I hear her berating him, but I can’t face my sister slicked with Elon’s cum. After a quick face scrub in the bathroom, I shuffle to the living room.
My feisty stomach staunches our pleasantries with Elon’s demand for me to eat. I’ll admit, after the whole dom-sub Fifty Shades-worthy bedroom proclivities, the rough push of his voice trails my skin, leaving behind gooseflesh. I never pictured myself enjoying the whole power exchange during sex, but when it’s an actual shift of energy where he relinquishes himself to his ardor, sign me up.
Ranissa leads us through the stainless steel lined, maze-like halls, rambling vigorously on the extensive library and amenities. “It’s a tiny village of fortified protection in here,” she gushes. “If the apocalypse hits, we could live out our days fully stocked. Rooms brimming with toilet paper, water, cleaning products, food, and medical supplies. The lower level is nothing but solar-powered generators infused with space-age tech, so they keep this place humming for eons. Oh, aaaannnddd there are adorable little monkeys to keep us company.”
A series of sharp corners later, the greasy scent of diner food turns me ravenous. We enter a wide-open room painted a soft pale peach, with a black-and-white checkered floor. Black vinyl booths round the perimeter with cafeteria-style tables cluttering the center. Toward the back, blurring shades of pink and white keep the swinging door to the kitchen flapping. The aroma of burgers, fried goodies, and clogged arteries is heaven. Elon calls out to a passing light trail. With his hand on my lower back, he steers me to a horseshoe booth in the back corner.
Dusty and Trevor argue in low voices over an old book spread between them. Geri sniffs the air, flashing me an I-know-what-you’ve-been-doing wink, Lex glares daggers at Elon, and Parker dips fries in a chocolate milkshake before inhaling them. When I slip in the booth next to Lex, Dusty’s nostrils flair and for a split second her eyes glow red. She pinches her lids shut, and stops breathing before schooling her puckered distaste and offering me a forced smile and nod. The urge to bare my teeth at her runs roughshod. I don’t because my estrogen display would result in her snarling back. She wins this round because I don’t want her skanky pointed incisors in my skin.
Lex cups my hand. “You good?” he asks, ignoring the low warning from deep within Elon’s chest. From my periphery, I see his fangs lengthen. I rest a calming hand on his thigh, removing my other from Lex’s hold.
“Great,” I respond.
One of the pink smears pauses at the table. A sultry Asian woman, regal and gorgeous, holds an over filled tray. Faster than a blink she delivers a plate of chicken fingers, cheese curds, onion rings, a burger with everything, a soda, and a giant strawberry shake. She’s so quick I can’t make out her features before she races away.
Many faces dot the room at the various tables. Some with distinct vampire beauty, others ordinary—like my friends—but all stare at my sister and me. Ignoring their curiosity, I pop a cheese curd in my mouth, taking in the variety of vittles. “What’s with the buffet, Elon?”
“Aside from your preference for strawberry, I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I ordered a bit of everything.”
“Thank you.” I plant a slow closed-mouth kiss on his lips, professing ownership, and gratitude. It’s a middle finger to Dusty, who’s killing me with side-eyed glares. “Is it safe to talk here or do you have a special soundproof conference room away from all-hearing ears?”
“I’d like to say the sanctuary is solid, but it’s best if we confer about the mission later.”
I nod, devouring my burger.
Chapter Eighteen
After the most awkward meal, Elon leads us to a secluded wing. He crams us in a closet-size room, where the only furniture is a desk with multiple monitors and keyboard. He drags a chair from another room, seating Ranissa and me in the center of the group.
“This is the most secure room in the facility. Nothing penetrates these walls in or out. It’s been our hub for transcripting the old tomes and gathering intel without detection. My primate sanctuaries offer sustenance to Berserkers—vampires—across the globe. For each newborn made, our goal is to curb the bloodlust before it catches fire. We’ve been remarkably successful for the last fifty years, keeping the young ones satisfied while discouraging their creation. But there are those who refuse our ways. A select group we believed was dwindling is gaining steam.”
