Devil's Playground (13 page)

I
tore out of the barn, hands empty of weapons, power almost drained, with a single-minded purpose—to kill that murdering bitch with my bare hands. But not before I found out where the women were being held. I picked up the pace, reaching the fight in time to watch my grandmother rear back an arm and crack Camille in the face. She was in the process of delivering a major ass-kicking. I considered it prep work.

I glanced at Jude, who was hovering in place, and then I craned my neck and spotted Rafe, flying the perimeter above us.

Rush walked up from behind. Like a lion on the prowl, he quickly recognized who Lily was fighting. His chiseled features tensed, his fists clenching against his legs. The phantom queen wasn’t a woman to him. She was a symbol of evil, a monster who’d put a lot of people he cared for in danger. She made his blood boil.

I held out a hand that signaled him to stay back.

“My grandma has this part taken care of.”

Nostrils flaring, he stopped.

Jude snorted and said, “That’s an understatement.”

We watched on the sidelines, as Camille stumbled back a few steps, recovered quickly, and then smiled through the blood that formed at her lip. In a flash, she lunged at Lily, arms thrashing. Punches and kicks were traded back and forth, wild and vicious—too vicious for me to see them all land.

From the looks of things, my grandmother had the upper hand, so I didn’t feel the need to help her. At one point, they were both rolling on the ground, clawing and pulling hair, pounding foreheads and faces into the mud. Then just as suddenly as the fight began, a victor emerged; Lily ended the drama with a roundhouse kick to Camille’s jaw.

She flashed me the kind of grin that made you either smile back or run for your life. Since I knew she loved me, I figured I was probably safe.

Pulling her up by the hair, Lily dragged Camille through the mud, as the queen stumbled to get to her feet. Blood, mixed with dirt and grass, covered her from head to foot. She looked defeated, beat down, just like the sociopath deserved to be.

I stared at Lily in amazement. I’d never seen anyone fight like she could, except on television, and that wasn’t real. It was manufactured. Fake blows, bogus blood—all choreographed to appear deadly. Lily was a true warrior, and it was a bright day for everyone that her sword arm swung for the good guys.

Lily sent a worn look my way and smiled.

“Let’s finish this and be done with her once and for all.”

Jude popped in next to Camille and gave the queen of the phantoms a onceover.

He cracked a smile and said, “You beat the crap out of her, Grandma Lily!”

Lily shook her head but couldn’t quiet hide the grin that tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“There’s no time for celebrating, Jude. We still need to vanquish her, before she regains her strength.”

Jude nodded, and then both of their gazes rested on me.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he asked.

I let out an exasperated breath and said, “I need to question her first.”

Lily flung her at my feet. She hit the ground hard, air exploding from her lungs, but other than that, she barely made a sound. She just lay there in the mud. If it weren’t for the fact that she was a murderous bitch, I’d have felt bad for her. As it stood, I had to stop myself from getting my own licks in, because what I saw when I looked at her was the faces of the women she’d had kidnapped, raped, and tortured. She deserved a lot more than just a beatdown and a mud bath. Truth be told, she deserved to die. End of story.

I flexed my fingers and knelt down beside Camille, saying, “Look at me.”

She shifted positions, turning her face far enough out of the mud, so that I could look her straight in the eyes. The normal bright green of them was muted down to olive, and her usual vibrant pale flesh was dulled. Her aura was bursting in sputtering-out sparks, leaving the body to appear more human
.
That could only mean one terrible thing—the queen was trying to flee.

Somehow, I could feel Camille’s aura; it was hovering, in parts, around the host’s body. The only thing keeping her from making a swifter getaway was the silver chain wrapped around her neck. That was the bad news. The good news was that if I could see her aura, it meant my powers were returning.

My heart gave a thump of excitement, as I sneered down at her and asked, “Where are the women?”

She glanced left, at my grandmother, and then back at me.

“Fuck you!” she spat.

“Wrong answer.” Anger swept through me, as my fist found her face…
thwack
! “Where are you keeping them?” I repeated, that time in a deeper tone.

Tears and blood formed at her eyes. Her pain didn’t make me feel remorseful; it just angered me further. She never showed the women she terrorized any mercy.

Her weak arms fell out from underneath her, and she rolled over to her back.

“Just get on with it. I’ll never tell you where they are. I won’t let you win.”

“Jesus Christ!” Lily yelled. “Just tell her!”

Camille’s face shifted into a mask of evil, as she said, “Like I said, fuck off!”

Camille reached up and yanked the silver chain from around her host’s neck. Her skin glowed white, as she made one last effort to escape, if not physically, then by dumping the body she’d hijacked. And with the silver pulled away from her flesh, it was possible.

I lifted my hands and focused on the spark of energy at the base of my third eye and urged it to ignite and then flow steadily into them. My palms itched, a prickly heat that let me know it was working, and fast. After a few moments of buildup, I felt as if I’d never been drained of my power. It had returned to me in full force.

