The corner of Crius’s mouth twitches. He sits up a bit straighter, leaning forward to look into my eyes.
“So much bitterness . . . who hurt you, Nylicia?”
As if I’ll answer that question. For what? So he can go running to warn the god he adores so much?
Fuck. That.
“If you value the cock I know you don’t use, you will keep such questions to yourself.” Crius’s face clouds with rage and I smile even wider. “Apologies. You are using it now, aren’t you? Lots of the ‘self-love’ going on. I know you’re immortal, but how are you not chaffed by now? I am so curious.”
“Ho—what . . .”
His sputtering is enough to make me smirk. Embarrassing a human? So fun. Embarrassing a god? Priceless. “I see everything that goes on in your dreams, Crius, and your waking moments as well.”
I’m not at all ashamed about the lack of privacy I afford him. The dreams of almost every creature in the Universe lay visible to me. If they’re useful to the final cause, all I have to do is focus on them and everything is bared for me to see.
Anyone. Anywhere.
Even the Aviraji.
Yes, “dangerous” is my middle name.
And these fools don’t even understand who I really am yet.
Crius’s glare remains focused on me.
I sigh. “I really can’t control it. And I can promise you’re controlling it much better than Ianthen. His dreams are honestly starting to frighten me. I’m too innocent to witness such things. Truly I am.”
Crius runs a hand down his face, his nostrils flaring slightly. He seems to be praying for patience.
I wish him luck with that. Really, I do.
He throws me a hard look. “Why are you here?”
“I need the Aristi holding Atarya’s powers.”
Crius shoots out of his seat. “Justice? Why?”
I stare at my nails, feeling sorry for him. Normally, he’s more astute than this. It truly is sad how out of whack his brain is.
And all because he can’t admit he needs one female that badly.
“Can you really not guess?”
He continues to glare at me. “Who is absorbing them?”
“Not Dimithinia of Maleksoraniel, I can assure you. If it was, I’d be advising you to run very, very far.”
“I’ve done nothing to her!”
“Keep lying to yourself.” Gods, sometimes I hate every male that came from his bloodline. Damn him and all his brothers.
Dimithinia’s soul was with him for countless millennia after her death at the beginning of the Dixieme Eductu. He spent more time with that soul when it was in its Aristi than with any creature he’s ever encountered.
Not even his brothers see him as much.
He took it out into the world with him, showing her soul the wonders of time as it passed.
That is, until I brought her back to life. He’s been studiously ignoring her since. Breaking her heart and not giving a fuck in his selfish need for independence.
Did I mention how much I hate him and his brothers?
“Open the Otificas and give it to me,” I say, deciding to let him exist in his little bubble of denial. For a little while longer anyway. Time is running out for Mr. Celibate.
Crius shakes his head, glaring up at the ceiling. He motions for me to follow him, flashing with me out of the main area of the Abideos and appearing in front of two massive doors.
Beyond the doors is the Otificas, the most guarded chamber in all of Renentr.
The Chamber of Powers.
The only way in? Have Crius open it for you. Or kill him. The chamber is as much a part of him as his own powers.
The two black, marble doors that block our way are almost twenty-feet tall each. Together, measured across, they’re much longer than that. An intricate design that looks like thick, gold branches stretches across them, intertwining and covering the doors like a web.
“Who is getting them?” Crius asks again, waving his hand and causing the invisible energy protecting the entrance to dissipate.
The branches come to life, filling the darkened hall with a rough scraping sound as they twist away from the doors. Once clear, they swing inward on their own, and beyond them is another long, dark hallway.
We dematerialize into the chamber together. The walls here don’t glow white. They wouldn’t. The Aristis housed inside aren’t filled with souls, but with cosmic powers that shine in different colors—colors that flare, waiting to be set free.
Crius walks up to an Aristi that glows bright red and I smirk as he brings it down.
Fourteen-millennia of planning. Of arranging each life. Each event. An entire bloodline leading up to the new owner of that purpose.
I won’t be able to take the Aristi from him. It’s solid, and in my current form, sadly, I am not. But I do have enough energy to transport it to my actual location.
Crius scowls when it disappears out of his hand. “Damn it, Nylicia. Who?”
“Evesse Salazar.” I smirk anew at his startled expression. “She is destined to become the next Goddess of Justice. She alone can save Zeniel from the hell he is trapped in. She can gain control of the beast that lies within him. Mavrak will not be tamed any other way. You know what they say, leading a man by his cock and all that.”
Crius’s brow furrows. “Another prophexia? Why didn’t you say something?”
Laughing, I turn to leave him. “Crius, darling, they’re all prophexias. It’s merely a matter of when and where. I have some prophexis in the works, too. Sexy mofos, as they say on Earth. Can’t wait to introduce you. On another note, I also need the powers of Flux. It’s time for Dyletri to make good on that name I gave him so long ago.”
“Xinthnatia’s powers?” I can see the wheels turning once more behind Crius’s gorgeous, pupilless, silver eyes. “The Handler of Change. That’s why you gave Salicyar the name Dyletri.”
“Yup.”
“Those are going to Ismini Harrovnian, aren’t they?”
