Praxis: The Blood Magic Saga Collection Praise Page

A woman of science. A man of magic. Hunted for their HeartsBlood. A rousing adventure filled with action and romance.

Praise for Blood Magic Saga…

“In my opinion this is Carolyn McCray's best collection yet. This is really hard for me to say because she has not published a bad book thus far. It's like having to choose your favorite child...but I have to say this is my favorite!

Praxis: The Blood Magic Saga Collection has 3 current books with 1 on the way. In my opinion, this collection could simply take on a life of its own and she could write strictly on this series. I don't know what genre this series fall under, but in my opinion, it can be paranormal, fiction, romance, suspense and thriller.”

CBilbo

Amazon Reviewer

“I read Heartsblood last year and don't think a book has ever emotionally grabbed me like that one did. I cried tears of happiness in some parts and sobbed with sadness at other parts, and the ending, well it had me desperate for the next book in the series. I still have a wait until that comes out, so I was more than happy to see this collection and to read Blood Oath and Blood Ties. It was great having all that extra information, and also to know that buying this collection means that in September at no extra cost you will get DeadBlood (YAY) and Bloodlines. You can't go wrong. You can't help but bond with the characters in this series of books, I think that's why it's such an emotional read. I definitely recommend all these books, once you start them you won't want to put them down.”

Dragonrose

Amazon Reviewer

"Book Lovin' Bitches”

“I have been lucky enough to download all of the stories in this collection, separately, in the past few months. Fascinating, action-packed, original, sexy, and touching. I was bowled over, with tears in my eyes and quivering lips when I finished HeartsBlood. The prequel, Blood Oath, gave depth to the saga and explained some plot points more thoroughly and, "Blood Ties," the short bridge story between, HeartsBlood and DeadBlood, was a welcome fix for my sad addiction to Carolyn McCray's writing. But, I WANT MORE AND I WANT IT NOW!! Are you listening, Carolyn???"

Carla Profitt

Amazon Reviewer

This collection contains the entire first cycle of the Blood Magic Saga. It includes… Blood Oath, HeartsBlood, Blood Ties, DeadBlood, Blood Lines, LiveBlood and Blood Letting.

If you purchased this collection before LiveBlood/Blood Letting were added and have not been contacted by Amazon regarding updating your collection, please check the afterword for instruction on how to get the last books uploaded :-)

Main Menu

Blood Oath

HeartsBlood

Blood Ties (EXCLUSIVE to the collection)

DeadBlood

Blood Lines (EXCLUSIVE to the collection)

LiveBlood (EXCLUSIVE to the collection)

Blood Letting (EXCLUSIVE to the collection)

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About the Author

Afterword

Copyright Information

Contact Information

BLOOD OATH – The prequel short story to HeartsBlood

CHAPTER 1

Tyr could feel the beast’s roar down into his marrow. He never should have allowed the beast to get so close. A huge paw swung at him. Tyr barely had time to raise his shield. Claws raked down the iron plating, cutting it as if it were newly churned butter.

It would not hold against another attack. Worse, he heard a guff from the underbrush. The beast’s mate. She did not have the full mane like the male, but she was equally skilled at killing DeadBloods, Tyr was certain. He had been drawn into a trap. There were probably more of the pride in the thick forest.

Where was Tyr’s thane? He had ridden around the ridge to cut off the beast’s escape route, but clearly the beast had never had any intent on running. This had been his aim all along. To separate Tyr off like the weak fawn from the herd.

Damn the beast and his cunning.

Tyr had no other option but to break a vial onto his sword. It erupted into flame, pushing the beasts back. There was at least one thing the beasts still feared.

Fire.

Thank the gods for that boon. However, the flames would not last forever, and Tyr’s back was up against a sheer cliff. There would be no climbing his way out of this one.

His steed long gone, Tyr truly was trapped. The beasts had all the advantage. And he was low on vials. Tyr and his thane had been hounding this beast and his pride for months. Riding hard, sleeping light. They barely had time to break their fast, let alone go into a village and ask for blood to fill the vials.

Besides, in these lonesome highlands the townsfolk were as spooked by the DeadBloods as they were by the beasts. Did they not know that he was sworn to protect them? That his entire life had been dedicated to protecting the LiveBloods from beasts such as this? A blood and sinew oath?

Apparently they did not. On the rare occasion that Tyr and his thane, Dyn, did enter a village, the houses were shuttered and mothers called their children close to them. They couldn’t get a room at an inn, let alone get any of the villagers to volunteer to sacrifice some of their life’s blood to their cause.

Tyr was down to his last few vials. Without blood magic, how could he fight the beast?

He would soon find out, as the huge beast stalked toward him, his mane swaying as he padded forward on his huge paws. The female off to the side was half the male’s size, but equally deadly.

She came out from the brush, a snarl on her lips. Her long fangs shone in the dusk light. It was her time to hunt.

Tyr slashed his flaming sword in front of him. The heat beat against his chest. The flames were hot, but for how long? Blood magic did not last forever. Each drop of blood consumed by the fire.

The she-beast hissed and backed away a step. Only a step, but it took her out of striking distance, so it was a rather important step.

Tyr felt a sudden wave of calmness wash over him. He had been born to fight the beasts and he was born to die at their claws. This was all how it was supposed to happen.

Perhaps Dyn would craft a song for him. Perhaps not. Did it matter? Tyr would not be around to hear it.

He would not give up though, not until a sharp claw was upon his throat, and even then he’d give that paw a bite if he could.

“Ya!” Tyr yelled, stomping his foot on the ground, slashing his sword at the beast. This one did not back. Instead, his pupils constricted and his haunches tightened. It was intelligent enough to realize the flames were dying down. Now it was just a waiting game. The beast was viciously feral, yet knew patience would win the day.

Tyr’s muscles begged him to attack. They wished to do anything but stand here, his back against the rock, and wait to be slaughtered. Yet to attack now would be suicide. He against two beasts? And who knew how many others were out in the brush, waiting to pounce when the time was right?

Even though it strained his self-control, Tyr stood strong. To stay alive even for another moment was a victory.

The beast let out a roar. Three answered him. Not what Tyr was hoping for.

The fire that danced along his sword became more licks than flames. If Tyr didn’t know better, he would have sworn the beast wore a smile.

Then it charged. Tyr swung his sword up to block, but out of the corner of his eye noticed the female charge, as well. He could not defend both sides. He tried to melt into the cliff side, letting the rock protect him, but Tyr knew it would be impossible.

Then a shout. From above. Tyr looked up to find his thane falling from the high cliff above. His sword was held high, aiming for the female. That was all that Tyr needed. Opening up his left side, he faced the male beast full on.

The beast altered course, barely sideswiping Tyr with his huge body. Tyr’s arm was pinned against the rock. The moment it was freed, Tyr took a swing, but was lucky to nick even the beast’s long tail. Hot black blood splattered on Tyr’s face.

Dyn landed on the she-beast’s back, driving his sword up to the hilt between her shoulders. The female took a single step forward, then slumped to the ground, going still.

The beast roared in the forest. His mate had been killed. Vengeance was clearly on the beast’s mind.

Dyn pulled the blade from the body. He limped away, wincing.

“Are you injured?” Tyr asked.

Dyn waved him off. “Just landed a wee bit harder than I expected. I will walk it off.”

“There are more in the forest,” Tyr informed his thane.

“Which is why I hid the horses downwind, right around this bend.”

Tyr’s legs wanted to thank Dyn. He did not want to admit it, but he was beyond exhaustion. Only fear and pride kept him upright.

Together they hobbled down the narrow path that led around the wall of rock. They splashed through a small stream to find a hidden glade.

Hunter, Tyr’s steed, bobbed his head, jiggling his bit. He was ready for action. Probably more ready than Tyr himself.

They mounted silently. Tyr checked his saddle for his weapons. Everything seemed in place. A short sword. A throwing knife. Bow and arrows, plus a small scythe. All of that, and it probably wouldn’t be enough against the pride that they rode against.

“Do not fret, Tyr,” Dyn said.

Tyr’s back straightened. He did not fret. “I am not.”

Dyn smiled, though. “Then the corner of your lips must be lying. I did not mean any disrespect. Any sane man would fear where we tread next.”

That was true, no doubt.

“I found this in an old hunting lodge down the stream,” Dyn explained, pulling out a gourd. “An old DeadBlood must have used it as a blind.”

The gourd looked like a normal smooth-skinned gourd, but if Dyn were excited about it, the interior must have more than seeds.

“Smell it,” Dyn said, leaning over his horse, stretching the gourd toward Tyr. The scent was acrid, making his nostrils seize together. “The exploding powder?”

Dyn nodded. “It is just what we need against a pride of this size.”

Tyr inclined his head to his thane, but he did not understand the magic of the powder. Dyn, however, was a master of much beyond blood magic. He dabbled in alchemies, medicinals, and even explosives.

Of course, that was against the rules that governed them. Forbidden, actually. The breaking of such rules resulted in decapitation. However, those that wrote the rules for DeadBloods did not travel in the forests with DeadBloods. They could not understand what going up against five beasts felt like. They did not bleed when their blood magic ran out. It was DeadBloods who died in the forest. Not the nobles.

Dyn was careful to keep his activities hidden. Only Tyr knew the full extent of Dyn’s interests. Hopefully, the beasts were not aware of Dyn’s nighttime hobbies.

His thane secured the gourd to his saddle. “Let us ride out to meet our foes.”

Tyr gave Hunter the slightest pressure from his heel and the steed leaped forward, breaking into a gallop immediately. The horse and he were nearly one.

He knew when Hunter was hungry or needed to stop at a stream. He knew when they needed to rest for the night. Did Hunter know him so well? It seemed he did as Tyr gave the horse his head, letting him pick his path through the thick wood.

The brush was dense and the trees were packed tightly together, but Hunter was used to it. He’d been born to be a DeadBlood’s steed. The stallion’s first smell was not that of his mother or his handler, but that of a beast. If they did not accustom the foal to the scent immediately, he would never be so courageous to run toward a pride, rather than away.

A roar sounded in the distance. Hunter’s only response was a shiver that went down his withers. His speed never lagged. Knights sworn to the king would have run off at the sound, and Tyr would not have blamed them.

The sound was that of pure fury. Revenge for his mate’s death.

Were they riding into another trap?

Did it matter? They could not turn back now.

Perhaps if they had known before what they knew now, they would have gathered at least ten DeadBloods—again, against the crown’s order to never allow more than five DeadBloods to congregate—to take on a pride of this size.

But they did not know there would be so many, so it was just Dyn and himself. There had been wild rumors of a beast harassing the highlands, stealing babes and wiping out entire herds of sheep. The queen’s guard had come out and spent a fortnight hunting for the scourge, but had come up empty-handed. They had left last winter. Since then, three children had gone missing, and the beast had moved on to cattle.

That was how patient the beast could be. They waited out the guard, then feasted as soon as it left. Not that the guard would have had much luck against the beast, but the crown was loath to call in the DeadBloods unless it was absolutely necessary.

Having lost the sheriff of this region and all of his men had finally made it a necessity. Fools. They would not even admit that beasts existed, let alone that Dyn and he had been tasked to kill one. And now there was a pride of them.

A branch hit Tyr in the shoulder, nearly dismounting him. His focus must remain total upon the chase. He could not think of the past or the future. Only the present.

He glanced over to Dyn, whose concentration seemed to be on the path ahead, his mare equal to the task set out before her.

A scream pierced the air. A high-pitched scream. Ahead, a young boy ran out from the forest and into the old deer trail. He screamed again at the sight of Tyr bearing down on him.

Tyr dug his heels into Hunter’s side, but the horse was already vaulting over the young boy. Midair, Tyr realized their mistake. The beast was lying in wait just beyond the brush line. Hunter must have made the same realization, as he kicked outward with a hind leg.

The steel-covered hoof crashed into the beast’s skull, striking with a resounding clang. Unfortunately, the action tipped Tyr’s saddle and he tumbled to the ground.

Better him injured than the child. He would rather die ten times over than see the boy harmed.

Tyr landed on his shoulder and rolled, pulling his broad sword in a single sweeping motion. He pivoted on his heel to meet the beast before the creature was fully upon him. Claws swiped at him, but missed. Instead, Tyr struck at the beast’s haunches, cutting deep into the hip muscles.

Only then did he realize this was not the beast, but instead one of the young males in the pride. Dyn jerked a spear from his saddle and thrust it into the breastbone of the beast. It screamed in pain, then flopped over.

No more.

Beasts could die, you just had to make very, very certain they stayed that way.

Dyn pulled out the spear, then plunged it into the heart of the beast again. It arched up, crying out, then fell silent again.

Dyn turned to the young boy, who stood shaking at the other edge of the forest. “Run, boy.”

The child either didn’t hear him or didn’t wish to obey him. DeadBloods were considered lower than dung beetles in some areas.

“Run!” Tyr barked. “Tell your village to stay indoors until we say otherwise.”

The boy nodded vigorously, yet his feet did not move.

From the crackling of branches, Tyr knew that the other beasts were circling, preparing for an assault.

“Child. Go,” Dyn barked. “Unless, of course, you would like to see the teeth of the beast again.”

This got the child’s feet moving, and once they began, they did so quickly. The boy darted into the forest and Tyr quickly lost sight of him.

He whirled Hunter around to face the beasts. Eight red eyes flowed from the underbrush. Four beasts left.

Tyr glanced to the side to see Dyn pull out the gourd. The beasts did not flinch. Their primitive minds could not imagine what the apparent squash held. Dyn struck two flints expertly together to create a spark. That spark landed on the stem of the gourd, setting it alight.

Tyr knew that within that stem was a wick, drawing the fire to the inside of the gourd, preparing to set the explosives alight. Dyn cocked his hand back and threw the gourd into the forest. Tyr gathered his reins. Hunter was not going to like this one bit. One of the female beasts sniffed at the gourd, swatting it with her paw. The gourd rolled closer to another beast just before it exploded.

The flash of light blinded Tyr for a moment. Hunter reared, whinnying. Tyr patted the stallion on the neck, cooing to him, trying to get him to settle down, but that was difficult, as one beast screamed like an injured bunny, his entire mane on fire. He streaked through the forest, setting the dry tinder alight. Another beast cried out, then keeled over, his eyes a blackened ruin.

The female’s paw was gone. She sat on her haunches, tilting her head, looking at the blackened stump as if she couldn’t realize what had happened. Only the beast survived unmarred. He had been on the far side of the pride.

His eyes darted back and forth, then he turned tail and ran deep into the forest.

Finally having Hunter settled, Tyr pulled his bow and arrow and shot after the beast, but he was too cunning, ducking behind trees, making a clear shot impossible.

The burning beast changed course, heading straight for Tyr and Hunter.

“Hold,” Tyr barked an edict. He hated to influence Hunter in such a way, but he could not have the stallion moving. Tyr cocked back an arrow, then let it fly.

The first arrow struck the burning beast in the neck. It did not stop screaming or charging. Tyr prepared another arrow, this time aiming for the eye. The arrow struck true. The beast plowed into the dirt right in front of Hunter’s hooves.

Dyn was already dispatching the maimed female. Then he was back on his mare, charging into the brush after the beast.

None of these others mattered. They needed the full-maned beast—otherwise, they would simply be out here again at harvest time.

Tyr kicked Hunter. “Ya!”

This broke the hold edict and the horse surged forward, jumping over the body of the burned beast. The trees streaked by. The fire had caught and was spreading rapidly all around them.

Now they had another serious threat. A forest fire such as this after an unseasonably long and dry season could be as deadly as the beast.

The fire crackled and snapped, jumping from tree to tree, jumping overhead and spreading in front of them, as well as to the sides and behind them.

Hunter’s ears were pinned back against his head as an ember popped from a branch and fell to the ground before them, igniting the mossy ground. He jumped without instruction, sailing them above the flames.

They landed hard on the other side, but Hunter continued in a gallop.

Was that a flash of fur in front of them? A bushy tail, perhaps?

There he was! Tyr pulled out an arrow and notched it against the bow, releasing the reins. Hunter had his head. Tyr was about to fire the arrow when an explosion ten times that of the gourd shattered the forest. The sound threatened to crack Tyr’s skull in half.

Hunter dug in, stopping them. Skittish Hunter danced to the side as a wall of flame erupted in front of them.

Dyn, however, kicked his mare, forcing her through the veil of fire. It was not a forest fire ahead, but a magical flame. Tyr gathered the reins and urged Hunter forward. The horse, his survival instincts in full force, shied away from the red wall.

For the second time in barely as many minutes, Tyr issued another edict.

“Go!”

Hunter surged forward and they passed unscathed through the mystical flames. However, once inside, the air was hot, searing Tyr’s every breath. The air was a bright red. A snake slithered through the underbrush, right under Hunter’s feet. There was no edict that would stop a horse from rearing at the sight of a snake.

Tyr was thrown back, off of Hunter. He landed in the soft loam. He was not safe, however, as the beast stalked forward. Tyr could not get his sword around in time. Hunter was there, though, his silver hooves flashing in the red light. The beast growled, but withdrew a step.

Behind him a giant vortex opened. The air became burgundy as the magic pulled anything close through the center.

The beast flicked his tail and turned, leaping through the vortex. Tyr could not allow the beast to get away.

“No!” Dyn cried out, but it was too late. Tyr had leapt.

Once the red vortex had him, it did not feel like it wanted to let go.

The wind tugged at his clothes, nearly ripping them off. The sound was akin to the world being torn apart. Tyr tried to shut his eyes, but they refused to close as he tumbled through the great vortex. One moment he could make out the beast ahead of him, then the next his view was simply red. A hot, burning red.