I reached out with that revived magic and was able to feel her, in crisp relief, as she struggled inside a prison of flesh and bone, which was barely breathing. Camille was killing her. I had to jerk the bitch out of that poor woman quickly if there was to be any chance of saving her.

Glowing with purpose, my hands gravitated toward the body. I laid my palms against the bare flesh of the stomach. My head jerked back from the force of contact. I searched for Camille deep within the chaos of the host’s mind, and it didn’t take long for me to find and then pluck the bright white thread that was her lifeline. With my eyes closed, I pulled and tugged on that thread, much like a magician performing a handkerchief trick, until the last bit of it was removed from the body. What I was left with was one of the most powerful supernatural beings in the world, combined into spun energy, in the palms of my hands. Without hesitation, I squeezed them both into a tight fist, squashing what remained of Camille, the phantom queen, into oblivion.

I wiped away a bead of sweat and pulled myself to my feet. A wash of unspent power churned around me like a river, rampant and hungry, wanting to do more—create or destroy. It didn’t matter to the energy; it just raged on. My fleshed burned with it, almost to a painful pitch. I fell back down to my knees, palms to the ground, and screamed, as white and blue starbursts of light streaked out, pulsing underneath the surface of the ground, spreading, like a contagious disease, toward a large tree in the distance. Dirt clods exploded through the air, and the smell of ozone filled my nostrils.

My power was out of control, fueled by Camille’s magic, which it had just consumed. My body couldn’t store all of it, or maybe I was just so green at the new magic gig that my ignorance was the problem, and I didn’t know how to recycle it properly, so it decided to do it itself.

Hands frozen to the ground, my eyes shot to the tree. Lily bolted to my side, but she couldn’t get close, as the magic pushed her away in a blaze of backdraft.

I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out.

Rain fell in tiny droplets across my heated cheeks, cooling them a little but not enough to erase the burn. As I watched the tree that my wayward magic seemed to be concentrating on, the trunk, the branches, and all its leaves began to shake furiously. The roots uplifted from the ground, as it rolled and twisted, exploding into a wall of dust and chunks of wet soil, with grass attached.

A hand stroked across my arm.

“Kris, love, open your eyes.”

My eyes felt tight, but I managed to crack them. The world spun and rocked. I felt like I was going to hurl.

“What’s going on?” I asked, gripping Rush’s hand for support. “Where am I?”

Jude’s bright face appeared in front of me, and he said, “You had a power overload, Kris. It knocked you clean on your ass.”

“How are you feeling?” Lily asked, as she shooed the ghost away from me.

Memories of a fight and then the subsequent demise of the queen at my hands came rushing back to me. I jumped to my feet, my eyes cutting to the power-flooded earth beneath the tree. My influence still pulsed there, and it was calling out to me, hooking into my skin like barbed wire, pulling me in that direction.

Rush stood and said, “Kris. It’s your eyes. They’re glowing.”

“What about it? They almost always glow.”

As I looked into Rush’s eyes, I could see a blue glint of light. It was the reflection of my own power.

“Are my eyes shining blue, instead of red?” I asked.

Eyes glued to mine, all three of them nodded.

My hands shot over my eyes, and I rubbed and then blinked, like I was trying to get something out. At the same time, my power still called to me from the other side of the field, swirling and merging, like it was a tangible thing.

“What is happening to me? What does this mean?”

“It means, child, that you’re even more powerful than I could have ever imagined.”

I heard the ground crack and rumble, and I looked around, forgetting about everything else but what was taking place across the field. Power flowed heavy, filling the air with a spicy taste of something that my instincts felt at ease with. But simultaneously, it frightened my suspicious mind. I could sense life anew, stirring in that direction, wanting to stretch and build into awareness, to breathe, and to quench an overwhelming thirst for blood.

The origin of the magic screamed at my subconscious:
Vampire!

My head swung toward Rush, as I yelled, “I thought you killed all of the monsters!”

He looked as confused as I felt.

“I didn’t leave anyone standing. Rafe is sweeping the property, looking for any strays, as we speak.”

If all of them have been slayed, then what am I sensing?

I knew the taste of
vampire
coating my tongue didn’t belong to Rafe. I knew that, because his was as distinctive to me as a lemon would be to a human—it was that obvious a flavor. Besides, the one I was picking up on was nearby.

With a thunderous charge, a large blast tilted the earth in an explosion of dirt and roots. I was thrown back. Luckily, my ass didn’t have a chance to hit ground. I was pulled back up by strong hands that belonged to my vampire. Before I’d even gotten my feet back under me, Rafe moved around me to help Rush. My grandmother, surefooted as always, was still standing, hands on her hips, shaking her head, as she stared off at the blast site. But instead of looking forward, her head was tilted up.

