by Renea Mason
Dragging my attention to the fussing in the crib, I focused on Serra, who stared back at me with wide eyes. The chanting—it was her. I could hear her mind. She didn’t let up, continuing to babble a rhythmic chant. Beyond the screams and turmoil outside, our minds connected. Eyes—she was trying to show me Aristia’s eyes. The green flashes blinded me.
I ran to the safe hidden in the back of the closet, turned the combination to the correct numbers, and reached inside. Aristia’s eyes. They were the largest fragments of the goddess and Vidius’s prized possessions.
I gathered them, one in each palm, but they didn’t glow like the piercings and embedded gems in Vidius’s body. Once I’d plucked them from Celestine’s eye sockets, the light within the orbs had dimmed. But their power was unmistakable. The body had to be the answer to releasing their potential. But how?
I held the golf-ball-sized orbs in my hands and glanced down at my abdomen. If I could carry a baby…
Thankfully, there were still surgical instruments on a cart in the far corner of the bathroom. Overton’s proclivity for preparedness was most appreciated. I headed to the cart with a prayer on my lips for time.
I pulled open the protective covering on the suture kit. Sterile technique be damned—Cyril could cure me if we survived. I separated the packaging containing the scalpel. I set the orbs on the cart and lifted my nightgown over my head.
Ignoring Clarence’s “What the fuck are you doing?” echoing through my head, I sliced quickly. My eyes watered from pain. I gritted my teeth to cage the groan.
Blood flowed down my stomach, soaking my white underwear. Blinding pain consumed me as I forced the orb into the incision. The sound and feel of my flesh giving way made my stomach churn. But it had to be done. The scalpel, dripping with my blood, sunk into my abdomen again. My knees buckled when I rammed the second orb into my flesh. I hadn’t the steadiness to suture the wounds.
Serra cried. I raced to her without a thought and picked her up. “Sweetheart, if you can understand me, please know I’ll take care of you. You are everything to me.”
My breasts leaked with the sound of her crying and the milk mixed with my blood, making pink streams cascade across my abdomen. I held her to me, swaying back and forth to settle her. I couldn’t chance Vidius hearing her. She nestled her head against my shoulder and grew quiet. Her tiny hand rested on my collarbone. I rocked and soothed her for another moment before laying her back down in her blood-soaked blankets. There was no time to change them now.
I looked down at my wet, pink gown and drew my hands to my wounds in astonishment. Healed. I was healed. Two lumps were evident under the mended skin. “No fucking way.”
Clarence’s head perked up at my exclamation, his thoughts racing. “What?”
I wiped away the blood from the incision.
“What did you fucking do now?”
“No idea.” I slipped the nightgown back over my head, the stains from my makeshift surgery seeping through the white cotton. A surge of strength rushed through my body, restoring my stamina. I could feel the power becoming part of me. Fueling me. I refocused my sight, and I could see things I couldn’t before. Everything had an aura, not just things with magic. I saw almost everything down to the molecular level.
Even though she was just an infant, Serra radiated power. Beside her crib, I crossed my legs and folded myself onto the floor. I reached with my mind, pulling nearby magic to me. “Niam Parnum Omsti Narum.” Over and over, the chant fell from my lips. “Niam Parum Omsti Narum.”
Wave after wave of magic infused me. From the ocean, the earth, the nearby streams, I called the forces to me.
As the power filled me, my senses grew more acute. He was here, in the castle. He was coming for her. The magical words continued to flow one syllable after another. My muscles grew taut with the strength of the energy filling me.
“Clarence, guard Serra.”
I moved the dresser away from the door. I could hear his stealthy footfalls in the hall. After retrieving one of Cyril’s swords from his collection on the wall, I fisted the hilt. I backed into a corner so I wouldn’t be detected when he entered.
The knob turned, and the door opened. Though it appeared no one entered, I could see his magical aura. He was not invisible to my eyes.
