Ryze Series: Books 1 & 2

by N. Isabelle Blanco

  “Your kingdom . . .” Dago trails off, eyes widening. He looks at Dimithinia, his pupils dilating and shrinking. “Wait . . . you . . . ah, holy shit. Your majesty, I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you!”

  Dimithinia shoots out of her seat, trying to stop Dago before he can fall off his chair and onto his knees—he ends up on them anyway. “Please. Do not . . . I am queen no longer.”

  Damn. Ritrio was apparently a really big fucking deal back in its day.

  “Dago!” Spari cries, slamming a foot on the floor. “You fall to your knees that easily for another female?”

  Dago is still staring up at Dimithinia in awe. “Holy crap. It’s true. Nylicia really is bringing a bunch of you back from the dead.”

  Dimithinia blinks those big-blues. “A bunch of us?”

  I won’t even ask. Enough knowledge has been funneled into my cranium; I do not need to dive deeper into Nylicia’s machinations. “What do we do now, then?”

  Dago lifts himself back up onto his chair. He still looks shaken and his eyes keep bouncing back to Dimi. “We’re working on getting inside the facility. My spies will be hacking into its systems tonight. We need to know what the hell they were working on.”

  “You’re going to keep us informed, you understand?” Spari demands.

  He raises an eyebrow at her. “As if that sister of yours would give me any other choice.”

  Wait a moment. “So that’s it. Nylicia sent us here to gather this fucked up information, and that’s it? We’re supposed to just leave now? What about Zen?”

  “I guess we report this info to my sister?”

  “You could’ve reported it all on your own. This still doesn’t make sense. I was supposed to find Zeniel with this info.”

  Spari tilts her head, looking pensive. As if the thought hadn’t occurred to her until now either. “True . . . I guess. But she made it very clear that you two were supposed to be here—” Her head shoots up and her wide eyes clash with mine.

  “Oh fuck,” we both hiss, obviously coming to the same exact conclusion.

  After all, Nylicia is involved.

  Dimithinia sighs. “Something bad is about to happen, is it not?”

  Even Dimi is figuring out how the demonic pixie works.

  “Knowing how my sister operates . . . probably.” Spari lets loose a long-suffering sigh. The kind that lets me know I’m right in my conclusion about Nylicia. She’s done things like this before. Probably many, many times.

  Dago sits up straight, tensing. “Do you think something is about to happen here? In my fucking mall?”

  I momentarily forget my panic. “Your mall?”

  “Yes.”

  Spari’s eyes flicker in Dago’s direction. “Motherfucker has the largest share in the company.”

  Of course. Because that makes perfect sense.

  “Forget that. What the hell do you think is going to happen?” He’s already on his feet, tips of his fingers glowing with light blue energy.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “But considering Nylicia sent us here, I’m guessing that it revolves around us. We should leave.”

  Before we head out the door, Dago touches his fingers to the wall again, changing the office back to its former state.

  He grabs Spari by the arm. “I’m going to be waiting. If anything happens, you call me right away. You hear me?” The intense way he gazes down at Spari leaves no doubt in my mind.

  The male is in love with her.

  Spari jacks her head all the way back. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m calling the reinforcements, just in case. You call me. Hear me?”

  “Yes.”

  Us three females rush outside. Most of the people in the department store turn to stare at us as we all but run back out into the mall.

  “Maybe we’re just overreacting.” I know I sound desperate, but hey, a girl can hope. “Maybe she really did just send us here to get the info.”

  We step out onto the concourse. Spari looks around, seeming just as nervous as I am. “I hope so. And I hope that bitch didn’t forget I’m still human. I can’t die now . . . not yet anyway.”

  I make the mistake of locking eyes with a teenager standing by the elevators. Looking at him is like getting punched between the eyebrows. That rage I felt back on the roof of the hospital blows up inside me, as red mist comes to life around him.

  Ten victims, some much younger than him. Two had been much, much older.

  He can’t be more than seventeen.

