by Marta Szemik
My heart warmed, and stability returned to my legs for the first time since I’d woken up.
My parents placed their arms around me. The pain in my chest eased as they kissed my cheeks, the gestures as gentle as if fog had streamed in a blanket around me, taking away worries and pain. I felt swaddled in love, like a newborn baby.
“It’s time we moved on, Sarah. Eric has been kind enough to let us say our goodbyes together,” my father said.
“Does this mean I’ll never see you again?”
“Never say never.” My mother winked. “You’re in good hands here. They,” she nodded toward my family and friends, “would give their lives for yours, just as you would for them.”
“I know.” I wiped my wet cheeks with the sleeve of my sweatshirt.
“It’s time,” Eric whispered. The red dots on his bandaged neck had increased in diameter.
“I will miss you,” I said to my parents.
“And we’ll watch over you, always. Your Aunt Helen, too. She says hello but can’t be here. She’s holding the doorway for us.”
I nodded, mouthing, “I love you” as they drifted backward. Their souls glowed, not because they were souls or ghosts, but because their essence vibrated with more love than I’d seen in a long time. The sun shone through the front window, illuminating their spirits. The energy around my parents tightened, shrinking. The streaks of sunlight beamed through them with increasing intensity until they disappeared in a white flash.
* * *
I lay with my hands under my head, watching the stars fall from the sky. The canopy had shrunk enough to expose the universe; drought neared.
“Do you think we’re the only ones doing the exact same thing right now?” I asked William.
“Watching the sky?”
“Yes, from a tree house, in a jungle, happy.” I smiled.
“I hope not.” He turned his head toward me.
For the first time in four years, the comfort I’d felt while at his side was the same as the first time we’d come to the tree house. The scents of the blossoms wafted around us, the pollen twirling in oval patterns. I’d become used to the high caused by the flowers; my body controlled the intake of their gifts.
“If we were, it’d be a shame.” He exhaled. “I can’t imagine anything better.”
“I can.” I smirked.
“Hmm, if I could read thoughts, I’d guess yours were the same as mine.” He propped his head on his elbow. I felt the heat of his stare.
“I can’t believe how much I missed this.” I turned on my side to face William.
“Me too.” He regarded me, pulling me closer. “You’re back. You’re finally you.”
“I know. And I’m never leaving again.”
He looked at me from below his brows.
“I am not leaving again,” I insisted.
“Good, because we need you. I need you. And the world needs a selfless leader like you.”
“You’re talking like I’m going to be the next president.”
“Never say never.” He laughed. “Why don’t we start with something more fun.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
William pressed his lips to mine. The connection was as electrifying as the first time he’d kissed me; shock waves coursed through my body. He let me control him as much as he controlled me; after all, we were no longer two halves, but two equals. The rage I’d missed when Miranda first stole my body returned as passion, and I shifted into a vampire. With William at my side, I could only think of one way to express it.
Straddling his hips, I pressed William to the floor. He shifted as well, sitting up to hold me tighter, losing himself in my body. I didn’t notice when the clothes flew off. His kisses dropped to my neck as I dug my fingers into his back. I looked up and saw a series of falling stars and thought, Today is the first day of the rest of our lives together, as two equals.
Two Equals Bonus Material
Hopeless wails drifted through the recovery ward of the prison. The cells quieted as William passed, keys dangling off the loop in his slacks. Overhead lamps dangled in the flowing drift. Some bulbs flickered as their light began dying; other had just been replaced and shone too bright, blinding the inmates who’d covered their heads under the sheets.
“I’m coming.” He comforted each prisoner, making his way toward the far end of the hall. William’s daily task to check on all inmates took him just over an hour. The warden’s schedule had been reserved for scheming, which allowed the half-breed vampire to work at the prison long enough to earn the warden’s trust as a worthy employee, yet not run into the warlock too often. When the right time came, infiltrating the facility would be easier.
The key clicked in the metal hole, and William pushed the first gate open. A paled body rested on the bed in the corner. Red streaks flowed out of his arms onto the blue sheets. William shook his head at the warden’s carelessness.
How does he expect these prisoners to donate blood once per week if he doesn’t take care of them? And where is he sending the blood if we haven’t signed the agreement yet?
William opened the bottle of water that rested on the metal stand and sat at the bedside. The inmate didn’t even have strength to twist the cap himself; none of them did.
“You need to drink.” He held his arm under the back of the prisoner’s neck, tipping the bottle toward the mouth.
Water covered the inmate’s cracked lips, and the frail man began sucking on the plastic opening as soon as the liquid entered his mouth. Like a dehydrated hiker who’d just crossed a desert, he couldn’t get enough. None of them seemed satisfied when William had helped with their recovery. The warden’s orders drained the inmates of too much blood. Drops flowed down his chin and neck, soaking the pillow.
“Slow down.” William pulled the bottle back. “Don’t waste it.”
The prisoner’s hands flew to the container, holding it against William’s strength. The half-breed let him finish.
“Richard, open your arm,” William instructed.
