“Seventh claimed to have nothing to do with the zombies.”
Ophelia rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t believe a word that Force says.”
“So…” I took a step forward; she did not back up. “Let’s be allies.”
She raised one brow. “You want to help me destroy all humans?”
“Sounds to me like that is a solution to a problem. The problem is the way humans treat the planet. Maybe there is another way besides destroying them all…” Because death of a species seems kind of extreme.
Her gaze dropped to Emmanuel again. “He can save them. He can destroy them.”
“He doesn’t save their bodies, just their souls.” And now I sound mildly insane. But there is a giant dead cat creature to my left. So, what if I believe in souls now?
“What’s the difference?”
“Between souls and bodies?” I asked to buy time.
Ophelia started toward Cyrus. “Yes,” she answered as she reached him. The cat lay on its side, eyes closed, front paws crossed. His shoulder was as tall as Ophelia. She reached out and touched his fur, running her fingers over it gently. Her aura pulsed with pain.
“Um… bodies exist on the physical plane, and souls…” Ophelia looked at me, waiting for me to continue, her hand sank into Cyrus’s orange fur. “They live in bodies, and when they get released they… I don’t know. What do you think?”
“We need to destroy human souls so they stop coming back. Emmanuel forgives their sins so they get to come back and try again. It just keeps going around and around. They never learn. They never grow.”
“They don’t?”
Ophelia shook her head.
“How do you know they won’t?”
She didn’t answer, just pet the fur. A tear slid down her cheek. I glanced down at Emmanuel, a lump forming in my throat that I forced away. He’ll come back.
Ophelia turned to me again. “I’ll give you my blood. I’ll let you end the zombies if you will ask him”—she gestured with her chin to Emmanuel—“to stop saving souls.”
“I don’t think he can do that. I mean, he is compelled to do it. He doesn’t choose it.”
Ophelia raised both brows. “Even the son of All Mighty doesn’t get to live the life he wants.”
“We all have responsibilities.”
She met my gaze again. “And you’ve decided you’re going to save all the humans. Stop the zombies. That’s your responsibility?”
“I’ve lived through it. Have you?” She cocked her head, as if she didn’t fully understand the question. “I lived in a world taken over by zombies. It’s horrible.”
“The lives of lesser beings mean so much to you?”
“Just because they don’t have my powers doesn’t make them lesser,” I bristled.
Ophelia choked out a laugh. “Then what exactly would make someone less than you?”
“Everyone has their talents.”
“But you’ll kill my—” She stopped talking, bowing her head for a moment. She swallowed and returned her gaze to me, her face set in hard lines. “You’ll kill Cyrus but want to save humans.” She said the word humans as if it were cockroaches.
“Humans aren’t so bad. They make music and art. Their flaws are their power.”
She shook her head. “They have no power except for their numbers. They breed well.”
Somehow that didn’t actually sound like a compliment. Footsteps in the hall made Ophelia and I both turn toward the closed door. A human, probably a servant, approached. Their heart hammered and fear swirled around them.
Ophelia started toward the door. I followed. She reached it first, throwing it open and exposing a young woman holding a tray with a steaming mug on it.
The woman dropped the tray and screeched. Ophelia growled, and the servant turned and sprinted down the hall.
“That wasn’t nice,” I said. I squatted and picked up a shard from the broken mug. Powering upward, I drove the shard into Ophelia’s arm. Blood spurted. I yanked the shard out and cut into the void.
Megan, Megan, Megan….
I materialized in a dark room, the scent of fresh blood thick in the air. I blinked, but there was no light for my eyes to adjust to.
A popping sensation in my ears—Ophelia had followed me.
Chapter Ten
I had a theory: the way to move through dimensions and space was by thinking about a person, basically using them as a touchstone. Emmanuel could transport us not just between dimensions but also to different parts of the planet. When I’d brought Cyrus and myself to Telescopo, we’d landed within yards of Emmanuel.
