006.008

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The demon’s gaping maw snapped shut mere inches in front of Irene’s face. Inches only because something gripped her arm and pulled.

Irene didn’t stop inches from the demon. The force on her arm kept her going. She flew backward, rolling into a table that had been pushed to the edge of the room.

Pain in her shoulder and upper arm forced her to cry out as she came to a stop. Even through her shirt, Irene could see an unpleasant lump. Her arm wasn’t where it was supposed to be.

Gripping her dislocated shoulder with her other arm, Irene grit her teeth and turned her attention to the scene unfolding before her.

Chaos.

The other students were scrambling around. Some of the older students had their wands out, firing off bolts of electricity or balls of fire at the demon. Others moved to the door, clawing at it in an attempt to escape.

There were still five minutes before the official end of class. Catherine had not unlocked the door yet.

A cynical part of Irene’s mind commented on how much of a fire hazard that was. Catherine could probably unlock it quickly. Unfortunately, she was a little tied up at the moment.

Standing in her fully transformed demonic form, Catherine fought against the demon. She didn’t seem to be doing all that well.

Irene would have thought that an oversized rottweiler would have been easy prey for the succubus.

Catherine had one arm caught in a bundle of tentacles. Her other arm was placed firmly on the demon’s head, trying to keep the tentacles from pulling her arm into its mouth. Her face was twisted into a grimace of frustration.

Behind the demon, the students attacking were not having much effect. Fire washed over the demon’s dark fur without so much as singing. Lightning fared better. Oozing scorch marks appeared around the single spot where lightning had struck.

Since that first bolt connected, the demon had taken to intercepting lightning with some of its spare tentacles. It was somewhat odd to watch it bat away streaks of electricity as if they were physical objects. One tentacle slapped away a bolt, sending it crashing into a desk.

It violated everything Irene knew about electricity–which wasn’t all that much, admittedly.

At least one of the water mages had the good sense to focus on extinguishing the flames that sprung up from the redirected lightning.

With a groan, Irene moved to a sitting position. Even little movements of her arm sent waves of pain flooding through her body.

Still, this was her mistake. She had to at least help fix it.

Pulling her wand from the holster at her side, Irene pointed it towards the summoning circle.

Starting just in front of Catherine’s feet, the ground of the summoning circle started to churn.

It was difficult, concentrating as she was. The pain in her shoulder wasn’t helping matters. Between that, the relatively long distance, and the fact that she was acting on tiled floor–some kind of stone, she wasn’t exactly sure what type–Irene was barely having an effect at all.

She was trying to make pits to latch onto the thing’s legs. It shouldn’t be that difficult. Sure, her final exam the previous year had been manipulating dirt–fairly loose dirt at that, but it was the same basic principle.

Her pits were less hole and more some kind of stone slurry. It was, however, doing something.

Despite Catherine having one arm stuck in place by the tentacles, she was putting up quite the fight.

Anytime the tentacles let up for a moment, to deflect lightning for instance, Catherine capitalized on the moment of weakness. She turned the hand keeping the demon from eating her other hand into a vicious claw aimed straight at the eyes.

Two of the demon’s four eyes were already lying on the floor in small puddles of violet blood.

Her tail wasn’t idle either.

Irene had initially thought that Catherine’s spaded tail was for balance or even decoration. The leathery spade at the tip certainly did not look sharp enough to rend limbs.

Yet that was exactly what it was doing.

The tail darted around almost faster than Irene could follow as if it had a mind of its own. A single cut couldn’t take out an entire tentacle. Each swipe amounted to little more than a shallow cut. The speed is what gave her tail its lethality. A flurry of cuts easily dismembered a snake-like tentacle.

The demon’s tentacles continually tried to interfere. They darted hither and thither, attempting to wrap around and contain Catherine’s tail.

For a brief moment, the demon tried to turn its head back towards the students that were slinging spells.

Catherine reared her own head back before plunging it down into the demon’s head. Her platinum hair went flying around her in a wild mane.

Both of her slightly curved horns came back dripping with violet blood.

With Catherine keeping the demon in one place, it started sinking into the softened ground.

Though nothing changed in her concentration, all four of the demon’s legs disappeared beneath the ground with a loud slurping noise. Its fat belly rested against the tiles, sinking only slightly.

Blinking at the sudden change in the tiles, Irene noted Randal standing nearby. He kept his wand trained on the demon.

No, trained on the ground beneath the demon.

At least someone caught on to what Irene was doing.

Fed up with putting out the small fires around the room, the water mage with burn marks covering her skin started conjuring a large body of water. She managed to rope one of the more panicky students into the task as well.

Before long, a bathtub-sized pool of water hovered over Catherine and the dog-like demon.

Kicking the dog in the face, Catherine swiped her sharp claws and tail straight through the last few tentacles holding on to her arm. She jumped out of the way just as the bathtub of water enveloped the demon.

While the two water mages worked to freeze their water solid, the air mage that had been throwing the largest lightning bolts set to charging up a truly frightening amount of lightning at the tip of his wand.

Steam burst from the watery orb as the most lightning Irene had ever seen outside of a natural storm pierced straight through the demon.

All of the floundering snake-like tentacles seized up. Bubbles of air came from the demon’s mouth as violet blood stained the water.

A moment later and the water froze over. The demon sat within, stilling as the ice froze on the inside as well.

With the demon looking much like an oversized curio jar, the rest of the students started to calm down.

For a moment, there was pure silence.

Well, except for the two remaining students still trying to break down the door.

“You two,” Catherine called out to the students by the door, “do not need to return next class.”

Neither of the two acknowledged her. The locks on the door clicked open as soon as Catherine finished speaking. They both fled from the room without a glance back, shouts and cries fading as they ran down the hall. The noises were cut off as the door swung shut again.

When they were stopped by someone else and asked what was wrong, Irene very much hoped that they would remember the contract that they signed. The consequences of forgetting wouldn’t be pleasant.

Irene had already learned from her actions. Losing her head and fleeing aimlessly was how she ended up nearly dead at the hands of a partial demon just a few months ago. She certainly wouldn’t be making that mistake again.

Brushing back her currently white-blond hair between her horns, Catherine turned in an instant from battle maiden to sultry charmer. The violet blood dripping from her horns and fingers left streaks in her hair. Irene wasn’t quite in the right state of mind to decide whether the blood added to the charm or upped her intimidation factor.

“The rest of you performed adequately. Though Irene,” Catherine said, turning, “should something go obviously wrong again, next time don’t get closer to the circle. I believe that ordeal would have been ended much sooner had my arm not been caught while getting you away.”

Irene grit her teeth. Less because of the admonishment–which she probably deserved–and more because of the increasingly painful ache in her arm. Still, she nodded an acknowledgment at the succubus.

Lightly tapping on the large ball of ice, Catherine frowned. “Now what do we do about–”

“That isn’t an imp,” someone blurted out.

“How very observant of you,” Catherine said as she rolled her eyes. “Yes, this is not an imp.”

Randal took a step forward. “I told her that the circle was inadequate,” he said with a self-righteous tone in his voice.

Catherine shot him a glare. He wilted, taking a step backwards.

“The circle,” Catherine said, “was flawless. Or at least no flaws that would have mattered.”

Irene tried to straighten up at the slight praise and at Randal being shot down, but the pain in her arm ruined that little action. Instead, she looked on as she kept her arm as still as possible.

“I could feel the shackles,” Catherine said. “They might not have kept me in, but they would have given me more pause than they gave our ugly friend here.” She patted the giant ice cube. “And the circle was keyed properly for imps. Nothing else should have been able to come through.”

“Then what is that?” said one of the older students with an exceptionally unnecessary gesture towards the ice.

“I haven’t the slightest idea.”

The entire classroom was struck dumb by that single proclamation. A few looked at one another with incredulity.

Irene frowned at the ice ball. Demons had such a variety in appearances and there were so many different ones that she had no clue where to start in identifying the creature.

Humans, for the most part, all had two arms, two legs, a head, and a body connecting it all together. Most humans had hair on their head, two eyes, a nose, a mouth. There were variances in coloring, hair style, muscle mass, and gender dimorphism, but overall, one could look at a photograph and pick out the humans with ease.

Demons weren’t so homogeneous. Arachne had eight eyes, eight legs, and the body of a spider. Catherine had horns, a tail, and wings like a bat. Lucy the security guard had shown up at the previous class and demonstrated her natural form which looked more like a plate of soggy spaghetti than a living thing.

And they all changed. They could turn into something more human-like. Though in Lucy’s case, Irene was having a hard time seeing her as anything but shaped spaghetti noodles since their last class; Lucy’s uncanny appearance just felt so much more pronounced.

There were a few shared traits according to the book. For instance, demons often had red eyes. Not in one hundred percent of cases. If she had a thousand demons in a hat and picked one at random, Irene would put all of her money on it having red eyes.

Irene blinked as she realized another shared trait. One that the book said had no known deviance.

“That thing isn’t a demon.”

“Very astute,” Catherine said as she turned to Irene. “Much more so than whoever said that it wasn’t an imp. What gave it away?”

“Its blood. The book said that demons all had black blood without exception. Purple is not black.”

“Yes, the first and most obvious thing. Well, while it is injured at least. For me, it was that it has no presence. Demons can sense each other to a degree, you see. This thing doesn’t ping my radar in the slightest. Though it does make me somewhat queasy.”

“So what is it?” someone asked.

For a moment, Irene wondered if she shouldn’t be trying to learn her classmates’ names. On one hand, this class felt like the sort of thing anonymity might be good for. On the other, it was kind of rude not to.

“Something that a few experts will have to come look at. For now, we need to ensure it doesn’t get loose. The shackles stopped it for a moment, something I find fairly interesting. I’ll find and drag Eva over here to have her set up some real shackles.”

“You can’t do it yourself?”

“I could.” She glanced up to the clock. “But class is over,” she said with a shrug. “Not really my responsibility now. Though I guess I should do something.” She hummed lightly for a moment before sighing. “Before I find Eva, I’ll pull our illustrious security guards over to keep an eye on it. In the meantime, if whatever water mages we have here could keep the ice from melting, that might be a good idea.”

Catherine stepped away from the ball of ice as one girl stepped up to it with her wand drawn.

The succubus started towards the door.

For a moment, Irene was sure that she had been forgotten. Catherine tossed on a bathrobe before she walked straight up to the door. As she placed her hand on the handle, she started turning back to her human form, ridding herself of her horns and tail as part of the process.

She stopped just short of turning the handle with a glance over her shoulder.

“I suppose you need to be taken to a nurse?”

Irene nodded eagerly. She tried to get to her feet on her own and wound up bumping her shoulder against the leg of a desk. Clamping down on the cry of pain that wanted to escape, Irene grit her teeth.

She didn’t want to give the rest of the class any more reason to think less of her.

A gentle hand gripped Irene’s shoulder–the one that wasn’t dislocated–and helped her to her feet.

Keeping her hand in place, Catherine looked out over the six remaining students in their class. “Anyone else need an escort to the nurse?”

She didn’t even wait for a response before directing Irene to the door.

“In that case, water mages stick around until someone from security shows up. Everyone else do whatever.”

Getting to the infirmary wasn’t much trouble. After stumbling once and bumping her arm against that desk, Irene was extremely grateful that Catherine had come back for her. Having some support helped a lot.

Along the way, they passed by one of the security guards–the elf.

For having been injured enough to require critical attention, he wasn’t looking too bad. Two full months had passed, plenty of time to recover.

Still, his lustrous hair hadn’t quite grown back all the way.

“Daenir,” Catherine snapped.

The elf started at her harsh voice. He blinked once before realizing who was addressing him. “Yes, ma’am?”

“I’ve told you before not to call me that.” Catherine didn’t even attempt to disguise her irritation.

“Of course. Sorry ma’am.”

“Call up one of the specialists and get them to room A-43. If they haven’t dropped everything and arrived in five minutes, Zagan will have words. And get out of my sight,” she added almost as an afterthought.

He complied with her first request immediately, pulling out a small cellphone and making the call.

Catherine started walking again before he could leave. She kept Irene in a firm grip as they moved away.

“Excellent,” Catherine said with a grin. “I was worried I would have to hunt one of them down. That’s one task complete. Now to finish up with you and then find Eva.” Mumbling under her breath, she said, “stupid girl needs a cellphone.”

Irene kept silent, though she agreed on that. Jordan and Catherine both had one, so it wasn’t like demons were allergic to the things.

The infirmary was only a quick walk from where they left the security guard. Some students, Irene knew, visited the place every month or so with various injuries. Irene was quite glad that she had avoided childish hallway fights. She didn’t find the idea of catching a lightning bolt in the back very pleasing, even one that tickled no more than a nine-volt battery.

She had only been to the infirmary twice. Once with an injured wrist, thanks to that idiot Drew, and again thanks to her own idiocy in running aimlessly while the Academy was swarming with fake demons.

The second time she had been brought in unconscious.

So when she walked in and the nurse on duty, Nurse Post, turned to her with a knowing smile, Irene was slightly surprised.

“Irene Coggins,” Nurse Post said, “what seems to be the trouble?”

“Her arm,” Catherine said before Irene could open her mouth. “She slipped down a set of stairs.”

“And you brought her in yourself? Why Catherine, you had better watch yourself. It sends the wrong impression. One might think you cared about someone other than yourself.”

“You could say that I’ve taken a special interest in this one.”

Nurse Post blinked. A somewhat odd look with one of her eyes hidden behind a cross-taped gauze patch. Her face blanked for a moment as her single red eye wandered to Irene, looking her up and down.

“But,” Catherine said, “I’ve got things to do. Fix her up.”

She let go of Irene, pushing her into the seat as she moved away. She took one step away.

And paused.

Catherine’s hand reached out, gripping Irene’s good shoulder like a vice. She bent down and leaned in close to Irene.

Too close.

Her lips brushed against Irene’s ear as she spoke.

“Don’t let what happened scare you away. I’ll see you next class.”

Irene blinked and Catherine was gone. The door clicked shut leaving only two occupants in the room.

“Well, that was interesting.”

Irene turned to the nurse with an eyebrow raised.

“But never mind for now. Your arm is dislocated,” she said, eye wandering to the disturbing bulge in Irene’s shoulder. “A simple dislocation. I would say that most of your tissues and nerves are still in place, just shifted. We can pop it back into place without much trouble. It will hurt for a moment with some lingering ache, but should be fine otherwise. Would you like some painkillers?”

Irene didn’t hesitate in her answer. “If it isn’t too much trouble.”

Nurse Post chuckled to herself as she turned to a potion cabinet. “Drink it down quick,” she said as she handed a vial to Irene. “You’ll have general numbness for about an hour. Overkill? Maybe. But we need to move fast before you swell up too much. That creates all kinds of complications.”

The potion tasted a lot like rubber. Flavorless chewing gum in a liquid form. Not very pleasant. Luckily, the numbing dampened Irene’s sense of taste almost immediately. The rest of her body soon followed.

As the potion took effect, Nurse Post laid out a large mat on the floor. She guided Irene over to it and had her lay down on top.

“That potion had a slight muscle relaxant, but I’d still like you to keep as relaxed as possible. I’m going to turn your arm nice and slowly,” she said, taking Irene’s hand into her own.

Placing her other hand at Irene’s elbow to keep it from moving, she started moving Irene’s hand away from her chest.

Every now and again, the muscles in Irene’s shoulder would have a small spasm.

“Sorry,” Irene said after the third time. “I’m trying not to.”

Nurse Post just smiled. “Oh don’t worry, it is expected. Now, we are getting to the point where your shoulder will slide back into position. There might be a light snapping–”

Irene winced, more out of shock than pain, as her arm snapped back to where it was supposed to be. She tried to move it almost immediately.

Nurse Post gripped her arm and held it steady. “Let’s get you a sling before you start moving around. You should keep it on until the inflammation dies down.”

While the nurse moved to find a sling, Irene propped herself up.

“What was all that about Catherine caring?”

“Oh, not much. Dean Turner hired her on last year. She’s attended all the staff meetings and maintains the reception desk. Yet she’s never really interacted with any other staff. It has become something of a running joke among us that the public face of Brakket is so against socializing.

“Of course, that was before I learned a few things that shed some light on the situation,” she said as she pulled a pale blue sling from a drawer. “But that’s neither here nor there. Arm out, carefully if you would.”

She attached the sling around Irene’s arm and neck. “I’d like to keep you here for about the hour it will take for your potion to expire. Your deadened senses could be problematic. You might leave you hand on a burner and not notice. Apart from that, we should make sure your swelling starts subsiding. I can offer you a bed or a desk for homework.”

“No, that’s fine. I have an essay to finish for Professor Carr anyway. Though I need my bag.” Irene pulled out her cellphone intending to call Shelby and have her grab it.

But that would mean explaining how she had become injured in the first place. That was impossible. Catherine had used the excuse about stairs, but even that was embarrassing enough on its own.

“On second thought, I am fairly tired. Perhaps I’ll just take a nap.”

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006.007

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Eva kicked back in her chair, flipping a page in her blood magic book. It wasn’t an extremely comfortable seat, being a simple wooden seat she had dragged over. There wasn’t any padding on it and its back was far too low.

Padding didn’t matter much. Her legs were stiff carapace and her butt had been reinforced–for lack of a better word–around where her legs met her skin. It was far from the worst chair she had ever sat in. The most uncomfortable aspect was the hole that was still in her side.

Eva had filled it completely full of blood and hardened parts to give some structure, but it didn’t come close to proper skin. Reading, at least, took her mind off the pain.

And pain had been a big deal. It hadn’t hurt quite so much in the hour following her fight. Something that Eva chalked up to adrenaline. And then there was the pain in her wrist and legs and everywhere else. She was sore. Everywhere.

Considering all of that, a more comfortable chair might have done some good. But she could push all of that away. Blood mages were no strangers to pain.

Really, the worst thing was the lighting. Ylva’s prison wasn’t a dank dungeon filled with moss and dripping water. It was, however, a far cry from a proper reading room.

Arachne forewent a chair entirely. She simply sat on the stone floor and rested against the back wall. Never once in their hour of sitting had she taken a single one of her eight red eyes off of their prisoner. In fact, she had hardly moved at all. Her stillness was almost uncanny.

Still, she was out of her room and at Eva’s side. A nice change from how it had been the last few months.

That was something she could thank Sister Cross for.

In a very silent sort of way.

Pausing in her book, Eva took a moment to look over the sleeping prisoner.

During the brief hour that Eva had taken to focus on herself and her own injuries, Sister Cross had done something prior to passing out.

Her flesh was still torn off in long strips, but the remaining skin was slowly crawling over the spots where it had been torn. Somewhat reminiscent of how Eva healed herself with blood magic, though on a much larger scale.

But it was slow. Molasses slow. It had been almost another hour since she got back from tending to herself and Sister Cross’ newly created skin was only a few hairs up her arm. At the rate she was going, it probably wouldn’t be fixed for a few weeks at best.

When Shalise had half her hand eaten by a zombie, it had taken a healer from the Elysium Order to mend it. So Eva wasn’t too surprised to find Sister Cross healing herself. The speed did surprise her.

Shalise had never gone into much detail about her own experience having her body mended. Eva had always imagined it had been some nun waving her hands with some white light for a few minutes.

Now she was starting to reconsider that. Shalise had a lot less to mend, true, but this was agonizingly slow.

It was for that reason that Eva had put a hold on her Locate And Slash Or Murder Sawyer With Blood Magic plan and pulled out a book on beneficial blood rituals. She still intended to drop Sister Cross into her domain at her earliest convenience, but dropping her on Shalise looking like she had just been through a meat grinder seemed in poor taste.

Aside from that, Eva still had a hole in her side. A painful, anti-magic hole. Neither she nor Arachne quite knew what to do about it. She had already found a few flesh mending rituals–Sister Cross could wait in pain a little longer, just as punishment for attacking Eva–but even if they could power through the lightning’s magic eating aftereffects, the rituals did not mend or regrow bone.

Frankly, Eva was quite certain that blood magic wasn’t exactly designed for bones.

Still, no harm in double checking. Well, no harm aside from what Sister Cross was feeling.

So no harm at all.

“Nel mentioned a guest.”

Eva refrained from jumping only because she had kept a mild awareness on her blood sight. Ylva had approached from behind in absolute silence and only spoke once she closed the distance to a few feet.

Closing her book, Eva stood and gave her full attention to Ylva. Eva doubted the hel would call her a friend, but she did believe that they were on thoroughly cordial terms. Still, Eva had dragged in a prisoner and used a cell without permission; no sense in taking the chance at causing further offense.

That said guest riled Ylva’s pet up just made it more important not to be brazen or offensive.

“Ylva,” Eva said with a slight nod. Gesturing towards the occupied cell, she said, “Sister Cross. Shalise’s mother.”

Stepping in front of the cell, Ylva peered inside. “The one sharing her body with a cambion,” she stated, more to herself than anything. “We see the resemblance.”

“I apologize for bringing her into your domain without asking. You were gone and I lacked the facilities to store a hostile teleporter.”

“See that it does not happen again,” Ylva said without taking her eyes off the contents of the cell.

Eva merely nodded. The words weren’t said in a harsh tone or with anger and it was a perfectly understandable request. She wouldn’t want to come home only to find an enemy sitting around her room.

“You inflicted these injuries?”

“In a manner of speaking. It was more of a teleport oversight followed by her being within my wards and not keyed in.”

Looking away from Sister Cross, Ylva asked, “We were under the impression that your blood wards were deadly.”

“She’s an Elysium Order nun. They’ve got really strong shields. It lasted long enough for me to shut off my wards.”

“Elysium Order?” Ylva turned back to the cell. “Her attire is lacking for such a station.”

A set of robes appeared within the cell, looking very similar to the red and black attire that both Nel and Alicia wore. They draped themselves over the edge of the bed.

“You have quite a collection of nuns,” Eva said, not entirely sure of Ylva’s intentions. “While I don’t exactly care if you collect this one, I don’t think she would be very happy to join up.”

“Ali did not believe she would serve Us in the beginning, yet serves Us she does.”

Eva bit her lip. “Are you… certain about that?”

Ylva glanced over with one eyebrow raised. “Your meaning?”

“I mean she appears to serve you now, but…” Eva trailed off, not entirely sure how to broach the subject. After Nel had mentioned her concerns, Eva had spent a while thinking on the subject. This wasn’t how she had planned to bring it up, but it was a convenient segue.

She gave a quick glance to Arachne only to receive a shrug in return. A lot of good you are, Eva mentally sighed.

After casting her blood sight and regular sight around to check for any hint of the former nun in question and finding no trace of her, Eva took a deep breath. “She seems unstable, to a degree. I just want to make sure she isn’t going to betray you–” or me, “–in the future.”

“We will not tolerate betrayal.”

“No,” Eva said. “Of course not.”

Eva let the topic drop. Even if Alicia tried to kill Ylva, it was doubtful that she would succeed in doing any harm. In fact, it really wasn’t any of her business. Alicia was Ylva’s servant and therefore, Ylva’s problem. She could handle it herself.

“Anyway,” Eva said, “I was planning on dropping her into my domain with Shalise after she had healed a bit. Unless you had a better idea?”

Ylva shook her head side to side. Slightly. The movement was subtle enough that Eva almost missed it. Taking her eyes off of the cell, she turned to fully face Eva. “No. We find no issue with that plan.”

“Good,” Eva said, half-surprised that Ylva hadn’t objected on the grounds of adding another servant to her collection. “I’ll keep an eye on her as much as possible until then. You don’t think there will be any issues keeping her here, do you?”

“So long as she isn’t removed from the cell, she will not be able to affect anything outside of the cell. We suggest you keep her contained.”

Eva frowned slightly, but nodded. That might put a damper on her plan to heal Sister Cross with a blood ritual. Oh well, Eva thought, not feeling vindictive in the slightest, she’ll just be in pain for a little longer.

Zoe walked into the prison before Eva could verbally respond to Ylva’s suggestion. Her normally impeccable hair had been tossed up in disarray, like it had been an extraordinarily windy day.

She walked up to them, footsteps about as heavy as her breathing. She leaned up against the wall with a small sigh. “Great,” she said to her captive audience, “I need another shower.”

“You smell pleasant.”

Zoe’s eyes flicked over to Ylva with a questioning glance. “I… um…”

“Like a campfire,” Eva offered after taking a deep breath for herself. “A very pine-woody campfire.”

“Ah,” Zoe said, confusion disappearing with a nod. “We got your little accident under control.”

“Mine? I didn’t even use fire magic.” Eva thumbed at the cell. “And I didn’t ask to be attacked either.”

“Be that as it may, you could have at least sent off a message to us earlier.” With an exasperation-filled sigh, Zoe glanced over into the cell. Immediately, she winced. “She looks… Is she going to be alright?”

“Fine enough,” Eva said. “She’s actually mending her skin on her own. Maybe I’ll toss in a few potions if she is on her best behavior.”

