Impressive stuff, that Tributary. Good thing I’d destroyed the Realm. Didn’t need another Malcolm trying to tap its power. The drills had overheated, triggering a massive explosion. With most of the water gone, the Realm had erupted like a tinderbox, collapsing in upon itself.
Then, like the Weald from which I’d arisen from the dead, the Tributary was no more.
From there, the global healing process could begin. But shaking hands and healing cultural divides was less my speed, and more Roark’s. His father had left a significant gap in power, and someone needed to step into the void. You’d think the world would be hesitant to hand another Roark the reigns, but Colton turned on the charm and had them eating out of his hand in no time. Between him and Eden Marshall, they bridged the distrust between law enforcement and the supernatural, stabilizing things as MagiTekk heaved its final breath.
And, under the watchful eye of its youngest director ever, the FBI had been purged of its corrupt personnel, honoring Supervisor Emma Janssen’s memory. But then, I’d expect nothing less from Roark. Freed from the shackles of his past, he could fulfill his true destiny.
I understood the feeling.
Malcolm Roark’s compound was quickly ransacked and drained for the diluted water. It appeared on black market sites and in shady alleys, its peddlers promising wild cures for everything from gunshots to hair loss. The diluted version gave you a nice feeling of warmth and offered some mild restorative effects.
But it didn’t do what people claimed. Nonetheless, ever searching for secrets and tonics, the public snapped it up.
Meanwhile, Roark kept a watchful eye over the real deal. It’d eventually made its way beneath MagiTekk’s former HQ—but not for the purpose of building a successor to Malcolm’s Ghosts. Instead, it would be carefully meted out to heal a world which had suffered many wounds in the past twenty years.
I watched the multi-story newscast play on the building across from Kendrick’s bar. Bag over my shoulder, wearing familiar clothes, I walked through the empty streets, accompanied by the clips of the week: Eden and I infiltrating Malcolm Roark’s compound. Santa Fe in flames from Malcolm’s demonstration of power. Eden shifting from a coyote. Her and Roark shaking hands, declaring a new era of cooperation and peace between humanity and the supernatural. The President emerging from whatever hidey-hole he’d scurried to after Santa Fe had burned. The announcement of the suspension of the internment camp program.
It ended with a pardon of Kalos Aeon, who had been “unfairly demonized” for being different. I had to smile at the pun. At least the public finally could acknowledge his role in saving the world not once, but twice. Maybe there was such a thing as karma.
Or maybe it was just luck.
He was busy feeding Nadia Santos some of the source, anyway, so I doubted he’d show up for them to pin any medals on his chest. Roark had given him a barrel of water to pursue his mission of creating a new goddess.
Kalos believe it would heal the world. Roark was optimistic about the possibilities.
I thought they were both morons playing with fire. At least Kalos finally felt like he had fulfilled his true destiny: bridging the divide between the mortals and supernatural. Whether his would-be goddess would end up trying to eat all our faces remained to be seen.
Forgive me for being cynical. In the past month, I’d dispatched a necromancer, crime lord, sorceress, cult leader, demoness, and CEO. Okay, I hadn’t pulled the trigger on all of them. But even with differing motives, the trend was clear: too much power was never a good thing.
My phone buzzed, and I answered.
“You’re famous, Ruby.” Alice was positively breathless. “They’ll probably build a statue of you.”
“I didn’t see that in my future.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nevermind,” I said, not wanting to get into the nitty-gritty of my Realmfaring powers. “Glad you’re excited.”
“I’m in Old Phoenix!” Alice actually squealed, forcing me to take the handset away from my ear. The moratorium had been lifted, the gate to the Fallout Zone permanently opened. Creatures were blood-tested for radiation sickness or anything contagious, but otherwise, they were free to come and go as they pleased.
“You’ve been to Old Phoenix before.” Hell, I’d been with her in Old Phoenix not one month ago.
“Like, without sneaking in, Ruby.”
I didn’t know why she was excited about visiting the ruins. But I guess they were palatial in comparison to the Fallout Zone.
Adjusting my bag, I said, “I’m happy for you.”
“We should celebrate. Oh my god, we totally need to celebrate.”
“Call Roark,” I said, staring at the horizon.
“You’re no fun, Ruby.”
“There’s still a few things I have to do on my own.”
“Errands? Maybe we can get drinks after—”
“It’ll take longer than that,” I said. “Take care, Alice. And stop cutting your own bangs.”
