Page 47 of Nearly Dead

I’m about to respond with something appropriately sarcastic when a chill sweeps through the room.The temperature drops so suddenly that Lorelai’s breath becomes visible in small, frightened puffs.

“What’s happening?”she asks, wrapping her arms around herself.

I know before Zephronis can answer.I’ve felt this before.

“Conrad,” I whisper, my eyes scanning the shadows.

The wizard moves to Lorelai’s side, one hand raised defensively.“Are you certain?”

The lights flicker, and the books on the shelves begin to vibrate, some sliding out to crash to the floor.A familiar voice that has haunted me since his death fills the room.

“Run, little sister.Run while you still can.”

Unlike before, Conrad’s voice doesn’t sound mocking.He’s afraid.

“Conrad?”I call out, turning in place.“Show yourself.”

“He’s coming.He’s already there.”

The windows rattle in their frames.The door to the library slams shut with such force that Lorelai yelps in surprise.

“Who’s coming?”I demand, though I already know the answer.

“Leviathan.”Conrad’s voice seems to come from everywhere at once.“He wants what you are.What you can become.”

“Zephronis,” I say, my voice tight.“Get Lorelai out of here.”

The wizard nods, taking my birth mother by the arm.“Come,” he tells her.“This is not a battle for mortals.”

“No,” Lorelai protests.“I won’t leave her!”

“Your presence will only distract her,” Zephronis insists.

“But—”

“I will return,” Zephronis promises me.“Remember, balance is key.”

Zephronis taps Lorelai on the forehead, and they both disappear into a spark of white light.

As they disappear, a shadow detaches itself from the ceiling, pooling on the floor like spilled ink.I back away, feeling both my vampire and wolf natures stirring in response to the threat.

“Conrad,” I call again.“What does he want from me?”

“What all necromancers want.Power over life and death.”Conrad’s voice sounds strained, as if he’s fighting to speak.“But he can’t control me much longer.I’m fighting him, Tam-tam.”

The shadow on the floor begins to take shape, rising into a hooded figure.The temperature drops further, frost crystallizing on the bookshelves and walls.My breath clouds in the air.

I don’t take my eyes off the forming apparition.

“Don’t let him take you,”Conrad warns, his voice echoing into silence.

I know I can’t trust my brother, no matter how earnest he sounds.It all feels like a manipulation meant to confuse me.

“How beautifully touching,” Leviathan mocks.His voice slides over my skin like poisoned silk.His dark form seems to eat the light.“The devoted brother, trying to protect his little sister.After he tried to kill her and frame her for mass murder, of course.”

Every cell in my body recoils, but I stand my ground.

The cloaked form steps forward and solidifies into an imposing figure.He’s lean and elegant, and disturbingly fluid, like he’s a half second from turning into smoke.His unremarkable features are neither handsome nor ugly.Honestly, if I’d met him on the street, I wouldn’t have remembered him.

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