by Unknown
"I did. She still isn't moving."
"Let her sleep," he said. "I cannot abide the sound of that voice."
I bunched my shields, chomping down on my flash of hate for him. He thought I was out cold. I had to use that as an advantage.
As I drew in my barriers, I felt an intrusion, like a splinter under the skin. Her spell. It was a line that had perforated my shield and kept its grip on my will. The spell gleamed like new razor coil and felt just as solid.
My phone rang. I opened one eye enough to see Dierk's picture came up on the screen. A picture I took that night at the bowling alley. I'd doodled on it, adding a lopsided crown on his head. It rang until it went to voice mail. Find me, Dierk. Please.
Then it rang again, a loud insistent brrrrring. Not my usual ringtone. It rang three times without a contact or caller ID before it stopped.
Caen growled. "Get that damn thing and throw it out the window."
I shut my eyes just as she reached over the seat. If I had control of my legs, I'd have kneed her in the face.
She strained her hand toward the floor but to no avail. "I can't reach it."
"Fine. Just—here." Caen sent a compulsion to her, a stream of power I felt even through my thickest barriers. Her empty feeling subsided, and she momentarily pulsed with his essence. He must have given her a wallop because she laughed, giddy on the sudden surge of power.
I braced myself for a squeeze but instead I noticed I could shift my elbow. She'd been distracted by Caen's transfer of power. I remained still, waiting for a plan to show up and save my behind.
"Do you think this will really work?" Her voice was stronger now.
I heard the unmistakable sound of a soda bottle being opened, the hiss of fizz. She paused and swallowed noisily. I wanted to pinch her. Her and that damn Dr. Pepper.
"Of course it will. You've felt what happens when we focus together. And you remember how easy it was to do it before, even without her help." Caen laughed. "I never imagined I'd experience such strength."
"And—" he added, "once we get to your priestess, we can salvage the oracle and complete the machine. It will work. It will not fail."
The machine. I'd heard that before, didn't I? Where, where, where—I filed back through my recent memories, like flipping pages of a book—
A book.
A dusty old book with spotted gilt pages.
A hand-drawn diagram that had been altered by unfamiliar handwriting.
L'apparreil.
A new dread seeped into me, like cold ooze sliding down my neck, chilling me inside and out. I no longer felt my heart beat—instead, I was filled with an odd calm, a certainty, a destiny foretold.
Badness wasn't coming. Badness was here.
"I don't know what she'll say." Jasmine's voice was shadowed with doubt. "I still don't think she'll go along with it."
"Listen, she is just as hungry for knowledge and information as we are for the power itself. She'll be wetting herself to get in on this."
"If you say so. But there has to be another way to salvage the oracle," she said.
"Why should there be?"
"Because your way is savage. It's going to come back on us, in a big, bad way. I took a vow, Caen. "
"Listen, sweetheart, you left your vows scattered all over my bedroom floor when you offered yourself for this." His voice was dark and oily. Caen stretched his arms along the back of the seat to massage her shoulders, kneading the muscles. He seduced her with another pulse of compulsion. She made a tiny sound and laid her hand against his.
Ew. And, what a dick.
She keened. "But this is wrong. I know what I did with you and I accept those consequences. And I'll do it again and again. But her—it's wrong. There has to be a way to extract her power without causing permanent damage."
I did not like the sound of that. I knew Caen hated me, but what was he planning to do to me? My heartbeat thumped along an adrenaline surge. Damn my autonomic nervous system.
"Quiet," he said. "She is waking."
I cracked my eyes and took as deep breath as I could. Still pinioned, although not as tightly.
"Caen." I mumbled, trying to sound weak. "What are you doing?"
"Just what I've longed to do since the day I met you." He smiled once more in the rear view at me. "I'm going to kill you."
The deafening thump-thump-thump of a helicopter passed overhead. Were we near the air base? How long—or how fast—had we been driving?
Jasmine craned her neck to look out the window.
"That's only a traffic chopper." Caen spared only a glance upward. "Don't get distracted."
