by Dima Zales
I try to shove aside these contemplations so I can focus solely on getting to Nero, but everything reminds me about my new situation. Like the running itself. It’s incredible. I’m moving faster than I ever have, yet my breathing is impressively even.
Zooming through the next corridor, I try to go into Headspace—in the hopes that turning into a vampire reset my seer gas tank.
Nope.
I’m still out of juice—that is, if I still have my seer abilities at all.
Are there seer vampires? Is that a thing?
Before I can get too scared, I recall that Lucretia kept her empath abilities and relax.
I’m probably going to regain my seer mojo in a day or so.
Assuming I live that long.
Then more questions pop into my mind.
Am I going to become a monster, eating people left and right?
No, I decide after a moment. Lucretia and Vlad are pretty civilized, so why not me?
Still, I’m not entirely sure how vampires are regarded in the vampire community, if there’s any stigma that goes along with drinking. Specifically, I can’t help wondering if Nero will still like me like this.
I certainly hope so. Looks-wise at least, I’m going to be set for the rest of my un-life—and I believe he likes my looks.
Of course, if I’d known I’d be stuck like this forever, I’d have hit the gym harder over the past year. And would’ve gone on a diet. I would’ve then enjoyed eternity with washboard abs.
Oh, well. At least I whitened my teeth a few months back. My fangs will look nice and healthy as I sink them into my victims’ necks.
Turning the corner, I see the path that leads to the lab and decide to take a little detour.
The lab looks just like before, with Itzel’s books and instruments sprawled all over the place.
My gun is also where I left it, so I grab it and stash it in my waistband.
Though gunpowder is unlikely to work on the technologically backward dragon world, the weapon might come in handy during my trip there.
Fighting the temptation to test my vampire-senses-boosted aim, I sprint to the hub room.
The mirror-like floor there lets me take a look at myself.
Like my hands, my face is a bit paler than usual, but I otherwise look the same.
Except for when I will my fangs to come out. Because they do, and make me look ready for Halloween.
If I were allowed to show this to people, it would make an amazing “illusion.” Speaking of that, I could also glamour people and sell that as hypnosis, except it would be so much better than what mentalists usually do on stage.
Assuming I can figure out how to glamour someone.
I imagine that, to start, I’d need to make my eyes turn into mirrors.
My vision feels funny, and I look down again.
Double wow.
My eyes are mirrors, just from me wishing for them to be that way.
Great. I’ll try to glamour someone as soon as an opportunity arises.
For now, I turn my eyes back to normal and face the gate leading to Gomorrah.
Which is when Eric, Thalia, and Felix poof into existence right between me and my goal.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Dude,” I say to Felix when I find my tongue. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t want you to die, so I spoke to Eric and he—”
“You little traitor,” I hiss at him, then pivot toward Eric. “You’re too late, by the way. I already died.” I expand my fangs and smile. “Luckily, it turns out I was a pre-vamp after all.”
Thalia glances worriedly at Eric, while Felix gapes at me.
“Wow. Is that a magic trick?” He sounds appropriately awestruck. “If so, it’s your best one yet.”
“No.” Eric examines me with a frown. “She’s missing her Mandate Aura, like all newly turned vampires do.”
Oh yeah. That happened to Lucretia also. And—speaking of auras—now that I lack mine, I can’t see theirs anymore. I guess you need the Mandate aura in order to see one.
“But you said you weren’t a pre-vamp,” Felix says, his unibrow wiggling in confusion. “You saw yourself die in visions and didn’t turn.”
“Maybe I didn’t watch my dead body long enough,” I say with a lisp, thanks to the fangs.
“No, I doubt that,” Felix says. “I’ve heard it said that some pre-vamps don’t turn when they die unless they first drink blood from a powerful vampire—and you drank Lilith’s blood today. I bet that’s what did it.”
“Oh yeah, I heard something like that from Lucretia,” I say with a lisp, then hide my fangs. “That would mean mommy dearest saved my life yet again. In a manner of speaking, anyway.”
“Yeah,” Felix says sarcastically. “That woman’s a saint.”
“How about the two of you finish your conversation at the apartment?” Eric suggests, his frown deepening.
“What?” I glare at him. “Did you just seriously suggest I go to the apartment? Didn’t Felix tell you that Nero is going to die without my help? His own—”
“Nero is already going to be furious about me letting you lose your pre-vamp life,” Eric says. “If you also die the final death, so will I.”
“You don’t get it. He will die if I don’t go.”
“I gave my word,” the teleporter says, his jaw tightening. “He knew the risks before he left, but he still forbade me from letting you get yourself killed.”
Crap. We’ve had a version of this conversation before—in a vision where I tried to see what would happen if I asked Eric for help.
Nothing worked that time—but that was when I was trying to be nice.
“I’m not going home.” I put my hands on my hips. “And before you even think about it—I’m no longer that easy to handle.”
Just as in my visions, a look of stubborn determination settles on Eric’s face.
“Are you okay with this insanity?” I ask Thalia. “Are you going to help him?”
