Death Be Rising (The Terra Vane Series Book 7)

by Katie Epstein

  Pain seared through my head when someone caught hold of my hair. I let out a yelp of frustration, sick of being snatched into some form of danger. Kaleb raised his hand to grab hold of me, but missed. Dreven had taken advantage of Zax’s distraction and drew me behind the shield.

  “Terra!” Kaleb roared, banging at the transparent wall between us. Zax lowered to the ground. Libby and Grady dismounted and threw themselves into the fight with Dreven’s monstrous bodyguards.

  Kaleb part shifted his hand into claws, trying to rip through the shields, banging it with frustration when he couldn’t get through. His eyes found mine.

  ‘Don’t engage!’ he bellowed in my head. ‘Keep him distracted until Mayra lowers the shield!’

  He spun on his heel to fight the lion shifter eager to burrow his fangs into his flesh.

  Dreven twisted me around to face him, looking upon me with sweet satisfaction in his eyes. So I did what every girl should do when a man grabs her in such a way without permission. I kneed him in the balls.

  “Oomph,” he let out, grabbing his groin. “Now that’s fighting dirty.”

  “You can say that again,” I aimed my recovered blade in his direction. But even crouched in pain, the arrogance never left him. He grabbed the end of my sword and held on. Blood dripped onto the metal as he whispered incoherent words.

  “Ow!” The hilt grew too hot to hold, and I dropped it to the ground. It turned to ash in front me. I screeched when heat hit my back. He’d burned the blade back there, too. And the knife in the harness on my leg. Next went the Pulsar weapon, melting into its hold. I grabbed it fast, lifting it out and throwing it to the floor, jumping around like a fool. And suddenly, with no weapons, I’d ended up trapped in a bubble with a powerful mage who’d snuffed out my blades and guns in less than a minute.

  Talk about shit hitting the fan.

  35

  Dreven thrusted his hand forward. My head fell back even though he stood several yards away from me. I put a hand to my nose to find blood there.

  My face snatched to the side when he slapped the air.

  “And you said I fought dirty,” I told him, needing to hold on long enough for Mayra to release the shield.

  “I want to take over the world. Why do you think I want to play fair now?”

  He gave the air in front of him an uppercut, and an explosion of pain hit my chin. I staggered back and hit the ground.

  Rolling further away, I got about a foot away from him when he followed and kicked the space, and therefore throwing me into a world of pain. I clutched my stomach. But something in me had gone beyond sanity at what we’d faced the past few hours. I lunged, grabbing for his clothes and tugging hard. His loose breeches came down with one pull, and I rolled into a stance to kick him. He fell back, and I rolled on top of him, intending to get in a few hits before he engaged once more.

  He gripped my ass and pulled me close, rubbing up against me, his eyes flaring with desire. I head butted the bastard, and he yelped when his nose crunched.

  “I apologize,” he grinned, breathing heavy. “My lovers are usually more willing.”

  Pinning his hands above his head, I forced them in place, trying to gain Mayra time. But a buzz, like electricity found its way through my hands, and into my body. His magic invaded and my body flinched, growing taught.

  Unable to fight the sensation, I loosed him, and he pushed me off him. He sat astride me, keeping me down while I recovered.

  The numbness faded, but before I could move, he turned the rings he wore on his hand, and slapped me hard. The skin on my cheek broke.

  “Tell me how you eliminated so many dead at once,” he demanded, grinding himself against my leg. “Do it or I’ll hurt you!”

  “Like I’m scared of your pinprick dick!” I yelled.

  “Oh, you’re a treasure, aren’t you? But even though my phallus is grand in its appearance, I don’t take what a woman doesn’t wish to give. But I will beat you. I’ll beat you with an inch of your life. Then I’ll kill your friends, one by one, until you tell me. How did you take out my puppets?” 

  My eyes flickered. Something tugged at my skull. Blood ran down my cheek as dark shadows danced across my vision. Music played. And the sounds of flutes reached my ears.

