Hopefully, I just imagined that.
His attention is now on Namen, the rest of the world put on pause as he brokers a deal with the young witch. “Do you want to live or are you ready to travel through the world of the dead?” The voice is everywhere and nowhere.
“I’m not ready, I’ll do anything. There are still some things that I must do,” he cries, gray eyes overflowing with tears as he remains restrained.
“I can free you, if that is your wish.”
He knows that you never make a deal with a demon. He just killed his own brother to ensure his survival. There is no telling how far he’ll go; even if that means that he will have to go against everything that he believes in.
But, for what? What is Namen’s mission? It is the piece that I’m missing.
“Help me,” he pleads.
The demon wraps tighter around his soul, tasting him, contemplating, and then laughing. “It will be done.”
There’s an explosion of light that knocks Namen off of his feet. When he rises some time later, the stench of hundreds of dead, decaying bodies fills the air. Namen looks about in horror as every man, woman, and child in sight is dead and mutilated. He vomits over and over again, realizing that his plea to be freed is the cause of this massacre. The demon took his payment.
“I take it back!” he calls as loudly as he can, falling to his knees, defeated. “Take me. I cannot have this on my conscience.”
He looks out into the distance, angry ghosts are standing over their bodies, their attention turned to him. As a necromancer, he can commune with the dead and with that much death, his powers are heightened. They assault him all at once, screaming, slipping through him, pushing his sanity to the limit.
Namen falls to the ground, hands covering his ears, eyes closed as he begs for the demon to take it back. Yet, the demon never does. Instead, he just chuckles and pulls Namen through a void and back to reality, to his home. Once Namen realizes where he’s at, he bursts through the door, calling out for a woman.
“Helen! Helen, where are you!” he calls. There is no answer. “Amelia!” he calls again.
“Namen runs into a room that holds a crib. He rushes up to it so fast that he doesn’t even realize that he’s stumbled over a body. Falling to the floor, he ends up face to face with a woman. On her forehead is the word ‘witch’ carved. Blood trickles from her mouth as her dead eyes stare at him.
Before he allows himself to process this loss, Namen is up again, searching the crib. He finds nothing and he lets out the saddest sound of despair I’ve ever heard. Then, he’s running about the house, searching, pleading with himself, calling out to the demon to help, to no avail.
The humans, he thinks. They did this. They stole my daughter. They killed my wife. I protected them. I murdered my brother for them. Hate grows in his heart. More determined, he calls for the demon once more. This time, he gets a response and an unexpected surprise.
◊◊◊
I am ripped away from the memory as I regain consciousness. There is no more darkness, no more bright lights, no more flickering memories. Selene is standing next to me, holding my hand and Zara has her grandmother, unconscious in her arms. I guess it worked. I groan as I turn. A migraine sets in immediately. It’s to be expected I guess.
“I was inside Namen’s memories. I was learning about him. I got pulled away too soon. There was something that I was supposed to see,” I tell them as I ignore the tiny jackhammer in my brain.
“We can’t send you back. Zahira already broke the compulsion,” Selene explains.
I try to sit up as a wave of nausea hits me. Somehow, I’m able to force it back down. “Is she going to be okay, Zara?” I ask. I hope that her helping me didn’t cause any permanent damage to her own psyche. Even if she is scary as hell, she’s Zara’s family.
Zara lays her gently on the couch. “She’ll be fine. It was just exhausting.” She turns to us and frowns before flashing over to Selene and catching her as she is hit with a dizzy spell.
Zara guides her to a chair and I get up to go to her side. Selene has been working herself far too much lately and I haven’t been taking care of her the way I should. I immediately feel guilty.
“I’m sorry Selene. You’ve been having to push yourself too much,” I say regretfully as I squeeze her hand.
She smiles at me and replies, “I can handle more than you think; just give me a few moments to rest, amor.”
But, there is no time to rest. My tattoo glows so brightly that this time, it feels as if I’m being dipped into a scalding pot of water. I cry out in pain as I double over, clutching Zara’s hand and Selene’s shoulder. I don’t think that this is supposed to happen. It’s painfully obvious, no pun intended, that there is something wrong.
Somewhere in the distance I feel the world being ripped apart with the savagery one would use to rip someone’s limbs from their body. The wrongness of the act doesn’t disappear even as it’s mended over again. Wariness lingers in my core. I try to voice it, but sound won’t come out. Fear ices me as I have no idea what to expect next. If it is a confrontation, I don’t know if we could survive it.
Right in front of us, there’s a tear in the fabric of reality as if someone took a jagged pair of scissors and began cutting. The vibrant colors of another plane bleeds into our existence until the two meld looking like a runny mess of paint. Then, a female form crashes through the void with such force that the entire house shakes and knocks us all off of our feet. It’s like a concussion grenade has gone off in front of us; the sheer force of this person’s chakra is deafening.