Trevor leans his hands on the desk, flicking glances at my sister and me. “It’s remarkable how there is not one distinguishing difference between you.” He shakes off his musing, spreading a map across the desktop. “In our world each species is a faction, marked by assorted colors on the map. Among those we choose a group of elders to reign. Through democracy, we vote on bylaws. An elite group of militia with varying breeds maintains our law and order. The systems work with fine-tuned efficiency. But as Elon said, the outsiders refuse to adapt. Outlaw groups are ruled with iron-fisted, blue-blooded royalty. Whether it be a king, queen or alpha, all subjects do as they are told. They execute those who refuse.”
“What does this have to do with us?” I ask. The god blood in my veins doesn’t like stillness. I’m antsy for them to point me toward something to fight.
Dusty clears her throat before speaking. “One of the originals, Carissa Dumain, has bred an army of Berserkers. She despises what we do here; believing humans’ sole purpose is food. Her goal is to populate the world with enough of our kind to enslave all who are not of supernatural blood. The few associates we’ve been able to maintain on the inside believe she intends to take over Elon’s businesses, using his procedures to turn the sanctuaries into human bloodletting plants.”
Elon places several printed pages on top of the map. “This is our translation of the prophecy. It foretells of a savior during our darkest days. Odin held ultimate authority over all beings. Our world is spiraling into chaos and absolute power corrupts absolutely. While Carissa is our main issue, we believe the militia assigned to protect us is polluted. Wathes are running amok.”
“Amok, amok, amok,” Ranissa singsongs channeling her inner Sarah Jessica Parker. Geri, Lex, and I spew a snorting chuckle, but the serious vamps in the room cock a stink-eyed raised brow. “Oh, come on, guys, everyone loves a little Hocus Pocus. I couldn’t resist,” Ranissa whines.
“What’s a Hocus Pocus?” Trevor asks. Elon and Dusty shrug.
“Right, we’ll school you in pop culture faves another day. You said something about Halloween being the date of our first mission.” I look to Lex, Geri, and Parker. “How do y’all factor into this?”
“We’re your appointed guardians,” Geri responds coldly.
“And friends,” Lex adds. “I’m at your service as a mage. Geri is your link to the wolf packs and a descendent of one of Odin’s most trusted companions. Parker hasn’t shifted yet, his animal will prove vital for brute strength.”
“Not if he turns into a field mouse,” Geri snipes.
Parker flicks her a middle finger. “We were raised to serve and protect Odin. Our Elders knew he’d resurrect young and vital. Your mother did a superb job of keeping your birth on the down low. No one suspected the split of his gifts between twins. We were on the lookout for a Thor-type being. When you arrived at Silver Lake, we recognized your light.” He lowers to one knee, bowing his head. Lex follows, and after muttered grumbling—garnering a scathing glare from Elon—Geri joins. Hands fisted over their heart, they swear their allegiance.
Uncomfortable with their show of respect, I urge them to stand. “Stop that shit. We are all equals with active voices. Now what is this Carissa person planning, and what is the significance of October thirty-first?”
Ranissa’s eyes haven’t stopped ogling the multitude of books circling the room. Her eyes pause mid-peruse, growing owlish to match the O form of her lips. Jumping from her chair she yanks the spine, flopping it open on the desk. “Norse culture doesn’t celebrate All Hallows’ Eve like the rest of us.” The rapid flip of the pages fills the room. “The closest they
have is offering sacrifice to the elves for a favor during the full moon on Halloween. It’s a rare occurrence and happening this year.” She finds the page she’s searching for. I lean closer to see her finger pointing at a lunar prediction calendar. “Actually, this year October is also a month of the Blue Moon. While there is no proof elven people exist, there is also nothing like us out there. If the rogues gain alliance with beings even more mythical than the ones in this room, all hell will break loose.”
“Odin activated you to save the world,” Trevor says.
“No pressure there,” I retort.
“Time is short. I promise we will provide a full history lesson if we survive Halloween. For now, we need to assess your new abilities and train you to use them.” Elon takes my hand. “Come.”
I grab Ranissa and the lot of us moves down the hall to a training room. A thick red and black spongy mat lines the floor, climbing up half the walls. Racks of free weights sit in the far corner, and black sparring dummies stand sentinel in the other. Weapons of all shapes and sizes decorate the area. My veins pump with adrenaline, tensing my muscles from all the possibilities. Elon orders us to sit in the center of the room. Remote in hand, he taps a button filling the space with Nada Yoga music.