  I stagger back. Dimithinia and Spari call my name. I can barely hear them. My own voice screams inside my mind, sounding mutated.

  Just as split in two as Zeniel’s does when Mavrak takes over.

  Guilty! Must . . . punish. Deserves to die. Guilty.

  The guy is frozen in place and staring at me, terrified.

  I have no doubt I’m staring back at him like a raving lunatic, ready to attack.

  An ear-shredding shriek echoes inside the mall. Before it can fade, the startled screams of the humans rent the air, and the floor shakes with the booming, lumbering footsteps of what can only be one thing.

  “Fuck,” Dimithinia spits. “ceFtuts.”

  Those assholes unleashed monsters in the fucking mall.

  CHAPTER 27

  ZENIEL

  I allowed Mavrak to annihilate two humans—one female, one male—and it still isn’t enough.

  For the first time ever, I must admit that I understand why.

  The two humans I killed oversaw a small prostitution ring. The females they “recruit” are treated as virtual slaves. Never allowed to leave.

  The seventeen-year-old homeless girl they forced to work for them months ago didn’t deserve to die the way she did. One of their regulars went overboard and snapped her neck during sex. Her two pimps, the male and the female, simply disposed of her body.

  And by disposed, I mean they put her body through a grinder.

  The Universe is so sick. It’s a putrid infestation that runs deep down into the very fabric of all existence. It’s been a long time coming, but I’ve finally come to terms with one irrefutable fact.

  I no longer blame Mavrak for the rage he feels when faced with such crimes.

  Sadly, I turned a blind eye to most of it. It was my way of accepting it. Good cannot exist without evil. But as I stumble back into the abandoned house I’ve taken as my own, the reality of how out-of-balance the Universe is hits me full force.

  For sixteen-thousand-years, the primal energy of Karma has been trapped inside a human form, only appearing in full force between reincarnations.

  Because of that, Karma isn’t being properly dealt out. Beings continue to commit disgusting crimes and most of them are going unpunished.

  And it hurts. Gods, it hurts so much. Perhaps because my mother was the Goddess of Integrity and it’s hardwired into my coding not to accept injustice.

  Not that I have any memories of her. She was a part of Mavrak’s life, not mine.

  I’m starting to suspect that I can access the memories of what she was like as a mother. To do so, however, means that I must open myself up to Mavrak. Become one.

  The memories of five-hundred-years of torture aren’t something I want banging around inside my skull.

  Worse, even if I accept Mavrak and his need to punish every injustice no matter how small, how will I control myself around my friends? Damn it. I’ll kill all of them.

  Starting with Vedlyl.

  Cyake and Ianthen will be next.

  And Zexistr. Fuck. Forget all the crimes he committed the first two-thousand-nine-hundred years of his life on this plane. He was already punished for those. But what he did twenty years after regaining control back from Zerxis? Yeah. It’ll be the end of us all. The fabric of reality would rapidly unravel if Zex were to die. The physical Universe can’t exist without Zex on this plane.

  It did once, but that was before he was reborn into the physical realm. Now, things can never go back to the way
they were. The day Zex’s body dies and he bounces back into the cosmos, is the day we all go with him.

  All of us. Every single living being in existence.

  Why the hell do the powers of Vengeance not understand that?

  ‘Cause they’re out of control, that’s why. They will always be. Primal energy is tricky like that. Which means the fate of the entire Universe rests with me not losing control.

  Yet Nylicia insists that I merge with Mavrak.

  It’s only a matter of time. I’m aware of the Universe again, seeing the ugliness that abounds. I have no clue how I’m going to exist without constantly avenging someone or something.

  My emotions are realigning, merging with my demon half. The two kills I made earlier weren’t anywhere near enough. They weren’t enough for Mavrak.

  But I’m still hungry, too.

  Feeling as though my God of Tranquility days are long over, I drag myself through the living room.

  Evesse isn’t here. I can sense that she left the house even though her scent coats everything. It adds to the world of hurt I’m stuck in. If I were a normal male, I would’ve been with her when she awoke. The need for vengeance wouldn’t have forced me from our bed.

