on the sky, trying desperately to search for any sign of Pax. Even his father’s prana levels were vastly plummeting. A deep frown creased his eyebrows as he interpreted what he sensed. Over the past day, it had not only been the dwindling magnitude of their power which troubled him, but the underlying emotions he could feel in their energy patterns.

  His father seemed afraid of something; and when had Vincent ever been afraid?

  * * *

  A sun was rising in the east. Another was rising from the west. Two more were rising in the south. Pax blinked, realizing that these were not suns, but moons. Wincing, she tried to lift her face from the frozen ground, clear away her dizziness and get her bearings. She was not sure how long she had blacked out for, but it felt like a really long time. It was difficult to move, but she groaned, reaching down to feel for her limbs to make sure she was still in one piece. She felt that both arms and legs were still connected to her torso, even though she was incredibly numb. She had not yet become a paraplegic, and this was reassuring. Further examination revealed to her that her somewhat-small (albeit lovely, in her opinion) breasts were unharmed, and her long hair had somehow not been completely singed off by the countless explosions she had suffered.

  Her chest shook with a victorious chuckle that quickly assuaged into a cough. She was not merely alive. She was alive and almost as beautiful as she had been before—whatever that amounted to. Not much to Vincent, apparently. Nevertheless, it was not time to rest.

  Pax pulled herself painfully off the ground and placed her hands on her hips. Her clothes were tattered. She flew up towards Vincent’s life force, and smirked at him with all the confidence and bravado she didn’t feel. “That tickled,” she announced, forcing a performed laugh. Even that tiny display of humor made her body ache. She imagined that she could feel blood dripping down her stomach from places where the skin had been burned off. The bones of her ribcage were probably visible, but she continued to boast. “You didn’t manage to injure me much, but at least you ruined my outfit! Amara would thank you; she says this color is out of fashion.”

  Vincent snarled at her flippant manner. “Your face is out of fashion. Don’t worry, I’m about to pound you a new one.”

  As the most intense combat of her life wore on, Pax found herself falling victim to various techniques that she had never seen Vincent use before. She tried to pay close attention to his maneu
vers so that she could emulate them later, but she was so dazed that staying upright required great effort. Were there more moons in the sky now than the last time she looked? She very much missed sparring with Amara and almost always winning. This was just too much.

  Every minute was exhausting to the point she could have collapsed. However she continued to struggle to avoid showing the slightest sign of pain, mainly because of who she was with.

  “Girl, you can’t keep this up for much longer,” Vincent said pityingly. “Besides, I was kind of hoping to get back to my wife tonight.”

  “I’m fine,” she assured him, extending a hand to launch a barrage of fireballs in his direction. She winced as the energy to create these projectiles left her body; energy she very much needed. “Our enemies aren’t going to pause the fight so you can have a cuddle-break.”

  The man roared and flew at her on the offense, dodging the fireballs and planting his knee into her already bleeding and broken nose before phasing behind her and jabbing his elbow into her spine at the back of her neck. He felt the bones yield a bit beneath his blow and heard her accompanying scream. He laughed.

  “Don’t be jealous, girl. It doesn't suit you. You should spend less time lamenting your own loneliness, pathetically pining for my son to warm your bed, and more time studying ancient magicks and improving your control over your prana.”

  Pax pulled herself upright, flying away from him and flexing her neck and shoulders. She almost expected every blow he landed to permanently damage her body, and was surprised when she was able to still move the body parts he assaulted. Although she felt fragile, she knew that those were only emotions and fears clouding her judgment. Her body had been designed for this; made to take the abuse of a full-blooded god. It was her heritage—she just had to dig into herself to find where the strength was buried, and pull it to the surface. She let out a battle cry and dove at him again.