Then a pop sounded and he was expelled from the bubble of burgundy.

He landed on his side, hard. His fingers felt the ground. Only it wasn’t ground. It was hard and scratchy. A loud sound erupted as an object skidded to a stop not inches away from Tyr.

“Hey!” a shout came from the metal contraption. “Buddy, get out of the street.”

Tyr was not sure what a street was, but he could see others walking on a raised path not far away. Apparently, that area was not a street. He hurried to his feet and stepped around the strange object and struck for the path. The man made an odd gesture with his fingers, then sped away.

How he did so Tyr did not know, since he did not see any horse or donkey beneath the metal.

Disoriented, Tyr blinked, not understanding the land he had been whisked away to. Nothing made sense. He could not smell a tree or hear the song of a bird. Nor could he see the beast. The creature could not have landed far away.

A man bumped into Tyr, but instead of being angry, the man smiled. “Lord of the Rings, right on, man.” Then the man walked on.

Tyr did not know the Rings’ Lord, but he supposed he should go and pay his respects to his castle. Inform the lord that a DeadBlood hunted on his lands.

All that Tyr did know with all the foreign din of sounds and bitter smells was that he had a beast to hunt.

HeartsBlood – The full-length novel that started it all!

CHAPTER 1

Lightning flashed across the San Franciscan skyline, crackling and dancing on the horizon. Light flooded through the ambulance bay doors into the emergency room. Once inside, the illumination struck its own path, bending around corners, filling every square inch of the triage area with a stark brilliance.

While everyone else might have been impressed with the bolt’s raw power or otherworldly glow, Dr. Salista Calon used that flash to place a nearly perfect suture across Mr. Kasza’s ragged wound.

“Nice, mija,” Maria intoned as she sponged the laceration’s edge.

Sal smiled at the head nurse’s compliment, especially since her friend had uttered it in Spanish to describe her affection. While Sal had a Welsh father to explain the green flecks in her otherwise brown eyes, the full-blooded Maria eschewed their shared Latina heritage and dyed her hair a blue-black normally reserved for Goth girls. Her punk-rock cut dared anyone to call her a Chica. The platinum-blonde bangs didn’t hurt, either.

“We don’t need no stinking plastic surgeon when we’ve got Salista, Warrior Doc!” Maria added.

Their rotund patient didn’t seem quite so amused. No matter the nurse’s opinion of her surgical skills, Mr. Kasza had very much wanted a plastic surgeon to close his cut. He’d said so at very high volumes for a very long time. However, the storm hadn’t heard, or at the least, hadn’t cared.

As thunder echoed not far off, rain hit the ambulance bay in sheets, obscuring the view. The world outside their dry sanctuary had become nothing more than a watercolor painting. While the City was used to its fair share of precipitation, this summer storm had taken everyone by surprise.

They’d had over four inches, and the forecast called for another three.

Mr. Kasza didn’t think that those woes should apply to him. He had continued under that delusion until the plastic surgeon called to say he’d ditched the waterlogged 101 without ever catching sight of the Golden Gate Bridge, so he turned back to his home in Marin. Even then, Maria had to scare the patient with impending sepsis or an unsightly scar to get him to allow Sal to sew the wound closed.

“You gonna finish, or what?” he wheezed.

Before Sal could answer, Maria snorted. “Oh, now you’re in a hurry. If we’d seen a little more of this attitude an hour ago, we’d be done.”

While some women had wing girls for club hopping, Sal had something far more important—a best friend who could run patient interference better than most linebackers.

Today, Sal was more grateful than usual. What should have been a slam dunk four-hour shift, the storm had dragged out into a grueling twelve-hour debacle.

The day had teed off with a seven-car pileup during the morning commute, then rolled into a cable car derailment down by Pier 39. That’s about the time the central air conditioning went out. Gradually, the ER’s smell of bitter antiseptic gave way to a rather rank odor.

Ready to go home, Sal really didn’t want to explain to Mr. Kasza that she had to wait for another lightning strike to provide enough illumination to finish stitching him up.

So, Sal sat poised, ready to take advantage of the storm’s next flash. As the seconds ticked by, though, and the fatigue of the day set in, she steadied her hand against the bed’s railing. The engagement ring on her finger glistened through her glove, surprising her—as it had all month.

Everyone kept telling her that she’d get used to it. But four weeks in, and it was still a strange sight. The diamond seemed tentatively perched on her finger—as if it was trying to decide whether it wanted to alight there or not.

“So, you getting back up on the horse, or what?”

“Maria!” Sal scolded her friend, but, in truth, she wasn’t at all surprised by her comment. Maria was way too perceptive for both their sakes.

“Richard’s picking me up for a date in a couple of minutes.”

“That’s not what I asked though, was it?”

As she studiously ignored her friend, the rain beat against the windows overhead, pattering out an almost amused beat, laughing along with Maria at Sal’s folly. Even in this dim light, she could see the nurse’s coy Cheshire cat smile.

“Mr. Kasza, I need you to hold your foot perfectly still,” Sal ordered, even though the patient hadn’t really moved. She just needed to get Maria off the subject of her and Richard.

Unfortunately, her friend wasn’t easily distracted. “So how long has it been, then? A couple of weeks?” When Sal didn’t answer, Maria gasped. “Oh my God! You guys haven’t hit it since the proposal?”

“I’m sure that Mr. Kasza, here, doesn’t want to hear about my love life.”

“Au contraire! This is exactly the type of stuff he pays good money to discuss in adult chat rooms, isn’t it?”

“Why, I… never…” His stammering confirmed Maria’s suspicion.

For weeks now, Sal been trying to find a way to bring the subject up to her friend. How did you admit to someone, especially Miss Free-Love Maria, that after Richard’s perfectly executed proposal, the fire hadn’t just died between them, but had been shoveled with ash and cemented over?

Sighing, Sal admitted, “No, he and I haven’t…”

“But you did it that night? After he asked you to marry him, right?” When Sal just squirmed, Maria gasped. “He slipped those fifteen carats onto your finger, and you didn’t put out?”

Sal could feel her cheeks heat up. Where was that damned lightning strike? “It’s only five carats and—”

“Only five carats? Chica, that’s worth more than I make in a year! Hell, if a guy just gave me the box that ring came in, I’d be on my knees.”

After Maria’s reaction, Sal wasn’t about to add that not only was the ring over five carats, but Richard had flown to the Crater of Diamonds State Park in Arkansas to be absolutely certain he wasn’t buying her a “blood diamond.”

Sal knew her fiancé had paid at least double the going price for such surety.

“So how’s ‘The Dick’ handling this booty-free engagement?”

It was no use, but Sal corrected her anyway. “Richard is very understand—”

“No man is that understanding. Am I right?” the nurse asked Mr. Kasza.

Clearly, their patient didn’t want any part of this conversation either.

“Is there some kind of time limit before infection sets in?” he asked.

“Dick’s gay,” Maria said, ignoring the patient. “He’s gotta be.”

Sal’s ears burned. Her friend had gone too far. “Maria, don’t even—”

“You should be happy! After all the complaining about how I don’t see the two of you as a couple? How you guys don’t click? Now I get it!”

Begging the storm to do something, anything, to stop Maria from telling her what she “got,” Sal stared down at the laceration.

“Come on,” her friend coaxed. “You’re terrified of real intimacy, and he doesn’t like girl parts. It’s a pitch-perfect match!”

Just as Sal went to stand up for her fiancé, lightning struck, blazing bright as a summer’s day. The darkened ER glowed with a surreal clarity.

No matter her irritation with Maria, Sal was ever the professional with her needle at the ready, only it wouldn’t move. Sal tried. She really tried to force the needle forward, but couldn’t.

The entire ER seemed suspended in time. Frazzled interns halted their “chicken without heads” dance. Instead, they stood like nervous statues.

Maria’s teasing halted, even though her lips curved into a perfect O.

The only things that appeared capable of movement were the hairs at the back of her neck. They bristled in a panic. Something was on the move as air brushed past her knee. With effort, she turned her gaze in that direction.

In the near-blinding flash of lightning, a figure lurked, wrapped in shadows that shouldn’t exist. The only clear feature she could make out was a pair of sapphire-blue eyes. Sal tried to focus, to see the face beyond the eyes, but her mind refused to obey.

Then, something glinted.

A knife. Raised above her best friend’s head.

CHAPTER 2

Sal tried to yell. She tried to push Maria out of harm’s way, but found herself bound to her seat.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The claps of thunder hit the doors, rattling the glass against their frames. Charts fell off desks. Vials of antibiotics shattered. Then, as suddenly as it had come, the lightning played itself out, and the ER plunged into darkness.

Finally, Sal’s pent-up energy found a release.

“Ouch!” Kazsa screamed as she drove the needle into his tender flesh.

“Maria, move!” Sal yelled, rising and tipping her stool over. The metal chair clanged across the room as she bolted toward her friend.

“Is this an earthquake?” Kasza wheezed.

Maria apparently thought so as she scrambled out from under a bank of monitors above her head. Once they didn’t come crashing down, Maria breathed a sigh of relief.

“It’s okay. It wasn’t the Big One. We’re good.”

But it wasn’t good. Not good at all. Although Sal’s fear wasn’t fueled by a seismic event, the terror felt just as big and even more pressing. A threat more personal than tectonic plates chafing against one another.

Sal flicked on her penlight and swept the area in a panicked search. The thin beam jiggled as her hand shook, the silhouette of the knife still sharp in her mind.

“Didn’t you see him?”

“See who?” Maria asked.

Sal didn’t have time to answer. She was too busy checking behind the bed and between the oxygen tanks. In the cluttered ER, there were so many places the attacker could hide. He could be anywhere.

“Isn’t anybody paying attention? That hurt!” Kasza grunted, trying to lean over his bleeding foot. But he couldn’t fold himself that tightly.

With precision, Maria swiped the blood away from the wayward needle prick as if it had never been there. “Yeah, why don’t you remind us what landed you here in the first place?”

Sal barely noticed Kasza’s cheeks become ruddy with embarrassment as she jerked back the curtain of the next bed to find the gurney empty, just as it should be. Everything appeared exactly as it should be, yet the hairs on the back of her neck refused to relax.

“How could you not have seen him? He was standing right behind you. Over you. With a knife.”

Maria didn’t take the news the way that Sal meant it. “Was he hot?”

“No,” Sal snapped. Could eyes really be that blue? “Well, maybe.”

Kasza propped himself up on one elbow. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but I want—”

While Sal flashed her penlight under the EKG machine, futilely searching for the attacker, Maria snorted at Kasza. “Dude, while you were trying to cut your animal-style Double-Double burger in half, you dropped the knife and sliced your pudgy-ass ankle… I’m sorry, ‘cankle.’ So why don’t you spend your time reassessing both your In-N-Out eating habits and your knife-handling skills while we straighten this out?”

“I didn’t come to the ER for a life coach,” Kasza grumbled, but lay back in the bed.

Maria helped Sal move a bulky telemetry unit from the wall. Relief that her best friend had finally taken her concern seriously evaporated as Maria nudged her. “Well, was he hot or not?”

Sal loved the nurse beyond social norms, but right now Maria’s playful attitude grated on her frayed nerves. But instead of snapping, Sal just sighed. If she didn’t accurately describe the guy, Maria would never let it go.

“Look, he was tall…” That she knew for certain, yet it had taken an incredible effort to dredge even that much up. It was ridiculous. If she couldn’t remember him now, how would she describe him to the police?

“And?” Maria prompted.

Sal squinted, straining to reshape the memory. “Wide shoulders. And boots. Leather boots.”

“Dude! That guy can almost stab me anytime.”

Ignoring her friend, Sal tried to cobble those fragmented images into a whole person, but the picture wouldn’t coalesce. No matter how hard she tried, the details stayed fuzzy, incomplete.

“Um, can I get someone with more experience to finish?” Startled, Sal swung her penlight around, causing Kasza to shield his eyes. “Yeah, I’m definitely going to want a second opinion.”

In her panic, Sal had forgotten she had a patient.

As confusion replaced terror, she went to sit down, but found her stool overturned a good ten feet away. How had it gotten way over there?

“Seriously,” Kasza said, “I don’t want her anywhere near—”

Luckily, Maria cut the patient off. “Don’t bother looking on your bill for this advice, because it’s free. Any refresher course will cost you, though.”

As the nurse stared down their upset patient, Sal righted her stool and sank down onto the cushion, shaking her head. She came from Welsh and Mexican stock. She should be hardier than this.

Maria continued full speed ahead. “First. Half of an animal-style Double-Double is still a Mr. Big and Tall warehouse full of calories and cholesterol. If you want to give your heart and us a break, take up water aquatics and salads.” Her friend took in a huge breath. “Second. She’s the best you got. The only attending physician who could make it in today is up in the ICU treating actual patients. So butch up.”

Sal couldn’t help but sense that Maria was talking to her as much as to the patient. However, she couldn’t shake this sense of imminent threat. Of what, Sal wasn’t quite sure. Her skin felt cold and clammy, as if she’d just awakened from a nightmare. Her body prepared for mortal danger, but the images that elicited such panic were beyond her grasp. The harder she tried to hold onto the memory of that single terrifying moment, the more slippery it became, like an eel slithering out of her grasp.

“Are we ready to begin, Dr. Calon?” Maria asked.

Sal couldn’t help but grin. Her friend had invoked the code. Whenever one of them wandered off topic, it snapped them back to professional mode.

“Why yes, Nurse Roder, I am.”

Maybe she hadn’t seen anyone at all.

Feeling almost normal again, Sal shook off her anxiety. She’d gotten so worked up, and for what? Just a trick of the light played upon eyes weary from working so many hours in the dim ER.

Confidently, Sal patted the patient’s leg. “Don’t worry. You’re in good hands. Two more stitches, and we’ll be done.”

Sal flicked her wrist, about to drive the needle in, when the ambulance bay doors burst open. Steel gurney wheels clattered against the tile floor at breakneck speed.

“Ouch!” Kasza squealed as Sal missed her mark yet again.

“Frank, we’re closed for traumas!” Maria yelled to the EMT.

“Tell that to this guy!” he shouted back, as he and his partner pushed the patient full tilt toward Trauma One. “He’s lost at least three liters!”

“He’s here!” the frail man yelled, thrashing against his restraints.

Sal felt herself stiffen at the hysterical man’s words. They rang of truth, although she was hard-pressed to say why. The guy sounded like every other tweaked-out meth addict they’d seen.

The man’s eyes rolled back in his head. “He comes for us all!”

CHAPTER 3

Sal stood motionless as the gurney hung a sharp right and skidded around the corner toward Trauma One. She should be running after it. Or she should be sewing up Mr. Kasza. Yet, she did neither.

When she didn’t react, Maria shouted to the closest intern, “Clipsham! Finish sewing this guy up.” The nurse turned to Sal. “Come on!”

Sal had to be shoved forward, but once her feet were moving, the adrenaline served as a tonic, flushing from her bloodstream whatever irrational fears her mind had conjured.

She summoned a smile when Maria said, “Man, now I’ve got a craving for In-N-Out. We should get it for dinner.”

As they caught up to the gurney, Sal shook her head. “Sorry. I’ve got my big date tonight, remember?”

“Well, if it’s not as ‘big’ as you recollect, you can always swing back by here. Or maybe we’ll do Fatburger. They’ve got bacon and that fried-egg thing to go on the cheeseburger.”

“Give me the cholesterol count on that one.” Buoyed by their shared enjoyment of Maria’s hypocrisy, Sal felt the terror-filled memory snap loose and sink from her consciousness.

They reached the gurney as it burst through Trauma One’s swinging doors. “Whatcha got, Frank?”

“Somebody sliced and diced this guy, bad. Head to toe.”

The sight of the injured man snuffed out any lingering cheer. Even in the flickering penlight, copious amounts of blood stood out starkly red against the man’s T-shirt. It lent the ER’s stagnant air a tang of iron. They could taste the man’s blood loss with every breath.

“Run, before he gets you!” the man screamed, his pasty lips pulled back into a snarl.

“I’m hanging four units off the top, unless anyone’s got a problem with that,” Maria more announced than asked as she squeezed past them to the cold storage.

Given that her friend could run a code better than most interns, Sal only added, “Let’s order a blue plate special to go with that blood.”

Paul, their slightly effeminate—yet highly efficient—trauma nurse, organized the stream of other nurses, interns, and med students that followed the wounded addict like hyenas to a kill.

Examining a profusely bleeding wrist wound, Sal was surprised to find the cut so superficial. It barely rated paper cut status. Somehow, though, it had cut down to the artery. If she’d been shown the wound without the volumes of blood, Sal would have bet a month’s salary that the tiny nick would heal without even a scar.

And there wasn’t just one such injury. There were nearly a dozen thin-edged wounds that cut into the worst possible blood vessels. One transected the jugular, and another, the cubital artery, with more scattered over the body. Nobody hit this many major vessels by chance.

“Somebody really wanted to bleed this guy dry,” Paul commented, voicing Sal’s concern.

“Hey, maybe your mystery man is a vamp!” Maria said with a wink.

Frank snorted. “A really wasteful one.”

The EMT was right about that. Blood saturated the man’s clothes.

“Maria, does the pattern remind you of anything?” Paul asked.

“These are our last two bags of O negative.” Maria finished hooking up the pint of blood to the rapid infuser before she answered. “Damn, but it does. Those boring-ass slides from ‘history of phlebotomy’ class.”

“Want to fill the resident in?” Sal prompted.

Paul nodded toward the wounds. “These cuts are placed in exactly the same pattern that medieval physicians used to blood-let.”