I hoped to accomplish the same thing—this time I’d bet on my connection with Megan to pull me through.
I didn’t know where I was physically, but Megan’s power glowed in front of me. So I’d done something right. Ophelia seemed to know this little trick too though.
Hands hit my back, forcing me forward. I slipped in a puddle and tumbled onto my hands and knees. Megan’s aura did not shift. Maybe it was daytime and she was unconscious.
How long did I spend in the void? When I left Telescope, it was still night. The iron-rich scent of blood thickened the air, and I struggled to catch a breath.
Ophelia kicked me in the stomach, and I flipped onto my back. The shard wet with Ophelia’s blood that I’d been holding flew out of my hand as I tumbled. There goes that brilliant plan.
I landed on my back and quickly raised a wall of protection. Ophelia cursed and her aura flashed with anger when she met it. “Stop,” I said to her. “You can’t beat me.”
I rested my head on the ground, rubbing at my ribs.
“Maybe not, but I can hurt you,” she growled.
“Are you trying to make me kill you? Is that your freaking goal here?”
“I already told you it was me or you. That I would not betray my mother like so many before me.”
I closed my eyes and counted to three, calming myself. Sitting up, I formed a ball of light. As it illuminated the room, I gasped.
“Fuck me,” Ophelia whispered.
Megan lay naked on a bed. Blood glistened on her jaw and chest. Two humans, both of them soaked in blood, sprawled on either side of her.
“Feeding frenzy,” Ophelia shook her head. “Gross. I don’t know how you spend time with vamps.”
I rose to my feet, my eyes riveted to the blood. Were the humans alive? Yes, but weak.
I glanced down at myself. Blood stained my knees and coated my hands. Gross.
I brightened my sphere of light, illuminating windows draped in dusty curtains and an antique desk on spindle legs. Where were we? It almost looked like Megan’s parents’ place in Crescent City.
Footsteps in the hall drew our focus. Ophelia backed away from the door. It flung open, electric light spilling into the room. Pearl—Megan’s mother—stood outlined in the doorway. “Wake up,” she singsonged before spotting Ophelia and me.
Her eyes widened. She opened her mouth and closed it again. Megan stirred, rolling over and nuzzling the neck of the closest human. If she took more blood, she’d kill them.
“Don’t,” I said.
Ophelia laughed. “Your own familiar enjoys killing humans, and you want to save them all. Are you totally sure you’re on the right side, Darling?”
“Darling?” Pearl asked, taking a step into the room.
“Yes, it’s me.”
She gave me a tentative smile. “Megan has told us so much about you. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Huh?
“We’ve met,” I said. Pearl cocked her head in a “really?” gesture. Our last encounter was pretty unforgettable to me—Pearl tried to kill me, Emmanuel came out of the woods and revealed himself to be a deity. The vampires all bowed to him….
“Wait.” I stepped toward her. “What day is it?”
Pearl’s eyes narrowed as her influence floated toward me. She was going to try to control me.
Puhlease.
I wrapped my power
around her, squeezing her will into an insignificant whisper. “Tell me the day.”
She did. Three days after Megan disappeared.
I stumbled back, almost slipping on the blood again. Ophelia laughed, her voice echoing in the large bedroom.
“You took us back in time.” She slapped her knee. Slapped her knee.
“I…”
“Didn’t even know you could do that, did you?” Ophelia laughed again. “But you’re invincible. I can’t kill you. No one can kill you.” She dropped her voice like she was a narrator for an action flick. “The immortal Darling Price. Too bad you have no idea what you’re doing.”
Anger replaced confusion.
I slapped a wave of power at Ophelia, sending her flying into the wall. “Megan,” I said, using my influence to pull her mouth from the human’s neck. “Do not kill that person.”
Megan licked at the wounds. She did not acknowledge me though—didn’t seem to recognize me. She was too far gone, drunk on blood.
