Smoke, Vampires, and Mirrors (Sasha Urban Series Book 7)

by Dima Zales

  A little inconsistent with what I said, and too melodramatic, but she did improvise on the spot.

  “Let’s turn off those cameras so we can have a private moment,” she says to the camera guys.

  They do as she commands, and as soon as the spotlight is over, all semblance of maternal care disappears from her face.

  “What’s this plan of yours?” she asks, her eyes narrowing as she takes in more and more of the arriving Cognizant. “I told you I wanted this world for myself after Tartarus is defeated.”

  “And I’m telling you that he can’t be defeated by just the two of us,” I retort. “Do you realize that when he comes, he brings along a whole freaking army?”

  “He does?” Lilith frowns. “Michel never mentioned his children were that numerous.”

  I clench my jaw. “Don’t get me started on that bastard Nostradamus. And let’s join the others, so I don’t have to repeat myself.”

  She nods, and we fly toward overwhelmed-looking Councilors from this world.

  I open my mouth to speak, but at that moment, Eric teleports in, holding Vlad and Kit by their shoulders.

  “Just in time,” Nero says as I gape at them. “Bring the rest of them.”

  “What are you guys doing here?” I exclaim.

  Before either Vlad or Kit can reply, Eric comes back with Ariel—as well as a robot that looks a lot like the one Felix used in the fight with Baba Yaga.

  “Hello,” the robot says. Then its face plate opens, and I see Felix’s grinning face inside.

  Wow.

  This must be Golem version two, the power suit edition. Felix said he’d work on it with Itzel, so this must be the result.

  “I can’t believe you’re here as well,” I say, rushing forward to hug them both. Only Felix is all metal, and Ariel is so stiff she might as well be a robot, too.

  My vampire state of being must still be freaking her out.

  Carefully, I retreat and give them a big smile. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but why did you come?”

  “They need a boost,” Nero says. “Everyone critical to the defense effort does.”

  Okay, then. Sounds like Rasputin did foresee my superhero plan; otherwise, Nero wouldn’t be so prepared.

  “I don’t know if I want my friends to be part of the defense effort,” I hiss at him.

  “We insisted,” Ariel says.

  “Strongly,” Felix adds.

  “And you don’t tell me what to do,” Kit says.

  “What she said,” Vlad says.

  “Fine.” I sigh. “I’d like to go on record as saying that this is a bad—”

  Eric comes back, this time with Lucretia and Chester.

  “If this isn’t a family reunion,” Chester says sarcastically when he spots Lilith. “Mother, you look lovely, as always.”

  Lilith replies with something snide, but I don’t hear it because I’m busy hugging Lucretia. Like with Felix and Ariel, I’m glad to see her, but I don’t like the idea of her being put in harm’s way.

  “Time still isn’t on our side,” Nero cuts in. “How about we let Sasha explain what’s about to happen?”

  I look everyone over. “Here is my plan. We get someone to make superhero costumes for everyone present. We also create backstories and, most importantly, plan demonstrations of powers for you all—which I can help make as spectacular as possible. Once you’re better at whatever your power is, use it to defeat Tartarus and his henchmen.”

  “And this needs to happen quickly,” Nero adds. “Tartarus shows up at 6:45 p.m.”

  Everyone looks at the clock behind him. It’s already 2:15 in the afternoon.

  “Why didn’t you lead with that?” I ask Nero.

  “I didn’t get the chance,” he says. “Anyway, we’re still on schedule to make it.”

  “And how do you know that?” Sparkles asks.

  On cue, Eric teleports in, holding Rasputin by the shoulder.

  “This is my seer father,” I explain when I recover from my surprise. “I bet he’s the reason Nero knows what the future holds.”

  “Indeed,” Rasputin says, and I can’t help noticing the longing look he darts at Lilith—which makes it official. He’s a masochist. “I stockpiled some power and used it to learn every place where Tartarus’s forces will gate into this world, and when. I also know where his base world is, and—”

  “What do you mean ‘base world?’” Sparkles asks.