“Really?” Zoe said, pressing closer to the cell for a better look. After a moment of inspection and apparently not finding what she was looking for, Zoe frowned. “Are you sure?”

“It is excruciatingly slow, but yes.”

Zoe hummed for a moment before pulling away. “Alright,” she said slowly as she turned to face Eva. “Now, what exactly happened and what are we going to do about her?”

Sighing, Eva wondered if she shouldn’t just call in everyone for a quick meeting. It would save a lot on the repetition.

Unfortunately for Eva, Ylva turned her attention towards Eva as well. Resigned, she started explaining everything from the start.

It was all Eva could do to keep in her irritation when Wayne wandered in fifteen minutes later asking what had happened.

— — —

Irene’s arm trembled as she sketched out a wide circle on the floor. The chalk in her hands left a trail of excess dust from the unsteady pressure, much of which smeared under her sweaty palms. Droplets of sweat fell from her brow, landing on her chalk and further marring her circle.

“You call that a circle? Looks more like an egg.”

Pausing for a moment, Irene looked at her drawing. It looked great. She had used string attached to her chalk and the center point. Unless the school had some computerized circle drawing laser machine, it was as perfect of a circle as anyone would be getting.

In fact, glancing over some of the other groups’ summoning circles, Irene was sure that hers was by far the best even taking into account the sweat droplets and other minor errors.

Gritting her teeth, Irene shot a glare at her partner, Randal Hemwick.

He sat on top of one of the tables that had been shoved aside, lightly swinging his dangling feet as he frowned at her drawing. Apart from constant criticisms, he hadn’t offered the slightest bit of help. And his criticisms were more complaints than anything useful.

Though him not helping was mostly her fault.

“I don’t want to summon a demon with something that shoddy,” he said, brushing a hand through his light gray hair. “Couldn’t you add some flourish to some of the designs? If your circle works at all, any demons we summon would be offended at your poor craftsmanship. And you’re so slow. Look,” he pointed, “those two groups are already done.”

Following his finger, Irene frowned. Had they looked at the book more than once? Despite her not having the actual summoning part of the circle memorized, she could see plentiful errors in the shackles. And those, as she firmly believed, were by far the most important part if people wanted to stay alive.

“Go draw your own if you hate it so much,” Irene said, grumbling more to herself than for her ‘partner’ to hear.

He heard anyway. “Aww, Irene. I would, but then who would summon your demon for you?”

Irene winced before falling silent. That had been their agreement. She would draw the entire summoning array and he would do the summoning.

But when he put it like that, it made it sound like she was frightened.

She was. Still, he didn’t need to say it so loud.

Choosing to ignore him, Irene returned to drawing out the lines, curves, circles, and so on. Almost every mark she made on the floor got double-checked in the book.

“No!”

The sudden shout caused Irene to jump. Her chalk went sliding across a small portion of her circle, ruining the last five minutes of work.

Sighing, she looked over to what caused the disturbance.

“If I can walk through your shackles without even trying, an imp will overpower them without breaking a sweat.” Catherine swiped her high-heeled foot through the circle on the ground, ruining perhaps the entire hour’s worth of work. “Do it again or watch another group.”

With that said, the succubus wandered off to evaluate another circle.

That was a relief at least. When Catherine had announced that today they would change the fact that this diablery class contained no diabolists, Irene had worried a lot that she was going to take up her usual routine of not supervising the students. She would feel much better had Eva shown up–Eva seemed to be far more responsible of the two, a scary thought on its own–but an active Catherine was good enough so far.

Picking up a fresh corner of her cleaning cloth, Irene set to work removing all traces of her mistake. It didn’t take long, and redrawing the affected lines as she erased sped up the process by skipping over the need to double-check in the book.

She still did, of course. But not until everything had been redrawn.

Setting down her book, Irene jumped.

Randal had slid off of the desk and was leaning uncomfortably close.

“So,” he hissed in her ear, “what would happen if we drew out a set of shackles and hid it under a mat in front of the door?”

Irene blinked. Shooting him an incredulous look, she said, “how could you not have read the book?”

It was Randal’s turn to blink. He opened his mouth to respond.

Irene talked over him. “Shackles can’t have anything but air between them and the demon. Even covering the circle with a thin sheet of tissue paper will break the shackles.”

“It was–”

“Are you an idiot?”

“What?”

“This isn’t some normal class where the worst you’ll do is burn down a desk before the professor intervenes. These are demons. Deadly dangerous creatures that don’t care about humans except in how much they can exploit us. They’ll kill us without blinking an eye. And you haven’t even read the book?

“In addition you, what, want to play a prank on Catherine? Are you insane?” Closing her eyes, Irene sighed. I wish Eva were here.

Of course, if Eva had shown up, they probably wouldn’t be in this situation. Summoning a demon wasn’t supposed to happen for another month at the earliest.

“I–”

Irene snapped open her eyes, cutting him off with just a glare. She narrowed her eyes at the idiot in front of her. “You know what? Do go make your own circle. Then you can add all the flourishes you want. When you get kicked out for your disrespect and general idiocy, don’t come crying to me.”

For a moment, Irene thought he was going to object. And loudly at that. Maintaining her glare for a few moments put a stop to that.

Randal got to his feet. Hands in his pockets, he marched over to another group. One of the groups that had finished already, but that hadn’t been looked over by Catherine just yet.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Irene turned back to the task of finishing her circle.

She froze as a thought occurred to her. Now alone in her group, there was no one but her to perform the actual summoning.

With a look at the clock, Irene decided that no, they would not be summoning anything today. At least not her. She had a good quarter of the circle remaining still. If she timed it perfectly, she would only just be finishing as the doors unlocked.

Then next time, Eva could put an end to this madness.

Filled with relief and a great deal of pressure removed, Irene set to work. She still wanted to do a good job. Catherine had trusted her enough to offer her a slot in the class, despite her being the youngest person in the room. She could pay that back with a proper set of shackles and the summoning circle.

Even if one of the other groups finished their circle to Catherine’s standards and started summoning, the circles they had been directed to draw were specifically designed to call imps. A hierarchy of common demons found within the text had imps at essentially the lowest place. Non-sentient blobs of slime were apparently more dangerous than imps.

Irene was beyond relieved that Catherine hadn’t directed them to summon up cerberuses or anything.

With the circles being specifically for imps, no verbal request or tricky magic channeling was required. Only the imps’ enticement.

Honestly, what would an imp ever want with a rusted copper coin? Did they collect them? Hoard them off in some vault?

And it apparently did not matter what kind of coin it was. Anything from some ancient Greek coin to a penny. So long as it was a currency, predominantly copper, and tarnished–not necessarily rusted as copper didn’t truly rust, though that was the term the book used. The jar on Catherine’s desk was full of green pennies, so presumably they would work.

“Class,” Catherine spoke just as Irene was making the last few marks on her circle, “I am disappointed.”

She moved up to her desk, taking up a reclining pose against it. “Two hours, you’ve had to work on your summoning circles. Two hours of failure. Your shackles are lacking. Your circles couldn’t summon a demonic gnat.”

Irene quirked an eyebrow. She didn’t know there was such a thing as a demonic gnat.

“You’re here to learn proper diablery practices. You may not have known that initially, but nothing is keeping you here. Children, your contract ensures your silence, not your presence. If diablery does not appeal to you, you’re welcome to never return.

“Of the nine of you, split into four groups, only one managed to complete their circle to my standards.”

Glancing around the other circles, Irene started to get a sinking feeling in her stomach. Irene distinctly recalled Catherine moving between each circle, making disparaging comments at each. The only circle that had been left alone was hers.

Whipping her head to the clock on the wall, Irene almost groaned. She had misjudged her speed. There were still ten minutes left of class. Plenty of time to summon something.

That sinking feeling only grew as Irene turned back to find Catherine staring right at her.

One of the rusted coins spun at the tip of Catherine’s sharp fingernail. With a light flick of her finger, the coin went sailing across the room.

It rolled along the floor before losing momentum and falling flat on its side.

Right in the center of Irene’s summoning circle.

“Go on,” Catherine said. “Channel your magic into the circle. Become the first true diabolist of the class.”

“I, um…” Irene took a step back from her circle.

Oh great, she thought, looking around the room. Everyone was staring at her. Some with curiosity but most had a look of envy. Randal was less staring and more glaring.

Alright, Irene thought, Catherine is right there. It’s just an imp. Zoe killed an imp all by herself last summer without problems. The whole class working together could stop it if it goes out of control.

Taking a deep breath, Irene moved back up to the summoning circle. She knelt down at the edge and shut her eyes–more to block out the sight of the watching students than any part of the ritual. With another deep breath, Irene started pushing her magic into the circle.

She had never used a ritual circle before. Summoning circles operated much the same way, from what she understood from books. There was a strange tingling sensation that was completely absent when she used a regular wand.

When she opened her eyes, Irene almost jumped back away from the circle again. The runes and markings she had drawn on the tiled floor were moving, rotating around the center point she had used to mark her initial circle. None of the symbols in the circle seemed to move at the same pace as the rest of it. Outside runes moved slower while the geometric shapes towards the inside spun around like the blades of a fan.

Irene did note that the shackles weren’t rotating. The shackle lines glowed faintly even in the light of the classroom. Otherwise, they were the same as when she had drawn them.

She actually did jump back when a gaping black maw erupted from the rotating circle. Shark-like teeth chomped around the coin.

A snake-like appendage erupted from beneath the circle. Despite coming through the floor as if through water, the appendage clamped down on the tiles like the hard floor it was.

More tentacles pulled the rest of the body through the floor until the entire thing was above ground.

With all the snake-like tentacles hanging off of its body, it looked something like a cross between Medusa and a large dog. Definitely not what an imp was supposed to look like.

Four red eyes glared around the room, moving from one silent student to the next. Settling on Irene, the dog slammed into the barrier formed by the shackles.

Irene jumped back again, letting out a startled shriek.

Her shackles lost some of their glow, flickering lightly as the demon reared its head into the barrier again.

Irene only vaguely heard the startled shouts coming from the other students. All of her attention was focused on a desperate feeding of more of her magic into the shackles.

Though the glow strengthened for a moment, the shackles flickered again as the demon rhythmically pounded into the wall.

“Help,” Irene said, glancing towards Catherine.

The succubus was wide-eyed with her mouth slightly agape, almost pressing herself away from the circle and into her desk.

Irene didn’t have time to consider the implications.

A resounding sound of glass shattering preceded her shackles going dark.

<– Back | Index | Next –>

006.006

<– Back | Index | Next –>

Zoe came out of between.

Taking a step forward, Zoe heard the light slap of her shoes in a shallow puddle. Her eyes widened in horror and shock as she noticed the pool of red coating the surface of the floor.

The Gate Room, as Eva called it, was the designated entryway for all arriving teleports. There weren’t all that many people cleared to just show up inside the women’s ward. At least none that would find the experience pleasant–Eva’s wards weren’t the kind one wanted to stumble across. It basically amounted to just herself, Eva, and Wayne.

Because of the limited amount of people who used the room, Zoe immediately thought of Eva. Something had happened to the girl, again, and she just barely scraped out of it alive, again.

A more rational section of Zoe’s mind reminded her that Eva’s blood was black, or close enough that this pool of blood couldn’t be hers.

Wayne then? His meeting should have finished during the previous hour. But had he been injured, he wouldn’t have come here. He would have gone to one of the school nurses or a real hospital. Judging by the amount of blood, he had better have gone to a real hospital. That was not a trivial amount.

A small shudder ran through Zoe’s back. Wayne might have come here first if it was something related to demons.

Zoe slammed open the door and strode out of the room, not even bothering to wipe her feet on the mat–it was already soaked to the core with blood. As she moved, she fished her cellphone out of her pocket and took a moment to shoot off a quick message to Wayne.

Blood in the women’s ward teleport gate. Yours? Know anything?

Two sets of bloody footprints led through the common room and out the exit. Both were of the distinctive, almost skeletal imprints left by Arachne’s feet. One set was slightly smaller than the other, matching Eva’s size.

Zoe followed them in a run. They tapered off a few feet outside of the women’s ward, but that didn’t matter. There were only two real destinations outside of the women’s ward and Zoe couldn’t see a reason to head towards Devon’s building.

Unless all the blood was from him.

A faint buzz in her hand pulled her out of her thoughts and back towards her cellphone.

Not mine. Emergency?

Zoe’s thumb hesitated on the touch pad. Was it an emergency? Possibly. That amount of blood would certainly mean that there was an emergency for someone.

Maybe. Looking for source. Will be inside Ylva’s domain/no cell shortly.

Shaking her head, Zoe decided to press on towards Ylva’s domain. If nothing else, Nel could point her in the right direction.

She didn’t get another reply before her signal dropped to zero. Inside Ylva’s domain, Zoe was surprised to find the main room entirely empty. The throne lay bare and neither Alicia nor Nel hung off its sides.

Zoe almost started off towards the augur room, the location where Nel would most likely have been. She stopped as some movement caught her eye.

The augur in question paced back and forth outside one of the archways. Her pallor was sickly and her hands rubbed one another constantly as she mumbled something to herself.

“What happened?” Zoe called out as she ran over to the archway.

Nel froze in her pacing, back towards Zoe. She turned slowly. Opening her mouth, Nel started to speak.

“It’s already been an hour?”

Nel’s mouth snapped shut as both women turned to the new voice.

Eva stood in the doorway, slightly hunched over with all of her weight on one foot. Arachne stood at her side, offering support with one arm around Eva’s shoulders.

Both were coated in a decent amount of red blood.

Ignoring the demon for the moment, Zoe focused on her student.

A portion of Eva’s shirt had burned away. Zoe immediately recognized the marks on her skin. The tree branch-like pattern marring her thigh and waist was all too familiar to anyone who used lightning. The gaping hole filled with what appeared to be black rods at the center of the lightning mark was slightly less familiar.

Eva moved her hand up, slightly covering the hole. That only served to draw Zoe’s attention to the girl’s arm. A bracelet of lightning marks wrapped around her chitin plates. The marks went up towards her elbow, turning bright red as they crossed over from carapace to skin.

“What happened?” Zoe repeated, this time to Eva.

“Met an old friend. You remember Sister Cross.”

Zoe blinked. Of course she remembered. But… “She did this to you?” Zoe gestured towards where Eva had covered her hip.

“Tried to do more. I’m mostly certain that she was going to kill me until I threatened her with Shalise.”

“Threatened–”

“She did attack me first,” Eva said, indignant. “Viciously and maniacally, I should add. She’s lucky I didn’t kill her. Twice. Though the second time would have been accidentally.”

“Accidentally? The blood?”

“All hers. I kind of forgot about my wards when teleporting her here. And the teleport wasn’t pleasant on its own,” Eva said, glancing down at herself with a sigh. “Yet another shirt I’ve ruined.”

Zoe winced. She hadn’t forgotten Genoa’s screams when she had first arrived at the prison. “Is she alright?”

“Alright enough. She’s been stuffed full of potions. Apparently she has a method of healing herself as well, though I don’t know if it will work in Ylva’s prison. I couldn’t get more than two words out of her mouth before she started shouting at me.”

Enhancing her hearing, Zoe shut her eyes to listen to the room beyond. Apart from slightly laborious breathing, there wasn’t a peep. “Seems quiet now.”

“She’s gagged.”

“Ah.”

Zoe stood there as she considered how to react. She couldn’t be sure without meeting the nun in person, but the woman known as Sister Cross had always struck Zoe as being a level-headed person during her brief tenure as self-proclaimed protector of Brakket City. Even during the fight with Zagan, she had radiated a certain calm aura up until the last few minutes when her powers failed her.

‘Viciously and maniacally’ attacking Eva didn’t sound like her style.

Eva reacted first. “Postponing our meeting might be for the best,” she said with a wince on her face. “I’m going to miss my other appointments for the day as well. Need to get some medical attention for myself, though I’m not sure what.”

Zoe shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Right, of course. I–”

“You’re just going to leave her here? Alone?” Nel said in a high-pitched shriek.

“She’s in Ylva’s prison,” Eva said, already limping by with the aid of Arachne. “It’s probably the safest place for her to be for you. And if you’re that scared, I’m sure one of these rooms has a good hiding place you can cower in until Ylva gets back. Besides, I’ll be back after I see to myself. Have to make sure she doesn’t bleed out or anything stupid.”

Nel’s sputtering response went ignored by Zoe. Torn between making sure herself that Sister Cross was okay and ensuring that her student was okay, Zoe decided on keeping near her student.

“Are you going to see a nurse?”

“Not really considering it. As much as half of everyone knows already, I’d still like to keep my exact physiology a secret from the rest.”

“Laura Post knows what you are, so you wouldn’t have to worry about that.”

“I don’t know what she would do for me,” Eva said.

“She could examine you, tell you exactly what is wrong, administer potions.”

“Potions are having less and less effect on me as time goes by. Maybe Wayne can invent some demon-compliant potions that do work–maybe there would even be a market for such a thing in the near future.”

“Don’t joke about that.”

Sighing at Eva’s callous shrug, Zoe pursed her lips together. Her pressed lips twisted into a frown as Eva’s words reminded her of the despicable experiments carried out by Devon Foster.

“We’ve never talked about your… condition,” Zoe hedged. While the topic might be interesting, from a purely theoretical point of view, Zoe couldn’t be sure she wanted to discuss the subject of what amounted to child exploitation.

Eva paused. The arm Arachne had around her shoulder squeezed tighter for a bare moment.

“I don’t know what there is to talk about. I agreed to it and I have no intention of stopping now. In fact, it might be more dangerous to stop.”

“That’s…” Zoe bit her lip. “I just want to make sure you weren’t being coerced into something. That you’re alright.”

I,” Arachne said, voice hard, “will ensure Eva’s well-being. Nothing will bring her harm. This topic is outside your expertise, professor.” The last word came out with venom.

Not literal venom–Zoe wasn’t entirely sure whether or not Arachne was venomous–but metaphorical, verbal venom.

She contained far more ire in that single word than any Zoe had heard her speak in the past. Granted, Arachne didn’t often address Zoe. Especially in the recent months. In fact, this could be the first she had heard Arachne speak at all since the incident involving Genoa.

“Do you get this involved in the personal lives of all of your students?”

Zoe blinked at Arachne’s question, slightly taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“Or is it just that she makes for a fascinating research subject? You and Devon might have a lot in common if you looked past your foolish sense of self-righteousness.”

“Arachne,” Eva said, silencing the demon.

Excuse me,” Zoe said. “No student I have ever had has found themselves in as much trouble as Eva so frequently attracts. Nor am I likely to instruct such a troublemaker–trouble finder,” Zoe corrected at a glare from Eva, “again. Very few children find themselves at the unpleasant end of necromancers and the Elysium Order.”

Eva snorted and mumbled under her breath. “You’re going to have a whole lot more troublemakers if Martina is still the dean in a year’s time.”

Zoe narrowed her eyes in Eva’s direction. The only reason she caught that little tidbit was because of mildly enhanced hearing. “What do you mean by that?”

“You know of her little specialty class, right?”

Shaking her head, Zoe answered, “I do not.”

“Ah, maybe I’ll invite you one of these days.”

Before Zoe could question what she was talking about, Eva continued speaking.

“To answer your original question, no. I’m not going to go find a nurse or a hospital. I’ll fix myself up myself, even if I have to remake my entire side out of molded blood. Though it would be nice if I could regenerate on Arachne’s level… The whole demon transforming thing could at least have that as a payoff.”

Zoe frowned but said nothing. Despite it being her suggestion, she didn’t know what a medical professional could do for Eva. Especially with how uncooperative she would likely be. Slathering on bone regenerating potions might actually do more harm than good, given her hip injury was right where skin met carapace.

“Actually,” Eva said, looking up at Zoe, “could you go back to where we fought? Sister Cross hit me pretty hard,” Eva said, once again gesturing towards her hip. “Between Nel, Sawyer, and my own blood ritual experiments, I’ve been somewhat conscious of leaving pieces of myself around. If you could grab Wayne and have him burn down a section–”

Eva froze, voice catching in her throat. Her eyes grew wide.

For a moment, Zoe was worried that something happened. Heart failure or some other sudden illness. She reached forwards, placing a hand on the young girl’s shoulder.

“Um, if there is even a forest left. Sister Cross might have set a good chunk of it on fire and I might have forgotten until just now.”

Zoe blinked. “She attacked right after the spar?”

“Put up anti-banishment wards, probably while we fought, which have the unfortunate side-effect of breaking my teleportation.”

There hadn’t been a hint of that anywhere. Even with all her enhanced senses on, Zoe hadn’t so much as suspected that someone else had been in the area. And she knew that Eva had a method of sensing any living person within quite a range around her.

“How did we miss her?” Zoe asked, dumbfounded.

Eva shrugged. “I was focused on fighting you. You were as well. Don’t forget that Sister Cross can teleport; it wouldn’t be difficult to stay on the edge of our senses with that. But maybe worry about the fire first?”

“Right,” Zoe said. She swung open the heavy entrance to Ylva’s domain and let Eva head off towards the women’s ward.

As soon as her phone found a signal, it started vibrating like crazy. Six missed messages from Wayne. All despite having told him she was entering Ylva’s domain. After skimming through them, she sent out her responses.

No immediate emergency.

Sister Cross attacked Eva, wound up injured instead.

May need help w/fire. Investigating. Will send location if assistance needed.

Messages on their way, Zoe pulled out her dagger and allowed the world to fall to between.

— — —

Irene lay back in her bed, staring at the ceiling. She traced out a wide circle in the air with her finger.

As far as she understood, shackles were the single most important aspect of dealing with demons. Some might say that summoning circles were the most important, but Irene had already disregarded those ideas–and half of her classmates–as idiots. Sure, there might not be a demon without a summoning circle, but without the shackles, there was no protection. Shackles were the things that kept a summoner alive.

Really, it was some fascinating magic from a purely analytical point of view. Very similar to some of the stuff she had already decided she wanted to do for a profession. Irene had already signed up for enchanting and warding for next year’s electives. Shackles were very much a sort of written ward.

As the book explained, it was technically possible to wave a wand and erect shackles purely through magic. Unfortunately, all but the weakest of demons would break through a magic-based ward almost instantly. Being highly magical creatures, demons required their shackles to be set in stone–so to speak.

Drawing the patterns out in the air didn’t do much for practice however. She really needed to draw it out on a paper to see how it all came together. The boundary, sigils to strengthen the boundary, demonic magic suppressants, thaumaturgical magic wards, and so on and so forth, they all were far too complex to wave about in the air.

But that wasn’t something Irene could do. While drawing on a piece of paper wouldn’t violate any terms of her contract, Shelby would be sure to have questions about what she was doing. Shackles and summoning circles looked like rituals–and they were in a certain sense–but rituals weren’t something Irene had ever expressed much interest in.

Jordan would probably recognize demonic shackles right out.

Irene was already struggling to explain her two-hour twice-a-week absences without violating any of the contract. The terminology was uncomfortably strict about describing any aspect of the class. A good portion of the others didn’t look like the types of people who had many friends, so it probably wasn’t such a big deal for them.

Just her.

So far, ‘reconnecting with Eva’ had worked out well enough. And Eva was actually present, if as a teacher, so it was mostly true.

Irene let her arm flop to her side. The pointless exercise was little more than a time sink until it was time to go. She had already finished her homework for all of her regular classes, but they could always use more studying. Especially the practical side of things, given end of the year exams were a scant few months away.

But there wasn’t time for that now. The classroom doors locked on the hour. Though it wasn’t something she had really decided she wanted to pursue, if she wasn’t there on time, she would fall behind. Irene worked her hardest to keep up in everything no matter what it was.

Halfway out of bed, Irene paused. A jolt of panic sent her almost flying out of bed.

Are there going to be end of the year exams in demon summoning?

There was no room in her schedule for studying for yet another final. If it had an exam, she’d have to reorganize everything. She needed to ask Catherine or Eva as soon as she could.

Irene swung open her dormitory. In her haste, she almost ran face-first into Jordan’s raised fist.

He took a step back, blinking in surprise. “I didn’t even get to knock,” he said, moving his raised hand to brush back a lock of hair.

“Sorry,” Irene mumbled, averting her eyes to one side to avoid looking him in the eye. If there was one thing diablery class was good at, it was making her feel guilty. “I was just on my way to find Eva. Did you need something?”

“Thought you were afraid of Eva,” Jordan said, leaning against the door frame with a joking smile. “Or Arachne, at least. You’ve sure been spending a lot of time with them lately despite that.”

“I’m not afraid of them.” Irene stamped her foot down. “I just… didn’t understand.”

“What changed?”

“Well, she did at least help to save me during that thing,” Irene shuddered slightly at the memory. “I figured I should give her the time of day once in a while. Turns out, we actually have a lot in common.”

That was lying through her teeth.

Crossing her arms, Irene glared at Jordan. “What’s it to you, anyway?”

“Nothing,” he said, holding up a hand. “But speaking of changes, have you seen Shelby around?”

