Night Slayer 2: Monster Quest
Page 14
Later, the pilot in the circling chopper reported that no ambulance ever emerged from the other side of the tunnel. The pursuing cops, braced for a violent shootout in the dark, would find no trace of me or the ambulance which I had stolen. According to the police report drafted by the lead investigator on the case, it was almost as if we had vanished into thin air.
Isn’t magic grand?
15
The ambulance blasted into the tunnel, which had become a portal into Octurna’s Sanctuary.
I hazarded a glance into my rearview mirror. The pursuing cop cars and motorcycles had transformed into frozen images on the giant stained-glass window.
Immediately, I stomped the brakes, terrified the fast-moving ambulance would mow over the sorceress’ monster skull collection and collide with the wall of occult books up ahead. Had I escaped the living asylum only to perish in a smoking wreck?
I shouldn’t have worried.
One swift hand gesture from Octurna stopped the ambulance dead in its tracks. Miraculously, the abrupt change in speed didn’t send me through the windshield. Gotta love magic.
Directly ahead, the giant dragon skull stared emptily at me through the windshield. That sight was almost as trippy as having Nicole Zamora look at me from the rear-view mirror.
I got out the vehicle. The ambulance’s flashing lights bathed the observation chamber red and blue. I turned my gaze to Octurna, who flashed me a disarming smile that almost made me forget I was supposed to be pissed at her.
“Well done, Slayer.”
I swallowed some of the harsher words I had planned to hurl at the sorceress upon my return. It's hard to stay angry at someone when they compliment you. Besides, Octurna was the only one who could return my astral form to its proper place. Better to not tick her off until I was back in my body.
Brilliant sunlight suddenly spilled into the observation chamber. I whirled and saw the church windows expand into a large portal looking out at an endless ocean.
“I don’t think we need to add an ambulance to our fleet.” Octurna winked at me, and with a quick flick of the wrist, she projected the ambulance through the yawing portal. I watched open-mouthed as the raging ocean swallowed the vehicle.
“That can’t be good for the environment,” I cracked.
Octurna grinned at me. I’d never seen her this happy before. Of course, she was about to be reunited with one of her closest friends. Really, really close. I tried not to dwell on the exact nature of the relationship between Octurna and Diamonique, but hey—I’m only human.
A gigantic wave shot toward the church window, so close I could almost taste the salt air. The portal reverted into a bank of smaller windows before the hungry sea could devour us. For a surreal moment, I thought I felt a water drop hit my face.
My gaze fixed on my physical self, which lurked next to the sorceress' throne like a statue, a soulless husk waiting for its owner to return.
“What happens now?” I asked.
“We reunite everyone with their bodies.”
And with these words, Octurna urged me to follow her. She snapped her fingers and my zombie-like body fell in step with us, a puppet under the sorceress’ control. That was freaking disturbing. It was almost like watching myself nurse the worst hangover of all time.
This day just kept getting weirder.
We headed for the temple area, where Diamonique’s soulless, nude form lay splayed out on the altar. Her eyes were open and stared sightlessly at the vaulted ceiling. The chamber’s guttering torches made her features look waxy.
I positioned myself at the foot of the altar while Octurna took her place at the head. We now faced each other directly. My soulless body stepped to the right side of the stone slab, the three of us forming a triangle around Diamonique.
“You must be keen to return to your body, Jason,” Octurna said.
“Talk about an understatement,” I grumbled in Nicole’s voice.
I felt a stirring deep inside me and sensed Diamonique’s spirit straining against the wards that covered the host body we shared.
It looks like I’m not the only one desperate to return to my body, I thought.
“The wards are locks keeping you and Diamonique imprisoned inside the psychic’s body. I’ll break those locks now and lead your spirits home. Are you both ready?”
I nodded. Hell, I’d never been ready for anything more in my life.
“This might hurt a tad. The wards will fight my magic.”
“Just get it over with.”
The sorceress nodded and began the soul transference ritual. Her eyes turned into white crescents, lips forming words in a tongue that sounded like no language spoken on Earth.