Maria nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, yeah. Something about how the cuts represented the five alchemistical axes,” Maria added. “Or Hogwarts’ lines or—”

“Got it,” Sal said before Paul could go into a rampage over Harry Potter getting more press than Tolkien. “Do we have a central line in yet?”

One of the interns who Sal didn’t yet know by name shook his head.

“His pressure is for crap. He’s never going to survive this much blood loss.”

True, what poured out of the victim’s veins was now more Lactated Ringers than blood. That didn’t mean they couldn’t turn the tide, though. This wasn’t the Dark Ages. They had more than poultices and potions to counter this man’s mortal wounds.

“Maria?”

“On it,” the nurse said as she nudged the intern out of the way.

“But I was—”

“Giving up on him,” Sal said, catching the younger doctor’s gaze. “I don’t care how bad he looks. I don’t care what his vitals are. As long as the patient has a heartbeat, we work our asses off. Understood?”

“Yes. Of course. Can I try again, then?”

“No,” Sal and Maria said in unison. Normally they were all about the instructing. Working at a teaching hospital, Sal felt it was important to instill in her students a respect for the nature of disease. Medicine was not a panacea, but a mechanism to help the body’s own healing potential.

But with this much blood loss? They didn’t have a moment’s leeway.

They needed the A team on this one, and way more O-negative blood.

Sal instructed the intern, “Go downstairs and get another six units.”

The guy just stood there, flustered.

“Down in the basement. The blood bank. Go!” Paul barked.

Finally, the intern’s feet worked, and he rushed toward the stairwell.

“I’m in!” Maria announced as she pulled the central line’s guide wire out so fast that it whistled past her ear. “Let’s hook up that second bag.”

The patient grabbed Sal’s wrist. “He’s here!”

Whether it was the man’s chilling tone or the movement along her peripheral vision, gooseflesh raised along Sal’s collar. Instinct snapped her head to the right. Just outside the trauma bay’s door, the edge of a coat disappeared around the corner.

A leather coat.

CHAPTER 4

At the sight of that damned coat, Sal’s memories flooded back. Still, they were more a jumble of images than a coherent picture.

Sal turned to Maria. “Did you see him that time?”

“Hell, yes! That was a Grade-A piece of ass.”

Maria’s sarcastic tone rang false. There was nothing lighthearted or trivial in Sal’s recollection of this man. Dread constricted her stomach.

Sal called to an orderly walking past the trauma room, “Get security!”

“Why?” Maria asked. “So they can charge him with illegal hotness?”

“Hey,” Frank exclaimed. “That’s what you used to say about me.”

“That’s when you still fit the description,” the nurse teased.

Sal couldn’t take their banter. “Could we please stay focused?”

“Um, no matter what it sounds like,” Maria said as she indicated the dressing that she tightened. “We’re doing our jobs, Sal.”

Of course they were. Frank applied pressure to an inguinal wound while helping Paul place a Foley catheter. Sal knew that the staff’s levity didn’t affect their efficiency at all. Anyone who thought Maria couldn’t joke and do her job well at the same time didn’t know the punk-haired nurse.

“That’s not what I meant,” Sal said.

Frank raised a questioning eyebrow. “If you weren’t busting our chops about patient care, then why the dig?”

“I… I’m…” Sal struggled to bring her previous concern into focus.

Something had weighed heavily on her heart. She could feel the pressure on her chest, making it hard for her to breathe. Yet for the life of her, she couldn’t remember what had made her feel so agitated.

Her best friend hooked up EKG leads as she grinned. “I think somebody’s getting the precoital jitters.”

“Maria…” Sal warned.

Her friend just shrugged her shoulders, feigning innocence.

As the patient’s pressures slumped, Sal had to get her head back into the game. “Do we have a current hematocrit?”

“Twelve percent, with total solids of three point zero,” Paul answered.

“Damn it, we’re going to have to add Hetastarch to the fluids.”

A skittish med student asked, “Hetastarch? That doesn’t make any sense. He’s losing blood, not fluid.”

Even though her nerves were still jangled, Sal steadied her voice.

Traumas, especially ones this severe, could easily overwhelm the greener students. No matter her own trepidation, it was her job to pull it together.

“We have to think of blood in three components—the red cells themselves, the water they swim in, and the protein that surrounds them. Without this protein to hold the fluid close, the water would leave the veins and flood the lungs and brain,” she said.

Sal placed a pressure wrap over the man’s shoulder as her eyes flickered over to make sure that the intern kept up.

“With sharp trauma blood loss, he is losing all three. We are replacing the red cells and the fluid rapidly enough, but not the protein, which is far harder to restore. The Hetastarch acts as an artificial molecule to hold the water for us until we can replace the protein itself.”

“Oh, that does make sense,” the student answered, much calmer.

Sal was about to expound on the principles of hydrostasis when an orderly popped his head into the room. “Security is coming down, but they’ve got some whack job cornered in the cafeteria. It could be a while.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sal answered tentatively as the orderly hurried along.

Maria scoffed. “Doesn’t he think we’ve got things under control?”

“I’ve already got him in soft restraints,” Frank stated. “Why would we need security?”

They both looked at her, but Sal had no idea why the orderly thought she had asked for a guard.

“Maybe he’s having some jitters himself,” her friend suggested.

Suddenly the addict grabbed Sal’s arm. “Don’t let him take me.”

“Sir, please. Just lie back down—”

The man’s eyes flared with mania. “Promise me!”

Sal squeezed the addict’s hand, trying to keep her own from shaking in panic. “I won’t let anyone take you. Promise.”

As the man flatlined, Sal feared that she couldn’t fulfill her pledge.

CHAPTER 5

Without a word, everyone changed gears into crash mode. Frank compressed the man’s chest while Maria tore open the intubation tray.

As Sal gloved up, the intern rushed back in. “The blood bank said they don’t have enough type O to spare.”

“That’s just bullshit,” Maria retorted as she got the tube ready for Sal.

“Tell them to stop hoarding it for freaking surgery.”

“You’ll have to wait for the cross-match for type-specific blood,” the intern stated.

“Does he look like he can wait?” Maria asked.

As the intern glanced down at the bloody, flatlined patient, he blanched an unnatural white. “I… They won’t… I mean…”

“Oh, seriously, grow a pair before you graduate!” Maria snarled, and then turned to Sal. “Chica, can you spare me?”

Sal opened her laryngoscope. “Just make sure it gets done, stat.”

“Stat, my ass. How about right fucking now?”

“That sounds just about perfect.”

As Maria exited, she bumped into someone entering. “Hey, look who’s here. Dr. Uptight.”

“Updike,” Sal and her fiancé corrected in stereo.

“And next you’re going to tell me that he’s not a Dick.” Maria had to have the last word as she trotted down the hallway.

“Sorry,” Sal murmured. But seriously, what were his parents thinking? Naming their son Richard Updike? Did they want him to get beaten up his entire adolescence?

Richard nodded knowingly. “She’s just using sarcasm to create a false sense of intimacy, since she can’t achieve it in her personal life.”

Which was probably true, but it didn’t make her friend any less funny.

“You know what Maria says?”

Her fiancé frowned. “Blood happens.”

Somehow, with Richard’s delivery, the line lost its humor. Or maybe it was the addict she couldn’t get tubed because his throat had swelled shut.

“Paul, can you give me a little articular pressure?” Sal asked.

“Yeah, sure,” the nurse answered.

With Paul’s assistance, Sal passed the tube smoothly into the patient’s trachea. “Let’s bag him at twenty.”

Quickly, she handed out another half-dozen orders. However, the urgency to her tone had died, along with her patient. Certainly, Sal would perform her due diligence. They’d run through three epinephrine rounds and shock up to three-sixty. Beyond that, she wouldn’t pursue any more heroic measures, such as cracking his chest open. That would no longer be treating the patient, but rather her ego. After a severe anemic event like this, once the heart gave out, the brain had no hope. Even if somehow you coaxed the pump to beat again, the mind was gone, never to return. What was the point?

If the man had any family, Sal would have them make their peace now. To her, the patient’s soul had already left. Whatever horrible, pain-filled life this man had was now past.

Eyes flickering over the dozen monitors and the myriad of tubing, her fiancé gave a resigned sigh. “Just give the word, and we can reschedule.”

“No,” Sal blurted.

This awkward limbo between them had dragged on long enough. She’d screwed up the courage to talk to Richard tonight, to talk about this huge, stinky, dead elephant in their relationship. It would be too easy to let their schedules get in the way of their lives.

“I’m just waiting for another R-3 to hit the floor, then I’m off.”

“What do you mean?” Richard asked, indicating the dim reception desk through the trauma bay window. “Stacy’s here.”

Sal looked across to find the leggy blonde leaning over the nurse’s desk at just the right angle to accentuate her butt. If they’d stayed together, Richard and Stacy could have made the most perfect Aryan babies ever.

She turned to the pale med student. “Get her.”

The young man didn’t seem to hear. Rooted in place, the student stood enthralled by the medical spectacle before him.

Snapping her fingers Maria-style, Sal got his attention. “Tell Dr. Manning to get her buns of steel in here.”

Her tone not only pulled the student out of his stupor, but caused him to turn and literally run out of the room.

“Sal, there’s no reason to misdirect your frustration onto your co-workers. I’m sure Stacy doesn’t realize how serious this patient’s condition is.”

“Please,” Sal chided her fiancé as she checked one of the EKG leads to make sure they weren’t missing a faint heartbeat. “Not only does she know the full extent of this man’s injuries, but she’s purposefully delaying coming in here so she that doesn’t have to sign a death certificate.”

“Clear!” Paul called out before he defibrillated the patient.

The flatline didn’t budge.

“Even if you were right to assign her motive, it doesn’t look like she could avoid signing one tonight,” Richard commented.

“Maybe they’ll frame it,” Sal muttered.

Richard gave her that disapproving frown.

“Okay, that sounded bitter even to me,” she admitted.

They shared a quiet smile. Could it be that they had just taken the first tiny step in repairing their relationship?

Then Dr. Manning walked in.

CHAPTER 6

“Hogging all the good cases for yourself again, Calon?” Stacy asked, with a mixture of syrupy sweetness and calculated recrimination.

Sal gritted her teeth, refusing to allow her bitterness to rear its ugly head in front of Richard again. This was how Manning worked, somehow always positioning herself as the victim. Worse, her blatant manipulations had made her the favored resident for the attending job next year.

Sighing, Sal tried to imagine what her fiancé would advise in a situation like this. He’d probably recommend that she not allow Manning’s ploy to affect her, to allow Stacy’s words to roll off her back like water rolled off a duck’s. Unfortunately, Richard didn’t seem to understand that it was hard to ignore corrosive, acid rain on your back, but she gave it her best shot.

“We’re close to replacing his blood loss at the scene, but we’ve had significant subsequent loss…” Sal looked around. “Maria’s not back yet?”

Heads shook all around her. That was weird. Her friend could usually pry the Holy Grail from the pope with a well-timed wink and smile.

“Have you run a PTT yet?” Manning asked as she very ceremoniously donned a full gown and double gloves. The starry-eyed intern attending her seemed naïve enough to think that the results of a blood coagulation test could somehow change the course of this poor addict’s fate. He was dead. They just needed a signature to make it official.

“No, but have at it,” Sal answered as she tried to snap her gloves off.

Sal had meant it to be a theatrical gesture to equal Stacy’s gowning spectacle, but her ring got caught, forcing her to awkwardly untangle it. Finally, the glove ripped loudly, turning everyone’s attention to her.

Manning smirked. “Maybe you should leave that big rock at home if you don’t know how to use it.”

A snicker came from behind. Probably from someone who didn’t realize that Stacy coveted the very ring that she mocked. Manning didn’t miss a beat as she held court. “Can anyone tell me the date of the Helsinki experiments that determined cardiac preload statistics of Hetastarch versus Dextran?”

“See everyone on Tuesday,” Sal said, but she was already forgotten by interns and students alike as they vied to answer Manning.

Then to brighten Sal’s hope for humanity, Paul made the motion as if he were hanging himself. The staff hated these long-drawn-out, flog ‘em codes. Unfortunately, they weren’t on the attending selection committee.

Sighing, Sal joined Richard out in the hallway. Surprisingly, he kissed her on the forehead. It was the most romantic contact they’d had in weeks.

“I know you’re exhausted, but I’m proud of you. It took a lot of courage to ignore Stacy’s bait.”

Glancing up at her fiancé, Sal realized that he must have come straight from his evening swim at the club. The stretch of his London Fog coat showed off his frame, sculpted by hundreds of laps. It almost made her feel guilty about never exercising. His sandy blond hair was slicked back, except for a single lock that curled on his forehead. He always said it looked childish, but Sal felt it gave him a rakish charm.

Between the diamond on her finger, his caring nature, and that ripped body of his, Sal had to consider that maybe there was more to Maria’s accusation than she wanted to admit. Who wouldn’t want to marry Richard?

After her previous tumultuous relationships, with their loud, screaming fights, Sal would have thought that she’d appreciate the fact that she and her fiancé never fought. Actually, Richard’s insistence that they “talk” through their issues felt not only foreign, but torturous. They usually ended up with her fiancé explaining how Sal’s need to feed her ego through work validation impacted his sense of masculine empowerment.

Maybe that was their problem. Never any makeup sex. Deepening intimate communication skills seldom left you hot and sweaty.

Taking his hand, Sal resolved to change all that. And she might have gotten a start if the med student hadn’t stuck his head out the door.

“Dr. Manning’s asking where the blood is.”

Damn it. What was taking Maria so long? Had the head nurse suddenly lost her mojo? Sal glanced around the dim ER and found an intern heading her way. “Clipsham, could you go down to the blood bank?”

His cheeks blotched as he stammered, “Sorry. I’ve got to get Manning.”

“You can get the blood first.”

He shook his head almost violently. “You don’t understand. That patient is throwing a tantrum. He’s going to sue me!”

“You’re going to hear that ten times a shift around here.”

“I’m calling my lawyer!” Kasza shouted loud enough to be heard all the way across the ER.

Sal looked over her shoulder. Stacy had stepped to the back of the trauma bay, glowering like a master puppeteer controlling her marionettes. So in control. So cool. So aloof. Then Sal glanced at the irate patient.

“Yeah, you go get Manning,” Sal encouraged. “I’ll get the blood.”

The intern looked relieved, clearly unaware that not only did Stacy hate her dog-and-pony show interruptions, but absolutely despised whiny, difficult patients. If he thought Kasza could throw a tantrum, just wait.

Feeling more satisfied than she should, Sal turned to Richard. “I’ll be right back.”

“Sal…”

She squeezed his hand. “It’ll be a hell of a lot quicker to help Maria at the blood bank than to talk that patient down.”

They looked over at Kasza, who yelled into his cell phone. Oh yeah, tonight was going to be quite the show.

CHAPTER 7

Trotting down the darkened steps, Sal had to admit that she had an ulterior motive for fetching Maria. Only her best friend could truly commiserate over Stacy’s antics. After having the required conniption fit, Maria would utter some wicked comeback that Sal could use later.

Okay, maybe she had a second motivation. A part of her felt that the thing to reignite her and Richard’s love life was to try something daring, such as the Latvian Splits that Maria kept carrying on about.

Jerking open the door to the basement level, Sal stopped. A thick black greeted her. Even the battery-powered emergency lights had given out. And if they were down, what about the blood bank’s power supply? Maybe that’s what delayed Maria.

Getting out her trusty penlight, Sal swept the hall with the thin beam. The action had started casually, then a snake of fear slithered up her back, hearkening her mind back to the emergency room. The flash of light. The glint of steel. Even though she couldn’t remember what had actually happened, the fragmented images brought a chill to the otherwise humid air.

The basement’s damp, dark ambience almost made her head upstairs to obtain a bigger flashlight and an even bigger security guard. Then Sal laughed. When did she become such a scaredy-cat? Her father, rest his soul, would be ashamed to have his daughter act so timid. She came from hardier stock than that.

Striding with much more confidence, Sal made a fast left. One last corridor, and she’d be at the blood bank. No big deal. Then her penlight gave out. Startled, she dropped it, then jumped when it shattered across the floor. Reaching a hand out, she found the wall and steadied herself. As her breath wheezed loudly, Sal chastised herself.

What could have thrown her off her game so badly? She normally liked the dark. It was soothing. Calm. Safe. Now, though, it held nothing but foreboding. Up ahead, Sal could see the faint pool of light coming from the blood bank’s doorway. Just get down there, already!

Hand against the wall, as if it could offer some emotional support, Sal made her way down the hall. Suddenly, a man burst out of the blood bank.

Not any man, but the man.

Taller than even Richard, wide shoulders, and an impossibly square jawline.

How could she forget those flint-blue eyes?

Here, her “trick of the light” stood in the flesh.

A knife in hand.

CHAPTER 8

“Maria!” Sal yelled, remembering it all. How could she have forgotten that this man had nearly killed her friend?

“Leave,” he growled.

Despite her body wanting to do exactly the opposite, Sal found her feet turning back toward the stairwell. While she tried to rationalize that it was her desire to get to security, Sal knew that it was his word, his commanding tone, that forced her feet to move. Nothing else mattered but following his edict.

In obeying, Sal’s path brought her past the blood bank’s door. She caught the sight of red. Her feet stopped.

“No!”

Before her lay a bloodbath. Literally. Two inches of the sticky fluid covered the floor. The blood bags had been ripped to shreds, their contents spilled. And a single body lay in the middle, slashed open, like a wild animal kill. White innards spilled across the crimson sea.

