Time stopped. Nothing mattered anymore. What I’d done to Tish was unacceptable. Unforgivable.
I hope I die quickly.
The demon loomed above me, her shadow twisted and bent. I couldn’t fight anymore. I didn’t want to. The only thought I screamed repeatedly inside my mind . . .
I killed my best friend.
Then I screamed in agony as something sharp and incredibly cold stabbed into the tender area between my shoulder blades. My upper body contorted as the elongated nail in my back forced me to sit up.
“Just get it over with.” I spat the words through gritted teeth, unable to inhale with the demon’s nail piercing my back.
“No, my pet. This guilt you feel—it is delicious, sweet agony. You want to suffer, yes?”
“I want you to kill me.” I inhaled quickly and wished I hadn’t. The rotten-egg smell emanating from the demon made me retch.
“No. Too easy. You take my place, I think.”
I closed my eyes. “Send me wherever you want. I have no life after what I’ve done.”
The nail twisted and another trail of fiery pain shot through my body. From a distance, I heard the demon mumbling in strange, guttural sounds. Latin, maybe? Some of the words seemed familiar as I tried to remember the lessons from my failed Italian class. These sounds, though, hurt my ears, sharp and agonizing as they wound their way into my mind, each syllable cutting deep.
As fast as it went in, the nail jerked from my back; and the room around me faded to a dim, dingy gray. My guilt washed away along with the person I used to be. My life, Like Tish’s, was now over. The dim lighting surrounding me increased, or maybe my eyes grew accustomed to the gloom. Either way, no matter what direction I turned my head, the terrain remained flat. The only objects interrupting the dreary landscape were gray conical-shaped pods of various sizes.
I lay on the sandy ground, staring at the base of several pods, until I had to move. I pushed myself upright, and with a long sigh, stood. My feet aimlessly walked for hours but I saw no one, not even a bug. Off to my left, the path cut through a small valley. At the far end stood another cluster of columns.
The valley was nothing more than a dip in the road, but I trudged through it anyway. The craggy surface of each column was covered with thin cracks and thousands of tiny indentations. With no wind, why did the surfaces look sandblasted? I circled around the nearest one and ran into a large rock with several smaller ones nestled beside it.
“Finally, a place to sit other than the hard ground,” I whispered to myself. “Not that a rock is going to be any less hard.” Whatever this place was, the silence reminded me of the last church I’d gone to. Hallowed.
Instead of sitting on the rock, I chose the more protected position, curled up inside the junction of the two largest rocks, and closed my eyes.
A prickling sensation tingled on the back of my neck and made the short hairs on my arms rise. I was being watched. My eyelids flew open and a hard shudder jolted my thin frame as I stared into the dark eyes of my first foster brother.
My dead foster brother. My heart stuttered as I realized my fate.
I had traded one kind of hell for another.
Chapter 2
Nightmare Realm
Malachi
“What in the hell have I gotten myself into?”
With a shake of my head I took in the surrounding landscape’s sparseness. Striations of varying shades of earth tones, dull and lifeless, cut through the ground and reminded me of those horrid contemporary paintings I’d seen at the Metropolitan Museum of Art the last time I went to the Mortal Realm with Niki. Several dozen columns dotted the horizon, each unique in size and shape. Most were tall and twisted, resembling a coiled rope, while others were shorter and bent over, their tops a mere inch or two above the ground. I stared at the strange objects.
“Those are new,” I mumbled, swiping my hand across my strained eyes, my vision blurred from overuse. I squinted at them again. “What in the hell are those?” Cutting through the gray landscape, my boots plodded across the sandless rocks with dull thuds as I made my way over to the nearest column. My scowl deepened, and I brushed the pads of my fingers across the bumpy surface.
Beneath the layer resembling thick dust were fine lines scouring the column, but no matter how many times I swiped the surface, none of the sandy granules fell away.
