Smoke, Vampires, and Mirrors

by Dima Zales

  A shining plasma gate opens in the middle of the street.

  It looks like the gates at the hubs, only smaller and fainter.

  “Some of Tartarus’s children are teleporters powerful enough to open temporary gates,” Jaylen’s disembodied voice explains when someone gasps. “These gates will only exist for an hour and a half—but that is more than enough time for these villains to suck the world dry.”

  As he speaks, a stream of people rushes out of the gate, all looking like someone Jaylen reveres and loves, to varying degrees.

  The humans on the street stare at them in awe. Some fall down on their knees, while others just stand there, as if frozen. They must be seeing angels or their own long-dead relatives.

  Tartarus’s children slowly spread out from the gate, then extend their hands as if in prayer.

  Arcs of energy jump into their hands from the humans nearest to them.

  Before anyone can so much as blink, the humans turn into the mummified husks that now cover this world.

  Despite being far away, Jaylen starts to feel his life force being drained as well—but not as quickly.

  “I apologize, but I don’t want to relive the next part in detail,” his voice says as the world around us momentarily goes black. “Let me just say that those monsters will methodically seek out every living being. The humans they will suck dry right away, but the Cognizant they will separate into food and breeding stock. The latter will be used to make children with useful powers for their father. Out of my whole family, I was the only survivor.”

  Though I can’t see Jaylen, the darkness around us grows heavy with his pain.

  “The next parts are my extrapolation, rather than a factual account of events,” he says in an unsteady voice as he shows us a room covered with TV monitors.

  It’s like a surveillance room in a bank, only big enough to cover dozens of locations all over the globe.

  On each screen plays out a similar scene.

  Somewhere in the world, a gate opens, Tartarus’s children run out of it, and destruction ensues.

  On one screen, this is happening in the desert. On another, on an island in the ocean. Most, however, show cities.

  On one larger screen, Tartarus walks through what looks like a TV studio and is soon joined by a dozen or so of his children. He and his posse suck dry every person who crosses their path, leaving husks in their wake.

  A teleporter woman appears, blocking Tartarus’s path—and she brought a regal-looking man with her.

  “That’s two of the most powerful Councilors we had,” Jaylen explains. “I later shared a cell with them in the breeding pits. If anyone had a chance to defeat Tartarus, it would’ve been them.”

  Tartarus looks the newcomers over and focuses on the woman, pointing his arms at her just as his children attack the noble-looking dude.

  A purplish energy flows from the woman into Tartarus. She screams in pain and starts to visibly shrivel, as if aging at a rapid pace. Draining her of energy seems to be a slower process than with humans, but that just extends her agony.

  In the meanwhile, the regal-looking guy turns into a werewolf even bigger than Obo, and starts ripping Tartarus’s children into pieces as they attempt to drain him of energy.

  They’re clearly not as skilled at sucking as their daddy.

  As the werewolf finishes with his last victim, the teleporter woman lets out a tormented shriek and poofs away.

  Wow. She just left her comrade to fend for himself. That’s not cool—and totally futile, since judging by what Jaylen said about the breeding pits, she gets caught later anyway.

  With the teleporter gone, Tartarus points both hands at the werewolf and orange energy starts to flow to him.

  The werewolf’s ears drop, his tail slinking between his legs as he starts to howl, his furry body turning increasingly raisin-like.

  Without letting up on the energy-sucking, Tartarus approaches him and knocks him out with a single punch to the snout.

  On that optimistic note, Jaylen’s illusion is over.

  I’m back in the meadow, surrounded by greenery and all the Councilors—who now look quite grim.

  Like me, they’re not looking forward to the upcoming fight.

  Unlike them, I know Tartarus is someone I’ll have to face.

  It’s apparently my destiny.

  If I wasn’t sure about my prospects before, I’m even less confident now. For starters, I didn’t think Tartarus would have so much backup. “Defeating him” always meant killing just one very powerful guy, not a whole army of his grown children. But now it looks like he’s just a piece of the puzzle. He will arrive, go on TV, and unleash his spawn on everyone—a chain of events much harder to deal with.

