by R. J. Blain
The last thing I needed was them finding me.
“When is your next film coming out?”
“Next year. The release announcement will be coming out soon.” Like most of my roles, I was in a secondary role, although it was a semi-major film. All things considered, my casting had been a miracle. Dominic was a genius as an agent, and I still had no idea how I, the Sandpaper Queen of L.A., had managed to land him. It certainly hadn’t been through the sparkling qualities of my voice.
The woman smiled, shaking my hand a second time. “I look forward to it.”
Music played from the woman’s purse, and she pulled her cell out. The device, starving for electricity, called out to me. Looking down at the display, the woman made a displeased noise. “Sorry, I have to take this.”
“Have a good night,” I replied, smiling at her, retreating so the phone’s hunger wouldn’t tempt me anymore. I abandoned the display tables and hunted for one of the employees. The store would close soon enough, and if I wanted to read the book tonight, I needed to get home.
Wise actresses didn’t anger their agents, and we had a dinner appointment tomorrow. If Dominic wanted me to read a book, he had a reason for it, and it wasn’t for my personal amusement.
I found a young man stacking novels on one of the tables near the escalators. He straightened when I approached, his eyes widening as he looked me over. “Can I help you, ma’am?”
Giving him my best smile in the hopes he’d be too distracted by my looks to notice my rough voice, I glanced down at his name tag. “Hey, Scott. Do you have a copy of Among Us by M.L. Silverston in stock?
Scott blinked, his dark eyebrows rising at my question. “Sure, this way please.”
He led me straight to the fantasy section, gesturing to a pile of hardbacks arranged on a small table in the corner. “Thanks,” I murmured. The word came out as a rasp.
A blood-splattered cover with a shuffling zombie greeted me. I bit back a sigh, stashing the novel under my arm.
Nicole Thomas, ready-made zombie. With my voice, I’d make a great undead. Maybe I’d get an upgrade to a lich or something. Liches, at least, were unique and way more interesting than zombies or vampires. With my luck, I’d end up snack to some zombie or vampire in the film.
Murphy and his crappy law were my constant companions, and he got perverse enjoyment out of making me squirm.
I eyed the stack of books and the decaying woman depicted on the cover. Dominic often asked me to read the source material for a new script before sending me to an audition or popping an offer for a film. For the first time in a month, I hoped my agent had managed to find something for me. My career was going through a dry spell worse than California’s persistent drought.
If he did have a role for me related to the book, I’d be golden. Movie adaptions of bestselling novels often did well. Better yet, on a movie set, it was easy to hide my affinity with electricity-powered devices. There were so many places I could unleash excess energy without anyone ever noticing, not even after close inspection of the electric bill.
Until filming was done, I wouldn’t have to worry about anything. By the time I returned home each night, I’d be exhausted—physically, mentally, and magically. I could go out to the mall and not even have to worry about things like magic because I’d be so tapped out that my cell would be all I needed to control my unwanted powers.
“Is that all you need, ma’am?” Scott asked, startling me from my thoughts.
I smiled for him again. “Yes, tha—”
The store’s lights dimmed so low I could barely make out Scott next to me. Several moments passed before they brightened again with an erratic hum and buzz. I stiffened, staring up at the lights. My heart skipped several beats before racing in my chest. Had I unwittingly lost control? I didn’t feel like I had drained the electricity from the lights. There was no telltale tingling or the twitchy nervousness I associated with having an abundance of energy to play with.
I could still—although faintly—feel my phone sipping away at the power I offered it.
“Again?” Scott asked, his voice deepening with annoyance. “That’s been going on all day.”
“Weird,” I replied, forcing myself to look at anywhere other than the ceiling. “Anyway, thanks for the help. Have a good night, Scott.”
The lights dimmed again, brightening after several long moments.
“You too, ma’am.”
When I headed towards the registers, Scott followed, pausing now and then to straighten the displays. I caught him staring at me several times, but I pretended not to notice. Was I committing some sort of fashion crime? I adjusted the collar of my red sweater, checking to make sure it covered the scars on my shoulder and neck. It did. I wasn’t wearing anything special. I’d left my jewelry at home. The only thing interesting about me was my leather heeled boots, and those were hidden under my worn jeans.
A little bemused over Scott’s staring, I headed towards the register, reaching into my pocket for my wallet.
The lights went out.
“Oh my,” the cashier murmured.
“Again? Really? What’s this, the fourth outage this week?” Scott cursed, and I heard him bump into one of the display tables nearby.