I glanced around at the several hundred or so of the same structures. The last time I’d been here was two days ago. Even with the time difference between realms, one or two could have appeared, but not this many. Not only was the magic going awry, but a few of the realms seem to have been affected as well.
The demon king wouldn’t be pleased with my next report, but it couldn’t be avoided. Lucien needed to know something this important sooner rather than later.
With a frustrated exhale I forced myself to move away, bisecting my original path. If I didn’t get moving, I would miss my rendezvous with Niki and Johnna. Niki might be my best friend, but he was first and foremost the king’s head demon enforcer and a stickler for the rules. Niki was also my boss.
Despite the serious nature of my quest, I had to chuckle when thinking about Niki’s true mate. Johnna was something else. She brought life to the stodgy Demon Realm, and I looked forward to her antics. She’d definitely make all our lives a lot more interesting.
Remembering the last time I saw her and her tears, I clenched my jaw until the sharp bite of pain became uncomfortable. I promised Johnna I would find her parents. Instead, I had more questions than answers; no more clues to Gerard and Sabine’s whereabouts than I had when I left.
I pushed forward, my long strides eating up the distance to the last and final area Johnna’s parents could be. Since their disappearance, I’d searched every hiding place I knew of throughout the many realms in Dark World. Anywhere the demon queen could have hidden them.
Unfortunately, the queen was condemned to the bowels of Tartarus for Lucifer to deal with—courtesy of Johnna—so there would be no asking her. There was only one more realm I knew to search, and the Nightmare Realm was no place for innocents, even ones as magically adept as Gerard and Sabine. All I could do now was hope and pray I found them before something irrevocable happened.
I stopped, the tips of my black leather boots kissing the linear edge of gray sand where it bordered the hard-packed path of the Blood Realm. Twisting this way and that, the indistinct charcoal path wound its way through the never-ending field of rocky crevices of the same color before curving back into the grayness of the Nightmare Realm. I knew firsthand the abrasive, knifelike texture of the pumice rock, thankful for my thick-soled boots as I stepped across the invisible boundary. The slight tug on my soul as I crossed the barrier into the land of the Vampyres was no more uncomfortable than a mosquito bite.
I only needed to pass through a few feet of the Blood Realm to reach the largely unknown narrow opening leading into the Nightmare Realm. The Vampyres, of course, knew the moment I breached their barrier but would leave me alone. I might be part demon now, but the angel half of my soul would be enough to keep them from seeking me out.
“Malachi!”
I turned at the sharp-toned but familiar female voice behind me, shocked to see Danielle, one of my best soldiers, standing next to the most reclusive of all the Vampyre priestesses. “Regan? To what do I owe the pleasure?”
She arched a black eyebrow. “Pleasure? Is that what you would call the surprised expression on your face?” She grinned, the tips of her fangs showing. “I know my own reputation. No one sees me and when they do, it’s never a good thing.”
I cleared my throat. “Let me rephrase what I really meant. Am I in trouble for trespassing? No one has ever shown up when I’ve cut across here, traveling between realms.”
“That’s not why we’re here, Malachi,
” Danielle put in. “We’ve had reports here and in three other realms of strange columns appearing overnight.”
“I saw them, too—resembled termite mounds?”
Danielle nodded. “Those are the ones. What’s concerning are the disappearances. People are disappearing from all realms.”
I scrubbed my face with my palms and ran my fingernails across my scalp. The slight burn left in each nail’s wake felt good. “Have you noticed anything else?”
Regan frowned. “Like what?”
“Something off. Spells not working right, wonky magic, anything close to that.”
“Hmmm.” She bit her lower lip with a top fang, then slowly shook her head. “Nothing comes to mind. But I’ve kept to myself lately and haven’t been around the coven. I’m heading there now and will report anything unusual to Danielle. Is that all right?”
