“I did almost forget...”
I looked back at him. “Seriously?”
“The man you seek is not alone. You will have a weapon there against him, a creature that cannot be killed, but only if you have my mark to control it.”
“I’m not getting any more tattoos.”
“It is temporary—”
“You’re not marking me again—”
“I’ll do it,” Melinoë spoke up. There was a defiant lift to her chin even if her bottom lip trembled. She pushed up the sleeve of her leather coat and offered the underside of her forearm.
Ashur didn’t argue; he extended his hand, wrapped extra-jointed fingers around her arm, and pressed his palm tight to her flesh.
She screamed—at first a sharp, painful shriek that died to a whimper as she tried to tamp down on it. Her eyes watered and skin smoked as he released her arm.
Pressed into her light brown skin was an Enochian mark. Almost a brand, but not a typical burn—it was fading to a red mark before our eyes, the raised and blistered skin healing.
“Within a few weeks it will be gone entirely and has no use beyond giving you command over my underling.”
Melinoë winced and cradled her arm to her chest. “Great.”
“Such a thoughtful gift—I’m almost jealous.” I turned back toward the portal I was about to open, my arm raised with the stiletto in hand, when sudden pressure on my shoulders startled me. I clamped down on a yelp as a cloak fell on either side of me to brush the floor, Ashur’s hands still on my shoulders.
The closer he came, the more I could hear the scream of reality his presence tore at, and I cringed as he leaned down and spoke in my ear. “It is cold where you’re going, Elis. You’re welcome.”
Fuuuuuck off and die you creepy motherfucker.
No more talking—I dragged the tip of the stiletto up my forearm, not deep enough to hit anything vital but enough that blood collected on the blade. I flicked my wrist, spraying droplets ahead of me.
The air sparked as the blood hit an invisible barrier, and the liquid spun and twisted into a rope, falling along a channel I couldn’t see. As the two ends connected, a void opened within and bitter cold blasted us.
If this is a trick, I will find a way to murder him.
I grasped Melinoë’s fingers in one hand, the stiletto in the other, and stepped through.
Twenty-Two
...The Looking Glass
We came out into a snowless wasteland that felt like a tundra.
The land was all shades of deep dark blue, from the ground beneath our feet to the rolling hills, to the skies above. It was almost impossible to pick out any details, and when the portal closed behind us, we were left in near blackness.
My typical light spell relied on, like, actual light to gather—I had nothing here to work with in that regard.
I huddled in the cloak and tried to get my bearings, shivering. There was no wind, at least—that would be enough to kill us outright at this temperature.
Melinoë drew her hands into the sleeves of her jacket and hugged her midsection, her arm linked through mine. “He said this place wasn’t very big.”
“Well, he’s got wings. Probably changes his perspective.” We needed light, and we’d need to find our way back to this spot. I racked my brain for a moment, and then conjured a spark of electricity. I left it twisting and whirling on the ground, which at least we’d see from a distance, then called another to hover on the tip of the stiletto like a torch and guide the way as we set off. My fingertips were icy and I thrust a core of heat into the magic that warmed the immediate air around us.
“Feeling really stupid,” I admitted. “Regardless of what he said, we still should’ve packed food. And more supplies. Winter clothes. He had me thinking this was an in and out kind of situation.”
“Me too,” she said. “He doesn’t think like we do, though.”
That was quite true.
There weren’t...trees, not exactly, in the dimension, but the way the ground beneath us rose into textured tall but narrow hills was almost tree-like from a distance. Closeup they threw shadows much like the woods would, and towered over us threateningly. Not a sound but our own steps and breaths broke the air, though if I listened I could hear the faint crackle of electricity I’d left by our exit.
“So first thing we’re doing when we get out of here?” she said, peering up as we passed the tree-things.
“Keeping spirits up by thinking positively?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm. Kill my brother, probably, assuming he can be found.”
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, avoiding my eyes. “You wouldn’t’ve been in a position to call Ashur for help if I hadn’t dragged you there...”
“I would’ve used that mark eventually, I’m sure. But I still intend to murder Dev for his part in it. You?”
“I want to get a room at a four- or five-star hotel—a suite high up—and barricade the door and only open it for room service. And I’m going to turn the heat up to thirty degrees Celsius and sit in my underwear and watch movies I have to pay a fortune for.”
“That is...oddly specific but I like it. Invite me over so I can sit in the enormous bathtub with jets.”
“Okay but you’re buying because I do not have the salary for all this.”
“I never touch my trust fund but at this point I think I will do so just to make this happen. There’s going to be a lot of booze involved.”
“This is an excellent plan—it’s a date.”
A date. I didn’t know if she meant it like that or more casually, but I looked forward to the possibility nonetheless. Her intention to lighten the mood somewhat worked—I felt a little less terrified, a little less filled with doom and gloom, merely talking about a future that didn’t involve wandering around this fucking dimension.
“There might also be awful men for you to kill in the hotel,” she suggested.
“Mmm, now you’re speaking my language. There most certainly would be, and I don’t like billionaires.”
“Isn’t your dad a billionaire?”