“Not in the last hour or two. I think she has been getting extra tutoring from Professor Carr. Why?”

“It used to be that I could speak at all kinds of odd hours during the day, and she, being always at my side, would hear. That’s not the case so much anymore.”

“Aww,” Irene mock cooed. “You miss my sister?”

This time it was Jordan’s turn to avert his eyes as a light blush surfaced on his cheeks. “I wouldn’t put it in those exact words.”

“I’m sure she would be delighted to hear it.” Irene shuffled past Jordan, shutting the door to her dorm room behind her. “But you’ll have to tell her in person when you next see her. As I said, I’ve a meeting with Eva to get to.”

“Ah, of course,” he said, suddenly looking downtrodden as he stepped aside.

To Irene’s great chagrin, Jordan did not decide to wander off. He ran up alongside Irene and kept pace.

Irene chose to ignore him as much as possible in hopes that he might head off and find something else to do. Something that wasn’t following her all the way to a classroom he couldn’t enter without causing a lot of trouble.

Her efforts were all for naught. Jordan stuck by her side.

Irene was going over excuses to leave him in her head, but wasn’t coming up with anything halfway decent. By the time they hit the ground floor, he was still at her side.

“So, going to be doing anything fun?”

Irene jolted at the sudden attention. Entirely misplaced guilt was making her nervous. There was absolutely no reason to feel like she was doing anything wrong. If anything, he should be the one feeling awkward because of his own dalliances in less than savory magic.

It didn’t help that she was absolutely forbidden from mentioning anything real, despite the fact that Jordan was probably the one person she should be talking with. Or at least, the one person who wouldn’t judge her.

“Nothing,” Irene said, feeling as lame as her one word response.

“Nothing huh?” Jordan allowed a coy smile to slip onto his lips. “No visits to the hot springs in the nude?”

Fire burned in Irene’s cheeks as she whipped her head around to her insolent friend. “Of course not. Nothing means nothing.”

“Hmm? Well,” he cocked his head from one side to the other, “I just worry that you might be being forced into doing things you don’t want to. You’ve had fairly vocal ahh… arguments against her in the past.”

Irene fell silent. He wasn’t exactly wrong.

Though it had been Catherine who dragged her into this, rather than Eva.

In the end, Irene had been the one to read and sign the contract. Nothing had forced her into that.

“No,” Irene eventually answered. “I’m doing this because I want to do this.”

Jordan hummed again, capping it with a small sigh. “And this thing that you want to do is nothing?”

“It is,” Irene said, keeping her voice firm. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jordan waved her off, stopping just inside the dormitory entryway. “Just don’t become a stranger.”

“I’ll try not to.” With a small smile, Irene waved a farewell.

It was a quick trip to the main school building and, from there, a quicker trip to the class room.

Irene slipped inside and took her usual seat. A good half of the class was already in the room thanks to her dawdling with Jordan. Questioning Catherine about end of year exams would have to wait.

The rest of the class filed in shortly after Irene arrived.Only when the door’s lock clicked did Irene notice that Eva was nowhere in sight.

“Leaving me alone with a bunch of degenerate mortals?” Catherine said, loud and clear despite clearly speaking about Irene and the rest of the students. “I’ll feed Eva to hellhounds.”

The irritation on the professor’s face vanished as soon as she finished speaking. It was replaced by thoughtfulness.

A scary look on the succubus.

“Or perhaps,” Catherine said, flashing her teeth in a wide smile, “today’s lesson can be a bit more fun than usual.”

<– Back | Index | Next –>

006.005

<– Back | Index | Next –>

“You’re looking… well,” Eva said.

Sister Cross looked anything but. The last time Eva saw the nun, she was in casual clothes. But the time before that, she had been fighting Zagan. During that fight, she had got somewhat beat up. Torn clothes, broken arm, cuts and scrapes.

Whatever had happened to her was apparently worse than fighting a legitimate devil.

As she was now, Sister Cross looked worse than that fight. Her face had bruises aplenty and her clothes were little more than burlap rags. Worse, several of her injuries looked fresh. Her left arm had a definite fracture in it, but she didn’t appear to notice. One particularly gruesome boil on her cheek had a slather of pus running from it.

Even if she had escaped from some horrific battle, she should have taken care of herself before seeking out more trouble. At the very least, did she have no clothes to change into? She could have stolen some. Charity shops would probably have given her a set of clothes for free just for showing up looking like she did.

Eva’s head snapped back, interrupting her observation, as a fist connected with her right eye.

The hand moved back behind Eva’s head. Gripping a fistful of hair, Sister Cross yanked Eva’s head up to look at each other face-to-face.

“Where is she?”

Pinching her eyes shut, Eva bit down on the pain. “Now, now, no need to get violent–”

The hand holding her hair pulled down, ramming Eva’s forehead against a kneecap. Her vision split in two as Sister Cross pulled her head back up.

“I told you before. One chance. And you blew it.” Sister Cross spoke with her teeth grit together. A vein on her forehead bulged slightly. “Tell me where she is and I’ll kill you fast enough that you won’t feel a thing.”

Eva took a deep breath before responding, buying herself a few extra moments to focus past the hammering in her head. “Don’t you mean or?”

The grip on Eva’s hair tightened and started pulling her back towards Sister Cross’ knee.

This time, Eva was ready.

Eva stepped straight past Sister Cross, reappearing at the nun’s back. Without a moment’s hesitation, Eva clasped her fists together and threw all of her weight into knocking some sense upside Cross’ head.

Sister Cross’ rolled with the blow, tumbling to one side before facing towards Eva.

White light burned out of the nun’s eyes.

Eva stepped again, avoiding the path of a blindingly white bolt of lightning by a split second.

Electricity crackled up and down Sister Cross’ skin. Arcs peeled off of her hands, lancing into the ground around her in jagged patterns.

“Get back here!” Cross shouted as she swung an arm towards Eva. Four prongs of lightning trailed after her hand, moving more like a multiple-tailed whip than any sort of bolt.

Given how much it had hurt to be struck by a single and likely low-powered bolt, Eva wanted to keep her distance from the lashes.

But what to do? Eva could step around all day, especially because Cross was clearly injured and not thinking straight. Running away wouldn’t be an issue either. She could step straight back to the school, or even just far enough to get out from under whatever wards Sister Cross had erected.

But that left an angry nun running around. More than angry. One that wanted to kill her.

Having used up most of her stores of blood in the spar with Zoe, Eva was doubting her ability to effectively fight back. Her fireballs wouldn’t do much good. Not when Wayne had troubles with this same nun while the nun wasn’t fighting at full strength. Her claws wouldn’t be much use either. The shields employed by the Elysium Order were almost as strong as shields formed out of demonic blood.

Her hands had connected with Sister Cross’ head just a moment ago, but that had been before her eyes were lit with the white fire.

Had she memorized the pattern for a transference circle, it might have been possible to lure Sister Cross over the top of one and drop her into Eva’s domain. She would probably calm down, at least a little, with Shalise in front of her. And if not, she would at least be contained.

But she hadn’t memorized it.

That left only one good option.

Negotiation.

“Sister Cross,” Eva shouted, twisting around a spew of white flames, “calm down!”

The nun snarled. Using both hands, she brought two sets of electricity whips around to where Eva had been standing only seconds before.

“You need help and–”

Sister Cross whirled rapidly, orienting every bit of electricity and flames that she had in Eva’s direction.

A good portion of the forest was actually on fire now, limiting the available safe places to teleport to. And not nice red flames, but the Order’s white magic. Eva wasn’t able to manipulate the flames with thaumaturgy.

Eva spun on her heel, spotting and stepping to a far fresher section of the forest.

Cupping her hands, she called back towards Sister Cross as loud as she could. “And Shalise is safe!”

Either the nun failed to hear or she didn’t care. Sister Cross charged full speed through the woods. She kept her arms fully extended as she ran, down and slightly behind her hips. Electricity trailed behind her, licking at the ground and trees she passed. More flames cropped up in her wake.

If Eva didn’t end this soon, there wouldn’t be a forest left. As it was, she needed to find Zoe and have her teleport a water mage in.

Did water even put out white flames?

Zoe would probably have some idea if not.

But this had to end soon.

“I can take you to your daughter, but not while you’re trying to kill me.”

Eva teleported away just as Sister Cross reached her. Not quite fast enough. One tendril of electricity coiled around her wrist.

Pain coursed through her body when she reappeared on the opposite side of the forest.

Letting out a cry of pain, Eva teleported away again. Three rapid steps put her far enough away to give her a moment of time.

Black liquid oozed out of the cracks in her carapace. Right around her wrist were several lightning-shaped marks burned into the chitin. A small segment of the armored plate had come off entirely, revealing the meat underneath.

Eva clamped her good hand over her wrist, putting pressure on it. It didn’t help the pain; it was much like biting down on a bit, the pain was there but something else drew attention from it.

In the distance, Sister Cross continued her maddened charge.

Forget the forest, I’m going to be the one in trouble if this doesn’t end soon.

Eva uncorked her solitary vial of Arachne’s blood. She had to be careful with it. It was all she had.

The blood bobbed in the air around Eva as she weighed her options. There was only so much she could do with so little.

Before Sister Cross reached Eva, she wrapped the blood around her fist and teleported. Leaving her blood behind would be detrimental.

Or would it?

Eva split the blood off into two small globs before teleporting again. She made no move to attack with the blood. Not even the slightest intention crossed her mind. Based on all of her previous experiences in seeing the Elysium Order’s shields in action, she had a theory that they worked off of actual attacks. That was only compounded by the fact that Sister Cross had to push past stray branches as she pressed on in her pursuit.

Sister Cross, unseeing or uncaring, charged right into the blood.

Her shield did not so much as flicker.

It was possible that it was because she had moved into them, rather than Eva attacking her with the blood. Still no real proof of how the shield worked. However it happened, the two balls of blood landed on her tattered shirt.

Some of the blood was immediately rendered unusable because of the frankly disgusting amount of dirt on the woman. Eva redirected the rest of the blood. One glob went straight up her nose while the other wrapped around her mouth.

The electricity hanging off of Sister Cross’ fingers vanished as she brought her hands up to her mouth. Her fingers pried at the liquid clinging to her face.

As Sister Cross’ ungainly fingernails started to dig their way into the seams between her lips and the blood, Eva dug the blood into her skin. Tiny little barbs pierced and latched on.

Finding her efforts stifled, she tried a similar tactic at the blood blocking her nose.

This time, Eva unblocked a single nostril.

Sister Cross drew in a deep breath as fast as she could with only half a nose.

The moment she finished inhaling, Eva blocked it again.

“Now,” Eva said, “you–”

A lightning bolt hit Eva in the hip, spinning her around and knocking her to the ground.

Eva’s efforts to get up were interrupted by a weight landing on her back. A punch against the back of her head had her eating dirt.

“Killing me won’t make it stop,” Eva groaned out as she spat out a mouthful of grass. “Even if you cut an air-hole in your throat, you won’t see Shalise again without me.”

The pressure on her back increased, but there was no actual attack. Through her blood sight, Eva could see the woman’s heart beating faster as she attempted to heave in more air.

“If you get off of me right now, maybe I will let you have a small air hole.” Eva kicked back, trying to knock the nun off of her back.

That only sent a jolt of pain through Eva’s body. Taking a look at her own body through her blood sight revealed quite the disaster around her midsection. About an inch of meat was missing entirely from the edge of her hip inwards. Based on how the blood was flowing, part of the bone was missing as well as some of the carapace from her legs.

Not a good sight to see. Too big of an injury to heal away as she often did with smaller cuts. Warm blood was pooling on the forest floor, soaking into her clothes, and smearing over Sister Cross’ thighs.

It took almost a full five minutes before Sister Cross finally got off of Eva. It was less ‘got off’ and more like she slumped off to one side, but the end effect was the same.

Gritting her teeth in preparation for the pain, Eva withdrew her dagger and jammed it into her side. She carefully kept herself from bleeding out using her control over her own blood. A small portion flew over to reinforce the blood around Sister Cross’ mouth.

Though the nun didn’t need it. Her eyes were closed and her heart rate, while still elevated, had dropped.

Eva moved the blood from her nose. It hung off of her face like a mustache, but cleared her nose entirely.

After a heart-wrenching moment of fear that she would have to perform mouth-to-mouth on the woman just to get her breathing again, Sister Cross’ body took over with a sudden lurch of fresh air.

With a small sigh of relief, Eva kept a careful eye on the woman. No sign of her being conscious surfaced. If she was awake, she was doing a very good job of playing possum.

Unfortunately, if she was unconscious, that left an injured Eva with a full-grown woman to lug around.

And she was injured in both her hand and her waist.

For the moment, Eva tended to herself. She couldn’t do much about the missing bone, but she could at least complete her veins and arteries with hardened blood so as to keep her from bleeding out if she let her concentration slip.

It took more than a few minutes of strengthening the passageways to her satisfaction. They needed to be able to survive a moderate jostle while still being flexible enough to move in. As it was, she would have to keep her hip straightened out for the most part.

Fixing her blood vessels did nothing for the pain.

Still, with as much self-maintenance as she could do completed, Eva turned to the probably unconscious nun.

“Now,” Eva said to herself through grit teeth, “what do we do with you?”

After a few minutes of deliberation, Eva made her decision. She propped up the nun, slung an arm around her shoulder, and started dragging.

Every so often, Eva suffered through the debilitating headache and lurch of the world as her teleport failed. It wasn’t quite so bad on repeated attempts as it had been the first time. Either the wards were weakening with distance or with the brute force of her teleport attempts.

Ten minutes into dragging Sister Cross through the woods and Eva was starting to get nervous. The nun’s heart rate and breathing showed signs of her waking up. She still hadn’t moved significantly on her own, but she could wake up at any moment.

Eva’s next teleport attempt nearly got through the barrier. She could feel it; both in that it caused very little mental pain and that it tainted the air around her with the pungent scent of brimstone.

She lugged Sister Cross’ unconscious carcass another ten feet, built up her magic, and teleported.

Eva’s method of teleportation wasn’t pleasant at the best of times. The sound of meat tearing and slopping against hard floors combined with the screams–Eva wanted to say ‘of the damned’ but that didn’t seem likely; the teleport took them through Hell, not through Death’s realm–burned on her very being. Then there was the more literal burning of her flesh. Skin seared off down to her bones.

Over time, Eva had either grown accustomed to the pain of having her skin flayed off or her increasingly demonic nature was protecting her from the ill effects. She could keep a level head through the pain and come out only slightly shaky when she arrived at the gate.

Sister Cross had neither her demonic nature nor her pain tolerance.

The nun’s eyes snapped open the moment the real world had been replaced with a tunnel of flesh. She tried to scream. Eva’s blood kept her mouth sealed for the moment, but it wouldn’t hold under the nun’s fright. Only moments after the teleport had begun and her skin and lips were already tearing from the strain.

Where Eva felt her skin incinerated during the teleport, Sister Cross experienced the pain differently. Her skin started peeling off in long strips. Like someone took a potato peeler to the woman and went crazy.

As her skin vanished into the walls of flesh, the unseen entity exchanged its potato peeler for a cheese grater. Thin strands of her muscles and organs separated themselves from her body.

All at once, the pain ended. Eva’s teleport spat both of them out in the gate of the women’s ward.

The screams, however, did not end.

Sister Cross lay on the floor in a bloodied mess. Unlike Eva, who was whole and hearty, the nun was still missing huge chunks of skin. What little scraps of clothes she had worn had been almost completely torn away and her flesh had gone with them.

Her shield bubbled up around her, but she continued to scream like she was still being mutilated.

It took Eva only a second to figure out why.

Slamming her dagger down into the pooling blood around the nun, Eva gathered up a small marble as fast as she could.

She sent it whizzing off through the air to join with her blood wards with as much haste as possible.

Eva felt the blood join with the ward just as Sister Cross’ shield shattered into shards of solid magic. They disappeared into tiny motes, leaving an extremely injured Sister Cross on the floor.

It was a good thing that Sister Cross had that shield. Eva’s wards were not designed to cause mere discomfort.

That crisis over for the moment, Eva turned her attentions to the downed woman and how to save her from her injuries.

Luckily enough for Sister Cross, the effects of the teleport seemed to have reverted to before the cheese grating had started. She was only missing surface skin.

Which would probably still have her bleeding out in a record time. The human body wasn’t meant to survive without skin.

“Arachne!” Eva shouted out, even though she could already hear the stomping footsteps coming her way over the screaming noise coming from the hole Sister Cross had torn in her mouth.

The spider-demon burst into the room a second later.

“Eva–” Arachne stopped as she spotted Sister Cross on the ground. Her eyes drifted over to the injury on Eva’s side. Her hands clenched together, squeezing tightly for just a moment. “I’ll fetch the potions,” she said, turning on her heel.

Eva stayed where she was, blinking in confusion.

She had fully expected to have to order Arachne not to slaughter Sister Cross. Instead, she runs off an gets potions?

Strange.

But gathering potions was what Eva was going to ask her to do, so she refrained from protesting.

Instead, Eva pulled out her dagger and pressed it against Sister Cross’ arm. With her shield shattered, there was nothing to get in the way.

With her dagger, she could keep the woman alive for the moment. Circulating the blood over such a huge surface area took a huge amount of concentration, but it should work long enough for the potions to make their way through her system.

Arachne reentered with a whole case of potions. Eva broke her concentration just long enough to rummage through and pick out anything that could help repair tissue or replenish blood.

Especially blood replenishment.

Selection made, Eva tossed the rest of the case back to Arachne before turning to Sister Cross.

It took both Eva and Arachne working together to pry open the nun’s mouth despite the hole at her lips. Even then, she tried to spit out the potions. At least, she tried until Eva covered her mouth. Eva didn’t even have to use her hand, she just replugged Sister Cross up with the plentiful amounts of blood coating the woman.

Potions administered, Eva kept her concentration on containing Sister Cross’ blood. They would need time to work, after all.

“We need a safe place to store her where she can’t teleport out of,” Eva said. “You think Ylva would mind us using one of her prison cells?”

“What about your injuries?”

Eva glanced down at her side. The hole was still there, blood tubes still holding. It didn’t even hurt so much. Nothing like a trip through a Hell-based teleport to put pain into perspective.

“I’m fine for now. She’s the more pressing matter at the moment.”

Arachne grit her teeth together hard enough to make noise. Otherwise, she remained silent.

“Come on,” Eva said, “help me get her to Ylva. I doubt that she will mind. She has a thing about collecting nuns anyway.”

As Arachne moved in to pick up Sister Cross, the nun started to thrash about. Her eyes blazed bright white with the Order’s unique brand of magic.

Before she could manifest a so much as a spark, Eva hovered her sharp fingers over the twitching eyeball set into the woman’s chest.

“Try anything and I will tear out your eye,” Eva said, voice stone cold.

Sister Cross glared, but the white died down to her natural brown.

“The only reason you are alive is because I still consider myself friends with Shalise. I’ve turned people’s hearts into bloodstones for less than what you’ve done to me. You’re lucky to be as you are now.”

True, Sister Cross’ current state was a complete accident thanks to Eva’s teleportation and wards. She hadn’t ever teleported anyone but Arachne before. It wasn’t a thing she had known would happen. Martina Turner used the same method of teleportation, based on the pungent sulfur left in her wake, but there was almost no chance she was anything but human.

She had to have some sort of protection. The familiar bond with Catherine, perhaps. That was something that Sister Cross lacked.

It looked like she wanted to say something. Vague, word-like noises came out of the back of her throat. Anger was all that came out with her mouth still sealed shut.

“Come quietly,” Eva said, inwardly smiling at her own little joke, “and maybe I’ll keep you alive long enough to see your daughter again.”

When Sister Cross ceased her thrashing, Eva gave a light nod towards Arachne.

It wasn’t a long walk to Ylva’s domain. The entire time, Eva kept one hand on Sister Cross’ chest while they walked. Arachne carried Cross entirely, leaving Eva free to concentrate on the blood.

While not overtly thrashing about, Sister Cross radiated rebellion, anger, and pain all at once. Two of those all but vanished once Eva swung open the doors to Ylva’s domain.

Faced with the ever-present storm clouds, massive throne, pit, and archways lining the room, Sister Cross actually managed to take her glare off of Eva to drink in the sight despite her injured form.

Eva couldn’t help but think that it would be more impressive for her had Ylva actually been in her throne.

Sister Cross’ glare returned full-force as a certain augur wandered over from the throne platform.

It took a moment for Eva to remember how Nel arrived at the prison in the first place. She had been convinced that Sister Cross was trying to kill her for some reason. It probably would have been better had the two not met, but it was too late for that. Judging by her glare, Sister Cross already recognized Nel, though the same was not true in reverse.

Eva tapped her sharp fingers against Sister Cross’ chest as a reminder before glancing to Nel. “Where’s Ylva.”

“She took Alicia and–” Nel cut herself off, squinting at Sister Cross. That squint turned wide-eyed as she stepped a few feet backwards. “S-S-Sister Cross? What did you do to her?”

“Nothing. But we’re going to be using a cell. When Ylva gets back, let her know that she has a new guest in her prison. If she gets back soon, I might still be there.”

<– Back | Index | Next –>

006.004

<– Back | Index | Next –>

Eva threw herself to the ground. A near invisible blade of wind skimmed over the tips of her hair.

That’s fine, Eva lied to herself as the ends of her hair drifted to the ground around her, my hair was getting too long anyway.

A second gust of wind curled between the ground and her body. Eva’s eyes grew wide as she felt the air draw in on itself. She felt a moment of panic before being launched up into the air.

The world spun. Sky turned to trees which turned to ground before snapping back to the sky. Bile churned in her stomach as she flipped end over end. A small, very unterrorized sounding scream escaped from Eva’s lips as she reached the peak of her flight.

Eva pushed herself as hard as she could, clamping down on her fear and focusing her concentration on the thing she had been trying to do since the start of the fight. She pushed her mind and her magic, trying to gain a slight advantage in the speed her perception.

For a brief moment, Eva felt something. A sudden moment of clarity made it through the blur of motion.

On the ground below her, Zoe Baxter stretched her arm out. The tip of her dagger glowed with crackling electricity.

In that continuing moment of clarity, Eva switched tactics. Her current strategy of uncontrollably flinging through the air was just not working out for her. Being wildly opposed to lightning bolts coming anywhere near her, Eva stepped.

All of her concentration switched to the act of stepping. Her body warped through space, moving from several feet in the air straight to the ground. She aimed for a cluster of trees that would hopefully obscure her from Zoe long enough to get back on the offensive.

To Eva’s surprise, she managed to land on her feet.

Phantom momentum sent her stumbling backwards. Eva landed flat on her butt with a thorned bush prickling at her back.

Eva stepped to her feet again, this time managing to stay standing.

Before anything else, Eva stepped directly to another crop of trees. Zoe would have heard her stumbling around. Her enhanced hearing wasn’t something to be dismissed easily.

To further combat the professor’s enhanced senses, Eva did something she hadn’t done in a long time. With a burst of pure chaos magic, Eva flooded her surroundings in darkness. Zoe still had her ears and nose, but sight made up such a drastic portion of human senses that it would definitely be worth it.

Even more so for Eva. A little darkness wasn’t about to get in the way of her sense of blood.

Unfortunately, it did interfere with her teleportation. Eva did not have enough blood to coat every surface of the forest. Even if she split the blood into fine particles and scattered it around, it would be too easy to miss a thin tree. She did not want to wind up with her leg destroyed by stepping into a tree.

As expected, Zoe compressed air around the area Eva had initially stepped to. She released it in an uncontrolled explosion of bark and wood just as the inky black darkness enveloped the area.

Eva’s first instinct was to unsheathe her dagger, jam it into her arm, form up a wire ball of blood, and launch a car-sized fist made of blood at her professor.

But Eva had something new to try.

She was supposed to have been searching through her books for a way to strike at Sawyer from afar. It didn’t quite hit her just how much she missed learning blood magic until she had started reading.

After starting at Brakket, Eva had weaned off the blood books in favor of proper thaumaturgy. Then she had lost her eyes and had to get Arachne to read to her. Because of the demon despising that particular activity, Eva barely managed to keep up in her classes.

Once she recovered her sight, Eva started off on the necromancy books she had stolen from Sawyer. What a bore. One would think that dead bodies, skeletons, blood and gore, and all that would be exciting. Even aside from the loathsome aspects of murdering everyone, the magic involved was simply uninspiring. All of it revolved around life, and how to instill that life into just about everything.

Not quite what she had been expecting. It made a certain sort of sense. However, Eva felt it would be far more practical to just acquire the help of regular living people rather than mess around with brain-dead zombies.

Blood magic, on the other hand, was something that just spoke to Eva. Every little tangent wound up all the more interesting simply due to how long it had been since she last read a blood magic book. Everything she came across had been just too tempting to skim or skip over.

As such, Eva had a number of things to practice.