  Yet, I’m also grateful. No matter how understanding Eve is—and gods help me, she is—I don’t want her to see me this way.

  I fall down the stairs on my way to the basement. Somehow, I catch myself before hitting the Gnetica. For a second, I’m convinced that Eve’s scent is haunting me. Then, I realize that her scent is here in the staircase with me. The fear that bursts out of me is almost enough to override my vengeance-drive.

  No. Gods, no.

  If I hadn’t already been shaking, I sure as hell would start now. I raise my hand and place it on the Gnetica, praying. When I realize it’s still intact, my kneecaps go weak.

  I don’t want Evesse in there. Don’t want her to see her stepfather’s soul and what I’m doing to it.

  There are already enough reasons for her to hate what I am.

  I can’t ignore the small voice in the back of my head that points out that she isn’t the one that hates it.

  I am.

  With a mental command, I lower the shield. The sounds that were contained within the basement reach me. Pathetic whimpers. I squeeze my eyes shut. I’ve walked this path so many times in the last few days, that I have no problem making my way over to the wall while blind.

  Gleipnir, the Asgardian magical binding I took from Cyake, is tethered to the wall. I had to magically reinforce the wall to keep it from coming down while I struggle to free myself.

  Luckily, it’s proven to hold time and time again.

  “Don’t . . . you . . . no . . .”

  I hiss, jacking my head to the side to keep from opening my eyes too early. I can hear Mavrak prowling and scraping—itching to get at the piece of shit that’s in front of me.

  “No more. Please. Return me to hell. They’ll punish me there.”

  “Not as long as I live. You suffer more under my hand.” I hear my voice splitting. Blindly, I reach for the thin black ribbon tied to the wall and begin wrapping it around my right wrist, then my left. It’s enough, once the knot is tied tight, to keep me from breaking free and rushing out into the world.

  “Please!”

  “Did you stop when they begged? When all those girls cried for you to have mercy?” Growling, I plant my ass on the floor, back to the wall. “Did you stop when Evesse begged you to?”

  I finally open my eyes, meeting the dead-brown eyes of her stepfather’s ghost.

  Out of its Aristi, the soul has taken form once more and, as all souls are wont to do, it reverted back into its last form. Dark brown hair that matches his eyes. A face that’s frightening when angry, but is now crumpled in absolute terror.

  The soul is trapped by the red and black mist that I left in place around it. I had never been able to control Mavrak’s weapon before, had never even tried, but I’m taking fucking advantage of it now.

  The spirit of Eve’s stepfather begins crying as more mist comes out of my eyes.

  Pathetic.

  The ones that love to inflict agony on others can rarely handle having the same done to them.

  Wraiths burst into life, emerging from out of the mist and cackling as they advance. The soul flails around and cries harder, knowing that he’s about to be torn apart in ways that not even Lucifer’s demons can come up with. Again.

  Hell, if I have any say, it’ll never end.

  I stop cold when I realize what just crossed my mind. What it means.

  I’m thinking like Mavrak again.

  Not only that, I’m not even losing myself to the thoughts, either. No. We’re both here. My thoughts and Mavrak’s. We’re both watching. Waiting.

  We’re both going to enjoy the show.

  I have no clue how much time has passed. Only that it was daylight when I went into the basement, and now, as I stumble ass-over-face to the first floor, it’s night.

  Mavrak’s sated. Sort of. But letting him loose left me so weak that I can barely stand. As soon as I reach the top of the stairs, I fall into the wall.

  The house shakes. I lift myself upright, groaning and wondering why I’m even more drained after letting Mavrak take control.

  You didn’t let him take control. Admit it.

  Shit. There’s no denying that. Mavrak is back in the cage I built, but for a few seconds down there, I saw past the roars. Saw past the rage, and the screams of the soul we tortured.

  We’d become one, and I glimpsed the memories.

  My blood spilled, my flesh ripped off, the burn of my eyes being sealed shut.

