Approaching Storm (Alternate Worlds Book 2)

by Taylor Leigh

  The dragon circled, eyeing for an opening, watching Roth’s change with wary interest. A long, grim smile pulled along his mouth.

  He lunged then, ripped at the entity’s bony body until Roth spun him away forcefully. Marus landed hard, shaking his head back and forth, snarling low. He lunged yet again, snapping so hard Sam’s jaw hurt from the sound. This time he was not so lucky. Roth’s foot connected with his chest. There was an awful thud and the dragon was on his back, flailing, wings floundering.

  Sam was aware she was screaming again, running forward with no plan.

  Marus had managed to right himself and was growling like a mad dog, his body hunched low to the ground, tail twitching back and forth. He let out a terrifying roar of challenge, throwing out his wings, spewing fire.

  Across the room, Tollin was fighting against his own Daemons, shouting at Marus before being knocked back by a huge spiderlike monster.

  Marus snorted fire. His eyes blazed. She could see the muscles bunching in his haunches.

  He was going to jump, Sam thought. She slipped to a stop, held her breath, unable to do anything. Her heart ached in her chest. She was useless! Bloody useless!

  Roth swung open his lower jaw and let forth an ear-bleeding screech of defiance.

  With that, Marus leapt, reminding Sam of a big cat. He hit Roth hard, smashing him to the ground, beating his wings down against the creature in a hurricane. Roth screamed, thrashed, grew in size; body stretching to envelope the dragon, twisting around him like some microbial invader. Marus clamped his jaws around Roth’s head and squeezed.

  Through the crush of flesh and blackness, Sam could only see flashes of the struggle. The Darkness was still mutating; frame snapping and stretching around its attacker, like monstrous coral. The dragon could barely keep up with pushing past and blocking the rapidly stabbing protrusions that tore past him.

  And then, from the centre of the fight, a terrible spike of bone burst from Roth’s torso like a horn, ramming forcefully straight up and through Marus’s exposed chest. It didn’t stop. Didn’t stop growing till it erupted out of Marus’s back and went climbing upwards like a thorny tree.

  Marus’s mouth dropped open in mid-snarl; eyes going wide. He jerked free from the spike in shock, the gaping wound in his chest immediately spurting a steady stream of coppery, sparkling blood.

  The dragon thrashed backwards, no longer in control or aware of what stood behind him as he staggered around the room. The jagged wound was a tatter of red flesh and stringing viscera, and though Sam knew little about such things, her heart went cold, because she knew there was no surviving such a thing.

  ‘No!’ she screamed his name but had nowhere to run. She’d be crushed beneath his feet if she even tried to get close. He couldn’t seem to stop himself.

  Marus stumbled drunkenly, head lowered till it almost dragged the ground and let out a warbling, pained cry. With that he tripped, pitched forward, legs collapsing beneath him, and hit the ground.

  He landed within inches from Sam and she froze, staring directly into his midnight blue eyes. The bright fire behind them was dimming already; doused by loss of blood. She could see her reflection, stunned and teary. Those beautiful orbs shifted to sleepily regard her, pupils widening slightly, as if trying to take more of her in. He let out another deep chested moan and his nostrils flared. The last warm, living breath left him in a gentle whoosh and Sam watched, numbly, as the light died from his eyes.

  She looked up, tears clouding her gaze. Tollin was standing across the room, frozen. The Daemons were too. Water and blood were starting to soak through her trainers. She stared at Tollin, chest heaving. Roth still stood between them. Sam couldn’t run to him.

  The stone buckled and shone with a bright red light and then something started swirling above it like a giant disc, or perhaps a whirlpool. The window grew wider and wider, spinning like a top. And with it the wind picked up, pulling at Sam’s hair and clothing. The Daemons, who had seconds before been swarming Tollin now went scrabbling towards the portal in a mad dash. Behind Roth’s body, the black cloud of the Darkness was starting to plug tendrils into the swirling mass. Sam wondered if the thing could actually be in two Realms at the same time, as it appeared to be attempting to do.