Eva pulled out a large metal flask. Unlike most blood Eva used, it wasn’t her blood or Arachne’s blood. It was filled to the brim with the blood of an animal.

Normally, an animal’s blood would be useless. Even more so than her own semi-demonic blood. Animals simply lacked the worth that humans, demons, elves, and other magical creatures possessed.

This particular spell required animal blood from a large work animal. Cows, oxen, and donkeys would all work. Probably camels too, but they weren’t exactly on hand. Eva had selected a horse from a nearby farm. She hadn’t taken enough to kill the thing–it didn’t need to suffer for her experiments–but it might be lethargic for the next day or few.

As if animal blood wasn’t enough, it needed some of her own blood mixed in. Mixing blood tended towards diluting effects or otherwise making the blood worthless.

And yet here she was, making a cut on her wrist and adding to the pool.

Shaping the blood in the air, Eva formed a humanoid shape that wouldn’t look out of place as an ancient cave-drawing. Convinced that her amazing work of art wasn’t getting any better, she started channeling magic into the blob.

As she channeled, the flask-worth of blood started multiplying. It churned in on itself, exploding outwards with twice the amount of blood before collapsing in on itself again to start the process over. Eventually it reached her size.

And then Eva started feeling a little queasy.

Eva considered herself as far from squeamish as one could get. She blamed the turning of her stomach on the massive amounts of magic she was pouring into the human-sized column of blood.

Vague shapes formed on the surface of the blood. It started out as depressions in the blob. Before long, it morphed into more recognizable human features. A mirror image of Eva formed along the surface of the blood. Eva couldn’t see the colors due to the darkness, but she had no doubt it would look proper. If her blood sight only extended a centimeter beneath the skin, she wouldn’t be able to tell her clone apart from herself.

Eva gave her clone-self a poke. She could see that it was made up of nothing but blood. No bones or musculature at all. Despite that, it felt relatively solid. She wasn’t even holding it together with her magic anymore. It was entirely on its own.

Poking it did give Eva a slight turn of the stomach.

The real queasiness didn’t come from looking at her blood-mirror. She could feel what it felt. After about sixty seconds of construction, Eva realized she was seeing double. Double of nothing, again because of the darkness, but the odd sensation was still there. It would take some getting used to.

There was a problem with the darkness. Though she could see through her clone’s eyes and she could sense blood, her clone didn’t operate on her mind. It gave a one-way flow of information. She couldn’t tell it where to go or what to attack without real words.

A full minute of construction time left much to be desired as well. Against any opponent like herself, Eva wouldn’t be able to use anything similar to this technique. It simply took too long. As it was, she felt relatively safe from Zoe. The professor was still tossing razor wind aimlessly.

Canceling the darkness spell, Eva almost threw up as she looked on herself. It was like looking into two mirrors with both facing one another. An endless recursion of herself.

It would definitely take some getting used to.

She pinched her eyes shut and leaned in to whisper to her other self. “Attack Zoe,” she said, pointing for good measure.

A razor wind immediately slammed into the tree they were hidden behind. The clone didn’t notice or care. It had received its orders and moved to carry them out.

Eva stayed behind the tree with her eyes shut.

Through her clone’s eyes, she watched Zoe’s eyes widen as fake-Eva charged. They widened even more as a wind blade passed harmlessly through fake-Eva’s midsection. The blood parted to allow the wind to pass before reforming seamlessly.

The clone threw an open-clawed punch at Zoe. The blood mimicked carapace in every way that mattered.

For a moment, Eva felt a jolt of fear. She hadn’t directed her clone to do anything but attack. No qualifiers like ‘non lethal’ or ‘spar’ to dampen any blows.

It swung with all of its might, putting every ounce of strength it had behind the sharp tips of its claw.

Eva’s real body winced as Zoe lifted an arm to block the strike. Her empathetic pain turned to confusion. Zoe hadn’t raised any thaumaturgic shield, yet the claws stopped before touching her arm with space to spare.

Before Eva could begin to consider what had happened, an explosion of air knocked the clone’s arm clean off. It was just blood molded together by magic, after all. The loosed liquid splattered against the ground.

Feedback from the clone jolted Eva’s own arm. Or her phantom mental image of her clone’s sensation. It hurt no worse than the tingling from a limb that had fallen asleep. Something, Eva suddenly realized, that she hadn’t felt in her legs or hands since the transplant.

Zoe faltered. Her expression turned to one of shock as she stared at the missing limb.

The clone was under no such distress. It lashed out with its still intact arm even as the blood within its body bubbled out into a new arm.

Zoe’s distraction almost cost her a rather unflattering scar across her face. As it was, she had to stumble backwards to avoid the claws. Not enough to fall down, but enough to send her off-balance.

And then she noticed the new limb on the clone. Zoe tried to say something, but was immediately cut off by the clone not caring to hear her words in the slightest.

The clone pressed its advantage, moving in harder and faster.

For a few minutes, Eva watched Zoe, surprised at how much of a back foot the professor had found herself on. The clone was nothing if not relentless.

As she watched, Eva opened her own eyes. She sat behind a tree, just focusing on taking in the two differing inputs. It was disorienting and nauseating, but got better as time passed. Definitely not something she should be testing in a combat situation.

And then, while watching her clone’s no-holds-barred beat down of Zoe, Eva had another idea. Another idea that shouldn’t be tested in a combat situation.

Too bad, Eva thought at absolutely nothing, I’m doing it anyway.

Zoe lifted her dagger. Lightning crackled on the end. She pointed the sharp tip of the dagger directly at the clone’s chest.

The clone knocked her arm to one side, sending the charged lightning off into the sky.

Eva used that moment of thunder to enact her plan.

She stepped.

Not to anywhere she could see. Rather, Eva tried to step in her clone’s field of view, directly behind Zoe.

The world moved. Eva’s view through her clone remained relatively steady but her own vision twisted and spun. Dirt and twigs smacked into her face as she flopped over on the ground.

For a moment, Eva just lay there.

Her clone was still fighting Zoe and the professor was far too concerned with fighting back the onslaught to look behind her.

Zoe had started pushing back. Her initial timid attacks had given way to far more vicious strikes. The clone was slowly shrinking as it lost more and more blood. Reddish-black blood had splayed absolutely everywhere; a good portion of the blood was coating Zoe herself and had soaked into her exercise clothes.

Like the giant blood hands Eva could produce, none of the created blood was actually useful. A huge element of blood magic was the shedding of blood. Stolen or otherwise unwillingly taken blood had different properties compared to willingly given blood and both were different from unknowingly given blood. Blood stolen from a third party or taken while the donor was unconscious would both count as unknowingly given.

For a good number of spells, such a thing didn’t matter all that much. It was mostly the more ritualized aspects that required keeping it in mind. Taken blood worked best for damaging effects while given blood strengthened positive rituals.

Magically created blood was neither given nor taken. It wasn’t even shed. It never flowed in the veins of any living creature. As such, it was worthless for haemomancy. Even more so than the blood of an animal.

Still, Eva had been hoping that the clone’s lost blood would rejoin with the whole–it was made out of the stuff–but that didn’t appear to be the case. Her clone was a full head shorter than it should have been.

And it was only shrinking more. Zoe stepped forward, burying her dagger in the clone’s chest. A lightning bolt exploded out its back. Blood splattered around the woods and an acrid scent filled the air.

Through her clone’s eyes, Eva saw herself lying face down on the ground. There was a small twig sticking through her foot, but that wasn’t such a big deal. Her teleport had been successful, if painful.

Eva’s nose wrinkled as she pushed herself up, clamping down on a groan that wanted to escape from the effort. Lying unmoving felt nicer, but she had to end this before she threw up.

Clambering to her feet made enough noise to finally alert Zoe to Eva’s presence a few feet behind the woman.

A breeze brushed a few hairs back behind Eva’s head. That breeze picked up into a gale.

Eva’s feet left the ground. Both of her perspectives flew apart from one another and away from Zoe. One vanished as the clone splattered against a tree.

Lacking the luck of being made out of blood, Eva’s back slammed into a tree. Harsh bark cut into her back–straight through her brand new tee-shirt–and left small wounds. She slid down the tree, further scraping her back, until her feet caught the ground.

Zoe was sprinting towards her. Eva tried lifting an arm to toss out a wreath of flames. Suddenly missing the senses of a second person was just as disorienting as suddenly gaining them. Unable to think clearly, her flamethrower ended up more of a flame-spittle, drooling on the ground in front of her.

A gust of wind knocked her hand to the side before she could try again.

She felt a sharp tap on the top of her head.

“Dead.”

Eva reached up and rubbed the top of her head.

“I was confused at first,” Zoe said, breathing in deep pants. She reached her arm up and wiped off a slew of sweat onto her sleeve. “You charged out at me. Naturally, I didn’t want to kill you. ‘You’ didn’t seem to have the same reservations.”

Eva shook her head, fuming at herself for failing again at defeating Zoe. Sure, it might have been a bad idea to have tested something new in the middle of battle, but it wasn’t like things were going swimmingly before that point.

“Then your arm came off and everything. It was quite the shock, I almost stopped then and there.”

“Good thing you didn’t,” Eva said with a sigh, “it wasn’t told to stop fighting.”

“What was it?”

“A new spell I found. It’s going to take a lot of getting used to before I try again in a fight. There’s a one-way sensory feedback from it to me, so I saw double of everything. Extremely disorienting.”

Zoe tapped her chin. “Sounds useful if you can overcome that issue.”

“Maybe I’ll practice by sending it to history class.”

“I think that someone bumping into it too hard might raise a few uncomfortable questions. Can you make one of someone else?”

“Not sure. The book didn’t mention anything about that, but I’d need a sample of someone else’s blood at the very least. I’m not sure if they’d get the feedback effect or if I would… or if it would even work at all because they weren’t the ones to cast the spell.”

A musing hum from Zoe filled a few minutes of silence.

“You never said why the sudden interest in sparring,” Eva said. “Not that I don’t appreciate the opportunity to test out my new stuff…”

“Frankly, you’re too much trouble.”

Eva immediately tried to protest. Zoe held up a hand.

“Since you came to Brakket, there’s been zombies, nuns, and demons–so many demons–all running about causing problems.”

Eva pressed her lips together in a frown. “I’ll have you know, very few of those are my fault. Especially the necromancer and the nuns.”

“Be that as it may, the relaxing life of a teacher just isn’t what it used to be. And then there is the thing.” She shook her head from side to side. “I can’t afford to sit around unpracticed while the world turns to chaos around us.”

“So why not Wayne?”

“Oh, we have been sparring. You think this is my first day? He just had a meeting to attend with a parent. I thought you might be interested. And it made for a nice change of pace.”

That made sense. She seemed a lot better than she had during her summer lectures. Until just now, Eva had assumed she had been simply holding back for the students’ sake.

Which just made all those losses all the worse. If Eva couldn’t even beat ‘relaxing teacher life’ Zoe, how was she supposed to compete against a gung-ho version of the woman.

Maybe it was time to go for some hardcore combat lessons herself.

“That reminds me,” Eva said, “I have a little project that I’m working on that I could use some help with. Nothing vital or urgent, just something I’d like to talk to you about in the near future.”

“I have time tonight,” Zoe said. “All my papers are graded and lessons are planned. For the most part. I still have a good amount of work to catch up on from when Catherine took over my post. Taking a break from that for today, however.” She leaned into her shoulder, removing more sweat. Pulling away with a face, she said, “I could use a shower first. We’ve been out here far longer than I wanted.”

“Ugh,” Eva muttered to herself as she peeled away from the tree, healing the small cuts on her back as she moved. She tugged at her shirt. There were more holes than back on it. “I think this shirt has outlived its usefulness. How about in an hour at the women’s ward?”

“You need a ride out?”

Eva shuddered. “No thank you.”

With a shrug of her shoulders, Zoe vanished. A chilling blast of wind, colder even than the ambient February air, gave Eva the shivers.

Building up magic for her own teleport, Eva activated it, fully expecting and preparing for the unpleasant trip through Hell.

She was not prepared for the head-on collision with a brick wall.

Eva collapsed straight to her knees, clutching at her brain. It wasn’t a literal brick wall, but a metaphysical one. Wards.

A female figure appeared in her blood sight, standing just in front of her.

“No one ever thinks to ward against banishment. Who would want to keep demons from being sent back to Hell?” There was a sharp laugh from the woman. “You should have left with the other.”

Eva didn’t have the energy to snip out a witty response. She recognized the blood veins and the object inserted into the woman’s chest. Putting on her most confident expression, Eva glanced up.

“Hello, Sister Cross.”

<– Back | Index | Next –>

006.003

<– Back | Index | Next –>

“How exactly are these students being screened?”

Without so much as glancing up from tapping away at her cellphone, Catherine shrugged. “That’s up to your governor.”

“Anderson?”

“That’s the one.”

Eva leaned back in her chair, balancing it on two legs as she rested her feet on a neighboring seat. For a few moments, she just stared at the ceiling tiles.

They weren’t very interesting.

It had never stood out much to Eva, but Brakket was dull. Aside from the Infinite Courtyard, there was very little magic to be had in the school itself. The building itself wasn’t all that different from her old middle school building. Larger, sure, but otherwise as mundane as any other building.

There were other magical schools around America. Even more across the seas. Nobody, students or teachers, ever talked about them. Were they fancy ancient castles with moving staircases or were they just regular school buildings? Maybe they taught things in radically different manners. Or had completely different schools of magic.

Thanks to her magical history class, Eva knew that thaumaturgy was the most widely used form of magic. Part of that had to do with how neutral it was. Thaumaturgy didn’t require any reagents from humans; potions sometimes needed human parts, but not often. There were no morally questionable sacrifices needed to access the magic–Eva doubted blood magic would ever be taught at any regular academy for that reason alone.

Were there ‘underground’ academies that taught less reputable types of magic?

That might be worth looking into. Eva didn’t think she would arrange for a transfer; Brakket Academy was doing a perfectly adequate job of teaching what she wanted to know. Between Devon and her collection of books, including those she had stolen from the necromancers, Eva had plenty of material to go over on her own.

However, it might be interesting to visit a school that taught about demons.

Assuming such ‘underground’ schools existed, how was she supposed to find them? It was doubtful that they would be listed in some public directory. Actually, how did they get students in the first place? Kids probably had to know a person who went to one and get a recommendation from them. Or were children of people who went to one.

Of course, the idea that these rogue schools existed was purely hypothetical. These schools needed to exist in order to be visited.

Then again, she might be witnessing the birth of an ‘underground’ academy in Brakket. Demons were certainly not a reputable species. While Eva was of the opinion that they received a lot of unwarranted bad press, she would be the first to admit that demons tended to be a little out of touch with values that humans generally held in high regard.

Eva dropped her chair back to resting fully on the ground. The clock in the room so-helpfully reminded her that there were still ten minutes before their little class would start. She really should have brought along a book to read.

Catherine was still tapping away at her phone, doing her best to ignore Eva’s presence.

“So,” Eva said, engaging the succubus in conversation anyway, “I admit, I didn’t grow up in a proper magical household where I might have learned these things. What is Alexander Anderson a governor of? The school board? The state?”

“Don’t know,” she said without looking up. “I can’t say I know many demons interested in mortal politics.”

“Makes sense.”

Catherine’s phone chose that moment to emit a shrill noise. The succubus cut it off with another tap of her thumb. With a sigh, she dropped her phone into the back pocket of her all-too-tight jeans.

“He is backing Martina on all this teaching diablery nonsense,” Catherine said, eyes narrowing at the clock on the wall. “You know that they’re using you, right? ‘Acclimatizing’ demons or humans because of the impending Void situation was an excuse. This farce has been planned long before they knew about Void being pulled to this plane.”

Eva looked over the succubus with a frown. She hadn’t actually known that last bit. “Why do they want kids learning how to summon demons?”

“Maybe they think demons are poor misunderstood creatures not deserving of their fate in Hell.” As she spoke, Catherine rolled her eyes. “Ultimately, I, again, don’t know and don’t care. I have a nice job at the moment. No real fighting and lots of spare time to occupy myself with all the oddities of the mortal realm. I’d rather not question those above me too much and risk losing it all.”

“Then why warn me off by saying that they’re using me?”

“You quitting would annoy Martina. Annoying Martina is a far cry from digging my nose deep into their business and something that I try to do at every opportunity.”

Eva had the distinct impression that not many people, or demons for that matter, were all that fond of Martina Turner. Wayne and Zoe hated her for the simple reason that she brought Zagan into the school. Catherine hated her for whatever reason. Martina had managed to offend Ylva at their first meeting and, judging by that same meeting, Zagan wasn’t all that fond of her himself.

Really, it was amazing that she was even alive with how many powerful people disliked her.

“Most of all,” Catherine continued, “you quitting might delay this annoyance. It is going to eat up a great deal of my spare time as it is.

“Frankly, I don’t know what they expect us to do in the first place. I can’t summon demons without potentially being tossed into the Keeper’s hands and I’m betting you can’t either.”

Eva opened her mouth to protest, but her voice died in her throat. She tried to think back to the last demons she had summoned. It took some effort. First she thought it was Ivonis, the haunter she had used to retrieve Devon from wherever he had holed up. Then she remembered Ylva.

It felt strange. Like Ylva had always been around in some form or another. The truth was that Eva had summoned her back when she had a book in need of destruction. That was before she had even lost her eyes. A year and a couple of months at this point.

Devon had performed five treatments on her since then. Her blood had grown blacker. While she was in Hell, Ylva had refused to allow Eva back into her domain simply to prevent any accidental crossings into the mortal plane from Hell. Eva had to use her beacon to return to Earth.

My beacon, Eva realized, needs to be replaced. Zoe would probably accept one. And it would be a good idea to visit Shalise sometime soon.

But the point about the Keeper stood. For all Eva knew, she was too far over the line to summon a demon herself.

“So what are we teaching this class for?” Eva asked, aghast. She had far better things to do with her time than waste it all on sitting around twiddling her thumbs.

Catherine pressed her lush lips together in a sneer. “I believe our job was more supervision than actual teaching. That’s why we have books with all the diagrams needed.”

“That’s slightly more reasonable,” Eva said. “I can’t believe they’re making a student supervise this class. Couldn’t they spare one regular human?”

“I believe that was the point in asking for Devon Foster. Though after Zagan–” she said his name with undisguised venom “–foisted his responsibility off on me, he actually suggested you by name.”

“This was supposed to be his job then?”

Catherine’s eyes briefly lost their glamor, reverting to their natural red.

That answered Eva’s question adequately enough for her. “Still,” Eva said after a short pause, “I’m more of a haemomancer than any sort of diabolist.”

“Unfortunately, the only two summoners that I know of, aside from you and your mentor, are Martina and the governor. Both consider themselves far too busy for such a menial task.”

Eva shook her head. Again, she was having bad feelings about this whole thing. She had told Martina that it was a disaster waiting to happen. That was only enhanced by the realization that she couldn’t actually do much herself. Not to mention that the students would be drawing shackles. Shackles would definitely be dangerous for Catherine to accidentally step over and probably for Eva as well. She actually hadn’t tested in a long while.

“So we just stand around and wait for something to go wrong?”

“Between the two of us, we should be able to clean up any of the mortals’ accidents.”

Under her breath, Eva muttered, “now I’m reconsidering whether or not I should have told Arachne.”

The moment she finished speaking, the door to the classroom creaked open. Eva got her first look at one of the students she was expected to supervise.

And immediately groaned.

Eva didn’t recognize his face, but his circulatory system stood out to her. Currently walking through the door was that kid that tried to trip her at Zoe’s lecture after Eva lost her eyes. The kid that refused to fight her properly in Isaac Calvin’s fight club.

Something Burnside. For the life of her, Eva couldn’t remember his first name. Thinking harder, Eva wasn’t certain she had ever heard it. Zoe had always called him ‘Mr. Burnside’ and nothing else.

Mr. Burnside paused in the doorway as his eyes met Eva. There was a brief pause in both their actions.

Part of Eva wanted to send him away immediately. He didn’t respect her and she didn’t respect him back. Trusting him to listen to directions and to summon demons was going to make this project even more of a disaster than it already was.

On the other hand, if he stayed then he would start summoning demons. Eva might accidentally be slightly too slow to save him from being eaten by some nasty demon.

It probably wouldn’t come to that… probably. In the end, Eva decided to ignore him. Catherine could be in charge of that little nuisance.

Burnside came to his own decision. Averting his eyes from Eva, he went and took a seat in the farthest corner of the room.

A broad-shouldered man arrived next. He immediately moved up to the closest seat in the room, giving Eva and Catherine both an appraising look as he moved.

There was a large empty space between the first row of desks and the desk at which Catherine and Eva sat. Plenty of space for these budding diabolists to draw out whatever markings they needed to.

One red-headed girl, Eva noticed, was covered in scars not dissimilar to a more pronounced version Wayne’s own disfigurement from the fire in Zoe’s apartment. It took Eva a minute to realize who that was.

It was the girl who had been injured by the nuns’ white flames almost a full year ago. The one who Eva had been just slightly too slow to erect a shield around.

The scarred girl glanced around the room, eyes dipping down to Eva’s claws, but otherwise completely passing over her. She moved up and sat near a mousey, brown-haired girl who entered as she was looking. Both immediately entered into a hushed conversation.

A handful more students filed in over the course of the next few minutes. Eva barely paid attention to them. Most were older students that she had limited interactions with, if anything at all. As such, none of them particularly interested Eva.

At least not until a timid girl walked into the room, biting her lip.

Eva balked at the sight. No matter how she looked at it, this girl was far younger than any of the others in the room.

“Irene,” Eva said as she stood.

Her voice got Catherine’s attention. The succubus took her sneer off one of the students and turned to the doorway. Her sneer morphed into an almost-smile as she waved Irene over.

“What are you doing here?” Eva said to the approaching girl.

“Catherine said–”

“I invited her here.”

“What?” Eva glanced between a nodding Irene and a very smug Catherine. “Why?”

“All the others get their little pets, why not me?”

Irene blinked. “Pet?”

Ignoring that tangent, Eva asked, “do you even know why you’re here?”

The brown-haired girl shook her head side to side.

“No one has been informed. Not until they sign the contract.”

Eva looked out over the students. Only one person had shown up after Irene. Counting quickly, Eva found that their class had reached thirteen people, including Irene. That should have been everyone. “None of you know why you’re here?” Eva said, raising her voice slightly.

Everyone shook their heads in silence.

“No guesses?”

“We were told to keep quiet about this meeting on the penalty of expulsion,” the mousey girl said. Several of the other students nodded in agreement. “I recognize a few students who have parents of… less than scrupulous backgrounds. So,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone, “we are here for something less than scrupulous.”

Dropping her voice’s volume once again, Eva turned over to Catherine. “Governor Anderson screened these people based on their parents?”

That fit with how Eva suspected most students got into the ‘underground’ schools. Still, she expected at least one person to have an idea about what the class was for.

“And where is he, anyway? Shouldn’t he and Martina Turner show up for the first class at the very least.”

“I believe the phrase is ‘plausible deniability.'”

“So when–and that is a when and not an if–something goes wrong, they’re going to blame us.”

“Like I said, they’re using you. Us.”

Eva shook her head with a sigh. “Look, Irene, you probably want to leave. Being–”

“And how do you know what I want?”

“You’ve complained about me before. Something about how it is ‘always me’ and I believe the word ‘freak’ was thrown in at some point.” Irene winced, but Eva continued talking. “This is going to be one of those ‘freak’ things.”

Irene took a deep breath and straightened out her back. “Will running and hiding make those things disappear?”

Eva gave a curt shake of her head. “No.”

“Then why shield me from it.” She stuck a finger in Eva’s chest. “You’re not the only one with ‘freak’ things anyway. If this is one of those things, then I want to stay and learn.” Though her eyes were wavering, Irene’s voice came out firm. That firmness washed away as uncertainty surfaced in her expression. “This is a class, right? You’re going to keep us safe, right?”

“Fine,” Eva said, ignoring the last few questions while knocking the girl’s hand away. “Stay. Go take a seat with the others.”

“You know,” Catherine said as Irene walked towards the desks, “I’m not sure if I should take some offense at that conversation. Then again, I am something of a freak.”

Eva rolled her eyes, snatching a stack of papers off the front desk.

“Alright,” she said as she walked up to the students’ desks and started placing the sheets out, “we still cannot tell you what this is about. Not until you’ve signed your name on this paper.

“This is a fae contract. For those who don’t know what that means, consider this a binding magical contract where breaking it results in enslavement to the particular fairy that wrote them up. I suggest you read through it carefully.”

Catherine groaned. “If you’re too lazy for that, it boils down this: You are not allowed to discuss anything that occurs within this classroom with anyone not currently in the classroom. Not unless you want to be a fairy slave for eternity.”

“The contract lasts until you turn eighteen, so it isn’t forever, but if you can’t handle that or think you might accidentally slip to one of your friends or parents, get out now.”

Two students immediately got to their feet.

