by Cecy Robson
“Edith, stop at once,” Misha commands.
“You can’t hide…”
“Edith,” Misha hisses. He storms forward.
Tears leak from Edith’s eyes. She’s lost all control.
“You will beg for all to die.”
Misha shakes her hard. “You will not leave me,” he orders.
The intestines she carries drop in wet tufts at her feet. She resumes her singing, falling into hysterics. “Nyte has come, Nyte will kill.” Her gaze pleads with Misha to save her.
“Heal,” Misha commands. “No more of mine will succumb to the Fate.”
Hank and Tim rush Misha, trying to haul him away, worried she’ll infect him. The Catholic schoolgirls shriek through their tears, begging Edith to fight, to live.
Aric hauls Celia away when she lunges at Edith. “Edith, snap out of it,” she yells at her. “Don’t give in, you’re stronger than this.”
I stomp forward, Sparky lighting up like a flare and electrifying. I almost don’t remember, everything happens so fast.
Edith whips her face toward me at my approach, hissing in pain. I wrench Sparky back and smack Edith hard. Fangs shoot from her mouth, followed by several long strings of worms from her ears. The parasites land on the ground, writhing and dying in the night air.
Gemini catches me by the waist when I curl forward to vomit.
Edith falls limp in Misha’s arms. He grasps her chin and tilts it from side to side. “They’re gone,” he says. “All of them.”
“Well done, precious one,” Ileana says. She beams, unlike my sisters, who look as sick as I feel.
I straighten just enough to speak. “We have to get out of here,” I manage.
Aric places Celia on top of Koda before she can argue. “We’ll head to the perimeter farthest away from the road. They’ll expect us to charge the gates leading out, not the wall.”
I don’t manage a step toward Celia when something else appears.
From the ground a phantom rises, like tar poured in reverse, her liquid body solidifying as quickly as the next breeze passes. An aura of moonlight surrounds the grisly shape she takes, and a blood-red cloak covers the shoulders of her naked and grotesquely thin body. Her deep-set black eyes are too large for her face, despite her disproportionately large head. As she stands, the tips of her midnight hair skim the grass beneath her feet.
I zap the absolute shit out of her.
Gemini grabs me, hauling me away when she slaps at the ground, trying to stand. I zap her again. Take that, freak.
Gemini snags my wrists and shoves my hands down. “What did you do?” he asks me.
From her perch on top of Koda, Celia turns slowly my way, her stunned features matching Aric’s, my sisters’, and everyone who had the absolute pleasure of witnessing my rather impressive ass-kicking.
“What?” I ask.
“You shot Destiny’s messenger,” Gemini explains through clenched teeth.
“Twice,” Shayna points out.
“Her what?” I squeak.
“Dude.” Shayna hurries forward. “Witches, powerful ones like Destiny, always send messengers during times of war to speak for them. It preserves their energy.”
The “messenger” staggers to her feet, the scathing look she hits me with enough to cut me in two.
“Sorry,” I say, to like, everyone around me. “Look at the night we’ve had. When something ugly and creepy”—I hold up a hand—“no offense, girl, rises from the ground, I fire first and ask questions later. Besides, how the hell am I supposed to know what she is?”
“Ah, T,” Shayna mutters under her breath. “He’s a boy.”
Could have fooled me. Poor bastard.
“Taran,” Emme says, my humiliation reflecting in her red-hot cheeks. “Messengers are explained in the first chapter of Soothsayers and Mystics.”
I blink at her.
“It was one of the first texts you were assigned in witch school,” she reminds me.
Emme glances at all the beings continuing to gape at me. Damn. Even the Catholic schoolgirls are rendered speechless. “You did read the book, didn’t you, sweetie?” she asks.
Of course, I didn’t read the stupid book, or the one after that. Most of it was written in Shakespearenese and boring as hell, not that I can admit it. “He wasn’t what I expected,” I say. It’s the best non-lie I can muster. Damn these supernaturals and their ability to out the truth.
The messenger disappears, but not before flipping me the meanest, nastiest middle finger I’ve ever seen. I’m serious. That sucker was at least six inches long.
