Planet Urth Boxed Set

by Jennifer Martucci

  So much sifting had enervated him, though. His daggers felt heavy in his hands. He started to lower them, their weight suddenly overwhelming, when a force unexpectedly blasted him backward. He slammed against the far wall and nearly lost his grip on the two ancient daggers that had been passed down through each generation of his family.

  The remaining four sets of crimson eyes glared hungrily at him, their bloodlust apparent. Once his body hit the wall and he felt it begin to slide down, he gripped his blades as tightly as he could and tested the limits of his powers by sifting again, vanishing from the sight of the others. He reappeared amid the lethal quartet and watched as their deadly eyes widened.

  Shocked by his ability, but undeterred, they continued their attack, launching streams of fire at him. Flares of fire flashed past him as he twisted and maneuvered. Embers rained against his cloak, but the others soon learned that Desmond was far quicker than they were.

  They were all supernatural beings, but he moved with remarkable speed and dexterity, thanks in part to rigorous training his father had insisted upon, and sprung forward, driving both blades into the throats of two of them. When another blaze of fire flared in his direction, he was able to disappear in time to avoid his demise and materialized behind the two that remained. With a war cry, he rammed his blades into the back of their necks and they dropped instantly.

  He snapped his head toward the altar and saw that the robed man stared in shock. But Desmond knew the man’s shock would be short-lived. He teleported immediately and positioned himself inches from the man, prepared to kill with the final drops of energy that remained in him.

  “Who are you?” the man asked and allowed only the faintest flicker of awe to flash in his ruby eyes.

  “I am Desmond, son of Agnon, and the guardian of the Sola,” Desmond announced and saw a slight spark of surprise dance across the man’s hard features. “I have been with her for her entire life and am certain she would never condone what has happened here. The Sola is not evil.”

  The robed man began to laugh, a demonic cackle that clawed at Desmond’s ears.

  “What amuses you about my words?” Desmond demanded with strength he feared he did not have.

  “No one said she was evil,” the robed man hissed. “The vile creatures of this world are evil, humans are evil. And they need to be exterminated. Don’t you see?” the man cackled again. “She is the light. You don’t know her at all. Just ask your father,” he spat. “The end of humanity has been prophesied, and she is the medium by which it will begin!”

  Desmond took an instinctive step backward, doubt and a sudden need for space conspiring against him, purging his lungs of air they so desperately needed. Surely, the warlock had gone mad, he was wrong. But something about the way he’d spoken, his conviction, had unsettled Desmond. He wondered why the robed man had been so convinced, and why he’d told Desmond to ask his father about Arianna.

  As though he’d read Desmond’s mind, the man began to laugh again, louder and more perversely.

  Ire racked Desmond’s body and combined with a sudden flood of adrenaline. Both overtook him so fully, he was helpless against his own hands. Both stabbed forward, as if of their own volition, gripping the daggers and lodging their blades to their hilt in the man’s neck. He quickly withdrew both blades and watched as the robed man’s body collapsed to the floor.

  He stood staring at the man as life escaped him, feeling equal parts satisfaction and self-loathing. Killing was not new to him. Throughout the near-century he’d been alive, Desmond had killed many. But he’d never grown accustomed to the feel of ending another being’s life. On this day, he’d taken more than twenty; some men, some women, but all had been his brethren. All had been like him.

  Standing amid the fallen, uncertainty crept inside his mind and stole about like a thief, uninvited, unwelcome, and determined to take his sense of security. But his doubt was quickly quashed by the weeping of those inside the cage. He sheathed his weapons and turned toward them. Through tear-filled eyes, they looked at him, undoubtedly terrified he would turn on them next.

  “I will not harm you,” he assured them. But the woman and child seemed unconvinced. Given what they’d been through, Desmond could not blame them. Instead of attempting to reassure them further, he decided that actions would speak louder than words. He approached their cage and, focusing all of his energy on the bars, pulled two of them apart.

  “Go,” he said. “The tunnels will lead you out of here. Walk with the flow of the water.” He handed them his flashlight and still, they watched him warily.

  He stepped aside and let them pass holding his hands with his palms facing them in surrender. Wordlessly, they filed out and left the maintenance building and avoided looking at the bodies on the floor.

  With the prisoners freed, Desmond was left alone with the carnage he’d created, and questions. He needed to leave, to get away from the death around him. But first, he needed to dispose of the bodies so that they would never be found. He closed his eyes tightly and summoned every ounce of his power. He felt the whole of his energy swell. It swarmed and rose within him like a great surge of electricity until his fingertips tingled and prickled, readied. He flicked both wrists forward, and as he did, fire leaped from them. The blazing stream branched in several directions like lightning at his command and touched each of the bodies he’d felled. Their flesh incinerated on contact, leaving behind small mounds of ashes.

  Sadness filled Desmond, sadness and confusion. Death followed him wherever he went, traveled with him like a dark passenger, always at his side. And his dark passenger kept a companion: questions. The more death Desmond encountered, the more questions arose. This time, the man who’d led the gathering had instigated them. His words nagged at Desmond’s brain. The man had seemed convinced of the Sola’s purpose, certain that she’d been sent to unite all witches on Earth for the purpose of destroying humanity.

