Ryze Series: Books 1 & 2

by N. Isabelle Blanco

“You couldn’t ask for my permission first? How about Ismini’s?” Don’t try to harm her, Evesse. Sadistic insanity aside, she means well.

  I think.

  “No. Too much is at stake. Besides, you always wanted to be a superhero. There you go.”

  That famous Spidey line goes through my mind. With great power . . .

  Before I can lose my ever-loving mind, Dimithinia clears her throat.

  “And me? What is happening to me? Why can I see how those people are going to die?”

  Nylicia shrugs one shoulder. “You were dead for almost fourteen-thousand years before being resurrected. It makes sense that you would have a connection to death.”

  She’s lying.

  I know it.

  Dimithinia knows it, too. It’s obvious in the way she glares at Nylicia. “Why can you not just be forthcoming and tell me, ‘Dimithinia. You are not yet meant to know’?”

  Nylicia remains motionless, her eyes resembling bottomless pits. “I must leave. You are to meet with a human down there. She is known as Spari.”

  “A human?” Dimithinia asks.

  “Yes. She is my sister.”

  “Your sister?” There’s no way I heard that right.

  “Yes. My sister.”

  And still the bitch doesn’t move.

  “How can a human be your sister?” I ask.

  Nylicia finally turns, her irises surfacing among a sea of black. They’re a solid color, a light blue so bright that it’s almost white. “That is not my story to tell. If Spari wants to explain to you how she came to be as she is, then she will. She’ll be waiting for you down there.”

  I give up with a small inhale and decide to go along with it. “What exactly are we supposed to do with her?”

  “Go shopping with her, what else? That’s how you’ll find your male.”

  Nylicia disappears, not giving a damn that she’s leaving two confused females behind.

  Motherfucking bullshit. I better find Zen as she said. “Alrighty then. I don’t see how this is going to help, but let’s get to it.”

  Dimithinia nods. Together, we dematerialize and reappear behind the hospital, on a less congested street. It’s darker here and there aren’t as many people around.

  I still look both ways, making sure no one saw me appear out of thin air.

  Dimithinia and I walk side by side. A huge rat runs under the hospital fence, followed by another three, and I hiss, barely stopping myself from blasting them. We continue around the block and walk towards the corner.

  I keep my stare locked straight ahead, afraid to look at anyone. I don’t even need to see Dimithinia to know she’s doing the same thing. Neither of us want to focus too long on the humans around us. Seeing how people are going to die must suck ass for Dimi.

  For my part, I know that if I see one more crime, or feel one more wave of anger that demands punishment, I’ll launch myself, claws bared, at the first guilty motherfucker I find.

  Nope. Better to focus on finding Spari. Although, how are we going to pinpoint her amidst all the humans?

  I don’t have to wonder for long.

  A tiny female is leaning against the glass wall next to the entrance of Macy’s. She’s wearing large gold and black steampunk goggles perched on her head.

  Her large eyes are dark brown, her skin golden, and her long, dark hair falls in waves to her waist. She’s a good two inches shorter than Nylicia, but the resemblance is striking.

  They even have the same exact cheekbones.

  I come to a stop in front of her. How is this possible? Nylicia is some sort of goddess, I think. Definitely an immortal being.

  The woman before me is human, I sense that.

  No, wait.

  There’s something else there, energy thrumming beneath the surface of her aura. I try to focus on it, but whatever it is I’m sensing feels like a fish bobbing in and out of the surface of water, playing peek-a-boo with my instincts.

  Spari straightens and comes towards us. “You’re Evesse and Dimithinia?”

  We nod. I continue the whole up-and-down with my eyes, trying to scan Spari’s form and make sense of what I feel.

  Spari either doesn’t notice that I’m practically checking her out, or she pretends not to.

  “Cool. I’m Spari. Amazing sister to the Universe’s most annoying being and . . . well, generally, I’m amazing all around. Except for the whole part about being cursed and whatnot. You’re the new Goddess of Justice, right?”