There go his powers of observation.
“You bet your hot, egotistical ass they are.”
CHAPTER 5
One day after the sacrifice.
– Enzyria
EVESSE
“E vesse . . . Evesse . . . wake up. Please Eve, please . . . you need to come back to me . . .”
In the space between darkness and a world I can barely sense, a voice leaks through. Hearing it sends awareness racing through my synapses, a current throughout my mind.
I try to raise my arm. Try to touch my head.
Nothing. I can’t move. I can’t feel my limbs. There’s nothing but my consciousness. I’m aware. Nothing more.
Why? What’s going on? Where am I? I rack my mind, going full-blown street sweeper on it. The last thing I remember, I was with Ismini in the back of a minivan. No. No wait. I was dragged into the desert, and then ran into a vortex of sheer energy that tore us apart.
Holy shit, I’m dead.
I hear the words, recognize my voice within the thought.
Dead. I’m supposed to be dead. Am I? If I am, how am I aware? Am I a ghost or something?
Oh, God.
Just as panic starts to sets in, memories rush forth. The last few weeks of my life click into place.
Then it’s gone.
And then, with brutal force, it all comes back again. I remember the blue skin and black teeth of Enteax. The leathery beige skin of his partner, Lisrn. They kidnapped me along with Ismini and took us to Arizona to sacrifice Ismini to the Higher Fates.
Ismini.
Fuck. Where is she? My best friend was thrown into the vortex before me. I clearly remember the blinding light surrounding us, Ismini’s shocked scream, and then the white-hot pain of my body being ripped to shreds.
The memories keep coming, each one hitting me just a little harder.
Two weeks ago, I was a normal girl, working in my best friend Soleria’s restaurant with our other best friend Ismini. I had a fun
job. A cute studio right by the river in Astoria, New York. Even a hookup at Midtown Comics in downtown Manhattan that helped me support my comic book obsession.
Everything was peachy keen. At least, until a week after Ismini’s eighteenth birthday, when some bullshit god showed up out of nowhere and took off with her because she was the ritual sacrifice he needed to reincarnate his ancient lover.
One would think that Ismini might have mentioned that little fact in all the years we knew each other. A simple, “Hey, I’ve been condemned to die since before I was born, and one day, a god is going to come for me and make sure that happens.”
But no, she didn’t. To anyone. Hadn’t given us one bit of a warning.
So fucked up. Just thinking about it is enough to send anger rushing into the crevices of my mind and—
Wait. I still have a body. My head feels like a jackhammer was set loose inside; each excruciating pound reverberates through my skull.
A skull means I still have a body, right?
I throw commands at my brain, one after the other. Attempt to open my eyes. Flex my fingers. Something.
Nothing happens.
I can think, feel emotions, but I can’t see, and I can’t freaking move!
I’m fucked. So fucked.
“Lay her here. I need to check her.”
Ved? As in Vedlyl, the God of Medicine.
I open my mouth to scream his name. A jolt slides along my limbs. For a split second, I can feel my body. Raw agony explodes everywhere.
“What the fuck are you doing to her?” A monster somewhere demands.
“She’s contorting! I need to hold her down!”
The same monstrous voice yells out. “Careful with her!”
Oh, God. That voice. I recognize it deep within the very fibers of my awareness.
“Zen. I can’t believe I’m saying this to you of all beings but calm down!”
“I told you to be fucking careful!”
A whimper leaves me. Zeniel!
“Zeniel, calm the hell down. I’m going in there; I’m going to try to find her.”
Nylicia.
I forget all about the pain, remembering . . .
Shortly after arriving in Enzyria, I had a dream. In it, I met the Watcher of Destinies and sealed my own fate by walking through a portal that had Zen’s image reflected on the other side.
“If I told you this was waiting for you on the other side . . . would you follow me through?” Nylicia had asked me.
In the portal, Zeniel had been curled into himself, shirtless, with his long, dark red hair falling over his shoulders, and every muscle bulging with the strain of some internal battle.
I didn’t know then what was causing his pain. All I knew, with absolute certainty, was that I’d do anything to ease his suffering.
Anything.
So I walked through the portal.
What seemed like seconds later, Vedlyl woke me up, took me to Ismini’s room.
Less than half an hour later, I knew Nylicia was real. I learned about fucking matings.
And I was no longer human.
Days later, now I’m either dead or about to be.
“Vedlyl, are her vitals stabilized enough for me to go in there?”
“Her heart rate is way too high, even for an immortal. Look at her skin, look at all the energy coursing through her right now.”
“I have to try.”
“You’re not going near her unless it’s safe for her!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Zen. Shut the hell up and let me do what is necessary!”
The voices recede, leaving me on my own again. I try not to despair as the darkness seems to press in on me.
At least I know I’m still alive. That counts for something, right?
Not if I have to remain a vegetable forever, trapped inside my own damned mind.
“Now, now . . . I would never let that happen. At least not for long.”
“No fucking way. Nylicia?” I ask.
“Evesse? Can you hear me?”
“Oh, God, Nylicia! Yes. I’m here. Can you hear me?”
“Yes. I can.”
“Where are you? I can’t see anything.”