  Though the Darkness was just an emotionless mass, the body it was occupying was not. And it was failing rapidly, thanks to Marus’s last attack. Roth was stumbling, clutching at his head. Disturbingly enough, no blood pumped from his new wounds, only black smoke.

  Sam backed away from him, shaking. Revulsion welling to the surface. She could taste the acidic sting of bile.

  ‘It’s over, Roth,’ Tollin growled, expression absolutely blank. ‘Your body is dying. Dragon venom. You can’t stand against it. You have nowhere else to go.’

  Roth cast about, snarling, stumbling, coal eyes leaking. Then he looked at Sam.

  His jaws creaked as they slid up into a makeshift grin. She watched as his body fell to the earth in a useless heap, nothing more than a discarded suit.

  Then something hit her hard, like a gust of wind. And everything went black.

  Chapter Fifty

  Darius grinned as the pressure levels started to drop.

  ‘We did it! Brilliant!’

  Andrew let out a noise that was none-too reassuring. ‘It’s just self-sustaining now. You haven’t turned it off. Now, you need to—’

  Something from above exploded through the dome. A great ribbon of black energy. It shot down, straight into the generator, shaking the entire structure. The power cables that stretched out of the dome and down to the base glowed with red light. Everything started to vibrate and whine.

  Darius froze. He thought he could see something through the ribbon, which was starting to spin. The image inside the cyclone was a room: dark, with a great, round, red stone. And there, standing at the centre was Sam. He cried her name in surprise, but she didn’t see him. He wasn’t sure she was even aware of him. Something else beyond his limited view had her attention.

  ‘Come on, man! You need to concentrate!’ Andrew was yelling over the noise. Darius glanced down at the screen. Andrew was squinting, hands over his ears. ‘You need to turn it off!’ he roared.

  Darius stared up at the ribbon again. Something was leaking through it. For a moment he couldn’t make it out, and then his stomach disappeared. Oh, gods—it was the stuff Arkron was fighting. The stuff in that bloke, Roth.

  A great black cloud of the stuff was filling the room, blocking out his view of the strange surroundings of the other place. His insides started to freeze. He tore his gaze away and dashed back to the control panel. ‘I—It’s already connected. We’re too late.’

  ‘You’re not too late,’ Andrew huffed. ‘You’re not too late until those things start coming through. Arkron?’

  The side screen was silent for a moment. ‘We have an established connection but nothing’s coming through yet,’ she said, baffled. ‘There’s too much power. The chair is gone, nothing but twisted metal. The generator must be dividing the main portal, thanks to the meltdown it’s having. Neither one is forming fully. It’s trying to open at the point of the most power, which is supposed to be the chair; now that the generator is going into meltdown it’s confused, splitting. Opening in two spots. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It will tear this place apart!’

  ‘You, get over to that control panel and shut it off!’ Andrew snarled to Darius.

  There was a loud bang and Arkron swore. ‘Oh, fantastic, we’ve got stuff bleeding through. Keep sharp!’

  Shapes were starting to materialise around him. Faint outlines of human forms were popping up everywhere and as the ribbon grew brighter, so did they. Darius, unable to stop himself, stumbled towards one of them. It was a woman, perhaps in her thirties, and he recognised her.

  ‘Mrs Turner?’ he asked, holding out his hand towards her strengthening shape.

  He had never seen Sam’s mother in real life, she had died long ago, but he’d seen images
of her. He turned around in a tight circle. The generator room was full of such shades. Humans of all ages were starting to cluster in the room.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Darius cried in wonder.

  Andrew’s voice had gone quiet. ‘Oh…they’re ghosts…they must be reacting to the generator and the anniversary. It’s making them visible to normal humans.’

  Darius moved closer to Sam’s mother. She watched him with sad eyes. She looked so similar to Sam. It sent chills down him. ‘Mrs Turner, can you hear me? Are you all right?’

  She didn’t respond.

  Andrew sighed. ‘They can’t hear you. They’re not technically part of this Realm. They’re nowhere.’

  The room shook again and Darius stumbled. He looked back up at the ribbon-like portal, wide-mouthed.