“Well, child, you did it again.” She looked back over her shoulder at me and smiled. “And this time… you created a doozie.”

“Huh?” My eyes shot to the sky. “What are you taking abo—?” I was stunned silent.

Shading the sky with midnight wings, surrounded by a fog of fresh dust, flew two reanimated vampires. The dark beauties’ wings were arched and flared wide, heads thrown back, their mouths agape in release of a turbulent scream. I watched, as their eyes flashed silver. In the next second, those eyes were on me.

I managed to catch enough breath to say, “This can’t be happening again.”

T
wo sets of mocha-colored feet touched down near where I stood. With their bodies covered with dirt and long black hair matted with mud, the creatures didn’t seem scared or worried about the group of people surrounding them. They stood tall—almost a full six feet if I’d guessed—with features as blank and as fresh as a sheet of paper.

I stared at them cautiously, twins with wings like that of a raven’s but massive. Both women were exquisite, with feathers as black as night that protruded from their backs, still spread wide. My eyes skipped over their naked bodies and spotted the image of a wing across the flesh of both of them. The insignia on the one in front of me was over her pelvic area, close to her right hip. And the other woman’s identical mark was situated over her left breast.

Their eyes shone a brilliant green, as they watched me, watching them.

They should have been terrified, more than confused. Instead, their obsidian wings furled in on themselves and then were gone. It was the same way Rafe’s wings flashed out. But his remained as a mark across his back. Theirs left without a trace.  

“Why are we here?” asked the twin with the image near her hip.

I found myself staring into her moonlit eyes—brilliant, like cut emeralds—and a faint smile stole over me. I stopped wondering what I was going to do about the new development and, instead, focused on what really mattered, my new creations. I closed my eyes and let the freak-out I was experiencing pour down my body for a few seconds longer, and then I sucked it up. It was time to be a big girl, or as the circumstances demanded, a responsible Creator. I’d start from the beginning.

“What was your last memory before tonight?”

The twin with the wing over her breast remained silent, letting her sister answer all my questions.

A moment of awareness shone in the dominant twin’s eyes, and her features remained stoic, as she tried to remember her life before she died. And I wondered when she’d realize that she had, in fact, been dead. It didn’t take long.

“What year is it?” she asked.

I told her the year, and her jaw tensed. It was the first sign of emotion she’d shown. She hesitated for a beat and then looked over at her sister. Her lips pulled into what I could only describe as the sweetest smile I’d ever seen.

“We’re free of them, Nova.”

Nova’s eyes moved to me and then back to her sister.

“How is this possible, Rebel? Why do we live?” Her questions came out slowly, as if she were in a zombified state.

Rebel grabbed Nova by the shoulders and pulled her forward, until they ended up face to face with each other. I was scared that she was going to smack her or shake some sense into her, but she didn’t. She just gazed at her tenderly. It was as if no one else in the field existed—only them.

“Sister, it doesn’t matter how. What matters is that after 20 years, we are alive. Look around you. Do you see any of the bastards who hurt us? No, right?”

“Who hurt you?” I asked.

Without even glancing my way, it was Nova that answered that time. In a trancelike state, her hand moved over a set of lips that were like two fluffy pillows, lined darker than her skin around the edges; a warm rosy hue filled them in, making them appear freshly colored by lipstick.

She dragged her fingers across those rouged lips and said, “They liked to bite us first.” Her fingers skipped to her neck. “Here.” She dragged the trembling digits down her body, her stomach, and then finally across the inside of her thighs, to dip between her closed legs. “And here.”

Rebel sighed and said, “We’re safe, sister, we must be. Can’t you feel it?”

The fact that those reanimated vampires were adapting so quickly to their new physiological appearance, as well as the emotional toll that the changes should be having on them, was absolutely remarkable. Other than the apparent residual trauma from a hard life of abuse and captivity, those two women seemed to be adjusting to their new circumstances at an alarming rate.

I’d learned that lesson from a similar experience with my formerly one and only creation, Rafe. My magic worked much like an electrical grid of high-voltage transmissions, sparking each connection, or in that case, molecular buildup, inside the corpse, replicating his or her DNA material into the perfect specimen of themselves. Along with their new appearance came an instant and unbreakable bond between vampire and Creator. And the bond worked both ways.

Nova gave us all a slow sweep of her gaze. She looked at me, and her focus held.

“She feels safe.”

Her warm statement sent shivers through me.

I nodded and said, “You and your sister can trust me.”

Rebel placed a hand on her sister’s shoulder.

“I believe her.”

At the sound of a loud boom, accompanied by screams ringing out from across the field, our
get-to-know-you
time was interrupted. So much for making my newly turned vampires feel all safe and cuddly.

Nova’s and Rebel’s eyes narrowed, and their wings flared out in black sheets behind them, as they surged up into the sky.

