Though maybe instead of paying attention to the spell or my phone, I should have been more mindful of my surroundings. I didn’t notice the shadow that fell across me, blocking out the moonlight. Nor did I notice that the temperature on the roof dropped several degrees. It wasn’t until I felt the sting of fangs jabbing into the side of my neck that I realized I wasn’t alone.
Out of instinct, and because my knife was just out of reach, I tucked my head and did a crouching roll. The intent was to dislodge the vamp from my neck with minimal danger of bleeding to death. This would also give me the edge as I would have the vampire on its back.
Or it would have, at least, if I had taken two seconds to remember where I was. I tucked my head, using my body’s forward momentum to buck the vampire up and over my head. That part worked and the vampire came away clean, however, instead of landing on his back, vulnerable to an attack, he continued forward, over the side of the Lou Zephyr, twisting midair into an incorporeal mist to avoid being splattered on the pavement below.
I, however, had no such shapeshifting abilities. By the time I realized I was falling, it was too late to do much of anything but scream.
* * *
Donna stood in a forest glade and looked around. This was not the glade behind the house where the Rosewood coven performed their seasonal rites, nor was it the clearing behind her mother’s home where just hours before, she confronted her father. No, this was no muddy mess of dead leaves and pinecones. This glade was green, lush, verdant, almost sparkling in its supernaturally soft-focused impossibility.
Donna stood straighter and held her head high as soon as she recognized that her surroundings were not of the living world. She had been summoned by the Goddess, the great Earth Mother herself. But instead of the powerful and awe-inspiring Earthly image of the Goddess, Donna’s eyes found a very different, yet no less awe-inspiring portrait of beauty.
Lounging against a moss-covered oak with the kind of practiced casualness only found in advertisements for expensive fragrances, was a seven foot masterpiece of biceps, abs, flaxen hair, sparkling white teeth, and eyes of a color most often found on Caribbean vacation posters. For some reason, Donna did not mind at all having her hopes of being summoned by the Goddess dashed. But just as quickly, her spirits fell with the realization that the dream-like glade and god-like hunk could only mean one thing.
“Great! I fell asleep on the job.”
She began muttering the incantation that would wake her to full alertness, but before she had the third word out, the hunk moved with the grace of a cat, sweeping her up as he placed a shushing finger over her lips.
“I am afraid there is no waking from this sleep, my dear, however, might I suggest we take our time with the registration process. After all, we have the rest of forever to handle the administrative nonsense.”
His voice was a deep rumble with just the slightest hint of a Scandinavian accent that she felt as much as heard. Had the giant not been holding her up, Donna was certain she would have fallen into a very real swoon.
“Administration?”
Rather than answer he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, but Donna’s frown remained firmly in place.
“Right then,” he said with a wink as he carefully set Donna back on her feet. “Let’s try a different tactic. Hello there.” He held out his hand, as if they were being casually introduced by a mutual acquaintance at a cocktail party. “I’m Sven, Order’s version of the grim reaper.”
“Grim…” Donna blinked. Her hand fell limp from Sven’s grasp. It was then that she noticed a small tattoo of a scythe, worn like a badge over his left pectoral. “I’m… dead?”
“You fell from a thirteen story building.”
“I did?”
Donna’s mind was muddled. She had a very vague idea that she’d been up on the Lou Zephyr, but she could not for the life of her remember why.
“But I’ve survived worse falls,” she argued. “I’m only vulnerable while I’m in the air.”
“You were attacked by a vampire,” Sven prompted. His gleaming smile and bedroom eyes were at odds with his declaration. “Your energy was already depleted by the shielding spell. The blood loss didn’t help and you lost consciousness before hitting the ground.”
Donna screwed up her face and thought about the last thing she remembered. Slowly, her memories of the last moments came back to her and she winced. Not so much because of the horrifying thought of death as much as the realization that it truly was a single stupid mistake on her part.
“Ouch! Yeah, I guess there’s no way I could have survived that.”
Surprisingly, she felt rather calm about the whole thing. About being dead at least. A different matter, a rather human matter that was thrown into stark relief by Sven’s physique shattered her calm and Donna hung her head.
“Of all the worst rotten luck in all the world!” she groaned and beat her fist against a nearby tree trunk. “Are you trying to tell me that not even a few hours after I finally get this stupid curse lifted, I just freaking died? How is that fair? I should have at least had a moment to-”
Donna’s words were cut off as Sven caught up and spun her around to face him. Once again he silenced her with a finger to the lips and Donna was tempted to pantomime lascivious acts on the offending digit.
“Living or dead, the curse was indeed lifted, if you get my drift.”
Donna would have had to be immensely thick not to get Sven’s drift. Especially since said drift was pressing into her thigh.
“Well then,” she said with a predatory smile. “I guess being dead isn’t all bad. What exactly did you have in mind?”
Sven led her to a particularly soft bed of moss, surrounded by vine-draped trees that glittered with dew in the bright sunlight. That the setting was positively magical made up for the fact that she had died. Yet despite the perfect setting and the even more perfect and willing partner, something nagged at Donna’s mind. Bits and pieces of her pre-death revelation came back to her and she sat up.
