by J. Thorn
Dax nodded. “And I’m pretty sure he’s the one who has the kids I’m after. But that’s where things get complicated.” Dax next told Alex all about his dream talks with Papa Midnight, and also the Angel he’d mentioned.
When he was done, Alex said nothing. She slid off the dresser and stood near the wall, looking at one of the posters.
“You don’t believe me?” Dax said.
“Of course I do,” Alex said. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you alone.”
She moved to the edge of the bed, sitting down. Dax sat all the way up, pushing himself back and against the headboard.
“I’ve been having similar dreams,” Alex said.
“You saw Isaac?”
Alex shook her head. “They only started a couple of nights ago—right before you came into our little church. They were blurry, but since you’ve been around, they’ve become more clear—more real. Last night, Papa Midnight came to see me. And it was exactly as you described. With the tree and everything.”
“What did he say to you?”
“He told me that he couldn’t reach you because you were preoccupied, and now I know what he meant. But he wanted me to give you a message. He said that you don’t have to choose whether or not to seek the Angel or your loved ones.”
Dax narrowed his eyes. “What? Why has he been telling me then that I have to choose?”
“I don’t know. But he said head north, and his ‘spirit’ will be our guide. And that if we can find the Angel, that we will find the children.”
“They’re in the same place,” Dax mumbled.
“That’s what I gather.”
“But I don’t understand. Why didn’t he tell me that in the first place? Why did he make it seem like I had to choose?”
“Maybe it was a test.”
Dax snorted. “Seems like a pretty shitty time to be testing me.”
“He could have wanted to see which way you would choose. Perhaps he had his doubts about whether you’re the one, or if things have changed.”
“There is no doubt about who I am,” Dax said. “But I am curious who you are.”
Alex smiled. “I’m just a girl who shares a mutual friend and objective with you. That’s all.”
“Have you only had visions in your dreams?”
Alex nodded. “That thing that happened to you yesterday… Has that happened a lot?”
“No. But I think it’s going to happen more as we get closer to this Angel.”
“What did you see yesterday?”
Closing his eyes, Dax pictured the redheaded sorceress. “A woman. One of the Masters. She was conspiring against the others. It seemed they made some sort of deal with each other, but that she wasn’t willing to keep her end of the bargain.”
“A deal together?” Alex stood abruptly with the question, and turned her back to Dax.
“What's the matter?”
“According to what I’ve read, the Masters have never worked together. They possess an ancient hatred for one another.”
“And it sounds like they still do.”
Alex turned around to face him. “But what if they are working together now?”
Dax considered the question. Serafino had been difficult to defeat on his own, and he hadn’t even been a Master. Since then, Dax had wondered how he would stand a chance against a more powerful being. And if the four Masters did form a union to hunt him down, Alex’s concerns would be more than legitimate.
“We need to get moving,” Dax said.
“I agree. And I think it’s best if you ride with us. You know, just in case you’re right about those visions.”
Dax nodded. “Look, I need to tell you something else.” He cleared his throat. “I owe you an apology.”
Alex scrunched her face up, then asked, “For what?”
“I was planning on going out on my own today and leaving you all behind. Too many people have died while being around me, and I don’t want that burden anymore. I thought it would be better if I were alone. But I realize now that we were supposed to meet. That I need you.”
Alex raised an eyebrow. “You done with all the emotional blubbering now?”
Dax smiled. “Yeah.”
“Good. Then get your shit together and let’s go.”
30
Dax rode in the cab with Alex and Zoe, Alex stationed in the middle while Zoe drove. Saw rode in the bed of the truck, keeping a lookout for threats—human, vampire, or environmental. They’d decided to ditch the motorcycle and consolidate into one vehicle. It had been difficult for Dax to leave the bike behind, but he knew it was for the best. He couldn’t risk having another vision while riding it and getting into a more serious accident. He’d lucked out the last time.
They rode north, passing through small towns and miles of empty fields that stretched across Mississippi.
“How are you?” Alex asked Dax.
Dax waved, not giving her a verbal reply. She’d asked him how he was feeling about every five minutes, and he was already dealing with a headache. It wasn’t normal because he didn’t get headaches often—even when he was in stressful situations, like prison. But he hadn’t had any more of the visions, and that worried him. His theory had been that his visions would become more frequent the farther north they traveled. He should have been experiencing more of them already. But they hadn’t come to him.
The dull throbbing felt different. The pain originated in Dax’s forehead, and he found it difficult to open his eyes in the daylight. The ache wasn’t overwhelming or severe, but it was uncomfortable enough to keep Dax irritable.
They forged on, not bothering to stop at any of the small towns they passed. They had packed gas cans and dry goods, making scrounging for supplies less of a priority. All that mattered now was getting north, and the fewer stops they made, the quicker they would get there.
Zoe was accelerating as the truck approached a slight incline when Dax heard a buzzing in his head.
He buried his face in his hands and leaned over. As the noise intensified, he found himself struggling to breathe.
“Pull over,” he heard Alex say, the words sounding as if they’d come from under water.