  A room formed before me. One with wooden walls, open windows. A woven rug covered most of the floor. A woman danced across it, slippered feet peeking out from long skirts as she moved. A young boy chuckled in the corner, happiness shining in his eyes at the sight. He held out his palm, wiggling his fingers. A green light hovered above them, music created from the magic he wielded.

  “Dance, mama!” he encouraged the woman, and she did so, content and free with each step. The boy laughed, cherishing the moment. But something hard falling to the ground had him snapping his hand shut. The music stopped. The boy’s face darkened.

  “Oh, no!” the woman stopped dancing, and ushered the boy into a door wooden cupboard in the corner. “He’s back early. Hide there. Hide there and do not come out! Do you hear me?”

  The boy, terrified, did as she said, worry on his face the last thing I saw when the cupboard door closed.

  The woman grabbed a broom and swept the floor. She jumped when the door to the room crashed open.

  “I heard music!” a man roared, stomping inside. Tall, with bulk, he wore armor and a fur cloak around his shoulders. He slammed the door shut behind him. “Where is that little runt! I told him not to practice his magic unless I’m present!”

  He scoured the room. The woman got in his way. “Leave it, Arnold. It was just me. I was singing while I cleaned. I forgot myself!”

  “Get out of my way.” He pushed her with so much force she crashed to the ground. But soon she was back on her feet, and in his way once more.

  “Please!” she pleaded. “I’ll make you something to eat. I picked some mushrooms this morning. I’ll make you some stew. I’ll—”

  A crunch resounded when he slapped her across the face. The rage in him took over. He hit her again, and again, and again. She’d fallen to the ground, but still he continued to hurt her. Her body finally gave out. She no longer moved. And the man called Arnold continued to hit until his rage subsided.

  “Oh no,” he said when he’d finished, putting a shaky hand to her bloody face. “What have I done!” He gathered her in his arms. Gently he rocked her. “Isabella,” he whispered. “Isabella, I’m so sorry!”

  “No!” the young boy screamed, throwing the cupboard door open and racing over to his mother’s body. “No, mama!”

  “I’m sorry, son,” the man whispered, tears streaming down his face. “I’m sorry.”

  “No!” the boy wailed. But then the images spun into those of another.

  “You will treat her as your mother boy!” Arnold demanded, storming out of the room. The boy, slightly older, threw the spoon across the table.

  The woman, his mother, dressed in the same clothes she’d worn on the day of her death, danced over to the spoon. She picked it up and placed it on the table. With an eerie smile and void eyes, she told him, “Eat your food, Dreven. Eat it like a good boy.”

  Her skin still held the bruises and cuts of her beating. She’d died that day. Her heart no longer beating to push the blood around her body to heal. The magic Dreven’s father had pushed into her kept her fresh, just like it had with the zombies we’d fought.

  She dragged her feet when she walked, reaching for the broom she swept. “Sing for me, Dreven,” she asked. He stubbornly crossed his arms. But it didn’t last long. Softening, he held out his palm and played the music she loved so much, adding words, filled with pain, into the song.

  The woman danced, her movements jagged. It wasn’t natural. And I recalled the part in Dreven’s file where it stated his father had called Isabella’s soul back to her body and kept her prisoner there. Torn, I saw Dreven’s face. The love for his mother. The hatred for his father. The need to detest the woman his mother had become. My heart ached for the y
oung boy he was. For the man who would eventually kill his father and free his mom.

  The boy sobbed at the table while his mother danced. But then the vision disappeared with abruptness, and present-day Dreven returned, eager for a fight against me.

  I bucked him off, my head hazy from the vision. My emotions locked in my throat. But my instincts kicked in. Both of us hurried to our feet.

  “Oh, this is fun!” he laughed, reaching for me. I elbowed the dip in his arm, hitting him palm up beneath his chin. Damn. I’d aimed for the nose and he moved. But it shocked him enough. Angry, he pushed me hard. But I wrapped my arms around him and held on.

  Dreven whispered words, but I didn’t let go. Even when his skin flamed beneath my fingers, I took the pain, screaming with the agony of it.

  “Let go!”

  “No!” I screamed. He tried to shake me off me, but I refused to comply.

  Come on, Mayra.