“I have a feeling there’s something I’m supposed to be doing.”
“Um, I’m right here,” Sven said with a wink.
“No, I mean, some sort of higher purpose. Just before I died, I had this…”
“Epiphany?” Sven asked with a disarming smile. “Yes, your death and the awakening of the knowledge within you were timed fortuitously. However, my sweet, we are currently outside of time. We can stay here as long as you’d like. Not a single moment has passed in the Cycle. As I said, there is plenty of time for the tedium of administration later.”
“Well, since you put it like that…”
“Ahem!”
Donna sat up with a gasp as a shadow fell across the glade. An older man in a rumpled suit stood leaning against a tree with his arms folded, deliberately looking everywhere except at the tangle of limbs on the ground before him. He wore a battered fedora and for the briefest of moments, Donna mistook him for Bogie, but the more she stared, the more he looked like the author on the back of the trashy old detective novels her mother used to read.
“This had better be an emergency, Pete,” Sven growled as he got to his feet.
“The boss seems to think so,” Pete said, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.
“And you couldn’t wait a little longer?”
“It’s none of my business what you do during orientation,” Pete shrugged, puffing out another cloud of smoke. “But it ain’t me who’s impatient. In fact, I’m not processing this one at all.”
“Then why should it matter how much time we spend on orientation?” Sven asked, clearly feeling superior to the shorter, balder, and in no way at all attractive man.
“Just because I ain’t processing her don’t mean she’s a permanent resident. The big C itself is handling this one.”
“The big what?” Donna asked, but no one answered. Instead, Sven’s jaw dropped to the floor and Pete shook his head at him.
“But that means…”
<
br /> “What that means is inconsequential, Sven.”
Donna jumped and her cheeks flared to a deep shade of crimson when she noticed the tall, broad shouldered Amazonian woman draped in gauzy robes who stood just inside the tree line. Surely she couldn’t be… then again, Donna reminded herself that she was dead. This woman could very easily and very likely be exactly who she thought she was. Immediately, she fell to her knees and bowed her head.
“Gaia, mother of Earth, how may I serve you?”
The woman chuckled. It was at once a light and melodious noise, yet there was a deep richness that not even Sven’s deep baritone could match.
“Dearest Donna. I am aware of the burden you carried in life. I understand that Sven here has done his best to distract you, but don’t allow your Earthly trappings to hamper that which you discovered to be true only moments before your passing. Look into yourself. You know this façade is nothing more.”
The woman reached out and placed her hand on Donna’s head and suddenly the fog was lifted. In a rush, all of the knowledge of the Cycle came back to the forefront of her mind,
“The Creator! So the truth is that you are the Goddess, but also the God.”
“And so much more, though I must admit, I’ve always been fond of this manifestation,” it said, noting its incredible height and regal appearance. “Why Sven, do I not look like one of your countrymen?”
“A bit like my own mother, if I am being honest, Creator,” Sven admitted, pulling yet another bit of vine from where it had tangled in his hair. The action was not lost on the Creator, who gave him a pointed look.
“Thank you very much for accompanying Donna through the transition, but I shall take it from here. Though we are outside of time, I need not remind you, Sven, you are still on the clock.”
“I understand, Creator,” he said, bowing his head briefly in submission before turning to Donna with a wink. “I do intend to see you again, Donna. Of that you may be sure.”
In the blink of an eye, both he and Pete were gone, leaving Donna alone with the Creator.
“Madonna Rose, thirteenth daughter born of harmonious discord. Do you realize how very special you are?”
“Me?” Donna snorted. “I wouldn’t exactly call being cursed special, but hey, whatever floats… er…” she cut off quickly, realizing too late that she just sassed the supreme deity of all creation. But instead of the wrath of a thousand curses falling upon her head, Donna heard only the tinkling of laughter as the Creator shook its head.
“Ah, Donna. You’ll soon learn that there is nothing, snark, sass, or otherwise, that I’ve not heard countless times before. I do imagine you’re still in something of a state of shock. As such, all is forgiven. However, I do need you to pay attention because yes, child, you are most assuredly unique.”
“Me?”
“Indeed.” The Creator nodded
“Uh, exactly how unique?”
“A special snowflake, the chosen one, perhaps even…” The Creator paused for dramatic effect. “…the dreaded Mary Sue. As such, the rules as we know them do not apply. You will be…”
“Wait a minute.” Despite her attempt to remain respectful in the presence of the Creator, Donna burst into laughter. “If I’m truly the chosen one, the special snowflake, the most unique enigma in all the land, why are my eyes brown?”
The Creator chuckled at the reminder that its unpredictable creations could find and focus on the oddest details despite the enormity of the bigger picture.
“Statistics, my child. Brown eyes are just more common than most and truly, though you did rebel against your education, you are an intelligent woman, Donna. Surely you know that eyes of gold, violet, and other ephemeral colors only exist in fiction, yes?”
“Okay fine, but you know, I’m a redhead. Couldn’t I have at least gotten green eyes?”
“My divine recommendation would be to try cosmetic contact lenses. Now, understand that while we may be outside the Cycle and as such, time does not exist, we must still maintain a schedule lest we forget that we are an agency of Order. Are you ready to discover your destiny?”