The chopper circled back over toward our direction. It sounded like it was directly overhead. I hoped it really was a traffic chopper and that cops would jump out to give him a ticket. And an ass-kicking. Did the police still carry batons? I hoped so. The sounds of Stop resisting me! and the crunches of Caen's nose against a billy club would be really awesome just about now.
Caen took another turn as if he believed we rode on rails. Blowing the stop sign, he sped to an underpass and skidded to a stop.
The chopper made several passes. No doubt they were very interested in us.
"Who is that?" Jasmine's grip on me wavered.
"I don't know, but I'm not waiting to find out." He took off, the sun over my left shoulder, onto a stretch of road, winding and tree-lined. "Contact your priestess. Tell her we will be delayed because I was forced to detour."
The chopper found us once more. I squirmed as much as I could so I could look out the back window. It hovered only a few stories above us. A man hung out of the open cabin and pointed at us.
I couldn't wave my arms, or do anything but wiggle my eyebrows at him. Not knowing who they were, I sent a desperate pulse of power, hoping someone would realize I was in danger. Hoping they weren't out to kill me on their own.
I wasn't sure if Caen saw the man. "Holy crap! They're going to crash into us!"
"Shut up!" Caen shoved at Jasmine. "Hit her, now!"
She obeyed. I felt the impulse of her curse, a squeeze around my throat. It was the same sensation I'd felt before, when I thought it was anaphylaxis and Dierk called in the witch to examine me—it was her, all along.
My sight dimmed. Their words came through in muffled waves. My pulse pumped in my ears.
"I can try a spell to confuse the pilot," Jasmine said.
"Let them follow. They can get tangled in the trees."
A heavy object crashed down on the roof of the car. Jasmine screamed and ducked, completely dropping the spell. Free of her hex, I bunched my barriers before she could reestablish her grip. No bullshit witch would ever spellbind me again.
Whatever hit us wasn't stationary. Something pounded over and over. With a crunch, the blade of an ax crashed through the sunroof.
Caen cursed and swerved the car, jerking the wheel side to side in an effort to dislodge the assailant. Who? I didn't dare stretch the tight shell I'd coiled around my essence. I might weaken the wall I tried to keep between myself and the witch. I dropped to the floor, putting as much distance between my head and that ax.
The sunroof shield was torn back and we were pelted with chunks of glass. The hands that reached down in weren't hands.
They were elongated claws, the hands of an animalized human. I'd seen those claws before.
The witch screamed and cowered against the door. Caen swerved again to the far side of the road. When he crossed over onto the berm, the front wheel caught in the soft earth and stumbled the car. I knew with perfect clarity what would happen next.
This is what it feels like to crash, I thought.
Everything lurched to the right, inertia at its finest, and I slammed into the door, sliding up to see the ground rush up to meet the side of the car. Air bags exploded into fluffs before deflating into white puddles. Unrestrained, I was tossed like a lottery ball. I couldn't brace for impact. I crashed and rolled right along with the vehicle. It all happened so slowly I noted every detail a
nd so fast that I never had time to be scared.
The car abruptly stopped, balanced on its side.
Dazed, I watched Caen disappear out through his window. He slipped up and out like a serpent, just slithered out. His screams sounded like a wild beast—rage and destruction and so much power. Namesake, I remembered. He had been aptly named Power and his DV power burned at me, scalding as it always did, hot and sharp. My shields, weary but intact, kept my soul from being shredded by his lust for pain. But it still burned, leaving my mental nerve endings raw. Caen wanted to kill.
And then—
He just disappeared.
The girl lay crumpled and drooped over her shattered window. I reached for a pulse. Weak. I scrambled to reposition myself trying to see her better.
Jasmine coughed, pink froth collecting at the corners of her mouth.
"Ray." Her voice was paper-thin. "A ray."
"Oh, no you don't, Jasmine," I said. "Do not go to the light. Stay with me."
She seemed to see me then, her eyes wide and rolling. She coughed again, a wet sound. More pink foam.
"Don't talk." I tugged her hair away from her face. "I'm going to get help."
