by Casey Lane
“Get off me, you’re sweaty, and you weigh like six hundred pounds,” Kai wheezed from beneath him. Rhys jerked to his feet, noting the dread on Quinn and Tristin’s face as they stared towards the bed. He turned, following their gaze, dread settling in his belly, relaxing only slightly as he realized it was just Neoma. She sat on Tristin’s bed in a pair of pajamas, staring at all of them with a calm Rhys found creepy.
She looked them up and down. They were all drenched in sweat and Rhys could barely hear over the pounding of the blood in their veins. There was nothing he could say to explain where they’d been or what they’d been doing.
Neoma watched Rhys, expression curious. “Gen says to tell you that you’re all really dumb if you think you can sneak out on a shifter. She also says you better tell Wren and Isa what you did, or she’ll tell them for you.”
Rhys’s shoulders sagged, and they each exchanged nervous glances…all but Kai. Kai turned, staring out into the darkness for a long moment, before slamming the window shut and latching it.
Neoma looked haunted, staring past Kai to look out into the darkness. “I don’t think a lock is going to keep it out.”
Nobody asked what she meant. They all knew she was right.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Neoma
Neoma used to love to dream. After Wren left the second time, dreaming was her only escape from Dylan, from Cain, from everything. But there was no escape in sleep anymore. Since coming to Belle Haven, sleep was just an excuse to remember. Remember the horrible things done to her.
But this dream wasn’t like the others. There was no familiarity, no hazy fragment of a memory just out of focus. It wasn’t even a dream...if anything it was a nightmare. She was back at the corn maze. This time, there was no blue sky. No summer storms full of tornadoes. Just the vastness of an ink-black sky dotted with a million stars. It left her with a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach.
The corn of the maze had long since rotted and died, the ground razed, leaving only charred stalks, blackened earth and the feeling of desolation. It was quiet in this alien world, so quiet she was afraid to breathe, sure that even sound of her own ragged inhalation might stir up something evil from the ashes of the field. She didn’t want to be there. She hated this place. If places had feelings, she’d say that this place hated her right back.
She closed her eyes. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. She opened her eyes. Nothing had changed. She turned slowly in a circle, trembling in the warm night air. Everything was so still. So empty. No street lights. No cars. Not even a breeze. Just the dilapidated house with its gaping mouth and the mountains rising in the distance. She closed her eyes once more. Help me. Please. Wake up. Wake up.
She opened her eyes again, gaping at the creature before her, its translucent skin glowing in the shadows. Neoma swallowed her scream, her pulse pounding in her ears. It was a woman. Well, it had once been a woman. A snarl of dark hair obscured the creature’s face but not its pale limbs, not the arms that seemed too long for her body or her legs that were bent at strange angles, causing her to lurch forward, with hesitant, jerking steps.
When the woman looked up, Neoma’s eyes went wide. This woman, this creature, was painfully thin, barely more than fragile paper pulled taut over jutting bones. She had hollow black eyes and lips that were a jagged slash of red on her corpse white flesh. The dragon. The zompire.
When she spoke, the creature’s voice was a rusty hinge, grinding and raw. “Hello, little fae.” Neoma couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. After each sentence, the woman took a heaving gasp, as if the air she breathed hurt somehow. She moved closer, her image fading, then growing stronger with each step. Neoma retreated, doing her best to keep distance between them. “Remember me?”
Neoma’s breath hitched—a feeling like a thousand fire ants biting her at once—flooding her memory. The corn field. The people in black. They bit her. They fed off of her. There. In the center of that maze.
“So, you do remember?” She closed the distance between them, trailing one long jagged nail along Neoma’s cheek. She sucked in a sharp breath at the sting. “Our connection’s growing stronger now. With each memory you recall, the easier it will be for me to reach through. To pluck you right out from under their noses.”
Neoma jerked away, but the creature kept advancing. “Why? Why are you doing this to me?”
“Oh, that’s right. The witch took your memories. I have your answers, little fae. I know the truth of your family. I know the dark deeds your precious Ezri thought you were too childish to handle. I can give them all back to you.”