Sal stood stunned, then caught sight of a blonde streak. Blonde bangs against blue-black shorn hair.

Maria!

Her best friend’s eyes were open, glazed over with death. A wrenching nausea threatened to topple Sal, and then his hand was on her shoulder.

His hand. The man who had done this. The man who’d killed Maria.

Her feet took over, reeling her backwards, propelling her away. She had seen a phone. It was halfway to the stairs. Running, Sal found the phone and jerked it from its hook. “Security!”

But it was dead. Not even a dial tone. She dropped the hand piece and went to run for the stairwell, but a strong hand caught her jacket.

Sal tried to scream, but his hand grabbed her throat, choking her, picking her up off her feet and slamming her back against the wall.

He brought his face so near that stubble raked her cheek. “Hold.”

As much as Sal wanted to squirm from his grasp, she could not. The man lowered her to the ground, and then ever so slightly released the pressure against her trachea. She took in a harsh breath, then coughed.

His grip cut off her windpipe again. “You draw him!”

From under his coat, he drew his knife, the same blade she had seen earlier. The thin steel glistened at its impossibly sharp tip. Sal flailed as the light from the blood bank suddenly extinguished, leaving only inky black.

This was it. She was going to die like Maria.

Here, alone in the dark.

CHAPTER 9

Was it lack of oxygen, or was there really a red glow emanating from the blood bank? Had the emergency lighting kicked in? Was there hope?

Then a low growl rumbled from the room. Deep. Bestial.

It echoed in her bone marrow. The only time she had ever heard such a terrifying sound had been when her family had gone to see feeding day at the zoo. Except the big cats’ meals had been delayed, and over a dozen angry lions rattled the bars until they shook dust from their moorings.

Sal hadn’t been back to the zoo since.

A snarl made every hair on her body stand on end, responding to a prehistoric cue. The same panic filled her chest that had filled a Neanderthal’s heart thirty-five thousand years ago. Adrenaline demanded that she fight, or give flight. Death was on the prowl.

“Are you afraid?” he whispered as he showed her his knife.

The red light pulsed steadily, like a heartbeat, and the sound from the beast’s maw filled the narrow hallway.

Sal squeaked, “Terrified.”

“May I?” The man reached out.

The world no longer made sense. Had this man really killed Maria?

And if he had, why not just kill her as well?

If he wanted Sal dead, she would be dead, a dozen different ways.

While she had no idea who this hulking man was, the fear she felt for him paled in comparison to that throaty growl emanating from around the corner. There was an evil that could have torn her friend to pieces. Now his sharp knife no longer seemed all that scary, instead Sal viewed it as an asset. It was the only weapon that stood between them, and… well, whatever was coming around the corner.

The only thing she knew—their attacker wasn’t human.

If she had to choose between it and him…

Risking to trust him in this small way, Sal placed her hand in his, but he betrayed it. In a blinding flash, the man used his knife to slice her wrist.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed.

A guff came from deep within the red glow. Paws padding through Maria’s blood made a sickening sucking sound. Sensing a meal in the making, it came. Her blood drew it.

Panicked, she looked at the man. Why had he done such a thing? Did he, in fact, mean her harm? Was he going to throw her to that creature? But the man concentrated on dripping her blood upon his blade.

To her amazement, with each drop, the steel glowed more brightly. When the length of the metal glistened white, the man raised it in defiance.

“Smell her fear, beast. Know that my blade is rich with it,” he growled, almost as feral as the creature. “Come—if you dare!”

A roar burst forth, shaking the walls as it exploded into a full charge.

The man shoved her behind him. “Run!”

She didn’t need his urging as she took flight down the hallway. Red permeated the air. An inhuman scream echoed off the walls as she heard the clash of steel, but still she ran, turning the corner of the hallway, sprinting for the stairwell door—only to find it locked.

“No!” Sal pounded on the door as the fierce battle inched closer.

The dark landing soon glowed an angry red. The man stumbled into view, his once-pristine coat slashed and bloodied in the fight. How could he fight so valiantly to protect her, but still cut her so? When she looked down at her wrist, the cut had already healed. A thin, pink mark was all that was left of the gash.

Ever since the hallway had turned burgundy, nothing made sense. How could this stranger in leather be defending her from some creature?

In a sweeping motion, the man raised the knife high above his head.

The steel that had turned pure white was now tainted black with dark blood.

Arcing it downward at the creature, he yelled, “Enough!”

As the blade met its mark, an explosion rang out.

Thrown backward, Sal’s head slammed against the door.

The world turned red, and then black.

CHAPTER 10

Confused, Sal squinted under the bright lights. A maelstrom of activity swirled. The loud clang of instrument trays and shouts of vital signs buzzed in her ears. Sal would know those sounds anywhere. She was in Trauma One. Only this time, she wasn’t the doctor. She was the patient.

“She’s coming around!”

As Sal awoke, the panic did as well. A growling rumbled at the base of her skull as Sal struggled to rise. She had to run away, and run fast.

“Babe, hold still, they’re trying to get your blood pressure.”

She swung around to face the man holding her, but it was only Richard. Who else did she think it could be? Despite her mind knowing that she sat on a gurney in Trauma One, her heart pounded as if it were still in that lethal hallway.

“You’re safe, honey,” her fiancé reassured her.

Then why didn’t she feel it? Dread filled her heart, and her muscles ached to be used, but there was nowhere to run.

“How did I get here?” she asked.

Paul tightened the blood pressure cuff as he answered. “I went down to check on the blood…”

Sal tried to meet his gaze, but the light was too harsh for eyes grown accustomed to pitch-black. When had they gotten the lights back on? How long had she been out?

“Dr. Calon, did you see anyone down there?” a female voice asked.

“Detective, can’t this wait?” Richard demanded.

“It’s best when it’s fresh in her mind,” she said.

At first, Sal’s throat wouldn’t respond. After clearing her throat, she found she still couldn’t speak. Not because of any ailment, but because she couldn’t remember what happened. No matter how hard she tried, the memories eluded her—settling in her mind only as fragments.

“There was a red light. A growling…”

Although everyone else seemed skeptical, Paul nodded in agreement.

“Maintenance was down there getting the old steam generator online. In the dark, that probably sounded pretty damn scary.”

That couldn’t be it, could it? The harder Sal thought, the less she knew. Could all the terror she felt have just been maintenance workers?

“Richard, you’ve got to keep her arm out,” Stacy demanded as she flicked a penlight in Sal’s eyes.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, but Manning still fussed.

Paul expertly nudged Stacy out of the way, then gave Sal a reassuring smile, only the expression was tainted by sadness. Why was Paul sad?

“Maria!” she shouted. “Oh God, she’s—”

Richard gripped her against his chest. “We know, Sal. We know. There was nothing you could do.”

But there had to have been something she could have done. Someone else had been there. Hadn’t he? If she closed her eyes, Sal could smell his musk, or was that her own fear?

Richard cradled her face in his hands. “Do you remember something?”

Her fingers found the skin on her neck. It was still sore, but not bruised.

She could feel her lungs struggle to breathe, but her trachea had been pinched off. How could that have happened?

The detective couldn’t hide her impatience. “Maybe you can walk me through what happened. We know you made it to the blood bank, since you had blood on the bottom of your sneakers. Why don’t you start there?”

Sal doubled over, nearly heaving. The blood that the detective referred to was Maria’s. She’d stepped in her best friend’s blood.

Richard kept his arm around her, but stood to his full height. “That will be enough. You don’t actually suspect her of this crime?”

The detective had to shake her head.

“Clearly, then,” her fiancé explained, “if she remembered anything of value regarding her best friend’s murder, she would tell you.” He raised his voice another octave to quiet the detective. “The harder you force her to relive the traumatic events, the deeper you will drive her away from the very memories you need.”

“She’s a material witness. I can hold her until—”

Sal stiffened. She didn’t want to stay here. Didn’t want to be questioned anymore. She just wanted to crawl in a hole and sleep until this could all become just a vague nightmare.

Richard flipped his cell phone open and hit a speed dial number. He waited patiently while it rang.

The detective’s frown was back. “Who are you calling?”

“Your Chief of D’s,” he said casually. “I’ve been treating his daughter for PTSD. You might have read about it in the papers.”

“Who hasn’t?” Paul snorted, freeing Sal from the blood pressure cuff.

The girl they referred to had been assaulted in Golden Gate Park, and even though she wasn’t that physically injured, the college student had descended into a near-catatonic state. After three other psychiatrists had failed, Richard coaxed her back into true consciousness. Then, to prove his reputation had been earned, he helped the girl remember and identify her attackers. After they had been convicted, her father had given Richard a commendation from the department.

“Fine,” the detective admitted. “But I need her down at the station first thing tomorrow morning to make a statement.”

Richard snapped his phone closed. “I’ll drive her there myself.”

As the detective left, Manning tried to maneuver her fiancé out of the way. “You might have spoken too soon, Richard. I’m not sure if I’ll be releasing her any time tonight.”

“I’m taking her home,” Richard stated. “Now.”

“But I’m still waiting on blood work and…” Stacy stammered.

“We both know her CT was clean. So just call me with the lab results, and I’ll monitor her mental status at home.”

“But—”

“Get the paperwork ready, Stacy,” he said with a finality that shut even Manning up.

Without a stethoscope constantly around his neck, it was easy to forget that not only had Richard gone to medical school, but he was a senior clinician, outranking everyone in the room.

Sal had never been so grateful to Richard as when he draped his coat over her shoulders and escorted her out of the trauma bay. The lights were too bright. The noise too loud. The pain too sharp.

Maria was dead, and there wasn’t a thing she could remember. Was she there when her best friend was killed? Had she done anything, absolutely anything at all, to save her?

With Richard at her side, she made it toward the ambulance doors and was almost gone when EMTs pushing a gurney passed by them, its occupant draped with a white sheet. The mid-region was stained burgundy.

Maria.

She reached out to the passing body, but Richard pulled her back.

“Come on. Let’s get you home.”

He wrapped his arms around her in a protective manner, but they felt thinner than she remembered. The embrace, while meant to be reassuring, felt only soft. His shower-fresh scent gave her no comfort.

With a wobbly gurney wheel squeaking, her best friend’s body rolled past.

CHAPTER 11

Sal stood at Richard’s bedroom window, watching the rainfall. If only she could cry as easily as the heavens. None of what had transpired felt real. From the smallest detail of missing a suture placement not once, but twice, to her best friend meeting a bloody end in the basement.

Arms wrapped around her waist, she stared at San Francisco from her vantage point atop Nob Hill. The Victorian home had been built at the turn of the century to provide the most magnificent view of the bejeweled city.

To the left was the glimmering Golden Gate Bridge. To the right was the now- dark Bay Bridge, and somewhere out in the blustery bay lay Alcatraz Island.

Beneath her, entire swaths of the city were still black, which only made the twinkling reds and greens of Chinatown all the more stunning.

Lightning danced across the horizon and thunder grumbled, but they were far off. Only distant reminders of the chaos that had crashed into her life. She glanced behind her. Richard was still asleep, his swimmer’s body only partially covered by the goose down comforter. If only she could have found sleep with such ease.

Fear clutched her belly. The desire to run was nearly irrepressible. It took conscious effort not to put on her shoes and just head out into the night. She knew that whatever happened down in the basement must have been horrible to make her so skittish, but not being able to remember the details somehow made it all the worse.

Richard had tried to soothe her, but each time Sal came close to snatching a fleeting memory from the ether, her throat closed off, and the only thing that came out was a moan.

Finally, to placate a very concerned Richard, Sal took a Valium and lay down in his arms, pretending to fall asleep. Once she was certain that he was down for the night, she rose and took up sentry duty by the window.

Below her perch, another section of streetlights bloomed to life in Cow’s Hollow. By dawn, it looked like the City would be fully powered. She could even see the sparks of electric buses running along the Presidio. Life was getting back to normal.

San Francisco might be that resilient, but Sal knew she wasn’t. When she tried to doze off, violent images filled her mind.

Blood red. White steel. Pain and fear.

So much for her mind protecting her.

A lightning bolt struck close. So close that while the sky was still lit, thunder shook the windows. In that moment, she saw the man’s reflection in the window. The set of his jaw. The sapphire eyes.

CHAPTER 12

Sal turned on her heel, but found only empty air. How could she remember the man so vividly in that moment, but now, a second later, she could barely hang onto the memory of his broad shoulders and thick stubble?

“Everything okay?” Richard murmured as he turned over.

“Yeah,” Sal lied as she wrapped her arms around her belly again.

Richard lifted the down cover. “Come back to bed.”

She glanced to the window as lightning struck over the Golden Gate Bridge, making the structure glow an unnatural orange. Since the landscape no longer offered her solace, Sal didn’t resist climbing in next to him.

Instead of their usual spooning, she made sure to cuddle face to face. She needed something to look at besides the dark night.

He hugged her to his smooth chest. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

But how could it be? Maria was dead, and what she had seen…

“Just relax,” Richard coaxed, stroking her hair. “Allow your chest to rise and fall.”

Not knowing what else to do, she obeyed, letting air fill up her lungs, and then exhaling. He was right. It did feel good. But instead of relaxing her, Sal suddenly became aware of Richard’s biceps holding her. His chest rubbing against her breasts. As blood rushed south, Sal nudged her knee between his legs until their limbs became entwined.

Now she didn’t have to concentrate on breathing, as her respirations quickened. Sal kissed the hollow of his shoulder, and then up his neck. Richard’s mouth murmured objections, but his groin was rising to the occasion. She urged his hand from where it rested on her back down to the curve of her hip.

He leaned down, Sal was certain, to discuss the psychological ramifications of post-loss coitus, but she met his lips with her own, sabotaging his resistance. As her tongue probed his, suddenly there was no argument. It had been so long, and it felt so good.

With eager hands, he pulled her nightgown up as she tugged his boxers down. Her pulse pounded as loudly in her ears as it had in that hallway. His hand found her breast as she spread her legs, but he held back. Only a few inches closer, and he would have quenched a hunger that welled from much deeper than her conscious mind. She wrapped a leg around his waist and urged him toward her.

“Take me,” Sal moaned.

His body seemed eager to comply, but Richard put his hand on her leg, easing it off of him. “It’s not right.”

Oh, but it was nothing else but right as Sal kissed along his jawline, nibbling at his stubble. The hair was sparse, but she liked its coarseness against her tongue.

With both hands on her shoulders, Richard pushed her away until they were at eye level. “This is not the way to honor Maria’s memory.”

“Are you kidding?” Sal snorted. “If our roles were reversed, this is exactly what she’d be doing.”

Richard’s eyes softened. “True, but you’re not Maria, and I’m not, well, every man who’s ever worked at San Francisco General.” She reached out to stroke his chest, but he caught her hand. “This isn’t making love. It’s acting out, and I won’t enable it.”

She could tell by the set of his lips and his waning excitement that he was serious. Sighing, Sal flopped onto her back, frustrated. She felt like yelling, flailing, anything but just lying there.

Her body still ached for the stirred-up desire to be fulfilled, but Richard patted her shoulder. “Come on. Roll over.”

As they assumed their usual spoon position, Richard’s smooth voice coaxed her to slumber. “Tense your shoulders, now relax them. Tense your arms, now relax them…”

It took a few minutes for her heart rate to drop to something close to normal. Between the soothing tone and the Valium, Sal felt her eyes droop, and when they did close, there weren’t any splashes of blood or metal. With her mind drifting off to a gentle sleep, she was almost glad they didn’t have sex.

Almost.

CHAPTER 13

The next afternoon, Richard’s SUV windshield wipers kept a steady beat as they brushed away the mist. Actually, anywhere else in the world, this would be considered a shower, but it took the raw power of last night’s storm for a San Franciscan to admit that it was actually raining. Any other form of precipitation was considered either a heavy mist or a thick fog. Forget that there were drops dripping from your lashes. It wasn’t rain.

Sal sat in the passenger seat, watching the “mist” collect on the hood of the car. They had just come from the police station, where she had given her statement. Or rather, lack of statement.

Worse than even last night, Sal couldn’t remember a single detail from the horrible scene. They showed her awful photos of the destroyed blood bank, but nothing could shake her memory. It was as if her mind were a chalkboard. Not only had someone wiped it clean, but then he had pounded the eraser of its loose chalk. All that was left were faint scratches on the board.

Sal couldn’t help but fear that she was somehow letting the person who killed Maria get away. All this she kept from her fiancé, though. He’d just tell her that it was survivor guilt or some other psychological term used to convince her that she should still be alive while her friend was dead.

Unfortunately, as Richard drove her to work, he wasn’t keeping his concerns quiet. “Honey, can we please try to have a rational discussion about this?” After she didn’t answer, he sighed. “I simply don’t believe that no one else is available to cover the shift.”

There were many things that Sal didn’t bother to explain to him. First, there simply wasn’t anyone else. Dr. Lambert had been in a car accident the night before. All things considered, he had come out lucky, but he had still ended up with a broken ankle. In addition, the only other R-3 had not only realized she was pregnant, but had started spotting, so she was put on strict bed rest. And given that Stacy had been on for close to twenty-four hours with minimal assistance, Sal needed to get in there before the staff mutinied.

Even if that weren’t the case, Sal simply didn’t want anyone else to cover the shift. Sitting around with all these half-memories and vague regrets weighed upon her. Richard wanted her to accept them.

How could she tell Richard that most of all, she needed to get out from under his doting eye? As Maria would have said, her fiancé was “up in her bizness.” He probed where she didn’t want to be probed, yet wouldn’t touch her where she wanted to be touched.

