Page 48 of Death God

If they crossed over, they’d tear me apart. The souls under the water struggled to surface in order to crawl to the bridge to reach me. They all wanted a piece of me, craving my power, hungering for even a sip, as they’d been starved and used for centuries.

Their shrieks pounded my brain like a rainstorm in the deep night, so intense and piercing that I stumbled back, my shaking, leaden hands lifting weakly as I endeavored to fend them off to no avail.

Then they started to suck in my energy greedily.

The dead wanted to feed on the living. I’d recklessly opened a gateway to them without properly shielding myself. I might be Death’s daughter, but I was a novice in dealing with the dead and the spiritual realm.

So I became a lit match in the endless darkness and coldness, drawing a sea of spirits toward me.

Fucking leeches! I cursed.

Yet there was nothing I could do against an army of tens of thousands of angry spirits alone.

I could barely form a plan as everything happened so fast. I screamed back at the dead, but my voice was a drop of water lost in the vast dark ocean. I was drowning. It was worse than drowning. The horde of dead was going to break apart my every atom and devour them.

I fell to my knees, my hands grasping my pounding head.

Stop! Fucking stop! My scream carried no sound and no power.

The attack and the brutal feeding kept going and became more intense.

“What’s happening?” Sam cried out.

Dylan shouted in alarm as well, and they rushed toward me.

An unseen black wind tossed them back, forming a barrier between them and the ward and me. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t be able to send the wind to shield them, as the cuffs still bound my power, but my fear of the dead hurting my family gave me a sudden blast of strength.

“The ward must be attacking her,” Duck Shit said. “I told her not to get fucking close! We carry the Alpha King’s blood mark. Even with that, we still ride in the vehicles warded with the king’s blood crest. That’s how it works.”

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Sam shouted at him.

“Lady Pip never listens to anyone, not even to the commander,” Duck Shit yelled back. He seemed to be sweating. “Not even to the king. Now it’s biting her in the ass, and I’ll be the collateral damage!”

“Just do something!” Sam yelled. “Help my sister. We can’t even get closer to her. Something is blocking me!”

She tried to break the barrier and pounded on the invisible obstacle.

“A shield,” Duck Shit murmured. “She raised the shield to protect you from the ward.”

“We can’t just leave her there,” Dylan shouted in anger as he joined Sam, battering my shield that prevented them from reaching me. Their concern for me warmed my heart, but their efforts were laughable. It was like two ants pounding on a rock. “She’s obviously suffering. You’re her guards. You’re supposed to protect her. Or help us get to her!”

Duck Shit rushed toward the dark mages, seeking their aid in his stupidity.

The mages and witches gathered around as they watched me coil and writhe on the ground in agony. I heard their delighted snickering.

Centuries of horror and pain inflicted on the tens of thousands of spirits sank into my soul, their suffering becoming mine, their cries for salvation driving me toward insanity, and their demand for revenge waking me up.

I thought I’d suffered enough. They’d suffered even more since there was no hope for them.

Now control them, Pip, my spirit allies called urgently and rose from my cuffs, lining up on either side of me like my new court. Control the storm. Push them back. Don’t let them cross over.

Easy for you to say. They’re a legion and I’m one, I whined bitterly as nausea dragged me under the dark water.

The dead had no remorse and no conscience, just need—the insatiable need to feed. And they turned their rage on me.

Rein them in. You’re the mistress of the domain, my spirit allies called. They’d declared themselves to be my court until they had their revenge and I released them. Command them like you commanded us. They have numbers, but we have more power. We’re boosting you as you boosted us. Quit bitching. If you can’t command the dead and get them in line, you’re no use to anyone, and your mission here has already failed.

Then all would be lost. Spartoi would dominate Earth with no contesting power. He’d erase every big power and trap them like he’d trapped those souls. Marlowe, our vampire warriors, and my friends would be his next targets.

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