by Randi Darren
Decima had gone through a radical transformation in a very short period of time. One that marked her as an entirely different person than she could ever actually link to her old name.
“First, I must say that in this brief period since I gained my new body, I feel as though I have lived more fully than I ever did in the past.
“Regardless of the short amount of time compared to my life before, my new existence is richer and more complete now than ever before.
“Second, I find you entirely far too romantic and caring for my poor heart to keep up with,” whispered Decima. It sounded almost as if she was speaking to herself. “Before this moment, I had only been contemplating wanting children and a full family with you. Now, my heart quivers at the idea of it. I cannot wait to hold Abby’s or Irene’s child in my arms. They will also be my family.”
Well, that’s certainly surprising. Especially given that Irene is a Witch.
“Lastly, Husband,” Decima said in a tight tone now. She lifted her head from the bed and stared hard at him. “You’re getting in the bed with me right now. I need you.”
Sam didn’t argue.
***
Standing in a small room with Carissa and Irma, Sam yawned. He hadn’t slept much in the last two or three weeks.
Most of his evenings were spent trying to turn Imps and Cambion inside out. From bed to bed he would go.
It was part of his duty as their Planar Lord and Essence provider. Doubly so now that Jena’s scheme had fallen apart.
Last night had been different, though, as he’d spent the entirety of it with Tiffany and Stacia. From the moment he joined Tiffany and Stacia in their home until he left it this morning, it had been a never-ending series of three-ways.
Except whatever they did, it always ended with him emptying himself into Tiffany with unlocked possibilities of impregnating her.
Now that I think about it, have I actually slept at all in six days? I don’t think I have.
“Are you not sleeping again?” asked Carissa.
Turning his head, Sam looked at the Cyclops.
She was an excellent specimen of her race. Dressed in business attire that was professional, while still complimenting her figure.
Her short raven-hued locks were styled and pulled up and back from her face. Her honey-colored eye was staring forward at the point where the portal would open for them.
She had a build similar to Tiffany though their dispositions were nothing alike. Where Tiffany was quick to talk about her feelings after a fleeting defense, Carissa was often silent.
Reaching up, she pulled at her waistline, adjusting the business wear she was in. She looked like she would be going to a corporate headquarters for an interview.
Apparently, she felt his eyes on her and glanced at him then quickly away.
She was often watching.
Especially people.
To see if others would watch her. Or more accurately, her eye.
She was particularly sensitive to the stare of others at her single eye. More so because those who could see her for what she truly was, often looked away when she looked back at them.
“Not really,” Sam admitted, not having looked away from her. “Busy. Always working in one way or another.”
On his other side, Irma let out a long sigh.
“I wish I could say I don’t wake up at night, realize he’s gone, and wonder who he’s sleeping with,” complained the Imp. “But that’s the life I signed up for when I agreed to being his wife.
“And before you apologize, Sammy. I’m not upset. Nor do I expect an apology.”
Looking over at Irma, his first Imp—the woman who had made his life possible and had given him the ability to love and care for others—he felt rather guilty.
Incredibly so.
Meeting his eyes, she gave him a grim smile and raised her eyebrows.
Her long red hair was held together with various clips, so that the whole thing draped behind her in a style that was her own. Something everyone had come to expect her to look like.
Her eyes were blue with long, thin, green strands of color radiating out from the pupil. Sam often found himself staring into her eyes and finding them incredibly beautiful.
Today she was wearing what he’d call a business suit, very similar one to what Carissa was dressed in.
Glancing down at himself, he couldn’t deny that they were all dressed in similar colors and style. Irma had set the clothes out for him, which meant she had likely done the same thing for Carissa.
I wonder if she would consider the clothes our battle uniforms for these events.
“Any questions? Meeting is set to begin any second now,” asked Irma.
“None. You’ve briefed us quite well,” Sam said honestly.
Without Irma, none of this would be possible. He’d likely still be going from contract to contract as he used to. Living on his plane, treating the mortals like a disposable currency, and never realizing how empty his life was.
“Thank you, Irma. For giving me this life,” said Sam as that sudden moment of clarity dawned on him.
“I… well, Sam, I never—”
Before she could finish speaking, a summoning portal opened up in front of them. It was keyed to Sam and his brand.
Reaching out with his Essence, he could feel that it was the summoning they expected. The one they sent to all would-be clients.
Everything was exactly as it should be, exactly as Sam had designed.
“Feels right,” Irma muttered, also looking toward the spell. “What is beyond feels correct too. Sam?”
“Yes. It does indeed feel correct. Nothing out of place and everything as it should be,” he agreed.
Regardless of how many times these opened up, they would never step through one without inspecting it. It would be asking for trouble if one didn’t look into it.
“I’ll go first,” Carissa volunteered, even as she strode forward. Not waiting, she stepped through the summoning spell portal and appeared on the other side.
The Cyclops didn’t give Sam or Irma a chance to disagree with her or suggest something different. She acted deliberately and without waiting.