Before they could start moving towards the door, Eva said, “be aware that just because you didn’t sign this contract does not mean that you won’t be expelled if you talk about this meeting.”

The two nodded and left the classroom without a word.

A silence descended on the assembled students as they read through the papers, much to Catherine’s chagrin. Two more students decided to drop out early after reading the contracts.

The nine students remaining all penned their name on the papers. As soon as they lifted their pens from the paper, the papers vanished with a puff of smoke. The first student let out an alarmed cry, drawing a few chuckles from the rest of the students once they realized what had happened.

Once the final paper vanished, Eva maneuvered around the desks towards the door. With a flick of her long fingers, the deadbolt slid into place. A quick channeling of her magic activated a secondary lock and some basic privacy functions.

For their little lessons, they had commandeered one of the less-used staff rooms. The door had no windows and the actual windows had heavy blinds that blocked all light.

Eva had even taken the time to set up a few of her anti-scrying runes around the room. Though Martina had provided a separate thaumaturgy-based ward system to keep any would-be eavesdroppers from eavesdropping, Eva wasn’t about to take chances.

“Alright,” Eva said as she arrived back at the front of the room. “You want to tell them or show them?”

“Show, of course,” Catherine said with a wistful sigh. She gripped the front of her barely-there shirt and tore it clean off, eliciting the expected response from the gathered students. After removing her cellphone and setting it carefully on the desk, Catherine then tore off her pants in much the same manner.

The students’ frankly deplorable behavior turned to gasps of shock as Catherine’s skin shimmered. Her skin turned pale violet and her eyes glowed in demonic red. Two leathery wings sprouted from her back along with a single spaded tail.

Running a hand from her chest to her hip, Catherine sighed in absolute contentment. Her wings stretched out, giving her a good eight foot wingspan.

“You know,” Eva said, “you could have just taken off your clothes like a normal person.”

“I have no idea how the entirety of the human race has stayed sane while wearing those portable prisons.”

“Yeah, but now I’m going to have to get you a change of clothes after class. Unless you’re planning on living out the rest of your days in this room?”

Catherine glanced down at the scraps of cloth littering the floor. She met Eva’s eyes and gave an unapologetic shrug.

Eva sighed. “Anyway,” she said to the utterly silent classroom, “Catherine, as you may have guessed, is a demon. A lesser succubus to be specific. Not as powerful or strong as regular succubi, but decidedly more human-looking and able to completely disguise herself as a human.

“Incidentally,” Eva pointed at her eyes. “My eyes were stolen from a carnivean. My hands and legs,” she lifted her skirt slightly, “were gifted to me by my dear friend Arachne.”

“Any questions?” Catherine said, sounding fully committed to playing up her seductive succubus voice. Then again, maybe that was just how she sounded while back in her normal body.

The broad-shouldered man who Eva had noted earlier raised his hand as high as it could go. Without even waiting to be called upon, he blurted out, “can we–”

“Before you ask questions,” Eva interrupted as fast as she could, “this is not sex education.” In the corner of her eye, Catherine’s lusty look twisted into one of disgust. “We are here to discuss demons and, eventually, instruct you on summoning. With that in mind, are there any questions pertaining to us or demons in general?”

Broad-shoulders slowly put his arm down.

Mousey-girl once again set herself apart by speaking up. “Your eyes and limbs come from demons? How does that work?”

“Demons typically have incredible regeneration abilities. A demon arm could regenerate fully in a week or two. Even when severed, that regeneration ability still persists, though a severed arm won’t try to grow back into a full demon.”

“Mostly,” Catherine butted in. “There are a few species that can multiply that way.”

“Mostly,” Eva repeated. “But if you place that arm next to something, say the stub of your arm…” Eva motioned to the swirls of carapace connecting her hand to her skin. “It will try its hardest to regenerate and fulfill its function. In this case the function of being a hand.”

A student with gray hair raised his arm. After Eva nodded in his direction, he said in an incredulous tone, “you chopped off your arms, legs, and eyes to get demon parts?”

Eva narrowed her red eyes in that kid’s direction. He looked far too young to have the hair of an old man. “The necromancer who has been plaguing this city since two Halloweens ago kindly removed my fingers and toes, and gouged out my eyes.” She clicked her fingers against the desk. “My hands were something of an emergency treatment while my legs and eyes were far more voluntary.”

Again, broad-shoulder kid raised his arm in the air and spoke without waiting for acknowledgment. “So you can just chop off any body part and slap on a demon one instead?” he asked with a wry grin.

Eva suppressed a roll of her eyes. “I personally wouldn’t try chopping my head off, but essentially, yes. Internal organs would work as well so long as you could survive without them for about ten minutes to a half hour. But,” Eva forestalled any further questions on the topic with a raised hand, “that is getting far ahead of ourselves.

“Any questions not related to body part exchanges?”

One student with a multitude of lip and face piercings raised their hand. “You’re going to teach us to summon demons?”

“That is the current plan–”

“Heh, wicked.”

“But,” Eva said with a slight glance towards Catherine.

“Shackles,” the succubus said, picking up on the hint admirably in Eva’s opinion. “Demons can be bound to select locations within the mortal realm. By drawing out specific patterns on the ground, you can contain most demons and their powers. These are vitally important as most demons will attempt to kill their summoner before anything else.”

“Why?” someone asked.

Eva pulled a stack of thick books out from under the teacher’s desk as Catherine answered.

“Freedom. Kill the summoner and any witnesses and the demon will be able to do as they please without any nasty contracts or restrictions. In the event that a demon does end up serving a mortal, they like to know that they’re not serving a weakling.”

“As you all read your contracts, you should already know this. It still bears repeating just so there are no accidents. These books,” Eva said as she started handing them out, “are not to leave this room. It is considered a violation of your contract and the penalty will be paid.”

The books were far thicker than any one that she owned. Probably thicker than most Devon owned. From her cursory glance through them when she first arrived in the classroom, Eva was surprised to find them set up like any regular textbook. She fully intended to borrow one and read through it.

It wasn’t like she had signed any contracts.

“If you’ll all turn to chapter one, we’ll start discussing shackles in-depth.”

Far more in-depth than any lessons Devon had given, that was for sure. While she could read far faster on her own, at least something good would come of wasting her time with this disaster.

Catherine pulled out a thick piece of chalk and swiped it around the board, leaving an almost perfect circle in its wake. “Like most drawn magic, shackles all begin with a circle…”

And thus, the lesson was underway.

<– Back | Index | Next –>

006.002

<– Back | Index | Next –>

“Nothing.”

Eva nodded. It came easily. No big disappointment in Nel’s words. She hadn’t expected much from the ex-nun.

“That’s fine,” Eva said. “I’d appreciate it if you kept trying, but you don’t need to dedicate every moment of your time.”

“Of course I will!” Nel slammed her palms down on her marble altar. “I want that man dead as much as you. No! More than you.” She pulled up the sleeve of her robe.

The augur’s arm was looking much better than it had back when Eva first woke up. A good half of her arm still looked withered and dead. She hadn’t been able to replace a good portion of the eyes she had recovered. Either due to problems reattaching them, the eyes being rotted thanks to being improperly kept, or simply because they hadn’t recovered every eye.

Any time Nel showed it off–something she had been doing with a disturbing regularity–Eva got a sick feeling in her stomach. It brought back memories of her own time under Sawyer’s knife. Eva was beyond grateful that she only had two eyes to take.

“I want to be right there with you when the light in his eyes fades.” The woman spoke with righteous anger. Her hand, still pressed against the altar, trembled in obvious vexation. “He may have learned a lot from me, but he can’t hide forever. I’ll find him with or without your help.”

“It isn’t that,” Eva said, pointing at the withered husk that once was Sawyer’s fingers. “When I pulled every drop of usable blood from those things, I wasn’t just doing it for fun. I’ve started researching blood rituals.

“I know a few, of course. Mostly ones that I’ve used on myself in the past. Blood cleansing, the ritual that granted me the ability to heal small cuts, and one or two others. Unfortunately, I’ve never needed to locate myself using my own blood and the resources are not cheap. It might not work, whatever he did that is hiding himself from you might protect him from any ritual I find. We’ll have to wait and see.”

The resources were the real problem. One ritual she had found that might work to locate Sawyer required a bloodstone to be consumed.

She was currently the proud owner of four bloodstones. One made from the necromancer Weilks during her first year. It was not in the best of conditions. The only reason it was still functional was thanks to her only having used it twice. Once when she first made it and again, for a very limited amount of time, when Sawyer and the inquisitors had attacked.

Using it in the ritual would probably screw something up. It really should be destroyed just to prevent any accidents with it suddenly disintegrating.

The other three were all from the museum. It seemed so long ago now. Yet despite near constant use, the stone within the dagger’s hilt hadn’t decayed in the slightest. Considering its age, that was beyond impressive. She kept intending to research exactly why it had held up so well, but things kept getting in the way. Things like Sawyer.

Maybe it was made out of dragon hearts. Or some other extremely long-lived creature.

Unfortunately, she would likely end up consuming one of the gems embedded within the hilt. Unless she found a donor somewhere.

Things used to be much easier. There were plenty of scumbags lurking in the alleys of Florida. People that society really should be thanking her for getting rid of. Devon never looked down on her nor commented on where she got her bloodstones.

Eva had a feeling that Zoe and her friends might not act the same.

Which just made it all the more important to ensure that the ritual was completed to perfection the first time she tried it. Less wasted resources.

“But,” Eva said, “if you can find him first, I wouldn’t mind one bit.” It would save a bloodstone.

Her words seemed to mollify Nel. For the moment at least. The former nun nodded, letting her sleeve fall back over her arm. “I will. But first,” she said as she looked down at herself. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “I need a break. And a bath.”

Eva happened to agree with that notion. At one point in time, she had thought that frankincense smelt good. A nice citrus scent mixed with wood.

Since handing over the remains of Sawyer’s hand to Nel, the woman had spent almost all of her time at the altar. She carried the unmistakable musk of frankincense on her clothes and her person wherever she went. The smell quickly became old. The few times Eva had been around Nel outside the altar chamber, she had practically had to hold her breath.

It was worse inside the room, but there wasn’t much Eva could do about that.

“Good idea,” Eva said, turning to leave.

Nel stopped her with a half-mumbled, “um.”

“Was there something else?”

“You haven’t seen Alicia around, have you?”

“Nope. Ylva was out on her throne with no Alicia around the last I saw. I came directly here from the entrance, so I don’t know if she is around.”

Nel’s shoulders slumped. “Oh,” was all she said.

“Miss her?” Eva asked with an eyebrow raised.

“The opposite, really. She always seems to know when I’m bathing. And she always shows up, ruining an otherwise peaceful moment of relaxation.”

“You don’t like her.”

“I–” She cut herself off, glaring at Eva. “I didn’t say that. I would just prefer if she weren’t…”

“Around?”

Nel glanced off to one side, rubbing her elbow with her good hand. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “She scares me. The way she looks at me, it’s like she wants to kill me sometimes.”

“Have you spoken with Ylva?”

Nel shook her head side to side, sending black hair scattering over her shoulders.

“Given that she owns you both, maybe you should bring it up with her? I don’t know what you expect me to do about it.”

Though it was true that Eva wasn’t fond of the other former nun all that much. Nel had annoyed Eva from the moment she showed up on her front porch. A combination of being part of the reasons Sister Cross had attacked her, spying on her, and expecting Eva to just help out from the goodness of her heart.

At least Eva could understand Nel’s motivations.

Alicia wasn’t so straightforward. It didn’t help that she had eyes for no one but Ylva. And apparently Nel, though it didn’t sound quite the same in that case. Ali had been the one to pull Eva out of her little nightmare and yet she had yet to speak more than ten words to the woman.

According to Zoe, Alicia had been tortured into serving Ylva. No matter how she was acting now, Eva couldn’t be sure that torture was an effective method of recruitment.

One of the first things she had done was to fix up the wards around the prison. Alicia was not invited to the women’s ward. True, the other nuns had managed to break her wards. But that had been a group of them and it had still taken several minutes. They had likely been dedicated ward breakers as well.

Eva was quite confident that she would be able to notice any foul play on Alicia’s part and have plenty of time to react should she try anything. Especially thanks to a few tricks she had learned on the subject of blood wards.

“It’s probably just my imagination,” Nel said with a sigh.

“Are you willing to take that chance?”

Nel bit her bottom lip. After gnawing for a moment, she said, “you think she would do something?”

Eva shrugged. “I’m not the one who has been getting death glares. Do you think she would hurt you?” Eva held up her hand before the ex-nun could respond. “I don’t care. But I bet Ylva does.” Go bother her, Eva tacked on in her mind.

Update on Sawyer received and wanting nothing more from the augur, Eva left. Nel stayed still behind her altar with a thoughtful expression on her face.

The cold January air smacked her in the face with a bundle of snow the moment she stepped outside Ylva’s domain. After taking a few deep breaths to flush the frankincense from her system, Eva ignited her hands.

Fire crept up her arms, right to the edge of where her carapace met skin. She held up her hands to her face. Heat washed over her, blocking the cold from reaching her exposed skin.

Snow, Eva had decided, was one of her mortal enemies. Not quite as high on her list as Sawyer, but still somewhere up there. Maybe it was because of her treatments, or maybe it was just having lived in Florida for most of her life. Whatever it was, the cold just did not agree with her.

Running barefoot–the cold of the snow didn’t bother her exoskeleton much–Eva made her way to Devon’s building. She sprinted straight to the top, feeling no fatigue in her legs. She pounded out three short knocks on the door.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Eva was almost confident that he was in. Devon never left if he could help it.

However, there would usually be a sign that he was in. The tell-tale sound of books snapping shut, drawers snapping shut, jars clanking closed, or some other manner of him hiding whatever he was doing.

This time, there was nothing but silence.

“Master?” Eva called out as she knocked again. “Are you home?”

Again, Eva waited. Again, nothing answered but silence.

Trying the handle, Eva blinked in surprise. It wasn’t even locked.

Something was definitely wrong. It didn’t matter if her master was in or out, he almost never forgot to lock the door.

She pushed the door inwards. With cautious steps, Eva moved inside, half expecting a trap.

No flames exploded in her face. No shackles had been set up around the door. There wasn’t even a trip-wire hooked up to a shelf of unpleasant potions.

Devon was missing as well.

His bed was made, his books were neatly set into the shelf, and his desk was clean of any work. The uncanny tidiness of it all served to draw Eva’s eye to the center of the room.

A half-drawn pattern covered the floor. It wasn’t like any summoning circle Eva had ever seen. In fact, it wasn’t even a circle. Part of it was missing, but it would have formed a triangle if it had been finished. The part that was missing looked more like a miniature explosion had gone off. Part of the stone ground was chipped and scattered about the room.

Eva knelt down right at the edge. Even damaged, she wasn’t interested in stepping in the center. In fact, because it was damaged, she should definitely keep out. There could be residual magic hiding in the inscriptions if the ritual had been activated. Who knew what kind of nasty effects that could cause.

Unfortunately, Eva didn’t recognize any of the scribbles on the whole side of the triangle. Some looked a lot closer to the designs within her treatment ritual circle than any other demonic magics. But, from what Eva knew, they were all wrong.

“Just what was he trying to do?” Eva mumbled to herself.

“None of your business.”

Eva jumped, whirling around to find Devon standing in the doorway. She had been so concentrated on the markings on the floor that she hadn’t even checked for any blood systems around her.

He stepped forward, trench coat billowing behind him. “You just barge into my room? I remember when you had some respect for me.”

“I was worried about you,” Eva said with a frown. That frown turned into a good-natured smile. “Besides, all that respect vanished out the window when I met some people who could actually fight with magic. Imagine my surprise when I find out that you’re not as good as you claim to be.” After a faux-sigh, Eva said, “I guess you’ll just have to content yourself with the fact that you’re the number one demonologist I know.”

“Such cheek,” he said with a sneer.

Eva just laughed.

“I suppose you being here does save me the effort of writing a letter. I got a job in Colorado.”

“A ‘job’ job?” Eva said as she stood up. “Or a real job?”

“There are rumors of a nihasa running around. Some kid probably summoned it and got killed, freeing it to roam.”

“A ‘job’ then. I’m not familiar with a nihasa.”

“Minor demon. Like if a succubus and an imp had a kid that took mostly from the imp side of the family.”

Eva frowned slightly. Imps were sort of disgusting little things. Almost like goblins, except worse. Barely sentient at that. And a succubus? Some people were into some pretty strange things.

After shaking her head, Eva asked, “need any help?”

“Not from you. I’m going to be giving out a few trial runs to some demons.”

Eva blinked. “Undominated?”

He just gave a grunt of acknowledgment, brushing around past her to his desk. He opened the bottom drawer and started rummaging through.

“Well,” Eva said, “if you’re going to be running around with undominated demons, maybe you would be interested in a real job.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” he asked without glancing up.

“Martina Turner wanted me to let you know that there was a job offer at Brakket for you. Teaching kids.”

“I’d rather throw myself down that giant hole in Ylva’s domain.”

Eva nodded, curling a strand of hair around her finger. “I thought as much. When are you going to be back?”

“In time for your February treatment.” He continued rummaging for a few seconds before freezing solid. His neck craned his head over his shoulder. “Don’t you dare send a haunter after me again.”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

Devon pulled a small black rectangle from the desk. A tiny book. He shook it in Eva’s direction. “Don’t send any damn demons after me. I can take care of myself. Now get out. I’ve got to collect a few things and then I’m gone.”

Eva shrugged and started towards the door.

“And Eva,” Devon called as she reached the threshold. “Don’t get yourself killed while I’m gone.”

“I could say the same about you.”

Eva stepped into the spare room in her women’s ward. Even with the door opened, the light failed to penetrate far enough to reach the opposite wall. There was nothing but shadows.

And eight red eyes glowing in the darkness.

“Hello Eva.”

“You know, I didn’t ever say that you had to lock yourself up in the dark like this.”

There was a slight pause as the eight red eyes tilted to one side. “I prefer it this way.”

“Fair enough.” Eva slid the door open as wide as it could possibly go. Just enough light entered to reveal a thin fold of cloth held in Arachne’s hands. “Another one?”

Arachne held it up to the light, letting the long tapestry unfold in its full glory.

A life-sized portrait of Eva stared back at the real girl.

It looked like her, but the pose and expression just didn’t fit with reality. Arachne fashioned her as some sort of empress. Really, it was like looking at Ylva with black hair and red eyes. Though it wasn’t quite finished. Arachne was working upwards. The top half of her head was missing entirely.

“Me again? Why not you?”

“Weaving is something I do to pass the time. I have more than enough of myself back in Hell. There is no shortage of time there.”

“How about us then? Both of us, together. Defeating foes or just sitting around resting.”

“Maybe.” With a swift movement of several legs poking out of her back, Arachne pulled the tapestry back up into her lap. “After I finish this one.”

At the rate Arachne worked, she could probably start a new one tonight.

As if to demonstrate said speed, Arachne set to work. One leg held the vertical tapestry base taut and another maneuvered in and out of the vertical threads while the rest started weaving threads horizontally. Her hands focused on knot making and finer details of the colorful portions of the thread.

Without glancing away from her work, Arachne said, “what brings you here? Surely not to comment on my work.”

“I…” Eva trailed off.

If she told Arachne about the job that the dean wanted her to do, Arachne would insist on coming to school again. For Eva’s protection, of course. She’d been around the spider-demon enough to know how she would react to something like that.

But Arachne had chosen this self-imposed exile on her own. Forcing the demon out by putting herself in danger, perceived or real, wouldn’t solve anything. Arachne had to come out on her own.

So, instead of telling her about the lessons, Eva sighed. “I don’t like this. Our current situation, that is. I enjoyed spending time together. Just relaxing in the dorm room with Juliana and Shalise. No necromancers to worry about, no Hell encroaching on the mortal realm.”

The movements of Arachne’s hands slowed to a standstill.

Though she didn’t know what she expected, Eva waited patiently for a response.

“How is school?”

Eva blinked. She couldn’t remember a single time where Arachne had asked such a mundane question. Shaking her head, Eva put on a solemn smile. “Subdued. For me at least. Everyone else carries on like nothing happened.”

“No troubles from Zagan?”

“He teaches his class without acknowledging me any more than any other student.”

“Good,” Arachne said, fingers moving again. After another awkward moment of silence, she started speaking. “I am fond of you, Eva. It gnaws at me that I am not with you. But after recent events, I think I need time to consider what you said regarding trust. Weaving allows me to occupy my hands as much as my mind. Perhaps after my next work, I’ll rejoin you.”

Eva pressed her lips together. That was better than staying inside a dark room forever.

“Alright. I’ll leave you to your weaving then.”

“Farewell, Eva.”

With one last look at the melancholic spider-demon, Eva stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

One last thing before she could turn in for the night.

Eva once again dug out her book, The Arte of Bloode Magicks, and carried it into her bedroom.

Setting it open to a page roughly half-way through, Eva put the book on a small stand.

The top of her dresser was where Eva stored all of the nicknacks she had acquired in recent months. Years, even.

The original beacon and necklace that Arachne had fashioned for her hung from a nail sticking out of the wall. Just under was the void metal skull created by Ylva from a lich’s phylactery. An embossed copper engraving was propped up to one side showing a smiling Eva with a spider-mode Arachne sitting atop her head. Her old crystal dagger sat to one side along with Weilks’ partially decomposed bloodstone.

There were a few other odds and ends, mostly the non-perishable Christmas presents she had been given over the course of two years by Jordan and company. The moon pendant he had given a year ago was draped over the copper plate.

Eva’s attention was focused on one specific Christmas present.

“You thought I forgot about you, didn’t you,” Eva said as she nudged the miniature form of a sleeping Basilisk.

Its wide mouth opened in a long yawn as it always did when disturbed from its sleep mode–almost sending Eva into a yawn of her own.

“Alright,” Eva held out her hand. “Hop on.”

The nuisance took one look at her hand before settling its head back onto its coils.

Eva bopped it on the snout.

Basila snapped at her fingers. Whatever mental limitations the Rivases had installed kept it from actually biting, but it wasn’t afraid to show its displeasure.

“Hand. Now.”

With no small amount of lethargy, it slithered over. All the while, it maintained eye contact, trying its hardest to turn Eva to stone.

“So impotent,” Eva said with a chuckle. “But we’ll fix that.”

She carried it over to a pre-cleared section of the floor and dropped it on the ground.

It promptly curled up, glaring at her as if to complain about being woken up in the first place. It was a sculpture, but maybe getting it some exercise every now and again would do it some good.

Shaking her head, Eva reached around her back. Her fingers curled around the smooth hilt of her void dagger. She glanced over the blade once, reaffirming that it was still as sharp as ever, before plunging it deep into the crook of her arm.

Just above where her flesh and carapace mixed.

Pitch-black blood exploded forth.

Eva drew it out, forming a circle around the basilisk. Following the directions in the open book, she drew out lines and diagrams within the circle. A squiggle here, a symbol of venom there.

It didn’t take long and it wasn’t backbreaking work in the slightest. Eva was almost certain that rituals had been phased out of use simply because of how undignified a mage must look hunched over scribbling out intricate patterns with a stick of chalk. Earth mages could alleviate the hard work if they were good enough, but controlling powder to such a fine degree wasn’t easy.

With blood, Eva could control the entire formation with her mind. It was fast, quick, and she could do it relaxed in a chair or standing with her back straight.

Circle finished, Eva withdrew a vial of Arachne’s blood.

She almost wished she had done this before visiting Arachne. Eva had never felt quite so awkward around the spider-demon as she had in the last few weeks. Just walking in and asking for blood was far more awkward than merely visiting for a chat.

Pushing the thought out of her mind, Eva used her magic to manipulate the demon’s blood into a hovering sphere just above the coiled snake. She added a few drops of her own blood to the sphere. It would dilute it, but she really needed a part of herself to ensure some control and loyalty.

She quickly scanned the book. Eva took a deep breath. She could see her own heart beating faster and faster. If something went wrong, who knew what might happen.

But nothing appeared amiss in her preparations, so she pressed forward.

Her magic channeled down into the ritual circle. Dark red light leaked out of the lines of blood. Eva kept up her channeling of magic. The book said they should glow white, so Eva would make sure they glowed white.

Of course, the book was written with human blood in mind. When the color turned a light brown and didn’t appear to change after that, Eva cut off her magic.

That didn’t make the glow disappear. Her magic was still trapped within the circle. It needed somewhere to go.

In retrospect, performing the ritual in one of the burnt out ruins would have been a much better plan. At least if it exploded, it wouldn’t destroy her home.

Eva extended a thin tendril of her and Arachne’s blood down onto the snake. The moment it touched, she could feel it working. More and more of the blood siphoned itself off of the blood ball and into the snake, fusing with its sculpted skin.

That was the most nerve-wracking part of the ritual. It was designed to work on an actual living creature. A cat, a dog, an owl… Whatever the mage had for a companion.