  I raise an eyebrow. Yeah, there’s no doubt. That’s Nylicia’s sister. “Let’s not talk about what I haven’t come to terms with, yet. I just found out a minute ago.”

  Spari smiles. “No prob. I’ve felt the same way. Many times.” She stops smiling and her brow tenses. A far-off look falls over her face and she tilts her head, as if listening to something. With an annoyed huff, she snaps out of it.

  “Did I mention I’m the sister of the most annoying being in the Universe?” She pulls the collar of her black peacoat higher.

  “Yes, it was mentioned. What I’m wondering is, how is she your sister?” I ask.

  Spari turns and opens the door to the mall. “Oh, that’s simple. I’ve been cursed to reincarnate over and over in human form. The Fates thought it was a punishment, but the joke’s on them. I’m having a blast. Especially in this century.”

  CHAPTER 26

  EVESSE

  D imithinia’s wide eyes meet mine.

  Cursed?

  I want to pry, but Spari is already rushing ahead, racing onto a short escalator that leads into Macy’s. I catch up and step on behind her.

  Dimithinia, however, doesn’t.

  She stops in front of the escalator, looking at it in shock. Her nostrils flare slightly, her eyes following the movement of the stairs. “Stairs that move. I learned of this.”

  Spari and I arrive at the top and turn to stare down at the still-frozen female.

  “Dimi, get on,” I urge in a low voice.

  Does she move? No.

  I’m tempted to shout down that she has powers now—how the hell can an escalator scare her more than that?—but there are too many humans around to say anything of the sort.

  Two women pass Dimithinia, giving her an odd look.

  “Dimithinia, just step on it. Step.”

  Spari’s standing behind me, trying to muffle a giggle.

  I press my lips together, trying to hold in my laugh as well.

  Dimithinia rolls her eyes at us and slowly steps on. She’s still glowering when she reaches the top.

  “Humans have become the laziest bastards, I swear. Four steps, and they had to make them moving ones?”

  My laugh bursts out of me. Spari chuckles too, then walks in front of us and takes the lead.

  I tap her on the shoulder. “Can we please know why we are here?”

  “You need to know where your male is. You lucky bitch, by the way. I always thought Zen was one of the hottest.”

  I momentarily bite the inside of my cheek. Better than anyone, I know how hot my male is. Hearing Spari, or any other female, comment on it is the last thing I want to do. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Your male has been tracking down Enteax, and there’s someone here who might know where Lisrn was last spotted. Those two are generally inseparable. But, first”—Spari stops in front of the Ed Hardy cologne display—“we have to buy something. Fucker doesn’t like to tell me anything unless I spend some money in his store.”

  I’m about to ask which “he” Spari is talking about, but then decide against it. What for? I’m going to find out in a few anyway. I might as well sit back and let the ridiculous-train chug on.

  “Let me get the Villain for Men,” Spari tells the sales lady behind the counter. “It’ll totally suit him.”

  The lady smiles at Spari and moves to get her the cologne. “Gift for your boyfriend?”

  “Pfft. He wishes.” Spari gives her credit card to the sales lady and pays for the cologne. S
he turns down the shopping bag the lady offers to her. “No need. Can you please call the sales supervisor, Mr. Eberhart? Tell him his Spari is here to see him and I bear a peace offering.”

  The sales lady blinks in confusion.

  “No need. Mr. Eberhart is aware she is here.”

  I jump and turn to find the source of that deep voice.

  And, of course, hello, tall-big-and-sexy. Oh, yeah. There seems to be some German ancestry going on there. Light blond hair. Baby blue eyes. I sense barely contained energy thrumming underneath his skin, waiting to be unleashed. Unlike Spari though, he’s barely concealing his powers.

  “Vy’shi,” Dimithinia whispers.

  Vi—what?

  Spari rushes forward with a little squeal. “Dago!”

  Dago raises a hand and steps back before Spari can jump him. His actions put space between them, but his light blue eyes are alive with energy as he looks at her. “I would be much happier to see you, little one, if you weren’t so blatantly wearing what you stole from me.”

