by Greg Howard
When it finally stopped, he stared down at the floor, panting. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. A stream of light formed in the dark void of his mind. It was far away at first, then it grew closer and stronger by the second. Cooper’s heart thumped hard against his chest. The light filled his mind, blinding him from within before it dissipated completely. Cooper opened his eyes and raised his head. A shadow in the corner of the room drew his attention.
Alexander and Stephen remained focused on Randy, seemingly unaware of the new presence in the room. Cooper wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and peered into the shadows by the window. The dark mass solidified into the form of a man. Electric blue eyes seared Cooper’s skin. Commanded his full attention. A nearly imperceptible nod of Blue’s head calmed him, then the form dissolved. Cooper finally understood. Blue had been there all along, lying in wait for Alexander to reach his weakest, most vulnerable point. But Blue’s cold calculation had come at a price. Randy’s life.
Cooper’s empty stomach expanded, the contents he’d just expelled replaced with a heavy clot of death and darkness. It filled his lungs and his veins, bullying its way inside through every available pore and orifice. Blue. The spirit had taken up residence, claiming Cooper’s broken shell as its own.
He opened his mouth, and a deep, unexpected roar pushed itself out, followed by prickles of movement edging up his throat, over his tongue, and finally onto his parted lips. With his last ounce of self-control, Cooper slapped at his face, trying to extinguish the disturbing, tingling sensation. He wiped his lips with the back of his fingers, pulled his hand away, and stared at it. A slimy swarm of maggots scurried over his palm, lacing through his fingers. He gagged and shook his hand like it was on fire. His mouth still tingling, he spat out the remaining intruders. Tiny, muculent creatures fell to the floor and scuttled away.
If he would have still been in control of his body, he might have retched again at the sight. His senses were numb, his limbs no longer his own. The darkness that had resided inside him all his life embraced the dreaded new occupant with excited familiarity. His detached gaze traveled around the room without mental instruction as if taking in the scene for the first time. Alexander and Randy were a few feet away, still locked in their sickening embrace and oblivious to his internal transformation.
Someone grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him up. He was almost grateful since he couldn’t seem to do it on his own. He’d forgotten how to control his limbs. Stephen faced him and gripped his wrists, regarding him with suspicion.
A missile of pain detonated in the base of Cooper’s neck and splintered up to his temples. An assault of incoherent images exploded in his brain, filling every cerebral nook and cranny. A bizarre movie began to play on the back of his eyeballs, full of vivid and intense memories, as if they belonged to him, but they didn’t. He was lost in a parade of unfamiliar scenes viewed through someone else’s eyes.
Warfield teeming with nocturnal activity. Frantic shouts and cries of desperation fill the air. An angry mob of dark-skinned men in tattered clothing, holding axes, pitchforks, and torches surrounding him. He looks down at the axe in his own grip, hanging by his side. He leads them as they storm up Oak Alley toward the manor house, words like ‘devil’, ‘demon’, and ‘blood-sucking monster’ echoing through the dark night.
A spine-tingling scream calls from somewhere inside the manor house. They pick up the pace and burst through the front door. He rushes up the staircase and pushes into the room where he found Randy.
The red-haired girl from the picture in Lillie Mae’s Bible, Sally Parker, lies there in the bed, a swath of blood pooling between her legs. Her face is fraught with fear. A tall man hovers over her. It is Alexander. His deadly jaws are on her neck, his mouth pulsating as he sucks out her life in vulgar gulps of aggression.
He rushes Alexander, knocking him off Sally with the clumsy swing of the axe and a roar of unbridled rage. He looks down at Sally. Touches her neck. It’s too late. She does not breathe.
Field hands fill the room and surround Alexander, circling him, wielding their torches like swords. The Anakim is too fast for them. He disappears and a swirling dark cloud envelops the room, weaving through the men like an anaconda of black smoke. The men scream out in pain, dropping to the floor one by one, their throats being ripped out by unseen hands. They grab at their necks, trying to keep their heads from being severed completely off their shoulders.
Their lit torches fall and roll across the floor. The curtains are on fire. The black cloud is evaporating. The men are dead, Alexander gone. The fire spreads over the walls. The ceiling.