  “Tartarus repopulated a whole world with countless descendants who share his energy-draining power,” Rasputin says patiently. “They call the world Tartarus, and to really win, we need to make sure that world becomes isolated from the rest of the Otherlands.”

  Wow.

  How are we supposed to do that?

  “If you’ve seen the future, did you foresee us winning?” Sparkles asks.

  That’s a great question.

  I wish I’d asked it first.

  “I don’t know,” Rasputin says, looking at his shoes. “I was about to see visions in that regard when Nostradamus attacked me in Headspace again and stripped me of the remainder of my power.”

  “Nostradamus is another seer,” I explain for the locals. “He’s the reason why I’m powerless right now as well.”

  To make sure I’m actually still out of juice, I try to go into Headspace.

  Nope. Still need to recharge.

  “Stupid Michel,” Lilith mutters under her breath. “For someone who claims to want Tartarus dead, he sure likes to mess with everyone’s ability to actually kill the bastard.”

  “At least we know where all those gates will open,” Vlad says, his face broody, as usual. “This gives us a fighting chance.”

  “And I’ll share those locations with you as soon as we’re done here,” Rasputin says and looks at Nero. “Do you want to fill them in on the rest of it?”

  “Right,” Nero says, looking at the locals. “The Cognizant from Earth and a few allies from elsewhere are already taking their battle positions here on this world.”

  “What?” Sparkles’s face tightens, his fingers sparking with hints of lightning. “You just marched in without consulting us?”

  “Yes, we did.” Nero doesn’t look the least bit intimidated. “There was no time to wait for your approvals. We did more than just waltz in. Our Enforcers glamoured key leaders in your human governments and military organizations to make them help us—whether Sasha’s plan works or not. But we still need everyone present to boost their power.”

  “To that end,” I chime in. “Why don’t we focus on the superhero plan?”

  No one objects, so I quickly tell them my ideas so far: that Roslin can be a hero named Earth Shaker, Sparkles can be Sir Lightning, and Lizzy will be the Ether Runner.

  They like it, so I name a bunch of others before I’m interrupted by Ariel, who says, “I want to be Batwoman.”

  “And I’ll be her Joker,” Chester says and winks at Ariel.

  “Hey.” Felix makes his robot strike a heroic pose. “In that case, I call dibs on Ironman.”

  “All those characters already exist in the comics,” Obo says.

  Felix frowns. “Stupid cross-Otherland plagiarism. How about Steel?”

  “How about we keep the names as original as we can?” I say.

  “Fine,” Felix says. “In that case, I want to be Neo Golem. Not because of Neo from The Matrix, mind you, but because this Golem is the new one and neo means new.”

  “Whatever,” I say. “Before you ask, we aren’t going to invite an orc to the team and call him Hulk.”

  “Or Horc,” Felix says.

  “Is Batman seriously out of the question?” Ariel looks like a kid given a scratchy sweater on Christmas. “How about Sugar Glider? They’re the closest thing I can think of to bats, and it sounds kind of cool.”

  “It sounds like a good porn star name,” Felix mutters and slides back his mask just in time to avoid getting slapped.

  “I’ll be Jester,” Chester says and
grins like one. “Instead of a purple suit like that of the Joker, I can wear one of those pointy hats.”

  “And look like Harley Quinn from the cartoons,” Felix mutters under his breath.

  I sigh.

  When I pictured the end of the world, I never thought there would be this much joviality.

  “I’ll be Ninja Fox,” Kit says and turns herself into an actual fox wearing a black ninja outfit. The result is more adorable than a meme of a cat in a bunny onesie.

  “Kit is going to be the easiest superhero to sell to people,” Felix says. “She’s basically Mystique who can also turn into animals and monsters.”

  “I think Mystique could do that too,” Ariel says. “Though I think it was when she was boosted by A—”

  “Focus,” I say with an eyeroll. “Does anyone else want to choose their own name?”

