Unleashing Magick: an Urban Fantasy Novel (The Witch Blood Chronicles Book 4)
Page 8
I nodded. “Yeah, I do.”
“Fine. I can stop your heart, and after a minute has passed, I will restart it, or attempt to.”
“Like hell I’m leaving this up to you,” Vritra said. He grabbed his jeans off the floor and shrugged them on then pulled his phone from the pocket. “We’re going to need a medical team and equipment.”
The reaper sighed. “As you wish, but if I cannot bring her back, then there will be nothing your medical team can do.”
“Yes, well, humor me,” Vritra said.
“In the meantime, I must prepare my protective circle.” The reaper reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of chalk, it glowed dimly in the gloom.
“Circle? What for?” Vritra asked.
“We’re not in the habit of lingering once I stop a heart. If we do, then Yama’s reapers would see us. The circle renders us invisible to them.” He turned his attention to me. “This way when your reaper comes for you he won’t see me. If he did, things could get complicated.”
His words brought home the harsh reality of what I was about to do, and my mouth went bone dry.
“Carmella. Are you sure about this?” Vritra asked.
“I’m sure.”
“In that case, I’ll make the call.”
***
The reaper had been shown to the training room to build his circle. We’d decided the heart stopping would take place there. Dressed and waiting on the medical team, I paced Vritra’s suite.
“How does this affect you being anchor?” Vritra asked suddenly, as if the thought had just popped into his head, but in truth he’d probably been trying to find a reason to prevent me from going through with this for the past hour.
How could I blame him? If roles were reversed, I’d be begging and pleading and using every trick in the book to stop him from willingly dying. But he had a valid question and, damn, thank God he’d asked it now.
“I need to speak to Elora.”
Garnet answered the high witch’s phone. “Carmella, how are you feeling? The spell is done. We’re now working on the incantation to draw Malachi out. It should be ready soon. Hopefully by dawn.”
“That’s great, but it’s not why I’m calling. I need to know what happens if I die. I mean, what happens to the anchor stuff?”
“Carmella, we will beat Malachi. You are not going to die.”
Shit. “Actually, I am, but only for a minute.” I quickly explained our plan to get to Yama.
Garnet was silent for a long beat. “If the reaper can bring you back it means you are still tethered to this world, to life, which will mean the anchor will remain intact, but if he fails then we lose the skein and any chance of finalizing the incantation to summon Malachi.”
“You said you’d be done by dawn?”
“Yes.”
“So, we wait till dawn. You’ll have what you need from the skein so you’ll no longer need me. We were going to unbind me from the skein eventually anyway, right?”
“Right, but not like this.”
“Don’t you worry. I fully intend to come back.”
“Elora will not be happy about this.”
“Then don’t tell her. She needs to focus on the incantation.”
“Very well. I will send you a message once we have what we need.”
I hung up and turned to Vritra. “We need to wait till dawn.
The relief that swam across his face, almost undid me, and then he was holding me against him so tight, I honestly thought he’d never let me go. I stared at the clock on the wall behind him.
It was midnight. Five and a half hours until dawn.
Five and a half hours until I died.
***
A camp bed had been set up in the training room, next to an intricate circle decorated with strange runic patterns unlike anything I’d ever seen. The yamduth stood in the center in his cocoon of twisting shadows. I lowered myself onto the bed and lay down. My heart, which he would be stopping in a moment, was pounding extra hard, as if aware it was headed for shut down and wanted to demonstrate its capacity in an attempt to avoid its fate. The camp bed was pretty comfy, and I was shattered.
Vritra had tried to get me to take a nap once we knew it would be dawn before we could do anything, but knowing death was waiting for you, however briefly, wasn’t the best lullaby. At least the coven had what they needed. They’d be summoning Malachi today and binding him, and I intended to be there when they did it.