  Or my personal favorite, my eyes being literally plucked out of my head.

  But I also saw my mother. She had smiled down at me, and lifted me into her arms, and I knew that smile on her face was special. It was just for me.

  She had blue-and-gray eyes. I know this from the holographic image of her I have in my room. Yet, seeing them soften in affection as she tickled me was indescribable.

  I have my father’s—Sophron’s—hair color and the markings of a war demon when in that form, but the shape of my eyes, and my facial features are all my mother’s. I’d known that, yet seeing her face . . . man, it hurt. Makes me miss her even more.

  Persicutis loved me. Witnessing it firsthand, remembering her laugh and the way she called me her “little demon” so playfully, stabs me deep. I want to see more, to remember more.

  If only remembering her didn’t mean remembering everything else.

  The extent of my crimes; the extent of my torture. If only it didn’t mean merging with Mavrak and losing control.

  Evesse. Where will my R’ma be then?

  I groan, my heart breaking so bad that I must bring a hand up and rub my chest. My phone vibrates in my pocket. Grateful for a distraction, any kind, I reach for it.

  It’s a text from Ianthen. A set of coordinates, along with one simple statement.

  I can guarantee you that’s where Enteax is. I finally locked on him.

  It’s a rundown, three-story house on Main Street. The back of the house is pretty much kissing the small strip of woods behind it. Branches crowd the sides.

  I stand across the street, hidden between two similarly rundown houses, fists clenched.

  The streets around are empty. This side of Brownsville is practically a ghost town. When it comes to convenience, this is perfect. As soon as I find Enteax, I’ll seize that fucker and drag him back to Enzyria. After tearing off an arm or two.

  I have no clue why the ass is still on Earth. Knowing the Aviraji, there’s a reason. What the hell it could be—why they would send Enteax to this tiny corner of Pennsylvania—I don’t know.

  It doesn’t matter, either. I’m seconds away from having the bastard in my hands. Once I sink my fingers into Enteax’s flesh, I’m not bringing them back out until they’re curled around chunks of skin and muscle. Enteax is going to bleed a fucking ocean before I
’m done with him.

  Having such violent thoughts should bother me. But it doesn’t. It’s simple. No one puts their hands on Evesse. No one hurts her.

  And no one fucking kills her and gets away with it, either.

  The thought crosses my mind to contact Dyletri. The male has as much of a right to Enteax as I do. But I don’t want to share. Besides, there’s always Lisrn.

  I sense Enteax before I see him. The blue, freaky-looking motherfucker comes around the back of the house, willing the plants out of his way.

  I’m ready to pounce. My muscles swell, and I know that the amount of adrenaline and testosterone funneling into my limbs is twenty times what a human can handle. My heartbeat accelerates, primed for battle.

  Despite my earlier weakness, I’m fueled with pure rage and am more than ready to attack.

  Mavrak is the one who stops me.

  Wait!

  Shock follows closely behind, gluing my feet to the ground. I can’t see exactly what Enteax is doing; just that he’s focused on the house.

  And for the first time in his entire existence, Mavrak is pointing out a good deed instead of a bad one.

  My heart jack-hammers inside my rib cage, and my mind struggles to comprehend what my war demon half is showing me.

  He . . . protects.

  And? I scream at my other half, incredulous. It doesn’t change what he did.

  It does! Look!

  Enteax is willing one hell of a heavy duty Gnetica around that home. As he does so, his emotions are frenzied.

  He’s worried.

  Whatever is in that house, Enteax is downright desperate and determined to protect it.

  He cares more about that than he does his own safety.

  I grit my teeth, hating that inner-voice, so like my own. Above all, I’m completely fucked in the head at the thought that I’m the one aching to hurt someone . . . and fucking Mavrak is the one stopping me.

  The fuck?

  He is willing to die. He is willing to betray all of them to do the right thing.

  I’m still reeling, my mind spinning so fast I’m sure my brain is turning to mush, when Nylicia comes up behind me.