He directs us through a few deep breathing practices. My legs bounce with bottled up energy. Ignoring his direction, I spring to my feet. “Elon, we don’t have time for a whole wax on, wax off Karate Kid fighting montage. I need to punch something.”
“Before arriving what were your abilities?” Trevor asks.
Ranissa explains how she could see the dead and I read auras. She does her best to describe our separation anxiety and the way we speak within each other’s minds. I add specifics about our visit to Psychic Sybil and seeing things others ignore. He questions what changes we’ve noticed since our visit to the lake. Bouncing from foot to foot, I yank up my sweatshirt, showing him the defined ridges of my stomach. Ranissa says she no longer sees corpses but she maintains the knowledge on how to connect with them, along with a large information download her brain did on the ride from campus plus her visions.
Trevor makes notes on an iPad. I’m admiring the array of weapons when the hard sole of a shoe kicks between my shoulder blades, throttling me to the floor. Before I face plant, my instincts flare to life. One hand hits the mat while I sweep, delivering a roundhouse bent-knee kick, assaulting Geri square in the chest. Her body flies backward, landing on the floor unconscious.
Fire burns my lungs but it lasts a mere moment. Raging static fills my ears. “What the fuck,” I yell, turning to kick her some more. Ranissa’s hand grabs mine. She’s still on the floor, but instead of sitting cross-legged, she’s fetal curled with only her arm extended to me. Holding her chest, she gasps for air while tears stain her cheeks.
“Jesus, what happened?” I cry, dropping to my knees I cradle her in my arms.
Dusty’s eyes shift nervously between Elon and me. “Geri wondered if hurting one of you would injure the other. Since you are essentially the same soul divided in half. I don’t agree with the way she tested her theory, but this puts a huge kink in our operation.”
My hand presses to Ranissa’s ribs as I beg the pain to return. Her sobs ebb and flow through her attempts to breathe. Geri shifts to her wolf. Larger than the average carnivorous pack mammal in the wild, her silky black fur gleams in the overhead lights, simmering with streaks of electric blue. She resembles a lightning bolt alit in the midnight sky. Groggy, she stands on her four paws shaking her head. My sister’s cries perk her ears, drawing her ebony eyes. Neck tilted, she releases a sorrowful howl. Dropping to her belly, she worms along the mat until her long snout and black-tipped nose presses against Ranissa’s.
Infuriated injustice sparks a wildfire of rage at the base of my spine. “Is this a cosmic fucking joke? Are the fates up there enjoying a merry belly laugh over their genius?” I mimic a low asshole voice, clucking a Goofy-style yucking chortle. “Hey the world’s in peril so let’s divvy up Odin’s powers. I say we split it between these two blonde girls. We know blondes are airheads so we’ll give one superpower strength, but every time she falters during a fight her sister will feel the pain. Let the humans try to figure out this puzzle box of bullshit.”
Elon sits behind me drawing me tight to his chest, he rocks back and forth. “We’ll figure this out,” he soothes, kissing my forehead.
I fight his hold, but he’s a bit stronger than me. Still gripped within the cage of his arms, my ire crawls through my veins. “I refuse to fight anyone or save anything if it means my sister suffers.”
Fangs lengthened, he pricks his thumb. “One drop will stop her pain,” he whispers, offering me his digit beaded with a drop of his vampire blood.
My hand over his, I lower it to my sister’s lip. “I wouldn’t do that if I were…” a feminine, sultry voice calls as a plume of violet smoke erupts in the center of the room. Through the haze, a woman appears. Standing around five foot seven, she wears a plain, loose emerald cotton dress, split up the middle with buttons, and strappy sandals on her feet. Inky black hair spills over her shoulders as she beelines to where we sit. Her Japanese heritage shows in her flawless light skin, high bridge nose, angled cloudy eyes, and rosebud lips. Standing over us she cocks a hip, revealing a long slim leg through the side split in her skirt. She’s not curvaceous or donning flashy clothes. Her regal beauty shines in her plainness.