The truck hadn’t yet come to a complete stop when Dax opened the door and stumbled out. He fell onto his hands and knees, crawling to the middle of the road. He felt an intense heat in his core—like the worst fever he’d ever imagined, and his vision and the girls’ voices swirled in a kaleidoscope of pain. Sweat fell from his brow, dripping down onto the asphalt.
And when he lifted his head again, the girls and the old blue pickup truck had disappeared.
Dax stood on the dirt road and brushed off his pants. Looking both ways, he saw nothing but brown stretching to the horizon. And when he glanced up, he saw the single tree.
“Hello?” Dax called out. “Papa Midnight?”
Fire exploded in front of him, knocking Dax back to the ground. He crawled to the edge of the road.
The tree had caught fire. The orange flames blended with the fiery clouds streaking across the sky, and the bare branches were turning as black as ash.
It has to be Isaac.
Dax looked around. His eye twitched, and he felt a burning in his throat. Someone—or something—was there with him, and his gut told him to be wary.
“Show yourself!” Dax balled his hands into fists, waiting for Isaac or one of the Masters to reveal themselves. Who else could it be?
“Jackson.”
The voice was familiar, but it sounded frail—almost broken. “Papa Midnight?”
“You must listen to me.”
“Where are you?” Dax looked around again, seeing nothing but miles of flat land and the burning tree.
“Listen to me,” Papa Midnight said. His voice came into Dax’s head directly instead of through his ears. “They will be coming for you very soon—the Masters. Did you receive my message from Alexandra?”
“I did.”
“You must stay with her. As you have
said many times, you cannot do this on your own. The Masters will scorch the land to find you. That is why you must ignite the fire.”
Dax shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You must find the Angel and set him on fire. That is what must be done to save us all.”
“What?” Dax’s face hardened. “You want me to kill an Angel? How do I even do that?”
“You must bury him in smoke, Jackson. It is the only way.”
The fire exploded in front of him again, and Dax stepped back. Several branches fell from the tree, burning as they hit the ground. Four figures rose, morphed out of the burning branches. They walked toward him, nothing but torches in the shape of humans. But through the flames, Dax could see their features.
To his left, an Asian man with thin, cropped hair. Next to him, a darkly majestic Latino woman with hair pulled up on top of her head. And next came a portly man with thin hair and a beard. And a familiar face was the last in line. She wore a sly smile, and her hair bounced off of her shoulders—the master from the vision he’d had the previous day on the highway.
The four Masters.
After he had gotten a good look at them, a heavy breeze blew through from the south. It extinguished the fire and turned the Masters to dust, their remains spiraling like a twister and carrying beyond the still burning tree.
“It is the only way to save us all,” Papa Midnight said.
“But how will I know when I find the Angel? What will he look like? Or is it a she?”
He didn’t respond.
“Papa!”
The sky suddenly went dark, leaving Dax alone in the apparent night with only the burning tree.
A hellish crack rang through the air and the tree leaned forward, its flames licking the night sky.
It was coming, leaning in toward Dax.
He tried to jump out of the way, but he couldn’t move. All he could do was watch the tree falling toward him.
Lifting his hands to his face, Dax screamed.
The scream pulled Dax from the dream. With his skin burning from the hot asphalt, he quickly sat up.
Alex and Zoe kneeled beside him.
“He’s awake,” Alex said.
“Glad to see he’s not dead,” Saw said. Her voice came from the back of the truck, where she still sat keeping a lookout.
Alex put her hand on Dax’s shoulder. “What did you see this time?”
Dax shook her hand off and stood up. His head no longer hurt like it had before he’d succumbed to the vision. He paced back and forth in the road, trying to shake the fog from his mind.
“We have to keep going,” Dax said.
“Was it Papa Midnight?” Alex asked.
Dax nodded.
“What did he say?”
“We’ll talk in the truck,” Dax said. “The most important thing he said is to keep moving.” Dax looked back down the highway the way they’d come. Then he looked at Alex. “Because they’re coming after us.”
31
Bronwyn lay on her bed, running her fingertips along the silk covers. She held a half glass of Merlot in one hand, and was wearing only a corset and black stockings when a knock came at the door. Using her telekinesis, she opened it.
Jaraca and Jing were both there, staring at her through the doorway.
“Well, are you coming in or aren’t you?” Bronwyn asked.
The two Masters entered the room, and Bronwyn used her power again to shut the door behind them. She set her wine glass down and then climbed back onto the bed, stretching her arms over her head and moaning.
“Aren’t these beds glorious?”
“Get to the point,” Jaraca said. “You’re not going to seduce us so you can get your way.”
Bronwyn rolled onto her side and bit her lip. “Resistance only makes me try harder, you know. It’s a real turn-on—especially in a woman.”
“What do you want?” Jing asked.
Bronwyn exhaled and rolled her eyes. “You two are no fun.”
She sat on the edge of the bed then and slipped into a robe. Standing, she tied it around her waist, but was sure to keep the top open, revealing her perked breasts nearly exploding from the corset. The two Masters were trying to ignore her sexual magnetism, but she knew better. She also knew that she needed to tame her game if she wanted them to take her seriously.
