by Jayde Brooks
“She’s traveling with the Guardian?” he asked.
They looked at each other. “She’s traveling with a convoy: the Guardian, a few Weres, and a few Shifters. They’ve got her pretty well protected,” the one leaning against the car added.
Paul pulled his keys from his pocket, headed to his car, climbed in, and started the engine, following them on this trail leading to the reborn.
* * *
The funk of their all-night fuck session permeated the entire warehouse. Lilith and the Brood were long gone, but Kifo knew exactly what had gone on here and why. Lilith was a master dream weaver, a spell caster of sex. She had tricked men and women into believing that they loved her, needed her, and couldn’t live without her. And she had made them believe that she actually loved them, too.
She and Sakarabru had played Kifo like an instrument. The Demon had broken him, torn him down, and nearly destroyed him, only to send her in like the cavalry, to pick up those broken pieces and put him back together again using the lovely spell of pussy and promises. All in the name of Sakarabru. It had worked on Kifo, and it worked on Sakarabru’s most incredible and formidable monster here on Earth, this Brood. It had happened so long ago, and Kifo had been so young and so caught up in the love of Lilith that he never thought to ever question how someone like her could come to want to be with someone like him. But now he understood. Kifo understood everything with such clarity that it sickened him.
BURNIN’ DOWN THE HOUSE
You could cut through the despair with a knife. Jacksonville Sanctuary. In the last week Khale had traveled from one US coast to the other surveying the devastation caused by Sakarabru. She had finally come to Florida and found this place as dismal as any other. She snaked her way slowly through the masses littering the playing field inside what used to be the professional football stadium. Thousands upon thousands had been living inside this place for weeks, and thousands more waited outside the perimeter, hoping to get in. Armed military men perched high in the stands with their guns loaded and ready to shoot those on the outside who tried to break in and those on the inside who may have wanted to leave.
The conditions inside were horrible. The stench of urine, feces, and cigarettes smothered the air. Frightened women and children huddled together in groups. These people were like animals, fighting over any little morsel of food available. Trucks hauled in large boxes filled with food and supplies, but order had given way to chaos, and it truly was the survival of the fittest.
Khale had always loved this world. She’d watched humanity take root and blossom over time, siphoning their notion of culture, religion, languages from what they’d learned from Ancients, some of whom, for a short time, were worshipped like gods. But as mankind developed and thrived, the influence of the Ancients diminished, and they were eventually, and mercifully, forgotten. Khale and her kind assimilated and blended in to avoid persecution by a race that fell in love with logic and out of love with legends.
She had, in essence, become one of them, and she had never regretted it. As Khale née Khale, the Forever and Ever, and the Great Shifter, she could adopt whatever form she chose and had experienced this world from a thousand different perspectives. Khale loved her life here, and her heart went out to these people.
So as not to frighten them anymore than they already were, she ducked behind a shed, transformed into a small bird, and flew outside the walls of this new kind of prison. She had a very important meeting to attend on the other side of these walls, and Khale did not want to be late for it.
* * *
Saint Simon’s Island, off the coast of Georgia, was barren now. The humans had all escaped inland and to the larger cities, hoping to get into sanctuaries. Without humans to feed on, the Brood found no use for places like this.
Khale stood staring out at the ocean rummaging through all of the regrets she had had since even before her world had fallen. Of all of them, Sakarabru had been her first mistake, and the one with the most lasting consequences.
“Am I the last to make love to you, Khale?” he asked, appearing behind her.
Her knees grew weak at the sound of his voice, and Khale silently cursed herself for the effect that he still had on her. She closed her eyes, and without thinking, shifted into a height more compatible with his. Khale slowly turned to Sakarabru and gazed into the depths of his emerald-colored eyes.
Sakarabru’s charm for Khale began with his beauty. On Theia, when they were much, much younger, his hair had been a dark contrast to the rich color of his eyes. Time had changed it to white, which made him even more breathtaking.
He reached down and carefully took her hand in his. In the mind of that young and naive and careless Shifter, this was the Sakarabru that she loved, then and now. Her heart fluttered at his touch.
He raised her hand and studied it intently and then he laughed.
Khale noticeably tensed.
“Forgive me, Beloved,” he said, stroking the back of her hand. “It’s just that, I can’t help but to find it amusing that you would lessen your own beauty to suit what is acceptable to the humans.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Such a waste,” he said, gazing into her eyes.
Khale had taken a huge risk coming here. She was literally taking her own life into her hands by agreeing to meet with him. Sakarabru was not back to the fullness of his strength, but the influence of who and what he was was as strong as it had ever been.
“Know thy enemy,” she murmured, removing her hand from his. “You are still my enemy, Sakarabru.”
The flirtatious spark in his eyes faded quickly. “I am most definitely your enemy, Shifter.”
“Why’d you ask to see me?” she asked coolly.
“Why did you agree to come?” he challenged.
This time, it was her turn to be coy. “Because my ego is just as big as yours, Demon,” she said, stepping away from him. “But let’s just say that I was curious to see what I am really up against after four thousand years.”