At first nothing happened, and I grew impatient. Then a stabbing sensation hit my host body, and I gnashed my teeth. I looked down at my arm where the mounting pain was at its strongest. One of Nicole’s tattoos now shimmered with a ghostly green light. And then the glowing rune slid off Nicole’s arm.
I watched in amazement as it floated off like a soap bubble. It danced in the air for a beat. A second later, green flames engulfed the tattoo and erased it from reality.
I turned my attention back to Nicole’s arm and the newly formed patch of bare skin. One tattoo down, another dozen to go.
I gripped the edge of the altar and braced myself for the next assault on my borrowed nerve endings. Not a moment too soon, as an invisible dagger sank into my chest. I coughed in agony as tattoo number two peeled off the psychic’s skin and hung in the air like a burning hologram.
More followed. Sweat beaded my host body’s face, the pain becoming unbearable. As the tats continued to evaporate, I felt myself growing lighter and being almost magnetically being pulled toward my physical body. I stared at Nicole Zamora’s outstretched hand and noticed my ghostly hand superimposed over it. Any moment now, my astral form would separate from its fleshy prison.
Excitement gripped me, and I struggled not to get ahead of myself. If I’d learned one thing in my time with Octurna, it was that magic couldn’t be rushed.
Octurna flicked her wrist one final time, a woman possessed by magic, and the last rune flew off Nicole's body and dissolved in a fireball. I stared at Nicole’s ink-free arms and torso for a moment, and then my astral form separated from the host. Finally free, my ghost form hurtled towards my body, soul melting into flesh. I gasped as I looked down at myself with my own eyes. I was back where I belonged.
I almost let out a whoop of joy, but Octurna’s grave expression made me bite my tongue. The ritual wasn’t over yet.
Next up was Diamonique. My gaze fixed on Nicole Zamora, and I frowned when confronted with her horrified expression. Was this separation of souls traumatizing her somehow? I would have thought it would thrill her to regain control over her body after all this time, to be free of the spirit with whom she had shared her physical self with for a whole century.
Instead, Nicole’s eyes widened, and her lips curled in a silent scream.
Something was terribly wrong.
Saliva bubbled from her lips. Nicole jerked and contorted as if she was experiencing an epileptic fit and then collapsed.
I rushed toward her and caught the medium's string-cut body before her head hit the flagstone floor. I gently lowered the unconscious woman to the ground. I wondered if Diamonique’s spirit was still inside her. Had we failed? Had Diamonique’s possession destroyed both of their souls?
An icy presence brushed up against me. Goosebumps erupted on my arms. Looming in front of me was Diamonique’s ghost. She was naked, an angel built for sin. She hovered in the air, an uncertain expression etched on her lovely features.
I shot Octurna a quick look. “What’s wrong? Why hasn’t she returned to her body?”
Dread filled Octurna’s features. “I…I don’t know. She should have been able to return.”
A cool, clear female voice filled my head. “Thank you, Jason. Thank you for saving me after all this time.”
Diamo
nique was telepathically reaching out to me. She inched closer, her pert breasts almost brushing against me.
“Why don’t you return to your body?” I asked.
Diamonique’s eyes narrowed with uncertainty. “I don’t know how.”
She stood there, naked, vulnerable, and ravishing. Oh, hell.
Diamonique took another step toward me, and I felt Octurna’s intense gaze boring into me. Did I detect a flicker of jealousy? Or was it excitement?
“Remind me what it feels like to be alive, Jason,” Diamonique said.
And now the Guardian’s hand gently brushed against my chest, sending an electric jolt up my spine. My head tingled, and a wave of pure wellbeing ran up my arms. Our lips touched, and I reached out for Diamonique’s beautiful ghost body, unable to resist her. My solid hands passed through her spectral form, and another shiver of delight raced up and down my shoulders.
I threw a questioning look at Octurna, unsure how to proceed. But she nodded her head,.
“She knows you saved her,” Octurna said. “She clearly feels comfortable with you—and there is attraction here. Your spirits touched while you occupied the same host. Lead her back to her body. Be her guide.”