“Fifth,” the woman behind the register corrected. “You’re cursed, Scott. It’s always on your shift! The power will be back on in a minute. Sorry about this, ma’am.”
“No problem,” I replied, staring up at the ceiling. I could feel the residual energy in the lights as tendrils of heat seeped into my skull. If I wanted, I suspected I could route my power through the floor and light the place up.
I probably had enough strength to light the entire mall. I concentrated on my cell phone, focusing my will on it. I wasn’t going to break anything, not even a single light. I definitely wasn’t going to light up the entire mall.
No one would learn the truth about me.
I clutched the book, drumming my fingers against the dust jacket. Someone giggled nervously in the darkness. A cell phone glowed on the other side of the store.
“You know, if you have exact change, I can do the sale manually,” the cashier offered. “I wonder why the generator—”
A high-pitched sound sent shivers up and down my spine. For a moment, all I could do was freeze. Something—someone?—screamed. At least, I thought it was a scream; there was nothing human about the hair-raising shriek.
“Jesus Christ!” Scott’s voice sounded weak. “What wa—”
The wet, dull crunch of breaking bones silenced Scott’s voice. For a moment, I wasn’t in the bookstore, but in my twin’s car, reliving the moment I had crashed through a guardrail into a ravine. My leg, my arm, and my shoulder had made similar sounds before my screams had drowned them out.
My breath caught in my throat.
The splat of something wet hitting the floor nearby freed me from the nightmare of the past. The stench of fresh blood hit me hard. Another stench clogged my nose. I gagged, recoiling a step.
Warmth dripped down my face.
“S-scott?” the cashier gasped out. There was no answer. “Scott? Scott, damn it all, this isn’t funny.”
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The noise came from nearby, so close I feared I could reach out and touch the source. With a thought and murmured word, I severed the connection to my phone.
Silence.
I tightened my grip on the book, hugging it to my chest. At home, I would have had one of my focal stones to work with, allowing me better control of my powers. At home, there wouldn’t have been witnesses. If I turned the lights in the store on, I’d be found out.
Then I’d be killed.
“Scott!” The cashier’s voice rose in pitch.
Scott didn’t answer.
“Come on, Scott. This isn’t funny anymore,” the cashier whispered, her voice trembling.
I swallowed back my own fear and drew several deep breaths. The cashier had said the lights would come back on in a minute.
With a shudder, I closed my eyes. I couldn’t wait that long. Something had happened to Scott.
The lights flickered on, dimly illuminating the bookstore as I started to speak a word that would unleash my power. As I choked back the first syllable, my skin tingled as I suppressed the energy, keeping it from surging into the electronics nearby.
Scott was gone. Squinting in the faint lighting, I looked for the young employee. I was certain I had heard him nearby, but there was no sign of him.
Across the counter from me, the cashier shrieked, holding one hand to her mouth while pointing at the floor in front of me. “Oh god. Scott!”
I looked down. The pale lump on the ground, splattered in crimson, wasn’t large enough to be a human. It was too misshapen, colored in gray and red instead of flesh tones. I stared, unable to tear my gaze away.
With a flicker and a surge of electricity, the lights flared to full brightness.
Something warm and wet dripped down from the ceiling. My hand trembled as I reached up and touched my cheek. The tips of my fingers came away red with blood. Crimson stained the floor, the books, the tables, and had splattered on the ceiling.
I had been right. The shape on the floor was too small to be a person.
It was only part of one—a part of Scott.
The occult had dabbled with me, but it had ripped him to pieces.
Available now at Amazon
The Eye of God (The Fall of Erelith, Book 1)
Blaise tries to act like a good human, but someone always manages to ruin things for him. When the Emperor’s most powerful weapon is stolen and its human vessel is kidnapped from the Arena, Blaise must choose between meddling in the affairs of mortals or remaining true to his duty.
To make matters worse, the Archbishop has betrayed the church and God by giving the Emperor the second piece of the Triad, the Heart of God. Should Blaise stand idle and leave the mortals to their own devices, the people of Erelith won’t just lose their lives: Their souls will be destroyed by a power that was never meant to fall into mortal hands.
If Blaise can find the Eye of God, he might be able to save the humans from themselves. Unfortunately, his only hope for success lies in the hands of a slave who wants nothing more than to die. If Blaise can’t save Terin and enlist his help, the Erelith Empire will fall.
Available now at Amazon