  But the man’s conviction did not mean his words were true. Desmond did not know whether the man had simply created a bastardization of the truth he had guarded his whole life, or whether something far different was happening. Regardless, Desmond needed answers. He needed to know the truth. But first, he needed to see Arianna.

  Chapter 2

  “Well this is it,” Arianna’s new landlord, John Jervis, announced and spread his plump arms wide.

  Arianna wasn’t sure why he was acting like a game-show host presenting a contestant with what she’d won. It was just a cabin in the woods, not a free weeklong stay at a luxury hotel. Besides, she’d already seen the place twice.

  “What do you think?” he asked and looked at her expectantly, as if waiting for her to ooh and ah over property she’d visited before.

  “It’s great,” she said and watched as his features shriveled. She knew from the look on his face that she hadn’t been enthusiastic enough in her response. But enthusiasm was hard to convey, especially since she’d been there on two separate occasions with a real estate agent before agreeing to rent it. And then the ordeal had really begun.

  “Hmm,” he said and arched a bushy brow at her. “You don’t seem so sure.”

  “John, of course I’m sure,” she assured him and wondered why he was so reluctant to rent the place. Why list it if you don’t want anyone to actually rent it, moron! She thought. She was tempted to ask him exactly that, but decided against it. She did not want to waste more time trying to find another house if she pushed him too far. So she went another way and reminded him of how difficult he’d made the process up until the present. “And besides, weren’t you the one who didn’t want to rent this place to me? I’m starting to think you are the one who’s not sure. Maybe you don’t want to part with this place. Or maybe you just don’t like me,” she said and feigned a pained expression.

  “I, uh, you see,” he stammered uncomfortably.

  She smiled and laughed softly. “Don’t get yourself worked up, John, I was just messing with you. I get it. I know how you feel, ab
out renting to me, at least,” she helped him. “My age was a factor at first. No hard feelings. I understand. I would have had the same concerns, believe me.”

  He looked relieved and his chubby face relaxed a bit. “Good,” he said and opened his mouth to say something else, but she cut him off.

  “Damn right it’s good. Good for you, that is,” she joked. “You already made a fortune off me. If I were to split, you’d make out with three months’ rent and two months’ security.”

  Unaccustomed to her direct sense of humor, his ruddy cheeks deepened to an unhealthy shade of magenta. Nothing she’d said had been untrue. After all, the terms of her lease agreement had been at his choosing. And while his sloppy and overall unhygienic appearance gave off the impression of an unintelligent may, John was far from stupid. He was a shrewd businessman. He was protecting his investment.

  “Yes,” he said hesitantly. “I guess you’re right. I am in a good position, aren’t I?”

  “Yes, yes you are,” she said and attempted a smile, but it did not reach her eyes. Her attempt at happiness felt so forced and phony, she feared her face would crack in half. “I was just ribbing you. And don’t worry about your cabin here,” she said and swept her arm to one side, gesturing to the living room. “I’ll take good care of it, okay? There won’t be any wild parties, I promise. But don’t go getting any ideas about me skipping town or anything. I plan on being here for a while. Don’t start spending my security deposit,” she finished with a wink.

  Looking equal parts heartened and puzzled, the man smiled goofily and leaned in to speak to her. Arianna immediately noticed that his breath reeked of liquor. A quick glance at her watch revealed that it was not yet eleven o’clock in the morning. She backed away reflexively and couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose.

  “I trust you, Arianna. You seem like a nice kid who’s been through rough times,” he said then handed her a single silver key and a piece of paper. “My home telephone number is on there as well as my cell phone number. If you need anything, just call me.”

  “You got it,” she promised.

  John ran a hand through his wooly hair that was more salt than pepper then rested both on his round belly.

  “Okay then,” he stalled. “Take care.”

  She wanted to scream, “Okay, get the hell out already!” but thought twice about it. He was her landlord, after all, and she needed to be polite and respectful. She nodded and said, “You, too!” instead and did her best to smile again.

  He hesitated a moment and parted his lips as if he were going to say something, but closed them abruptly then turned and walked out the front door.

  She sighed, relieved, as soon as the front door closed. She could not have imagined spending another moment pretending she was normal when she was anything but. Both she and her life were broken irrevocably. Fortunately, nothing in the house resembled her life.

  Arianna glanced around the small cabin she’d rented. The space was small and sparsely decorated, but immaculately clean. Clean was a good thing given how dirty and complicated her life had become. Two weeks earlier, she had lost everyone she’d cared about. Three people had lost their lives, murdered by Howard Kane, a man who’d devoted his entire life to rooting out and killing her. While Kane had not succeeded at killing her, not physically at least, he had succeeded at taking from her that which had not been his to take. He’d ripped three of the only people she’d ever cared for from her life. He’d taken Lily and Luke. He had taken her mother.

  Luke and Lily had been people she’d just begun to let her guard down with, but her mother had been a fixture in her life since she’d been born. And while Cathy Rose had not been by any stretch of the imagination a model mother, she had been the only mother Arianna had ever known, and loved.

