I stepped up to the front door and pushed in, not bothering to close it. I just wanted to see him and hold him. It was crazy how much I needed his comfort. It was even crazier to imagine what I’d do without it.

  “Gareth,” I called as I walked through the living room to the kitchen.

  The elf stood at the kitchen sink with his back towards me.

  “Gareth? Didn’t you hear me?” I stared at his fine behind. I was going to smack it.

  “Gran is expecting that wine you told her about—”

  Gareth turned around, his motions slow and stiff like his joints pained him with that simple turn.

  A heart-wrenching wail pierced the air. I fell to my knees, unable to get enough air into my lungs as my world crumbled around me, shifting with a nauseating spin.

  I looked up to my elf, my beautiful, strong, wizard elf.

  And his yellow eyes stared back at me.

  CHAPTER 22

  “Rowyn? You need to snap out of it. Don’t make me whip your ass, woman. You know I’m good for it.”

  I knew it was Tyrius’s voice. I recognized it, but he sounded so far away, like he stood on the edge of the world, on a cliff, and was shouting back to me. Weird. Why was he so far away? Why was I so far away? Was I dreaming? Was this a dream? It felt like a dream.

  The scent of demon energies sifted through the upper levels of my thoughts, skimming through my hazy dream state. I was warm and comfortable, though my mattress was hard, almost like wood. Strange. But I didn’t want to wake up. I didn’t know why, but this felt better. Stay asleep. Stay here.

  “She’s lost it,” I heard Tyrius say. “She’s cracked. She’s all packed up and ready for the loony bin.”

  “Rowyn? It’s Layla. Can you hear me?” This time Layla was speaking to me, her voice faint, nearly a whisper. Why was everyone so far away?

  Hi, little sister. I can hear you. What’s up?

  “You need to come back to us,” continued Layla, her beautiful voice drifting around me like the sound of rippling leaves in a wind.

  “Look at her,” came Tyrius’s voice again. “She’s in shock. She needs a doctor. She needs Pam. We need to call Pam. Like, right friggin’ now.”

  Pam? I know that name. Something cool touched my cheek and then my forehead.

  “She’s really warm. She might have a fever,” said Layla, her voice higher than usual. “What did you say happened with the necromancer?”

  “She fought him and then el padre saved her by killing him,” answered the cat. “She didn’t go into specifics, which, come to think about it… sounds a lot like she was hiding something. Which could only mean… it was really bad.”

  You clever cat. So clever.

  “Could he have made her sick like this?” I heard Layla ask. “Did he put a spell on her, you think?”

  “I don’t know,” said the baal demon. “She seemed better at Gran’s. Her eyes were still bad, but she ate some pizza. No. This happened after she saw Gareth.”

  Gareth… where is Gareth?

  “She looks really bad, Tyrius,” came Layla’s voice again, though softer this time. “I’m scared.”

  “Me too. But sitting here won’t help her. We have to do something. Before it gets worse.”

  Someone clapped their hands together. “Wake up, Rowyn.” Layla’s voice hit my ears again. “We need you. I need you. Gareth needs you.”

  Gareth? Why did he need me? Where is he? I can’t hear him.

  The sound of feet slapping on wood neared me. “We’ll take her to Pam’s. I’ll carry her into the car,” said a voice.

  Is that Danto? Danto is here? Hi, Danto! Wait a minute… where is here? This is a dream. Isn’t it?

  “Or… we can opt for the faster option,” said Tyrius.

  “Which is what?” questioned Layla’s voice, tight and small.

  “When in doubt, go for pain.”

  Something as sharp as needles pierced my skin, and pain exploded from my arm. I screamed and yanked my arm from the attacker. My mind moved from sleep to awareness. I blinked, my gaze a bit unfocused, into the face of a Siamese cat staring down at me. “Tyrius?” I pulled my arm into my line of sight. Four tiny holes dripped with blood. “You bit me. Why did you bite me?”

  The cat gave me a smug smile. “You’re welcome. Now get up.”

  “What?” Only then did I realize I was lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. I pulled myself to a sitting position. I was in my kitchen.