She hadn’t been sure it would work on the basilisk. It wasn’t real, after all. But everything proceeded as the book said it would. The tips of its dark green scales gained a deep black luster. Through its partially opened mouth, Eva spotted its white fangs turning as black as her carapace.

The book said the teeth would turn red, but again, it was written for someone using human blood.

Eva gave a sigh of relief as the last of Arachne’s blood disappeared into the snake’s skin. The ritual circle had lost its glow. After wiping away most of the circle with her hand, Eva picked up her basilisk.

It immediately curled around her fingers, winding between each before facing Eva and giving her a long hiss. Like the scales, the tip of its forked tongue had turned a deep black. Basila’s steely eyes remained as silver as before, though now it had black veins that started at its slit-pupils and spread out like jagged legs of a starfish.

In addition, Eva could actually sense blood within the thing. It wasn’t like any living creature she had ever heard of. The blood was in a thin tube that started at its nose and reached the tip of its tail.

Eva brought her finger close to its mouth.

Without hesitation, the basilisk lunged forward.

And was held back by the mental limitations of the sculpture.

Eva sighed. That had to go. Normally, she would just ask Genoa or Carlos. Unfortunately, she wasn’t certain that either wanted to see her at the moment.

“Maybe Zoe has some ideas,” Eva mused.

Basila just hissed again.

Behavioral problems could be corrected later. If this ritual worked properly, she should be able to keep it from attacking anything she didn’t want attacked.

“And maybe I can steal some growth potions from Wayne.”

After all, who wouldn’t want a giant battle basilisk.

<– Back | Index | Next –>

006.001

<– Back | Index | Next –>

Returning to school just wasn’t quite the same. It didn’t feel right. So much had happened and so much was going to happen that sitting in class and practicing thaumaturgy just felt unimportant. Like being concerned over a mosquito bite while bleeding out from a missing arm.

Eva leaned back in her chair and shut her eyes. She was supposed to be practicing heat manipulation.

None of Isaac Calvin’s directions actually made it to her conscious thoughts. The unending swirl and churn of her worries and imagination all mixed up into one gigantic nightmare. Naturally, such a nightmare occluded most everything unrelated.

Someone or something was trying to pull Void out of whatever plane of existence in which He resided.

Without knowing much about Void or how Powers operated, existed, or worked, most of Eva’s worries stemmed directly from her imagination.

In her imagination, Void was like a planet. Or perhaps an entire solar system. Maybe even a galaxy. A galaxy filled with tens of billions of demons.

It probably wasn’t a very good comparison. Planes of existence were so abstract in every way that a galaxy seemed too normal, too relatable. They were the realms of Powers, inhabited and created by them at the same time.

Despite having been to Hell itself, Eva couldn’t confess any knowledge about how it worked. There were islands and water. And that was it. Travel within Hell was done through the waters, so that must be some connecting factor that linked the place together.

When Eva stepped back from the islands and water to consider just how the layout of the place worked, her mind went blank. A sudden moment of absolutely zero thought going on within her brain. She would always snap back to reality with a surge of fear-fueled adrenaline.

Eva didn’t consider herself frightened of much, but nothing scared her beyond anything else. The idea of an absence of herself, her very being, sent shivers up her spine. It stretched the limits of comprehension and filled Eva’s very soul with an innate sense of wrongness. Void illimitable and so thorough that should her conscious thought vanish, so too might reality itself.

The longer she thought about such things at once, the greater the horror upon snapping back to conscious thought.

Shaking her head, Eva found herself with a layer of uncanny sweat formed on her skin. Again, she was falling prey to her own wandering mind.

That instant blank of her mind when she considered Void was so close to nothing that she couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t the reason for Void being named as such.

With regard to all that, thinking of Void as a galaxy solved so many problems.

A galaxy was relatable. Imaginable. Though she had never objectively seen a galaxy with her own eyes–Eva barely glanced up at stars in the night sky–she had seen a number of pictures and drawings. Most of those came from her time in regular public schooling prior to enrolling at Brakket Academy.

Considering the immense size of galaxies and the empty space between might boggle the mind. However, boggle was a far cry from the existential blank of her deeper thoughts regarding Void. She would much prefer a little boggling.

Regardless of how Void would end up manifesting within the mortal plane, Eva held no doubts that it would be anything short of apocalyptic.

Even assuming that Void could enter the mortal plane in a benign manner, the demons that would undoubtedly come along with Him would likely be hostile towards most of humanity.

Those that wouldn’t be hostile to all humans, herself, Ylva, Arachne, and any others, wouldn’t do humanity many favors. Any war between demons fought on Earth would likely destroy it.

And Eva hadn’t the slightest clue as to how she could stop either a war or Void entering the mortal plane. Zagan seemed at a loss. He was back to teaching his combat class, flippant as always.

Far from what she had expected of the Devil. She had expected him to run off and find out who or what was doing the actual Void-to-mortal-plane thing. Then again, maybe he wanted it to happen. Just because Eva couldn’t see any benefits to having Void and all the demons roaming around Earth did not mean that Zagan felt the same.

“Eva.”

Eva snapped her eyes open. Isaac Calvin stood at the front of the room, looking at her. Not a hostile look, nor a look of reprimand for having her eyes closed, nor even an apologetic look. Just a look.

At his side stood the ever-sultry Catherine. Unlike the good professor, Eva could feel the daggers that the succubus glared with.

Why? Who knew? Eva didn’t. Neither did she care. She hadn’t done a single thing to the succubus to warrant such a glare. Not that she could remember, at least. Eva narrowed her eyes at Catherine ever so slightly.

Taking her attention from the succubus, Eva glanced back to Isaac Calvin. “Yes? Professor?”

“Dean Turner wishes to see you in her office.” He gestured to his side, “Catherine will accompany you.”

Eva’s first reaction was to ask what the dean wanted to talk about. She quickly discarded that notion.

Anything Martina Turner had to say would likely not be something everyone in her class should hear.

Looking at the clock behind the professor’s shoulders, Eva decided to pack up her bag. There were only ten minutes left in class. Even if the dean only spoke for a few seconds, coming back to class would be a waste of time.

It wasn’t like she was participating in class anyway.

After shoveling her books into her bag, Eva stood and walked past the two empty chairs at her table.

Neither Shalise nor Juliana had been in class since November. Shalise, being still in Hell, would find it troublesome to show up. Juliana was still at her mother’s side in whatever hospital they had ended up at.

Eva wasn’t certain if the latter was going to or even wanted to return to Brakket.

On her way out, she did give a light wave to Jordan, Shelby, and Irene. Shelby returned the wave and Jordan gave a light smile. Irene, on the other hand, pressed her lips together before giving a curt nod.

Since returning to school, Eva hadn’t had much opportunity to speak with any of them. Most every moment of free time was spent back at the prison with Devon and Ylva. Lunches had been silent and awkward for the most part. No real room for discussion there.

Which wasn’t a good thing. Jordan and Shelby had been the ones to inform everyone about Zagan’s nefarious actions towards Shalise and Juliana. They had known to go talk to Ylva and had known who Zagan was.

That warranted, at the very least, asking how they knew such things.

As she walked behind Catherine, Eva made a note to corner Jordan sometime and ask him a few questions.

Politely, of course. They were friends, not enemies or anything.

Martina Turner’s office was just a quick jaunt down the hallway. During their walk, Catherine never once spoke a word. She didn’t turn around. She barely even sauntered.

If Eva had to guess, the succubus was depressed. And angry. More angry than depressed, in fact. As they walked, Eva’s mind drifted back to that glare. She still hadn’t puzzled out what it had meant, but perhaps Catherine was just angry enough at Eva to withhold her seductive wiles.

More of a punishment for the succubus than for Eva, if she was honest with herself. As expected of a member of the succubi race, Catherine had an almost objectively perfect body. Eva just found herself objectively uninterested.

Catherine paused at her desk. She leaned over–unseductively–and hit a button on her phone.

Half a moment later, Martina’s voice crackled through the speaker. “Yes?”

“Eva’s here.”

“Don’t just stand out there, bring her in!” There was a loud crash on the other end of the line just before the little red light blinked off.

Eva caught a ghost of a smile cross Catherine’s face as she moved over towards the door.

Martina sat behind her desk. Her elbows were resting on her desk while her fingers were steepled beneath her nose. On either side behind her were the two black-coated security personnel.

Lucy smiled and waved. She snapped back to attention after earning a glare from her compatriot. He–Eva couldn’t remember his name–rolled his eyes and faced forward.

Eva might feel comforted at the idea that Lucy found her presence enjoyable. Unfortunately, she had little doubt that the demon was at least partially unstable. She would kill Eva with that same smile on her face at the first request from Martina Turner.

Long ago, there was a time where Eva frequently found herself scared of Arachne. Probably owing to the circumstances surrounding their initial meeting. Even nowadays, Eva occasionally grew nervous in Arachne’s presence. Especially since returning from Hell.

How could Martina Turner, a perfectly normal human, stand having two demons standing at her back? One constantly made low gurgling noises while the other eyed everything in the room as if deciding in which order he would destroy everything.

Then there was Catherine. While less likely to outright murder everyone simply on account of her being a succubus, Eva knew that the secretary did not like her master.

But then, Martina might not be mentally stable either. Not entirely, at least. She did keep constant company with Zagan. If even half of Devon’s complaints about the devil were true, it was almost a miracle that Martina hadn’t already been killed.

Eva stood around as Catherine came into the room, closing the door behind her. For a good minute, no one said anything. Martina merely eyed her from behind her hands, the morail stared off at some ceiling tile, and Lucy bounced on her heels. Catherine pulled out a smartphone and started tapping away.

Remembering the dean’s earlier power plays with Ylva, Eva sighed. She could definitely understand why Catherine disliked the woman. Perhaps it would be possible to poach Catherine off of Martina. Eva would have to look up some information about familiar bonds, though it might all be a moot idea anyway. If Catherine didn’t like her better, there was no reason to alter the status quo.

Besides, she already had Arachne to worry about.

“Unless you’ve summoned me here to deliver reparations for Zagan’s actions towards Shalise and Juliana, I’m leaving.”

After another few seconds of silence, Eva turned on her heel and reached for the door.

“Eva,” Martina said. “You’ve heard why Zagan did what he did.”

Ignoring the woman, Eva tried the door.

Locked, of course.

Eva started building up magic for a teleportation to the prison as she turned to Martina.

“That doesn’t excuse his casual disregard for my friends.”

“And,” she continued, in a tone that suggested she was ignoring Eva’s statement, “Miss Rivas even thanked Zagan for his actions.”

Eva raised an eyebrow.

“You didn’t know that, but it’s true. I was present alongside Catherine and Governor Anderson. Even if you distrust Catherine and myself, Governor Anderson doesn’t particularly like Zagan or myself. Ask him to confirm it.”

“I will,” Eva said.

Governor Anderson had been wandering around since Eva’s return. He never once spoke to her, mostly choosing to spend his time moving from place to place with a sweeping coat. Eva would have assumed him to be a part of Martina’s demon security had Jordan not greeted him between classes one time.

“If there is nothing else you wanted?”

“Actually,” Martina said as she leaned back in her chair, “I have a certain initiative that I would like to start. Among students. Another club, if you will. Potentially a full-blown elective course for the fifth and sixth year students.”

“You’re really dancing around the subject.”

Martina pulled back her lips into a not-so-kind smile. “I would like to enlist Devon Foster and get his assistance and expertise in instructing a select group of students.”

Eva blinked. Her mind crawled through processing exactly what Martina had implied. Devon’s name wasn’t one she expected to hear. As a teacher no less.

That thought sent Eva into a short fit of giggles. She doubled over, hands clutching at her sides.

“Something the matter?”

“Just,” Eva took in a deep breath of air, “just picturing him in a room with a bunch of students.”

“And what is wrong with that?”

“You’ve clearly never met him.” Eva sighed. It had been a long time since she really laughed. The feeling was somewhat euphoric. “Devon in a room with twenty kids? Recipe for disaster. He hates kids. Including me, I’m pretty sure. And what would he be qualified to teach, summoning demons?” Eva let out a short chuckle.

“Exactly.”

Eva’s laughter died off. Martina wasn’t laughing. “You’re serious.”

“Entirely.”

Eva stared.

Martina Turner’s face betrayed no deception.

Finally, Eva shook her head. “I misspoke earlier. He doesn’t hate kids. He thinks they’re annoying and should leave him alone to his research. What he does hate, however, are demons. He loathes the entire population of Hell.”

“He’s a man so steeped in diablery, yet hates demons?”

Demonologist. And he loathes them. Aside from Arachne, every demon he has ever summoned, to my knowledge, has been subjected to domination.” Catherine and the morail both flinched. Lucy was too busy off in la-la land to notice. “Not to mention,” Eva said, “he would never work in such close proximity to Zagan.

“And that isn’t even getting into the fact that you want a bunch of kids to summon demons. Are you insane? A couple loose will make Sawyer look like a peaceful hippy.”

“You heard Zagan,” Martina said. “Demons may be flooding to Earth in the future. It is important now more than ever to broaden people’s horizons. To interact with demons, to know demons, and, if necessary, to fight demons. Widespread knowledge of shackles alone could save millions.”

“Starting with a few kids is the way to go then?”

“Children are the future,” Martina said, smiling as she leaned back and clasped her hands across her stomach. “What better place to start could there possibly be?”

Eva shook her head with a laugh of disbelief. “Doesn’t matter either way. I can ask him, but I guarantee that he will vehemently decline.”

“In that case, you step up and help teach your fellow students.”

“What? I know hardly anything about–”

“You don’t need to. Catherine will be the primary instructor.”

The succubus grit her teeth together loud enough for Eva to hear.

Ah, Eva thought, she isn’t angry at me, she’s just angry.

“Being a demon, Catherine is quite knowledgeable about the subject. You need to provide a human element. Perspective from a human point of view. Things that a demon wouldn’t think to consider.”

“You want me to babysit Catherine while she teaches–”

The bell signaling the end of class interrupted Eva. She let the annoying chime complete its tones before speaking again.

“Kids are stupid. You know that right? One of these idiots is going to get themselves killed. Others too.”

“The initial test group will all be properly screened for any troublesome individuals. Aside from that, you are a child. You had to have started dipping your fingers in diablery quite some time ago. While I haven’t seen any of her work personally, Zagan informed me that Juliana’s summoning circle was passable and the relative strength of the demons we have attributed to her summoning was not low.”

“And look where that has gotten us!” Eva waved one chitinous hand through the air for emphasis. “I’m barely human anymore. I don’t particularly mind, but others? I can’t speak for them. And Juliana? It was Zagan’s fault in the first place! Her mother might be bedridden for life because of demons.”

“That’s a pessimistic outlook.”

“Now you want to bring other kids into this? How long before one of them gets trapped in Hell, sharing their body with a demon?”

Eva pressed her fingers to her forehead and slowly shook her head. “You know what? I don’t even care. Because of Shalise and Juliana’s recent experiences, I’m getting worked up over a bunch of people I probably haven’t even interacted with.

“So I’ll tell you what. I’ll do it.”

“Excellent. Catherine, start–”

“Not so fast, Martina Turner. You have something I want.”

The dean narrowed her eyes. “What would that be, Eva Spencer?”

Clenching her jaw, Eva folded her arms. “Zagan.”

Catherine whipped her head over and spoke for the first time since entering the room. Her face twisted into a look of disgust. “You want Zagan?”

Eva dismissed the succubus with a wave of her hand. “Not in whatever manner is floating through your mind. Order Zagan to get Shalise out of Hell. Order Zagan to fix Juliana’s mother. Do that and I’ll teach your stupid class.”

A silence settled over the office, broken only by a light gurgling from Lucy’s corner of the room.

The silence gave way to a deep chuckle from behind Eva.

Eva narrowed her eyes. She did not turn around. A circulatory system matching Zagan’s had appeared behind her immediately before the chuckle.

“So demanding, my little embryonic one. What has you all fired up?”

“Can you do it or not?” she demanded. He hadn’t even been here to hear, but Eva had no doubts that he had heard.

“Oh I can. With hardly any effort on my part as well.” A hand clapped down on Eva’s shoulder. “Can is a far cry from will.”

Eva steeled herself. She wasn’t about to let Devon’s rhetoric dictate a fear of Zagan. Like most demons in Eva’s experience, Zagan liked politeness. He hadn’t hurt her, directly at least.

Except that one time when they first met. He had pulled her arms off. But he fixed them right away, so did it still count?

“You see, you must ask yourself one question. Does what I offer meet the worth of what I am asking?” He let out a snort, filling the air with the rancid odor of sulfur. “I don’t know that a little teaching position is worth all that much. You know what I mean, yeah?”

“And what, Zagan, would be worth it?”

“That, little one,” he said in a mocking tone of voice, “is something you will have to find out for yourself. Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to think it over while you keep dear Catherine out of trouble.”

Catherine let out a sharp scoff, but otherwise remained silent.

Eva ceased speaking as well. Her own teeth were grinding about as hard as Catherine’s had been. Zagan implying that she would accept irked her, but also gave some hope that he might actually help.

The real question was just what Zagan might consider valuable enough to help her friends.

“This is a disaster waiting to happen. I’ll sit in on the stupid class, but don’t come crying to me when the school is set aflame.”

“Excellent,” Zagan said as he clapped her on the back. “I knew we could count on you.”

Eva clenched her fists as Zagan moved up towards Martina’s desk. After a single calming breath, she relaxed. Much better than Catherine was doing, Eva noted out of the corner of her eye. The lesser succubus was actually shaking in rage.

“Zagan,” Eva said, “are you doing anything to stop Hell from being brought into the world?”

He paused his movements, glancing back over his shoulder, he said, “no. Not a thing.”

“You want it to happen.”

“I think,” he said slowly, “that it would be a bad thing–”

“Then why–”

A vice grip clamped down on Eva’s jaw. Zagan’s fingers clenched to the point where Eva could feel the strain in her bones.

“Don’t interrupt me, Eva. I do not appreciate it.”

He held on for another moment until Eva managed a slight nod of her head. When he pulled away, his fingers stuck to the thin layer of perspiration on her skin. It took a conscious force of effort to avoid rubbing her face. There would definitely be a mark there in the morning.

Unless, Eva considered, I can make the marks go away with blood magic. Redness and bruises were both caused by blood beneath the skin. It should be possible to clear it out.

But not at the moment. Eva remained silent as she waited for Zagan to continue speaking.

“It would be a bad thing. Void being in the mortal realm would open Him up to attacks. Make Him vulnerable. Potentially to the point of destruction. The why,” he said, narrowing his golden eyes, “is simply because it is something that has never happened before.

“If it comes down to a battle for survival, I will fight. And I will win. Because that is simply what I do. Anything else will be interesting to watch.”

Eva waited for a moment extra, just to ensure that he had finished speaking. “Because you’re bored?”

“A very good reason to do things,” Zagan snapped. “Finding ways to pass the time without boring myself to death is a much better reason to do something than most mortals have for committing atrocities.”

“If someone were to try to stop it,” Eva said, “would you stop them?”

“You? You mean?” He laughed. Both of the demons behind Martina hedged away from his rumbling bass tones. Martina herself managed to remain steady, though she did glance over at him with narrowed eyes. “Not even I know what is causing it nor how to stop it. Some massive ritual, I presume. Granted, I’m not actively looking. If someone were to try to stop it?” He shrugged. “It wouldn’t be any fun if I intervened too much. In the meantime, Catherine, fetch me a bucket of popcorn!”

The succubus jumped at being addressed. The surprise on her face quickly turned to a scowl. She opened her mouth for just a moment before snapping it shut. She turned and walked out of the room, apparently having decided that Zagan was serious.

Eva turned back to the rest of the room. She decided that she didn’t have much to say to them either. Martina Turner would pull her out of class at some point, presumably, for more details about the nonsense with diablery class.

With a quick thought, her built up magic discharged and swept Eva from the room.

A high-pitched scream filled Eva’s ears. No matter how much she tried to ignore it, it pierced her like a needle to the brain. Burning heat tore her flesh from her bones as she flew through a tunnel of viscera.

The agony induced by her method of teleportation was half as intense as it used to be. This time in the previous year, all flesh was seared off in the heat. Even her bones had turned black and charred.

Now, however, most of her bones were already black. A shiny sheen covered them in a manner similar to her carapace, rather than the charcoal-esque burning and cracking of her bones even a year ago. Even some of her muscles managed to weather the storm–especially those near Arachne’s limbs which were unaffected by the process entirely.

The heat didn’t touch her eyes either. Something Eva was extremely grateful for. She had had enough eye horror in the last few years to last a lifetime.

When her women’s ward gate spat her out, she still stumbled, gasping for breath. It wasn’t as bad, but the pain was still there. She had thought she might build up a tolerance for it, but every time she teleported, it felt exactly the same.

She needed more treatments.

Grasping at the water bottle she had started keeping inside the gate room, Eva uncapped it and took a long drink, moistening her sore throat. She tossed the empty plastic into a small trash bin without a second glance as she made her way into the common room.

Without pomp or circumstance, Eva flopped over on her couch. She needed to get to Devon and tell him about the dean’s plan. At this point, she wasn’t sure whether he would burst out laughing or start swearing up a storm at Martina’s idiocy. Probably some combination of the two.

Arachne could be told as well. But that could probably wait.

No, it could definitely wait.

Using as few muscles as possible, Eva stretched a hand under the couch and pulled out her current research project.

The Arte of Bloode Magicks

<– Back | Index | Next –>

005.005

<– Back | Index | Next –>

Wayne kept his fireball steadily humming in front of the two of them. A warning that he could and would protect himself at any sign of hostility. She, in turn, had one arm linked around his like they were a couple. Her other arm kept Zoe pressed against her chest.

Despite his growing tension, Serena was the picture of relaxation. She leaned her head against his arm, knowing yet uncaring of the flames just inches away. A show of power? Or stupidity.

Either way, she hadn’t attacked him yet. Wayne was willing to entertain her at least until his arm was no longer in immediate danger of being torn off.

“How old?” Wayne asked.

“Fifty-six. I was sixteen when I joined the ranks of the undead.”

Half a century? Wayne thought with a frown.

So long as she wasn’t lying again, that might kill his theory on vampire hair. While it was entirely possible to go fifty years without suffering hair damage–mortals did it all the time minus the regular hair-cuts–vampires tended to lead lives filled with significantly more danger than their human counterparts. She must have regrown some at some point.

Unless she wore some illusion covering up any permanent injuries.

Wayne tried to remember whether or not he had touched her hair and came up blank. It looked real. As she rubbed her cheek against his sleeve, the shoulder-length strands of black hair moved naturally against the fabric.

“You look good for being twice my age,” Wayne prodded.

Serena looked up with a wide grin, visible even behind her mask. “Thank you,” she said. If there was any doubt about her smiling, it vanished when she spoke. Her smile came through audible in her voice. “I do try. I’m glad you appreciate my efforts.”

That answer could go either way. Finding he really didn’t care no matter what she said, Wayne moved his fireball closer as he moved on to a more important question. “This disaster in the city, is it you or yours who caused it?”

“Please,” Serena said, dismissing the notion with a wave of her arm. “There is a phrase. ‘Don’t shit where you eat.’ I believe at least half of it is very literal in these circumstances.”

In moving her arm, she jolted Wayne’s slowly mending bones. Noticing his grimace, Serena stilled as much as possible.

How kind of her, Wayne thought with a bit of mental derision.

“Starting just after Thanksgiving,” she said, tone more somber, “there was a meeting. All the vampires in the city had been called to it, even independents. Not something I usually participate in. The clans leave me alone and I leave them alone.

“I was the only independent who attended. The others, along with about half the Feral vampires and three of the ten August, were dead. Ashes had been found. Ferals thought it was the August and vice versa. Naturally, the meeting devolved into a war with a mere three August coming out alive.”

“Let me guess,” Wayne said, interrupting. “It wasn’t the Feral clan.”

Serena nodded. “I personally found the ash of three August at the meeting place just before Christmas. Humans had started disappearing.”

“You wondered if they were involved.”

“Oddly enough, the area didn’t look like it had been through another fight. More like the sun had risen inside the windowless cellar. At that point, I started making plans to leave the city. I was the last vampire in Lansing and had no intention of suffering the same fate as the clans.”

Wayne nodded. “Traveling isn’t easy for a vampire.”

“Nights only, no steady food supply, no real destination, no safe lairs along the way, no knowing the local politics of anywhere you pass through. I’ve been in Lansing for fifty years and it hasn’t been by choice.

“But as I was preparing to leave, new vampires started popping up. Feral and August for the most part. I did notice one Mekhet.” Serena clapped her hands together, only moving the one that had held Zoe to avoid jostling Wayne’s arm. “Guess what strain the other independents belonged to!”

Wayne didn’t bother to dignify that with a response.

“Anyway,” Serena continued undeterred, “I managed to keep most of them from acting out. None of them had proper sires to show them our ways. The story I gave you originally belonged to the two I had been traveling with. Most shared similar stories. At least until New Year’s Eve, I kept them in line. Forcefully, if I had to.

