The Living and the Dead (Tyler G Book 3)

by P. S. Power

  Certainly the Vampire didn't think so.

  "That would be darling! After I have the blood? I'd hate to waste it. Here, let's sit and talk for a bit first. It seems that young Eve isn't planning a massive army of Master Vampire vassals, and is, as near as I can tell, simply supporting those of us in power. She's young yet, so no doubt that will change eventually, as soon as we go against her will too strongly. Then, that's how things should work in life. Those in power need to feel a threat is always there, hunting them, or they will drift too quickly into self-serving behavior." It was conversationally spoken, but she seemed to be the shy one about it.

  Probably having to do with the fact that Eve was kind of his buddy now.

  "Cool. One less thing to worry about. So, do you want to stay here for a while anyway? Eve is planning to hang for a bit, I hear. She's been helping me to learn Demon magic. And no, she isn't one of them. I'm not either, and I have a strange feeling that I'm more connected there than she is. You should get her to try and teach you that too. It can be useful, I think."

  The Vampire woman, who was more than that, sniffed a bit, and moved to the stove, pulling the blood from the water with her bare hand. It was only about body temperature for a normal person. For all he knew, she wouldn't have felt it even if the water had been boiling.

  Tyler wouldn't have. Really, he was kind of certain that even his sense of pleasure was imaginary. It seemed right to him, but otherwise he didn't actually feel anything, so it was likely just that Lucy had told him to feel like that. Really, he wondered if he could taste food, or anything like that.

  Except that, real or not, he could.

  Marissa drank from a large mug and didn't savor the tasty beverage particularly. At first he didn't get it, but as soon as she was finished, she stood, put the mug under the faucet and in fairly short order was pulling him off to her bedroom.

  When she spoke, her words were a bit hurried. Almost desperate in feeling.

  "I... May I do you from behind? I know that some men have an issue that way. I understand if..."

  Tyler smiled at the hermaphrodite.

  "Sure. We need some lube. Plus, after that, I get to do you that way, too. It's only fair."

  "We can do that. It's been a while. Allow me to set this up."

  His part didn't hurt at all, and felt mildly pleasurable, which wasn't going to be the case for anyone else, he bet. It was a thing to remind himself of, since other people had real pain. If Marissa did though, she didn't complain when he was doing her that way. Though he did try to be gentle with her.

  She was, after all, a friend, after a fashion.

  When they were done they both showered, since being clean was nice, and then moved to the hot tub. She'd been using it, and found it to be a wonderful thing to have at a private home.

  "I need to get one for my place, in Florida. Would you like to come visit sometime? With young Ginger, and perhaps your Shifter friend? Both are delightful, aren't they? I don't want them to think I have plans to steal you away however. Just a dalliance? If that isn't amiss?"

  He thought about it for a bit and then nodded.

  "That sounds fun. We should look into it. I can't speak for them of course, and I need to deal with a little matter first, before I go and visit people. I have an issue with a Greater Demon. She seems to think she owns me. I don't mean the one that was downstairs, either. She raised me and basically keeps me going now. The Storm... I guess my parents were her slaves? It sounds like it was a big mess, when they died. If I even know the real story."

  "That can be a hardship." Her breasts, which weren't huge, did float at the edge of the water. Her nipples were dark, which didn't match the rest of her look. Most Vampires were pretty pale, but it was clear that in her first life she probably hadn't been white. Probably from India, from the way she looked. Her nose was a bit big for instance, though it worked for her face really well. Her voice carried a slight English accent too, so that fit.

  She saw him looking, but just smiled about it. There was very little use in hiding them now.

  "You mean having Greater Demons around? Because I can see that one."

  "Rather. Still, we can only do what we can that way. You know, if we stay in the tub long enough, we should be able to stay warm for hours after. It won't matter to those like we are, but I rather wager that Calley Hale would enjoy that. All her lovers here are so chill, except for Steven." She looked a little sly then, letting that drop.