Neoma tripped, crying out as her ankle turned, sparks arching along her spine as she hit the ground hard. She kept moving though, crawling backward on her hands, dragging her sore ankle, another whine escaping her lips as the creature closed the distance between them. “Where are you going, child? Don’t you want your answers? All I ask for is your blood. I’m so hungry.”
How much of it was real? Was this a dream? It didn’t feel like a dream. Neoma wiped at her cheek, feeling the warm sticky wetness of her blood. Was it a memory? It didn’t feel like a memory either. Beads of sweat formed along her hairline and upper lip. She didn’t want answers. She just wanted to go home. She wanted to be back in her bed with Tristin. She didn’t want whatever this thing was offering.
“No,” Neoma managed, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth, her lips dry and cracking.
“No? No?!” the woman screeched. “How dare you refuse me? I’ve never given another as many concessions as I’ve given you. I’ll have my blood.” The woman looked up then, tilting her head to the side, her eyes like vacant black holes. “Do you hear that? Do you?” Neoma didn’t hear anything. “Of course, you don’t. There’s nothing to hear. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Night after night, I offer up my treasures. Night after night, I seek his council and yet each and every night he refuses my gifts. When I offered your blood, he always listened. He would come to me. Would make me whole. But now he refuses me. Look at me. Look what you’ve done to me?”
What could Neoma have done to her? She was crazy. Neoma kept backing away, her nightgown dragging in the dirt. Neoma didn’t want to believe any of it was real. People didn’t look like that. People didn’t move that way. This had to be a nightmare. “Leave me alone.”
The woman made a noise of disgust. “Oh, but that I could. I wish I’d never set eyes on you. I wish that I’d never taken what the wolf had offered. He destroyed me. He tricked me. Him and that witch...Ruby. But I made them pay.” That raw, heaving laugh. “Well, I made her pay anyway. I can't take the credit for the wolf.”
The creature’s image hiccupped, fading and strengthening once more, only this time, she held a large blade, the curved handle forming into her palm. The blade she’d used to kill the hollow people. “We don’t have to be enemies, little fae. Give me your blood freely, and we can go back to our arrangement before the wolf’s death. I’ll even keep hiding your scars.”
Neoma shook her head. Remembering the pain of her bite, the feeling of fire pumping through her veins. “You hurt me.”
The creature's mouth puckered. “Oh, just the once. It was necessary. For the connection. Once we were bonded, did I not let you go? Did I not return you to your pack? I assure you, the wolf was far gentler than any of the others would have been. It doesn't have to hurt. I could take your pain.”
“Just leave me alone.”
The creature hissed, revealing a mouthful of sharp, rotting teeth. “You’ve ruined me, but still I offer you mercy. I had hoped we could come to some arrangement, but you are being unreasonable. So, now, I’ll bleed you slowly, until your blood mixes with the magic in the soil. He’ll come then...he’ll have no choice but to hear me then...and he’ll devour you.”
Neoma’s eyes widened, heart hammering in her chest, a tiny sob escaping. Maybe it was better that way. Without Neoma, the pack was safe. Without her blood, maybe the woman in black would just…disappear.
The thing scoffed. “Such a martyr. Perhaps, I’ll use your friends? Would you like that? Hmm?”
She waved a hand, and suddenly Rhys, Tristin, Kai, and Quinn stood there, wearing the clothes they’d fallen asleep in, blinking in confusion as they took in the scene before them. “Oh, yes. What a lovely offering this will make. I’ll feed them your blood, and then I’ll bleed them like pigs. Two reapers, a wolf and-” she cut off abruptly, turning hollow black eyes on Quinn, head tilting, repeatedly jerking, lip curling in a sneer. “What are you, exactly? Are-are you simply just human?”
“Neoma?” Tristin asked, voice cracking, curling her hand protectively in Quinn’s, tugging him closer. “What’s going on?”
“Leave them alone,” Neoma begged, ignoring Tristin’s question. Maybe if she didn’t acknowledge the others, she’d let them go. She needed the woman to let them go. This had started with her; it should end with her.