“He’s a millionaire and he pays a lot of taxes quite happily, thank you very much.”
Something darted through the shadows to my left.
My steps nearly hitched but I steadied and kept going, giving Melinoë’s arm a squeeze. When she looked my way, I tipped my chin to the left and met her eyes.
A small nod indicated she understood, and we both walked more alert now, the conversation dying so we could better listen and watch.
I was wrong when I thought it darted—it didn’t, but the shifting shadows from my makeshift torch made the movement seem more erratic. The footfalls we heard indicated slow steady steps, something stalking us from a distance.
Taking bets, it was fifty/fifty what was watching us: either Ashur’s target or Ashur’s underling. He hadn’t indicated how long his target had been here—maybe he was watching for portal doorways and would approach us like Ashur indicated, or maybe he was all the fucking way on the other side of this “world”.
The thing moved closer now and I tensed, hand squeezing the stiletto and other arm loosening from Melinoë’s. She took the hint and eased her arm to her side, blowing out a breath that fogged the air in front of us and reaching for her sleeve.
“Behind us,” she said softly, and if I listened closely I could hear the steps pacing at our back.
“One...” I whispered. “Two...”
On three we spun around and I summoned magic in my free hand in preparation.
The creature walked steadily toward us. Immediately I sensed it wasn’t human even if it looked it. Ragged black pants and a torn shirt stained with blood and gore, no shoes, stringy brown hair hanging around its shoulders. The unfamiliar face was female; the look it gave me was alien, its head cocked to the side in the glow of my magic.
Melinoë lifted her arm with the mark exposed and the creature stopped dead.
“Can you speak to
us?” I asked.
It stared at the mark and then at me. “Yes.” Its voice croaked, either from disuse or inhuman vocal cords.
“Ashur sent us to kill someone,” Melinoë said. “Can you lead us to him?”
Its eyes darted back and forth between us again, then it nodded, turned to the right, and started walking.
Melinoë pushed her sleeve down again. “That was easier than I expected,” she whispered.
“Maybe we’re due.” I doubted it, though I didn’t say so—my skepticism was likely implied by the circumstances we’d found ourselves in.
The glow from the stiletto’s tip faintly caught the creature ahead of us walking, just far enough that I could still glimpse it without losing it entirely. We moved deep into the almost-forest, no other sound permeating the space.
The cloak, I grudgingly admitted, was warm. Densely heavy, at least fifteen pounds, and I did not want to speculate what it was made of, but all Aanzhenii clothing I’d seen appeared to be natural fibers so maybe it was some kind of alien creature’s skin. Happy thoughts as I tucked it around me tighter with my free hand and ducked my head so my ears were partially covered. That Ashur knew the dimension was cold and left me with a cloak annoyed me more than if he hadn’t bothered—any time he did something almost human, it threw me a little more off kilter because the actions were even more alien by contrast.
The shape of the forest shifted, the “trees” growing thicker and more clumped together, almost like buildings—all of it seemingly molded from clay. I watched for any sign of life, any indication our target waited for us, but the area seemed deserted.
“Should we discuss a plan for how to kill this guy?” Melinoë said in a low voice. “This does not seem like the stealthy way to do things.”
“I don’t know that there’s a way to sneak up on him anyway. I don’t know how magic works here—not bigger, heavier spells. He might have magical boobytraps. So we scope out wherever he’s living and then come up with a plan? Throw random lightning at him? Pity you don’t still have a gun—I bet that would surprise him.”
“He’s been stuck here for how long—maybe we can offer to get him out?”
“Hmm. I don’t think he’ll believe two women came all this way to rescue some random dude when we don’t even have a name...but it might give him a reason not to kill us right away...” An idea was forming in my head as we walked—a way to play this that might work out.
Just as I was formulating a plan, Melinoë stopped and looked behind us.
I paused, swiveling my gaze between the creature who kept walking and my companion. “Mel?”
“Did you hear...?” She shook her head and started walking again, but slowly and still looking behind us. “I could’ve sworn...”
I stepped up next to her and thrust the stiletto ahead, peering in the darkness.
The sound was faint at first, but...
Movement, rolling like a wave toward us, flashes of red, chittering—
The swarm had found us here.
“What the fuck!” I grabbed her arm and pulled her with me as I started backing up. I threw a token bolt at them but didn’t want to deplete my reserves—not when we still had someone to kill.
We both turned and ran, racing in the direction the creature had taken. Melinoë was much faster anyway, but with the weight of the cloak over my shoulders, I positively dragged behind. I could toss it, but even if we somehow outrun the swarm here, I’d still end up freezing.
Soon Ashur’s creature came into view ahead, illuminated by my blue light and still walking calmly ahead of us.
“Um, creepy demon chick!” I hollered. “Run!”
It actually stopped and turned to look back at me, its head cocked and brows pulled into what might have been confusion but my view of it bobbed as I ran. Melinoë and I blew past it, the cloak rocking at my back and stiletto streaming light.
How the fuck did the swarm find us here? We were off Dev’s trail—there was no way he’d entered this dimension...right? The doorway had sealed behind us—could they indeed jump dimensions somehow, including one supposedly only I could open What the hell?
