by D. Fischer
Jaemes takes a step back, his eyes wide as my body glows bright, a star. “Stop!” he yells to the room.
My back bows, a yank to my sternum, and a frigid chill sparks every new and old nerve, working its way from my face to my fingertips, to my very soul.
“To replace a Fee, only the finest are chosen,” Fate whispers in my ear, and I’m lifted into the air, wings draped until only the tips touch the marble.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
AIDEN VANDER
DEMON REALM
The last soul pulled from the void emerges, hands on the ledge as it hoists itself out of the puddle with maximum effort. Thousands roam the expanse with the rest of the army from the three realms, but they have no personality. Like each one has been purged of any choice.
However, as each one is created, the voices in my head from the void grow louder and multiply like their souls are being split. Their true humanity lying with mine while the scraps are inserted into the demons.
A four-fingered claw, coated with the black, hot goop I remember so well, rises through the flowing surface, followed by a hairless head adorning two thick horns and pointed ears. The creature resembles a feline with a catlike nose and eyes. Its mouth, with fangs as long as a snake’s, opens wide, the liquid spilling inside as the newly formed demon gasps for breath. Its cheeks are protruding, boney, unlike the rest of its naked body.
Though the creature is short, it is also stocky. Its neck muscles are thick, growing straight into its shoulders, and each limb is roped with impossible muscle.
As the goop slides down fresh skin, the claw slaps against the solid ground, desperate for purchase. They’re monsters, all of them, very much unlike how I emerged. This is because Corbin is my father, his blood aiding me to remain more powerful. My earlier hypothesis is now confirmed.
“What are you calling these creatures, Corbin?” Sureen asks, watching the new demon emerge and perch his feet on the ground. Its tail is rat-like, but the end is tipped in the shape of an arrowhead, sleek and deadly.
“Gula,” Corbin mumbles, his eyes transfixed, watching his new creations lumber to group with the others.
“Gluttony?” Kheelan asks, translating the Latin.
Corbin inclines his head. “They’re flesh eaters, brother. Look at them.” He crosses his arms over his chest and smirks.
Though he isn’t talking to me, I turn my attention to the new demons, the gula, watching as a few feast on another, tearing flesh from fresh demons, exposing bones while they fight over the meat. They don’t make a sound, even the one being eaten. They’re faces remain unpinched, without agony, and their silence is more eerie than their appearance.
“They don’t feel,” I whisper.
“No,” Corbin responds, voice flat. “I’ve learned from my first creation.” I flex my jaw, irritated at the dig. He turns toward me, face emotionally dark and dangerous. “They will not feel, they will not disobey. I do not make the same mistake twice.”
I swallow. “Have you tried this before me?”
“I have,” he says. “When my wife was still alive, I drew her power when she fought a hoard of vampires in our home village. Though I did love her, it was a sacrifice I had to make.”
“For power?” I growl.
“For war,” he corrects.
“It was a careful plan before but too impulsive to properly achieve.” Sureen says. She steps closer and rests her hand on Corbin’s forearm. The gesture is sickly seductive, and her fingers create small circles on his shirt. “Are we ready?”
He flexes his jaw, nods, and together, all three move to the black pit once more. I frown, watching as, in unison, they bring their index finger and thumb to their chest, pinching the sternum. Their expressions remain blank as they slowly pull their hand away, a wisp of white fog wrenching from their torsos. My eyes widen when I recognize the fog – on the Death Realm, they called this creature, Kheelan’s creature, Reaper’s Breath.
“What are you doing?” I ask, demanding to have answers.
Distractedly, Corbin watches as his fog floats over the pool, hovering, awaiting orders as the other two join his. “A seed from three will resurrect a firstborn of her kind.”
“Of blood,” Kheelan mumbles.
“Of enemy,” Sureen whispers.
“Of love,” Corbin adds.
There is only one connected to all three. Only one who I know of that is the first of her kind. Myla.
At Corbin’s last word, the three fogs begin to spiral around one another like an hourglass of life. It lowers and emerges inside the pit. The black goop swirls like a vortex, once touched, and lifts into the air just as oleum does when it conjures a person for Corbin to gaze upon. It forms a cone, a tornado, electric bolts crackling inside, doom booming my ears and shaking the ground.
Whatever emerges will be enormous and unstoppable, based on the height it’s growing. It won’t be Myla – only her soul. Everything she once was will be gone just as the rest of the gula. Except…her conscience inside me, mixed with all the others.
My muscles tense, the sparkles along my black skin lighting, prepared, as a deafening roar ricochets from within the black tornado. Streams of fire shoot from the top, and Corbin claps his hands together, laughing hysterically.
The vortex lowers in one splash, revealing the creature within: A dragon, one like nothing I’ve ever seen. It matches that of the gula, gargoyle in make. Short, sharp spikes stick out over every inch of the dark grey dragon. Each feature it has is sharp and jagged, including the muscles. Wings like a tattered bat’s expand, casting deep shadows over the army.
The dragon sucks in a breath, deep and impossible, and the ribcage enlarges, billows of flames leaking out between the bones. In another roar, the breath is released along with a stream of fire to the sky which narrowly misses the angels soaring above.
“Here’s to the next phase in our plan!” Corbin yells over the noise, toasting his glee.
I look to Kheelan who shouts weakly in victory, pure pleasure on his sickly face. Why would Corbin weaken this ally after a display of trust and companionship like this? And then it hits me. He needed Kheelan and Sureen to help pull Myla from the void. But later, he’ll kill them. He won’t need them anymore. If he kills Kheelan, he’ll kill Eliza.
My breath freezes in my chest.
Eliza, my conscience screams.
I shimmer away before I become the enemy’s first target. First, I travel to the Earth Realm, going to several places and never staying more than a few seconds in hopes of them losing my trail if they happen to be following or tracking me. And then, I seek the woman of my heart. My duty is no longer on the Demon Realm. They know I’m there to spy anyway. My time will be better spent protecting the woman I love, surrounded by guardians to help us through this perilous situation we now have.
Thank you for reading Rift (Rise of the Realms: Book Three). Please take a moment and leave a review. I’d love to read your thoughts. Book Four will be available soon (2019), so please follow me on Amazon, or travel to my website at dfischerauthor.com to receive updates. I won’t leave you hanging long on what happens next.
ALSO BY D. FISCHER
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| RISE OF THE REALMS SERIES |
| NIGHT OF TERROR SERIES |
| GRIM FAIRYTALES |
| OTHER |
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
D. Fischer is a mother of two busy boys, a wife to a wonderful and supportive husband, and an owner of two hyper, sock-loving dogs. Together, they live in a quiet little corner of a state that’s located in the middle of the great USA.
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