“I know. Me neither. But I need you to stay calm, okay? Every time your emotions spike, you threaten to bring down the room. Hell, I think the whole dimension is shaking, you powerful little thing, you.”
“What?”
“Your powers are multiplying even though you’re unconscious. And . . . well, they’re tied to your emotions, and emotionally speaking, Eve you’re . . .”
“I get it.”
Nylicia goes on as if I didn’t speak. “Passionate, I’d say. Others might say high-strung, but I’ll stick with passionate. I think the human, medical term for it is Borderline Personality Disorder.”
“You gave these powers to me,” I call out to Nylicia. “Can’t you . . . stabilize them or something?”
Nylicia remains quiet.
I haven’t known this chick for long, but I’ve been around her long enough to have learned two things:
One, if anyone has Borderline Personality Disorder, it’s that bitch right there.
And two, her not speaking means the world as we know it is about to end.
“Nylicia? Just give it to me straight woman.”
“Let’s stick with what I do know for certain.”
“Hell, no! You’re telling me everything. Everything, you hear me?”
“You are becoming more powerful, but on top of that you’re stuck in some sort of coma. There’s only one thing I know that can cause that. Did you, by any chance, think of anything that happened in your past right as you ran into the vortex? Traumatizing details. Things like that?”
Of course I did. Lisrn threatened to rape me. All I was able to remember as Ismini and I were dragged towards that vortex was what happened years ago.
How my stepfather tried to rape me.
How I was forced to end him.
The memories of where my life went after that followed me all the way into that vortex.
They’d been there even as I died.
“I’m taking your silence as a yes.”
“What does it mean?”
“Destiny, hon. Mutation. Amalgamation. Whatever you’re more comfortable with. And it’s going to hurt. I’m sorry. On the other hand, this all benefits me in the end and I won’t deny it.”
“What exactly does that mean, Nylicia? Amalgamation?” A horrible thought strikes. “What do you mean ‘benefits’ you? What the hell are you planning with me woman?”
“You’ve got to ride this out.”
“Ride what out? Nylicia, for once just stop with the obscure shit and tell me what’s going on! I’m not your goddamn puppet, you hear me?”
“She’s barely known me a few weeks and already she knows,” Nylicia mumbles, her voice getting fainter with each word.
“Nylicia? Nylicia, damn it, don’t leave. Please tell me what’s about to happen!”
Nylicia never answers.
Darkness expands, an even more oppressing presence. The pressure grows, and grows, until there’s nothing left.
Not even a single thought running through my mind.
CHAPTER 6
Two weeks later.
– Brownsville, Pennsylvania (USA)
ZENIEL
“P lease. Please. I . . . oh, God. What are you?”
The man doesn’t wait for my answer to his question.
He spins around and takes off, his shoes screeching against the cement.
It won’t do him any good. He’s been selfish. Caused his wife’s death. There’s nowhere in the world he can hide now. Not until he’s dead.
I, Zeniel, God of Tranquility, want to spare him. Not because of any desire to see the man live. Hell, no, but I don’t want to be the one to punish him.
However, the creature inside me, Mavrak, God of Vengeance, has other plans. He locked onto the man and now he’s threatening to hurt everyone els
e around us if I don’t let him have this one thing.
A single left turn and Mavrak knows he has the man trapped. The man’s breath hitches as he comes to a dead end. The whimper that leaves him pierces through the roars leaking into my mind.
Damn it. I want to help him. Want to turn away before it’s too late.
But it’s not going to happen. Mavrak’s agonized. The details of the man’s crime replay over and over in my mind.
I lost control the moment I laid eyes on the man, and now, Vengeance is desperate for its due.
“Please . . . I didn’t do anything. Why are you doing this to me?” The man’s shoulders fall, his head hanging low. He hasn’t even turned to face me as I approach.
It doesn’t matter. It’s not like he has to. He still feels me; what I am. What I’ve come to do.
His primal instincts know death has arrived.
You better be grateful I’m sending you another one, Lucifer.
“Why?” the man whispers.
“You know what you did,” Mavrak’s warped voice speaks out of my mouth. “You caused her death.”
“She was already depressed! It’s not my fault she hung herself!”
His shout sends more images shooting through my brain. From the other side, the wife’s soul screams out in agony, demanding retribution.
Her agony is so great that she hasn’t even moved on. She’s trapped between the mortal realm and the spirit world, the four walls of their bedroom her infernal prison.
“She lost your child, and you betrayed her. Barely a week later.”
“She couldn’t get over it. I needed a break! I needed someone to make me feel good for a night!”
That does it. Against my will, my eyes—no, Mavrak’s eyes focus on the man’s back. Shadows slide out, the black-and-red fog illuminating the alleyway as it makes its way towards the man.
Red lightning flashes inside the rapidly expanding miasma.
No! I scream inside my head.
My mouth however, speaks his words. His hate. “You added to her pain. She was innocent.”
The man turns, his wide, frightened eyes filling with tears. “Please.”
I manage to gain back enough control to turn my head, but it does me no good. The shadows have been released and are locked on their prey.
Ryze Series: Books 1 & 2 Page 28