“On New Year’s Eve, people started waking up as vampires. Too many people. The city quickly devolved into chaos, as you have seen.”

Disturbing, if true. Sarah should have noticed people going missing. Surely it had been in the news. Unlike Serena, she wouldn’t have had the vampiric issues with traveling back before Christmas.

Wayne let a small curse escape his lips. Sarah could have called and mentioned that something was going on, even if the disappearances turned out to be an entirely mundane act of psychopathy. Part of it was his fault, he knew. After their parents’ death, Wayne had been adamant about not continuing the dragon ranch.

Serena rubbed the top of Zoe’s head. “I could have slipped past the military with ease, but I knew for a fact that the nuns were out hunting those who escaped the barricade. I’ve never seen one in person, and still hope I never do. The Lansing clans were terrified of drawing their attention. We all knew how to keep our heads down.”

“Not far enough down. Whoever killed your friends found out about you. And I don’t think it was the Elysium Order.”

“At this point, I don’t care. As you told the other scum, this city is done for. I watched you enter the city and assumed you had a plan to leave. We should execute that plan sooner rather than later.”

Ignoring the fact that he most certainly had no definite plan to leave, Wayne asked, “but you decided to attack me before asking to come with me?”

“If you couldn’t handle a few week-old vampires,” she said without the slightest hint of shame, “how could I trust you with my safety?”

“You’re awfully trusting right now,” Wayne said, flashing the fireball white-hot for a brief instant. “I could end you now and not lose a moment of sleep. I should end you before you attempt any mind tricks on me.”

“You haven’t yet,” she said. “And I won’t.” Behind her mask, Serena’s eyes narrowed to thin slits. “Did you see that repulsive thrall, lapping at the ground? I am a higher class of vampire.”

Wayne gave a short grunt of acknowledgment. Extinguishing the ball of fire in front of him, he replaced his tome under the crook of his arm. The movement was somewhat awkward with only one hand, but he managed.

Extinguishing the fire set off some sort of catalyst in Serena. She lifted up his injured arm, carefully, and slung it over her own shoulders.

He tried to pull away, but she wouldn’t let go. At the first touch of pain, Wayne ceased moving and resigned himself to having a vampire under his arm.

For now.

“I am not your servant. Nor am I your lover or,” Wayne sneered behind his mask, “husband.”

“That’s okay,” she said, snuggling closer, “I have what I want.”

“The moment we are out of this city, you’re free to do as you will. Sarah and I won’t be a part of it.” He glanced down at Zoe and, after a moment of thought, added, “Zoe will be coming with us as well.” He could find her a set of proper parents at the very least. Being raised by vampires, even if Serena didn’t turn her into one, couldn’t be good for her mental health.

Upon hearing her name, Zoe glanced up.

Wayne was surprised to see somewhat angry eyes glaring at him from behind her mask’s visor. That surprise only increased when Zoe wrapped one arm around Serena.

Great. Just great.

That gave the vampire a short laugh as she started patting the kid’s head. “Are you sure about that?”

“Being raised by–”

“Not Zoe, cute though she is,” Serena said, giving the kid a final affectionate pat. “Sarah. If it is dangerous for me to move, someone completely ignorant will find it most perilous indeed. What will she do if she runs across a clan of hostile vampires when she is barely a few days old.”

Wayne grimaced. He had read books on vampires, as had most everyone–they were a very popular creature for some odd reason. None of the books he had read were guides on how to survive as a vampire, just information. He doubted any guide-type books would exist in a world where the Elysium Order was so well-regarded.

“Incidentally,” Serena said in a slightly angry tone, nodding towards a masked Sarah slowly making her way back to them, “your girlfriend–”

“Sister.”

“That’s wonderful news!” The anger vanished from her voice as if it had never been. “Your sister is an August. One of the ones who just woke up as a vampire, based on me never having seen her before. I don’t know if or how she is different from regular vampires, but it is something to keep an eye on.”

“Noted,” Wayne said as he watched his sister.

Sarah no longer clutched at her stomach. Her arm wasn’t quite back to normal, but it was visibly on its way. Vampires’ regeneration was something special. Despite her elbow being far more damaged than Wayne’s arm, he was willing to bet that hers would be back to normal first.

“You alright?” Wayne asked.

“Fine. I just…” Sarah shook her head. “Let’s just leave. What’s the plan.”

Wayne shifted his weight to one side.

“Wayne. What is the plan?”

He shifted again.

“Please tell me you didn’t charge into the city with no idea on how to get out.”

“I figured we could wing it. That normally works out for me.”

Sarah tried to rub her forehead only to hit the visor of her mask. “How have you not been caught already?”

“I’ll have you know that I’m very skilled at what I do. My forging skills got me in with no problem.”

“Wayne,” Serena said, aghast, “you’re a criminal?”

Keeping his attention on his sister, Wayne ignored the finger running down his chest. “Three ways,” Wayne said, “find some helicopter. Surely even a town this tiny has a hospital or news station with some flight capabilities.

“Second, we could try going out the way I came in. That relies on the checkpoint not having found out that my papers were forged. Additionally, finding a way to contact them and let them know that it is me without getting my head shot off might be a good idea.

“Lastly,” Wayne frowned at Sarah, “you tunnel us out.”

“Those are all terrible,” Sarah said with a huff. “Especially the last one.”

“Yeah, yeah. I had a fourth plan. Basically amounted to hailing the nuns and hitching a ride with them. A good number of them are trained to teleport.” He glanced between Sarah and Serena. “Probably not useful so much anymore.”

“Quite,” Serena said in a clipped tone, lacking all her previous banter.

“Do you even know how to pilot a helicopter?”

Wayne shrugged. “Can’t be that hard. There’s a stick right? Push it forward and the thing goes forward, back and it goes back.”

He’d seen a few movies involving helicopters. They didn’t look too impressive. Though they did have an unnerving tendency to explode. That shouldn’t be a problem here; during his scoping out of the military, he didn’t notice anything that looked capable of taking out air targets. With enough altitude, all the ground forces should be easily avoided.

“Right,” Sarah said. Her opinion of that plan was plain in every word. “That plan is off the table.”

“Oh? Through the military blockade it is. I hope they’re friendly.”

“Don’t worry Wayne,” Serena said once again in her husky voice, “I can handle anything mere humans can come up with.” After a playful wink, her tone turned serious. “But we should wait until nightfall. Unless the smoke extends well beyond city limits, your sister and I will have trouble in the sun.”

Wayne nodded. “I could use a nap.”

“Me too,” Sarah said with a long yawn.

Did vampires even need to yawn? A leftover trait of humanity or some idiosyncrasy with how she just woke up as one?

A moot point at the moment.

Zoe tugged on Serena’s shirt. Without even a word of communication between the two, Serena hefted Zoe up on her back. Once settled, Zoe rested her head on Serena’s shoulder.

Possibly mental tricks of the Blacksky vampire reading the younger kid’s mind. He suspected manipulation for a moment before remembering the vehemence with which she spoke of the ‘mindless’ thralls.

In retrospect, Wayne had probably left Zoe and Serena to their own devices far too much if he wanted to prevent any sort of attachment forming from the former to the latter. A kid wouldn’t understand the dangers of a vampire. Her mother might have been a mage, but that didn’t mean that she had any lectures on the creatures.

As Serena relinked her and Wayne’s arms, he realized that he might be suffering from a similar problem. He had killed that other vampire without hesitation or remorse, yet Serena hung off of his arm without retaliation. All because he had bought into her earlier sob-story about becoming a vampire. A story she had freely admitted was untrue.

If he didn’t need her for Sarah’s sake, would she still be here?

“I’ll keep on watch for any nuns, I suppose,” Serena said.

“I don’t know how you can stand to be awake,” Sarah said with droopy eyes. Whatever adrenaline had been keeping her alert was rapidly vanishing. “No torpor for you?”

“Being the pinnacle of vampires that I am, I can easily ignore the effects for a day or two. Maybe when you’re older.”

“Alright,” Wayne said. “Let’s find a place to hold up for a few hours.”

Wayne clicked the CB radio off.

“Worthless,” he mumbled as he hopped out of the truck he had been sitting inside of for the last hour.

“No luck?” Sarah asked, yawning despite sunset being within the hour.

Shaking his head, Wayne said, “I didn’t expect much. It’s an unmodified civilian-band radio. Mostly certain that it is illegal to modify it to drop to military frequencies.”

“And you don’t know how to modify it yourself?”

“Can’t say that I’ve ever studied radios. Wouldn’t know where to start.”

A sharp clap in the back of the truck had Wayne turning around.

“We’re going for the break out forcefully plan then, right?”

“Unless Sarah wants to tunnel,” Wayne said, turning to his sister with an eyebrow raised.

“Not unless you want to be buried. While alive. Permanently.”

“No. Not so much.”

Earth magic had never come easy for Sarah, despite it being her primary element. After graduating, she hadn’t even passed her third class exam. Wayne was still sure that she could tunnel them out. He could even help with his own meager skills.

Pushing her to do it wouldn’t help. Wayne knew his sister. She would get either angry or nervous. Both could easily lead to a cave-in.

“We need to find a weak point in their barricade. The roads all have heavy-duty checkpoints. Snipers, several soldiers, flamethrowers.”

“The river? We shouldn’t have a problem finding a boat at one of the houses along the Grand.”

“Not sure. I didn’t thoroughly scope out where their fence met the river. I assume they’re watching it.”

“Better plan than charging through with a car,” Sarah said with a self-affirming nod. “We can ditch the boat shortly after and find a car. Probably switch cars a number of times to hide from any followers.”

Experience had taught him that getaways were rarely so clean. He’d never tried fleeing from the actual mundane military before, but it probably wouldn’t be so simple. It was a better plan than nothing, though, and he had been winging things for long enough that he was sure it wouldn’t be that hard.

Using a bit of heat manipulation, he could probably hide them completely from any night vision equipment they may have. Then it was just a matter of losing them long enough to hunker down at a hotel. Preferably in Detroit. Being a big city–bigger, anyway–it would be easy to get lost inside.

“Alright,” Wayne said. “Jump in the truck.” The river wasn’t far, but they needed to be indoors by sunrise. Even though the sun hadn’t even set yet, every second counted.

Serena jumped to her feet. “Oh, I call–”

“The back of the truck,” Sarah said.

Serena’s glare was muted by her mask, but there was definite hostility behind it.

Wayne stepped between the two before a fight could break out. Looking up at Serena, he tried to deflect her attention. “Is Zoe still asleep?”

“Out like a light,” Serena said, her eyes wrinkling in a genuine smile.

Great, Wayne thought even as he returned her smile from behind his own mask. I’ve got a bipolar vampire on my hands who thinks she’s my girlfriend. Or thinks I’m her servant.

“If you could keep her from sliding around,” Wayne said, “I would appreciate it.”

“Alright,” came the instant response. “I can do that.”

Shaking his head, Wayne turned to Sarah. He gave a sharp nod towards the truck’s cab before climbing back into the driver’s seat.

Sarah circled around to the passenger side and got in without a word. She remained silent until they had been driving for a few blocks.

“So,” she said, tentative hesitation plain in her voice, “the girl…”

“The kid or the granny?”

A heavy thump cracked the rear window. Looking through the mirror, Wayne saw a pair of eyes glaring at him.

“Guess she can hear,” he mumbled to himself.

“Zoe,” Sarah said. “Serena told me how you saved her, and that’s great, but what do you plan to do with her?”

“Find some orphanage and drop her off.”

“That’s it? Simple as that?”

“Simple as that. Why?” He took his eyes off the road for a moment to glance in her direction. “You want to adopt her or something?”

“I’m a vampire.”

“So?” He paused, considering his words. Serena, he didn’t like the idea of her raising Zoe. But his sister… “You’re not going to eat her, are you?”

“I’m a monster.”

“No. You’re my sister and you’re being overdramatic.” Wayne gave a long and drawn out sigh through his mask. “Sarah. It’s cliché but worrying about being a monster is a great sign that you’re not. Your message to me was about caring for the stupid dragons of all things. Not exactly the kind of things a monster would worry about.”

Smiling, Wayne said, “then again, those dragons are evil.”

“Wayne,” she snapped, slapping him lightly on the shoulder.

That was the response he had been hoping for. Why she cared about the overgrown lizards was beyond him, but she did.

“Maybe having a kid to care for will help keep you on the straight and narrow.”

Wayne caught a glare out of the corner of his eyes.

“Rich,” she said, crossing her arms, “coming from you.”

“I wish I was rich. Wouldn’t have to,” he coughed, “borrow so much.”

“So you’re just going to foist her off on me?”

Wayne cricked his neck back and forth. “Why not? She’s middle school, maybe elementary school aged. Only a few years before you can ‘foist her off’ to an academy. Her mother was a mage.”

“So I heard.”

“Either that or an orphanage,” Wayne said with a shrug. He turned down another road, bringing the river into full view. “In the mean time, let’s find a boat.”

“There’s a neighborhood,” she said, pointing vaguely, “they literally dug channels from the river into their backyards.”

“Rich people neighborhood?”

“Oh yeah. Unless they all took the boats, we should have plenty of choices.”

A genuine grin spread across Wayne’s face. “Perfect.”

“Two towers,” Wayne said as he passed his binoculars to his cohort. “A sniper and a spotter on top of each along with mounted flame throwers. Several soldiers patrolling along the shoreline fences.”

“And a big net dangling off the bridge to catch anything that tries to swim past,” Serena said, finishing his explanation. “Which shouldn’t be a problem for your flames. And I’m sure you’re proficient enough to take control of their flames.”

“Their bullets worry me the most. Both Sarah and I should be able to erect thaumaturgical shields without much difficulty, but they won’t stand up to the amount of lead that they can pour in our direction.

“The river is flat and free from obstructions. Not even much smoke down here. They’ll see us coming the moment we move the boat around the bend.”

Serena hummed a sing-song tune. “I’ll handle them.”

“I have no doubt that you can kill them or just slip past them, but the rest of us can’t. They’ll call for reinforcements. Those reinforcements will call for reinforcements. Someone will report our boat. Soon enough we’ll have an army trailing after our boat and they won’t stop if we ditch it.”

“You worry far too much, Wayne. Forgetting my strain? Never fear, the boat will be the last thing on their minds.” Serena tapped him on the nose with her finger. “But you’ll need to be fast. Return to the boat and rev it up. Charge full speed through. Both you and your sister should have your shields at maximum strength just in case.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Now now,” she said, chiding. “Can’t reveal all my secrets, even to you. Go, we’re already wasting moonlight.”

Wayne thought to protest, but shrugged. He scooted back carefully and slowly–he had no intention of being spotted by the spotters just yet–leaving Serena behind some bushes on the riverbank.

The boat they had found wasn’t the best in the neighborhood. It did, however, have its keys in an easily accessible lockbox next to the boathouse. Zoe was huddled up under a few blankets and a few life vests just behind the driver’s seat.

Sarah, who had been sitting on the edge, stood up as Wayne approached.

“Where’s the vampire?”

“Distracting the army.”

“Distracting or killing?”

“Didn’t ask,” Wayne said, hopping into the boat. “Come on, we don’t have much time.”

The engine of the boat roared to life. They had to siphon some gas out of the truck they had stolen, but it otherwise appeared fine. Probably hadn’t been used much for a few months.

Wayne was just glad that the river hadn’t frozen over.

“Well?” Wayne said. Sarah hadn’t moved to join him in the boat. “The army would have heard that. We don’t have time to debate. Get in and put up the strongest shield you can.”

“I thought you said that she would distract them.”

“Just in case,” he said, repeating Serena’s words.

After shaking her head, Sarah hopped into the passenger seat.

Before she even had a chance to settle in, Wayne gunned the engines.

At the same time, he heard the crystal clear crack of a rifle’s report. Machine gun fire followed soon after.

“What’s going on?” Sarah asked even as the telltale haze of a powerful shield popped up in front of their boat.

Wayne gripped his tome, adding to the magical effect. “A distraction,” he said with a light grunt.

Accelerator at full speed, Wayne swung the boat around to face the blockade.

Distraction might be an understatement.

Every gun the military had in this section of town was firing. None of them were firing towards the river. Trees and the buildings of a marina were the targets of choice.

Serena stood silhouetted against the white floodlights of the military. One hand held Wayne’s binoculars up to her eyes while she held the other out extended. One finger pointed out with the thumb up in a facsimile of a gun. As she mimed her finger-gun firing with recoil, a black beam shot out of the binoculars, aimed at one of the sniper towers.

Flame started spouting from the mounted turret, all aimed away from the river.

She repeated the action for the other tower, which also started spewing impotent fire, before turning to face the oncoming boat.

After giving a half-salute half-wave, Serena jumped.

“Shield down,” Wayne shouted.

Just in time for her to land on the bow of their boat.

Wayne immediately reapplied his own shield over their boat.

“Thirty-seconds,” Serena shouted over the engine.

Sarah shouted back. “For what?”

“Until they stop thinking that every vampire in the city is charging their outpost.”

“We’ll be clear by then,” Wayne said. Probably too quiet to be heard over the engine and the gunfire, but he didn’t care.

He was too busy dragging the flamethrower’s flame across the net. It was much easier than conjuring flame from scratch, but still required concentration. Doubly so as he was both driving and maintaining a shield at the same time.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t burning fast enough.

“Hold on!”

The front of their boat hit the net, most of it catching on their shield.

Weakened from the flames, it tore.

Wayne let out a sigh of relief as their boat sped through underneath the bridge. The rope hanging off of their shield quickly burned away with a smidgen of extra effort on Wayne’s part.

He had to slow down for another turn of the river, but that turn carried them well out of sight from the sniper towers.

“We have with us today a very special guest.”

Wayne blinked his eyes open, yawning as the last vestiges of sleep left him.

“He wishes to remain entirely anonymous, but felt it was his duty to report what actually happened during the tragedy at Lansing.”

Wayne rolled his eyes as he glanced over at the hotel television set.

This story again.

Lansing was all anyone had talked about for a solid week. No one knew what happened. It was all baseless speculation. Everything had been blamed as the culprit. From Russian satellite weapons test to aliens of all things.

This time, however, was slightly different. Rather than talking over pictures of the crater, the journalist sat in a chair on one side of the screen. The other side had been covered with opaque glass. Only the barest hints of a shadow could be seen on the side of it.

“So,” the anchor said, “what can you tell about Lansing?”

“Thank you for having me.” His voice had been garbled to the point where it was barely intelligible. Luckily for anyone viewing, whatever news station this was had hired a quick transcriber to add subtitles to the screen. “Everywhere else turned me away as crazy.”

“Of course, Mr. Blank.” She actually said the word ‘blank.’ “We’ll let the you speak and the viewers will decide.”

“My detachment had been rounded up for emergency containment of a biological threat. Initially, that’s what it appeared to be. A strange one, to be sure, but nothing unimaginable.”

“Can you tell us the nature of the biological threat? Effects and transmission vectors?”

“Transmission, we didn’t know. None of us had been issued NBC suits–that’s nuclear, biological, chemical suits–and none of the soldiers ever came down with the ‘illness.'” The shadow moved as the man put quotes around his word. “As for the effects,” he coughed, “some seemed to turn into zombies while others turned super-human.”

“Zombies, Mr. Blank?” Despite the way she phrased her inquiry, there was no mocking in her voice.

“Sounds crazy, but when you hear what I have to say later, it’ll be the sanest thing you heard. There are certain chemical cocktails that can turn a person towards a more brain-dead state while still leaving motor functions, so it isn’t too absurd to believe that someone would have weaponized such a thing.

“For three days and three nights, we fought off the zombies and the people who took a few extra bullets to put down–”

“Did these super-humans ever attempt to communicate?”

“Never allowed them to get that close. Our orders were clear. We couldn’t allow the threat to spread.”

“I see.”

He shook his head, ignoring her slightly accusatory tone. “On the third night, things started to change. If some people who took a few extra bullets to put down counted as super-human, these things counted as absolute monsters. They would charge the fences, dodging bullets. They could take entire magazines and still run forward with speed.”

“You called them monsters, but were they human? Or actual monsters.”

“About half and half. Some had limbs like bears while others looked human. Save for a few bodies for the egg-heads, we burned all the corpses. The ones we didn’t burn still had to be restrained with steel because they didn’t always stay dead.”

“Adding to the zombie motif of this attack.”

Again, the man shook his head. “Nope. Crazier than that. That same night, a man showed up at our post. Started spouting off this nonsense about vampires.”

Rather than speak, the anchor just raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I had that expression as well. Then he started a fire in his hand. A gigantic ball of flame the size of my head. He just held it there, casually. I could feel the heat coming off of it. He extinguished the fireball and a forcefield popped up around him.”

“Experimental technology?”

“Not like anything I’ve heard of. No, he wore a sharp, well-fitting suit. The only thing he carried was a thick book. It was honest-to-God magic.”

“Magic?” Unlike her comment about zombies, the disbelief was clear in her tone now.

“Some others saw it as well, but I don’t expect them to come forward. Scary stuff. He claimed he was special forces needing to extract a VIP stuck within the city, though no one I talked to could verify his identity.”

“You don’t believe he was a special forces?”

“Could be. Could be that no one I talked to had the clearance to know. Or the clearance to tell me. Either way, his papers checked out initially. So we let him in. Our orders were to keep things from escaping, mind you, not entering.”

“Did you allow him out of the city once he secured this VIP?”

“Never saw him again. Don’t know if he made it. Though there was a disturbance the next night in which no less than fifteen trained soldiers insisted that they were under attack by about three hundred of the vampires, only for the vampires to vanish into thin air. No body parts, no blood or gore.”

“That would have been the fourth night,” the anchor said. “That just leaves the fifth night?”

“I don’t have much to say about that. It was just a blindingly white light. Flooded over the outpost to the point where no one could see anything. When it faded, the city was gone. I learned more from the recordings that have been playing on various news stations. Our own cameras were too close and only display a white screen.”

As he said that, one of the clearer clips played. It showed the smoke rising from the city from afar. Clouds overhead literally parted to allow a bright white beam of light engulf the city. The time stamp on the video then skipped to the end, roughly thirty minutes later.

The only thing left was a crater.

Wayne shuddered. Roughly twenty-four hours. That was all the spare time he had had, just missing utter annihilation.

The Elysium Order was scary. Scary enough that he was almost considering dropping his current project.

Almost.

As the television snapped back to the interview, Wayne shut it off. The anchor was just thanking Hicks–for who else could it be–for his time.

Looking around the hotel room, Wayne frowned. Zoe slept on in the adjacent bed, but there was no sign of either of the vampires. The bathroom door was open and the light was off, so they weren’t in there.

Wayne noticed the notepad propped up against the side of the room’s telephone as he got out of bed.

Went out for a bite.

Be back soon.

Took sis with me.

The three lines were punctuated with an imprint of lips. Serena had put on lipstick just to kiss the paper. She had to have. At no other point had Wayne noticed lipstick on her.

Wayne shook the thought out of his mind. It didn’t matter either way. She could have her games. He was beyond content in ignoring them.

What did matter was that they had gone out. The Elysium Order would surely be scouring neighboring cities for any vampires that managed to escape their wrath.

At that moment, Wayne made a decision. They couldn’t stay in Detroit any longer. The moment the girls returned, he would head out, find a large van that could have its windows blacked out, and they would drive. They would drive as long as they needed.

Clear to the other side of the country if they had to.

>>Author’s Note 005<<

<– Back | Index | Next –>

005.004

<– Back | Index | Next –>

“Sarah!”

Wayne hammered his fist against the heavy oak door.

“Sarah! Open the door!”

He rattled the handle to no avail. It was locked.

“Maybe no one is home,” Serena said, arms clasped behind her head as she leaned against the wall.

Zoe clung to the vampire’s shirt, pressing her mask up against a curtained window near the two.

Since rescuing Zoe from the thralls, the younger girl had stuck close to Serena. At first it had been mere holding hands. After about ten minutes of walking, Serena put her enhanced strength to good use by giving Zoe a piggy-back ride.

Wayne had kept a close eye on them the entire time. Despite Zoe’s arms being wrapped around Serena, just beneath her sharp fangs, the vampire never once acted like she was about to throw away his trust.

After eating two whole people, maybe that wasn’t so surprising.

All the while, they had kept up a steady conversation. Almost all of it was initiated by Serena. Any time it drifted towards Zoe’s family, Serena skillfully directed it away. It was something that Wayne was beyond grateful for. He was at home in answering Serena’s questions about vampires and magic, but keeping a kid’s mind occupied and off of her parents was far beyond his capabilities.

That Serena kept her from crying only raised Wayne’s opinion of her.

Wayne had abstained from their conversation unless he had been directly addressed. He had not, however, abstained from listening in. Through overhearing their conversation, Wayne had learned that Zoe was a mere ten years old.