As a distraction, I yelled, “Clarence, I think the wind blew the door open. The storm must be picking up.” It wasn’t a lie. Clouds had moved in, shielding the battle from the sun, and the ocean breeze now blew in gusts.
Vidius paused with my words but a moment later started toward me.
I readied my sword and struck, burying the blade deep in his chest. I kicked him square in the abdomen, slamming him into the wall, which dislodged my blade so I could ready for another strike.
Clarence growled from behind me when Vidius’s cloaking wavered and revealed his true form.
“Were you looking for me?” I glared at him from behind the blood-stained blade of the sword.
He groaned and righted himself, pulling a knife from a sheath on his belt, and muttered, “Not exactly, but you do have a few things that belong to me.”
I swung again, but this time he dodged. “She’s my daughter. You can’t have her.”
“But I created her. Do you know how many hundreds of years it took to get the genetics right? I was surprised at how fast Cyril found you. I needed your womb, a human sperm donor, and Cyril’s magic to come together at just the right time, along with your ingestion of Aristia’s essence. How perfect it was to find you and Overton there, alone at the compound, and knowing that fool, Cyril, would rescue you. Tell me, is Cyril still as vile as ever? Did he fuck you right there with Overton present? What about you, did you let them fuck you at the same time?”
“None of your goddamn business.”
Blood seeped from his chest, one green bar dangling from a flap of skin. He took a step in my direction.
I continued to mumble the words Cyril taught me in my mind, drawing more energy and drowning out Clarence’s racing thoughts. “You know she spoke to me?”
“Who?”
“Your fucked-up goddess.”
His brow wrinkled in disbelief. “Impossible. Aristia needs a host.”
“She possessed the Celtic girl and then tried to kill me.”
“Do you think your stories will frighten me?”
I paused, realizing what he had just given me. “Frightened? What gave you the impression I thought you’d be frightened?” It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. I tried to control my smirk. “Aristia seemed pretty pissed about your plan.”
“How do you know my plan?”
“I just told you.” I never took my eyes off him.
“No matter what distractions you think you have, I’m not leaving without two things. The child and the Scottish girl.”
“The Scottish girl is dead.”
“Impossible. Aristia’s fragments keep her from dying.”
I stepped to the side, lining up for another strike. “Let’s just say I solved that problem.”
He halted midstep.
Clarence screamed in my mind through the closed door where Serra lay silent. “Remember what Cyril said. You shouldn’t kill him. When he killed Ruarc, and you killed Michael, it caused rips in the fabric of the world. If you kill him, you could really fuck shit up for everyone. You’re fucking glowy and shit because of those orbs in your stomach. Be careful.
Vidius snarled, “What did you do with her eyes?”
“The only way you’ll find them is over my dead body.”
“So be it.” He lunged at me, but I parried his strike.
My only goal was to keep him away from Serra. Using a move Rhys taught me long ago, I pivoted and swung. My sword bit into his bicep, missing its target.
Pulling the sword from his flesh, I readied for the next blow. I’d gotten Clarence’s message loud and clear. I needed to incapacitate him but not destroy him. Destroying him might end us all.
Another swing. Another
groan. More splatters of blood on the walls. He was so fucking big that hacking him limb from limb would take forever. Too bad he didn’t have a soul.
I glanced at the safe where we kept Aristia’s fragments and considered the knife that had incapacitated Cyril. It would kill Vidius, but it would kill the world along with him.
Regardless, I felt powerful. A quick look out the window revealed Cyril ripping the soul from a Joseph and Overton engaged in battle.
Another parry. Another block.
Vidius hissed, “Cyril’s trained you well. You are far more formidable than I expected.”
“Rhys trained me.”
A loud scream drew my attention to the window again.
The tip of his knife grazed my forearm. Blood rushed to the surface, but I didn’t flinch.
“Why do you keep looking out the window?” His face wrinkled with contemplation, and he held his strike. “Wait, I smell his blood. You have his blood. No wonder you are so powerful. This leaves me with several options. Care to hear them?”