I wasn’t about to object. I felt great, gripped by a powerful sense of inner peace. Is this what it felt like to make out with a ghost?
I took Diamonique’s hand in mine. The same way her astral energy stimulated my nerve endings, my warm flesh was likely filling her spirit with pleasurable sensations. I led her to the altar, removed my black shirt. My muscled, tattooed torso gleaming in the light of the flickering torches. I slipped off my motorcycle boots, removed my pants and briefs. Octurna watched us intently, her gaze unreadable.
I lay down on the altar next to Diamonique’s naked, soulless body. The rough-hewn stone bit into my bare skin. I flashed back to my first night in the fortress, when Octurna had made love to me on this rune-carved slab of rock. This time the sorceress was playing the role of voyeur. I briefly had the crazy thought of inviting her to join us, but I kept my mouth shut.
Inches separated me from Diamonique’s sleeping form. I was about to have a ménage à trois with her soul and physical body. Things were complicated enough without worrying about Octurna.
I felt the warmth of Diamonique’s body next to me. Blood flowed through the unconscious form, and her heart beat strong. All she needed was her spirit.
Almost as if Diamonique could read my thoughts, she climbed on top of my body. My skin prickled, and the hairs stood up on end. The pleasant sensation all over my body increased.
I inhaled sharply as the ghost mounted my raging hard-on. Spirit energy ran down my skin like a warm, deeply soothing breeze as Diamonique's ghost rode me, her eyes closed in growing pleasure, her orgasm building as she bobbed up and down my shaft.
Fuck. At this rate, I wouldn’t be able to hold out too much longer.
And as our lovemaking intensified, my eyes found Octurna again. She watched in bated anticipation as Diamonique threw back her head and came. I exploded a second later.
As the stunning ghost woman slumped forward, I rolled on top of her physical self, nuzzling her spirit into her flesh-and-blood body. I was acting on instinct, sensing this would work.
And it did.
Her soul sank into her body. Her eyes snapped open, her lips forming a sexy O as her climax shifted from her spiritual form to her physical self. Her flesh-and-blood body trembled to life underneath me, and I got hard again.
Yeah, magic is pretty great.
Diamonique looked deep into my eyes, her soul reunited with her body for the first time in a hundred years.
“Thank you, Jason.”
I tilted my gaze up at Octurna and saw tears of joy in the sorceress’ eyes.
“Welcome back to the world of the living,” I said.
16
Octurna’s eyes gleamed with an infectious joy as she embraced Diamonique. The resurrected Guardian’s beaming smile mirrored the sorceress’ happiness. She was clearly elated to be back among the living.
Then she pulled back from Octurna and locked her gaze with me. Her eyes shone with heartfelt gratitude.
“Thank you again, Jason. I will never forget this.”
That made two of us.
The last 24 hours had tested me like no mission had before, both on a physical and emotional level. Every muscle in my bruised and battered body was on fire, and I stifled a yawn. I couldn’t wait to return to my quarters and pass out. I planned to spend the rest of the week asleep or soaking in the grotto hot tub.
Octurna stepped up to me, and to my surprise, she planted a kiss on my cheek. “I will be forever grateful to you.”
The sorceress was on cloud nine, and it was nice to see her happy like this. I sensed no hard feelings for having made love to her friend, only gratitude for helping Diamonique complete her journey back to her body.
They were both giddy with the excitement that accompanies the reunion between old friends. I knew this mood wouldn’t last. Diamonique was returning to a different world. No longer was the Cabal a force of good that maintained balance between the forces of light and dark. They had become a secret society steering mankind toward a supernatural apocalypse. She was about to join our war against some of the most powerful mages and monsters on the planet. Dark days lay ahead. Maybe she wouldn’t feel quite so grateful when she realized how bad things had gotten.
Octurna, still smiling, turned to me. “Would you mind keeping an eye on Nicole while I show Diamonique around the Sanctuary?”