“Look around you, Ancient,” he said casually. “I am well rested and I am ready to rule again. It is in my—”
“I know,” she said irritably. “It’s in your nature. You always say that as if it’s all the excuse you need to inflict death and destruction on nations.”
“Well, if those nations would just cooperate, maybe the transition to being under my rule wouldn’t have to be so destructive.”
“These people were not your enemy, Sakarabru. You didn’t have to do this to them!”
“I needed an army, Ancient, by any means necessary.”
“An army against—us?”
“If by the word ‘us’ you mean Ancients, then yes.”
Did he believe that there were more Ancients than there actually were? Had Sakarabru set out to build this massive Brood Army to combat an army he believed Khale led?
“You mean to destroy us all,” she said somberly.
His expression changed, softened, and for a moment he looked sincere. “You’ve always forced my hand, Shifter,” he explained. “Your destruction was never what I wanted, but it’s always been what you’ve insisted on, pitting that army of yours between you and me.” He shook his head disapprovingly. “But I still believe that I could love you like no other, Shifter.”
Sakarabru had sprung up on Theia like a lush tree in the desert. He had just appeared one day, radiant and intoxicating. Khale was young and curious and mesmerized by him. She’d given herself to him completely. She’d loved him and would’ve done anything to spend eternity with him.
“I remember Kahah,” she said introspectively. She didn’t have to raise her voice for him to hear her. “They believed that they could be safe in the valley hidden in their caves.” She watched his expression harden as she recalled this story. “I can still hear their screams. Their cries still echo in my head.”
“Khale! Help us, Khale! Save us!”
But she and her army arrived too late. Sakarabru’s Brood swept through that valley like a
cyclone, wiping out an entire race.
“They were farmers, Sakarabru,” she said bitterly. “They were helpless, and you killed them, squashed them like insects. There is no love in you, Sakarabru. There never was and there never will be.”
“You wound me, Khale.” He pressed one hand to his chest. “I left evidence of my love in your womb.”
She stiffened.
“And you made her my enemy,” he said callously. “Did Mkombozi ever know the truth?” He laughed. “I will admit all day long that I am a monster, Khale. But when will you admit that you are one as well?”
Angry tears fell from her eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she shot back.
“The depths of your deceptions are legendary, Ancient. At least to me. Play the victim if you must, Khale, but know this:” He stepped toward her. “You will not get away with using my own flesh and blood against me again. Your reborn—our daughter—will not see the second bond.”
“I already know that you’ve sent soldiers out to kill her, Sakarabru. They won’t get close enough to lay a finger on her!”
“Your forces are small, Khale. Your reborn is a human. If she survives all three bonds, she’ll still have me to contend with, and I promise you, Daddy will be prepared this time.”
The Demon walked out into the water, pressed both arms close to his body, and began to churn, creating a giant waterspout that spun out across the ocean until Khale could no longer see it.
Mkombozi had not known that Sakarabru was her father, and Eden would never know, either. But Khale knew. And he knew. It was the reason that Mkombozi and now Eden had been designated the Redeemer. Only the offspring of the Demon could bond with the Omens because they were made from the most powerful and dangerous elements of him and were already a part of her.
WAKE-UP CALL
Seer twins Ursa Minor and Ursa Major looked more like eight- or nine-year-old children than Ancient Seers. They squealed and jumped up and down with delight when they saw Runyon dumping out bags of chocolate and red licorice and unloading bottles of rum all over the kitchen table. He laughed at their enthusiasm as they both grabbed handfuls of candy and alcohol, ran circles around him, and collapsed on the floor at his feet.
This place looked like something out of a storybook. A warm, inviting fire burned in the fireplace. Pretty wallpaper with yellow flowers and pristine white-painted wainscoting decorated the walls, along with framed photographs of two girls, both with curly red hair tied with pink ribbons, bright blue eyes, and rose-colored cheeks, together, always smiling and indistinguishable.
Eden soon realized that those images were glamour images of the Troll Sisters, but in reality, they looked like trolls wearing blue ribbons in the thin and oily strands of dirty-blond hair.
“How are my girls doing?” Runyon asked enthusiastically, kneeling down next to them.
“What took you so long?” the one on the left asked.
“You said you were coming weeks ago. We’ve been waiting.”
“Forgive me,” he said, apologetically. “I lost track of time, but I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
The one on the left looked over his shoulder. “Who is he?” she asked, referring to Prophet standing in front of the door. Eden stood right next to him, but they only asked about him, which she found odd.
“He’s my best friend,” Jarrod responded sarcastically. “And she’s Eden.”
The two girls leaned in close and whispered, “We already know who she is.”
Prophet started to take a step toward the sisters before Runyon raised his hand to stop him. “How do you know her?” Prophet asked cautiously.
“She won’t tell you,” Runyon explained, standing up and walking over to him. “Neither of them will. Nobody knows which of them is the Heaven Seer and which is the Hell Seer, not even the other Seer sisters. And until now, nobody knew where they were but me.”
“Why you?” Prophet asked suspiciously.
“Because he brings us licorice and chocolate,” one of them said.
“And rum,” the other one added, grinning.
“The sisters are inseparable. They have to be. It’s all about balance with these two.”