Once in the robe, she reached for her Merlot and took another sip.
“Drink?”
Jaraca stepped forward and ripped the glass out of Bronwyn’s hand. She threw it against the wall. The glass shattered, falling to the floor in a crimson spray. The Master then moved to within inches of Bronwyn’s face.
“Quit wasting our time, and tell us why we are here.”
Bronwyn smiled. She used only the tip of her finger to wipe some Merlot from her lips, and then she licked them.
“Controlling,” Bronwyn said. “Another turn-on.”
She then went to a chair on the opposite side of the room and sat down. Crossing her legs, she offered the other two Masters a seat in the cushioned chairs. They just stood before her, not responding.
“Very well then,” Bronwyn said. “I guess I will get straight to the point. How would you two each like to control a third of Ambrose’s territory?”
Jing sneered. “What are you talking about?”
“I thought the question was pretty simple,” Bronwyn said.
“Are you talking about destroying him?” Jaraca asked.
Bronwyn rolled her eyes. “I guess I’m not the only one playing games here.”
“No,” Jaraca said. “I just want to understand what you are asking.”
“Then let me lay it out as simply as possible for you, Queen of the Amazon. How would you like to help me kill Ambrose, and then split his territory with me?”
The two Masters looked at each other. Then Jing spoke. “Where is this coming from?”
“A Master much wiser and stronger than Ambrose,” Bronwyn said. “We all know what he was doing down there. He’s trying to trick us. And he knows that he will be unable to destroy me without your help.”
“But his plan made sense,” Jaraca said. “If we work together, we can capture the human before he is able to destroy us all.”
Bronwyn sighed. “We do not need all of us to do that. You two are not stupid. You know my power. You know that I can hunt down the puny human myself.”
“Then why haven’t you?” Jing asked.
“Because what fun would that be? It’s much more amusing listening to Ambrose’s desperate pleas for help.”
“This is madness,” Jaraca said. “What you are saying makes no sense.”
“And trusting him does?”
Jaraca raised an eyebrow. “Instead we are supposed to trust you?”
Grinning, Bronwyn stood. “The way I see it, you must trust me. You know that I can send you to your final death any time that I want.” Bronwyn ran the tip of her finger down Jaraca’s face and over her lips. “You can play tough, but I know that it is nothing but an act—a desperate attempt to give you an identity. You are mine, and you know it.”
Turning to Jing, Bronwyn stepped in front of him. “And as for you, do you not want to kill him? I can give you that.”
Jing pursed his lips. “What is to say you won’t use us to destroy Ambrose, and then attack us anyway?”
Bronwyn shrugged and ran her hands down Jing’s chest. “Because I’m not sure I can take you both down on my own, and I know that you two have probably been talking privately, as well.”
Jing glanced to Jaraca, who shook her head and then looked at the floor.
“You said we each get a third of his territory?” Jaraca asked.
“Mmmhmm,” Bronwyn said, pulling away from Jing. “So is that a yes?”
The two Masters met eyes with one another, and then they nodded.
“Good,” Bronwyn said. “I am glad to see you made the right decision.”
“Okay. We’re doing this,” Jing said,
“so what’s the next step?”
“You two kids go back to your rooms. I will summon you—I have a plan ready.”
Bronwyn moved past the two other Masters and returned to her bed. She pushed the robe off as she stretched, holding up her hair and arching her back. Then she lay back on the bed again and watched as the two Masters walked to the door.
Bronwyn said, “If it sets your minds at ease, know that I get bored easily. It would be a shame to have this entire world to myself with no playmates.”
She opened the door with her mind, allowing Jing and Jaraca to leave. Bronwyn slammed the door behind them and looked to the ceiling once they were gone.
A malevolent grin spread across her face.
32
When The Night came, Ambrose summoned the others downstairs.
“It is time.”
Bronwyn allowed Ambrose to lead the charge. In his final moments, she would let him believe that he was in control.
As they landed on the Causeway, she turned back to look at the ravaged city of New Orleans. The Masters had left nothing but destruction in their wake, setting fire to what was left of the city. Flames scorched the night sky, licking the horizon.
And it was only the beginning of the destruction.
With four combined armies, nothing could stop the Masters. They had vowed to destroy civilization as they pursued the human. Towns would burn, and the weak would perish, while those who were worthy joined the eternal army in its march towards global domination—the Final Awakening.
When they arrived at the first town on the other side of the Causeway, Bronwyn stood in the middle of the road and looked around. Ambrose was there, standing beside her.
“Would you care to do the honors?” he asked.
Bronwyn grinned. “How sweet of you.”
She then closed her eyes.
She could feel the presence of life around her. The human survivors had been hiding from them, which made it that much more fun. She preferred it that way, as a challenge of sorts.
“Time to come out and play.”
She signaled her troops, and the other three Masters followed her lead. The soldiers spread through the town like a virus, overtaking the weak humans and flooding the streets with the glow. Bronwyn and her lieutenants looked on as the vampires tore through hotels, businesses, and gas stations, searching for sustenance.