“I don’t care what you have to say, you’re not getting my daughter.” I planted the sword in his thigh. He didn’t even bother to block me. When I pulled the weapon free of his muscled limb, he reached out with his long arm and grabbed me by the throat, lifting me off the ground. I released the sword, my fingers unable to hold on. He slammed me into the stone wall and pressed his body against mine. “Maybe now you’ll hear my proposal. I’m tired of playing your games.”
My ribs ached from the pressure of his weight pinning me, and the orbs I surgically hid in my abdomen pressed on something vital. Pain radiated through my torso. I bent my elbows and shoved, trying to push him off me. I needed more magic.
While he muttered compromises I had no interest in, I sought a way to overcome him.
“You intrigue me. Join me. You can raise your daughter, and together we can end Cyril’s murderous ways.”
I didn’t respond but continued to focus on the words.
His hand tightened around my throat, choking off my words and leaving me no choice but to mouth, “Never.” But I continued chanting the magical syllables in my mind.
His tightening fist closed off my airways. Why couldn’t he have a fucking soul? What use was it having a superpower if it was ineffective against your foe?
I tried to gasp, but there was no air. I’d be dead soon if I didn’t get him to release me. Serra needed me. I couldn’t let him take her.
Calling all my will, pulling even more power from the fragments beneath my skin, I allowed the magic to ripple through me, using my nerves as pathways.
I fell to the floor as Vidius cried out in pain, clutching his arm.
Air filled my lungs, but my victory was temporary.
“What did you do?” His charred skin blistered as he examined my damage. “What are you?”
My gravelly voice rasped from behind my smirk. “Shouldn’t you know? You created me. Bred my ancestors like lab rats. I’m everything you dreamed of and more.”
“That shouldn’t be possible. The child is the vessel, not you. You’re human. This can’t be.”
My sword lay mere feet away. Extending my arm to reach for it, I was stopped short.
Vidius plunged his knife through my chest. My heart contracted around the blade.
With a thud, my head hit the floor. The blackness I expected did not come, but I lay incapacitated, waiting for oblivion. The signals my brain sent to my limbs went unanswered.
Vidius opened the door to the bathroom.
Clarence pounced, latching onto his throat.
Their growls and groans mixed to create a symphony of agony and determination.
A clink caught my attention, amid the flailing limbs and splatters of blood peppering the room.
In the next moment, I heard nothing but the beating of the blood in my ears. Even the thuds that should have sounded when Clarence thrashed against the wall did not penetrate the thumping. The knife once embedded in my chest fell to the floor. The wound closed, and my heart began to beat once again. I didn’t have the luxury of contemplating my gift. Clarence’s limp body slammed against the floor in front of me, his mind silent.
Vidius wasted no time heading to Serra’s bassinet. My daughter. There was no way he would have her.
I glanced across the room to see the open closet, the gleaming handle of the knife that had destroyed Michael shining like a beacon. A soft chant manifested in my head. Urging me. Begging me. Compelling me to do anything to save her. The Earth be damned. This was my child. She was the key to saving us all.
Scrambling to my feet, I stumbled over Clarence’s body, nearly falling into the closet.
Vidius emerged with Serra in his arms.
I hadn’t the time to revel in his look of surprise before rushing him, wrapping one arm around my child as I rammed the blade into his stomach.
“Just returning the favor,” I mumbled before being electrocuted by his destruction. My body contorted with the blast and Serra fell to the ground, but she didn’t cry. Shimmery powder floated in the air, and tiny fragments of green rained down upon the floor.
My limbs convulsed with each jolt. The room filled with flashes of lightning. The ground shook, and my skin burned with trails of fire. None of that mattered. Serra and Clarence were all I could think of. The pain, though unbearable, took a back seat to concern for my daughter. I shifted, dragging myself toward Serra and gathered her into my arms. I brushed the dust from her face, examining her head for damage from the fall. She looked up at me with innocent eyes, blinking away the tiny particles that had once been Vidius.