Megan would hate for me to see her this way. But it was good for me. Reality was always good medicine.
I turned to Pearl. Should I kill her?
No.
I shouldn’t change anything here. I glanced at the human. I just saved their life.
But wait, zombies had not risen yet. Maybe I could stop them.
The fluttering of wings—that dragonfly beat—snapped my head to the draped window. Ophelia blasted a wave of her chi at me, hitting my bubble of protection and weakening it.
The screeching of a giant eagle tore through the night. Ophelia’s team was here.
And mine was blood drunk.
Glass shattered, and the window blew open. Pinky buzzed into the room, her sword up and glowing.
“My familiars can follow me anywhere,” Ophelia told me. “Yours can’t even stay awake.” I glanced at Megan to see that she had passed out again.
She’d been turned sometime in the last few days. Gone from fatally ill to undead—obviously she wasn’t up for much.
Pinky let out a war cry, surprisingly guttural and deep considering her small size. She arrowed for me. I held up a hand and blasted her with energy. She hit the wall, knocking a painting to the floor.
“You’ve lost one to me already,” I said, my chi lifting me off the ground. “You want to lose the rest?”
I found Pinky’s life force, and cradled it with my power. Ophelia paled. “I’ll rip it right out of her. Is that what you want?”
Pinky twitched, as if to come at me again. “Don’t,” I said. “I’ve got your light. If you move, you’ll rip it free yourself.” I gave Ophelia a smile. “Then it wouldn’t even be my fault.” Wow, when did I go full egomaniac super bitch?
“Don’t,” Ophelia whispered.
I gritted my teeth and dove my power into Ophelia. She gasped, but a wave of relief pulsed out of her. She was sick of fighting, and part of her was ready for it to end.
It made me pause. Could I take her with me? But where? I didn’t know where to go. That wasn’t true. I wanted to go back to the Warlock Society, to Dimitri and Megan and Issa and Tyronios, and give them Ophelia’s blood, and I wanted us to undo this spell.
But, clearly, I didn’t know how to navigate the void. I’d really screwed the pooch with this move.
“How do I get back to my own timeline?” I asked Ophelia.
She just shook her head, not willing to share.
Fine.
I’d do it on my own. It couldn’t get worse.
Famous last words.
First, I focused on Pearl, who swayed back and forth, totally in my thrall. “You’ll remember none of this,” I said. “You came in to wake Megan just now. That is all you know.”
She nodded. Maybe I could do that vampiric memory-erasing trick.
I held Ophelia’s light, released Pinky’s, and pulled my sister into the void with me.
I gripped the hilt of a sword, the blade a silvery feather. Nothing but whiteness surrounded me.
Time did not exist here—nothing did.
“How did I get here?” I asked out loud. The space absorbed my words like talking under a blanket.
“I brought you,” a disembodied female voice responded. “You’ve bested my daughter, run through time, traveled across dimensions—all to save humans.”
The scent of soil and greenery permeated the air.
“I want to stop the zombies,” I said. A wind lifted my hair, cool against my skin. I took a step forward, my booted foot finding solid ground in the white emptiness. “Are you Mother Earth?” No answer. “I want you to know, I get why you’re upset. Humans are treating you like crap. I see that.”
“You do?”
“Yes. But… maybe it’s because they don’t understand.”
“Would you forego fumigating your house for termites because the bugs did not comprehend that they were destroying your home?”
When she put it that way…
“I wouldn’t turn them into flesh-hungry monsters feasting on their own kind.”
A laugh, big and nourishing, rang through the empty space.
The sword in my hand grew heavy. I tried to rest the tip on the whiteness under my feet, but it fell right through. I hefted it again, looking closely at the feather—silvery-white plumes sprung from a metal shaft. I’d never seen anything like it. “What do you want?” I asked.
“To eradicate all humans and live at peace once again.”
We all have our dreams….
“I don’t want to be your enemy,” I said.