I heard her fangs click out in annoyance on the other end as I hung up.
Smiling, I walked down the streets.
Alone, but at peace with what where my journey would take me next.
EPILOGUE
Three Years Later
“You’re an ugly son of a bitch, you know that?” I growled, wiping a thin strand of blood from my lips. The troll roared, a foul stench greeting me from across the open lot. His dead companion lay in a twisted heap nearby atop a dead vampire. A long sword staked them together.
Not quite the lightning blade. But it did the trick, considering that knife had disappeared with the collapse of the Tributary.
The troll pawed the ground, his hairy face twisted in hatred. His two yellowing, cracked tusks reflected the neon light of the Vegas strip. Flipping the spiked club in his broad hand, he unleashed another growl.
After the Tributary had collapsed, some enterprising individuals had seen fit to search for the Realm Rifts and other ways of traveling between the worlds, wondering what sordid treasures might lay hidden within.
This particular would-be entrepreneur had been the aforementioned deceased vampire. Eager to crack open the Realm Rift and explore the riches it might offer.
Unfortunately for him—and the other idiots who had stood in my way over the past three years—that ran counter to my interests.
With a smirk, I reached for my back and removed the shotgun. Time for the heavy artillery. With a weary hand, I racked the slide, breaking the cloaking wards. The familiar sound cutting across the empty lot.
The troll cocked its head stupidly at the sight of the gun.
“What, you thought I’d come out here with only a knife?”
It stampeded across the dust and I fired once. A red light erupted like a firework, hitting him in the chest. The beast stopped, confused for a moment.
Then he exploded, showering the area with troll chunks. His head bounced through the dirt, rolling to a stop next to my boot.
Martin’s rounds were impressive. I understood what he meant by stand back, though.
Staring at the handiwork, I sighed. Now the real work began. I returned to my bag of supplies hidden around the corner, taking out a folding shovel and a cluster of C4. Then I headed to the exposed door of the Realm Rift.
Glancing at the expired vampire, I said, “You got further than most, bud.”
I armed the C4 and started the countdown timer before tossing it into the hole. Then I threw the wooden hatch shut and hastily shoveled dirt on the entrance. After giving it one last pat, I took a step back and stared at the tiny mound.
Wiping the dirty sweat from my brow, I reflected on the last three years of work. Everything had come full circle. More than thirty years ago, I’d taken Harcourt Leblanc through this very Rift, buried in the sub-vault of the Golden Tiger. And now, three decades on, his path of chaos had charted a circuitous route back here.
Not that I gave him any credit.
Fuck that guy.
I threw the shovel on the pile and stared. Then, heart skipping a beat, I placed the shotgun on the dirt pile. To the starry night, I whispered, “I’m no longer a hunter. I’m something more.”
That would be the gun’s epitaph.
I strode away from the final remaining Realm Rift, not looking back as a gigantic fireball erupted in the neon-bathed night. My job was complete. The final link between the worlds was severed.
Well, unofficial link. The standard channels remained open—but as part of legislation passed soon after MagiTekk’s fall, they were monitored, like the borders between countries. Someone couldn’t dance through the entrance to the Fae Plains without proper identification.
The law had made no mention of the Realm Rifts or other weak spots, like the one Odessa had ripped through the Tributary. So I had taken it upon my shoulders to close them, one-by-one. Wandering the globe, evading the local authorities and supernatural hoodlums as I did my thankless work.
Pearl had been wrong. My journey hadn’t ended at the source.
That was merely where my true purpose had been born.
I brushed dirt from my hands as I walked up the strip, taking in a world of infinite possibility. This chapter in Earth’s existence was finally over—a lengthy chapter that could now be relegated to the history books.
The wisps danced in the air, cutting a path through the brilliant neon glow. I peered at them, the swirl of colors charting a strong path with no set end. Curious, I wound my way through the city, listening to the chime of slots and the merry drunkenness of tourists seeking to escape their lives. My intuition led me to a clothing shop, still open at this hour. A holoscreen played on the window, bearing news of a fiery explosion. The ticker suggested it was the most recent in a long spate of suspected arsons that spanned the globe.
“You’ll never get things right, will you?” I rolled my eyes as the talking head vehemently condemned my “dangerous and irresponsible” actions.
If only he knew.
I pulled the door open, stepping inside the pristine shop.
A short man hurried to greet me, looking surprised to have a customer so late. He pushed his thick framed spectacles up his nose and cleared his throat.