“I suppose so,” Donna said, but the hesitation in her voice was not lost on the Creator.
“Your hesitation is to be expected,” it said with a kind smile. “Your discovery of the Discordant Truth, quite frankly, was not.”
“The Discordant Truth?” Donna furrowed her brow, remembering all that she’d pondered just moments before her death. “You mean that Order is a creation of Chaos?”
“Indeed,” the Creator smiled, but Donna frowned in reply.
“But that’s common knowledge. Most religions cite the beginning as chaotic void. Even science claims that form came from void.”
“Yes, that is the fascinating aspect of the minds of my creations,” the Creator said with a chuckle. “From nothing came everything. So simple, yet to dwell upon this truth brings madness to all who dwell too long. So then, creation is split into warring factions. Good versus evil. Chaos versus Order. These are concepts that while absolute, leave enough room for question that the mind is occupied and the madness is abated. New Truths are created as old Truths are debunked, but always there is balance.”
Donna pondered the Creators words, surprised to discover that she understood exactly what it meant. As a human, well, a half-human Nyx, the Ultimate Truth had all but torn her mind apart. But now, unencumbered by the Earthly restraints of Order, Donna could see the truth for what it was. More so, she could see things that would have been impossible to fathom with a mortal mind.
“So, the Discordant,” she said, letting out her breath in a long and audible huff. “Their passage into our realm is both necessary and something we need to prevent at all costs.”
The Creator beamed like a proud parent.
“Well done, Donna! I daresay, were it not for the fact that I have to send you back into the Cycle, I’d establish you as my replacement and take a nice long vacation in Tahiti. I may yet, but first, we have a war to win.”
“Wait,” Donna cleared her mind of the daydreams of what she would do if she was named Creator and focused on what it was the Creator hadn’t said. “You’re sending me back… to Blackbird?”
“As I said, the usual rules do not apply to you, Donna. No one saw you die. Well, I did receive a report that Desmond saw you fall, but that is all. Your body has not been discovered and those who knew you casually are so entrenched in the Cycle that they will never notice a difference. As far as all are concerned, you will remain Madonna Rose, bartender and eventual proprietor of the Five Penny Pub.”
“Proprietor, huh? I would have thought if Desmond wanted to sell, Bogie would get first dibs.” She again fell into a daydream state, suppressing a giggle at the thought of bossing the demon around.
“The Guardian has traditionally held the title of bar owner as a measure of convenience and the Five Penny has been in your family before.”
“I knew they were hiding something!” Donna gasped as the blocked memories of Abbey Rose, Blackbird’s former guardian and Donna’s great grandmother many times over, came flooding back. It was both amazing and mind-boggling that someone who had played such an important role in her life could be erased from her memories as easily as a casual acquaintance. Still that wasn’t all that was strange about the Creator’s declaration. “Wait… When you said the Guardian…”
“Your return to Blackbird is significant, Donna. You are the chosen one. You will have a significant role to play if we are to hold any hope for restoring Order.”
“But…” This time not even the enlightenment of death could shed light on the Creator’s declaration. “If I’m to be the Guardian, won’t that throw our balance off further? Instead of one mystic short, we’d be two down and the power of the coven, the power of three, would be lost. And what of…” Donna shut her mouth, unable to voice her final concern. If she was to become Blackbird’s new Guardian that would mean the current Guardians would no longer hold that position and
Donna was not ready to consider what that meant for the two teens.
“Have faith in yourself, Donna,” the Creator said, its expression conveying no hint of what was to come. “All that will come to pass will do so for the greater good of all involved. Take solace in the knowledge that your passing not only brought no pain to those you love, but will be instrumental in ushering in a new era. Do not dwell on unpleasantries that have yet to come to pass. Now,” it said with a look that conveyed the serious gravity of the situation. “Are you ready to change the world?”
Chapter 7
The Gift
Of all the times to grow a conscience, facing down an angry mob that consisted of my least favorite humans was probably the most inconvenient ever. Killing off Emma and her gang would definitely get me into trouble, but it would have been so easy to rationalize under the circumstances. Even if an official trial was called, there wasn’t much anyone could hold against me since technically, I would be saving their lives.
If they were just lost, that would be one thing, but these jerk-wads weren’t just regular lost. They were all under the influence of a dragon, which means they were all just one step away from damning their own souls to enslavement by Chaos. The way I saw it, killing them would be the only humane way to ensure that their souls cycled, preferably straight into a hellish afterlife. Besides, even if any of them were still in enough control of their own emotions to listen to a Guardian, it sure as hell wasn’t going to be me.
But I couldn’t do it.
Even with the odds stacked so far in my favor it was like the universe wanted me to have my revenge, I was hesitant to kill. For some stupid reason, I felt sorry for them. They might have been bullies, they sure as hell weren’t going to thank me for saving their freakin’ lives, and not a single one of them would have hesitated to kill me if roles were reversed, but they didn’t deserve to die and they didn’t deserve to lose their souls to Chaos.
Rise of the Discordant: The Complete Five Book Series Page 76