After entering the room, she looked around, clearly made eye contact with someone, and nodded her head toward them. Breaking her gaze away, she inspected the rest of the room.
Nothing seemed to be amiss.
Looking back to Sam, she gave him a subdued smile.
Waiting only a moment after that, Sam stepped through the summoning spell. Irma followed afterward.
The rest of the room was exactly what he’d expected it to be. Some kind of meeting room with a table, chairs, several decorative pieces, and a phone.
Light came in from a single window and Sam had the impression they were in a rather tall building in some type of downtown area. For the moment, he couldn’t actually remember if Irma had told him where they’d be going.
Looking to where Carissa had ducked her head in acknowledgment, Sam found a trio of people. They were all dressed in what appeared to be expensively-made suits. Hand-tailored to each person from what Sam would guess.
Staring at them now, Sam had a strange feeling. Like he was gazing into a fun house mirror. The longer he stared at the trio, the more the feeling intensified.
Building and growing, second by second. To the point that he felt like it’d become a rapidly spinning kaleidoscope.
It almost looked like one of the trio had just pulled something out of their jacket. But at the same time, it looked like they were standing absolutely still.
Neither Irma nor Carissa were reacting. In fact, they were having a casual conversation with the trio of people.
All the while, Sam felt as though sweat was beading up on his face and starting to roll down his skin. Even the shadows began to bend and shift wildly.
At the exact same time that everything came into focus for him, the summoning spell snapped shut.
It was a trio of golems. All without sou
ls and powered by Essence alone. He hadn’t been able to see them because there were an incredible number of glamours on them.
Perhaps hundreds of them, in fact. Hundreds for each golem.
All stacked atop one another. With slightly different features, looks, poses, clothes, and expressions. Over and over and over and over.
The intense, dizzying sensation Sam had felt was from these glamours. His personal skill and natural ability had been tearing through it all. Breaking them down, ripping them apart, and casting them aside.
“It’s you,” said a voice. It appeared to come from the corner of the room, but there was no one there. He knew the voice after a second of thought. A voice he hadn’t heard directed at him in a long time. “Sameerixis Fidenis Xilin Fisch Elh.”
The use of a good portion of his true name confirmed who he believed it was. Who he knew it was.
Jenaphila.
Damn. We actually walked into a damn trap.
Thankfully, Sam’s countermeasures to being locked away from his plane were working. He could gather Essence from it, send Essence back, and even feel it.
His multitude of connections to his people were all still active, working, and there.
“My, my, my. You look as delicious as ever. You haven’t changed at all. I honestly expected you’d have died by now. Dead on your plane.
“Certainly not here. Certainly not… certainly not stealing my things. Breaking my toys. Hurting my empire!”
Sam lifted his hands and lashed out with a spellwork of Essence. Trying to attack before this went any further.
Except that had apparently been the wrong action to take.
Rather than be destroyed, the golems were rapidly sucked into themselves. Everything of themselves was withdrawn and buried into their cores.
It built up and then suddenly exploded. The Essence that had been held inside them detonated and blasted outward along with all the material that they’d been made out of.
The Essence explosion shot out fire, bits of their bodies, and what must have been literal pounds of ball bearings that’d been in their stomach.
Throwing out an Essence shield around Irma and Carissa, Sam reached out at the same time with his energy. Pushing himself into the world to feel what was built up around them.
“You stupid asshole! You’re triggering this too soon! I haven’t even had a chance to gloat over you yet!” screamed Jenaphila.
Endless numbers of intricate Essence spells had been scrawled onto the floor, ceiling, and walls all around them. Every direction, including upward and downward, were filled with Essence work.
There was nothing in any direction that bode any goodness for them. The only possible option that Sam could figure was the window. While they were likely quite far up, it was somewhere they could go, that would get them out.
Just gotta grab them both up and get my wings out!
Grabbing Irma, Sam threw her over his shoulder. Before he had to say anything, Carissa had already spun on her heel. Heading straight for the window, she dove through it.
Apparently, she’d come to a similar conclusion about the situation that Sam had. It didn’t matter that they could be on the upper floor somewhere.
Staying in the building was asking to be killed or captured. That left the window as the only plausible exit.
He followed her out the window, as even more of the spellwork laid into the building went up in fiery eruptions.
Through the explosions, he could hear Jenaphila shrieking at him all the while. Screaming, ranting, and raving at what he’d done to her, and how she was going to kill him.
Four - Velocity -
Falling through the air, Sam knew he didn’t have long. Seconds, really, considering they weren’t all that high up. There was almost no time at all for him to act, let alone think about how he wanted to act.
I need to get to Carissa as quickly as I can and then—
Apparently, the Cyclops didn’t need any help or input from him on what needed to be done.
She had seemingly assumed he would be diving after her long before he had realized he would be.