“Miss, we’re closing.”
“I’m just browsing,” I said, following my intuition toward the back rack.
“Really, I have to lock the register, you see, and—”
“How much for this?” I looked at the dress, dumbfounded. The wisps danced around it furiously.
“That? It’s not on sale.”
“On sale?” I glanced at my dirty jeans and shirt and smiled, realizing he was an asshole. “I came right from work.”
“And what work would that be? Dumpster diving?”
“It can be shoving my boot straight up your ass.”
“Fine.” The small man gave an elitist sigh and shuffled over. He took the dress off the rack, holding it up for me.
A dead ringer for the little black dress I’d picked out three years ago. Waited and waited for Roark in, as he’d run off to uncover the truth about his brother’s death. Fate was whispering in my ear, urging to give him a call.
“It’s five-ninety-nine,” the clerk finally said. “You want it?”
He snapped his fingers and let out an annoyed huff when I didn’t answer. I glanced at him, then at the black dress. Something felt off. It wasn’t really me.
“Not my style, right?”
“Maybe you should try a less expensive place.”
I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a small pouch of gold coins. No one said that closing Realms had to be devoid of profit. I’d acquired them from a group of marauders in an eventful trip to the Planes of Eternal Woe.
I wouldn’t suggest visiting. The name was fairly accurate.
They’d wanted to keep the Realm Rift open.
I’d disagreed.
Their loss.
The clerk’s eyes almost bulged beyond the glasses. “I’m, uh—I apologize miss. Clearly, your appearance is not reflective of your—”
“It’s accurate enough.” I wasn’t the ball gown type. Those sessions in the forest had long become part of the fabric of my soul. Imprinted upon my bones, as Aiko had put it.
I walked past the rack, ignoring the wisps. At the end, tucked in a corner all alone, was a snug red dress.
I handed it to the salesman. “This is me.”
The clerk blinked, his gaze shifting between me and the dress. “It is.”
He wasn’t lying. Ruby was adventurous. Bold. Making a statement. Never afraid of standing out.
I’d decided all that long ago.
And now, today, I was adding one final piece to the story.
She believed in second chances.
And new beginnings.
The gentle fragrance hovered in the bedroom’s crisp air, lingering lazily on the sheets. It mingled with the familiar aftershave, fighting for aromatic dominance. Eden Marshall’s new perfume line wasn’t bad. A girl could certainly do worse.
The apartment was modern and elegant, but nothing ostentatious. Those days of corporate extravagance were long over. The biggest luxury was a piece of art salvaged from Malcolm Roark’s collection. The Fall of Icarus, if I was correct.
I wondered if it was the real thing or merely a good forgery.
But I think it served its purpose either way: a gentle reminder to be mindful of arrogance.
The wisps hovered excitedly by the bedroom’s entrance as the electronic key buzzed in the front door. Footsteps tapped on the hardwood before stopping sharply. A pistol cocked. Then two fierce blue eyes peeked into the bedroom, accompanied by the gun’s barrel.
The fierce gaze melted into an expression of stunned surprise.
“A little dramatic, don’t you think?” I gave the eyes a wide smile.
“You—you broke in,” Roark said, stating the obvious as he walked inside, taking me in.
“Is that a problem?”
Roark’s handsome jaw was twisted in confusion. “I’m just—I don’t know.”
“I think the correct words are, you look amazing, Ruby.” I held the smile. “And wow, it’s fucking incredible to see after three years.”
I bit my lip, wondering if that was too bold.
But Roark grinned.
“That doesn’t even begin to cover it.” Roark sat down next to me on the bed. He no longer wore the short sleeve polo in honor of his brother, trading it in for a well-fitted dress shirt and tie. “So, red, huh?”
“You like it?” I turned toward him, pursing my lips suggestively.
“I love it.”
“Then you better get me out of this thing, because it’s uncomfortable as hell.”
And I’d waited a long time.
Roark reached over and brushed his hand through my hair, letting his firm, strong fingers trace slowly down my neck to the zipper. He paused and winked, then pulled gently, the red dress falling off my shoulders.
Everything disappeared around us. The past, the present, the future.
Who we were or what we might become.
None of it mattered.
Because, in this moment, our journeys were finally complete.
THE END
Table of Contents
Copyright
Table of Contents
Also by D.N. Erikson
Get Bone Realm
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter
23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Epilogue
Blood River (The Ruby Callaway Trilogy Book 3) Page 17