Thalia looks at me, then at Eric, then shakes her head.
“See,” I tell Eric. “Thalia isn’t with you, nor is Felix.”
“Hey,” Felix objects. “I didn’t say that. I don’t think you should—”
Not listening to the rest, I turn my eyes into mirrors, stare at Felix, and in a honey-laced voice say, “You will not interfere with me going.”
“I will not interfere with you going,” Felix says in that robotic tone glamour-controlled people use.
Damn.
I can’t believe that just worked.
Felix must be extra vulnerable to glamour. That, or it’s a side-effect of the vampire blood he drank earlier today. I remember something like that happened to Ariel.
Emboldened by the success, I turn my glamour gaze on Eric. “You will not interfere with me going either.”
His eyes narrow. “Your vampire mind tricks won’t work on me.”
I look at Felix to see if he noticed how close that was to a quote from his least favorite Star Wars episode, but my roommate is still under my glamour.
“Move out of my way, or Thalia and Felix will hold you down as I leave,” I tell Eric.
Instead of a reply, Eric grabs Felix and Thalia by their shoulders and disappears.
Great. I thought he might do that. Now for my plan A—reaching the gate before he comes back.
I sprint forward as fast as I can, but also set everything up for a plan B, in case Eric’s teleportation is too fast.
I’m only halfway to my destination before Eric is in my path again—alone this time.
My hand moving gunslinger-fast, I raise the gun I recovered from the lab.
“Let me go or I’ll shoot you.” I stop, aiming the gun. “Or better yet, come with me and actually be useful for a change.”
Eric disappears again, then reappears next to me and grabs the gun. Before I can even blink, he disappears with the gun.
Crap. At least I got to see him in acti
on, which might come in handy.
In the next moment, Eric reappears next to the Gomorrah gate and tosses the gun inside it.
All right. If plan B doesn’t work, Nero is screwed.
I pull out a knife and say, “If you come anywhere near me, I’ll stab you.”
Eric disappears again.
I start a chopping motion with my knife before he reappears.
He shows up just outside my knife’s reach and extends his hand to grab my wrist.
Only his fingers close on empty air because—his teleportation aside—I’m now faster than he is.
The knife continues its arc, and lands on the wrist of my left hand.
With a fountain of blood, my hand falls off and hits the floor.
Eric stares at it in shock, and I can see the thoughts on his face.
First realization: Vampires can’t regrow appendages.
Second: Nero is going to be murderous.
Chapter Thirty
Using Eric’s shock to my advantage, I stab him with Woland’s syringe.
Eric tries to jerk away, but I push the plunger before he gets the chance.
“I didn’t actually lose that arm,” I tell him as I watch his eyes glaze over. “See?” I kick the fake hand and detach the special apparatus in my blazer that I finally got the chance to use.
He still looks shocked—or the drug is kicking in.
To ease his mind, I pull out my unharmed hand from its hiding spot in the left sleeve and show it to him. “Don’t feel bad,” I say. “You’re not the first person defeated by my illusions.”
Eric’s eyes roll back in his head, and he drops to the floor.
I check his pulse and find it steady, which makes sense. The dose in this syringe was meant for me—a smaller person.
Tossing the special prop knife on the floor, I run into the gate that leads to Gomorrah.
Stepping out on the other side, I look for the gun, but of course, it’s not there.
Itzel mentioned this feature of the gates. They don’t let objects through without a Cognizant attached to them.
Oh well. The gun wasn’t going to work on the dragon world anyway.
Ignoring the gorgeous Gomorrah skyline, I step into the gate that leads to the world where the hub looks like the one at JFK. Then, from there, a gate takes me into a world with rings like Saturn’s.
A turquoise gate later, I end up on the world with two suns. Around me is an island surrounded by a never-ending ocean, with millions of birds making such a ruckus, I’m happy to escape into the next gate.
I come out in a hub that’s another airport. This is the long leg of my journey. On this world, I have to travel from its equivalent of Newark airport to JFK. And, on top of that, suffer pretty gloomy scenery.
I dash through the secret corridors and come out in the airport proper—which is where I see the bodies.
Wow, I forgot how depressing this is.
The people look like dehydrated mummies and are everywhere. It’s clear that one moment they stood in line to pass security, then something sucked all life out of them.
No, not something.
Tartarus.
An uber-powerful Cognizant who—if I understand it right—can feed on whole worlds.
Jumping over bodies when I have to, I sprint out of this world’s Newark airport equivalent, trying to think of the best way to proceed from here.
The last time, we took a boat, but I don’t know if I can operate one by myself, or whether it’ll still be waiting for me on this side. Given my new vampire speed and stamina, it makes more sense to take a bridge and run the entire way.
Sprinting out of the airport, I enter the car cemetery that is the I-95N highway and run it like an obstacle course.
The husks of whole families stare at me sightlessly from inside the cars, but I do my best not to pay attention to them.
Channeling Forrest Gump, I just run and run—and when I get to the bridge, I run faster until I’m in this world’s equivalent of Manhattan.