  Gaze still unfocused, I pressed my palms on the floor for balance just as I remembered doing before the panic took me.

  “How long was I out?”

  “About an hour.” Layla sat next to me and grabbed my hand. Her warm fingers felt nice against my cold skin. “I came as soon as Tyrius called.”

  “Tyrius called you?” I spun on my knees. Danto stood in the living room, looking like a male model in one of those cologne commercials. His open black shirt revealed a tanned, muscled chest. His handsome face was twisted in grief, and his dark eyes gleamed with sorrow.

  Behind him was a man tied to a chair. The tips of his pointed ears poked from a mass of tousled, dark, wavy hair. A slip of black cloth was wrapped around his head to cover his eyes.

  Gareth.

  I felt the walls of the kitchen closing in on me, and then everything started to spin again as the events of what had happened earlier came rushing in… his large, yellow eyes staring at me.

  My chest contracted.

  Gareth.

  He sat in one of the kitchen table chairs. His hands and feet were bound with rope, and a few extra loops of rope circled his body. He was moving his head from side to side like he was trying to listen.

  Lips trembling, I stood on shaky legs. My grandmother’s pizza rolled up in my throat, but I forced it down before I starting spewing chunks. I remembered screaming. My eyes closed, and I felt the emotions all over again.

  My heart seemed to die right there and then all over again. Please, no, I thought, tears blinding me as I stared at him.

  I felt a brush on my leg and I looked down to see Tyrius rub up against me. My furry buddy was trying to comfort me.

  “I’m so sorry, Rowyn,” said Layla, her voice filled with grief. I wouldn’t look at her. If I looked at her, I would lose it again.

  My eyes burned, but I would not let the tears fall. This wasn’t the time to cry.

  Danto walked over to me. “I thought it was best to cover his eyes. In case one of the necromancers showed up.”

  “It won’t shut the necromancers out completely, but it’ll help,” commented the cat as he bounded over to the elf. “At least, for now. Until we figure out what… what to do.”

  I nodded, not able to bring myself to speak. This was my fault. I’d brought this on. Gareth was without a soul because of me.

  “Rowyn?” Layla rubbed my arm. “Please say something.”

  My throat burned. Guilt. Regret. Anger. Sorrow. They were all competing, and I didn’t have a winner.

  I stood there in silence, staring at the man I loved, at the man who loved me back with all his being.

  I’d ripped out his soul. The necromancer had actually done it, but it might as well have been me.

  Danto rubbed his jaw. “Should we contact his family?”

  I found my voice. “What do you mean?”

  The vampire crossed his arms over his chest, staring at the floor. “Well. Shouldn’t we tell them what happened?” His perfect face pinched in distress. “They’re his family. They should know that he’s… lost.”

  Anger won the emotional battle. “Why are you talking like he’s dead,” I raged. “He’s not dead.” I was practically shouting. I didn’t feel any guilt anymore. I was only angry. How could they not see that the elf was still alive, still breathing, still…

  Swallowing, I took a hesitant step forward toward Gareth. “I have to fix this,” I whispered.

  “This isn’t your fault, Rowyn.” Tyrius appeared at my side. “You can’t blame yourself.”

  I gave a bitter laugh. “Oh, yes, I can. I did this. If I had given Rath back his stupid knife, Gareth would still be…” What? Complete? Whole? Mine again? “He would still be Gareth. Not this.”

  “You don’t know that.” Tyrius shook his head, his ears low on his head. “You don’t know that the necromancers wouldn’t have done it anyway. They’re toying with us. With you.”

  My eyes rolled over Gareth’s face. His lips moved, not with words, but with nothing, like the mumblings of a mad person.

  “Why?” My voice shook, and I hated it. “Why are they doing this? What do they want?”

  “I think I can help you with that,” said a familiar voice.

  My heart leaped to my throat and I whirled around.

  Shane stood in the kitchen, and next to him was Lance.

  CHAPTER 23

  I stared at the angel Shane. His skin seemed darker in the dim light of the kitchen, making it almost the color of dark chocolate. He wore casual clothes, all black, with a military-style jacket. “Help me with what exactly?” My voice came out hoarser than I’d wanted. My Godzilla persona was getting the best of me.