Even as she’d started to fall away, she’d already spun herself around. Then spread herself out, pushing her arms and legs out wide. She did what she could to slow her descent and give him a chance to catch up to her.
Which worked quite well.
Before he could actively go after her in a full dive, he literally slammed into her. The second they made contact with one another, the Cyclops wrapped herself tightly around him. She leveraged both her arms and her legs, acting more like a blanket.
Snapping his wings out at the same moment he materialized them, Sam suddenly felt the incredible weight he was carrying. Between himself, Irma, and Carissa, he was far and away overburdened.
There was no possibility of him actually gaining any altitude like this. Not to mention with what limited control over his Essence he had, there was no way he could empower his wings to propel them upward. There just wasn’t a possibility of escaping vertically.
Holding his wings out instead, Sam did his best to arrest their descent. With no hope of flying, that left only falling.
Or more accurately, falling with less than lethal force. Working his wings to the fullest, he did his best to stretch them out to their maximum surface area.
Gritting his teeth, he could feel the intense strain being put on those wings. It felt like they were going to be forcefully removed from his back.
Hitting the ground, Sam’s legs absorbed most of the impact. His ankles, knees, and hips shuddered. Slamming down, he felt his rear end smash into the asphalt of the road.
Carissa sprang away from him as Irma shimmied off his shoulder at the same time. Leaving Sam on his ass even as the two women looked around in each direction.
“This way,” declared Carissa, lifting her arm and pointing to a building not far away. “There’s a door at the back that leads into an alley. We can use that to get to the next street over. The hotel is there, right?”
“Yes!” Irma exclaimed. She and Carissa were running across the street now toward the building. “I have the credit card I booked it under on me.”
Smart! Love smart those smart women!
Need to reward them all and—
Even as Sam levered himself up to a standing position, he was slammed back down to the ground. It was as if he’d been swatted by a giant and his entire body felt weak.
Belatedly, he realized the thunderous cracking noises he was hearing were gunshots. That he was, in fact, being shot.
Carissa and Irma dove behind cover and kept moving. Though Irma’s hand was gripping her shoulder and he could already see blood welling up between her fingers.
Shit.
Rolling to one side, Sam managed to get himself up under the side of a parked car. Looking up to the rooftops far above him, he couldn’t see anyone with weapons.
Which meant that whoever was shooting was across from the room where they’d been summoned. They’d likely been watching the windows with weapons.
I ended up kicking everything off earlier than expected.
Turning his head, Sam looked across the street toward where Irma and Carissa had been. He could just see them through the windows of a car on the other side of the street.
They were clearly trying to figure out how to get to him.
“Go!” Sam shouted at the top of his lungs. They needed to get out of here now. Neither woman had received the soul-binding runes yet, as they’d just barely finished testing them.
Sam wouldn’t be able to grab their ethereal selves if they died. It’d be up to their own strength to survive the pull of the afterlife.
And as of late, that pull was intensely strong. People died and were ripped free of their bodies before they even knew they were dead.
Irma and Carissa hesitated for a moment longer, then bolted off. They headed toward the escape route that they’d apparently worked out in advance.
I should have aske
d about it myself. I’m far, far too lazy.
Berating himself, Sam felt his power waning. His body was also getting heavier by the moment.
Looking down at himself, he saw that he’d indeed been shot.
Several times, in fact.
From the feel of it, he’d been shot with pure iron. His insides had a squirming sick feeling. One that Sam hadn’t felt in a very long time.
Hate iron. Hate it so much.
Grimacing, Sam put his hands over his abdomen and concentrated on trying to heal the wounds. To heal the damage caused.
His Essence responded sluggishly. Almost resistant to his need.
With his plane partially locked away and being shot with actual iron, he was having difficulty with his magic. He wasn’t lacking in power at the moment, as he could clearly draw on it.
But it just wasn’t responding to him very well.
Sam suddenly doubted if he’d be able to find his way back to his plane if he died. All of his backup plans from being cut off from his planes were working correctly.
However, being shot with actual iron while trapped in a plane-diminishing spell after being summoned, was outside of his expectations.
The only reason he was likely alive at all was the sheer number of precautions he’d taken to never be truly cut off from his plane again. All the plane-breaks, his bindings with Aster and Jes, and his contracts with mortals, were all working as intended.
Need to remind myself to kiss that pretty Deccy of mine. Her little saying of ‘it’s only paranoia, if it’s unreasonable’ most certainly came true.
Getting his thoughts in order, Sam realized he couldn’t just lay here. He needed to get up and get moving. Because there was no reason that the ones who’d shot at him couldn’t move.
They’d just shift location and start shooting again.
Or send someone down to street level to take care of him.
Because they clearly don’t give a damn about anyone else.
Turning his gaze up toward the building they’d come out of, he could hear explosions, as well as the sound of what could only be fire. The whole thing was going up faster and faster.
Add the gunmen to the situation and it meant they really didn’t care at all about who was watching. Or who might show up.