  The inky black started to leak from its hovering cloud. It hit the ground like thick smoke and went to snake around the room in quiet circles. The ghosts started to shift and cry. It was a horrible noise. Mrs Turner drifted closer toward Darius, as if he could do something. He wanted to grab her hand, but she was insubstantial. He gave her a pained look. Panic was starting in the crowd. It was a true human cry, yet so much more sad, terrified.

  Their fear was starting to infect him. The way that thing was languidly drifting around the room, reminding him of one time when he’d been young and seen a film about sharks.

  ‘What is this stuff?’ Darius cried, jerking away from it in a wild panic as it slid closely past him.

  ‘You’re in the netherworld, this whole compound is. Anything can happen in there. The power between Realms is incredibly creative. Anything goes. You might as well be in a different Realm right now. One that doesn’t exist,’ Arkron explained.

  ‘Great!’ Darius moaned. ‘Just what I need. Are we stuck here?’

  ‘Not for long. Once the stars align then this Realm will be the same Realm as the one it’s trying to connect to. The Daemons will break through then. Are you seeing Daemons?’

  Darius shook his head. ‘No! Ghosts and this…black stuff!’

  Arkron went quiet. ‘Damn! The generator must be attracting everything to it. Andrew? Can you communicate with them?’

  Andrew growled unhappily. ‘No. I need to be physically present to contact the dead. I’m too far away, both in Realms and time.’

  The noise and crying grew worse.

  ‘Why are they so scared?’

  Andrew clamped his hands to his head. ‘Don’t worry about them at the moment! You need to turn that generator off. That’s the only way you’re going to be able to save them. Hurry!’

  Darius started moving. ‘Save them from what?’

  Suddenly, as quick and as cold as a snake, the dark cloud lunged for one of the ghosts. It wasn’t even a violent struggle. The ghost didn’t scream; it was simply swallowed by the cloud. For a brief second the darkness hovered over the spot, and then it lazily drifted away. Darius gaped in horror. The ghost was gone. In its place was a horrible, twisted shape. It was spiny, mad-eyed, inhuman. It let out a horrible roar and stretched its body out, snarling.

  Panic flashed through Darius, momentarily blinding him to everything else. ‘What’s it done to him?’ he shrieked.

  Andrew’s voice was cold and flat. ‘It’s feeding. Just keep clear of it, and the by-products.’

  ‘By-products?’ Darius stammered.

  ‘They won’t hesitate to try and take over you. Just keep your mind strong, if that’s possible.’

  The spiny creature started towards him. All around, the dark cloud was making quick work of the rest of the ghosts. Darius turned to Sam’s mother. He waved her towards him, knowing she couldn’t hear. ‘Stay close to me!’ he cried. ‘Don’t let that stuff touch you!’

  He didn’t know if she heard him or not, but she drifted after him slowly, along with several others.

  Darius dodged to the control panel when something beneath him gave way.

  Arkron’s words, reminding him that anything could happen, ran through his mind.

  He stumbled as the ground tilted, dropping dramatically. With a frustrated cry, he rolled away from the panel till he hit the far wall of the dome. The whole place was tipping, like he was on a ship in a storm.

  More and more Daemons were coming to life around him, transformed by the hungry black cloud. A great, spiny crab slipped down towards him. Darius scrabbled against the wall—which was now the floor—and swiped up the handheld. He very vaguely heard Andrew complain about becoming motion sick.

  The room was crowding fast. Strange creatures of different appendages and sizes were bursting to strong life all over, shrieking and screaming. And they appeared to be growing stronger—and angrier. Darius dodged around them as a great fly-like creature burst into existence and started darting around the dome wildly.

  Mrs Turner was still with him, but Darius didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to keep her close. The Darkness was running out of souls to devour and was circling more tightly. How long till it came for her? Or him?

  The ground was shifting again and Darius broke into a run, clawing his way towards the panel. As the floor pitched forward it gave him momentum—but not nearly enough. Something slippery snaked around his leg. Darius lost his footing and fell, chin cracking on the floor. More hands fell on him. He crawled forward with a roar as jaws clamped around his ankle. Andrew was shouting at him to get up.