Serena herself was sixteen. Older than Wayne had initially suspected, but not so much that he had been expecting her to keep quite such a level head. That was just another thing he had attributed to her vampiric condition.

A less cynical person might say that no one should ever have to experience the things the girls had, especially not at their ages. Wayne was of the opinion that tragedy struck at some point or another, best it come when you can survive it.

For Serena and Zoe, that might just be now if only because of his presence in the city.

And hopefully for Sarah as well.

If she’d open the damn door.

Wayne took a step back. Gripping his tome under the crook of his arm, Wayne held out one hand towards the door. The wood erupted in bright yellow flames. He directed the flames and heat away from the rest of the house, concentrating it all in on itself, focusing on the door.

A metallic clatter made its way out of the silent flames. Wayne extinguished the fire.

The doorway stood open. A handle and a deadbolt lay on the floor, both emitting a faint glow.

“Watch your feet,” he said as he took a ginger step over the threshold.

Serena actually lifted Zoe up and over as they crossed. “I don’t smell any blood,” she said with a sniff of the air. “But there is definitely a smell here. It is a lot closer to Eric and Bart…”

Frowning, Wayne ignited a decent sized ball of flame in his hand. “Stay here,” he said. “And keep the kid safe. Be ready to run.”

“You don’t want backup?”

“Yeah, keep an eye on the door and make sure that we haven’t attracted any attention.”

Words spent, Wayne moved deeper into the house. It wasn’t a large home. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen and a living room. The latter two were connected and were attached to the entryway. He started with the nearest bedroom.

Bedroom was probably the wrong word to use. Sarah had converted it to an office as soon as she finished school. But, it had once been his bedroom.

Gone were the posters of various new wave bands. His bed had been replaced by a curved desk, looking out of the curtained window. The only thing remaining was his old guitar, propped up in the corner with a thick layer of dust covering it.

Most of the rest of the office had a decent coating of dust as well. A good deal was probably just the particles of smoke in the air finding a place to settle.

Apart from the dust, nothing appeared amiss. The desk hadn’t been turned over. The computer and stationary sitting atop was undisturbed.

Wayne shut the door and moved on.

He wasn’t entirely certain what to expect within the next room. The last time he had been inside his sister’s room was during their parents’ funeral. It could still be her room, but if he still lived at home, he would have moved into the master bedroom if for no other reason than the added size and attached bathroom.

Whatever he was thinking, he wasn’t expecting a full home theater. Two thick leather chairs sat in the center of the room. A projector had been mounted up against one wall with a white screen opposite. Heavy-duty speakers were in each corner while foam padding lined the rest of the walls.

Where did Sarah get the money for this? Wayne thought with a low whistle. Even with the money they received from their parents, Wayne wouldn’t have considered either of them in any sort of well-to-do position.

Shaking his head, Wayne closed the door. He passed through the main living room again, noting that Zoe and Serena were talking softly near the front door. Or front doorway? Either way, nothing looked amiss.

The door to the master bedroom had been locked. Wayne took that as a good sign. It indicated occupancy. And, unlike the front door, a simple coin would be sufficient to unlock it.

Not in the habit of carrying around change, Wayne extinguished his fireball and fished out his car keys instead. The lock gave way with a light click. He pressed in on the door without creating any more noise.

A hand reached out of the darkness, gripping the wrist that held the doorknob.

The moment he felt the lightest brush of something cold against his skin, Wayne pushed the limits of his mental acceleration. Relative time slowed to an almost complete stop.

Wayne’s first instinct was to incinerate everything within the room. The hand had already clasped tight around his wrist; there would be no escape from his assailant through any regular force.

A glimmer of light on the wrist stayed his hand. A small charm bracelet wrapped around the wrist, adorned with various caricatures of dragons. Wayne’s familiarity with the bracelet kept him from attacking, but filled him with a certain measure of despair.

Cutting off the flow of magic through his focus, time resumed its regular speed.

Wayne found himself being yanked into the room. A hand on his back and a leg sweeping upwards flipped him up through the air. His grip on his tome wasn’t tight enough, it went flying as his back landed on a bed.

Even as cold fingers wrapped around his throat, Wayne didn’t struggle. He stared up as two steel-gray eyes looked down at him. The eyes matched his own. The two sharp teeth, however, did not.

“Hello Sarah,” Wayne said. There was no humor in his voice. No good cheer at seeing his sister alive.

Because she wasn’t. While her eyes maintained the same intensity they held the last time Wayne was in her presence, her complexion matched that of Serena. Her cold hand was the first sign of something being wrong. Her teeth only confirmed that suspicion.

Looks like I won’t be needing those spare masks after all.

“Wayne. I would say it is good to see you again.”

“It has been two years.”

“Hell of a time to visit.”

“Could be worse,” Wayne said. “Could be snowing.”

Sarah narrowed her eyes. Shaking her head, she moved back and released her hold on Wayne’s throat. “I take it you didn’t get my message?” she asked as she bent down to pick up the lost tome.

“Oh no. I got it. Loud and clear.”

His thick focus flew back over his shoulder and slammed into the wall.

Wayne winced at hearing papers tear upon it landing. That thing hadn’t been cheap.

“Then why are you here? I explicitly told you not to come. Someone needs to take care–”

“I’ve never cared about the dragons. I care about my sister.”

“Wayne,” Sarah said with a sigh. “Mom and dad loved–”

“I don’t need you lecturing me about them. I grew up with them, same as you. You know that I don’t like your crusade to carry on their ‘legacy.'” Wayne grabbed his tome, smoothed out the pages that needed smoothing, and incinerated the pages that had been torn loose in the throw. “Besides,” he said, “you didn’t get rid of the kin, did you? They can get along without you for a while yet.

“We, on the other hand, do not have the luxury of time. If the government doesn’t nuke the city, the Elysium Order will. Standard operating procedure for lost-town scenarios does include a quick sweep for survivors, but they don’t actually care about people. Those that do get rescued will typically be inducted into their order. I wouldn’t put it past them to skip straight to scorched-earth for Lansing.”

“Since when did you become an expert on Elysium Order tactics?”

Wayne shrugged. “Been researching them lately.”

“Oh?” Sarah narrowed her eyes in his direction. “What priceless artifact do you want to steal this time?”

“You’re the last person I want to hear a lecture from. Don’t think I have forgotten about your hobbies.” Wayne stood from the bed and moved for the door. “We need to find a way out of the city.”

Wayne stilled as he felt a hand rest on his shoulder.

“You’re not going to mention it?” Sarah said, her voice so soft that Wayne had to strain to hear.

For a moment, he made no move. There was so much to do, so much to consider. At the worst, he had expected a deceased sister. Wounded at best. For her to have become a vampire had never entered into his fears.

“How did it happen?”

“Went to bed around eight on New Year’s Eve. Woke up in my bed with pointier teeth at sundown the night before last. Sent out the message a few hours later.”

“Two days?” Wayne turned to look her in the eyes. “And you didn’t willingly–”

“You think I’m stupid? Of course I didn’t.”

Wayne searched her eyes, looking for any hint of deception. He found none. Blinking, Wayne realized something else that was missing. “Your eyes are the same as mine.”

“What?”

“You don’t have the Blacksky eyes.” Wayne took one of her hands in his own, just for confirmation. “And you don’t have claws. What strain are you?”

“I don’t know,” she snapped, slapping his hand away. “It didn’t come with an instruction manual.”

“Have you fed?”

Sarah’s eyes went wide before she turned her gaze to the side.

Understanding, Wayne let the matter drop. He turned back to the door. “Nevermind. It doesn’t matter. You’re still my sister and you didn’t attack me. That’s all that matters. We can discuss your condition more after we’re safe. Or even on the way, for some of it.”

That said, Wayne threw open the door and stepped out.

His frown immediately deepened. “Zoe,” he said to the little girl wringing her hands, “where is Serena?”

The little girl spun to face him, taking a step towards him as she moved. Her step turned into a stumble as she retreated backwards upon seeing Sarah.

Watching his sister out of the corner of his eye, Wayne was pleased to note a hurt expression cross her face. Pleased because it wasn’t hunger or malice.

“She won’t hurt you,” Wayne said as he put on his kindest smile. “This is my sister, Sarah.”

Something–probably my smile–made Zoe take another step back.

“This is a survivor we found,” Wayne said for his sister’s sake.

“‘We?’ You dragged someone else into this?”

“A vampire that wisely decided against trying to kill me. Mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“Well, she started out attacking me…” Wayne shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Where did she go, Zoe?”

“Something smelled good. Serena went to find out what.”

“Something?” Wayne sniffed, but couldn’t smell much of anything behind his mask.

“I smell it too,” Sarah said after taking a few breaths of her own. A dazed look clouded her eyes. “Blood. Fresh and warm. Lots of it too. More than a single person for sure.”

Wayne grit his teeth together. She just ate two people plus some of my blood. How gluttonous is that girl? “Whatever,” he said. “I told her to stay here. We don’t have time to go rescue her from an Elysium Order trap.”

Both of Zoe’s hands clasped around her mask. “It’s a trap?” she said with a gasp.

“That or a big fight going on. Either way, not something we want to get into.”

“But,” Sarah said, taking an unsteady step forwards, “but I need–”

Wayne clamped a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Sister or not, if I have to break your legs to get us out–”

Not having turned on his mental acceleration, Wayne didn’t have time to react. His sister wrenched out of his grip. An elbow found its way into the pit of his stomach.

Collapsing to his knees, Wayne tried to regain control over his breathing.

Zoe screamed as Sarah charged into a full sprint. Luckily for the girl, Sarah, and Wayne’s conscience, Sarah completely ignored Zoe in her rush to the door.

Vampire out of the way, Zoe walked up to Wayne.

“Definitely a trap,” he groaned out. “Both ate recently. I don’t believe that Sarah would go into a frenzy just because of a little blood.”

“You’re going to save Serena, right?”

Wayne rolled his eyes. Using Zoe’s shoulder to steady himself, he pushed himself back to his feet, rubbing his stomach as he went. “If she’s still kicking.”

Putting a hand on Zoe’s head, Wayne considered telling her to stay where she was. With the front door gone, the house wasn’t as safe as could be. He decided to keep her at his side in the end.

“Let’s go see if we can’t find a couple of vampires.”

Finding their wayward vampires turned out to be much simpler than expected. Zoe helpfully noted in which direction both Serena and Sarah had taken off running. From there, it was a simple matter of walking in a straight line.

The music helped as well.

Classical hymns blaring over half the town only reinforced the feeling that this was a trap. The music would attract what the smell of blood did not; thralls, ghouls, and possibly humans.

It certainly gathered a number of thralls and ghouls.

Smoke obscured most of his view, but what he could see spoke wonders. Humans stood around the edges of the park, all looking in, all watching. A ghoul would occasionally slip through and shamble towards the center. They didn’t last long, usually winding up torn apart in seconds.

A wide vat filled to the brim with thick red liquid sat in the center of Washington Park. Lights had been set up all around it alongside speakers and fans. The fans served to push around the soot-filled air more than clear it, but they did clear it enough to offer a slightly better view. Wayne had a feeling that they were to spread the scent around the city more than any sort of environmental control.

And they performed that task admirably.

At least ten vampires swarmed around the vat. Rather than drink from it, they were too busy fighting their competition.

Probably intentional, Wayne mused from his position atop the park’s tallest slide. He didn’t know of any way to poison a vampire, so whipping them up into a frenzy and having them fight each other was a decent way to cull the group to manageable levels. Then again, if anyone could find a way to poison a vampire, it would be the Elysium Order.

The plan would probably be more effective at night. More vampires would be awake and therefore there would be greater chaos around the vat. But daytime was safer for regular humans. Gathering all the vampires, thralls, and what-have-you to specific points gave the Order free rein to do as they please. If Wayne didn’t miss his guess, this would be the time when the nuns would perform their token check for any regular humans.

Which meant that the end of the city was drawing near.

Needless to say, he was beyond pleased that they had actually decided to check for humans. That gave him the time he needed to get everyone out of the city. Unfortunately, everyone currently included at least one of the vampires involved in the brawl near the vat.

Sarah, being a trained earth mage, was wiping the floor with her opponents. Literally, in some cases. She carried no focus but was just as effective at manipulating earth as she had been in life–which was to say: terrible. Still, it was a distinct advantage over the other vampires.

And it did confirm Wayne’s suspicions that vampires were entirely capable of thaumaturgy. Serena ought to be happy about that.

If she survived.

Thanks to her little invisibility trick, Serena was performing quite well. She would blink out of sight before appearing on the back of an attacker.

Wayne didn’t know what effects a vampire drinking vampire blood would cause, but he expected that he would be finding out shortly. So long as she survived.

Thus far, the two had remained on opposite sides of the vat from one another. They weren’t working together. Luck had kept them apart so far.

Testing who was stronger between the mediocre earth vampire-mage and the invisible vampire was not a current desire of his.

Wayne stood, cracking his neck side to side.

He’d just have to get them to stop.

“Nice mask. Yours go crazy too?”

Keeping a firm hand on Zoe’s shoulder, Wayne glanced to his side.

One of the thralls had the gall to walk up to him. A scrawny type with wide-rimmed glasses.

“No.” And that was it. Nothing more needed to be said. Wayne didn’t know how the kid came to be a thrall. Probably another sob story; not a thing Wayne cared to hear about. He already had enough sob stories on his hands between Zoe and Serena.

Zoe pressed close to him, holding on to the hem of his suit jacket. “What are you going to do?”

We,” Wayne said, uncaring as to whether the thrall heard him, “are going to destroy all that blood. It was set out by vampire hunters and I’m not interested in sticking around for their trap.

You are going to stay right by my side.” Wayne wasn’t about to trust the thralls not to kidnap the kid. “If I say jump or duck or run, you are going to jump or duck or run. No complaints. No hesitation. Understand?”

The kid nodded.

Wayne was fairly certain that this was the point where someone else would give her a confidence boosting ruffle of her hair. Wayne wasn’t someone else. He was Wayne Lurcher. Affectionate displays were far beyond him.

Besides, she had a mask of her own over her head.

“A trap?” The thrall moved closer. “Do you need help? I’m sure some of the others–”

Wayne silenced him by igniting a fireball. “And you can leave. You’ll wind up as nothing more than mince-meat if you come with me.” Wayne wasn’t about to trust the thrall anyway. It was too beholden to his vampire. If, even in the midst of their frenzy, his vampire shouted out some order or another, Wayne held no doubt that the thrall would die to carry the order through.

The thrall backed away, not taking his eyes off the fireball in Wayne’s hand.

After ensuring that the kid was keeping up with his movements, Wayne started wading out into the center of the park. For several steps, none of the vampires so much as glanced in his direction.

Twenty-five feet from the vat, something changed. Two vampires broke off their fight with each other and charged at him.

Slowing his perception of time to a crawl, Wayne had all the time in the world to step to one side, keeping Zoe with him. He nudged the closer of the two ever so slightly as the vampire ran to his side.

Amazing how a slight redirection of momentum can send a vampire crashing into another one.

With both vampires on the ground, shoving and struggling to disentangle their limbs from one another, Wayne was free to burn another prepared page.

A column of fire erupted around the two like a miniature volcano. It lasted only a few seconds, but by the time Wayne extinguished the flames, nothing but ashes remained. Ashes that the fans kicked up into more dust to fill the air.

Wayne took an instant to appreciate his mask. Breathing in vampire remains couldn’t be good for his health.

He felt a slight tremor at his side. Zoe had started shaking. Reaching a fireball-less hand down to her shoulder, Wayne gave her a reassuring squeeze.

“Don’t worry. Vampires of this caliber are not a threat.”

Unfortunately, more vampires were taking note of his presence. Three-way fights were harder to break away from, to Wayne’s great relief. Day old vampires might not be troublesome, but he wasn’t immune to being overwhelmed.

Wayne started forward again, increasing his speed even with Zoe hanging off of his clothes.

It would have been simple to launch a fireball from afar. Multiple fireballs, even. That ran the risk of destroying the vat and spilling the blood. Not something Wayne wanted. It would be much harder to destroy spread around the park.

Burning two pages, Wayne created walls of flames extending out and around the vat. It was a long shot, but he was hoping that the vampires would maintain some semblance of sanity and stay away from the fire.

Pushing Zoe into the fastest run her tiny legs could manage, they reached the vat.

A vampire burst through the firewall to his side. So much for that idea, Wayne thought with a groan. At least the vampire wasn’t Sarah.

It was, however, on fire. Wayne didn’t need to spend much effort in fanning the flames. Soon enough, the woman was a pile of ash.

Not wasting any more time, Wayne tossed a fireball up onto the center of the vat. As it flew, he burned another page.

Flames exploded outwards, doubling, growing, and heating. By the time the ball reached the top of the vat, he had a miniature sun bearing down on the liquid.

Foul and vile scents penetrated his mask as the blood vaporized under the heat. Zoe audibly gagged, though managed to hold down her lunch.

Then again, who knew when the kid last ate. She might not have anything to throw up.

“Come on,” Wayne said, breathing solely through his mouth, “we should back away until they calm–”

Wayne stumbled forward. His foot got caught in the ground as the earth lost solidity. He sunk into the ground up to his ankles before the dirt hardened.

A figure emerged from the flames. Trails of hot magic licked her clothes as she moved through.

Wayne immediately extinguished the fire. Vampires regenerated from just about anything, but fire damage took the longest by far.

While Sarah would probably forgive him even if the scars lasted a century, it wasn’t a chance he was willing to take.

Sarah opened her mouth in a scream. Her twin fangs protruded from her teeth, dripping with ichor. With blood-addled eyes, Sarah charged.

Unable to move his feet, Wayne was forced to hold his ground. He swung his heavy tome, making contact with her outstretched arm. Something snapped as her elbow bent the wrong way.

Not letting his sympathy get the better of him, Wayne followed through with an elbow-strike to her ribcage.

Again, something snapped.

Pain shot up Wayne’s arm. He accelerated his mental process to the max to take a good ten minutes worth of time just to scream internally.

His arm was broken. No doubt about that.

The only consolation was that he was fairly certain something snapped inside her as well. It wasn’t so much her durability that snapped his arm, it was her sheer speed that broke both their bones.

Working through the pain, Wayne brought his raised tome down on Sarah’s head. She crashed into the ground, face smearing into the dirt.

Wayne was a fire mage. Through and through. He had never cared about dalliances of air magic or the complexities of earth magic, and water magic was sealed away from him due to his affinity for fire. That didn’t mean he hadn’t learned anything from school or his sister.

Using the little earth magic he knew, Wayne freed himself and Zoe–who was in the midst of screaming–from the ground.

Sarah was in the middle of using her arms to push herself up. One arm, mostly. The other didn’t look like it would support much weight anytime soon.

Wayne directed a portion of magic over to his wayward sister. Her arm sank into the ground up to her shoulder.

His sister, though a terrible mage in general, still surpassed him in earth magics. She immediately started to counteract his manipulation of the ground under her arm. In her blood-addled state, she wasn’t that great at it.

“Sarah,” Wayne said, his voice as deep and as authoritative as he could make it. “I am your brother. Wayne. Calm yourself. Do you hear me? You must stop fighting me.”

He could see movement in his peripheral vision. Nothing had burst through his walls of flame since his sister, so their blood-lust may be subsiding. Or they were still too busy fighting each other.

“Sarah,” he said again. “Please.”

His sister’s struggling ceased. She lay flat against the ground with her face in the grass.

Wayne took a step closer. “Sarah?”

“I’m sorry.”

Blinking, Wayne shook his head. “I don’t give a damn about your sorrys.” He released his hold on her arm. “Get up and move. We don’t have time to muck about.”

Only when she finally started to move did Wayne start to feel the second coming of his arm’s pain. He knelt down, gritting his teeth, and tossed his backpack on the ground.

“Could you do me a favor,” he said to Zoe. “Find me a vial of milk-white liquid.”

At the younger girl’s staunch nod, Wayne moved up to his sister.

Before he could say a word, she spoke first. “Are you hurt?”

“Broken bone. Not a bad break at that. I have potions.”

“Of course you do.”

“You’re injured worse.” Wayne said, gesturing at her backwards-facing elbow. “And I’m hesitant to try potions on you.”

“Vampires heal right?”

A voice at his elbow sent Wayne jumping to one side.

“They do,” Serena said as she faded into sight. “There are plenty of thralls that just lost their master if you want a little boost to your regeneration.”

Sarah clutched at her side as she stood. A slightly disgusted look crossed her face. “I think I’ll pass.”

Wayne started to smile at her resolve. That smile disappeared as he watched her shamble forwards a step. “Reconsider,” he said to Sarah. “We need to be in top shape to escape.”

“Besides,” Serena said, “I’m not planning on taking on any thralls. Worthless beings that can’t think beyond their next hit. And if you’re not planning on taking any under your wing, then they aren’t coming with us. I don’t rate their chance of survival very high.”

Wayne narrowed his eyes at Serena, but slowly nodded his head in agreement.

Zoe chose that moment to run up to him, holding a vial in one hand and a backpack in the other.

Breaking the seal on his mask, Wayne downed the potion in a single gulp. The acidic taste left over in his mouth caused an involuntary shudder to wrack his body. Pain in his arm flared up almost immediately as the bone reset itself and started mending.

It would still be a few hours before he could use his arm. A few more before he should use his arm. But it paid to get the process started as soon as possible.

“Thanks kid,” he said, giving Zoe an awkward pat on her head.

While she had his bag open, Wayne reached in and pulled out his last two masks. “I don’t know if these will help against any more traps, but they won’t hurt anything. Put them on,” he said, holding them out to the two vampires.

Making some noise that Wayne assumed most teenagers made when excited, Serena accepted immediately. She slipped it on and proceeded to breathe as loudly as she could.

Sarah took the mask, but only held onto it. At his questioning look, she bared her teeth without smiling.

“Right,” Wayne said, understanding. “You hold off for a few minutes.”

With that, Wayne extinguished the flames around them.

Five vampires–not counting Serena and Sarah–stood around with an accompaniment of thralls. All looked like they had been waiting for him.

None looked to be in a fighting mood. Several were wobbling on their feet with droopy eyes–Sarah included. Many were injured to some degree.

Wayne kept his pages charged and ready as he looked over the crowd just in case.

When they failed to part and allow his passage, Wayne cleared his throat. “Vampires. This,” he thumbed over his shoulder at the vat–or where the vat had been before his sun atomized it, “was a trap set by those who hunt your kind. If you stay within the city, you will die. Again. Permanently.”

One stepped forward. “How are we supposed–”

“Don’t know. Don’t care. Move at once or I will end you now.”

“Come now,” an older vampire said. She drew a sharp fingernail across her wrist. Blood dripped out, landing on the ground.

The thrall standing behind her leapt forward, tongue out. He buried his face in the grass and licked. Several of the other bystander thralls looked ready to join in.

Though he knew it was hidden by his mask, Wayne drew back his lips in disgust.

“Surely you want to serve a real master,” the vampire said, having continued to speak even as her thrall made a fool of himself. “I can provide so much more than that flat–”

Wayne had heard enough. Burning a page, Wayne replaced the vampire and her thrall with fire.

The screams filling the air caused Wayne to wince. The vampire had turned to dust in an instant, but her thrall was still mostly human. There would be a charred carcass left over.

He hadn’t even considered Zoe before igniting the two. Looking down, he was pleased to find Serena pressing her hands over Zoe’s ears while pressing the kid’s face into her chest.

Wayne gave a curt nod of thanks to the vampire.

He could tell that she was smiling even behind her mask.

“Anyone else have something to say?” Wayne called out as the thrall’s scream died off.

The remaining vampires cleared away in a flash, leaving behind a scattered group of masterless thralls looking somewhat dazed.

“Oh, me!”

Whipping his head back to his side. Serena–Zoe still pressed against her–moved right up against Wayne. She looped one arm around his, eliciting a small grunt of pain.

“I don’t want you to be my thrall,” she said with a slight husk in her voice, “but maybe something else?”

“Too young for me, kid.” Wayne said. He almost smiled at the pout visible behind her mask.

“Buut,” she said, drawing out the word, “I’m going to be sixteen forever. I’ll always be too young.”

This time, he actually did smile. Glancing at Sarah to hide it, Wayne gave his sister a slight nod of his head followed by a nod towards the thralls.

She sighed, but took off running without complaint.

Which suited him just fine. He wasn’t too interested in saying anything aloud with Zoe around. Though she probably heard anyway, he considered, she had only been a few steps away when Serena had initially mentioned it.

Shaking his head, Wayne turned back to the kids. Mirth over the previous conversation gone, he narrowed his eyes at the vampire.

“Sarah will return in a minute or two. We will leave as soon as she does. But first,” he slowed his perception of time and ignited a small fireball, “I want to know exactly who I am traveling with.”

To his surprise, she didn’t balk away or grow hostile. Serena leaned into him more than before, smile visible beneath her mask.

“You saved me from the Elysium Order’s trap so I’ll give you a little hint. I’m a few years older than I look.”

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