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“My choice, Michael.” A weary sigh escaped Ohngel’s lips.
“You’re willing to accept the consequences?” the Bearer of Death asked.
When the fire-winged assassin dipped his chin, Michael said, “Don’t you want to know what they are first?”
Ohngel’s chest expanded with a deep breath. “Sure. Lay them on me.”
“The new Blood Coven requires a boost to repair the damage. They need a conduit, an immortal through which their spells may pass. But this immortal’s body will suffer from the use. It will sink into a deep healing coma, recovering a millennium from now.”
“How do you know this?” asked Ohngel.
Michael tapped his ear. “A direct broadcast from the OneCreator.”
Ohngel’s heart stuttered. If he did this thing, Indy would be lost to him, dead behind the gates of the Evermore by the time he arose. If he did not, mankind would fall to the Aeternals.
His chance for happiness slipped away. All along, he doubted it was for him. Still, against the odds, he would have liked to have had it with Indy by his side.
He understood. This was his penance for disobeying the OneCreator’s rules. Interference. Bad. Sitting on your ass while the world crumbles. Good. He had told himself he was not interfering. Rather, he was guiding events where they wanted to go.
Lie to others. Never yourself.
Michael waved a hand, pushing aside clouds below to reveal a corral on Earth. Ragged, dirty, beaten humans crowded into cages where they were being saved for food. Another flick of his wrist revealed a town where doors stood wide and bodies littered streets, the inhabitants’ blood, lifeforces, or souls drained.
Ohngel glared. “I know what’s happening, Michael. I don’t need a visual.”
Dominion’s eyes narrowed. “You should practice keeping your fucking mouth closed, Michael.” To Ohngel, he said, “Think hard on this, brother. I do not trust the Bearer of Death. He has his head up the OneCreator’s ass.”
Michael drew his sword. Dominion did the same, crouching, preparing to attack.
Ohngel shoved between the males. “I am not here to start a war in Vast. I came for ideas. Put aside your differences.”
Dominion re-sheathed his blade. Michael did the same.
“If you persist in your interference, this is your only recourse. You will draw energy from me. Once it amps your powers, you can pass it to your Blood Coven. Of course, more wattage would be better.” Michael glanced at the Feard, the winged-assassins of the OneCreator.
His friends could be assholes, but they were loyal.
“If you insist on this, Ohngel, I’m in.” Ely re-holstered his blade.
“Count on me also,” said Remy.
Dom’s lips slashed into a frown. “I am with you, brother. But if this bastard betrays us.” He pointed at Michael. “I’ll be pissed.”
“When you awaken, Earth will be much changed,” said Michael.
Dominion slammed his fists to his hips. “But he will awake. Won’t he?”
When Michael failed to answer, Dom said, “Bow out, glow ball. He may draw from the assassins. We shall be sure he does not overload.”
“Won’t work, one-eye.” Michael steadied himself as if waiting for Dom to charge. “I must anchor the circle.”
“Figures,” said Remy. “The Bearer of Death writes and directs the movie. He also makes himself the central character.”
“Once our power pours into you, you relay it to your Blood Coven. Drawing on it, they can re-create the portals and the Whorl. The three realms will be as they were.”
“I understand.” To save both species and to atone for his interference, Ohngel must give up Indigo. But she would live her life in a better world. “Who will protect my witch when I am unable?”
“I shall watch over her,” Dom answered without hesitation.
