by Lissa Kasey
“Would Sam have called them?”
“Sam doesn’t work for the Dominion. He works for Max. The only reason the vampires work with the Dominion at all is because of me.”
“You have a lot of allies for a man the Dominion keeps trying to shove in a basement like he doesn’t exist,” Gabe remarked.
Seiran sucked in a deep breath. “I do.”
“They don’t look like they want to negotiate.”
“The Dominion doesn’t negotiate. They just kill.”
Gabe let that comment filter through him. “You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who kills for the sake of killing.”
“I’m not. I don’t actually kill them.”
But he’d never been able to stand in the Dominion’s way before. Except… A vague memory came into place. “Sam?”
“That was more you than me,” Seiran admitted. “Sam did a lot of shit, but once a vampire, he was out of the Dominion’s hands. I don’t think making Page a vampire is going to be a way out here. Plus, Sam was already mostly dead when you brought him over.”
“And tied to Roman,” Gabe recalled. “And necromancers aren’t supposed to be changed.”
“No?” Seiran asked. “Why can’t necromancers change?”
“They don’t usually rise,” Gabe said. Something else tugged at his memory. A familiar but vague idea of vampires and necromancers mixing. “If he is a necromancer at all, and his comments about the souls makes me think he’s not. We will have to find another way to save your assistant. Or let them kill him.”
“He said he raised his cat,” Seiran pointed out.
“Living enough that her soul was there, that’s not necromancy. She’d have just been a rotting corpse without the soul. Putting her back in the ground wouldn’t have needed fire.”
Seiran seemed to think about that for a minute. “You don’t think he did this on purpose? He’s not our killer?”
“No. I’d have sensed it. Whatever pulled me from the grave early wasn’t Page. It was bigger than Page.” Gabe felt that in his gut. An awareness that the constant tugging on his revenant was a demand from somewhere. A witch perhaps, more likely several. But he knew he’d have recognized that tug from Page if it had been him.
Seiran was silent as Gabe directed the car near the edge of the grouping. How many cops and witches were needed to take down one witch? This seemed like overkill, even for a baby necromancer. Gabe suspected that Page’s powers, as strong as he might be, were still undeveloped, and minimal. Could he be powerful enough to raise an army of the undead? Maybe in a few decades with a lot of training.
And with that came another strange bunch of memories as if Gabe had received training. Death magic was something all vampires accessed in different terms. Raising armies of zombies and golems weren’t usually in their scope. Yet he could almost feel the pull of those things. Like he’d done them before. But that couldn’t be right. Necromancers didn’t rise. Once the grave claimed them, it never let them go. Why did he feel like that was only mostly the truth?
“There is only one way to save him,” Seiran said.
“Unleash the kraken?” Gabe asked in a half joke as he parked the car.
“You have no idea how close to reality that is.” Seiran was out the second it stopped and Gabe rushed to follow. There was a pit of rage built up inside of Seiran, he could feel it rising, bits added to the top with each event making everything tinted with an edge of red. It was almost like a red out. Gabe knew the vampire berserker rage well, though he couldn’t recall experiencing it himself in centuries. The revenant completely lost to bloodlust; it was a boogeyman of vampire lore.
But Seiran wasn’t a vampire. Would being tied to one be enough? Could the revenant gain access to the witch? And how much trouble would they all be in if that happened to the Pillar of Earth?
Gabe found it strange, how instead of it being something that suddenly appeared, that anger seemed to have been pooling for a long time. Walled off behind wards and shields, buried as though that would stop it from someday spilling over. How many injustices had it taken to reach the breaking point? The wards around it felt like a dam about to burst, the pressure on the other side far beyond what Gabe could imagine anyone holding. But he recognized it, as though part of it belonged to him. How was that possible? He’d been in the ground over a decade.
“Seiran?” Gabe started to ask, but Seiran was laser-focused on the group in the clearing. They were staring at him too, hands going to weapons, and witches with a spell on their lips. There was no sign of them taking Page alive. This was orchestrated murder in the making.