  I guess we need a bigger plan. A plan that will include killing all of his hellish spawn.

  As I’m pondering this, Lizzy, the local teleporter, shows up next to the TV setup.

  Her eyes are wide and she’s paler than some of the vampires present.

  “Turn on the TV,” she says to Sparkles hollowly. “You have to see this.”

  Sparkles grabs the cables, bringing the TV to life.

  Her hands trembling, Lizzy tunes in to a channel.

  My heartbeat skyrockets as I wait for the image to appear.

  If this is what I think this is, all my efforts have been for nothing.

  If Tartarus is already here, making his speech on TV, this world—and I along with it—is doomed.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The image shows up, and I realize the world isn’t doomed.

  I am, though.

  The screen is showing Lilith. She’s floating a few feet above the ground, the way I’ve learned to do.

  “My name is Lilith. The one who revealed herself to you earlier is my daughter, Sasha,” my mother says into the camera, and the Cognizant around me turn from the screen to stare at me, their expressions darkening.

  “I am a goddess of blood and luck,” Lilith goes on. “And I will prove this for your viewing pleasure.”

  Her eyes turn mirror-like, and she casts her gaze onto the people in the first row of the studio audience.

  Having gotten their attention, she says, “Come. I will drink your blood.”

  The spectators begin to get up, one by one, and walk onto the stage.

  When the first man gets there, Lilith makes him kneel and pray to her. Then she drinks him for the longest ten seconds in TV history.

  The rest of the audience screams and attempts to flee.

  Undaunted by the humans’ reactions, Lilith drinks from the rest of the glamoured people before she does that remote feeding trick she performed on the chorts, where a small stream of blood goes from every single member of the audience into Lilith’s greedy mouth.

  Everyone around me—even the vampires—gape at the TV with horrified expressions.

  I guess they didn’t realize this last trick was even possible.

  On my end, I can’t help but wonder if this was what Lilith meant in her handwritten note when she said she’d “get something to eat.”

  Talk about major understatements.

  Of course, what Lilith is actually doing is growing her power in the exact same way I did. She must’ve gotten jealous of my TV coverage and decided to get some of her own.

  Before I can process this any further, Sparkles drops the TV cable and turns to me with lightning dancing on his palms. “You were stalling us with your tales of Tartarus so she could be free to do that,” he grits out. “Now you’re dead.”

  Guns and weaponized fingers fly up to point at me again.

  Damn.

  I knew Lilith could be the end of me, but I didn’t think it would happen in such a roundabout way.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  A familiar roar rings out from above the treetops—one that sounds like it has human words in it. In the most blood-chilling way possible, it seems to say, “Touch her and die!”

  In case it wasn’t obvious what kind of creatu
re the roaring belongs to, a big dragon swoops out of the sky and knocks down five IKEA stores’ worth of tree branches on everyone’s heads.

  The Councilors freeze in their tracks.

  The dragon lands, shines with magic, and turns into a mouth-wateringly naked Nero with his hands still claw-like and his limbal rings out of control.

  My heart jumps, and I realize how overjoyed I am to see him—and not just because he stopped me from becoming mincemeat. It may have something to do with that hard-yet-kissable mouth, perfect abs, chiseled pecs, and don’t even get me started on what’s going on below the waist.

  Yeah, I’ve really missed my bossy Mentor—and I never thought I’d say that.

  “Put down your weapons, now,” Nero growls menacingly, bringing me out of my horny reverie. “Your real enemy is Tartarus—just as Sasha has already explained to you.”

  Shell-shocked, they do as he says.

  “You’re him,” Roslin says, her lapis eyes roaming over Nero’s body with such avid interest that I get the urge to smack her. I resist, though, because she’s been pretty nice to me so far. “You gave your power to the stones in exchange for an earthquake from me,” she continues. “Do you remember?”

  Nero looks at her, his limbal rings shrinking.