I nodded once. “With Gerard and Sabine missing, I won’t be available anyway. Lucien has Niki and me looking for them nonstop. Since Giselle’s failed overthrow, there have been several problems cropping up, but nothing concrete. Nothing we can conclusively say was caused by what she did. All we can do is keep an eye on everything and put a stop to things as they arise.”
Regan nodded. “When I get back to my lair, I’ll scry for anything out of the ordinary—more so than we already have. If I learn something, I’ll deliver the information myself.”
“Thanks, Regan. I have the feeling whatever this is, it’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better. Giselle wasn’t smart enough to plan something this detailed.”
“Reeks of ancient magic, if you ask me.” Danielle met my gaze.
“I’m afraid you’re right,” I reluctantly agreed. “And the last thing we need right now. With the unrest in the Outlands, we’re going to have a hard enough time keeping the banished ones there under control.”
“There’s always unrest in the Outlands. It’s . . . well, it’s the Outlands,” Regan said. “It’s filled with nonconformers and unconventionals. They enjoy causing problems.”
“True, but they’re in the Outlands to escape from the societies they didn’t fit in with or were thrown out of. They aren’t trying to return to normal societies and overthrow them. Whatever you find, report to Danielle and she’ll get the information to me.”
“Will do.” Regan turned to leave and stopped. “Malachi? One more thing. If what you say is the truth and the realms are indeed glitching, please be careful. Yesterday, during a reading of the bones, I saw a coming power shift. As usual, I have no details. Just know it is coming.”
“Regan, if I ever see you and you don’t give me horrible news, I’ll keel over because my heart exploded.”
She let out a loud belly laugh, fading as she jumped over the low rock wall and disappeared on the other side of the Blood Realm’s barrier wall.
“Danielle, report everything you’ve heard here to Lucien.” I bit back a frustrated sigh. “He’s not going to like it but tell him I still haven’t found any sign of Gerard or Sabine.”
Her brown gaze locked on me a moment longer, then without a word she apparated with a soft pop.
I crept to the ledge of a small cliff overlooking the first valley in the Nightmare Realm. Staring down at the dismal area, I noticed more of the columns throughout the endless gray sands along the bottom. The sight disturbed me but with no idea why, I decided to open my mind and let my senses fly outward.
Finding nothing nearby, I reached out further and felt a twinge of something. I tried to home in on it, but the moment my magic touched whatever it was, as quick as a blink, it vanished.
Growling deep in my throat, I set out, keeping a fast but steady pace, and trekked through valley after valley as I searched for Gerard’s familiar magic footprint or Sabine’s Erinys magic. And again came up empty.
Topping another hill, I stopped as the slight tickle of magic skittered over my skin, tingling. Narrowing my gaze, I scanned the distance, trying to see anything more than the familiar gray sand and hazy horizon. A dark silhouette to my left shifted, but I kept my gaze straight ahead, waiting for whomever it was to move again.
The shadowy figure was short and shifted with the rocky formation but stayed where it was. Hoping to draw who or whatever it was out, I moved forward, keeping to my original path but altering it enough so I could keep an eye on the rocks. Just when I thought the bait wasn’t going to be taken, the shadow moved. I felt my mouth curl into a grin that disappeared the minute the shadow stood.
It was a girl. What in the hell was a girl doing in the Nightmare Realm?
Chapter 3
The Nightmare Realm
Willow
I squeezed my gritty eyelids together, trying to close out the world around me. A brilliant flash of gold drew my attention to the horizon. I blinked painfully once, twice. Was I hallucinating? I tried to will away the gorgeous man in the distance and, of course, failed.
I spotted another bright flash. Squinting, I noticed the gold seemed to be some sort of armband, at least from what I could tell from this distance. Time had stopped since the demoness sent me here.
Wherever here was.
There was one thing I could be thankful for. It was a small consolation my hallucinations were good-looking men and not horrendous monsters.
My arms hung motionless by my sides, and I didn’t have enough energy to even pick up my legs anymore, but something deep inside of me wanted me to follow the man. I opened my eyes to find the hallucination gone and sighed in relief. The longer I remained in this godforsaken place, the more my limbs felt like they were filled with lead.