“The compound isn’t safe, my friends. You risk your lives the longer you remain among the grounds.”
We turn in the direction of Destiny’s voice. Her image fades in and out, like the reel of an old movie ready to tear from age. Destiny is hurt. The bruises covering her arms suggest they were broken, and the cuts lining her face and chest tell us she’s fought many, alone.
She lifts her hand and points, her fingers shaking. “The manor,” she says. “Each room holds its own danger and connection to Johnny. But once the room is clear of his creations, Fate can’t reclaim it, and he will weaken.”
“There are hundreds of rooms, Great Destiny,” Misha reminds her. “Allow us your true presence so we may protect and heal you.”
“I can’t, Dear Misha.” She shakes her head, the motion causing her pain. “In order to help you fight Fate, I had to become part of the house too. Each room you clear, I’ll claim as mine and use its magic to help me heal.”
“Will it heal you completely?” Aric asks. He looks to Emme. “Or can Emme help you?”
“Yes,” Emme says. She walks toward her with her arms outstretched. “Please let me ease your pain.”
Destiny’s smile is weak, but there. “The only way to help is to return to the manor. As I reclaim the magic for the side of good, it will improve my state and prevent my death.” Her gaze drops. “I wasn’t strong enough to defeat him…he hurt me badly.”
“I’m so sorry, Destiny,” Celia says. “I know you’re doing this to protect us.”
“Don’t be sorry, my dear friend,” Destiny replies. “Seek solace in the manor. All of you. Help me stop Johnny so I may live to see your children born.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing else we can do for you, Destiny?” I ask.
“No. Out here, these creatures aren’t connected to Johnny as they are in the house. They’re too new to the premises.”
“Are you saying it doesn’t matter how many we kill on the grounds?” Gemini asks.
“No, it does. Their deaths weaken him, too, but not to the degree of the creatures roaming the manor. As his vessels, they grew stronger and more akin to his power as they waited for him.” Destiny seems out of breath. “Johnny became one with the magic in the manor when he used his creatures to help infect it. Out here is too spacious even for him.”
Bren huffs. “Then let’s burn the whole shit down.” He looks at me. “Do your thing and get on it, T.”
“If you destroy the manor, you’ll take me with it,” Destiny says. “In order to create a haven for Celia and maintain Johnny’s weakness with every blow cast, I created a bond I’m currently too weak to break. For now, you can’t stay out here on the compound. The manor is the only place that will keep Celia safe.”
Destiny clasps her hand over her heart and falls to her knees. I race to her, stopping when I see the torment raging in her features. “They’re coming for you. Run.”
Chapter Seventeen
Destiny’s image fizzles out, and she’s gone.
Aric shouts orders to guard Celia as Koda takes off with her on his back. Aric races beside them in human form, his quick, powerful strides keeping up with Koda’s beast. Gemini rallies the most elite of the pack, directing them to surround and form a barrier around Celia.
I glance around, looking to hitch a ride, and almost jump out of my skin when I see what’s coming.
Nosferatu mu
st be one of Johnny’s favorite films because damn. The freaky bastards are back in droves. You know that scene in Braveheart when all those dirty, sexy Scots run through the field, screaming like the badass warriors they are? It’s not like that.
The Nosferatus come at us on all fours like bouncing cockroaches, digging their long, twisted nails into the ground to propel them forward. Instead of bellowing the war cry of their people, they giggle like creepy children out of Rob Zombie’s worst nightmare.
I’m only allowed one curse word before Gemini tosses me in the air. I scream—since that is the war cry of my people—and crash land on his twin’s back, gripping the tuff on his neck while his spine beats the hell out of my ass.
“Son of a bitch.”
The midnight-black twin swerves through the crowd of weres: bears, cheetahs, mountain lions, and wolves until only a few strides remain between Celia and me.
Celia glances behind her like she was born to ride a massive red wolf, her long hair flowing in the wind, her green eyes firing. “Where’s Shayna?”
“Coming, dudes!”