Sal needed to be around those who had known Maria and loved her, flaws and all. Richard tried, but he only saw her best friend as a sex-addicted adrenaline junkie. Her co-workers knew there was so much more to the woman. She longed to be with them. Those who understood her loss.

“I feel that returning to work so soon is ill advised.”

“Duly noted,” she snapped, realizing her words were too harsh, but not feeling exactly motivated to apologize. Sal didn’t want to admit it, but last night’s rebuff still rankled. Worse, the one person who could have turned the rejection into an anecdote with a great punch line was dead.

Richard’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel, and his jaw worked up and down, as if weighing the words he wanted to say before he uttered them. She could see him struggle between allowing her the autonomy to make bad decisions versus counseling her into compliance.

Whatever bond they had formed when Richard had stood up for her against the police and Manning had eroded with the early morning rain.

She’d awakened resenting anything and everything he did.

He pulled the SUV to a stop in front of the ER as they waited for an ambulance to clear the bay. “Don’t hesitate to call if you want to come home early. Otherwise, I’ll be here at midnight to pick you up.” He overrode her protests. “Is that duly noted?”

Sal sighed. She deserved that. “I can’t guarantee that I’ll be on time.”

Richard shrugged as he pulled the car forward. “I’ll wait.”

He would do anything for her. So why was she being such a bitch?

Trying to summon a smile, she placed her hand over his and gave a genuinely affectionate squeeze. “Thank you.”

As an ambulance hit its siren behind them, Richard gave her a peck on the cheek. “Midnight.”

The witching hour, Sal thought, not sure why that suddenly bothered her.

CHAPTER 14

Sal hurried out of the car, ready for whatever emergency the ambulance brought, but the EMT shook his head as he parked the bus. “Just a supply run. Streets have been quiet all morning.”

“I thought Frank worked on Thursdays?”

Matt shrugged. “Took the day off.” He looked away from her, giving his words more weight. “Seems everyone’s regrouping after last night.”

Sal was glad to know she wasn’t the only one.

As they entered the ER together, Sal found that Matt’s assessment had been correct. Ninety percent of the lobby seats were empty. Instead of the usual frantic hustle behind the nurse’s station, several nurses leaned on chairs, talking away. One even sat on the counter.

Oh, God, this wasn’t what she had signed on for. Sal had been looking forward to venting her cooped-up anxiety. An adrenaline catharsis. Instead, even here, she was going to have to talk.

Paul hurried over to give her a hug. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah,” Sal lied, not sure how many of these greetings she could take.

Luckily, Stacy barreled down the hall with her gaggle of students.

“Dr. Calon, you didn’t have to come in. I’ve already pulled a double. A triple would be no sweat.”

Yet behind her, every single nurse shook their heads violently. They needn’t have worried. No matter how depressed she felt, Sal would never leave them at the mercy of a sleep-deprived Manning.

“Let’s get to the rounds,” Sal suggested.

Stacy didn’t seem to have much fight left in her as she turned to the roster board without further argument. With a quick glance, Sal realized it had been an even lighter day than she had at first suspected. There were only half a dozen patients’ names up there, and not a single one was highlighted in blue, indicating critically unstable. Only one was in red, as a warning to the staff that the patient was critical but holding his own. Most were either an “about to be discharged” green or an “awaiting procedures” yellow with a few “to be admitted to another service” oranges sprinkled in for color.

No wonder Manning looked so rested for being on duty for twenty-four straight hours. Twelve of them looked like they had been a breeze.

As Stacy pontificated on and on about her outstanding work, Sal’s eyes wandered to the nurses’ desk. The main computer was still decorated with Maria’s Hello Kitty kitsch: a pencil sharpener, paper clip holder, and about a thousand stickers. Guess no one had the heart to take it down yet, Sal thought.

“Are you paying attention, or are you going to wake me up fourteen times today asking me questions that I’ve already answered?”

Without even looking at the board, Sal stated, “Curtain four needs an enema. We’re waiting on a surgery consult to clear the sprained elbow, and as soon as a telemetry bed opens up in the step-down blood ward, Trauma One will be transferred.”

Clearly disappointed that Sal had been listening, Manning tossed a pile of charts onto the desk. “Well, since you’re so familiar, you can sign them all off.”

Stuff it, Sal thought. Charting was the worst part of their job, tedious and boring, but Paul stood behind Manning with his hands clasped in prayer, silently begging Sal to agree.

“Fine,” Sal acquiesced. “But if I get slammed, you’ve got to do mine tonight.”

Stacy just walked off. Typical. Sal turned to the small sea of younger residents, interns, and medical students. “All right, Feldon, supervise—”

“Dr. Calon?” a baritone voice asked from behind her. Startled, Sal turned to find the Chief of Emergency Medicine waving her over. “Would you mind stepping into my office?”

Her muscles tensed in one painful second. Those were the most dreaded words you could hear from Dr. Bersher. No one went into that office and came out unscathed.

You were either fired, or… Well, you were fired.

CHAPTER 15

If you got a summons to Dr. Bersher’s office, you might as well call the unemployment department. Sal glanced around. The entire staff had the same stricken look. There the Chief stood, his office’s huge window looming beside him—a one-way glass that made it all the better for him to spy on the ER.

Until she had come to San Francisco General, she’d never seen anything like it. At first the concept had been creepy, thinking that Bersher could be watching at any moment, but after a while it became reassuring to know that he was there.

It certainly kept things moving. If more than five charts sat in the rack, he’d come barreling from his office, barking orders. No one wanted the Badger to leave his den, so the SFGH emergency room ran more efficiently than any she’d ever worked in.

How she wished he’d been here last night.

But now…

He must have sensed the staff’s reluctance to have her enter the axing room. “Please. I don’t bite.” Yet his tone proved otherwise.

Clearing her throat, she joined him. “Dr. Bersher, I didn’t realize you’d come back early from your vacation.”

“I felt my presence was needed.” He urged her forward. “As is yours in my office.”

As she entered, Sal realized that she had no idea what to expect. No one who still worked here knew what the interior looked like. To her surprise, the office was far more comfortably appointed than she would have guessed.

An executive chair was placed behind an antique mahogany desk, with two mission-style chairs opposite. An overstuffed leather couch ran along the far wall. Why he had extra seating, she didn’t know, since he had, at most, five people visit over the course of the year.

The Badger wasn’t into formalities, as he spoke before either of them had a chance to sit down. “As you might be aware, Maria’s family has chosen to fly her body home to Dallas for burial there.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Sal answered, realizing she had always thought that Maria came from Fort Worth. How could she call Maria her best friend, when she couldn’t even properly identify which of the Texas cities she came from?

“I still feel that it’s important for the staff to have closure, so I have arranged a small memorial service tomorrow afternoon in the chapel.”

Sal found the words hard to speak. Any thought or emotion having to do with Maria felt heavy. So heavy that she felt like she would break just trying to convey it. “I think everyone would appreciate that.”

For the first time in the three years she had worked here, her boss seemed reserved. Almost timid. “I have been talking with the staff, and I know this may be hard for you, given the circumstances, but they would like for you to speak on their behalf.”

“I don’t understand.”

“They feel that you were the closest to her, and if we only had enough time for one person to give a eulogy, it should be you.”

Sal just stood there, blinking. She didn’t even know where Maria grew up. How could she eulogize her? “I… I don’t know if…”

“You loved her, and they love you, so anything you say…” he said softly, then opened the door. “Now why don’t you get some work done?”

Still in a daze, Sal exited the office. Had the Badger actually been nice to her? When she looked up, she found the entire staff watching her with an anticipation that bordered on terror. Knowing that her boss was probably watching at this moment, Sal just gave a little thumbs-up sign. A cheer erupted from the cluster of staff, which brought a smile to her lips.

Yep, she was home.

CHAPTER 16

At 11:29 p.m., Sal plopped down in the residents’ office, feeling every inch of the unforgiving metal chair. She carefully set down her laptop, but let the heavy stack of charts slide haphazardly onto the desktop.

Well, if she wanted distractions, she’d gotten a lot. She’d lost count of the number of patients after they hit the thirty mark. It seemed the City had held its breath after the violent storm, and then in a rush exhaled, right into the emergency room. It was all in those charts. Fractures, colds, herpes, and one strange case of heat exhaustion.

She tried to turn on the small lamp that looked like it had been out of style even back in the seventies, but it didn’t work. The bulb was burnt out. Out of the eight residents, it seemed that she was the only one who knew how to change it. However, tonight she was so tired that instead of walking all the way to the other end of the emergency room to the supply closet, she just pulled up the blinds to let in some light.

As Sal looked out over the ER, she realized that the Badger had remodeled the residents’ office to mimic his own—kind of like a mini-den. Her office might not have one-way glass, but she could survey the width and breadth of the department.

Of course, there were a few other differences, such as no leather couch. Hell, no leather anything. Just two bunk beds with threadbare sheets, this rickety desk, and a tiny refrigerator that couldn’t even hold a full six-pack of soda, but it was her domain.

Well, maybe not her kingdom, but certainly her responsibility, one that she had fulfilled today. Despite the insanely high volume of patients, everything had gone smoothly. Maria would have been proud of her staff.

Not a single complaint as they worked through the day without even a break. If only the selection committee coveted efficiency more than pomp.

Unfortunately, Sal couldn’t rest on her laurels. It was getting late, and she had about two hours’ worth of charting to do in under thirty minutes.

She certainly couldn’t count on Stacy to pick up her slack.

As Sal settled in for some power-charting, the excitement of the day waned. Her mind wandered back to last night’s pain rather than to which anticonvulsant she had started for the epileptic. How could she feel the terror of the hallway without knowing the cause of it?

“Dr. Calon?” A meek female voice startled her from the other side of the doorway. Unlike the Badger, Sal had an open-door policy.

“Yeah, what do you need?” She answered kindly, knowing that only a medical student could sound that terrified. Soon, they’d realize that she and Manning treated their students very differently.

“Um, Paul asked me to bring the labs on Mr. McMillon.”

Sal glanced at the urinalysis. Mr. McMillon, if that was his real name, had been playing with someone he shouldn’t have. “Have the lab culture it and start one hundred thousand units of Pen G.”

Sal looked up at the fresh-faced student. Had she ever been that young? Well, it was time for this student to earn her keep. She pulled a maneuver straight out of Maria’s playbook. Her friend would be proud.

“And have a talk with the patient about safe sex. He also might want to upgrade his ‘adult entertainment.’ Remind him that even in this instance, you basically get what you pay for.”

The girl’s face blanched as she stammered, “ What… I can’t… I mean… Shouldn’t it be you?”

“Sorry.” She shooed her away. “Consider it a rite of passage.”

Chuckling at the student’s stunned look, Sal went back to her charts.

Okay, sometimes she and Stacy were alike.

CHAPTER 17

Sal hit the key that stamped her electronic signature onto the thirteenth out of a gazillion charts. She looked at the little clock on her laptop. She’d never be done by midnight.

Pulling out her cell phone to call Richard, Sal stopped short. The hairs at the back of her neck trembled. There was no lightning, yet a bolt shot through her body. No thunder rumbled, yet her body shook. Sal worried that she was having a panic attack, until she felt the heat at her back.

Gulping, she knew exactly who stood there. The man.

In his presence, her missing memories didn’t flood back. Instead, every gruesome detail of Maria’s dead body and the terror of the crimson hallway simply reappeared—as if someone had hit the ‘Restore’ button, and she suddenly had access to the movie of her blood dripping onto the man’s glowing knife. She felt horror and relief swirl uneasily in her belly.

While getting her memories back had been her goal, their sudden reappearance threatened to unbalance her. She had been terrified enough living through them. Now within this instant, she was forced to relive it all as if were new again. Tears threatened. She didn’t want to step back into the moment she’d found Maria dead, but she couldn’t stop it.

Clutching her midriff, Sal felt like retching. She felt like running. She felt like dying. Then these displaced memories seemed to find their place amongst the others. As they settled in, the racking pain subsided.

She thought the worst was over, and then another wave of horror crashed over her, knocking the wind from her. The memories represented a loss even greater than Maria. The world she knew, with order and science and logic, no longer existed.

The man behind her, who could make memories flutter away and then reappear, proved that. These stark, graphic images of that crimson hallway forced Sal to accept the unacceptable. Horrible, nasty things stalked the night that were far more terrible than any fairy tale her grandmamma used to tell. Not only did they stalk, but they killed.

As the memories sorted themselves out, Sal realized that she should have died last night. She would have, if not for the man standing behind her. Sal owed him her life, but didn’t even know his identity.

“Do you have a name?”

“Tyr,” his voice rumbled. “I have need of more blood.”

Of course he did. What else would a man who defied the laws of nature want? Her wrist should be red and horribly inflamed from the slice he took the night before, yet even Sal couldn’t tell where the thin scar stopped and her normal skin started. Who else could do such a thing?

Rising, she turned to face him. Tyr’s eyes were as glacially blue as the night before, but the ragged cut running down his neck was certainly different. Her instinct was to rush over and tend to the injury, but his harsh gaze stopped her.

Sal felt her hand reach out to steady herself against the table. Just that look brought back such horrible sensations. Her throat ached where he had grabbed her and lifted her off the floor. The force of his commanding tone, compelling her to act against her own will.

If Tyr hadn’t saved her life, she would have hated him. That emotion was now reserved for only one. The creature that claimed Maria.

Reshaping terror into anger, Sal asked, “What killed my friend?”

“The beast matters not. We speak only of blood.”

Sal could feel Tyr’s words insinuate themselves into her mind, warping her thoughts so that she agreed with him. That she didn’t care what had killed Maria. That she only wanted to serve Tyr’s request.

Despite the force of his words, Sal didn’t comply. In a very real sense they held equal power over the other. He wanted blood. She wanted to understand what in the hell happened last night.

“If you want blood so badly, you’re going to tell me.”

Sal strained against his will and took a step forward.

His eyes narrowed, and the command came as a bark. “Halt.”

That single word nearly pressed her into obedience. She could feel his will try to bend her. Even though Tyr had spoken the command only once, the word and, more importantly, his desire, echoed again and again in her mind. Each time she tried to pick up her foot, the word resisted any effort.

Somehow he had delivered his will to her mind, and it set root there.

Sal had felt the effect of his edicts last night. They even lasted into the day. Tyr’s presence somehow lay in her subconscious, skimming just beneath the surface, until it was needed to keep her in line. This near, Sal felt that Tyr could raise or lower her heartbeat on a whim. His commanding presence acted like a pheromone, only amplified a thousand fold.

Yes, it was just like a hormone. And as a doctor, Sal understood hormones. They were nothing more than protein messengers for the body.

Her mind could accept or reject the message they carried.

Despite her body wishing desperately to obey him, Sal concentrated on her left foot. No one controlled her like this. She was a woman of science.

Tyr couldn’t possess mind control power, no matter the evidence to the contrary. Perhaps he had created an aerosolized form of GHB or some other hyper-suggestible psycho-pharmaceutical, but chemicals she could resist. To serve Maria’s memory, she had to.

“You’re going to have to do better than that,” Sal said, taking a lurching step forward. Her muscles shook as if she’d run two marathons back-to-back, but she’d defied him and his command.

When Tyr’s lids narrowed, it appeared in concern rather than simple concentration. His eyes surveyed her as she kept her lips drawn tight. Clearly, he didn’t like what he found. His anger became a palpable force. It took every ounce of concentration, but she didn’t flinch from his fury.

“You wish to know the all?” he asked.

For the first time, Sal heard Tyr’s true voice. It still had that deep baritone. However, the menacing undercurrent that sapped her will was gone.

This voice she could answer without effort. “Yes.”

He stepped forward so that there was only a centimeter between them. His breath beat hot against her skin, but for some reason she didn’t mind.

“Once your ears have heard it, you will wish you had not asked.”

CHAPTER 18

Tyr was probably right, but Sal felt resolved. The only way to live with these memories was to make some sense out of them. She had to understand how her friend had come to die in such a horrible manner. If Sal had been the one to die in that bloody basement, Sal imagined that right now, her best friend would be shaking heaven and earth to find out why.

Channeling Maria, Sal braced herself. “Let’s hear it.”

When his gaze passed over her face, his lips set into a line. Not a frown, but neither was it a smile. Finally, he came to some conclusion.

“I will not burden you so.”

That was it.

Maria wouldn’t put up with such a crappy answer, and neither would Sal.

“You know what? Fine.” She put her hand on the phone. “I’ll call the police, and you can explain your hard-on for blood to them.”

“Sit.”

Damn it. Her butt was in the chair before she even registered the change in his tone. It took complete and total concentration to resist his edict. Still, she took a bit of satisfaction that her hand still rested on the handle.

Regrouping, Sal very deliberately picked up the phone and dialed.

For once, it was he who was drawn forward. “Please…”

His tone sounded wounded. As if being vulnerable, even in this smallest way, physically hurt Tyr. That single, pained word affected her far more than any edict ever had.

Sal put the phone down as their eyes locked. Without words, the two came to an accord. She understood his reluctance to explain the complicated events of the night before, and Tyr found that she wasn’t going to take “no” for an answer.

“Your scrying box can speak with others, can it not?” Tyr asked.

That was the last thing that she had expected to come from his mouth. It took a second to follow his gaze to her laptop. Where in the hell did he come from that he didn’t know what a computer was?

“You mean Wi-Fi?”

“It can communicate with the box from your place of the dead?”

Tyr’s syntax felt so foreign that Sal struggled to understand the question. His leather boots creaked as he leaned over her.

“Do you mean the morgue?”

Off Tyr’s nod, she called up the website.