“Eirika, how did you maneuver past the sensors?” Elon barks, glaring at Trevor and Dusty.
“When the Daughters of Odin beckon, I come. Now get your nasty polluted blood away and step aside, parasite, so I may show this dear child how to use her gift.”
She kneels next to Ranissa. When she reaches for her hand, I snag her wrist. Fire burns from her skin singing my fingers. Voice low, she twists her head in my direction, staring an unseeing hole in my head with foggy lime green eyes. “Unless you want her injured further, release me.”
Not wanting to add more pain to my sister, I reluctantly let go. “Who the hell are you?”
Despite her exotic looks, she speaks with no accent. Words heavy with haute, she answers, “Eirika Westergard is my name for this century, but you may know me as Eir the Valkyrie of healing.”
Chapter Nineteen
Eirika urges Ranissa to sit up. Cheeks soaked with tears, my sister’s face wrinkles with agony. “I’m okay, Nikki.” Her hand squeezes mine, but breathlessness negates her words.
“Close your eyes,” Eirika orders Ranissa before turning her foggy eyes to me. “Don’t touch her, she needs to use her own light for this.” A retort weights my tongue, but Elon’s thumb in my mouth and arms bracketing my waist snuff it. I lick the drop of drying blood, allowing his intended peacefulness to calm me. “Ranissa, find the jagged edges of where you hurt.”
She pats her shaking hands over her chest, confusion shadowing her eyes. “It’s not an external injury.”
“Inside. Block out the outside world. Turn a reflective eye internally to isolate the source of the pain. Locate its throbbing core and follow the tar-like tendrils to where the edges fade.” Without a signal or word from Ranissa, Eirika’s eyes glow neon. “Yes, that’s it, there. Imagine compressing it between your hands. As you squeeze, ring it out like a wet sponge. Incinerate the thick drippings with Odin’s fire.”
Ranissa’s eyelids flutter faster than hummingbird wings. “Good, good, Ranissa. Crush the heart of it with your minded hand, release its ash, willing it outside your body.”
My sister’s shoulders slump, her eyes open searching for mine. Green swirls in the blue depths like emeralds. After a few breaths, they fade.
Together in creepy The Shining twin-style, we twist our stares to Eirika. “Explain,” stereos from us both.
Using the tip of her finger lit with purple light, she draws an intricate series of interlocking triangles in the air. The lilac image pulses. “The Valknut symbolizes unity: three triangles representing the holy trinity of death, war, and
Odin with the knot respecting those slain in battle. You are these symbols. Nicole is the embodiment of the warrior, but what good is a fighter if they die easily? Ranissa is the yang to her yen. Without one, the other doesn’t function. What I showed Ranissa is how her core light heals her sister. With practice, she will seamlessly dispel injury like swatting a fly.”
My mind whirls, snapping pieces together. “When I fight if a sword guts me, my sister dies? What kind of fuckery is this?”
“No, Ranissa doesn’t die. In fact, if she’s fast enough, she won’t feel a damn thing. Yes, she will experience the slice of the blade, but with a single thought she holds the skill to dispel it, allowing you to never stop fighting.”
I process what she’s saying, my thoughts reeling to my hot virginity losing interlude with Elon. Oh no. No, no, no. I’m good with sharing most things with my sister, but my intimacy isn’t one. Kinda like the motto for Vegas. What happens between Elon and me, stays between Elon and me. Shit me, did she experience the pinch when he entered me? The slice of his fangs? All the pain without the pleasure?
My eyes dart to Elon, hoping his expression will ease my discomfort. No go. His down-turned mouth and wary eyes mirror my internal stress.
Nissa, I call out with my mind. Her questioning indigo blues meet mine. Um, did you feel anything earlier when I was with Elon? I ask, praying to whatever entity answers, wishing she says no.
Her hand moves to her neck. A shocked gasp leaves her lips as her eyes grow so wide her brows nearly kiss her hairline. In slow motion her hand angles down, her unblinking lids zero in on her crotch.
“Right.” Unable to face her scrutiny, I slap my hands together, detouring with a subject change. “Okay. I can’t even list the ways I don’t like it, but it can work. What happens if someone hurts her? Do I flick it away?”
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