  Spari stops and stares up at her head with wide eyes. A quick swipe has the goggles off and behind her back, her expression going sugar sweet. “But I bought you a gift.” She holds out the cologne to him.

  Dago’s lips twitch. “I already have it.” When Spari gives him a crestfallen, nearly teary-eyed look, he hurries to take the cologne and hold it to his chest. “Of course, since it’s you who got it, this will be the one I treasure most.”

  Spari claps her hands together, her smile growing larger, the goggles hanging off her wrist.

  “Come, you have a loud mouth and I know you want to talk about things best left unheard.” Dago motions for us to follow, leading us deeper into the department store.

  Spari sticks her tongue out at his back.

  “What is he?” I ask Dimithinia.

  “He’s a Vy’shi. Reality benders, I think would be an appropriate term. They say humanity was introduced to magic by their kind.”

  Spari grins and it’s the definition of shit-eating. “In other words, he’s a witch. But my Dago-baby gets annoyed if I call him that, so the ‘appropriate term’ is warlock.”

  “A warlock named Dago,” I comment as we come to a stop in front of a door.

  Spari laughs, oblivious to the glare Dago throws over his shoulder at her. “His name is actually Dagobert, and it means shining sun. Isn’t that the cutest? Come here, Dagobert. Come here, baby.” She continues cooing, walking up to him and jumping up to pinch his cheek.

  Dago swats her away. Even though he tries to look annoyed, it’s obvious he loves having Spari near. There’s a glint of happiness in his eyes, a shit load of endearment, and enough heat to make the temperature feel ten degrees hotter.

  “One more from you, brat, and I’m not telling you shit.”

  Spari steps back with a small, affronted gasp.

  Dago’s gaze lands on me, moves away, and immediately jumps back. “You’ve been in contact with Flux.” His tone kind of scares me. “I can sense it on you. Flux.”

  Reverence begins to shine in his eyes. He grabs my arm. His wide eyes lock on it and then he lifts his head to look up at me.

  The intensity level in his eyes confuses the hell out of me. “When did I touch Ismini recently? I don’t remember.”

  “She was in your room while you were unconscious. She was worried. Your hair might have turned yellow when she touched you.”

  I stare at Dimithinia in horror at the visual of myself as a blonde.

  “Flux has been given form once more?” Dago asks in that same awestruck tone.

  Dimithinia nods. “The powers of Flux gave birth to his kind,” she says to me. “From the first humans on Earth, a select few were chosen to harness the power to alter reality around them. They changed, they . . . ” She pauses, obviously frustrated when she can’t remember the word.

  “Mutated,” I supply for her, staring into Dago’s eyes. This close I can see whispers of his crimes, can see how many sins he’s committed in his life.

  And yet, I don’t want to punish him. The urge, the instinct to do so, just isn’t there.

  Suddenly, I realize why.

  For millennia, he’s been trapped in an unrequited love.

  My eyes flicker momentarily towards Spari.

  She’s his greatest punishment. The greatest pain Fate could have ever dealt him.

  A pain he brought upon himself.

  “Yes,” Dimi continues. “And they became a new species, the Vy’shi.”

  “You know the new Goddess of Flux?” Dago asks, not breaking our stare.

  I nod again. “She’s my best friend.”

  The smile that Dago gives me lights up his whole face. He straightens, beaming at me and then at Spari.

  “You do know what this means for all of us, yes?” He rushes to open the door, still smiling, although Spari’s glaring at him.

  “Don’t tell me I could’ve saved myself the money on the cologne had I merely told you this upfront.”

  Dago gives Spari an offended look. “See? That’s why your gifts mean nothing to me. You only give them because you want something in return.” His tone is playful, but there’s a layer of honesty to his words. And a whole lotta hurt. “Now come inside. There are those that might honestly kill me over what I’m about to tell you.”

  We all follow him inside. It’s a tiny office. The kind you wouldn’t expect to find an immortal chilling in. Dago locks the door behind us and touches two fingers to the wall.

  Everything goes from barely comfortable to ultra-swag instantly. The floor is replaced with black marble, the walls become red velvet, and the desk turns into the medieval version of a throne.