It’s official.
Vampires have incredible stamina.
All this marathon-worthy running has made me about as tired as going up a steep flight of stairs.
Unfortunately, I still have many hours to go.
When I get to downtown, I can’t help but recall the last time I was here. We slept over in a hotel, and things got heated between me and Nero.
The X-rated images flip through my mind, and I feel an extra burst of motivation to save my boss.
His tongue skills alone are worth the trouble.
Pushing aside lascivious thoughts, I run into the tunnel, and when I exit on the Brooklyn side, I feel a pang of thirst.
Not the mind-blanking need that was there when I turned, but more like a parched sensation after a salty meal—or a desire to nap after a day in the sun.
Considering how long I’ve been running at full speed, a little thirst is pretty reasonable.
Which reminds me: I don’t need to either eat or sleep anymore—a strange concept.
If I survive, I’ll try sleeping and eating anyway, just to see what it’s like for a vampire.
Continuing to run, I try to forget about the thirst. I don’t have time to raid a blood bank, or figure out how to hunt the most dangerous game in this desolate world.
I’m on Belt Parkway, about an hour’s sprint from my destination, when a familiar motley crew of degenerates blocks my path.
Their faces are covered in burns and tattoos, and one of them is wearing a necklace of dried human ears.
We came across them—or a group just like them—on the last trip, only they were scavenging New Jersey at the time.
When they see me, they almost salivate from excitement, and hey, it’s pretty feasible they want to literally eat me.
With a chilling war cry, they raise their clubs and charge at me.
Chapter Thirty-One
I take the stance Thalia taught me, and when the first man tries to club me, I dodge with vampire speed, then grab his wrist and break it as though it were made from cardboard.
Before the club drops to the ground, I catch it and use it to whack the head of the next attacker.
The club cracks in two—and the guy’s skull does as well.
“I’ll give the rest of you one chance to leave,” I say and show them my now-extended fangs.
The last time, it took Nero’s dragon form to scare them off, so I guess I shouldn’t get offended that they don’t seem as impressed with my display.
When the next two idiots leap at me, I punch one in the chest—causing him to fly some ten feet back—and grab the other by the neck.
To my shock, I’m able to lift the guy off the ground and toss him at the next two attackers like a frisbee.
But the idiots still keep coming.
How tasty do I look?
“I don’t have time for this,” I say and ready my eyes for glamour. “Leave now, or I’m going to use you as Bloody Marys.”
The ear collector who’s leading the attack grunts something, and they keep on coming.
Fine, then. They’re asking for it.
Catching their gazes, I say in a seductive voice, “Stop.”
They halt in their tracks.
Clearly, whatever mental illness made them immune to Tartarus didn’t give them resistance to vampire glamour.
“You could’ve left.” I walk over to the one with the dried ears. “Now a promise is a promise.”
Leaning in, I bite his neck.
It’s crazy how the guy smells worse than a dead skunk’s dirty socks, yet I find him more appetizing than an ice cream sundae.
As I take a dainty sip of his blood, I have to suppress a moan of pleasure—because that would be weird.
Doing my best not to think of the kind of diseases that might be swimming in his blood, I take another sip.
My earlier thirst is gone.
Great.
Just to be a woman of my word, though, I drink a little from each
of the glamoured assholes.
Then I also drink from the knocked-out ones, just for the sake of fair play. They wouldn’t want to be the only ones to wake up without a hickey from hell, would they?
Realizing I’m wasting time, I leave the snacks alone and resume my run—now with an extra spring in my step.
When I get to the JFK airport clone, I speed up to the point where the dead husks are a blur in the periphery of my vision.
Swiftly reaching the secret door, I whoosh to the hub, realizing as I run that I managed to get here in a third of the time it took us to cover this distance before.
Inside the hub, I jump into my target gate and proceed from there, taking gate after gate until I get to a world that that looks like Mars.
Looking around, I do my best to recall which gate we took the last time we were here.
Crap.
I should’ve written it down.
I do not want to get lost in the Otherlands.
Taking a guess, I jump into a gate and end up in a familiar dusty world with too many moons.
Phew.
Not lost anymore.
I think.
Hopefully.
After going through a few more gates, I reach another world where I’m not sure where to go, but then a pink gate looks vaguely familiar, so I enter it and end up in a world-sized forest.
Yes.
This is where Nero yelled at me for risking my life to save his.
And here I am doing it again. Oops.
If I’m right, the gate over to the right should take me to a snowy world.
And it does. I step into a frozen wasteland with white penguin-like birds.
Great.
The next world is also familiar. I recall wading through this crystal-clear shallow water.
Next, I go through a red gate into a world with too many stars, then a purple gate that leads me into a cavern where we bandaged Nero’s wounds.
Which means the green gate to my right should be the one that leads into the dragon world.
I step in and come out on the world with a silver Grand Canyon-like mountain ridge—just as depicted in Nero’s office painting.
Finally.
Dragon world.
From here, I just need to follow the map I saw in my vision until I reach Godiva.