“Stay close to me,” Seiran instructed as he stalked toward the witches. “What are you doing here?” He demanded of them.
“Taking down a rogue witch,” Director Han said. “His family told us of his deviance. No wonder you kept him locked away in your department. Hiding him. Your position will be under review, Mr. Rou.”
“That’s Director Rou,” Seiran corrected. “And he’s not rogue. He was coerced into creating the golem.”
“Doesn’t matter,” the woman next to Han said. “All of your kind are evil. We will wipe their blight from the earth.”
“Not on my watch,” Seiran said. “Not anymore.”
Gabe felt the shield form around him first, an invisible barrier that pulsed with so much energy it almost hurt, like standing too close to a flame. Seiran’s form changed, becoming that Green Man persona again, his hair longer, woven with ivy and flowers, things blooming around his feet as he walked unfettered toward the group who now backed up as though terrified. Had none of them seen this side of him before? Or was it the molten rage that seemed to send a shimmering flicker of light along the edge of the magic?
The ground welled up, heating and cooling instantly, forming almost volcanic rock formations as he stalked forward. Sprouts of green and pops of color forming in the rocks soon after. It was breathtaking, beautiful, and terrifying all at once. Gabe kept his shields up, the bond weak between them the only thing keeping him from rolling in the power like a cat immersed in catnip.
Seiran held out his hands, and there were guns pointed their way, as well has a handful of spells that Gabe could feel hit the walls of the barrier, spattering harmlessly like bugs on a windshield. The magic around them built, a living thing of wild energy and such naked intensity so filled with earth, that Gabe longed to bask in it. Like dirt fresh from his grave it was renewing, and clarifying all at once.
The spells and bullets hit the shield, deflecting or being completely absorbed. Each wave of magic adding to the barrier and the power like Seiran ate it all. Or at least transformed it into something he could use. And unlike the rest of the witches, he didn’t need spells. He put out his hands, made a shoving motion, and the crowd was walloped with a surge of air so strong it threw them all backward and even tipped some of the cars on their sides like he was a superhero rather than a witch.
There were curses hurled, screaming, more bullets and spells. Everyone backed away, huddling together and fixated on Seiran for the threat he was. Gabe hoped that meant Page was safe for the moment.
Their withered bond blazed with electricity and Gabe could almost touch Seiran’s power like it was his. If they renewed the bond, he could become a conduit much like Seiran was. Would he be another link to earth? Or more an anchor for Seiran’s power?
Seiran slowly backed them away from the group and into the line of trees like he could sense where Page was, and he probably could. His eyes glowed with that eerie spinning gaze of magic, not unlike seeing the actual earth turn from space, a thing of life, color, and power. Was he seeing everything? Or was this part of the spell? Gabe worked really hard not to distract Seiran as he hoped they would both somehow survive today.
The trees wove together beyond the circle of those gathered, growing and twisting together in a natural wall. Like old legends of castles surrounded by forests of thorns and impassable brambles, the barrier formed in seconds. A dome of earth
magic as Gabe had never seen in his life.
Gabe stayed close to Seiran. The power burning hot, making Gabe sweat. He clung to their bond like it was the only thing keeping him from burning up in the wake of this incredible power. He understood at that moment, what Seiran had meant about not being afraid of Gabe. This was godlike power, not only one single spell, but the strength in one being, unleashed.
“You’ll burn for this Rou,” Han was shouting.
Bullets hit their shield and turned to flowers and butterflies. Gabe had to work not to pause and admire the beauty of it. They approached the wall. Would they scale it? Gabe didn’t like the look of those thorns, more like swords or stakes than regular thorns. Many a foot long or more. As they approached the wall, the trees opened a pathway, narrow, but clear of barbs.
Gabe grabbed a handful of the back of Seiran’s shirt to keep from being left on the wrong side of the barrier. It was disorienting as they walked through, the power a roll of color and billows of energy that had Gabe hunched and clinging to Seiran like a lifeboat.