  “Dago, stop trying to seduce me. We have company.”

  Laughing, Dago gives Spari the finger. “Shut it.” He moves to sit on his chair, and motions for us to take the three other seats in front of him. “Now. Here’s what my spies have been able to tell me. The Aviraji are definitely moving. We’re talking infiltrations spanning from this galaxy, to Eren, to the Underworlds and C’ian.”

  “C’ian?” I ask.

  “The elf dimension, if you will.”

  Oh, of course. Why the fuck am I not surprised that elves exist too?

  “Anyway, we have Aviraji minions busy trying to stir up trouble and gather info, along with my personal favorite, trying to convince other beings to join their cause. By force if necessary.”

  Spari leans forward, all playfulness gone. In its place is pure, hard determination. “Lisrn. Did your spies get info on him?”

  “That’s the most fucked-up part.” Dago runs his thumb across his bottom lip, lost in thought. “He’s involved in something that involves the humans.”

  “What?”

  “Amgen, Spari. He’s been seen exiting their facility late at night. If what my spies gathered is true, he has a connection there.”

  “Pharmaceuticals?” Spari asks, looking confused.

  “Genetic research, Spari. They’re fucking with something big. The Vy’shi refused to help them. We won’t mutate molecules for them after what they forced us to create the last time around.”

  At my questioning look, Spari says, “The ceFtuts and all their other little pets.” She turns back to Dago. “So they’re looking for alternatives.”

  “I’m guessing that when you say ‘Amgen’, you mean the big company in California. Am I right?” I’m pretty sure I’m right, but considering the fucked-up scenarios threatening to go off in my head, I figure it’s best to confirm.

  “The one and only,” Dago says with a nod.

  I sit back in my seat, staring blankly at the wall. “Shit.”

  “I am confused, but I am going to assume this is a bad thing,” Dimithinia says.

  “You don’t think this has anything to do with Maeltzkon, do you?” Spari asks.

  Dago’s pupils dilate. “We don’t even want to think it lest it comes true.”

  Once again, I’m in the dark. “Who?”


  Spari answers for him. “An ancient order of humans that popped up around 5,000 B.C. They despised any beings above them. Saw them all as a threat. And with humanity’s ingenuity, even in those ancient times, they became a huge problem. Weren’t eradicated until around 1400 A.D.”

  Dimithinia shifts in her seat, seeming nervous at the mere mention of them. “I heard of them in the afterlife. As far as we know, however, they never worked with the Aviraji.”

  “As far as we know,” Spari mumbles.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This shit gets crazier and crazier each second. “We need to nab Lisrn on his next visit to the facility.”

  Dago shakes his head. “We can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because whatever they were working on, it’s finished. He was going there regularly for three months. Then, two weeks ago, he stopped.”

  I stare at him, trying to figure out how to word my next statement without insulting him or his species. “And no one thought, at any time before that, of grabbing the fucker?”

  He glares at me, looking insulted anyway. “We’re reality benders, not gods. We don’t have the type of power to take down one such as him. We might have that power now that Flux is back, but we’ve been weakened as a species for millennia now.”

  My mind flashes back to that gross-looking asshole. “So Lisrn is a god?”

  Spari leans forward so she can look at me. “Enteax, too.”

  “Gods of what?” I ask, almost afraid to hear the answer.

  “Lisrn is the God of Fear. His powers, like Enteax’s, are muted due to their forced servitude. Point is: Even with their powers muted, my spies didn’t have the strength to take any of them on,” Dago says.

  I hold a hand up, stopping him. “Wait. You’re saying they’re part of the Aviraji by force?”

  Dago nods. “Might have not started that way, but it sure as hell is that way now. Vermylea, Goddess of Bondage, now owns them. Has for millennia, ever since they agreed to join the Aviraji.”

  “And Enteax? He’s the God of what?”

  “Strength. He’s the God of Strength.”

  Fear and Strength. Jesus.

  Dimithinia nods. “I remember them. From before. They did not look so . . . wrong back then. They were different. They used to spend time at my kingdom.”