  It wasn't a shock. Calley wasn't in the band, and loved sex so much it was nearly a problem for her. That she was going to try and get with everyone there was kind of just expected. Honestly, she was probably sleeping with the entire band. The only outlier there would be Scotty. They might be related after all. Even then, Ty wasn't totally sure it wouldn't happen.

  "Yeah. That has to be rough for her. Like cold feet against her back in the winter. Poor thing. Well, good plan then. If she comes home tonight. You wouldn't think that being an Ambassador here would keep anyone so busy, would you?"

  That, for some reason, got a happy laugh. Like he was joking, and not just being stupid.

  Chapter fourteen

  Tyler found the world changed a bit after he got out of the hot tub. The reason for that wasn't what he figured it would be either.

  It wasn't that The Storm grabbed him and stuffed him in a cave or anything, which he was, kind of, expecting to happen. That, or something far worse. Given how he felt about the whole thing, he wasn't too shocked to find himself with a sudden urge to go for a nice, regular, jog.

  He'd just walked from Toronto, so he didn't need the exercise, which was, he had to figure, a dead giveaway. Honestly, when he got outside, noticed that it was starting to rain and that the wind had picked up, Ty knew that the time had come. It was probably time for him to be getting ready for whatever might come next. Still, he moved, heading away from the house at a faster rate than he would have normally.

  The rain started to fall, but didn't touch him, which wasn't impossible in real life. It was a thing that he'd seen before several times, actually. If you ran, out in nature, often enough, that sort of thing took place. This one was a bit weird, given that it seemed like he was in a ring that was following him. The ground was damp under his feet however, as he stayed dry.

  A thick curtain of gray fell around him though, the very air changing color as he moved. Where he was going, he didn't know, but as soon as he saw who was standing there, about a mile away from the house, he kind of got the general idea.

  Padding up, still dry, he saw the man in overalls, wearing a straw hat this time and dusty work boots. His clothing was clean, but looked worn, and he smiled, his blue eyes shining.

  The Archangel Michael.

  Tyler shook his head a little. It would be easy to be annoyed at the takeover, but he managed to smile anyway.

  "Or, and I mean this as politely as possible, you could just call?"

  The smile on the other man, which was beatific, got a bit larger then.

  "I know. I just don't own one of those new fangled cell phones, so had to use the old ways. I lack a physical body, after all, so I can't hold one. Not for long. It's my nature. Which is why I was sent to you, Tyler Gartner." His eyes locked with Ty then.

  "To tell me all about Angels? About time. I know nothing that way. I'll need to write up everything I can about you, in my notebook."

  "No. Not that. Not at this time. I was sent to speak about your nature. What you really are, and your part in the greater scheme of the universe."

  That sounded different than he figured it would, but he wasn't used to visits by Mike's kind of being. How would he know what kind of things the man would say? If he was actually male to begin with.

  "You mean me being dead, and a slave?"

  "That's correct, Tyler. You are dead, and you must stay that way. I will not mislead you, you have the power within you to return to the world of the living. That is a thing that you could do within the hour, if you so wished. All you
would need for that is to grab the spark of life from another, and carry it with you, to the end of your days. If you do that however, you will unbalance part of the world around you. Tainting it all with your passing. You might also learn, with little difficulty, to take such energies from the world itself, and use it to create life within you. It is not your right to do so. You are, as you mentioned, a dead thing. One without the grace of life."

  He didn't get it, but nodded anyway.

  "So I have to just stay a slave forever? I... Well, I guess I always knew that."

  The Angel nodded, but his words were both kind sounding and different.

