Before I could yell at Calan to stay back, those red orbs rolled toward me. Visions flashed in my mind and I froze in place. Thousands of people lay bloody on the ruined streets of Denver. Darkness rolled over the sky, unnatural clouds eating up the atmosphere like an infectious virus. The stench of sulfur and blood had me gagging. Demon dogs tore at the corpses in the streets, while dark creatures of all types from the Stygian freely roamed the city. The crib flapped their leathery wings as they flew by, holding tight to children who called out for their mothers to save them. Massive giants made of black mist walked overhead, striking fear in my heart and causing a cold sweat to pop out on my chest and forehead. Then there was Othanos, standing at the center of it all. Standing in front of Calan who looked completely unaffected by all of his surroundings. It was as if Calan couldn’t see the carnage and death surrounding him. Othanos pulled out a dagger with a wavy blade from his robes. I started running toward them, yelling for Calan to look out.
Calan slowly looked up at me, his face blank and unsuspecting.
Othanos raised his arm. No matter how fast I ran, I never got any closer. The knife ran through Calan’s stomach. His hands flew to the hilt of the knife, looking first at the weapon then up at Othanos with surprise on his face. He fell to one knee as blood began to spread from his wound and saturate his shirt.
“No,” I screamed, still not getting any closer. Calan fell, blood trickling out the side of his mouth as his eyes glazed over, unseeing. He was dead.
Power swirled around me. I pulled it to me from the air until I was brimming with magic fueled by rage and grief. I needed more. I needed to suck Othanos dry, take from him the way he took from me. I reached out a hand ready to crack his essence from the shell of his physical being.
Othanos jerked and the vision disappeared. I was suddenly back on Pearle street, no bodies, no apocalypse. Othanos grasped at a bolt sticking out of his shoulder. And from what I could tell, only mere seconds had passed. Calan was still a safe distance from Othanos, fierce frustration on his face but he didn’t step any closer.
Jo strode up the sidewalk, a crossbow aimed at Othanos. “Heya Emma, need a hand from a dashing knight in armor?”
“We’re calling plaid shirts armor now?” Krystan asked from behind me. Despite her sarcasm, the words came out clipped. She was scared.
When I looked down, I saw my hands were shaking and light was sparking off them. Aware of the raw energy pulsating through me, I saw Travis running straight at Othanos with a war cry and his crossbow. Barely a few seconds had passed, but in that time, I'd not only witnessed my recurring nightmare, I’d somehow harnessed the magic of my vision and I was scared if I moved I might blow.
Othanos backed up, recognizing he was outnumbered. What little features he had were screwed up in anguish. With one last pained look in my direction, he turned and ran down the opposite street. Jo and Travis chased after him but Travis was soon back, huffing and puffing.
“We turned the corner, and poof, he was gone,” Travis said, running a frustrated hand through his hair.
Calan crushed me to his body. “Are you alright?”
I mutely nodded, still trying to calm myself down. How much power had I been wielding? It felt like I could have leveled the entire city.
Calan refused to loosen his arms and I grasped back at him tightly. I’d just watch him die. I knew it was in my mind and some kind of trick Othanos played on me, but it felt as real as Calan’s arms around me now.
Jo jogged up to us, a cocky smile on his face. In his mid-twenties, Jo was Native American with a strong aquiline nose that added an elegance to his handsome face. His dark eyes only ever twinkled or smoldered. Right now they were two glittering marbles, as a smirk pulled at his mouth. “Sure you want to get married to this guy? Can’t even take out a nasty little demon. Here’s to hoping he can unload a dishwasher.”
Calan crossed his arms and sent Jo an icy look. Jo belonged to the Order of Terra and while he was part of one of the least offensive Orders, he was an incorrigible flirt. Thankfully, he’d backed off his more serious advances. When we’d been trapped in the Stygian, he’d propositioned me with the opportunity to marry and lead the Order of Terra with him.
Catching Calan’s vibe, Jo put his hands up in surrender and backed up a few steps. “I can take a hint.”
“That was stressful,” Krystan said, still standing behind the patio fence.
I nodded in agreement, still reeling and overwrought from power and emotion.
“So stressful, my water just broke.”
6
We piled into the van and Travis drove like a bat out of hell since he was the one who could handle the van the best, while Calan white-knuckle gripped the glove compartment handle. I held Krystan’s hand until we got to the hospital where she was transferred into a wheelchair and disappeared with Travis.
Jo had followed along behind us in his own car, and sauntered into the hospital, hands in his pockets. At one time, I could see the appeal of his swagger and suave charm, but today it grated on me.
“What do you want, Jo?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.
“It’s not about what I want, it’s about what I can give you.”
Waving him on, I said, “Spit it out, genius. My wedding is in two weeks, my friend is in labor, and we just got attacked in broad daylight.”
Jo’s nose wrinkled. “Yeah who was that guy?”
I tapped my foot.
Catching my hint, he went on. “I was coming to RSVP to the wedding.”
“What are you talking about? We didn’t send you an invite,” I said, setting a hand on my hip. “And wait, how did you know where I was?”