Vritra knelt at my side and took my hand in his. His face was a map of anxious shadows, and his chest rose and fell erratically. My super composed mate was a mess of nerves with worry for my life. God, I loved him. If only we’d had more time. If only I’d recognized my feelings for him sooner and just given him a chance, instead I’d allowed Paimon to capture my heart. But it was impossible to wish it had never happened, because Paimon had pulled me from despondency and helped my get over my ex-lover, Drake. Paimon had given me back my confidence when it came to relationships and love, setting me on the path that made me ready for this, for Vritra, ready to claim him as my mate with confidence. And I was damned if this was going to be it. I’d come back, even if I had to claw my way out of the underworld.
The two medical professionals Vritra had called in finished setting up their resuscitation machines.
The yamduth looked down at me. “Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
Vritra’s hand tightened around mine, but there was no way I was looking at him. If I looked into his eyes, I’d see my fear reflected there and I’d lose my nerve.
“Just do it already.”
The yamduth raised his hand, writhing with plumes of darkness, and then slammed it into my chest. Vritra’s incensed roar was the last thing I heard and then the world fell into silence and I saw him.
My reaper.
He glided toward me, his face serene and calm and he held out his hand. There was no gloom to obstruct my view of his powerful form. He wore loose pants and a fitted tunic. And a silver glowing whip sat snug at his waist. He reached for it, unfurled it and then with a soft smile, pulled back his arm and let it fly toward me. There was no sting. No pain, just a single exhalation.
And then I died.
10
A bridge made of gray stone stretched out under me. A thick gray mist surrounded everything. There was water; I was sure of it, far below us, but obscured by the otherworldly fog. It reminded me of the in-between where Paimon used to hide, where I’d first set eyes on his beautiful face, and where I’d finally unlocked my power. There was a lake, way down below, yes, a lake…also gray. I was sensing a theme here.
“Dismal isn’t it?” The voice was smooth and pleasant.
I glanced up at the reaper by my side. “A bit too much gray for my liking. So, what happens now? I assume we cross this bridge.”
“Yes. We do.”
He began to glide across it, and I followed, my feet barely touching the ground. My feet? Where were they? No, don’t look, but I had to, and there they were—bare and see through—hovering above the stone. Panic was a band around my chest. Wait. What chest? I was an ethereal ghost. But then I saw others, to my left and to my right, floating apparitions just like me following their reapers, sometimes three or four following one reaper. The band loosened as my curiosity piqued.
I caught up to my guide. “How come that reaper has more souls?”
“He is a mid-level Reaper.”
“And what level are you?”
He smiled indulgently. “I’m your reaper, Carmella Hunter.”
Okay. “But when you reap other souls, are you allowed to reap more than one at a time?”
“No. Because I am your reaper.”
Either he just didn’t understand me or he was being deliberately obtuse. Of course, I knew he was my reaper, he’d come to get me after all, so he didn’t need to keep emphasizing the fact. Wait. He kept emphasizing the fact. “Are you solely my reaper? Like only for me?”
His smile widened. “That is what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
Whoa. Wait a second. “So your whole purpose in life is to collect one soul?”
“Every soul is special,” he said. “But some are uniquely destined. They require special attention. They are allocated to the highest level reapers and once they have been reaped, we too get to ascend.”
“Ascend?”
“Existence, life and death are a cycle. Death is followed by rebirth and then death once more. But reapers neither live nor die. We remain suspended in between, watching both sides of the coin, yearning to experience, to feel. Ascension is a gift. It is when we step out of the in-between and are reborn into the cycle.”
“I always thought ascension was when you became enlightened and no longer needed an actual form.” Or maybe I’d watched too much science fiction in my time.
“It is a perceptual quandary, is it not? For us in the gray, life is ascension.”
“So you deliver me to Yama and you get to ascend?”
We were almost at the other side of the bridge where a huge, dark, wrought iron gate rose up into the mist. The doors stood slightly ajar as if waiting for us.