He drops to his knees and slips his arms around Sally’s lifeless body, cradling her, swaying back and forth with the rhythm of his guttural wails. He is distraught, overcome with grief, and he cries out in agony as flames dance high around him.
He hears a gurgled cry across the room, so he lays Sally’s body gently back down on the bed and walks over to it. He sidesteps the body of a plump dark woman lying in a pool of blood, a chunk of flesh missing from her neck.
In the basin on the dresser is a caramel-colored baby. A girl. Her face slipping under the waterline. He draws her out of the basin and peers down at her. She is breathing. She is alive. This baby. He knows her intended name because he chose it. Sarabeth. This child will one day become Lillie Mae’s mother.
He looks up and catches a glimpse of himself in the dresser mirror. It is not his face he sees in the reflection, it is Blue’s. Hardened and cragged, filled with lines of all-consuming grief.
The house erupts in a quick blaze of flames.
He clutches the baby tight in his arms and flees the room. Angry flames chase him all the way down the stairs and out the front door. Betsy is standing in dark shadows under a tree. She watches the house burn with thick red tears falling down her pale face. She is not human.
“I am too late,” she cries. “My husband. My children. I am too late.”
He places the naked child in her arms.
One final scene filled the virtual movie screen of Cooper’s mind.
He is roused by the ferocious snarl of a large dog nipping at his feet. He looks up. A large section of the big house smolders in the distance as men douse it with buckets of water. Dead bodies dot the front yard. The morning sun greets the grisly scene with irreverent splendor.
Searing stripes of pain burn into the flesh of his back. Angry white faces scream at him from below. His body sways in the breeze, cold and choking. The dog rips into the flesh of his dangling feet. He swings from the drooping branch of a spindly oak tree, a thick rope cutting into his neck.
Wind blows Spanish moss over his face like a death shroud as he releases the defensive tension in his muscles and drifts into an all-consuming black void.
Chapter Forty-Five
Stephen stared at him, mouth agape and eyes wide with shock. He released Cooper’s wrists, breaking their cerebral connection. Shoving Cooper away, he stumbled back. He had seen it, too—all of Blue’s memories that Cooper just relived. Stephen saw all of it.
Cooper turned his head, although he gave his body no such mental command. Blue was in total control, the spirit’s strength grew stronger by the second. Cooper did not panic. Instead, he released himself completely to the malevolence rumbling in his core. Submitted his will completely to Blue’s dominance.
He looked down at the entwined bodies of Alexander and Randy, their arms wrapped around each other in a lover’s embrace. Alexander dug his fingernails into the bare flesh of Randy’s back, creating multiple rows of seeping blood. Randy clamped down on the Anakim’s neck, sucking. Devouring Alexander’s essence.
Cooper was powerless to stop them. Blue had other priorities.
Alexander’s eyes drifted open and rolled back in his head. “Enough.” The sickening heat of desire laced his whisper.
Undeterred from his feast, Randy continued.
“I said enough!” Alexander pushed him away with one hand.
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br /> Randy’s body sailed across the room and slammed into the wall beside the fireplace just steps away from Cooper. He sat up, unfazed by the crash. Licking the last remaining drops of Alexander’s blood from his lips, he pushed himself up against the wall. Inches taller than before, the bronze skin of his naked torso glistened like it had been recently oiled. His muscles were bigger. Bulkier. His shoulders were wider, and his facial features more defined. He gawked at Cooper with wild, hungry eyes, as if he didn’t even recognize him. A tinge of fear sparked in Cooper’s gut. Never in his life did he imagine being afraid of Randy, but he was terrified of him in that moment. Blue, however, was not. He looked over at Alexander and rage heated him from within.
Alexander stood, rubbing the side of his neck, dabbing his own blood on the wounds. All physical traces of Randy’s attack faded at his touch. He swayed, visibly weakened by Randy’s feasting. Just the way Blue wanted him.
Alexander glanced up at Cooper. “He is not done yet. He needs human blood to complete the transition.”
The words were a jumbled mess, knocking around in Cooper’s head. Did Alexander mean him? No. He didn’t.