“What do you mean?” Eden asked.
Runyon turned his attention to her. “Imagine knowing the secrets of the universe. Imagine knowing all the good all the time, and all the bad all the time. Too much of anything is a problem, and too much of anything extreme can be crippling. All they need is each other—and me showing up once a month with sweets and booze. They don’t leave the house, and no one else until now has ever come inside.”
“How do they know me, Jarrod?” Eden asked quietly. Part of her didn’t really want to know, but she couldn’t help being curious.
Jarrod just looked at her. Without saying a word, he’d spoken volumes.
Eden turned quickly and pushed open the screen door. “I need some air.” She was going to be sick.
Prophet followed her outside but stood on the porch and waited while she threw up in the bushes. A few minutes later, Eden came up for air and sat down on the bottom step to steady herself. It felt like the rest of the world was sitting still and she was the one spinning. He came and sat down next to her.
“This is insane,” Eden finally said, holding her head in her hands. “How can they know me? They see into heaven and hell, but whose heaven and whose hell? And correct me if I’m wrong, but wouldn’t you have to be dead to be in either one of those places?”
He shrugged. “Depends on who you ask.”
She looked at him. “What the hell does that even mean?”
“It means that you don’t know what it means. Are heaven and hell literal or figurative? Are they actual places or just someone’s idea of what either one of those places is? I don’t know,” he said irritably, responding to the look she was giving him. “I’m just speculating, Eden.”
He was trying to help, and Eden appreciated his efforts to try to minimize the gravity of this situation, but deep down she knew that this was one of those things he couldn’t protect her from. Prophet couldn’t follow her to wherever it was she’d probably have to go to get the second Omen. But it didn’t matter. She wasn’t so anxious or prepared to go after it anymore, either.
“Sakarabru has destroyed everything,” she said to Prophet. “It’s never going to be the same.”
“No it’s not, Eden. So, what are you really trying to say?”
She was about to ask him to take her far, far away from this place, when Khale appeared out of nowhere.
“She has to be dead,” Khale said gravely.
Neither of them saw the knife that she drove into Eden’s chest.
“Forgive me! Please! Forgive me, Eden!”
Eden heard the roar of the Guardian. She felt the warmth of her own blood soaking into the front of her clothes. She felt the blade of the knife driven into her chest, and she looked up at the stars and took her last breath.
* * *
Khale couldn’t transform fast enough. The Guardian barreled into her and drove her petite form hard into the ground on her back.
“It needed to be done!” Khale yelled, transforming into a silverback gorilla.
Prophet pounded her hard in the face several times before she growled and rolled him over onto his back. She locked her fingers together, raised her powerful arms over her head, and brought them down hard into his chest, knocking the wind out of him. Blood sprayed from the Guardian’s mouth.
“It needed to be done!” she yelled again.
“What the hell?” Jarrod slammed open the door.
“The second Omen is in the afterlife! She needed to die!” Khale shouted.
Prophet slammed a solid uppercut under her chin, forcing Khale to roll off of him.
Jarrod rushed down to Eden, lying on the steps with a knife sticking out of her chest.
“Guardian!” he yelled.
Prophet stopped and looked at Eden’s lifeless body in Jarrod’s arms.
“It needed to be done, Prophet,” Khale said desperately, as she began to shift back to Katie Smith. “It is the only way that it can happen.”
“This isn’t up to you,” he said, stumbling over to Eden and gathered her in his arms. “You have no fuckin’ right.”
“I have every right! Eden was born for this. Nobody else can do it, Tukufu. No one else can save this world.”
He didn’t want to hear it. Khale had caused all of this. She’d forced this so-called destiny on Mkombozi, and when Mkombozi was lost to it, she killed her, paving the way for Sakarabru to come back. She’d put this bullshit on Eden, leaving it up to her to clean up the shit Khale had created.
“Let’s get her inside,” Jarrod said solemnly.
Prophet picked her up and carefully carried her up the stairs and inside.
“You’re not welcome here, Khale,” Jarrod said as he turned to her.
“You can’t keep me out of this, Were,” she said defiantly.
“Between me and the Guardian, we can give you a run for your money, Khale. If you walk through this door, we’ll kill you.”
Khale stood frozen, shocked by what she’d just done. But she knew—she knew the moment Jarrod revealed his secret about the twin seers that Eden had to die to make the bond. There was no other way.
“She has to bond,” she murmured anxiously. “She has to bond and she has to live.”
But what if Khale had sealed their fate? What if Eden couldn’t recover from this?
NOW I’M ON MY KNEES
Eden’s body gave in to its natural instinct to inhale, but there was no air in this place. Panic set it.
Khale. Khale had … Eden reached for her chest—the knife. It was gone, but … She staggered to her feet and stretched her eyes open wide to see.… She opened her mouth and desperately tried to breathe.
Nothing. Eden turned slowly, looking all around her to try to figure out where she was, but there was nothing. Flat, muted, airless, and soundless. She couldn’t even hear herself gasping for air or starting to cry. Eden wrapped her arms tightly around herself and realized that she was naked, but what difference did it make? It was a revelation that meant nothing.