"Leah…" Her voice rattled, and she stilled.
"Leah? Who is that? Do I have to find Leah?"
Jasmine didn't answer.
I shifted my knees and stuck my head out through the missing sunroof. My shoulders would fit. I pushed my way through, scraping my legs, and used the car to pull myself up.
Searching, I looked for someone, anyone. The car had gone down into a ditch and we were half-hidden by bushes. I wanted to call out but I didn't have a voice. It wasn't a curse. It was the aftermath of trauma.
The road above. Had to get there. I tried to scramble up the hill but slid with each step. It was steep and my head hurt and my arms were bleeding and I saw Caen's body. A quick glance told me there was no point feeling for a pulse, even if I managed to identify a pulse point.
Mangled. He had been ejected from the vehicle and must have gotten shredded when the car rolled on him.
No. Wait. He wasn't ejected.
A loud rush of sound drowned my thoughts. Confused, I sat down in a heap, avoiding looking in the direction of his body. I felt helpless and worried and I needed someone. I should to call someone. 911. There's been an accident.
My phone was in the car and I just didn't even want to get up to look for it. I panted, trying to catch my breath.
A voice called out, conquering the pulsating noise. "Sophie!"
My head wobbled like a new-hatched chick. My someone was here.
Footsteps crashed through the brush on the far side of the car, crunching through the dried leaves. Dierk, running to me, dropping to his knees, feeling my limbs, checking my head, pulling me against him as if he'd decided nothing was broken.
I sagged against him, my knight, my savior, and laughed. Just laughed until the tears came.
"You found me." My voice was muffled by his shirt.
He drew back and held my face. "I'll always find you."
"I had an accident, Dierk. I'm sorry." I pointed without looking at Caen's remains. "Caen was driving. He's over there."
"I know, dear heart," he said. "I put him there."
I shook my head. "No, not you. There was a witch. She's inside."
Dierk stood and walked over to the car, looking through the windshield. Then he reached in. I couldn't see what he did. Finally, he came back to me.
"Here's your purse. Your phone and wallet are inside it. I didn't see anything else of yours."
"Oh." I took my purse with numb fingers, fumbling at the straps. "I should call 911. Right?"
"No. Our help is here."
That weird pulsing noise grew impossibly louder before I saw what made it. The helicopter passed overhead and came to rest beyond the rim of trees. Dierk scooped me up and carried me over to the whirly bird. Janssen and Olberich slid open the hatch. Leaning out, they each hooked an arm under each of Dierk's and pulled us up into the cabin. They slammed the doors shut and we took off. The dip and the tilt combined with the dizziness from the accident and I leaned over, away from Dierk, and was gracelessly sick.
I wiped my mouth and tapped the pilot's shoulder with my clean hand. "Sorry about your bird."
Dierk pulled me back up onto his lap, cradling me against his chest. The noise was crazy loud but I could tell from the rumble in his chest that he sang to me.
I fell asleep, feeling utterly and completely safe.
Waxing gibbous | moon 99.85% visible
Saturday morning. Full moon day.
I slung my beach bag over my shoulder, wincing when the strap slid against a tender spot on my back, and closed my bedroom door behind me. It was a difficult moment. Was I closing a door to my life forever?
Maybe I already had.
The night before, Dierk had delivered me home, just as he'd promised, literally handing me over to Rodrian on the porch. I'd still been half-asleep and Dierk had carried me from the car. As tired as I was, I felt the gentleness with which he'd carried me and placed me into Rodrian's safe embrace. Dierk had leaned down to brush a tender kiss on my forehead before turning away.
Rodrian didn't stop him from doing it, either.
Rode and I slept together on the big red couch in the den, his arms snug around me, holding me close. No talk, no sass, no smexy teasing. We were both too tired and too far past those things. Tonight was a night for healing and for shelter and for taking comfort from the ones that loved us best. I awoke several times during the night, headachy and disoriented and he gently shushed me, stroking my hair until I settled.
When I woke, the couch was cold. He was gone.