  Shane took a moment, seemingly giving me a few seconds to collect myself. His eyes moved behind me. I saw the shock in the angel’s eyes when he caught sight of Gareth and heard the tiny whimper from Lance’s throat that nearly sent me to my knees again.

  Shane turned to me again and said, “When did this happen?”

  I opened my mouth to tell him, but my jaw just hung there, the words evaporating in my throat. I couldn’t help the emotions that came cascading down on me again. It was like I was reliving the shock of seeing Gareth without a soul, all over again… and again… and again…

  “About an hour and a half ago,” said Layla, and I let out a little breath of relief.

  Danto took a firmer stance, his hands clasped before him. “We had to restrain him so he wouldn’t hurt anyone… or himself.”

  Tyrius edged forward and sat next to Gareth’s leg, his ears low and his eyes narrowed dangerously, looking like a guard dog, or rather, guard cat. “It was the necromancer called Rat. He wanted Rowyn to suffer.”

  “It worked.” I rubbed my face, trying to get my muscles to work again. I moved my hand to my waist and pulled out the necromancer’s knife. “Because of this.” I showed the angels the blade. “He called it the—”

  “Ferro ex mortuis,” answered Shane. “It’s a sacrificial blade the necromancers use during their death ritual. They call it The Passage. The transition of life into death.”

  I frowned. It had to be more than that. Or maybe it wasn’t, and Rath was just a giant bastard who didn’t want to share his toys with others.

  Tyrius made a sound in his throat. “Well, at least now we know what that means.” He bobbed his head to the angels. “What other heavenly news you got for us? Are you receiving the divine messages right now?”

  I looked at Tyrius. I couldn’t be mad at him for patronizing the angels. It was the only normal in my life right now. I needed all the normal I could get.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore.” I slipped the blade back on my waist, wondering why I even bothered to keep it. “He did this to Gareth because I wouldn’t give it back. There’s nothing more to it.”

  “Rowyn,” growled Tyrius. “Don’t do this. You know it’s not the only reason.”

  “It is, actually.” My temper flared, and I caught a glimpse of Layla staring at the floor. Her miserable expression was accompanied by tears in her eyes.

  Danto watched Layla, his toes flinching like he was contemplating taking her into his arms to comfort her. I knew he wanted to do it, but he was holding back because of me.

  My stomach knotted. I’d give anything to feel Gareth’s strong arms wrapped around me. My own eyes burned. Damn it. I would not cry. I’d already had one breakdown today. I would not suffer another. Gareth needed me. I was going to fix him.

  Blinking fast, I moved my gaze between the angels. “What did you find out?”

  Shane came forward. “We know why the necromancers are taking the souls.”

  “And where they’re stashing them,” said Lance. His golden eyes flicked to Tyrius, daring him to say something snarky.

  Tyrius raised his brows after a moment. “Is this free intel, or are you waiting for us to pay you or something? Go on. Spit out the saintly dribble.”

  “Remember when I told you that souls are filled with power?” Shane was speaking fast.

  “Yes,” I answered. “Everyone knows that.”

  “Right. It’s one of the reasons they’re so attractive to demons.”

  “Dude,” said Tyrius. “I’m getting mixed signals here.”

  Shane exhaled slowly, a mortal gesture. “To perform their Death magic, the necromancers need a great amount of power—a huge amount. They need the sum of enough power to control and maintain the bodies of the living. Only souls can lend that kind of energy.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “So far so good. I’m waiting for the part where I’m supposed to be intrigued.” Okay, that was harsh, but I was running on my Godzilla bitch fuel, and I couldn’t turn it off. Not even for angels.

  “When the body dies,” continued Shane, “the souls return to Horizon.”

  “When they’re not eaten by demons,” interrupted the cat.

  “But the necromancers found a way around that,” continued Shane.

  My interest piqued. “Go on.”

  “With their Death magic,” said the angel, “they can store the souls in a place where the souls can’t escape. A place where even the demons can’t reach. A place where the necromancers can use the power of all the souls they’ve stolen.”