  "You need not be enslaved. You must simply not take the mantel of life. There are other ways to power the dead. Indeed, as you are now, you could learn that for yourself. Find the line between you and your creator, and learn to use that type of power. The Rotted managed something new and unique there, but it is you, not her, that is of that thing. It, too, the power of death, might be taken from the reality you stand in. That is allowed, and while you will remain among the dead, you will have what you wish, in part. I cannot force you to take that choice, and it will not be simple or easy to learn what you need to do, but you can, if you choose. To simply give you an answer however, if you take that path, you will remain a slave. You would be forced to sacrifice the living to be free, and you must not allow that to take place, or all is lost."

  It was annoying, but Tyler wasn't really certain that telling an Angel to go fuck himself, because he didn't want to work that hard if there were easier options, was the way to make friends. Or to not be smited by the being. That might just fix things though, and keep the balance or whatever the real point was.

  "Um, so, I have to be dead? Or else... What? The universe explodes?"

  There was a head shake and a peaceful look.

  "No, Tyler. If you do that thing, take life that is not yours, millions of living beings will die, over the years. Others will sicken and not have the life they should, the taint of your passing taking from them the grace that is their birthright. That is all. You are dead, but like all others, free to choose. Also, the creation of a Greater Demon. I was told to come here and ask hard things of you, which none have right to request of another. I can do no more." Then he turned to walk away, but stopped and half turned back. Probably to be dramatic. "Though you do have a message, if you will hear it?"

  "I do? Um, thanks?"

  "Indeed. He, God, wants you to know that while it was your power that freed the water, and the stone from the wall, it was his will that aided you in your resolve to protect the child. It was enough."

  That kind of made sense, though was un-provable.

  Except for the part of things where it was a freaking Angel standing there and telling him about it. That probably was a bit of a sign, all things considered.

  "Okay. Good to know I had some back up. I don't suppose he's going to be there for me when The Storm comes? Or do I get to just go and die alone?"

  That got a laugh. It seemed kind, gentle and heartfelt. Sweet came to mind, even if the Angel did look like a farmer.

  "Tyler... You are already dead. She cannot kill you. She could, perhaps, remove you from the world, or enslave you in ways your maker does not yet know of. He wishes me to let you know that he will be there, to stand by you. Even if it's only to watch you fail."

  He laughed then too, and closed his eyes.

  "Ah. Well, that makes me feel better, doesn't it? Thanks, I guess?" When he opened his eyes, a moment later, he was alone.

  Being soaked too, because running in a rainstorm was just about brilliant.

  It didn't really influence him at all as he jogged back, which meant he had time to think about certain concepts. Like what life itself felt like. It was a thing he knew, almost instantly, he realized. It was all around him, and wanted to flow into him, if he gave it a chance. Which would, of course, remove it from people, animals, plants and even insects that surrounded him in the world.

  Like he was a black hole that drank life. It would rush to him, if he simply removed the blocks of death that held it out.

  It wouldn't kill anyone directly, but he, being a dead thing, would take more than his fair share, which would, in the end, damage others. At least that was possible, given the feeling of it. The Angel had been right. It would be easy to do, now that he knew about it. Two simple concepts, and he could be a living boy again. The idea was tempting him to try it, even if it would be harmful to others.

  Instead he trudged slowly, and tried to feel what made him work at the moment. It wasn't comfortable for him, and felt a lot rougher than the fine, truly ephemeral, sense of life did. Harder to hold on to as well. A flow of darkness, and literal death, that came in a thick and ropy line from what he had to assume was his mom.

  The blackness existed all around him too, like life. The difference was that life wanted to flow toward him, as if he were a whirlpool that was set up to capture it. Death, even though he was of its kind, rushed away from everything. It would, in some fashion that he couldn't see yet, need to be taken from the universe, and pulled into himself. On the good side, there was far more of it than there was life. It felt, when he focused on it, like it was everywhere. It just wasn't in the right places for him to use easily.

  "Which is great fun." Worse, in his body it was being pushed around, backwards through his being. Constantly ripping and repairing as he moved. Fixing things because it was made to do so, by an intelligence from outside of himself. Life did that on its own.