“When Yama accepts your soul. When your tether to the living is severed, then I shall ascend.”
Oh shit. Now I felt bad, because that wasn’t going to happen. It wasn’t the plan, but there was no way I could tell him that. He looked so…happy. But I needed to know he wasn’t going to get into shit for it.
I kept my tone light and my expression neutral. “So, what happens if the connection isn’t severed? Like if my friends manage to bring me back to life.”
He looked down on me, his brows knitting. “You are hoping that you still have time.”
“God, no. Just curious.”
He studied me a moment longer and I guess my poker face wasn’t as great as I’d hoped because he sighed, his dark eyes gleaming with compassion.
“Let me explain how it works,” he said. “Each soul is marked with its time of death, but some are also marked with jaunts into the underworld, from which they are permitted to return. You would call them near death experiences. The reapers who collect these souls are aware of this. These collections are given to the trainee reapers as they are good practice for the full journey. But your soul is not among those. It is why it was allocated to me. Your death was prewritten, Carmella Hunter. And it is today.”
His words slammed into me, hitting me in the solar plexus and stealing my breath. No, this couldn’t be happening. I was going back. I had to. But the gates were looming, and as much as I wanted to stop moving forward, my legs just wouldn’t allow it.
I grabbed at my reapers arm. “Please. There has to be a way back.”
He patted my hand. “There is, Carmella. You have led a worthy life and you will be reborn.”
But I didn’t want to be reborn. I wanted to go back as me, Carmella Hunter—back to my world which needed saving, back to Vritra and my friends and my life. What had I done? What the fuck had I done? Tears of impotence pricked my lids, because I was in the Underworld about to be severed from life. There was no escape from this. No cut and run. Vritra…I hadn’t said goodbye. I hadn’t held him one last time. I would never see him again.
The bars were before us, and beyond was nothing but thick mist. The reaper pressed a hand to the small of my back and guided me through. The world was filled with light and when it abated a gold and red marbled chamber came into view. There were others ahead of me, souls like me moving along in a queue. Huge marble statues rose up to meet the intricately molded ceiling. The chamber was so vast, we were like ants crawling through it. How much time did I have before it was all over? How much time before they put my soul into the pool of life and I forgot everything?
Ears buzzing with horror of my predicament I gripped my reapers sleeve. “What happens now?”
He patted my hand soothingly. “You will be seen by Yama. Do not fear. It will not hurt. There will be no pain.”
The queue continued to move and my pulse, even though I knew I really didn’t have one, was racing. Phantom pulse, ha. Pull it together. I knew Yama, or had known him as a mortal man. It’s why I’d come here confident he would help us, so maybe…maybe he’d help me too. I just needed to convince him of the fact. None of the other souls were accompanied by their reapers now. But mine stuck to me like glue. He was probably excited about his ascension.
The queue shifted forward again and again, and another set of doors came into view guarded by two more reapers. We were almost there. Shit, Yama was getting through these souls fast, and then it was my turn. My reaper led the way into the room beyond. Crimson and yellow and emerald hues painted the walls. There was no furniture, and at the end of the room, seated on a throne made of ivory and ebony was Yama himself. His chin was tucked in as he scanned a scroll in his lap. And then three prepubescent boys ran into the room from an entrance to the left.
I knew these boys. The triplets had been adopted by Yama when he’d been trapped in a mortal body, and Malina had loved them too. One of them glanced my way and froze. His eyes widened and then he nudged his brothers.
Yama looked across at them and sighed. “How many times have I asked you not to disturb me when I’m working?”
One of the boys’ leaned in and whispered into Yama’s ear. Yama’s head snapped up and his mercury gaze locked on me. Recognition flared in the silver depths of his eyes. He glanced down at his scroll and pressed his lips together.
“Hello, Carmella.”
I licked my dry lips. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Is it?”
“Okay, no. It’s not, but I came here for a reason.”
He arched a brow. “Yes, you died.”