Rhys looked at Neoma, frowning as he took in her torn, filthy nightgown and her swollen ankle. His green eyes glowed, teeth dropping, a low growl rumbling from his chest. The creature raised her hand, curling it into a fist, and just like that, Rhys was back in his human form. “Try that again, and I’ll see you permanently neutered, Dog.”
Rhys was visibly trembling, hands clenched, white knuckled at his sides. Still, he stepped between Neoma and the creature, staring her down, gaze unflinching. Neoma knew he must be terrified. “We know what you are.”
“Do you?” she hissed, before cackling madly, delighted by Rhys’s admission. “And what will you do about it? Do you think your pure enough to wield this blade? Oh, so brave. Such a little warrior. Yes, your sacrifice will please him greatly.”
“Stay behind me,” Rhys told them without looking back, clearly unwilling to take his eyes off the woman.
“Yes, line up single file, it will make this so much easier,” the woman taunted.
Neoma clenched Tristin’s free hand and then Kai’s, letting them pull her to her feet. Neoma had no choice but to rest her weight on Kai, her ankle throbbing in time with her heartbeat. Neoma’s magic collided with an underlying pulse of electricity running through the twins, the current shivering through the four of them until Quinn hissed in pain, drawing the creature’s attention.
“Oh, look at you children. Are you going to take me on? Here in my own little realm? That’s darling.” She flexed her hand again, and then she was holding two blades, one in each hand. “Last chance, little fae. Give me your blood freely, or give it by force after you’ve watched me drain every last drop from your friends. The choice is yours.”
Neoma’s hands clenched around Kai and Tristin’s, testing the power she felt there. “Rhys, take Kai’s hand.”
Rhys reached behind him. Kai gripped his hand until his knuckles were white. Neoma didn’t have a clue what she was doing, but she felt like it was right. She closed her eyes, opening her mind to her four friends. She felt their connection catch and flame, their magic flowing through her like a wave. “Rhys, hold out your hand. Now!”
He did what she asked without question, gasping as lightning arched from his palm.
Then the woman was just gone, and Neoma was sitting up in her bed, her hand still wrapped around Tristin’s. Tristin’s feet were dirty, and Neoma’s nightgown was still stained. Her ankle was purple and swollen. She could feel the sting on her cheek where the woman’s jagged nail had cut her.
Neither spoke as they cleaned themselves up. When they were as clean as they could be without rousing the adults, they grabbed their pillows and Tristin’s blanket, heading for the door. Neoma didn’t want to be alone, but Gen and Hadley had told them to give Wren and Isa space—whatever that meant—so there was only one other place to go.
Neoma knocked softly on Rhys’s bedroom door before pushing it open, not waiting for his response. He wouldn’t refuse them. He was already sitting up in bed, his hair a tangled mess, his t-shirt sweat-damp and clinging to his chest, one leg of his pajama pants pushed up as if he’d been struggling in his sleep.
Tristin snagged the sleeping bag from Rhys’s closet, spreading it across the floor, helping Neoma sit before sitting herself, bunching the comforter around them.
The door opened, and Kai and Quinn entered, pillows and blankets in hand. Quinn dropped his stuff near Tristin, not even bothering to spread out his blanket, just sinking to the floor like the weight of standing was too much for him.
It was Kai who looked embarrassed, cheeks flushing as he looked quickly to Rhys. But Rhys said nothing as Kai laid out his comforter, choosing the space between Neoma and Rhys—the space closest to Rhys’s bed.
Silence yawned between them, each fidgeting nervously. She could almost feel their questions, could sense their confusion. But she didn’t have any answers.
“W-what was that?” Quinn finally asked, his voice a hushed whisper. “That was real, right? Was that the draugen?”
Neoma nodded.
“She was going to kill us,” Kai said, shuddering as if he was remembering. “That was her. The woman from my dream."
“You dreamed of her too?”
Kai nodded. “Yeah. I dreamed she hurt you.”
“I dreamed about her too,” Tristin confessed quietly. “I think that was the vampire from my dream.”