  To an outsider not fearful for my wellbeing they would have probably found a grown man with his breeches down, trying to shake off a woman ridiculous. He swung and shook me like a rag doll, but I’d clamped around him good, and I wasn’t moving.

  “You know,” he drawled, “any other time I’d think this to be foreplay. But now you’re just annoying me!”

  I held on tighter, not saying a word.

  “This will not help your cause, you silly fool!” he snapped. “Even if you defeat me and the others, you have a greater enemy in the Consilium. Those in higher places all across Portiside. Let me go and I’ll make it a quick death. Same with your friends!”

  “Like. Anyone. Ever. Chooses. That. Option.”

  He growled. “You a bug in their shoe. And in mine! And you know what people do with bugs.”

  Dreven vibrated beneath me. I closed my eyes, using all the will I had in the world to hold on. If I kept his arms clamped to his sides, he couldn’t use his hands to throw out magic.

  “Damn, you’re strong,” he muttered. He vibrated again. “Seriously, woman. You’re tougher than you look!”

  “I’ll. Take. That. As. A. Compliment.”

  “Yes. Well. Maybe I like playing with you. It’s not like I anything better to do while the last thread of the ward disappears. Not long n—” He cut off, suddenly still in his movements.

  Oh, crap.

  “Your witch dares to tamper with my shield!” If fury was tangible, I would have felt it. And he wasn’t faking when he said he’d been playing with me. The vibration between him and my hold trembled, and I shook with him. His power knocked me back, burning my arms, and forcing me to let go.

  I hit the floor with a thud; the impact taking my breath away. Wheezing with pain, I watched in slow motion as the shield destabilized around us. It flickered. Mayra was almost there.

  Dreven yanked up his breeches and thrust his hand out toward the trees behind us. A branch broke free; its end as sharp as a spear. With one thrust of his arm, he aimed it like a missile in Mayra’s direction. It sailed, too fast, toward Bernard’s chest.

  Bernard guarded Mayra. So Dreven had aimed for him, knowing him to be a vampire. If the stake hit his heart, it would kill him.

  “Bernard!” I yelled.

  The warning wouldn’t reach him in time. My eyes widened. I screamed when the stake sank into Bernard’s chest. I ran toward the edge of the shield, running into the barrier that still held. My friend staggered backward, clasping the wood.

  Mayra screamed, her hand out. I waited for Bernard to turn to ash. For the grief to tear me in half.

  “Bernard!” I yelled again. “No!”

  “Did you think you could defeat me, Terra?” Dreven said from behind me. I turned to see through my tears, his arm still in the air. It shook. Looking over toward Mayra, she also had her hand pointed toward Bernard, her arm shaking.

  Bernard’s face etched in pain, I looked at his chest to see the stake pulsing with two opposing forces, both fighting for supremacy of the stake. It inched in further and Bernard roared in agony.

  Mayra continued to hold the stake back. One arm aimed toward Bernard. The other one toward the shield.

  “No Mayra!” I yelled. “Focus on Bernard! Ignore the shield!”

  “No!” Bernard bellowed from the other side of the flickering wall. “Mayra. Focus on the shield. Get Terra free!”

  “No!” I banged the shield hard. “Shut up, Bernard! Shut up! Mayra, focus on the stake. On the stake!”

  Her arms shook as she tried to hold the stake and remove the shield at the same time. I worried for her. I worried for them both. But she couldn’t give up. She needed to save Bernard. I couldn’t lose him.

  I launched at Dreven. But he’d summoned a bubble of magic to act as a buffer between us. He laughed when I bounced back on my rear. I couldn’t use my gift. If I took him over, I’d have to take a moment to learn his power. That’s if I got control over his energy. And I might be the one who drove the stake home.

  Rushing to my feet, I headed toward the outer shield, banging on it. “Save him!”

  “Mayra,” Bernard yelled, his jaw clenching with pain. “Now!”

  Mayra didn’t listen. But she tired. I could see it in her face. Without turning dark, there was no way she would defeat the mage. And we couldn’t risk her embracing the darkness. If she absorbed the dark power and didn’t return from it, Dreven would be the least of our worries.