I was so thankful she was alive and safe. Tears of relief, regret, and pain slipped down my cheeks and landed on her face, forming muddy pools from the dust.
I pivoted, clutching her to my chest, and crawled to Clarence. His chest rose and fell, but his mind was silent. I didn’t have the strength to heal him. Slumping against his still warm body, I peered out the window, waiting for Cyril to come and take me to task for endangering the world. Regardless, given the same situation, I’d do it all again. The bond between mother and child was even more powerful than the one that bound my soul.
The sky outside crackled with electricity, and the battle cries rose from the floors below. What had I done? Had I damned us all?
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Possession
Clarence’s incoherent thoughts in my head offered me a glint of hope. I clutched Serra to my chest, still sobbing through the tears that would heal nothing.
Clarence twitched, muscles quivering under his skin. He was changing back. I stood, giving him room to complete his transformation. A glance out the window revealed a battleground littered with bodies just like Clarence’s. I blinked and refocused my sight, searching for their souls. There were none. Cyril had done his job.
I cringed, thinking about the dire repercussions that could have occurred had Cyril performed his calling just moments after my heart had stopped.
The sound of the door opening downstairs stole my attention. Clarence could use privacy, so I headed down to intercept the other men.
I leaned down and stroked my hand over the soft fur of Clarence’s head and whispered, “Thank you.”
Serra and I descended the stone staircase into the main hall. The men, bloodied and battered from battle, crowded around something on the couch. Cyril hunched over one end of the sofa and pivoted his head to make eye contact with me but remained silent. I padded across the floor to glimpse what held their attention. I gasped, and Overton ran to me, wrapping Serra and me in his arms.
Dominic’s mangled body lay stretched across the sofa.
I had seen Overton recover from serious injuries, so I didn’t understand the somber tone in the room. “Cyril, why aren’t you healing him? He’s going to die if you don’t.”
His exhale carried the weight of a thousand lifetimes.
“What? Do you need me to do it?” I twisted out of Overton’s arms and rushed toward Dominic.
The rumble in his chest grew as the word escaped. “No.”
I jerked to a stop, about to protest, when he interrupted my thoughts. “It’s impossible. He’s dead. He can’t be healed.”
“But…”
He snarled through gritted teeth. “He was collateral damage. I didn’t know his wound was critical when I called the souls.”
My hands flew to my mouth, holding back a sob. The very thing I’d worried about happening to me had happened to Dominic.
Cyril mumbled under his breath, “I’ll see he gets a proper burial.” He stopped to take in Serra’s state but then fixed me with his gaze. “But now I need to clean up your mess.” His eyebrow rose, and his expression grew cold. “It seems we have more to talk about than just the mess upstairs. What did you do?” He stared at my stomach, no doubt seeing the energy of the stones.
He could scold me all he wanted; my answer would always be the same. “I protected our daughter. You can thank me later.”
He held my gaze for an uncomfortable period and then ascended the stairs.
Sinclair, Thor, and Rhys huddled around to check on Serra and me, but couldn’t get close enough because Overton refused to let us go.
Rhys brushed my hair away from my ear and whispered, “You two were all I could think about. We had to destroy them.” He wiped a smudge of blood from my face. “I’m so sorry.”
“There is nothing to be sorry about. If that horde had made it inside, I couldn’t have handled Vidius.”
He cupped my cheek, and it looked as though he might kiss me. “I would have gladly fallen to keep you safe. Dominic’s death was not in vain.”
Given the emotions swirling in the room and his dedication to Serra and me, I placed my lips against his and whispered, “Thank you.” The kiss was not passionate, but rather, familiar. Overton did not tense or protest as I expected. Instead, he smiled and patted Rhys’s arm.
Rhys pressed another kiss to my temple and then to Serra’s before wandering into another room. Thor and Sinclair followed suit. Their affection was more than I had ever received from either man.