No, Shayna’s not just coming. Very unlike my pathetic entrance into the melee, Shayna runs and twirls like a seasoned ballerina. She lands on the rump of a grizzly, pushes off him, and uses the momentum to leap between the army protecting Celia.
Shayna lands on two graceful feet, riding Koda’s haunches, but not, absolutely not, before slicing a Nyte in half that scrambles up a tree and leaps from a branch.
The Nyte falls away in two splattering pieces, the part with the head still giggling his ass off. Shayna lowers herself in a split, riding backward to guard Celia’s back as Nytes swarm us from all directions.
“Bren has Emme,” she calls before we can ask.
The tone she carries as she swings her sword alerts me that they’re in trouble.
I fix my position to a less painful one and peer behind me. Bren and Emme remain several yards away from the rest of our group, and the Nosferatus are almost upon them.
A large Nyte assumes his shadow form and jets onto Bren’s back. The impact knocks Bren forward. He tucks Emme against him, protecting her as he rolls off to the side.
The only light guiding us is from the partial moon until I take aim and fire. Blue and white lightning cut through the darkness, galvanizing the aerial Nytes and forcing parts of their physical forms to materialize.
The weres fall back, tearing into the Nytes I strike. It gives Bren time to adjust Emme against him and stumble to his feet.
Pain scrunches his features, the limp evident in his stride no matter how hard he tries to hide it. Emme clutches his neck, pressing her face against his chest. She tells him something that twists his features. With an angry roar, Bren throws her ahead of him as the Nytes swarm him.
Emme shrieks, soaring into the air. I yell for Gemini to help her, certain she’ll fall to her death.
Except my baby sister doesn’t need any help.
Emme crosses her arms and whips them out in a “V,” tossing the cluster of Nytes fighting Bren with her force. The Nytes are thrown like LEGOs, slamming into trees and into the next set of Nytes that appear.
Bren changes. His large paws slide along the wet lawn when his injured leg gives. He ignores the pain, bounding forward, and charging toward Emme.
Emme uses her force to slow her fall. The landing, while jagged and awkward, gives Bren time to reach her and allow her to smoothly land on his back.
In his beast form, Bren is fast enough to reach the outer perimeter of the group, but not much farther. The manor comes into view, and yet another all-out brawl begins.
Weres collide into the Nytes I zap. If so much as a pinky is made physical, the weres rip into them, shaking them hard and forcing them to take shape. The Nytes giggle as they’re mutilated. I can’t tell if that’s the only sound they’re capable of, or if Fate is merely laughing at us. The weres interpret it as the latter and answer the insult with fangs and claws.
The vampires, our vampires, burst through the section of forest closest to Lake Tahoe. Misha and his crew cling to the back of a giant leechy thing, their skin covered in cuts and blood.
“Turn it,” Misha orders. He and his vamps hurtle themselves to the side, clutching the multiple legs along the creature’s underbelly. They pull hard, using their weight to drive the leech into the fleeing Nosferatus.
A hollow tongue slithers out from deep within the thing’s throat. It sucks the Nosferatus down like a vacuum hose and spits them out just as fast until all that remains are piles of black clumps.
This is the Nyte who killed Genevieve’s guards, and there’s Misha riding it like a hobby horse.
Misha is bold and smart to use the Nyte, and while we’ve collectively taken out many, the Nosferatus remain plentiful, and their streaming shadow forms are almost impossible to catch. But just as Fate has power, so does Aric. He snatches the shadows that near Celia, solidifying them in his grip. Those he and Gemini don’t maim with their bare hands, Shayna beheads, or Koda freaking eats.
It’s a fight to reach the manor. I hang on for dear life as Gemini’s twin careens over the stone steps leading from the lake and to the building.
The force of power from the water shoves at my back. Waves surge from the lake, each strike along the sand teasing my skin and demanding my focus. I ignore it, focusing on striking the circling Nytes. It’s not until we reach the lower terrace and the festering smell from the beach lurches my stomach, that I glance behind me.