From my back, I look up and meet black, souless eyes. Looking into them is like being thrown into a pit of endless darkness. Emptiness to which there is no escape. My head is throbbing with more intensity and as I touch the back of it, it comes away wet with blood. I’m sure that I have a concussion and I know that Selene and Zara are faring no better, from the sounds of their groans. Even Zahira will not be of any help since she’s still unconscious.
The mysterious female fixes her gaze on me and I know then that this is what hell is like. Her presence seems to suck all the light from the room. It takes me a minute to register that she’s holding onto an injured, glowing form.
There’s movement to my left as well as banging on the door behind me. Yet, the vampires are unable to enter and I’m sure it has everything to do with this monster in front of me. Another second ticks by and we are now all on our feet, hesitant, unsure. I don’t look at my allies, refusing to tear my eyes away from the woman in front of me.
She’s holding an immortal with a very ugly stomach wound. It’s bleeding profusely and I wonder why the wound isn’t even starting to heal. Immortals healed like vampires, faster, and this one doesn’t even seem to have begun restoration. Jet black hair, beautiful face, I still don’t recognize this one in front of me.
She isn’t unconscious as I thought. The immortal puts a hand on the woman’s cheek and whispers something so quietly that all I see is her lips move. Hesitantly, the monster places her on the floor and disappears. Her vanishing energy leaves the room cold and creepy, like a haunted house. What in the hell is she?
Selene is the first to take a step forward, the glow from the immortal diminishing, showing that she’s close to dying. If she dies without the performing the ritual to ascend, she’ll be dead for good. Immortals are reborn once they reach a certain age. Their souls repeat the cycle, making them look to be about five or six years old. They retain all of their memories, but have to re-grow into their strength as they age. She doesn’t seem as if she’ll be lucky to make it more than ten more minutes.
I’d be able to help if I could contact Diana, but I’ve tried each time with no luck. Why is this one here now? What could have happened? Maybe there is something going on with the immortals. Maybe the actual reason why I can’t contact Diana is because she’s passed on. My heart drops at the possibility.
Selene is now by the immortal’s side. She looks to be a
bout seventeen. She could pass as a junior in high school, not the eons that she actually is. I watch as Selene’s eyes go wide in surprise as she reaches out a hand. Then, she stops as if touching the injured immortal will kill her.
“Kaede?” she whispers, fearful and confused.
I frown in puzzlement. Kaede looks like a little girl. This can’t be her, can it? But, I know. Kaede was Selene’s magical instructor while we were on the plane of the immortals. If anyone would recognize her, it’d be Selene.
The door breaks down behind me, but Zara orders the vampires to stand down and remain close. They leave, but a couple stand near the door in protection. Zara slides to Kaede’s side as well and the fondness for this particular immortal is evident from Zara’s expression as she takes in her mangled form. She wastes no more time and bites her wrist, bringing it to Kaede’s mouth.
I stand there trying to piece it all together, but nothing seems to make sense. My tattoo was trying to warn me. Something is most definitely not right.
Kaede drinks Zara’s blood, but it does little more than slows the flow of blood. There is no magical stitching of her skin or anything and worried, Selene looks at me for help, but I’m powerless. I may have been marked by the immortals, but I don’t have their type of power.
Or do I?
“Rayne,” Kaede’s soft voice whispers to me. I step closer and fall to my knees to hear. “There is something that you must know. We’ve all been betrayed.”
My blood runs cold as I can only guess what she’s truly telling me. “Who did this to you?” I ask forcefully. My tattoo burns once more as if it too is in fear of something.
“You can’t trust them,” she mouths almost silently before passing out.
Selene, Zara, and I all share a look of horror as gentle Kaede’s wound continues to spill scarlet blood on the floor of Zahira’s home.
Be sure not to miss the new Young Adult Urban Fantasy novel by Alanna J. Faison:
The Edge of Awakening
The Soul Tamer Series Book I
A horrible monster killed me.
Not just me. There were so many bodies. There was so much blood. The screams, I can still hear the screams. Why can I still hear the screams? I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t. I don’t remember how.
Why can’t I?
I’m floating. There is no wind, there is no cold, no heat, it just is. A vacuum of endless confusion. The screams. Where am I? Why are there screams? I try to awaken from this dream, but there is no shift in my consciousness. I forget again why I’m here. I forget who I am.
Then, I remember. My name. My name is Jasmine. Jasmine Marie Whitmore. But, I died. I died on the floor of my parent’s room, my throat cut open by a horrible monster. I ran as fast as I could. I punched in the code to the panic room, but I wasn’t fast enough. The door didn’t shut fast enough.
What was that thing? Why did it come for us? Why am I here? Who am I?
Jasmine. My name is Jasmine.
About the Author
Alanna is pretty sure that she loved books from the minute she was born. Raised in Omaha, Nebraska, there wasn’t much to do but read anyway. With the encouragement of her mother and a few clever teachers along the way, she turned her love for reading into a love of writing stories, poetry, and music. Although she went to college and obtained a Bachelor’s degree in Criminal Justice, Alanna always finds her way back to her first love. She dreams that her own books will give someone the same excitement she feels when she reads a great story.
Killer Rayne Page 25