  So, even if he could collect the power up, which he figured that Lucy was doing all the time already, showing it was possible, he also had to work out how to run his body.

  The implications there did not make him happy. He'd thought he was a slave, and had, more or less resigned himself to it. If Lucy said jump, then he had to do it. That was, he'd thought, all. The real truth was that in order to jump at all, The Rotted had to do it for him, more or less. It was why, if he just took to eating flesh for its life he would become something very different.

  Not just a being that fed on life, but one that was mocking life, instead of being truly dead, like he was at the moment. That actually sucked. So there were two things he needed to make what he wanted happen. He had to figure out how to draw the power of death to him, and then he needed to learn to animate his own being. To lock that power into moving himself around like a puppet.

  He was, at the moment, what Zack had said. An avatar.

  At the door of the house he realized that he was going to leave a trail of water through the place, so he stripped, wrung it all out off to the side, and walked through the house naked. It could have been embarrassing, but he didn't bother with that idea at the moment. Instead he was trying to figure out how to draw the right kind of energy to him. As he changed clothing he realized that he'd seen it happening before. He simply hadn't thought about it.

  Lucy did it. All the time. So that he could keep going. What he had to do was work out how that happened, and then he'd have the smaller portion of what he was going to need.

  That part surprised him, however. When he tried to work it out and thought about his mother, he could feel her guiding him. Openly. The sense of what he needed, that death, had to be courted, rather than generated, or directed. That power wasn't like life to be ordered about by force of will. It was a fickle enemy that shyly ran from everything else. In the end he was sitting on the floor of his shared bedroom, naked, trying to convince entropy to organize against its nature, and move to his position in space.

  The whole time there was a hand there, correcting him. Inside of himself, making minute alterations to his opening attempt. It sort of worked. There was a complex field that was needed, a set of concepts that was as ephemeral as a spider's web to his mind, but when he held it correctly, a tiny bit of darkness came to him, and became part of his being.

  It didn't want to do anything, but Lucy, who was always with him, took that energy for him and used it to make him f
unction. After a few hours, sitting there, he realized that he was doing about half the work that way. The line between him and The Rotted thinned a bit, and there was a sense that, now that he could do the work, he was required to.

  That got him to smile. The trick there was probably close to what his mom used. He had to make the magical concept so automatic that it didn't take thought. That it was a subconscious thing that never faded. He didn't know how to do that, of course, but kind of got something going, about the time that Calley and Ginger came in together.

  They stared at him, and after about ten seconds, Calley started to take her clothing off.

  "Now that's the way I like it. I get to be on top!"

  Then, laughing, with him trying to hold himself together, and provide all the power he needed, if not the control of his body yet, they did things. That was fine for the moment. It was hard to keep going, being distracted, but if he didn't, he was going to stop working. Probably not die, but he'd fall to the ground and then stop functioning until he got it going again. It happened three times, which was ignored by the girls, because he got things going again almost instantly.

  It was fun though, and in the end they were cuddling on the bed as he kept working. Providing for himself, using all his will power.

  Calley kissed him gently, contented for the moment.

  "That was unexpected. Read a sex book?" She waved a little lying next to him, at his nudity.

  "Nope. I... Really, I kind of worked out how to make myself um, have un-life. I only have part of it, but most of the energy is being collected by me now. I... I can't live, really."

  He must have sounded sad about it, though Ginger faked a snort.

  "Who would want to? Super powers, eternal youth and awesome abs. You're great the way you are."

  That got him to smile at his girlfriend.

  "I love you, too. An Angel told me that I could be alive if I wanted. I'd just have to kill millions of people to make it happen. So I have to stay dead, which is way harder. I think it might be that Angels are assholes. Too bad he seemed so nice about it the whole time. I can't even hate him. Not joking, by the way. A real Archangel. Michael. I know it sounds made up." His words felt stilted, his current concept not really built to sustain itself yet.