  A bunch of them do, and I let them. Then we hash out the elements of their outfits and backstories. Apparently, Sugar Glider was originally an Amazon—something Felix and I reluctantly allow. We do make it clear, though, that Ariel’s outfit will look nothing like that of Wonder Woman and that she can’t have a lasso prop.

  “Every teleporter should go and get the top movie prop designers of this world to quickly make the prerequisite outfits,” I say. “Take a vampire with you in case you need anyone glamoured.”

  They follow my suggestion, and I have Eric take me to a local magic shop to get a long list of supplies to complement those I was already carrying in my pockets.

  By the time we get back, some of the “heroes” are already wearing their outfits, making the place look like a cross between Comic-Con and a Halloween party.

  “Now let’s talk about the power demonstrations,” I say and take out the props from the magic store.

  For every hero, I make up a suitable performance and add showiness by using every magic methodology I can think of. Some of the illusions I invent are so good, I almost wish another magician was here, just to appreciate the level of my deviousness.

  “What about me?” Lilith asks midway through my spiel. “What is my superhero name and backstory?”

  Oh, right.

  I have such a hard time thinking of her as a hero, I forgot to do this for her.

  “How about Lady Night?” I say, looking her over.

  “Maybe Lady of the Night?” She floats up and takes a strange pose.

  “No, that makes you sound like a courtesan,” I say. “How about Night Lady?”

  “Fine.” She lifts her chin. “What’s my story?”

  “You already kind of boxed us in,” I say. “How about: you were cursed to drink human blood by Tartarus himself, and you’re an anti-villain driven mostly by your love of your lovely daughter—and hatred for the one who turned you into this monstrosity.”

  “What’s an anti-villain?” she asks.

  “Kind of like an anti-hero, but the opposite,” Felix chimes in with the robotic voice that comes out of his suit when the faceplate is down. “It’s someone who has good goals but goes about achieving them through immoral means. Oh, and probably refuses to do typical villainous things like eating babies.”

  “So not Lilith,” Rasputin says under his breath. “She eats babies without any compulsion.”

  “I heard that,” she says. “It’s not my fault baby blood is so delicious.”

  Everyone—especially the local Cognizant—exchange uncomfortable glances that seem to wonder if she’s kidding.

  I strongly suspect she isn’t kidding, but I don’t tell them that because I want my superhero team to have good morale.

  Lizzy and a bunch of other teleporters come back with more outfits, and people start putting them on. In the meanwhile, I send teleporters to local hospitals to locate people with horrible injuries. This will allow the vampires and the healers among us to demonstrate that ability for real.

  I resume naming people and the rest of it until Nero grabs my shoulder and whispers, “We should talk.”

  He says it in a such a way that I know resistance would be futile—not that I even want to resist.

  “Felix, Ariel, can you take over for a minute?” I say. “Name and dress whoever hasn’t gotten a name yet, and decide in what order everyone should go on TV.”

  Before they can reply, Nero drags me behind the stage.

  Crap.

  He’s another person I almost forgot about—which is why he doesn’t have his superhero outfit on, or anything else for that matter.

  That or my subconscious did it on purpose because I like seeing Nero naked.

  “I think you should get a boost with everyone else,” I say to him huskily, hyperaware of all that maleness so close to me.

  “Oh?” Nero frames my face with his big hands, his expression growing strangely tender. “And what should my superhero name be?”

  “Big Snake?” I say, glancing down at the thing between us that’s making it hard to concentrate. “Or Mighty Dragon—”

  Nero silences me with a hungry kiss, and for the next few moments, I’m reminded why I have to win.

  I have a lot to live for.

  All sorts of wonderful things.

  Big, hard things.

  “We shouldn’t,” Nero murmurs eventually, pulling away from me.

  “We totally should.” I pull him back. “This is very motivational.”

  He groans. “We can’t. We’ll destroy this whole place and all your heroes.”