  Thoughts of her mother, her horrific death so fresh in her mind, slammed against Arianna’s chest like a sledgehammer. The cabin seemed suddenly cramped and the demand for fresh air overwhelming. She dropped her bags to the couch and strode to a sliding glass door off the kitchen. After fumbling with the ancient lock for several seconds, the latch released and the door slid open. She stuck her face out and breathed.

  The late-November air was crisp and a brisk breeze blew her hair back, but she felt impervious to the cold. Her insides already felt frozen, immobilized by the paralytic effects of grief. She inhaled deeply and felt the anesthetizing properties of the sharp air numb her lungs. She wondered whether there was a way to numb all of her insides, particularly the ceaseless smarting in her core.

  Eager to test the theory, Arianna stepped outside and found that she stood on a small concrete patio. Two plastic lawn chairs remained as reminders that summer had existed not long ago. An overturned plastic pot, the skeletal, brown remains of which lay sprawled across the ground where it had succumbed to death by season change, stood as a forensic reminder that winter loomed on the horizon.

  Winter. The thought of spending the holidays without her mother brought with it a fresh wave of pain. Not that the holidays in the Rose household had been even remotely idyllic. In fact, they’d been far from it. Still, she had not been alone as she would be this year. She closed her eyes and could see her mother leaning against a kitchen counter, a long cigarette protruding from between her lips. She’d hang around and nit-pick everything Arianna did. Of course, her mother had never helped prepare a holiday meal. She’d just linger in a drunken, supervisory capacity until whichever wretched boyfriend she’d been shacking up with returned home with a fresh bottle of liquor for them to celebrate with. It hadn’t been the stuff of carols and cards, but it had been how Arianna had spent each holiday, until now. The realization stung.

  Eager to distract herself from a fresh swell of grief, Arianna turned and walked back inside to find her pack of cigarettes. She riffled though her bag and felt the box immediately, as well as her lighter. Clutching both, she returned to her spot on the patio, alongside the foliage crime scene, and lit a cigarette.

  She inhaled deeply and allowed the smoke to fill her lungs. She was about to exhale when a voice called out to her unexpectedly.

  “Oh Arianna, just one more thing,” John called from nowhere.

  “Holy shit!” Arianna jumped and fumbled her cigarette. She’d nearly dropped it, but caught it just in time. The burning head sent embers cascading down the front of her shirt, however, and she lowered her eyes to see if she were on fire. Once confident she was not burning, she looked up and saw a familiar, flushed face a few feet from her. “Jeez!” she jumped again. “What is with people sneaking up on me?”

  “What?” John asked and screwed up his features unattractively.

  “Nothing, nothing,” Arianna dismissed him. “What do you want?” she asked and tried to mask her impatience.

  “The toilet,” he said and frowned at the cigarette between her fingers.

  “Yeah, what about it?” she asked and followed his line of vision to her cigarette.

  “Uh, it’s just that, uh,” he faltered. Then in a sterner tone he said, “You know there’s no smoking in the cabin, right? It’s in the lease.”

  “Yeah, and I’m not inside the cabin am I, John?” she said, annoyance creeping into her tone.

  “Uh, yes, technically that’s true. I just wanted to be clear. I didn’t know you were a smoker. That may have changed things.”

  Anger bristled inside her and she had to make a conscious effort to rein it in. Blazing him where he stood would have given her satisfaction, but she knew she should not abuse her powers over trivial matters such as fussy landlords. “Well, the lease has been signed and I am not violating any of the terms,” she snipped. “What was it about the toilet you wanted to tell me?”

  “Oh yes, the toilet,” he said. “Sometimes you need to jiggle the handle. You know, if it runs after you flush, you’ll need to jiggle the handle.”

  “Okay,” she said and willed her temper to calm. She wanted to shout at him, “Are you frigging kidding me, jiggle the toilet handle? Really?”
but took a deep breath and asked, “Is there anything else?” instead.

  He paused a moment as if mulling her question over in his mind. “Nope, nothing I can think of,” he said but made no attempt to leave.

  In her head, she was shouting, “For the love of god, leave already!”

  Still, John did not budge. He waved the air in front of him and coughed thinly. Arianna inhaled again and blew out a large cloud of smoke in his direction. He rumpled his face and knitted his brows disapprovingly before turning on his heels.

  “All right, Arianna, I’m leaving now. Just remember, no smoking in the cabin.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, John,” Arianna replied and waved at him.

  She watched his portly body waddle across the lawn until it disappeared completely. She lifted her wrist again to take a drag of her cigarette and when she did, a wind chime that sounded like the rattle of her mother’s bangle bracelets startled her. She didn’t remember seeing wind chimes anywhere on the property. She smiled despite the heartache she was feeling, and decided in that moment to not succumb to the intense heartache she was feeling. She’d managed to relieve the Soldiers of the Divine Trinity Church of their substantial funds in spite of it, and had rented the cabin she stood outside of, too. She had not had a choice. Her life needed to continue. And continue it would.