“More.” The prisoner’s raspy voice was barely audible as he reached out for the empty bottle.
William pushed on the inmate’s wrist to open the inside of his arm. Blood still dripped. The half-breed let out his fangs and bit the tip of his own finger. The cut would heal in seconds, but it was enough time to cover Richard’s wounds with his own blood. The hole where the needle had been inserted for way too long had closed.
He took the empty bottle and stood. “You’ll feel better soon. You can’t drink too much at once. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” the man whispered before his head plopped down on the hard mattress and he passed out. Richard was one of the few whose kind words William appreciated. Most of the inmates here came from a life of treachery and pain. The warden had used this transfer facility as his own blood factory. William promised himself he’d put a stop to the blood smuggling. The thieves the warden hired probably didn’t care for the right serums to be mixed in. Thousands of vampires had been found dead, and no one could explain the cause. William suspected the warden was the source of the problem.
He continued the routine down the hall, picking up his pace. Eric would vortex William back to the Amazon in less than an hour, just before Sarah returned from following Xander to the cave where he’d kept Xela hidden.
William had tried to limit the days Sarah saw the warlock, but he also knew that soon he would have to face his greatest fear. He’d need to let his wife come alone to the prison, when the warden would be ready to kill her.
Shivers ran through William’s body, and his fangs sprouted on their own. The risk of letting the warden think he captured William’s wife successfully seemed too great, but it was the only way to kill him. The warlock would never face off against them in a true battle, the way his brother Aseret has in the underworld. The warden’s wisdom and conniving had been his strength. Pinpointing his weakness had proven difficult. After all, someone who could disappear in
a blink would need to be ambushed. Even then, to kill him, they would have to strike without him knowing. A good distraction was key. And William’s wife was the bait.
* * *
The stars fell down from the sky more often lately, as if the night sky cried. William hid secrets from his wife, but sometimes the most important secrets were the ones that had to be kept from those closest to his heart. The guilt ate him from inside. Each lie felt like a prick that stopped his pulse. But William knew he wasn’t the only one who lied. He closed his eyes.
Why would Sarah give up her body again without telling me? He thought. Or did she?
If what he sensed was true, it would take all his strength to keep this secret as well. Why didn’t they want him to know? Were we being tested by the keepers? How long would it take for us to be torn apart into two halves again?
William was certain Sarah would tell him the truth if she could, but he also knew that his wife was the most honorable and trustworthy person he’d ever met. Her decisions, though quick and stupid, were always on instinct, and her instinct trusted him enough to forgive him for not recognizing her when her body had been stolen by the witch.
She must have a good reason to keep her secret.
A breeze rustled the leaves above. William’s eyes flew open. A stray cloud passed over the tree house, dimming the stars for a moment.
“Why do you seem to be here when you’re not?” he whispered.
Even when Sarah wasn’t with him, he sensed her presence. The memory of her kisses warmed his lips. William wanted nothing more than to keep his wife in his embrace forever, when in truth, he knew her wild spirit would roam, finding a way to better the world. Any time they spent together was precious.
William’s lips warmed, and his pulse raced. “Come back to me safely.” He hoped the words would reach her soul, wherever she was. For now, he had to pretend the witch who possessed his wife’s body was married to him, but he knew it was for the better. Sarah would want it that way.
It wouldn’t take much for William to strike and release the secrets he held. If Xander didn’t keep his distance, it would push William over his threshold. Even if the soul wasn’t Sarah’s, the body still belonged to her. He couldn’t let Xander touch his wife’s body and wasn’t sure why the shifter was drawn to the witch.
“I’m not sure I can deceive you,” he thought aloud.
The half-breed vampire wondered if perhaps keeping secrets from each other was what made them stronger and independent.
The decisions they’d made were on instinct, not emotion, and it guided them both well in life.
“To keep a secret so big . . . how can they ask me to do this?”
The aroma of aloe and vanilla floated through the treehouse. William’s eyes flew open.
I wish we could work together on this. It will test everything I believe in and who I am.
“But it’s for the best. Otherwise, we’ll never be safe. I have to protect you.” He closed his eyes. “I love you so much. Come back to me, Sarah.”
As much as he’d felt her presence with him in the tree house, it disappeared too quickly.
* * *
Having Sarah again as his wife, even as a ghost cursed to be in flesh, rejuvenated William beyond his expectations. The hour they’d spent in Xela’s old lair making love and finding each other had given him the strength he’d need to lie to his wife. He’d said as much as he could to ensure she remained strong when he passed, but still, Sarah’s unpredictable nature had him worry. William wished he didn’t have to be dishonest, but faking his death had to seem as real as possible. It had to be believable, and he couldn’t think of a better way to sell the act than a mourning wife. The only question that remained was whether Sarah would let him go.
Will she ever forgive me?
William and Sarah stood on the half-burnt bridge in the underworld. Miranda’s curse on Sarah’s ghost almost ruined the plan, but with the ruby ring in his pocket, he still had a chance to pull it off.
“Put it on. If it works, you should be a ghost again. Go,” William whispered, sliding it onto her finger.