The beach is overrun with rotting pieces of sea monsters. There are sections of gutted animals, remnants of large fins and broken teeth and bone. The lake is attacking and destroying Johnny’s creations. It’s just not fast enough, as the ward remains up. Like a mirror, the celestial blue water of the lake reflects against it and casts a spotlight on the Nytes flying toward us.
Whimpers, screams, yelps, and those damn giggles resonate from all sides. Sweat soaks my skin from my fire and every bit of energy I have left to keep it going.
The first of our group barrels through the rear entrance, trying to fit their massive bodies through a too-narrow space. The next few follow, including Celia and Shayna. Emme and Bren are still farther back. We’re almost there, but just like we want in, these Nytes want to keep us out.
I’m knocked away from Gemini’s twin when something crashes into me. I barely feel fangs snap near my throat. They’re gone as fast as they arrived.
Gemini’s twin takes a protective stance in front of me and allows me to use him to get to my feet. A giant lynx with scales protecting its ribs screeches as Gemini beats it do death against a rock. Black fluid splatters his bare chest. “Taran, get inside.”
Still winded from the fall and fight, I slip from the twin when I try to climb on. More Nosferatus scramble toward us. Gemini and his twin growl, throwing themselves at them. Damn it, most of us are still out here, and the vampires have only reached the first terrace.
My head spins with exhaustion as my magic builds. I let Sparky guide me, reaching into that deep space that demands fire and destruction. It’s not a place I like to go. Not when innocents may die. I warn them the best way I can, yelling even as my throat burns. “Ass kicking in three, two, one!”
Weres leap over, and the vampires scramble up anything they cling to, walls, statues, even each other as I slam my hands into the ground. I grunt in torment as ripples of blue and white flames shoot across and in front of me surging in size and length and burning everything in its path.
I can’t see through the clouds of smoking bodies, tears singeing my eyes as I pray only Johnny’s fucking minions are affected. I choke on the flames, wishing I could cover my ears when they catch and burn the leechy thing. My hands shake, and my spine threatens to crack from the ache of keeping the fire going. It’s not until Gemini clasps my elbow that I know to stop.
“Enough, Taran. We need to get into the manor.”
I allow him to lead me to my feet and steady me as I swipe at my face. Charcoaled
piles of creatures litter a large portion of the lawn closest to the lake, including what’s left of the leech, and soot cakes the stone terraces. Several smoldering trees fall over, my dwindling flames barely cast a dim light.
Slowly, the vampires make their way down from their posts, hurrying past and giving me ample space. Misha is the exception. As a master, fire won’t kill him. He pauses to wink at me before proceeding up the stairs.
“Is everyone okay?” I ask, finding it hard to speak.
“No,” he says. “We lost several on the way here.”
“But did I…?” I can’t find my words, but I don’t need them around Gemini.
“You allowed everyone else through. Now it’s our turn to head inside.”
Gemini sweeps me up into his arms, moving fast toward the manor. I glance at the destruction, noting how much ass I kicked. There’s nothing left really. Another tree topples down, scattering burning acorns like embers along a thick layer of ash that’s replaced the back lawn. Down on the beach, remains of the creatures sink into the sand as Tahoe buries its enemies. A harsh splash of waves brings more of Tahoe’s victims while the clouds clear, allowing the dull moonlight to poke through.
Gemini reaches the entryway, and still, I stare at the quiet behind us.
“Did I—” I cut myself off when I start coughing. “Did I get them all?”
Gemini shakes his head, his body soaked and his voice rough from battle. “No. There are more out there. I can hear them coming for us.”
Chapter Eighteen
Like Destiny said, the rooms where we fought are cleared of Johnny’s creations. They’re “clean” by supernatural standards, safe to walk through without fear of something skewering you through the heart and roasting you with its breath. Except “clean” doesn’t equate to pretty.
Instead of the expensive and treasured artwork, blood and body fluid decorate the demolished walls of the grand foyer. The most prominent stains are thickest at the entrance, where the leechy Nyte first appeared and murdered Genevieve’s guards. Gemini nods to the group of weres tasked with carrying the giant wolf Aric killed out. The thing lies in limp pieces. It’s very much dead after the pounding Aric gave it, but no less disturbing.