“Seek the newly departed.”

Within a few keystrokes, Sal brought up the day’s death statistics. She wasn’t sure what in the hell he would want with the information. The page didn’t reveal any personal information. It only gave an overview of the morgue’s general intake.

Seventeen admissions. Sal frowned. That was way higher than normal. The ICU had lost two criticals from yesterday’s pileup, but she had only one DOA during her entire shift. Granted, some deaths were pronounced on the scene by the ME and never made it to her ER, but this many? Another fourteen? That seemed exceptional.

He must have read her surprise. “See to the cause.”

“I can’t. That’s restricted information.”

There was that strident tone again. “See to it.”

Despite resisting, her fingers fulfilled his command. However, even his subliminal desire couldn’t overcome a password-protected website.

“I told you,” she said through clenched teeth. Just an instant’s slip in concentration, and he could affect her so.

Tyr didn’t seem daunted. “You have not asked.”

Sal hit the ‘Enter’ command again, and again an error message popped up.

“I don’t have the authority to access that information.”

There was almost a grin at the edge of those lips. “No. Ask him.”

“Him, who?”

He pointed to her laptop. “Him.”

Until now, Sal had taken a lot of Tyr’s strange demeanor on… not exactly faith. More like desperation. She was confused about so much that it was easy to overlook the impossibility of it all. But Tyr telling her that her mood would affect how her laptop performed showed some obvious mental instability. Tyr might have saved her life and held the key to Maria’s death, but calling the cops on him was sounding better and better.

“Look, this is a machine,” she tried to explain. Tyr cocked his head, seeming not to understand her words. “It obeys a set of rules. It can’t interact like that.”

Sal flinched as his hand suddenly moved over her hand, but it held no knife. Instead his palm was open, hovering a few millimeters above her flesh. Slowly, ever so slowly, he floated his palm over her fingers, then wrist, then forearm. Blood rushed to her skin, flushing like a sunburn.

“We are not touching, yet are we not interacting?” Tyr asked.

She pulled her arm away. “No.”

But his hand continued up her shoulder. “Do we share nothing? Is our essence not mingling?”

It was more than mingling, but Sal couldn’t let his musk-laden presence deter her. Her only interest was for the information within his mind. Tyr’s startling blue eyes and warm hands were not the issue.

“That’s different.”

“Is it?” When he pulled back, her shoulder felt cold—and so very alone. “Try again, for he does not wish me to do the asking.”

Sal hit the ‘Return’ button, mainly just to have something to do rather than think about his almost touch.

Suddenly a list of the fatalities, including their autopsy reports, scrolled down the screen. It couldn’t be. She hadn’t even bothered to type in a password.

Yet there they were. The dead of the city.

CHAPTER 19

Sal’s head snapped around, but Tyr didn’t seem at all surprised that the files had appeared. If anything, the harsh glint to his stare lessened.

“He wishes only appreciation.” He nodded toward her laptop.

Her fingers flew away from the keyboard. What Tyr proposed couldn’t be true, could it? When it came out of his mouth the concept sounded ludicrous, yet hadn’t she always had the vague sense that her computer didn’t like her? The more she needed a spreadsheet, the more likely he was to crash.

It was to crash, she corrected herself. Her laptop was just a machine.

Still, when she laid her fingers onto the keys she did so more gently. With far more respect than usual, she tapped the key to examine the causes of death. Because no matter how skeptical Sal was of her laptop’s sentience, information only the ME should have access to stared at back at her.

“Look to those without wounds,” the man directed.

As she sorted through the cases, Sal said, “Why? Maria was…”

Sal couldn’t bring herself to talk about the bloody gashes. The mauling.

Bile rose to the back of her throat. Maybe it was better when she couldn’t remember these details.

“He has learned, as I did, that here, blood draws as much attention as in our land.”

“Your land?” she asked, eager to talk about anything that didn’t have to do with gore and pain.

Tyr pointed to the screen. “That is the most recent.”

Even though he didn’t use his commanding tone, Sal turned to her laptop. Her priority was finding out what killed Maria and stopping it from killing anyone else.

Her eyes passed over the autopsy notes as Tyr leaned over her. The edge of his leather coat brushed her cheek. It smelled of oil and sweat, which, surprisingly, didn’t turn her stomach. The fragrance was ripe in her nostrils as she focused on the causes of death.

Except that there were no conclusive causes of death. The ME reported a moderate anemia, which shouldn’t have been fatal, and mild encephalitis. Again, not severe enough to cause death.

“You’re saying that… that thing from last night did this?”

Tyr pointed to another file. “That was the first.”

She double-clicked on the link. While this one had no specific cause either, the anemia was much worse, but there wasn’t any swelling of the brain. Quickly, Sal correlated the rest of the deaths. As the anemia lessened, the encephalitis worsened. It was a classic regression curve, but how did that help them?

“I don’t understand.”

Tyr straightened. “He learns quickly. If I do not find the blood to fight him, these dead will seem but an ebb tide.”

The way his eyes hardened and teeth clenched, Tyr believed every word. Given the bodies piling up in the morgue, Sal was starting to as well.

Did she need to understand his need for blood to fulfill it? After seeing her blood change the color of steel, Sal didn’t need logical sense.

Slowly Sal pulled back her sleeve and offered Tyr her wrist, worrying if she had fallen prey to another of his edicts. Then she looked into those glacial blue eyes that waxed desperate. No, this offer of blood was of her own volition. With nearly twenty dead, her understanding of how this had all happened could wait.

“Go ahead, you can have your blood.”

But Tyr shook his head. “Yours is not in need.”

“Then whose?”

“That of a babe’s.”

CHAPTER 20

Sal blinked, not believing that she heard right. “A baby’s blood?”

Tyr spoke casually, as if explaining that he took his coffee black. “It must be free of its cord, but still in swaddling, yes.”

“No. No. No,” Sal was still busy shaking her head at his lunacy when laughter carried in from the nurse’s station.

She swung around to find Richard searching for amusement in one of Paul’s jokes. She looked at her watch. Eleven forty-five. Shit, he was early. Before her fiancé could spot them, Sal dropped the blinds.

“We’ve got to get you out of here,” she announced.

“Assist in securing the blood, and you shall be free of me.”

Why did the thought of his departure fill her with trepidation? The memories of that bloody basement—and even of Tyr—felt too important to lose.

Tyr must have misread her hesitation. “Upon my honor, I will go.”

They could discuss that later. Right now, they needed to get him away before Richard stumbled in on them. “Follow me. Quietly.”

He opened a small vial and breathed a word over it. “Quiet.”

Sal cringed, already hating his edicts. Yet this wasn’t aimed at her.

Instead the click of his boot’s heel evaporated. She looked up in wonder.

Up until now, it had been easy to shrug off Tyr’s “tricks.” Charisma and pheromones were known, verifiable, and quantifiable human quantities. Both of which he had in copious amounts. Even the laptop’s strange behavior could be chalked up to a glitch.

This, though? To literally dampen sound with a vocal edict? She couldn’t dismiss that as some trick or hack.

With a flicker of a grin, Tyr took her hand. It felt strong. And foreign. And very wrong. She was engaged.

Sal tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. She went to protest when Tyr nodded toward her feet. Sal had been so distracted by his touch that she’d failed to notice that now the squeak of her tennis shoes had vanished.

“Do we need to not be seen?” he whispered as he opened another vial.

As they rounded the corner, Sal pushed the blood away from his lips. Already shaken by her interactive laptop and soundless tennis shoes, she really didn’t want to see what happened if he tried to make them invisible.

“We’re good.”

They slipped into the stairwell and headed up to the third floor. His urgency set their pace, but as they neared the landing, Sal’s hesitation slowed them. She had completed her task. Tyr was far from Richard.

Where they headed and what they intended to do once they got there became much more problematic.

It had been one thing to offer her blood for the cause, but a baby’s? And not even her own, but one sick in the hospital? A place the parents trusted to offer only healing, not pain.

Her certainty in Tyr’s plan faded the closer they got to the pediatric ward. Her rational mind wanted to dismiss his wild assertions and crazy claims as a drug-induced psychotic break, but then she remembered the angry growl echoing off the basement walls. The red glow to the hallway.

Those had been as real as Maria’s mauled body.

How did she reconcile the two extremes?

As they reached the third-floor landing, Tyr put his hand on the doorknob, but Sal placed her hand over it, keeping him from opening it. He tensed under her touch, but she didn’t let go.

“There’s got to be another way.” She’d meant to say it in a normal tone, but it came out only a whisper. His “quiet” command was still at work.

Tyr searched her face and, for once, didn’t seem disappointed. “In my land, he decimated an entire village before he fled to your shores.” He clasped his hand tighter under her touch and opened the door. “And he will do so here if we do not find a weapon worthy of his hide.”

Damn it, she thought. He sounded so sure. Sal knew that sense of certainty as a doctor. There were times when symptoms and lab values didn’t add up, but she knew deep in her gut what course of action to take, even if it meant going against everyone’s, including her supervisor’s, advice. Tyr projected that confidence with his every breath.

And hell if her gut didn’t agree with him.

CHAPTER 21

Sal angled them toward the nursery, and then noted Tyr’s frown.

“I know that most are newborns in here, but some will be older.”

“Their ages are not of concern, but their health.”

She shook her head. “They’re fine. Otherwise, they’d be in the NICU.”

“Then let us find this NICU, then.”

As a nurse exited the nursery, Sal pulled him into the shadows. “You don’t understand. The neonatal ICU is for critically ill babies.”

Again, the curt nod. “Yes. The babe must be near the veil, else the blood will not be potent with the essence of death.”

Could this get any worse? She’d almost talked herself into getting a few milliliters of blood from a healthy newborn, but a sick baby? A baby hooked up to a thousand machines and poked so many times already that the child’s skin looked like polka dots? Could she really subject a child already so injured through even the tiniest of cuts? These babies were so fragile that the pain alone could put them into shock.

He must have read her concern, for he gave a sad smile. “I will only take from he who gives permission.”

“They’re just newborns. They can’t communicate yet.”

“As your scrying box could not understand your intent?”

For every logical, scientific reason she gave for not going along, Tyr countered with an equally illogical, unscientific anecdote that she knew nevertheless to be true. The two refused to coexist in her mind.

“Fine. Then I’m drawing the blood.”

Tyr cocked his head, as if he didn’t understand English, or, more likely, that she was speaking gibberish. “You are live blood.”

“So?”

Speaking to her as if she were a child who needed to be told not to put wads of dirt in her mouth, Tyr explained, “You are not dead blood.”

“Dead blood?”

“Those that have no essence in their blood. Dead bloods. They are few and far between. Only one a generation or two. Are you saying your world has none?”

“I…Well, I’m not sure. I don’t even know what essence is, let alone know if I have it or not.”

He grunted, seemingly amazed at their backward ways. “Then let it be known. You, being live blood, cannot draw live blood.”

She waited for an elaboration, but he just stared at her. “Why not?”

Tyr groped for the words, again as if she had asked him a question as obvious as why people breathed.

“It would be as if you wanted to control a flame, yet set about kindling to capture it. The flame would consume that which meant to control it.” He paused, scanning her face for understanding. “Do you see?”

She didn’t, but Sal also didn’t understand how her shoes weren’t squeaking incessantly anymore, either. In the end, whether she believed or even understood the concept of live versus dead blood, did it really make any difference if she or Tyr drew the child’s?

Not believing she was agreeing to this, Sal nodded. “All right, I’ll find a nurse to let us in, then distract her while—”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Tyr took a tiny glass vial from his pocket and cracked it against the thick, locked, sliding glass doors. A dust flew up, coating them.

Clearing his throat, he spoke at full volume. “Ignore.”

Sal was going to explain how that wasn’t going to work, when the sliding doors whisked open and Tyr stepped into the NICU unobserved.

CHAPTER 22

Sal hurried after him. That door had been key-carded. A total of only ten people in the entire hospital had access to this room. Not even the Badger could get into the neonatal unit without an escort.

The duty nurse should have descended upon them, demanding that they don gowns, booties, caps, and masks, but the older woman just kept rocking the baby she was feeding, not even glancing up at their intrusion.

Tyr didn’t bother glancing in her direction as he slowly navigated between the plastic incubators, passing a hand over each child, and then moving on. Sal was almost glad he didn’t settle on one in particular. It meant the child still had hope.

“Why don’t they see us?” Sal whispered.

He just shrugged, his attention consumed by the children.

“It’s like…” She didn’t want to say it out loud, but someone had to.

“You use blood to create…” Oh, God, was she really going to say the word out loud? “Magic.”

Tyr snorted. “Only a witch would believe so.”

“I don’t—”

“My people call the working of blood upon the world ‘Praxis’.”

“What does…”

She aborted her questions as Tyr paused, his hand hovering above a plastic crib. Sal glanced at the baby’s chart. No wonder Tyr had taken an interest in this child. Not only did this two-month-old premature girl have severe icterus, but she also had bilateral thrombosis orbital verices. The baby was so sick that her parents had already signed an advance directive to not resuscitate if the worst happened. Even they were ready to let go.

Tyr opened the plastic lid and placed his hand upon the tiny infant’s chest. Sal nearly panicked. There were strict protocols for these little preemies. They caught infections so easily.

His hand’s span was wider than the entire infant. Under two pounds, the baby girl hardly looked human. Her shriveled skin had a sickly yellow cast, and her little fingers seemed better suited for a doll than a baby.

With the closest thing to a smile Sal had ever seen from Tyr, he looked up at her, and his eyes misted over. “She’ll grow taller than her brother.”

She studied the chart again. That didn’t seem likely. Then Tyr picked up Sal’s hand and placed it over the child’s heart that beat like a hummingbird’s. The baby’s breaths barely raised the weight of Sal’s hand.

“Your papers mean little. It is the HeartsBlood that tells the tale.”

How Sal wished she could believe him, but all she felt was a failing baby beneath her fingers.

A squall rose from across the room. Sal froze. Normally, a baby’s cry would have brought nurses flying across the room to attend to its needs, but the nursery remained still. The sole nurse in the unit continued her feeding, while another outside the glass barrier sat casually writing up a chart as she sipped a cup of coffee.

Tyr strode over to the bassinet. This baby seemed so healthy he didn’t even require oxygen as he squirmed vigorously. Not the typical NICU patient. As Tyr put a hand on the child’s head, Sal scanned the chart. The baby was far older than most in here, nearly five months old. Which didn’t make any sense, until Sal found the baby’s diagnosis.

The boy had been admitted into the unit to receive chemotherapy for a malignant neuroblastoma. According to the chart, though, everything was going well. The tumor had shrunk considerably, and there was very little organ damage from the toxic drugs.

“He’s due to be discharged tomorrow morning,” she noted, assuming Tyr would move on, but instead he moved her hand to cradle the baby’s head. The boy’s face screwed up into a grimace.

“Can you not sense it?”

As hard as she tried, Sal just felt a cranky baby under her palm. “No.”

Gently, Tyr rubbed his thumb over the boy’s forehead. “There is a knotting deep that will break soon. Can you not feel the pressure within?”

Again, she had to shake her head.

Instead of recrimination, Tyr nodded sadly. “Your own essence blinds you. It is… Your… It brims.”

Sal wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

“It is time,” Tyr said, pulling his knife from its sheath.

In a panic, she grabbed his wrist. “No! Wait.”

It was one thing to consider taking a baby’s blood in theory. It was quite another when the baby fussed right under your hand. They couldn’t do it. She couldn’t do it. But Tyr brought his knife to bear.

Then she remembered his promise. “Not until he ‘agrees.’ “

Sal thought she had forestalled the crossing of this awful line, but Tyr held out his hand to the infant boy. “May I?”

Then the most amazing thing occurred. The baby placed his little hand in Tyr’s wide palm. Those icy blue eyes thawed just a bit as he looked over to her. “We are ready. Are you not?”

They both seemed at peace. A peace Sal didn’t think she’d ever achieve. What could she do but incline her head?

With quick precision, Tyr made the nick. The baby just gurgled a happy coo as the blood welled. The collection was a simple thing. Once Tyr capped the vial, he leaned over the child.

“Thanks be to you, little warrior.” Tyr kissed the top of the baby’s head.

The scene felt surreal. Was this little boy going to die tonight? Is this really how this night was going to end? With another death?

Unfortunately, Tyr’s words rang true. No, not just his instinct, but hers as well. For just the briefest moment, when she held her hand against that fuzzy scalp, Sal could have sworn she could feel the tangle of blood vessels that fed the baby’s tumor. She could even feel the fatal clot that was about to break off and cause a massive stroke.

No matter that the child’s toes touched the edge of the veil, his heart was still beating. Every instinct as a doctor screamed for her to help the baby. Could she just stand by and let the child die without at least trying? Maybe his Praxis couldn’t help stop a stroke, but she knew half a dozen ways they could possibly prevent the tragedy.

She grabbed the chart and began scribbling orders when a noise from the nurse’s desk made them both swing around.

It was Richard. He’d come looking for her.

Of course, he’d come looking for her.

They would be discovered. How could they not? Tyr’s “ignore” edict couldn’t shelter them forever. And when the nurses found out they were inside the NICU without proper sterile garments, touching vulnerable children? She’d be lucky if she just got suspended. The Badger had terminated doctors for far less.

CHAPTER 23

Then Tyr’s hand was in her own, pulling her down into a crouch.

“Is there no route beyond those doors?”

Sal thought back to her neonatal rotation. “The director’s office.”

Scrambling between the incubators, they snuck to the back of the ward.

Sal tried the doorknob, but it wouldn’t budge. “It’s locked.”