Tony Tanner lumbered into the room, his aimless eyes sunken in their sockets and devoid of coherence. A wide swath of skin was missing from the center of his chest where his Confederate flag tattoo once was. He passed in front of Cooper and gave him an uninterested glance without registering an ounce of recognition. Odessa had really done a number on that guy. Tony crossed the room and stood in front of Alexander, like an obedient dog awaiting its master’s command.
The Anakim nodded toward Randy. “Anthony, you will give yourself to my newborn and allow him to drain you.”
Tony nodded and walked over to Randy without hesitation, passing Stephen and Cooper without a glance.
Cooper willed his arms to block Tony’s path to certain death, but his body would not respond. Tony stood in front of Randy and cocked his head in compliance. Randy stared at the offering, his eyes filled with hungry desire.
No. Randy. It’s Tony. Don’t you see? It’s our friend, Tony Tanner! None of the words actually made it out of Cooper’s mouth. They just rattled around in his head, searching for the nearest exit as the muscles of speech eluded him.
Randy opened his mouth, and Cooper saw ivory fangs sprouting, heralded by the sound of crackling bone—the hideous bloom of Alexander’s seed. Tony stood motionless as Randy locked onto its unblemished target. With shocking ferocity, he drove his sparkling new blades deep into Tony’s neck.
No! The silent word shot through Cooper’s mind and bounced off empty walls as the man he loved devoured their childhood friend.
Randy showed no mercy, gnawing into Tony’s neck with voracious hunger, holding back none of his newborn strength or appetite. It lasted only a few moments. Tony’s body seized with violent spasms, and his eyes drifted closed. He wilted in Randy’s clutches, finally slithering out of his grip and onto the floor into a spiritless pile of human debris. Randy had just killed Tony, and Cooper was powerless to stop him.
Losing the last shred of control he had over his eyes, Cooper looked away from the horrific scene, his sights again set squarely on Alexander. Both Blue’s and his own rage ignited a fire in the center of his being. His anomalous Divinum power churned inside him. His fingertips blistered, aching for release.
Alexander moved to the window where the fading sounds of battle seeped in. He pulled the curtain back and looked out. “Jericho soldiers will be here any second.” He turned to Stephen, who had literally backed himself into the corner. “We will leave at once.”
Stephen stared back at his maker with a mix of fear and judgment clouding his eyes. He shook his head slowly.
Alexander released the curtain and turned toward him. “For God’s sake, Stephen, pull yourself together. We do not have time for your pathetic sniveling.”
Cooper took a surprising step toward Alexander and opened his mouth. Blue’s deep baritone emerged. “You will have no more of my children, Devil.”
Alexander looked at Cooper like he noticed him for the first time. Muscles in his face stiffened with recognition. He had his clutches around Cooper’s neck before Blue could command his body to react. A roar sounded behind them. Randy’s roar. He tackled Alexander, taking Cooper down with him.
The two boulder-like bodies landed on top of Cooper with blunt force. Pinned under a heaping pile of Anakim flesh and muscle, Blue made quick work of regaining control of him. Cooper wiggled out from under Alexander and Randy and sprang to his feet. Randy rolled off of Alexander, leaving him exposed and vulnerable. Blue kept Cooper focused on Alexander. He stood over him and stretched his arm out. His hand shook as he pointed down at the Anakim, his nefarious power and Blue’s dark rage solidifying as one in his core.
A cloud of black smoke roared into the room and instantly took Betsy’s form. Her hair, matted with blood and changeling guts, hung wild over her face. Her eyes were wide and panicked.
She held her hand out toward him. “Cooper! Stop! Don’t do it.”
Cooper stared at her, confusion clouding his vision. Her eyes widened as she peered into his. A flurry of footsteps drew Cooper’s attention to the door. Joshua, Rafe, and Taj bounded into the room and froze, scanning the scene with hands and daggers raised.
Without a glance at her distraught son cowering in the corner of the room, Betsy eased toward Cooper like she approached a coiled snake. “Blue. Listen to me. Let us handle Montgomery. He will pay for what he did to Sally, I swear to you. Please. Don’t do this to Cooper.”
