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Percival says the vampire blood will make sleep a problem, but that it’s mission-critical for Exozar to be dreaming at noon after a night with a full moon, Rowan explains. Apparently, in those things is a drug that can facilitate this—the only problem being a nightmare side effect.
Ah, so it’s that Koshmar poison again, the one that makes you see a nightmare based on whatever happened right before you got dosed. It was used on me by the late Dr. Cipactli, also known as the High Priest of the Gomorran Icelus cell. Valerian mentioned that Icelus had many uses for it, and here’s one. I guess they now have a quick-acting version and utilize it a bit like how I plan to use my newfound power to put people into REM sleep.
Percival shouts something to one of his pre-vamp companions. The guy comes over and lies on the ground. Aiming the gizmo at his face, Percival presses on the top of the device, and an odorless spray escapes with a hiss.
It seems to take effect immediately; the pre-vamp’s eyes start to move rapidly behind their lids.
You know, Rowan chimes in, last night was a full moon, and it’s about noon now.
Puck. If they needed him to sleep for the reason I think—
As though to confirm my concerns, I hear the dreaded music from the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy.
Instantly and without explanation, I jolt Rowan awake. Then I do the same to myself—and disappear just as the Nutcracker appears smack in the middle of Exozar’s dream.
Chapter Twenty-Five
We’re back in Exozar’s bedroom.
Looking disoriented, Rowan sits up.
“The Nutcracker. He’s in his dreams right now.” I point at Exozar’s head.
Valerian narrows his eyes. “That hints he’s guilty.”
“We don’t need hints,” Rowan says, all signs of sleepiness gone from her face. “We saw him meet with the pre-vamp Icelus group. He’s as guilty as—”
“Wait,” I say, holding up a hand.
Something’s wrong, but I can’t figure out what.
Fabian’s ears prickle. “I hear shuffling footsteps in the other room.”
At the same exact time, I understand what’s bugging me.
It’s a specific feeling—or lack thereof.
“Exozar’s awake,” I exclaim, finally putting my finger on it.
Though the necromancer’s eyes are still closed, I can no longer feel him in REM sleep. The Nutcracker must’ve woken him up with a jolt.
As if waiting for me to say that, a handful of zombies rush into the room, no doubt under Exozar’s control.
Stanislav swings a fist at Exozar’s face, but the necromancer rolls off the bed, yelps in pain as he hits the floor, and rolls under the bed before anyone can get to him.
Ariel gives the bed frame a hard kick. The wooden structure collapses on top of Exozar, and we hear the necromancer grunt in pain.
“This is not good,” Felix says in a frightened voice.
I follow his gaze.
Puck. That’s a major understatement.
One of the attacking zombies is strapped with dynamite, and another has just lit the fuse.
Before my life can flash before my eyes, Rowan shoots multicolored energy at the zombie-bomb. The zombie stops in his tracks and swiftly backs away from us. However, a fellow zombie kicks the dynamite carrier’s leg, breaking it like a twig, and another zombie breaks the other leg as two more tackle the wounded bomb-zombie to the ground.
“Run!” Rowan bolts for the door.
Fabian grabs Dylan, throws her over his shoulder like a sack, and sprints after Rowan. Stanislav snatches up Felix and Itzel, and Ariel grabs me, whooshing out of the house before I can so much as think “holy uber.”
As soon as we’re outside, she puts me on my feet and shouts for me to run.
I instinctively launch into a sprint, then stop and spin around, eyes widening in horror as I register the lack of a tall, broad-shouldered figure behind me.
Valerian.
He’s not here.
He’s still inside that house—and there can’t be much length left on that fuse.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I lunge toward the house, but strong arms grasp my shoulders, yanking me to a stop.
“Let me go!” I yell, struggling with Ariel.
She doesn’t listen.
After what feels like the longest second of my life, Valerian flies out of the house.
Boom.
The blast sends him flying.
I twist out of Ariel’s grasp and sprint toward him. But before I can get to him, he sits up, brushing the dirt and gravel off his clothes.
“You okay?” I pant, crouching next to him.
He nods and gets to his feet. “I got lucky.” He looks at the house on fire and curses under his breath. “There goes our chance to question Exozar.”
Exozar, right. Rising to my feet, I try to get my frantic heartbeat under control. Valerian is fine. He made it. We all did. Still, my hand is unsteady as I push back my hair and readjust my mask. That second when I thought he wasn’t going to make it—
Nope, not going there. Got to focus on the situation at hand. Exozar must’ve done this on purpose, sacrificing himself for the Icelus cause—or to avoid getting tortured for information.