  “Yes.” He walks up to me, takes off the used-up jewelry from my neck, and strikes it with an arc of light that recharges it instantly. Handing the necklace to Roslin, he says, “We’re wasting valuable time. Just vote on whether to trust us so we can either help you or leave.”

  He says it in such a way that it sounds like he strongly prefers the latter.

  Sparkles pushes out his chest. “You don’t tell us what to do. And who says she’d be able to leave?”

  Nero shakes his head in annoyance, then blurs into motion and strikes with his claws before anyone can let out a peep.

  I half-expect Sparkles to rain on us in pieces, but Nero is clearly in a merciful mood today.

  His claws just severed Sparkles’s beard at around the chin level, giving the atrocious growth a trim.

  In the time it takes the pube-like remnants of the beard to hit the grass, Nero blurs back to my side.

  “Anyone else want to threaten Sasha?” he asks harshly.

  “No, no. We’re ready to vote.” Roslin gives the still-recovering Sparkles a narrowed-eyed stare.

  Not surprisingly, they vote to trust us.

  “Your audience,” Nero says to me, a slight smile touching his eyes.

  “How did you even get here?” I whisper. “How did you know where I’d be?”

  “Bailey told me about your conversation, so that’s how I knew the path to this world, and Rasputin foresaw you dragging an Enforcer werewolf to this very distinct-looking island,” he explains quietly. “We can talk about this later, though. You have a family matter to resolve first.”

  “Right.” I face the crowd. “That woman on TV is indeed my mother. She is insane, maybe criminally so, but I think she can be of help. She’s very powerful, and she hates Tartarus.” I take a breath and look around. “I have an idea of what we should do next, but I need you all to keep an open mind. As I started to tell you earlier, it has to do with your Heralds and Councilors going on TV and revealing your powers.”

  I stop to let that sink in.

  Sparkles glares at me. “That’s a terrible idea. Say this Tartarus of yours comes, and we defeat him. If we reveal our existence to the humans, they will get rid of us—or make us get rid of them.”

  “Not necessarily,” I say. “Not if this is handled in the way I have in mind. If implemented carefully, my idea should allow the Cognizant to coexist with humans after Tartarus is gone.”

  Everyone except Nero looks curious.

  Did Rasputin already tell him how this will go? If he did, it’s not fair. I wanted Nero to bow and say how clever he thinks I am.

  “Sounds too good to be true,” Sparkles says.

  “Maybe,” I say. “But I think this would undo some of the damage Lilith and I have caused—and hinder Tartarus’s power grab if he manages to get on TV as per Jaylen’s memory.”

  “She’s right,” Roslin says. “Humans are already wondering things we don’t want them to wonder. If we battle Tartarus’s spawn on the streets, they will know even more.”

  “Exactly,” I say. “But we’re going to give humans a framework that will make sense to them. It will be a deception of unparalleled scope—but luckily for you, I happen to be a master magician.”

  “Stop building it up and tell them already,” Nero says impatiently. “Lilith needs to be stopped.”

  “It’s simple,” I say triumphantly. “We will pretend to be superheroes.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “What?” Sparkles attempts to tug on his beard, but finds most of it gone.

  “Super. Heroes,” I enunciate. “Like Superman. Do you have that comic book or movie here?” I look at Obo, who vigorously nods.

  Sparkles frowns. “I don’t understand.”

  “We’ll say we’re superheroes, and then prove it on TV,” I say. “We’ll also paint Tartarus as a supervillain. This way, we can fight him in the open, and the humans will even help.”

  Most Councilors still look dubious.

  They might be thinking back to their comic book lore and remembering stories like X-Men, where the specials and the humans aren’t exactly getting along as peacefully as they should.

  Note to self: make sure not to call us “mutants” or “more evolved,” as that’s bad PR.

  “It’s pure hubris,” Sparkles says.

  “Oh, really? Then what do you suggest?” I ask him.

  “We can glamour the humans,” Sparkles says uncertainly.