Joshua’s voice echoed across the room. “What the hell are you doing, Elizabeth? Let him finish the monster.”
Betsy scowled at him. “You know what will happen to him if he does this!”
Cooper looked back and forth from Betsy to Alexander. Everything inside urged him to kill Alexander. He couldn’t understand why Betsy wanted to stop him. Lex appeared in the doorway, flanked by Marissa and Daria. Joshua disappeared in a blur and reformed beside Betsy, his powerful arms binding her to him. She struggled, pushing him away and hissing, but she was no match for the Manheeg.
Joshua looked at Cooper and nodded down to Alexander. “Do it. End him now!”
Propped up on his elbows, Alexander glared at Joshua. “The traitor returns. My father should have killed you in the beginning, when he had the chance. I will finish the job for him.” He opened his mouth and released a shrill wail that lasted for several seconds.
A reciprocal war cry sounded from somewhere behind the walls. Chair legs bounced off the floor. The baubles of the crystal chandelier clattered above them, swinging back and forth with wild agitation. Alexander reached over and pulled a silver lever at the base of the fireplace. The entire wall behind the hearth shook and swung forward, creaking open into the middle of the room.
Cooper stumbled back and peered into the dark tunnel. A surge of dank air rushed out, followed by a swarm of shrieking changelings.
Chapter Forty-Six
The Jericho soldiers went right to work slaying the monsters as they charged out of the tunnel. One jumped on Betsy’s shoulder. She reached back, flung it over her head, and nailed it to the floor with her dagger.
Joshua held off two at once while Taj provided him with cover from the others. Rafe, Daria, and Marissa leaped over the antique sofas, chairs, and tables, landing daggers in the tops of changeling skulls and triggering explosion after explosion of flesh and bone. Lex only had to hold out his hand at the approaching monsters, and they would erupt into flames. Odessa charged out of the tunnel chasing the horde without her team in tow.
No doubt questioning his allegiances after all he had just learned, Stephen stood paralyzed in the corner as the room fell into complete chaos.
Randy was suddenly on his feet. He grabbed a changeling’s head with one hand, wrapped a bulky arm around the neck of the beast, and twisted its head completely off. Rancid blood spewed out of the gaping hole between the decapitated creature’s shoulders
, spraying Randy’s face.
Cooper spun around on Blue’s internal command. Alexander stood before him, his eyes hard and full of vengeance. A moment of reckoning saturated the air between them as the battle raged on. With a deep, cleansing breath, Blue drew on all of Cooper’s power and sent it rushing down into his right arm. Cooper stared down his throbbing hand, as if it wasn’t attached to him.
When he looked back up, provocation twisted Alexander’s lips. “I should have drained you when I had the chance, Houngan.”
Cooper curled his fingers into a ball. He drew his arm back and slammed his fist into Alexander’s chest with shocking force. Alexander buckled, his chest caving in.
He found his point of entry—cutting through the black cotton fabric of Alexander’s shirt with his fingers and piercing the skin above the heart. He stared into Alexander’s widening emerald eyes. Blue wanted to watch the poisonous sparkle drain out of them. Cooper wanted to see it as well. He plunged his hand deeper into Alexander’s chest cavity, twisting his fingers, burrowing them deep down into the cold, hard flesh like a drill.
Alexander’s eyes bulged in their sockets, his body paralyzed into submission. With arms dangling at his side, a final sneer marked his lips. “Your whore was delicious.” He spat the words out through staggered breaths. “Every last drop of her!”
The rage inside Cooper solidified in his muscles. Within seconds, he had submerged his whole hand into the Anakim’s chest. He brushed aside the mass of thick muscle and slimy veins until he found the treasure. He gripped the dead organ and squeezed. Alexander grabbed at Cooper’s hand and wailed as Cooper pulled the miry mass toward him, errant magic fueling his extraordinary strength. He wouldn’t have stopped even if he had the power to do so.
Alexander’s widened eyes turned from green to gray in an instant. He parted his lips and black liquid spilled out, trickling over his jaw and down his pale neck.