When they emerged on the other side of what had to be at least ten feet of natural barrier, and several dozen yards distance into the thickest part of the woods, they found Page and another man. As soon as they passed through the barrier, it closed behind them, and the rolling shield of magic around them vanished, leaving them in the clearing with the men, separated from the world by a dome of woven oaks so dense Gabe was certain it would take a massive number of explosions to tear through them.
From the inside, the dome seemed huge, towering into the sky, and encasing a distance of at least a half a mile in all directions. Far in the distance away from Seiran and Gabe, behind Page, was a cabin, appearing well maintained from the outside, but lines of dark woven magic were etched into the core of it. Gabe yanked his gaze away from the engraved spells, and to the men on the ground.
Page’s face was streaked with tears, and holding a gun. The other man was slumped over several feet away. Page seemed unfazed by the barrier or Seiran’s power on display. The man on the ground lay still as death, and when Gabe listened hard for a heartbeat, he couldn’t hear one. Was the man dead? Had Page killed him?
“I’m sorry,” Page said again, raising the gun, not to point at them, but to his own head.
“Don’t…” Seiran said reaching for him.
Gabe was already moving when the gun fired, and Gabe’s heart sank as he was certain he wouldn’t be fast enough. The shot rang through the echo chamber of woven magic in a booming thunder of destruction.
Chapter 23
Seiran gasped in horror when Page raised the gun to end his own life. All in the space of less than a breath, Gabe was there, taking the gun from Page, and control of the situation, though not fast enough to stop a bullet from being fired.
The shot ricocheted off the wards of trees and magic, pinging around a few milliseconds, spitting shards of wood and rippling the barrier. The sound hurt, loud and booming. Pain flared white hot, burning into Seiran’s side. Had he been hit? His hearing echoed for a minute, pain in his head, as well as blossoming in his chest.
Beneath the mounting emotions, a tsunami of energy and the rising pain, he teetered. Was he still standing? He put his hand to his side, over the pain, the lower edge of his chest, and a rush of heat and liquid poured over his hand. Fuck, he hated being shot.
It was hard to breathe through the mounting rage, but he struggled to rein it in and focus. The Goddess had a lot to be angry about, and She was more than happy to let Seiran use that as fuel, tying Her rage to each mounting injustice of his life. This bullet, while trying to save a life, was another pebble added to an overfull bucket.
The entire area was silent. The echo of the shot fading into nothing. The center of a storm, the magic growing and swirling around them. Seiran had to blink hard to see through the roll of power. His chest ached like there was too much weight on it. The bullet hadn’t gone that deep, had it? Piercing something vital? He blinked back stars and waves of darkness, though couldn’t tell if they were from the power or the wound.
Page was on the ground. Gabe holding him down, gun kicked away, but Page wasn’t resisting at all.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Page cried. It tugged at Seiran’s memory, the dozens of times in his life he’d found himself broken, lost, and without hope. Why did he keep getting back up?
“Seiran?” Gabe called; voice tight.
Seiran stood very still, his heart racing, his mind filled with endless ideas of revenge and natural disasters he could use, power pulsing in every cell. He had never let it overflow like this. Had never given Her the chance to completely take him. He had always thought She would force him to shift and he’d forever wander as a lynx, lost to the simplicity of his animal half, not that She would use him to end the world. He fought to hold back while She beckoned him to let Her have control. She wanted to use him. Instill Her will into him and tear everything apart. And if he was hurt enough to let Her have it…
“It would mean the end of humanity,” Gabe said softly. Seiran felt the words in his mind more than heard them. “This rage is not yours.”
But it was. A molten lava of burning anger as familiar as the air he breathed. A lifetime of being slapped down, shoved aside, abused, and left abandoned, had fostered this rage. The Goddess was merely an echo of what was already inside. Seiran could feel storms building across the globe, a surge of power mounting in the core of the earth as it readied itself for a massive global shift of tectonic plates. The destruction of all of it on the tip of his fingers. He wouldn’t have to do much, simply let go of his control. She would step in and complete the necessary change.