  “Using glamour on billions will be pretty much impossible,” a vampire Councilor says. “There’s not enough of my kind to make that happen in a dozen lifetimes.”

  Jaylen clears his throat. “Our ancestors called themselves gods. That’s what Tartarus and that TV woman do. Maybe we do the same?”

  “I considered that,” I say. “But your world seems too modern for that, and at the end of the day, there isn’t a huge difference between something like pagan gods and the superheroes in comic books. On Earth, there’s a superhero named Thor, who was a god of thunder in mythology.” I look at Sparkles meaningfully, as his kind might’ve been the inspiration for that specific myth. “The key difference is that people think of superheroes as good guys who are looking after their interests. Gods, on the other hand, can be seen as selfish and self-serving—not the best PR.”

  Sparkles—and many others—still look uncertain.

  “Time is of the essence,” Nero reminds everyone. “If this is too high of a price to pay for preserving your lives, Sasha and I will be happy to leave. Keep in mind, though, once she’s gone, you won’t find anyone to sell this lie to humans as well as she can.”

  Is Nero bluffing about leaving?

  If so, he’s good.

  I totally buy it—and I’m very good at reading those sorts of cues.

  “I say we vote again,” Roslin says.

  “I agree, but just remember that this will change our society forever,” Sparkles says pompously.

  “And that there will actually be a society to experience the changes,” I retort.

  “Those for Sasha’s plan, raise your hands,” Roslin says, her arm shooting into the air.

  Almost all the hands in the meadow go up, though some, like Sparkles, raise them reluctantly.

  “That settles it,” Roslin says. “Looks like we’re going to have to trust Sasha to make us into superheroes.”

  I suppress a satisfied grin.

  This will be my best deception ever. An illusion so amazing that no magician, even one as great as Houdini, would ever dream of performing it.

  I look at Lizzy and say, “Can you take me and Nero to that studio?” Glancing at some of the teleporters, I add, “Can you also bring along the most powerful Councilors and Heralds, especially th
e ones with the showiest powers?”

  Lizzy walks over to me and Nero, and grabs our shoulders. As we’re about to poof away, I belatedly hope she isn’t against my superhero idea to a treacherous and self-sacrificing degree. After all, she could teleport with us into the middle of a volcano. Or the bottom of the ocean.

  Before that thought can bloom into full-fledged anxiety, we teleport—and as we appear in the new place, I look around in horror.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  We’re in the TV studio. However, since we took our sweet time on the Council’s island, Lilith fed on most of the remaining audience—some in very creative and disturbing ways.

  Oh, and the cameras are still rolling.

  She must’ve used glamour on the camera dudes because any regular semi-sane person would’ve escaped long ago.

  “Mother, hear me!” I scream as pompously as I can, and float up, getting into the range of the camera.

  Lilith looks at me first, then spots Nero and the other Councilors who are popping in. Angrily baring her fangs, she clutches the hilt of the gate sword at her hip.

  “We come in peace,” I say quickly. “I represent the heroes of The Defenders’ League. A great threat is coming to this world, and we decided it’s time for us to team up.”

  Lilith cocks her head as I float closer to her.

  Making sure the camera is at my back, I lower my voice so only someone with vampire hearing would hear my next words. “I learned more about Tartarus—and the only way we can win is if the Cognizant of this world, as well as the ones from Earth, help us with the task. I have a plan, but I need you to play along. We’re going to villainize Tartarus and tell the humans we’re superheroes whose goal is to stop him. Say something grand, along the lines of wanting to put aside our differences, then turn off the cameras so we can talk.”

  I’ve got to hand it to Lilith’s decisiveness and quick thinking. Almost instantly, she looks at me with kindness and love on her face—something I didn’t think her facial muscles were capable of. Spreading her arms as if to embrace me, she says, “My daughter. Tartarus—that villain—put me under a spell that caused me to hurt all these poor innocent people.” She gestures at her recent snacks. “As soon as I heard you speak, the mother’s love conquered the foul magic. I’m back!”