“You were my creation.” I wet my lips and bit down on the bottom one. I had no response to meeting my creator. “As was Adam.” Her voice sounded sad. “I had such great hopes for humans. Such great hopes.”
“What did you want from them?”
She sighed, and the pure whiteness grayed for a moment. “I thought it would be fun to watch them. But humans tear each other apart—and me with them.”
“They also make music,” I said. “And art. They love.”
“None of it is as beautiful as a bird’s song or a tree’s growth.”
From the whiteness burst landscapes—mountain ranges, a roaring ocean, desert, and jungle, all flashing. I closed my eyes against the assault. “Point taken,” I said.
The onslaught stopped. I opened one eye to see just the whiteness again. “Where are we?” I asked. No answer came.
I felt around with my power, searching for the void. But the texture of this space… it was the void.
Wait, what’s that? I closed my eyes to better sense this new sensation. Ophelia. I still held her somehow—I could sense her energy with mine. Okay…
I wanted to go back to Issa, Dimitri, and Tyronios at the Warlock Society. I closed my eyes, picturing myself there, wishing it.
The musky scent of the ritual room reached me. All I had to do was want it, believe it, and I could have anything in all the worlds.
I opened my eyes. The room lay in darkness. I reached out with my chi, the warlocks slept in their rooms upstairs. Dawn approached, and my vampires slumbered in the catacombs below the building.
I still held the feather sword. Illuminating the room with a ball of energy, I looked to my left where Ophelia stood in chains. I stared at her, and she stared back at me. “You met Mom.”
“Our creator.”
“She likes you.”
“How can you tell?”
She held up her bound wrists and then pointed at the sword. “That is a powerful weapon.”
“Why would she give it to me?”
“She might not have done it on purpose.” Thanks for clearing that up. I rolled my eyes. “She can be kind of… out of it. Her thoughts manifest so quickly that sometimes she can think about something she doesn’t want to have happen and then it does.”
“So, she may not have wanted me to have this sword.”
“Right.”
“Why?”
Ophelia didn’t answer.
“How’d you g
et all chained up.”
She shrugged. “Pretty sure she’s pissed at me.”
So… I had a new sword—with unknown power. I had Ophelia at my disposal so I could extract her blood.
“Kill me,” Ophelia said. “End this already. I am sick of existence on this plane. I’m ready for whatever is next.”
“I thought you refused to fail your mother, thought you planned on destroying me.”
“As you’ve pointed out several times, that’s not possible. I am not as strong as you. My father—while a powerful deity—was nothing compared to your creator.”
The screech of her eagle sounded in the distance. “How do you do that?” I asked. “Pull them through space and time with you.”
Ophelia cocked her head. “The same way you do with Megan.”
“Yeah… right.”
She laughed. “You know nothing. And yet I can’t kill you. It’s just ludicrous—as if hard work and knowledge don’t even matter. It’s all about who you are born to be. Such bullshit,” Ophelia muttered the last bit.
I looked down at the sword in my hand again. The warlocks above stirred, the giant eagle screaming outside waking them. “Your familiars can’t get in here,” I said, looking over at Ophelia. “You can break the warlocks’ magic but not while in those.”
I stepped closer and grabbed the dark silver chains. There was a pattern carved into them that looked like veins or branches.
My sister and I had never been this close and not trying to kill each other. I dropped the chains and stepped back. The ritual room door opened, a shaft of light sliding across the floor to us.
A robed figure stood silhouetted in the doorway. “Tyronios,” I said, recognizing the old warlock’s energy.
“Darling, you’ve returned.”
“Yes.”
I turned to Ophelia, exhaustion heavy on my shoulders. “We need her blood. I think we can take it while she is chained.”
Ophelia stiffened but did not speak.
“I will get you a knife.” Tyronios came further into the room and crossed to a hutch. Opening a drawer, he pulled out a dagger.
“Fancy,” I said. “Hold this.” I handed him the feather sword and took the blade.
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