He wasn’t being quippy, this was just who he was—a state-the-facts kind of dude. I had to respect that. “Yes. I did. But I died deliberately because I needed to see you.”
My reaper tensed. “Lord Yama. Her heart stopped of its own accord.”
The rogue reaper had helped me out by stopping my heart, and he didn’t want Yama knowing where he was, but if I couldn’t convince the lord of death that I was telling the truth, then there was no way he’d help me.
I shot my reaper an apologetic wince. “No, it didn’t. I coerced a rogue reaper into stopping my heart because I needed to get a message to Yama.”
Yama leaned forward. “A rogue?” He glanced at my reaper. “There was a rogue in the vicinity?”
My reaper shook his head. “I assure you that is not the case. I would have sensed another reaper.”
The last thing I wanted was to get anyone into trouble. I jumped in quickly. “No, you wouldn’t have. He was in a protective circle with weird runes drawn around it.”
My reaper exhaled sharply. “I did sense magick, but I assumed it was emanating from the other occupants of the room.”
Yama’s eyes grew hard. “Those rogues stole souls. They won’t hide from me forever. I will find them.” He locked gazes with me. “I believe that your journey was planned. Now, what is your message, Carmella?”
I told him about the cosmic gods and the upcoming purge. I told him about our gods abandoning us, and then took a breath. “We need your help in the fight. If this cosmic god takes over our world, it will upset the balance for us all. Even for you.”
Yama’s eyes narrowed as he considered my words. His sons gathered around his throne and then leaned in to whisper urgently.
He nodded. “I have been training my sons in the art of effective decision making. They have suggested we weigh our decision based upon your deeds.”
What did that mean? The air shimmered and a set of huge measuring scales appeared to my right. They looked like supersized old-fashioned scales used to depict the Libra star sign in the zodiac.
“These scales will weigh the taint on your soul,” Yama said. “Consider this a test of humanity’s worth. If you rise, I will aid in the fight. If you sink, then humanity will be left to its own defense
s.”
Oh, God. He was going to use my deeds to determine the fate of humanity? How was that fair? I’d killed a djinn—ripped off his head without a thought. I’d been horrible to Penelope when Drake had left me for her, and I’d hurt Vritra again and again by turning to Paimon instead of him. There was a whole list of broken hearts, and messy relationships in my past. Not to forget all the cock ups I’d made. I was a terrible example of humanity.
But the look on Yama’s face made it clear there was no other choice. It was this or nothing. I climbed up onto the scales and sat down. For a long moment nothing happened. They remained level, and then slowly I began to rise, higher and higher until the clang of the other bowl as it hit the ground filled the room.
My reaper was staring at the scales, mouth ajar, and the boys let our excited whoops. Yama stepped off his throne and strode over to the scales.
He held out his hand to me. “Come, Carmella. Let me help you.”
I slipped my palm into his and allowed him to help me to the ground. The scales vanished and, I looked up into his beautiful face, captivated by the shifting shadows in his silver eyes.
“I don’t understand. I mean, I’ve done bad things.”
“Obviously, not bad enough. Your good deeds outweigh the times you may have hurt your fellow man. You feed the homeless, give them shelter. You counseled two men who were breaking your heart. You are inherently a good, moral person, Carmella. You are what I’d like to call a silent hero.”
His words were like a veil lifting in my mind. All this time I’d been desperate to be someone powerful. I’d wanted to be a hero like Malina, someone who could make a difference, but I’d been making a difference all along without even realizing it.
“It’s easy to make a grand gesture,” Yama said. “It is those people that make hundreds of small gestures in their lives, without even giving them a second thought that are the true heroes.”
“Does that mean you’ll help us?”
He smiled. “Yes, I will help. I will ride with my army and I will fight alongside your people if need be.” He released me and stepped back. “You have delivered your message and you have done your part. But now, it is time for your beautiful soul to rest.”