  “Mayra!” I pleaded. “Save Bernard. Please!”

  Dreven laughed, but I picked up on the fatigue in his voice. “She is no match for me, Terra. I told you. I’m merely playing with you all to pass the time.”

  Liar.

  “I’ll drain the pretty witch dry, then bring the trees upon her head for her daring. Just you wait and see!”

  “Mayra!” I tried again. “Save Bernard.”

  She didn’t listen. A boom overhead had me looking up, and the sky darkened. Blackened clouds sailed above us, and panic itched at my soul. “No, Mayra!” I yelled. But she wouldn’t listen to me. Her hair blew around her like tentacles, her eyes darkening as she let the dark magic flow through her. Chanted words fell from her lips—words I couldn’t hear.

  The stake quivered in Bernard’s chest. And I hopelessly looked on, able to do nothing but watch as my two friends lives hung in the balance. If Mayra turned dark, Portiside would sail in and either lock her away for study or put her in the ground. No one wanted to risk a dark witch running free.

  Witches could practice the dark arts with a license, but with such strict rules few ever did. Mayra often walked the line. But she wasn’t walking it now. She’d leaped over it into a dangerous pit of seductive magic. If she embraced it, the dark powers would have a field day in swallowing all of us whole.

  “Time to go down, bitch,” Dreven laughed. He pushed harder. So hard, Mayra staggered backward. “There we go.”

  She’d held! Holy shit, my heart raced so hard in my chest I had to force aside the need to throw up.

  “Told you,” he sneered.

  “You’re just like your father!” I shouted, trying anything to distract him.

  “We all have daddy issues, sweetheart. Deal with it.”

  “What? Like you did. Killing him after freeing your mother!”

  “I read my prison file, Terra. You can stop with the dramatics.”

  “I’m not talking about the file, you jackass!” I stepped closer. “I’m talking about your mother. Isabella. The woman who protected you. Who died protecting you!”

  “You will not mention her name!” he bellowed, pushing his magic harder toward Mayra. I thought fast.

  “I’ll do what I damn well please. About the dancing I saw. Her in a pretty blue gown. She danced across the rug for the music you played for her. She danced to feel free from the domination of your father. You gave her that!”

  “How do you…?” he trailed off. “Psychic bitch!”

  “I saw it. I saw your pain,” I continued, getting as close as his energy buffer would allow. “I watched him beat her
. All because he tried to get to you. Even when she lay there, still, dead, he continued to hit her until the rage subsided. He cried for her. He held her in his arms.”

  “He suffered for that,” Dreven said through gritted teeth, his eyes darkening. “Just as you will for daring to mention her name!”

  “She loved you. Even in death. Even in her prison. You sang for her!”

  He faltered. Only for a moment. But enough for the lightning to pierce the shield.

  The dark clouds thundered above us, and I turned to see Mayra. She yelled, the sound of it guttural with the magic whipping around her body. Something pushed inside of her, her feet lifted from the ground. She laughed—a cackle that made me go cold. But Dreven’s hesitation had cost him. The magical barrier collapsed.

  “Terra!” Kaleb shouted. I spun on my heel to catch his blade sailing through the air.

  Dreven laughed. “Don’t even think—”

  Without a second thought, I chopped off the bastard’s head.

  36

  Watching someone’s head—one that appears so goddamn human—tumble across the ground, tends to freak people the hell out. You know. Normal people. And even though I’m not normal, it still freaked me the hell out.

  Dreven’s torso, legs, and arms stood for a few seconds, only the stump of his neck remaining on his shoulders. Then the body slumped toward the ground.

  My eyes widened in shock, and my hands froze on the hilt still poised in the air.

  At my feet, Dreven’s face stared up at me. His mouth was set in the shape of an ‘O;’ his face set in disbelief of his oncoming death. Bile reached my throat, and all integrity flew out of the window as I threw up next to his decapitated head.

  “Terra!” Kaleb raced over to me, rubbing my back as I finished vomiting whatever the hell I’d eaten last.

  “Bernard,” I croaked. “And Mayra.”