Maybe it was better that way.
I padded down the long hallway, pausing at each window to open the heavy drapes. If I didn't come back, they might stay shut forever. What a terrible thing, for a hallway to hide from sunlight.
Dierk hadn't told me what to pack. He said it was just a night in the woods and I wouldn't need more than whatever I usually lugged around in my purse. He also used a tone that implied I normally carried enough for a long weekend. Men just don't appreciate the convenience of big purses.
I stuffed it just in case. I also left Euphrates' cat crate by the front door. Were or not, my cat was going if I was going.
At the top of the stairs, I paused. A rift of power had rolled across me, thick and unfamiliar. And huge.
Suddenly, I wasn't worried about what I had in my bag.
The power was large and roiling, like a barrel of fish. It churned, it moved, and it was looking for me. I could sense the expectation that crowned it.
And it was coming from the front of the house.
An incoming text alert made me jump. Dierk. Come out to the car.
Really? Here I was, on my way to meet the end of my humanity and he couldn't even walk to the door?
Please, came a second text.
With a huff, I marched back to the window and looked out. Between the weird power and the weirder text I wondered what other surprises I'd find.
I certainly didn't expect to see what I saw.
I ran down the steps, yanked open the door, and stared in disbelief at the crowd standing on my lawn. Demivampires, all of them, filled the entire yard—and I'm talking arena sized here. There had to be thousands of people out in front of my house, pressed up against the edges of the porch, standing in the fountain, wrapping around the sides of the house, down the driveway—everywhere. Dumbfounded, I paced out onto the porch.
A murmur rippled through the crowd. I heard them say my name.
Sophia. Sophia.
They'd all come to see me.
Several people close by reached out for me. The power swelled, pressing on my barriers. I drew inwards, a reflex, before catching myself. This might be the last time I stood here with the ones I'd come to call my own. I couldn't remain apart from them.
Taking a deep breath, I let my barriers slide down, disrob
ing my core, letting the Sophia slip free. I unfurled my essence and spread it out, touching each one. I recognized some of the DV when I did—not their faces, but the timbre of their power. I opened my arms, closed my eyes, and touched each one.
Their sorrows, their regrets—I drained it all away, replacing it with a glow of my own. That glow sprang from a well inside, one they themselves had unknowingly filled—these strangers who validated me simply by needing me, these Demivampires who had given me a place in their world when I'd completely forgotten how to fit into my own. If this was the last time I could give something back, I was going to give every last piece of me.
And I'd do it the right way—standing here with them, looking into their faces, brushing my fingers against those outstretched hands. Not hiding behind a pen and paper or a magazine column, through words and wards. No substitutes.
Gratitude and genuine love for the DV created a glow of power that I poured into each person I touched. I blinked back a wash of tears, knowing that this was the proper way to honor Marek—to do what he'd only dared to dream about. If I did this for anyone, I did this for him—because without him, I might still be a lonely part-time bleeding heart who had never learned to love again.
Marek had made me a survivor. I had to do the same for each of these Demivampire who believed in the Sophia and her redemption. I would show us all that Marek did not live in vain.
I took what was hurting them and left each one in comfort, as best as I could. Unlike the first time I'd gotten submerged in Rodrian's power, I didn't become overwhelmed—I didn't drown under the massive force. I swelled with renewed strength because I was taking one last shot at the destiny I thought had been mine.
My spirit found buoyancy and I glided upon it, a crest upon the wave, and I sought every last Demivampire who had come to see me off, perhaps the last chance to see their Sophia. I spun my barriers out and cast myself into their essence, spreading my Sophia far out from my body. The power breathed and I breathed with it, an inhale upon the exhale, symbiotic, seamless. I was one with my Demivampire. This was where I should have been all along.
The crowd opened up, and I walked down the steps. They parted as I moved, closing behind me, leaving me in an empty five-foot radius. I kept walking, slowly, continuing to reach out to touch as many as I could. That's when I bumped up against a power I'd come to know very well and my breath caught, my heart seized the next beats with a wrenching grip.