I hadn’t time to wonder about it, regretting many of my life choices to never go to the gym as I tried to keep up with Melinoë’s deceptively simple-looking, quick sprint.
I glanced back over my shoulder, instinct more than thought—I knew it would slow me down, risk tripping me up, but the chittering grew closer and I couldn’t help but look.
The swarm overcame the creature, rolling up its body, flesh disappearing under a moving mass of writhing bodies and glittering red eyes. The whole mass collapsed and the swarm kept going, Ashur’s creature nothing but a mess of torn clothing and blood unmoving on the ground.
So much for unkillable.
Just as I turned my attention back to the direction I was running in, my left foot caught on the uneven ground. Ankle twisted, balance lost, I flew forward. The stiletto left my hand, spun away still dripping with blue-white light, as my hands braced to catch my fall. I slammed into the solid ground, pain darting up my left wrist when I landed on it with a yelp.
Melinoë grasped my upper arm and hauled me up; pain flared through shoulder I’d hurt the other day, and then my ankle but it held my weight. I scanned for the weapon, caught the glow of dancing electricity ahead. She kept a hold of me while I swooped down to grasp the weapon’s handle and channeled electricity into the obsidian blade, the dancing blue-white light on its tip expanding to a storm.
I loosened the magic and tossed it over my shoulder, the swarm screeching as the electricity connected.
Previously, we’d just been outrunning these things. What the fuck were we supposed to do since we couldn’t kill them...? There was no escape in this dimension—no car, no winged motherfucker to zip us through a portal to safety. I racked my brain as I ran, like I might suddenly have an epiphany, but there was none.
Just terror and running and a rising certainty we were well and truly fucked.
The ground rumbled and rolled ahead, dipping in a deep groove that speared right toward us. I thrust Melinoë to one side and I dove to the other, narrowly missing being caught in the gap.
I landed hard on my side again, twisted to look behind us—the dip in the ground deepened and widened as it passed us, swallowing up the swarm. Both sides of the groove folded back up to seal the creatures away.
Silence descended, just our own panting breaths and my pulse beating in my ears.
I turned at the sound of footfalls ahead and looked up as we climbed to our feet.
A man stood about twenty feet ahead, shadowed in the poor light. Tall, slender, just a dark outline in this cold hellscape.
“Visitors,” his voice cut through the silence. “And ones who brought pursuers.”
And here was the man we were sent to kill, come right out to meet us.
Twenty-Three
True Name
He waited while we gained our feet. Melinoë sent a fearful glance back at where the swarm had been swallowed up by the ground but there was no further sign of them.
In the crackling blue-white light, I caught more of his features. He was in his sixties, maybe closer to seventy, hair silver and carefully combed back, eyes dark and narrowed on us. He wore a black suit, though the material wavered a little—maybe a glamour, maybe not a typical cloth. Ashur hadn’t said how long the man had been here, but his dark silver goatee was carefully shaped like he had access to a razor. No sign of gauntness to suggest he went without food—perhaps Ashur was right about our bodies changing for this dimension, feeding on environmental energy rather than typical calories.
“I’m about to kill you,” his crisp voice broke through my thoughts. “Would you care to plead for your life and explain yourselves?”
If he was truly going to kill us right away, he would’ve, like, killed us right away. Shot in the dark, but we were just indirectly responsible for Ashur’s underling getting killed after it had been pursing this dud
e for however long he’d been here—he had to be curious. “I take it you get a lot of visitors if you’re so quick to want to wipe us out?”
He said nothing, though his gaze focused on me.
“I would really appreciate a spot to recover from,” Melinoë gestured vaguely behind us, “all that. Please.” Careful vulnerability in her voice, and I wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not, but seemed wise—too weepy and sobbing, and he’d see right through it, but we still had to seem believably shaken and weaker than him.
At least that part was true—being shaken, that is. As for weakness, well, we’d see what the next several minutes brought.
A beat of silence passed, and then the ground shifted again, unfolding behind him like a pop-up building assembling. It resembled a small, two-story manor, a tall gate silently swinging open behind him to reveal a path toward the front door.
So it was definitely him who had the ground swallow up the swarm—I guess being here for so long, he could bend the dimension to his will. Didn’t Ashur say something about it being “malleable”?
I waited for him to head into the house ahead of us but the ground kept shifting. While he stood in place, it rolled him backward, up, and out of sight into the house like a conveyer belt. If I wasn’t freaked the fuck out, I would’ve found it comical.
“Do you have a plan?” she asked in a low voice as we huddled together again and stepped forward.
“Vaguely. Follow my lead?”
“As opposed to how we’re playing things now?”
I smirked. “Right, okay, we’ll just keep doing what we’re doing.”
While we walked up to the house, I tossed the situation around in my brain. He had complete control over the dimension, even the very landscape. There was no particular tinge of magic that I felt beyond the usual—with that level of power and control, perhaps he’d been pumping magic into the actual ground for so long that it had melded with him somehow. It was likely not something I could access myself, not without a lot of time and practice, which we didn’t have.
Blood Ties Page 16