  Right. Sex outside his warded dragon castle leads to me drinking his blood, and then to inconveniences such as craters in the ground and felled trees.

  I lick my lips. “There’s got to be things we still can do. Maybe you—”

  “Not safe,” he growls. “And this is not why I brought you here.”

  “It’s not?”

  He blows out a frustrated breath. “I wanted to try to talk to you about something for the last time. Rasputin told me it will be futile, but I still owe it to myself to try.”

  “Let me guess. It’s about bailing on the battle with my tail tucked between my legs?”

  “I’d call it ‘retreating and letting someone else fight the fight,’” he says.

  I grit my teeth. “I don’t care what you’d call it. How many times do we need to rehash the same argument?”

  “It’s different now,” Nero says. “Even if Tartarus survives today, the plan we put into place will set him back centuries. He needs his army to invade Earth—so if they take great losses today, there will be no invasion.”

  “Rasputin didn’t see any of that. That’s just optimistic conjecture.” I shake my head. “We’ve been through this. Tartarus needs to be stopped.”

  Nero’s eyebrows snap together. “You’re not actually a superhero. You’re pretending to be one. Or did you forget?”

  “I know what I am—which is why there’s nothing you can say to change my mind.”

  “Are you sure?” His eyes glitter with a strange light, the limbal rings expanding. “Not even ‘I love you?’”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I blink at him.

  He leans in, his gaze drilling into me. “If you die, I will not be able to stand it.”

  I just keep blinking.

  And blinking.

  And blinking—as if my brain crashed and now needs a reboot.

  He loves me?

  Of all the arguments I expected him to make, that wasn’t on the list—which is maybe why he said it.

  But did he mean it?

  I mean, I know he cares about me, in his growly, overprotective, often-overbearing way, but this—

  “We’re ready to start the TV demonstrations,” someone’s voice announces, interrupting my scrambled thoughts. “We took a vote and decided Sasha should go first and Nero second, so we need you guys.”

  “I’m coming,” I say, purely on autopilot.

  Giving me an unreadable look, Nero blurs away.

  As I follow, I belatedly recall that when someone makes a statement of the kind Nero just dr
opped, you’re expected to say something back—ideally, how you feel.

  Except I didn’t get a chance to do so, and I’m too overwhelmed to figure anything out.

  What the hell was he thinking, starting this kind of conversation now? It would be too much even if there wasn’t Armageddon around the corner.

  When I come back out, I see Rasputin hand Nero two spandex monstrosities with scales and glitter glued to them. “These are two copies of your outfit. We realized you didn’t have one and found something in one of the fitting rooms here. Also, since Sasha didn’t name you, you’ll be Drakon.”

  “How original,” I manage to say. “You named him ‘dragon’ but in Russian.”

  Not caring what his name is, Nero dresses as I stand there, still processing his revelation. Then someone hands me something that’s meant to be my superhero outfit.

  “Wait a second,” I say, getting some of my speech back thanks to outrage. “This will make me look like a stripper playing a dominatrix.”

  “You didn’t specify what you wanted, so Lilith suggested a copy of her own getup—which was also something that was lying around here,” Felix explains and nods at Lilith—who is indeed wearing an identical excuse for an outfit. “Just put it on and go do your demonstration.”

  Shaking my head, I go to the back of the stage and change into the getup.

  “You’re on,” the camera guy says when I walk back out.

  Crap. I didn’t prepare any patter for myself. This is happening too fast; I need at least a month for this.

  Oh, well.

  Taking in a deep breath, I walk in front of the camera, doing my best not to give in to the stage fright nibbling at me.

  “Dear citizens, it’s me again—this time coming out of my superhero closet.” I float off the ground to remind them of our last meeting. “I call myself Vespa, and I’m a superhero destined to defeat Tartarus—a villain who will try to take over the world today.”

  The Cognizant in the crowd clap, but I wish there were some uninjured humans around, so I could gauge normal people’s reactions.