"I thought you said you didn't remember the vampire in your dreams?" Neoma asked, hurt. Why would Tristin lie?
Tristin looked away. "I didn't...not until I saw her. Then I remembered everything. Everything she did to you."
Rhys ran his hands through his hair. "What did you remember? Tell us everything."
Tristin looked to Neoma. "You remember too, don't you? You remember what she did to you?"
Neoma gave one stilted nod before she started trembling. She couldn't help it. She'd tried so hard to block the memory from her mind. Tristin curled her fingers around Neoma's, smiling encouragingly. "It's your story to tell, not mine."
Neoma took a deep, shuddery breath. She tried not to remember how she felt. She just needed to remember the details. Pretend it happened to somebody else and she was just reporting what she'd seen. "Dylan and Ruby took me to the corn maze...that’s where she was…in the center of the maze…with the hollow people. She fed on me and then she gave me to the hollow people, and they fed on me too. And then she killed them all, one after the other. And they wanted her too. They lined up to be sacrificed. Everybody except Ruby. Dylan tricked Ruby into being the final sacrifice. Said it was an honor to feed the dragon.”
“Quinn tell us what you know about this draugen.”
"It's what Neoma said. It's a zompire. I deadened soul in a living body, feeds on blood to survive.”
"How is that any different than a vampire?" Kai asked.
"Origin, I guess. Vampirism is a virus passed through blood or saliva. The draugen is a curse passed on through a bloodline. A genetic anomaly."
Something occurred to Rhys then. "I've never heard of a draugen...are there a lot of them?"
Quinn shrugged. "I don’t know, but I doubt it. They are more common in Norway. I only even know about them because my father used to make me study which creatures truly exist and which are made up by humans. The draugen is real...but they’re not common."
Rhys thought back to Neoma’s memory. Ezri’s story. “But Ezri’s mom knew of one in her village, and now there’s one following Neoma for her blood. That can’t be a coincidence. Especially not if it’s passed on through a bloodline.”
“Who is Ezri?” Quinn moaned, clearly bewildered.
“Hadley helped me remember a story Ezri told me. A story her mom told her about a zom-a draugen-that lived in her village in Norway,” Neoma said, by way of explanation.
Rhys ran his hands through his hair. “No, Ezri told you a story about two witch sisters and how one of them became a draugen. It seems like an awfully bit coincidence that Ezri’s mother—a witch—knew of two other teen witches, one of whom became a draugen and now, we have a draugen that has attached herself to Neoma.�
�
“What are you saying?”
“What if the other witch, the one who helped kill her sister, what if that witch was Ezri’s mother?”
Neoma sucked in a startled breath. “You think the witch…Malfred…you think that was Magna?”
“I’m so confused,” Tristin whined.
“It makes sense,” Rhys said, before correcting himself. “I mean, as much as any of this makes sense.”
* * *
Neoma's heart slammed hard against her ribs. "But why would Magna want my blood? The zompire she talked about in her village drank from the blood of human children?"
"Maybe she thought your blood would taste better cause you're an elemental?" Tristin supplied. "All kinds of supernatural creatures want to drink fae blood because it's magical."
Kai looked to Quinn; his eyebrows scrunched together like he was thinking hard about something. "Can this draugen shapeshift?"
Quinn considered for a moment, "I don't think so. Not in any lore I've ever read."
Tristin's eyes lit up. "But demons can!"
They all looked at her, surprised by her sudden enthusiasm. "You think the stag in the woods is a demon?" Kai asked, staring at his sister. "And this excites you?"
Tristin rolled her eyes. "No! But think about it. We found that witch’s trap out in the woods, and it looked just like the stones in Neoma’s corn maze. The draugen is a witch. And she kept going on and on just now about how our sacrifice would please ‘him’ greatly. Get it. She’s trying to summon a demon."
"My head hurts," Kai said.
Neoma agreed. “Before she pulled you into my nightmare, she told me that he won’t come to her anymore. She said that I made her sick and ‘he’ made her whole but that he wouldn’t come to her anymore because she didn’t have my blood to offer. I think Tristin’s right. She’s trying to summon a demon.”