Time might have stood still, but my body really hadn’t. I desperately needed sleep—longer than a few seconds after closing my eyes—but if the constant nightmares had their way, I would never sleep again. Everything else, though, had stopped. I no longer experienced hunger, didn’t have to go to the bathroom, or had any other bodily functions. Not that I was complaining, mind you. Some things could stay gone forever.
Unfortunately, other things wouldn’t go away. I had relived the worst parts of my life so many times since being sent here. Every mistake I’d ever made and every sin I’d stupidly committed were now seared into my mind. If someone had asked me what kind of person I was before this had happened, I would’ve said I was a good person.
After my experiences here, however, I wasn’t so sure anymore.
At the age of six, I’d been sent to my first foster home. In that home and every home I lived in after, someone had been either severely hurt or killed. Because of me.
I felt the familiar sucking sensation wash over me as the air was pulled from my lungs. I jerked my eyes open, immediately wishing I hadn’t when grit and ash sandblasted my dehydrated eyeballs. Since my arrival, several things had begun changing, the appearance of wind one of them. Another difference was the noticeable change in light, gradually darkening as if night approached, yet it never did. Without a sun in the sky, how was there even light?
A shadow suddenly appeared, looming above me. With a sharp jolt, I arched backward. The knee-jerk reaction slammed the back of my skull against the sharp edge of the sea sponge-looking rock formation behind me. When my head bounced off without any major lacerations, I was thankful whatever covered the rock was somewhat soft. Massaging the sore spot on my head, I glared at the rock and wished it felt more like a sponge.
I pulled my jean-clad legs in as close as I could against my chest and wrapped my arms around them. Noticing a new bruise, I gingerly prodded it and let out a slow hiss, jerking my hand away when the pads of my fingers slid across warm, slick blood. I shuddered. I hated blood.
Like an old Hitchcock movie, the light flashed brighter then faded into a dim backlight, creating a screen for the visual playing in front of me. Against my will, I stood, fighting each step, but something much str
onger forced me to continue advancing toward my next nightmare.
The gray world swirled around me, vanishing completely as I entered an eerily familiar kitchen. A kitchen I never wanted to see again. Like a marionette, I turned to face the door I knew led into a living room. One blink and a girl appeared in front of me. Her dark auburn hair was rolled in a tight knot underneath her right ear. Several wispy tendrils hung in perfection, accentuating her long neck.
My foster sister’s best friend was a cheerleader and one of the meanest girls I’d ever known. In truth, Amanda Bradford was a total bitch.
“So, waddles, any of the loser geeks ask you to the prom yet?” Her mouth formed a perfect moue, and she shook her head. “No? I thought this year might be different. Perhaps even you might find a date.” She shrugged and leaned her flat stomach against the countertop. “I’m sure Ms. Tronsky would let you borrow the fat friar’s habit from last year’s spring play if you need a dress.”
“Manda, the boys want to know if there’s food—chips, dip, anything?” A male voice hollered.
My heartbeat tripled as the star quarterback strode into the room. His sun-kissed tawny hair had grown out from his usual spiky cut since spring training hadn’t started yet. His drool-worthy looks didn’t fool me. Instead of a heart, he had a worthless piece of coal inside his chest. I bit back a groan. Jake Upton was worse than Amanda.
I scrunched my eyelids and willed myself to disappear, hoping he couldn’t see me from where he stood, yet knowing full well he could.
“Well, well, look who’s joined our little party.” His tone oozed enough oil to drown a snake.
I shuddered. Poor snake.
I steeled myself against the coming ridicule. Deep down, I knew none of it was true, but the insults hurt anyway. I ignored him, humming a monotonous tune in my head to drown out his harsh words.
Saved by the Spell (Of Mystics and Mayhem Book 2) Page 2