I eyed the psychic’s dormant form splayed out on the altar. The poor girl still hadn’t regained consciousness. I prayed she was all right and wouldn’t suffer any permanent mental damage from having hosted two other souls.
Diamonique stepped up to the altar. She eyed Nicole with a mixture of sisterly concern and thinly veiled dread. It made sense—the medium had been both her prison and cellmate for nearly a century. She lovingly brushed the hair out Nicole’s eyes and whispered something in her ear.
“Someone should be with her when she wakes up,” Diamonique said.
I nodded. Sleep would wait a little while longer. “No problem. You guys go ahead. You have a lot of catching up to do.”
Octurna took Diamonique’s hand in hers and led her out of the temple. The two Guardians made a stunning pair. I had a feeling that “catching up” might include a trip to the sorceress’ bedchamber. Thinking of Octurna and Diamonique together like that made me feel a little weird. Was I jealous? Ridiculous. If anyone had grounds for being jealous, it was Octurna after what had just happened.
Maybe I was just worried about how Diamonique's addition to our war effort would change things. Octurna and I had become a team, a duo that was now becoming a trio. How would she fit into our campaign? What role would she play in the battles ahead? With a powerful sorceress like Diamonique in Octurna’s corner, where did a fledgling combat wizard like me fit? Had I delivered Octurna my future replacement?
I shook off those silly thoughts. Sure, my magic couldn’t hold a candle to Diamonique’s amazing capabilities, but I wasn’t a dead weight either. And my powers were growing with each passing day. Even with Diamonique on board, we were still severely outmatched by the Shadow Cabal. We needed all the help we could get to prevail against them. It was stupid of me to feel threatened by Diamonique. The real threat was the Cabal.
A low moan pulled me out of my musings. I fixed my attention on Nicole. She looked like she was having a nightmare. When she woke up, I wondered if she would see me as her savior or a monster who had taken possession of her.
I stepped up to her and took her hand in mine. Despite what we’d been through together, I knew almost nothing about her. Our minds had touched only for the briefest moments while my soul entered her body. Diamonique had been the far more dominant presence during my little body-hopping adventure.
I tried to make my gruff voice sound as reassuring as possible. “Nicole, it’s all right
, you’re safe.”
The medium’s eyes snapped open, and she let out a pitiful wail. The anguished sound rattled me. I wished the two Guardians were here with me to calm this poor woman. I was never any good at this kind of thing.
“It’s okay,” I said. “Everything is okay.”
I hoped that wasn’t a lie.
The medium had shared her every waking moment with Diamonique for over a hundred years. Being separated after so much time together would take a psychological toll.
“You will be all right, Nicole, I promise—”
“No, you don’t understand,” the psychic hissed, her voice shaking with terror as she grasped my wrist with surprising strength. “You’re in grave danger. All of you.”
A chill spiked up my neck. Was she confused after her ordeal, or was there some truth to her ominous words?
“Diamonique is not who she claims to be,” Nicole said.
Before she could elaborate further, her body convulsed, and her features contorted with agony. I brought down my arms, hoping to steady the poor girl as she writhed on the altar. It seemed like Nicole was in the grip of some terrible new possession. She let out a guttural cry, and her arm lashed out me, sending me flying. I landed on the flagstone floor.
Nicole bolted erect, jumped off the altar, and took a few jerky steps in my direction. The agony on her face gave way to horror.
Nicole opened her mouth and whispered, “She’ll betray you all.”
And with these portentous words, her hair became white and brittle. Milky cataracts coated her eyes. The skin on her face turned brown and leathery, stretching across the bones until it split. And as her skeletal hands reached for my throat, her whole body collapsed into a pile of dust.
I sucked in a sharp breath, adrenaline flooding my system. The grisly transformation had shaken me to the core. It was as if the last hundred years had caught up with the medium in less than a minute.
I jumped back to my feet and ran as fast as I could, hoping to catch up with Octurna and Diamonique. If the resurrected Guardian had been compromised somehow, Octurna really was in terrible danger. I couldn’t sit by idly while an intruder harmed the sorceress or destroyed the Sanctuary.