Why she thought that would matter to Tyr, she didn’t know.

“Because you did not ask,” he said, as he placed his hand over hers. The knob turned smoothly, not even giving a little resistance to make it look at least a little hard. The act didn’t even require blood.

Once inside, she led him to the other side of the room, where they spied through the blinds on the nurse’s desk. Sure enough, Richard was inquiring about Sal. Luckily, the nurse didn’t seem to have a clue.

“We’ll have to wait until they move off,” she commented, trying hard not to notice Tyr’s brooding presence right beside her. He radiated a heat that seeped through her clothes and pressed against her skin.

As the seconds dragged on, Sal realized that Tyr had what he’d come for. The baby’s blood. She knew he would honor his promise to leave and never return. These fleeting seconds trapped in the office might be her last chance to gain some measure of closure around Maria’s death.

“Please. I need to know. What killed my friend?”

Tyr kept a vigilant gaze toward Richard and the nurse. “Many call such a Venificus, but it is no more than a beast.” Shifting his gaze to her, he frowned. “Does such knowing make your loss any the less?”

Once the words were out of his mouth, she found that Tyr was right. No knowledge could diminish her loss. Her mind might accept that, but her heart felt the need to cast about for a reason to stop blaming herself.

“No… I just… If I hadn’t sent her for the blood. Or if I’d just gone down to find her earlier…”

Tyr turned back toward the window. “If anyone is to blame for her death, it is I.”

CHAPTER 24

“You?” Sal asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

“In tracking the beast, I tracked a scent which covered your friend. I thought her his next victim.”

“So it was you in the ER, during the lightning flash?”

Tyr nodded slowly, then hung his head, taking several breaths before elaborating. “But the scent was not hers. It was another’s—with whom she had lain.”

Oh, God. Jeremy. The blood bank attendant. Maria must have worked her way around to bedding the buff college student. While Sal loved her friend greatly, it was no secret that the head nurse was considered the hospital’s very own welcoming committee.

“Here’s your employee orientation booklet and a quick lay. Once you’re done, return them both to Human Resources and enjoy your tenure here.”

No wonder Maria had been so eager to go on such a meager errand.

Knowing the head nurse, she probably thought she could squeeze in a quickie before she was missed. While this information should have relieved Sal, the knowledge that she was in no way responsible for Maria’s death gave her no solace.

Tyr clenched his jaw. “By the time I double-backed on the trail and found the true source…”

They both knew what happened. There was no point in speaking it.

CHAPTER 25

The intimacy created by their shared grief became unbearable. She wanted to comfort him in the same instant that she wished to be comforted by him. There was something powerful and binding about skulking in the shadows together, doing forbidden acts.

Breaking the tension, Sal looked out the window. Richard didn’t look like he was going to budge anytime soon. Damn it. For such a pacifist, he could be a pit bull when he wanted.

“He is familiar to you?” Tyr asked.

His raspy voice brought up goose bumps along her neck. She didn’t even know you could get them there. “Yes, he’s… he’s my fiancé.”

She knew Tyr well enough to know that tilt of his head meant he didn’t understand her phrasing. “We’re promised to be married,” she explained, while showing him her engagement ring. It felt like an odd conversation to be having, given the pheromones permeating the small room.

“You are bound to him?”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly…” Oh, what did it the syntax matter? She knew what Tyr meant. “Yes.”

Sal watched Tyr as he surveyed Richard through the blinds. She tried to read the effect that the news had on him. The slight squint to his eyes that deepened his tan crow’s-feet. The rippling of his jaw muscles as they clenched and unclenched. Or how his stubble swirled as it coursed up his cheek.

Tyr turned to her. “You love him?”

Startled, Sal stumbled for an answer. “Yes. Of course.”

“Is it ‘yes,’ or ‘of course?’ “

She flushed red as he stared at her. Even without his demanding tone, he could still unnerve her. Sal cleared her throat. “Yes.”

“Truly? With no reservations?”

Cheeks burning, she rushed to answer—not so much out of passion, but to end his appraising look. “I said, ‘yes.’ “

His expression was inscrutable as he brought out the tiniest of vials. It seemed cut from a glacier, and it sparkled in the low light.

“Of all the essences that blood holds, love is the most potent. Its use is rare, but irreplaceable…” As he looked at the vial, his face clouded over. “It has been empty too long.”

Tyr extended his hand to her, as he had done in that crimson hallway and again to the baby boy. “May I?”

Without thinking, Sal placed her wrist in his palm, this time knowing what came next. “Of course.”

“You must think of him. Feel in all the ways you love him as you speak his name.”

Which became difficult, since Tyr’s warmth stirred a longing she hadn’t known possible. Sal didn’t rattle easily. Yet, she stood trembling at his touch. Sal had to close her eyes in order to even picture her fiancé.

Richard was shorter, slimmer, and you couldn’t smell the testosterone on him. But that’s not what Tyr had asked.

What was the single, most appealing characteristic that she could name about Richard? The answer came in the form of their captivity. They wouldn’t have been trapped in the office if her fiancé hadn’t been so concerned about her that he searched her out. If he didn’t measure up in any other way, Richard did love her.

“Richard Updike.”

This time, the blade cut sharply into her flesh and each drop of blood stung as it fell from her skin into the vial. Tyr tenderly fit the crystal stopper as he met her eyes.

“Even though you shall remember none of this once we are parted, I shall be eternally grateful.”

Sal knew that Tyr might be right, but only partially. At night, in her dreams, the worst memories would return. Those flashes of the death and despair would haunt her, and she wouldn’t even remember why.

She glanced through the blinds. Richard and the nurse were moving off. In just a few moments, Sal would be left with the sight of Maria’s dead eyes forever. If knowing all that she had learned didn’t lessen the pain, why keep such a memory for an eternity?

“I know I told you not to…” She didn’t even know how to ask. “But is there any way to make me forget? All of it?”

Tyr’s lips turned downward. “I am bound by my promise.”

“I release you.”

To Sal’s surprise, Tyr’s hand slipped under her hair to grasp the back of her neck. He pulled her close, so close she both feared and thrilled at the idea that he would kiss her. Their bodies pressed so close together that the leather lapel of his coat dug into her skin. Breath mingling, Sal didn’t know if she’d rebuff or accept his advance.

Instead, he brought his palm to her forehead. “Forget.”

CHAPTER 26

“Sal! What are you doing up here?” Richard asked as he rushed over.

But she wasn’t sure where she was, let alone what she was doing. The last thing she remembered was charting. “I was just…”

As Richard pulled her into a hug so tight that he nearly squeezed the breath from her, Sal heard a baby’s cry, then another. Glancing around, she realized she was up on the peds ward. Over his shoulder, she spotted the NICU. What was she doing up here?

Then she found the chart in her hand. Dimitri Rollins.

“Hey, that’s one of ours,” the nurse announced, snatching the metal-backed record from her.

They both looked at her, but she had no idea how where she had gotten it. Near panic, she spouted the first lie she thought of. “I was just checking on a patient.”

The nurse studied the chart. “There are orders here for a CT scan stat, but I can’t read who wrote them.”

Richard glanced over. “That’s Sal’s writing.”

Again, they both looked at her for answers she simply didn’t have.

Granted, something nagged at the back of her mind. Like she had forgotten to turn off the stove or lock her car in the Filmore district.

“I didn’t realize we’d asked for an ER consult,” the nurse said with as much condescension as she could pack into the words.

Her fiancé raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure Dr. Calon has her reasons.”

If only she did. Sal wasn’t about to admit she was having some kind of stress-induced blackout, so she kept up the lie. “The mom’s a friend of the family. She asked me to come up and take a look at him.”

While it was clear that the nurse didn’t want to take on Dr. Updike, she also didn’t like an emergency doc treading on her turf. “And I’m supposed to wake up a radiologist for an emergency CT because…?”

Sal ran out of lies, so she told the truth. “I’ve just got this gut feeling.”

Richard smiled, and then turned to the nurse. “Are you really going to risk that she’s right?”

“Fine. I’ll call the attending.”

While the nurse went to schedule a test that Sal didn’t even remember ordering, Richard escorted her down the corridor. As they ran out of hallway, Sal went to open the stairwell door when Richard hit the button to the elevator.

“Since when did you take the stairs?” Richard asked.

For the life of her, Sal didn’t know.

CHAPTER 27

Sal bolted upright in bed, drenched in a cold sweat. Panicked to the point of abject terror, it took a few moments for her to realize that she was in Richard’s bedroom. Next to her, he still slept.

She couldn’t remember a nightmare, yet her heart pounded against her sternum. There was a dread deep in her belly. A sense of doom.

Then she remembered her charts.

Crap! She hadn’t finished them.

How could she have left the hospital with all that paperwork still pending? To the Badger, the only sin greater than killing a patient was leaving your charts unsigned. If Sal had any chance of getting that attending position, Stacy would make sure this oversight cost her dearly. She could just hear Manning’s taunting. The superior tone.

Not if Sal finished the charts before the Badger got in at five. Throwing back the covers, she pulled on a robe and went into Richard’s home office.

Sal might have forgotten her laptop at the hospital, but if she’d left it on, she could network and finish the charts without anyone the wiser.

As Richard’s PC booted up, she looked out over San Francisco. It was so quiet. Peaceful. A fog replaced the rain clouds of yesterday, shrouding the City in a blanket of gray.

How many times after a swing shift would she and Maria go over to Treasure Island and climb up on Indian Rock? As strange as it sounded, the best spot out of all the Bay Area to view the City was sitting atop that huge boulder. Most of those spectacular photos of San Francisco that sold millions of postcards were shot from that vantage point.

In a fog like tonight, the City’s lights would twinkle a surreal yellow. It was so easy to see how George Lucas had soaked up this view, then imagined the cloud city of Bespin for The Empire Strikes Back. No matter how many times they sat up on that rock, Maria would tell her that story.

Then, invariably her friend would launch into a rant over the Ewoks in Return of the Jedi, but those moments were still some of Sal’s most savored.

Ones that would never be repeated.

Tugging her robe tighter over her shoulders, Sal turned her back on the picture window and set about connecting to her laptop. She typed rapidly, accessing the Internet, tapping into the hospital’s network, then onto her laptop’s virtual desktop.

Wasn’t technology grand? She might as well be sitting on that hard metal chair in the residents’ office. Only Richard’s ergonomic mesh chair was far kinder to her bottom.

Rapidly, Sal flipped through her open programs. If memory served her, she had at least another twenty charts to finish typing up.

Sal glanced to the clock. It was only 3:00 a.m. Plenty of time to get the paperwork in order before the Badger arrived at his den to review the night’s work.

However, when she went to call up the unfinished records, there were none. Not a one. Had she screwed up so badly that she didn’t log them properly? If that were the case, she would have to go down to the hospital and complete them by hand.

“Remember.” A widget popped up on the screen.

Sal’s heart sank. Before tears could well, she turned the prompt off.

Since she had little to no social life, the widget could only be reminding her about Maria’s birthday. Because her friend didn’t just have a party on the day, she rocked the house for the full month. Over the past few years, Sal had tried to get more and more creative. For Maria’s thirtieth, they were going to New Orleans.

Sighing, Sal returned her attention to her overdue charts. First, she did an overview of the emergency room’s records to figure out exactly what happened, when she found all forty-three of her charts were signed off.

How could that be?

Clicking on a gallstone patient she knew that she hadn’t finished entering, Sal found the signature stamp.

S.C. Manning.

Stacy. The ice queen had helped her. Not just helped her, but potentially pulled Sal’s ass out of the fire. Who knew she had it in her?

Sitting there, she felt overwhelming relief and irrational anger fight one another. Then tears that she had narrowly fought off spilled over.

Everything came back to her friend, Maria. Even Stacy’s help stemmed from one place. Pity. Pity for Sal’s loss.

As sobs racked her body, Sal realized that maybe Richard had been right. She had gone back to work too soon. She’d tried to fill the gaping void of Maria’s loss with work rather than honest grief. Sal felt bone-weary.

“Remember.”

Sal slammed the widget off. As a matter of fact, if her charts were done, she could completely turn off her laptop. No more horrible reminders of how much she had lost. How much she would miss.

Besides, she didn’t need any intern finding an open Internet portal and charging eight hundred dollar’s worth of porn, like what happened to Yakasuma last year. Closing out the programs, she found one that shouldn’t have been there. An ME’s report. A confidential ME’s report.

Sal certainly hadn’t hacked into the morgue’s files. Who had?

Then she remembered the signature on her charts. S.C. Manning.

Why would Stacy nose around the ME’s files? And how had the resident gotten past the password protection?

Sal didn’t know, but there were autopsy after autopsy reports opened and reviewed. Why would Manning do that? Why risk it?

Another reminder widget popped up. Sal slammed it down. Couldn’t anything go normally? At this point she almost wished she had forgotten her charts. Going down to the hospital would have been easier than trying to figure out Manning’s new game plan. For no matter the kind act that Stacy showed tonight, the resident had an agenda. If these files were worth Manning risking immediate termination, Sal wanted to know why.

It took another few minutes to skim the causes of death to realize the enormity of what lay in those reports. Building one case of idiopathic anemia on top of growing encephalitis, the case grew that San Francisco was in the grip of a new epidemic. To spot this new disease and be the one to report it to the CDC could make your career. Make Stacy’s career.

Another widget flashed. “Remember.”

Sal groaned. Her computer just added insult to injury. Plus, when did she animate the widget? And wasn’t it supposed to say “reminder?”

Whatever, she thought as she brushed past it to check on the ME’s conclusions. Yet the coroner hadn’t correlated all the unusual deaths into a pattern. It was a virgin find.

Torn, Sal stared at the screen. On one hand, Stacy had done her a huge favor by finishing her charts. On the other, the resident had used Sal’s computer to hack into official files for her own career advancement, leaving Sal with all the liability and none of the benefit.

Another “Remember” widget. Sal x-ed out this one, but another just replaced it. Typical. Just when she was on the brink of something really important, her laptop always fritzed.

As if reading her mind, a dozen new widgets popped up. She couldn’t knock them down fast enough. Rapidly, the entire screen filled with them, flashing, almost seeming desperate.

There was nothing left to do but sever the connection. When she hit the Ctrl-Alt-Delete keys, another pop-up sprang to the center of the screen.

“Tyr.”

The name kept expanding until it filled her vision.

CHAPTER 28

The name hit her in the gut—just like that baseball bat had back in the third grade. She’d lain out on the field, gasping for breath, with all the parents circled around as her mother wailed. Sal could acutely remember her childish fear that she would never breathe again. The sense of panic that eclipsed all else. Even conscious thought.

Then her carefully crafted amnesia crashed down, filling her mind with memories best left forgotten. The ache was back, painful and restless.

Painful for Maria. Restless for Tyr.

And for what? She would never see either of them again. Doubled over, she tried to rock away the hurt, but she couldn’t blink without the sight of Maria’s blood-splattered eyes staring to the ceiling or the feel of Tyr’s hand in hers. When she did open her eyes, his name flashed across the screen.

That was it. Her laptop had gone too far. Tomorrow, she was chucking it and buying a Mac. For right now, Sal made it her mission to close each and every one of the reminders, as if erasing them from the screen would seal off the font of pain.

Screen clear of widgets, Sal began closing the autopsy reports. How naïve she’d been just a second ago. San Francisco wasn’t looking at a viral infection, but an epidemic of violence. An outbreak that no medicine of hers could cure.

No matter how many times she tried, the reports simply reappeared.

Over and over again they came back, no matter what keys she hit. The files stared back at her, accusing her, as if Sal hadn’t done enough to stop the deaths. But what could she have done?

So many dead, and if Tyr was right, so many more to come.

Anger rose. Maria was dead. Worse, no detective would ever capture her killer. No jury would ever convict the beast. What prison could hold him? Just the thought of the deep, rumbling roar made her muscles spasm and a desperate urge to run take hold.

Even if a dying baby’s blood held power, could Tyr really kill the beast before it took another black-streaked blonde?

Her hands began to shake as the fear burned itself out, leaving behind only a charred and unyielding sense of helplessness. She would remember this horror for the rest of her life without being about to do anything about it.

Nothing at all. Sal hung her head, defeated. There would never be the chance to put Maria’s spirit to rest.

Forever, she would carry a sense of…

What was on the screen? At the bottom of the page, tiny blue letters shimmered beneath the autopsy reports, asking if she would like to “map it.”

If Sal wasn’t mistaken, ME reports didn’t usually have that feature.

Biting her lip, she moved the mouse over the link. Her rational mind told her it was impossible that her laptop wanted to help her find Maria’s killer. However, if she could accept the beast, in all his horrible glory, her computer’s sentience really wasn’t that hard to swallow.

With a wince, Sal clicked the mouse. Not only did her laptop map the deaths, but with unnatural swiftness it marked each murder site in bright red.

The points formed a spiral. Sal had seen the pattern before. Back in Biology 101. A predator circling its prey. The beast zeroed in on Golden Gate Park.

No wonder the deaths didn’t make any epidemiological sense. It wasn’t a tiny virus doing the killing, but a beast. A creature that coveted something within the park. But what could it need there? She didn’t think the animal cared much for a couple of miles of rollerblading paths, world-class museums, and free outdoor concerts.

With a few keystrokes, Sal brought up the park’s history. Was it a forgotten battleground? What horrible event drew the beast to it?

Unfortunately, the park’s founding and early years were pretty boring. Yes, transforming acres and acres of sandy wasteland into a lush urban playground was a technical feat that would be admirable even now, but not exactly the stuff of dangerous legends.

Where was the blood and horror?