Change. Seiran had wanted change for so long, but been unwilling to be the force behind that chaos. Not anymore.
He swayed, dizzy, lots of blood lost. His arm was numb, head swirling with magic and pulsing life as the Goddess rushed to heal him while demanding his obedience. He wouldn’t die. Never did, even when he’d wanted to a thousand times. It added to his pain and rage. Not being allowed to rest, or to end the grief of being forever alone. He wouldn’t die, but he might pass out.
Gabe appeared there in front of him, reaching out blood covered fingers. Seiran blinked, disoriented by the pull of the endless swells of power and Gabe in front of him, bleeding.
“Not me,” Gabe whispered. “I’m not hurt. You are.”
Seiran glanced down to find himself bleeding, a hole neatly through the right side of his chest. The burn of a collapsed and pierced lung distant beneath all the power, but as it filled with blood his brain tried to tell him he had to do something or he would die. All alone again, to suffer and sink in the darkness, then dragged back to repeat it all over like some miserable Groundhog Day redo.
“You’re not alone,” Gabe whispered, his hands on Seiran’s face, kissing the tip of his nose. “You have the kids, your brother, your friends, and me.”
But he was going to leave again, wasn’t he? Gabe had been pulled from the ground too early, which meant he’d go revenant and people would die if they didn’t put him back. Seiran didn’t think he could handle that, not again. He’d been grieving for over a decade, tired and lonely, heartbroken by fate’s turn, and trying to put on a happy face for those around him.
All that pain added fuel to the rage. The Goddess taking hold and fanning the flames to a raging inferno. It would have been so easy to give in, and let himself dive into hate. He stood as Her scion, but also the last barrier between Her and world destruction.
Funny, he didn’t feel that important in the grand scheme of things. One lone man, happy to be hidden away from the world with his family, and wishing for the man he’d loved back, even if sometimes that hurt.
“Sei…” Gabe whispered, his arms strong as they surrounded Seiran, keeping him upright. “I’m not leaving. Look at me, okay?”
Seiran had to work to raise his head and meet Gabe’s gaze. It was blazing green with power and magic. Beautiful.
“You are beautiful,” Gabe said pressing his forehead to Seiran. “And incredibly strong.”
“I didn’t mean to…” Page sobbed from his place on the grass. “I would never hurt him.”
“I need you to hear me. Sei?”
“You don’t even remember me,” Seiran said absently.
“I do remember,” Gabe whispered. “More every day. Have you written me off completely? Was I such a monster to you?”
That stung. Gabe a monster? No. Absent. Yes. Matthew had been a monster. A monster both Seiran and Sam had survived. Sam had become a bit of a monster himself, ruthless at times, but also a squishy marshmallow inside. As a vampire he got to let the monster out often. Was it as freeing as Seiran suspected it would be? But wasn’t that what Seiran was too? A monster? Letting innocent witches die?
“You are mine. Everything to me, even if the Goddess forsook you, you’d still be mine. With or without all my memories, your trauma, and our combined power, you are mine. Can you focus on that?”
Even if he was evil? But that was a thought burned into him from a lifetime of brainwashing. What was evil? He’d caught glimpses of it over the years. It began with madness and corruption of power. He was on the edge of that now, right?
Would he ever just slaughter people for the hell of it? Probably not, at least not while he still retained control. If he gave the power to the Goddess, broke down that final barrier, would he be evil or simply a tool She used?
“If you let Her rage, what will we have left to save? What about your kids? And Page? The Goddess would destroy them too.”
Seiran’s mind swirled with too much thought. The Earth wanted everything gone so She could restart. Humanity was a blight, an error She wouldn’t make again. Destroying it was necessary, even if that meant in the end Her own scion would be forever lost. She pictured a world without people like some utopia of endless grasslands, stretching deserts, global forests, and sparkling blue oceans. And all that might have been reality, if he was willing to let Her have control. He was drowning in the tide of Her desire to destroy it all. Not his rage, though he had plenty to spare.