Lily and the others ran toward the commotion. The screams grew louder.

I inhaled deeply and said, “Rafe.”

Something hit me hard in the back, and I found myself lifted off the ground, to soar through the air.

Rebel’s breath hit my cheek, as she said, “I got you.”

The farm exploded in the distance.

I squinted through watery eyes. The swiftness of air rushing into them was making it hard for me to see anything. But I could have sworn I saw Rafe flying away from the blast, holding something, maybe a body, in his arms. Then he tossed it in the fire. Another vampire bit the dust, or more accurately, kissed the flames.

Rebel’s grip tightened around my chest. All the while, she dodged flying debris and wood shrapnel with expert precision. Not even a splinter had touched us. She did have me, and I felt safe… for the moment.

We landed at the fence line between the field and the main house—the same house where I’d been held when I first arrived.

I took a step forward, and I could see Rush, running through the back door of the house. My grandmother must have already been inside, because I couldn’t see her anywhere.

Jude appeared at my side. He pointed to a van not far from us that had just pulled up to the house.

“Damn. How many vampires live in this town?” I asked.

Rebel’s smooth light voice said, “It doesn’t matter. They won’t be alive for long.”

“Huh?”

“Not after Nova is finished with them.”

I gave her an odd look that said exactly what I’d just voiced.

“She has a bit of a temper. And this place is a stresser for her.”

“Oh.”

I watched, as five vampires hopped out of the back of the van. That meant there were at least two more in front that I couldn’t see: the driver and, more than likely, a passenger. My heart skipped five beats, when I realized that all of the creatures were heading toward the house where Lily and Rush were.

“Look,” Jude said, moving his finger to the sky.

When I looked up, I saw Nova in mid dive bomb, her face a mask of cool determination. Her wings were pressed against her back, and she had a set of black talons protruding from her outstretched fingers. Hers was a chilling beauty that mesmerized, as she swooped down to attack the rushing vampires. All five of them were taken off guard. They tried ducking out of reach of her sharp claws, and two narrowly escaped. One hopped behind the van, as the driver and passenger popped off gunshots from inside the cab.

Rebel shook her head and flashed a wicked grin, saying, “The hell if I’m going to let my sister have all the fun.”

She then shot up into the air.

Seconds after Rebel flew off, Rafe appeared. His gaze shifted between the battling ravens and me, his expression guarded.

“I leave you alone for what… 20 minutes tops, and this is what I find?”

There was no time to explain my new creations, so I shrugged and said, “Congratulations. You have twin sisters.”

His eyes went wide, and then he laughed a jolted rumble.

“I can handle that.”

The twins had their combatants well in hand. That thought became literal, as Rebel touched down at the backs of the three vampires who were hiding. With a swift arch, her right arm swung back, talons sharp and eager, slashing down through the neck of one of them. Blood arced, as his head tumbled to land at her feet. She twirled on the one next to him, grabbing his outstretched arm. She bit down and flew back, taking the arm with her. He barely had time to scream, before she whipped around and took his head, too. Nova walked over and stood near what remained of the two.

“Impressive,” she said, sounding more alive than she had only minutes before. Her eyes cut to the remaining vampire, who was scrambling, scooting backwards on the palms of his hands and butt. “What are we going to do with him?”

And then I realized I’d just been standing around, watching, while I should have been in the thick of it, too. I needed to be fighting, so I didn’t stick around to find out what happened to the remaining vampire.

I spotted a gun on the ground about 20 paces away and went for it. Dust pinged around the ground at my feet, as I ran. They were bullets fired from the cab of the van.

Rafe narrowed in, his face a mask of,
You’re fucked
.

“I’ll take care of those assholes!” he yelled over the rapid fire.

I wanted to say, “No. Stop putting yourself in danger for me,” but instead, I yelled back, “Be careful!”

Magic wended through my body, reaching and sparking out with every blow my creations delivered to my enemies. All three of my winged vampires were deadly, and they were in the process of protecting me, without question or hesitation. It was a humbling scene to behold. I just hoped I could live up to such loyalty.

Finally, I grasped the gun and tightened my grip around it. Rafe reached the driver’s side of the van at the same time. His arm disappeared inside of the open window and pulled free the gunman who’d been shooting at me. Rafe was fast, faster than he’d been only a few weeks ago. With one arm, he slammed the guy against the hood of the car. I flinched at the sharp, echoing crack of the guy’s back breaking. With an open palm, Rafe pummeled the vampire’s head into nothing but mush and broken bones. He then grabbed up what was left of his victim’s muddled and bloody hair and pulled the guy’s head clean off.

It was the most gruesome kill I’d ever had the misfortune to witness.

Somehow, I controlled the contents of my stomach and the horrified scream that croaked hoarse within my throat and raced toward the house in search of Rush and my grandmother.