  His body buckled; there was too much pressing in; physically forcing itself under his skin, making his brain go fuzzy. He stumbled onwards, drunkenly, determinedly and at long last, grabbed hold of the panel.

  His state was none-too-good. There was something alien pumping through his veins. He choked as his breath was crushed from his lungs. An acidic taste flooded his throat and mouth.

  ‘Keep your will strong! I know you’re not exceptionally intelligent but try!’ Andrew ordered. ‘They can’t possess you unless you let your defences down! Don’t allow that to happen, no matter how much they frighten you!’

  The ground shook wildly in the throes of another earthquake.

  He gasped for Andrew to tell him what to do. The screen on the handheld was cracked. Andrew’s words were lost in the cacophony of noise. Darius clung to a wheel on the control panel for dear life as the beasts around him pulled him back with all their might. This was it, this was the end.

  In desperation he raised his eyes to the ribbon of energy; to Sam. He could just barely make out her small form through the elbows and fur and claws that surrounded him.

  She was standing firm, shoulders back, hair blowing. Looming over her, casting her into shadow like some menacing bat, was a great black cloud. It towered impossibly high. Why she wasn’t running, Darius couldn’t understand. It stretched beyond his view, only to suddenly disappear.

  And Sam stumbled like a ragdoll.

  * * * * *

  For a confused moment, Sam didn’t understand. It didn’t make sense, why Tollin was shouting her name, why her mind was so foggy.

  She had a vague sense of stripping; of leaving bits of her behind. One by one her senses were peeling away. Whatever tether a consciousness had to a body was being unwound, and Sam was left to drift. From somewhere in her head a new force had risen, and it sent her backwards, caught in a current to the far reaches of her awareness. Something else was there in her mind, pushing her back with the strength of a tidal wave.

  Sam hadn’t imagined it possible to be violated in such a way; this invading energy leaking into every corner of her mind, her body, writhing its way through her like roots in the ground. It was nothing like her mental connection with Tollin—the gentle presence that was always a soft hum in the back of her brain, staying politely out of the way—this was everywhere, forcing, groping, controlling everything that was her. And it kept coming, forcing its way into her until she thought her head would burst from the pressure. Her body couldn’t sustain this. It wasn’t made to.

  Sam struggled uselessly to regain any thread of her senses. Her hea
ring had turned to a distant echoing and she wondered if perhaps she had sunk beneath the rising water. Sight kept clouding up and clearing, hazy like black smoke. It was a fight for every snatch of vision, or hearing, or smell; those few senses exploded in her mind, always a surprise: Daemons racing past her, the thundering of water beating against the door, Tollin screaming at her.

  ‘No!’ he was dashing her way.

  Her eyes were no longer her own, and had no interest in looking at Tollin. Sam threw all of her will against the thing in her head to keep her eyes on him.

  Tollin was shoving aside Daemons, yelling at her, fighting his way towards her through the throng. Sam wanted to run to him but was held fast. Feelings she couldn’t explain or want were racing through her. Emotions that weren’t her own: Crippling anger, cruelty, hatred, fear, and a crushing, insatiable hunger.

  Tollin was almost to her and dark anticipation rose to meet him.

  Panicked confusion filled her at the sense. What was happening? She needed him to explain, to make it better. She ached to be in his arms, to feel the familiar comfort of his touch. She needed to have that again, because her connection with him was wilting fast. She wanted him to take away this agonising poison rushing through her.

  He was almost to her side. Soon it would all be over. She kept telling herself that in tiny whispers, losing the thought a little more with each repeat. It was growing impossible to think with this dark filling her body to the breaking point.

  Tollin was suddenly there. Grasping her.

  Instead of his touch being the surge of relief she wanted it to be, it burned like acid. His strong fingers wound round her wrist and waist, holding her against the wall. A few of his words echoed through the haze, urging her to hang on. She wanted to hold him, beg him to save her, but she was being torn apart on the inside, both fighting for him and against him. He was hurting her but she never wanted him to let go.

  She gasped in suffocating panic.

  She understood now.

  Roth was inside of her. Possessing her.