Her hands disappeared along with the rest of her body.
“What about you? We need to get to the dungeons,” she said.
Though William controlled his breathing and kept it shallow, beads of sweat rolled down his temples. It wouldn’t take long for the seekers to recognize his smell. If he could only make it to the end of the bridge, the spot he and the twins scouted before, the plan would work.
“I’ll follow soon. I just have to deal with them.” He nodded toward the seekers.
“I won’t leave you. You cannot do this by yourself,” Sarah insisted.
It was like talking to a wall—an invisible wall that was his wife.
You have to. I’m so sorry for doing this to you.
“I can’t fight them if I have to protect you, too,” he motioned his gaze toward the end of the bridge. “Now go.”
“I don’t need protection. I will not leave you. Stay still,” Sarah’s ghost whispered.
After a minute, William heard a loud echo of a rock cascading down one of the entrances. The sound drew the seekers away from the bridge and William zoomed toward its end. Once on the cliff, a few yards away from the crevice, William didn’t care to be quiet. His objective was to ensure the seekers attacked him, instead of following his wife. Sarah now waited for him in the staircase, probably anxious to see how her husband would sneak by the hurdles of seekers.
William brushed the tip of his shoe a little harder against the rocky footing. The seekers turned around like a tidal wave in an auditorium. They took one big inhale, and William wondered whether there’d be enough of the rotten air left for him to breathe. For a split second the hall fell silent, followed by yelps and screeching as Aseret’s army attacked.
The half-breed vampire braced against the assault, shoving one seeker after another down into the flowing river of lava below. They pursued, and even when their comrades fell into the boiling river below dying, the others didn’t falter. The demons watched from farther away. William knew they would be the ones to spread the word of his death.
The heat behind William increased as he neared the brink of the crevice. The flowing lava in the river below bubbled upward, sending its spits higher each time he peeked. Seekers struck at his front.
Aware that Sarah would be able to pass into the dungeons eased his worry only a little, for he was aware that his death could potentially send his wife over the edge herself, and that’s the last thing he wanted. At least she didn’t have a body to burn, but with Miranda’s curse, who knew what could harm her fleshed ghost.
“If you don’t remember me, you will now,” he growled, shoving the seekers into the lava-filled crevice.
William would have no problem overtaking the seekers to pass through the dungeons to help Sarah look for Miranda’s body. But that wasn’t the plan. He agreed with his children the news of his death had to reach the warden. Aseret’s brother needed to think Sarah had no hope; otherwise he’d never show his true form and they wouldn’t be able to kill him.
Two more seekers approached from the side, and he smashed one into the other, sending both down into the burning pit. A third one fell victim to gravity when the other two pushed off against him. Their bodies burned before they hit the flowing magma. Black ash wafted upward on the waves of heat like feathers, along with the fresh stench of dirty socks and spoiled eggs.
William heard Sarah throw another rock to grab the seeker’s attention, but he knew it wouldn’t work. He hoped she’d continue the way he’d asked her. It was their only chance against the evil warlock.
One more step and he’d fall into the pit of hell. The heat almost burned his back. The seekers reached and grabbed at his skin, their talons slicing the flesh like scalpels. Although William’s skin would heal in seconds, the sear stung like salt poured on fresh wound.
The camouflaged yellow mist in the void below indicated the time t
o die has come. William’s toes balanced on the ledge of the crater, his heels wobbling his body until William couldn’t control his balance any longer.
Be strong, Sarah. You need to go on.
William tipped back and fell toward the burning river, and time seemed to slow. Looking up at the ledge of the crater, William saw the seekers throw their hands up in a screech of victory, then went back to their work. The spits of lava surpassed him, and William could only hope the twin’s plan wouldn’t fail. He trusted them with his life.
The aroma of honey and lemon filled William’s lungs, and the yellow mist opened a vortex below him. No one would be the wiser, including his wife. For effect, the twins had added the smell of burning flesh and woody musk as leftovers. Sarah would think he died.
Aware of the sorrow he was subjecting her to, William’s heart ached for his wife. She’d blame herself for his death, thinking she failed her entire family. Could she go on? Would Sarah overcome her grief and find Miranda’s body? Inside, William knew she would. He trusted his wife’s inner strength. Her ability to make the right decisions, even when they seemed wrong, would triumph. Stay strong, Sarah.
The heat intensified near the mist, and before his flesh began to burn, William found himself flying through a vortex Crystal and Ayer had prepared. The orange glow of the underworld turned into fresh greens and blues, all blending into one color. The smell of falling water filled the spinning funnel. When it stopped, William stood in an immaculate bedroom where the back wall was a waterfall.
Crystal and Ayer knelt on a plush carpet in the middle of the room, facing each other, their buttocks resting on their heels. Air spun around them like a tornado, flapping Crystal’s hair like Medusa’s. Ayer’s hands clutched as he contained the sparkling electricity within his fingers. Jolts of power flowed around their bodies. The children raised their arms above their heads, connecting at their wrists. A final flash of lightning spread from the point of contact toward their torso and down to the ground.