  “Hang on to your butts,” said Tyrius. “Here it comes.”

  I swallowed. “What place?”

  “A new realm,” said Lance, and Tyrius cursed.

  The baal spit on the floor. “You need to stop smoking that heavenly crack, dog-breath. There’s no such thing as a new realm. There’s here, there’s your joint, and there’s the Netherworld. That’s it.”

  The white dog shook his head. “Not anymore.”

  “That’s a truckload of cosmic crap.” Tyrius’s blue eyes met mine. “Do you believe these celestial freaks? Tell them, Rowyn. Tell them this is not cool.”

  Pulse rising, I flicked my gaze between the angels. “If you’re lying to me…” I didn’t want to complete that sentence. I had a feeling I would regret it.

  Danto and Layla, both feeling my mood, came to stand next to me.

  Shane didn’t even react to my outburst. “I’m not lying to you, Rowyn. There is a new realm. We’ve only just discovered it.”

  My lips parted. “A new realm? You’re serious?”

  “Very,” said Lance. “We were able to retrieve some echoes of memory through the human body that had been connected to the necromancer. It’s how we knew the necromancers were storing the souls in that place. A place they call Death.”

  Of course it was called Death. Because Sunshine was already taken.

  Tyrius nudged my leg. “I think the halos are running out of air up there.”

  I shook my head. Tyrius didn’t say they were lying, more like they were nuts, and believed in their nuttery. Did that make it true? “What do you mean, a new realm? How’s that even possible? Necromancers are humans, unless you know something I don’t. And humans can’t create realms,” I said, my horror mixing with confusion.

  Lance looked up at Shane. “Do you want to tell her, or do you want me to tell her?”

  I raised a brow. “Tell me what?”

  “Go ahead,” said Shane.

  “Gods and Goddesses can create realms and realities,” began the dog. “Just like this realm, Earth, the realm of the living, was created.”

  Tyrius hissed. “We all know the story, mutt. Get with the program.”

  “There’s another entity. You can call it a god or you can call it by its true name.” Lance blinked a few times. “This entity is called Derrigor.”

  Tyrius whistled. “This keeps getting better and better.”

  “Hush, Tyrius.” I glanced at the angels. “Let me guess. This entity, Derrigor, the necromancers made some kind of deal with him?” I went with male since the name sounded male.

  “That’s what the Legion believes,” said Shane. “Derrigor has the power to create realms. The necromancers must have discovered this and raised him somehow, or simply woken him.”

  It all made a lot of sense.

  “They hid this new realm well,” said Shane.

  “But not well enough,” commented Lance. “They couldn’t hide all those souls forever. Their energy started to slip through the cracks of this place, sort of like how Rifts open. It’s how we found it.”

  A thought came to me. “How can the necromancers steal the souls from these people and keep them alive while they manipulate them?”

  “Think of this place as a giant powerplant,” explained Shane. “And the stored power, the souls, have a direct link to their bodies. Like an electrical box with wires connecting to each person, feeding them with energy.”

  Lance’s golden eyes gleamed as he met mine. “We think it’s the reason why the bodies are still alive. That power feeds into the mortal bodies. Sustaining them.”

  “But for how long?” I looked over to Gareth, who hadn’t moved since the angels arrived. “How long can the souls live in that place?”

  Shane shrugged. “It’s hard to tell. Years maybe. Until the soul is drained completely.”

  A burst of angst lit through me. “Those people don’t have years. They’ve got less than a day.”

  Lance and Shane shared a look. “You mean the people in Times Square?” asked Lance.

  “They’re sending in the human troops,” said Tyrius. “They think it’s a virus. They’re going to kill all those people for fear of it spreading.”

  Danto swore under his breath and ran a hand into his luscious black hair. I knew it as his signature gesture when he was nervous or edgy. Layla was next to him in a second, her fingers interlacing with his.

  I felt despair rush in. For all those people’s souls, for Gareth’s. My heart seemed to cease. I felt nothing but pain. It was all I was. All I had left…

 

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