Maybe the beast’s interest was more current than that? Sal scanned the Park’s stats—the number of Pan Handle pickup basketball games, the California Academy of Sciences’ renovation, and the fact that Stow Lake had been reopened to boaters. All of which, as a frequent visitor to the park, she already knew. No, she was going to have to dig deeper.

But wait…

CHAPTER 29

Sal scrolled back up to the list of the Park’s employees. Rodrick Hernandez, Head Groundskeeper. Where did she know that name from? Hadn’t she just read it?

Flipping through the autopsy reports, Sal found the connection. Poor Rodrick was the second-to-last victim. That couldn’t be a coincidence. If they weren’t random, then it meant that there was some purpose behind their selection. Which meant that all of her assumptions had been wrong. She had taken it for granted that the body count had piled up from people in the wrong place at the wrong time, like Maria. What if the beast had not only purpose, but intent as well?

Quickly, she Googled the rest of the names. Sure enough, over half of them were connected to the park. From the first death, a Park tour guide, to the latest victim, who ran the Golden Gate Treasure Hunt, each had become more and more intimately involved with the Park.

Especially this last, a Gregory Hutchinson, or as he preferred, “Hutch the Dutch.” He ran a society, over two thousand members strong, that searched for Golden Gate Park’s lost legacy, its statuary.

Sal studied the Hunt’s website. Golden Gate Park’s patriarchal first superintendent, John McLaren, didn’t feel that man-made art had any place in a natural area. Unfortunately, the City’s elite decided that one very public way to display their Gold Rush wealth was to donate fine art, most of them being sculptures, to the Park. The City Commission, fearful if they declined the gifts they would anger the very citizens that they needed to fund their salaries, just couldn’t say no.

This left the old Scotsman with a quandary that he eloquently solved.

Instead of “throwing” the art out, he elected to “plant” it out. Sure, he would place the donated statues in the park, but then using heavy foliage, McLaren simply overgrew the sometimes massive sculptures, returning them to the earth from which they arose.

To date, the Society had recovered over two hundred pieces of art, but there were still another fifty or so unaccounted for.

While the subject might be fascinating under other circumstances, Sal became frustrated. What in the hell did the beast need with some old marble? Nearly to the end of the document, she found it. Gregory’s last entry in the Treasure Hunt’s blog.

“Greetings, fellow adventurers! It is my proud pleasure to inform you that I am confident that at long last I have determined the grid location of the infamous Emanuel Church murder weapon. Still encrusted with the dead girls’ blood, the small statue of the Archangel Michael was buried by McLaren himself, deep in the park. This weekend I plan to finally unearth this treasure and bring it to light! Keep on digging!—Greg.”

A statue used to bludgeon someone to death, now Sal could see how the beast might be interested in that. With nimble fingers, she brought up a search on the Emanuel Baptist Church murders. The deaths were the work of San Francisco’s purported first serial killer. A medical student, Theo Durrant, seduced, then beat to death, two young churchwomen.

The hideous crime had brought turn-of-the-century San Francisco to a halt. And to have this act against nature occur in a church? The press was sensational enough that it would have given Court TV a run for its money. Even though the murder weapon was never discovered, it only took the jury five minutes to convict Theo and sentence him to death by hanging.

How did the sculpture end up at the Park, then? Following several more links, she found the answer. After the church’s patronage steadily declined after the murders, the Archdiocese closed the sanctuary and sold the property. During the church’s demolition, a workman found the bloodstained statue crammed between two joists.

Now the church had a problem. With Theo long dead, the police had no use for the object, and how could the Archdiocese move the religious icon to another church, so tainted? And destroying it? That was out of the question. Donating the foul icon to the park became the perfect solution.

But where did McLaren bury the statue? She went back to the Treasure Hunters’ site. They usually tracked the lost art by the date of donation and the schedule of plantings. It seemed that McLaren tried to bring more and more complexity to the Park’s ecosystem by constantly introducing new foliage to see what worked best in the sandy soil.

Therefore, Greg and his fellow hunters had focused their search to the areas of the Park in 1916 that were planted with fast-growing species. The technique had proven extremely accurate and accounted for them locating over two hundred other items. However, this time they came up empty. Until this last entry, which implied that Greg had found a new method.

Leaning back, Sal stared at the screen. She might have discovered what the beast was after, but she needed to know the where.

She clicked back to the picture of Mr. McLaren. A stocky immigrant from Scotland, he looked like he had just gotten off the boat from his homeland. Tweed jacket and cap, with a tartan vest, the Park supervisor seemed the pragmatic sort. Then why hadn’t he followed his usual pattern and buried the statue under the fastest-growing foliage?

A smile spread as Sal zoomed in on the highlander’s walking stick. The handle sported a meticulously carved Uriusg, a half-man, half-goat creature. Sal recognized it, since the Welsh equivalent were the Bendith, fickle fairies who could bless crops or blight your fields. Her father had told her bedtime fables of how you either made peace with their folk, or suffered the consequences. The Uriusg were the same, only they inhabited forests rather than meadows.

So McLaren not only carried the infamous Scottish pragmatism with him on his journey to the new land, but he brought his people’s superstitions as well. If he thought the statue to be evil, he might turn to his folklore to counteract its effect. Rapidly, Sal researched Scottish plants and their mythical properties.

The Bourtree popped out at her. It was a type of elderberry that reportedly had great protective powers to banish evil. McLaren couldn’t have wished for a better omen.

She went back to the Park’s exhaustive horticultural index. There, on page seventy-eight, she found the entry. Plant: Bourtree. Quantity: one. Quadrant: 16-A49.

Flipping to the Park’s detailed map, she found a little cross marking where it had been planted.

Sal knew the statue’s final resting place.

Though the real question became, did the beast?

CHAPTER 30

Sal crept across the sprawling greenbelt that surrounded the Stow Lake Boathouse. Mist clung to her and somehow seeped through three layers of clothes. The fog moved in thick swirls in a slow, sensual ritual, as if it sought to seduce the ground beneath it.

At times it was so thick that the world became nothing more than a gray canvas. When the fog did thin, the full moon overhead cast a silvery light that nearly matched an overcast day. She used these sparse moments to check her footing. The dewy grass was slick, and her cross-trainers weren’t meant for nighttime stealth.

Damp and scared, her impulsive plan to warn Tyr of the beast’s plan felt foolhardy. In her urgency to intercept Tyr and relay all that she had learned, Sal had forgotten the vastness of the Park, how jungle-like it became after dark. Forget about the beast, there were real muggers here, just waiting to prey on the lone jogger.

Yet here she was, sneaking into the Park, angling toward the boathouse, the only structure even close to the bourtree. Ever since parking Richard’s SUV on Fulton Avenue, her bold plan felt more and more ludicrous. How could she think to outwit the beast and his hunter?

Heady with the thrill of deciphering the beast’s plan, she had snuck into the closet, grabbed Richard’s hiking pack, and then taken the SUV keys while he slept. She left a note blaming her unwritten charts for her absence, in case he awoke. Which Sal hoped he didn’t, since she wasn’t quite sure how she would explain the grass stains and soaked sweater.

Slowing, she approached the boathouse. It was mainly used to store paddleboats, a traditional San Franciscan family pastime. During the summer, if you wanted to hear the excited squeal of children and the corresponding laughter of parents, you came to Stow Lake. Now there was only the hush of the swirling fog, sending out its tendrils between her legs, seeming a thick carpet before her, only to disperse with each footfall.

She tried the boathouse’s side door. Locked. She tested a window.

Locked as well. The only cover left was a breezeway protecting a bunch of stacked barrels. Sal shimmied between them, holding her breath at the crinkle of the plastic tarp.

Sal stopped abruptly, heart pounding in her ears, trying to wish the sound away. Had anyone, make that anything, heard her? It took a few heartbeats for her to compose herself and tackle the tarp again. After several more panicked starts and stops, she was finally hidden. Tugging back a tiny corner of the tarp, Sal looked to the west, to the bourtree.

She couldn’t make out the individual tree amongst the oaken forest that spread out before her, but she had memorized its location from the Park’s map. She had even used Richard’s electronic compass to confirm her calculations.

The elder tree with its gruesome secret was located over that rise and deep within a grove of century-old oaks. Had she been braver she might have followed the compass out into that woods to see for herself, but Sal remembered her panic last night in the burgundy hallway. The fear that knocked her knees together. Even thinking about the beast’s growl made her lips quiver. No, the boathouse would do just fine.

That was when she heard a low, warning growl. Her body flattened against the boathouse’s wall. Sal could feel the tongue-and-groove structure against her back. The rough, unfinished wood pushed through her sweater. If only she could will herself through the barrier.

For the beast approached.

CHAPTER 31

It had never occurred to Sal that the beast would still be in the vicinity. For some reason, she had assumed it would already be acres away, deep within the oaken forest, hunting its prize. But she could hear him.

And feel him, for his guttural language spoke directly to her belly. It entangled her intestines, knotting them until she felt ready to burst. Despite the fact she couldn’t see the beast yet, the gray, neutral fog had taken on a sickly red pall. The beast neared, step- by-step, closer to her hiding place.

Sal tried to hold her breath, but fought a losing battle. An exhale and sharp inhale brought it another step closer. The beast’s path led right past the boathouse. She had no illusions that the tarp could keep her hidden from him. He was a beast after all, on a hunt, only now she would become his prey. A little snack before he claimed his prize.

Ever so carefully, Sal tried to back away, putting the boathouse between her and the beast, when a hand wrapped around her neck.

“Silence,” Tyr hissed.

She might hate the man’s edicts, but Sal felt glad that her breath no longer rattled like a reed in the wind. She also appreciated that the crackle of the plastic had vanished, leaving only the quiet murmuring of the lake. Sal knew she couldn’t speak, but what else would she say besides “thank you”?

The red glow grew until it filled her vision, then Tyr shifted his weight, blocking her view. No, he wasn’t blocking her view, but the beast’s. His wide frame all but concealed her. Their bodies crushed together as his hand rested up her neck. Their rib cages moved as one.

Sal wasn’t sure if it was better or worse that she could hear the beast’s movements so near, yet not see him. The creature drew so close that she could feel his breath washing over them in hot waves. Then the beast paused, sniffing at the air. Only inches away. Those claws surely ready to strike them down. To let their blood.

Could Tyr’s Praxis really keep them safe?

Her heart raced, yet there was no external evidence of her panic.

A moist footfall. Red light bathed the barrels. How could the beast not see them?

Tyr pulled her even closer, pressing her cheek against his chest. Sal didn’t resist being swallowed by his presence. The leather, sweat, and musk were now hers as well. His hand cradled her head, seeking to protect her, but what good would it really do if the beast attacked?

What protection could his flesh serve against the beast’s claws?

CHAPTER 32

A snort from the beast straightened her spine to the point of pain. Did the sound indicate an action of resolve, or frustration?

Then the moist heat moved on. At first a step at a time, then a heavy trot, until the reddened glow died off altogether. As Tyr released his hold, Sal braved a glance toward the west. With unnatural speed, the beast’s glow disappeared into the thick of the oaks.

She turned to ask how the beast could move so quickly, but found Tyr’s jaw clenched. Fury played across his chiseled features. Back in Richard’s den, she had imagined a very different reunion. Like Tyr would actually be grateful for her help rather than chastising her.

“Have you misplaced your senses?” Tyr demanded. “I used your blood upon my blade.”

Sal could only shrug. Tyr’s silence command still held her throat.

Tyr’s tone dropped as deep as the beast’s growl. “You have marked him,” he said, staring into her eyes. “Do you understand?”

She struggled to speak, but couldn’t.

Tyr seemed to realize that his edict still held sway. “Speak.”

“So he… he knows my scent?” She stuttered out, her throat still not sure it could work properly. How did Praxis like that work? Did Tyr convince her brain that she had no voice, or did it impair her vocal cords? Such things were easier to think of than Tyr’s frustration.

“You are a part of him. He can sense you.” Tyr ground his teeth. “I used the last of his blood to mask your presence.”

Sal could sense that the situation was far worse than his words implied.

“I don’t understand.”

“Then you shouldn’t have fought my command,” Tyr hissed.

Sal couldn’t help but sound tinny and defensive. “I didn’t, damn it. It was the laptop.” Her voice gained strength, as he looked confused. “The scrying box you awoke. It awoke me.”

She watched his shoulders slump, the anger gone out of his posture.

“It made me remember everything, because it recognized a pattern to the deaths.” Tyr’s expression gave her no clue whether he understood or not. She continued, “And from there, I think… I… I think I figured out where the beast is headed.”

“The beast has no purpose. It hunts and feeds.”

That was Tyr’s mistake. Just like she had underestimated her laptop, he was woefully ignorant of the beast’s capability.

“Then how do you think I found you?”

For the first time, surprise registered on Tyr’s face. He opened his mouth, but as if he were under the silence command, he simply shut it again.

“He wasn’t tearing through the City haphazardly. The deaths were leading him to a statue. One used in a gruesome murder nearly a century ago. It is buried among those oaks under an elder tree.”

Tyr’s face clouded. “Those killed, were they women?”

“Yes,” she answered, but wasn’t sure why that mattered.

“Did they trust the man who killed them? Did they love him?”

“I guess. I mean, Theo was courting them. That’s how he lured them to the church, under the guise of a marriage proposal.”

Tyr stumbled back, his words barely a whisper. “It cannot be.”

“I don’t see the significance.”

Tyr seemed beyond her words, lost in his own thoughts.

Finally, when he did speak it was with a tone as soft as the fog nestled around them. “To leave one’s time is not a simple thing, but if you have the knowledge, you need only have the blood of bitter grief.”

He looked up into her eyes. “But to go back? To find your exact place along the axis of the stars… that you need the blood of not only one with the purest love, but of one who has been betrayed by that very love. You must collect the essence in that singular moment, when the heart is torn asunder.”

Sal began to comprehend why the beast coveted the sculpture. She had thought he wished it for the horror, but its desire was much more complicated than that.

Strength infused his voice again. “He must not be allowed such power.”

CHAPTER 33

As direct as Tyr’s words were, his body seemed conflicted. A brewing storm clouded his normally crystalline eyes. A struggle raged within. What a titan battle it must be. She could feel duty clash with desire.

His feet wished to carry him to battle, yet something rooted him in place.

Sal waited but couldn’t take his pained gaze any longer.

“Follow the arrow until it matches up with this number.” She pointed to the Bourtree coordinates on the GPS device. “He’ll be there.”

Their skin touched as the electronic compass changed hands. His hand lingered over hers. “You have faced grave danger to bring me this tiding, and I have no right to ask…”

She fought answering, knowing that she would lose.

“Anything,” Sal whispered into the mist, blaming his insidious tone for making her forget the rest of the world and her responsibilities within it.

Tyr’s hand returned to his knife pommel. “You have given of your blood, and now your knowledge, I can ask no more.”

Before Sal could convince him that he could, in fact, ask for much more, Tyr turned and set off at a full run toward the woods. Sal reached out but caught only wisps of fog. As the overhang dripped dew, she watched him disappear into the forest.

Sal knew that she should leave as well. With the beast so near and her scent in his nostrils, it wasn’t safe to stay, but her legs were leaden. Instead of heading to her car, she sat down on a barrel, not even caring about the loud crackle it produced.

The thought of getting into the SUV and driving back to Richard’s house felt so wrong. As though her real life had become incomprehensible. How Sal wished that she could blame it all on Maria’s death, but she knew better. True, she had lost much last night. But equally true, she had gained something almost as valuable.

These brief encounters with Tyr had awakened a desire. Not just physical desire. That, his leather and stubble had evoked easily, but a deeper hunger. A desire to live. Really live. Not to walk through life struggling to just make it to another day, hoping no one would notice that she wasn’t happy. Her real life had become nothing more than a boring interlude until Tyr sent her heart beating again.

In his presence, the fog became a living creature. The dark was not just the absence of light, but a keeper of secrets. With him gone, the world lost its sharp focus. Granted, she had always been an adrenaline junkie. All emergency jockeys were. How else did you handle the long, excruciating hours vacillating between pure boredom and sheer exhilaration? But this was different. It wasn’t a high. A pipe you took a hit off of. Their shared quest was the very air. Without it, she felt that a part of herself would die.

Tyr’s words echoed in her mind. “You have given of your blood, and now your knowledge.” So in some small way, she had helped him. Helped him challenge Maria’s killer. She could take some small comfort in that.

“Your blood and now your knowledge.”

Sal stood up abruptly.

Blood and knowledge. Anemia and encephalitis.

Her mind spun. She knew that the anemia had a purpose. Praxis. The beast needed blood to accomplish larger tasks that edicts alone couldn’t perform. But what did the brain swelling indicate? And why the shift in focus from blood to brain?

Why cause encephalitis when you wanted to know a statue’s location? With sudden clarity, Sal realized that the beast had never been hunting for blood. Instead, he needed what they held in their brains. Thoughts. Memories.

Dear God, the beast hadn’t tortured the information from his victims—he’d sucked a different form of essence from their gray matter. Not only that, but he was getting better and better, based on the autopsy reports. With each death, the anemia was less and the encephalitis worse. Like an intern learning how to place a Swan-Ganz catheter, the beast perfected his technique to pull knowledge from his victims.

But only half of them were related to the Park. Had those other deaths just been practice? Or had they been…

Her thoughts raced faster than her heart could keep up. Tyr hadn’t yet conceived that the statue might be only a single piece of a much more complex puzzle.

Damn, but she missed her laptop. Beyond its search engine, she needed its intuition. Its guidance. For that, she needed an Internet connection. While there were several museums in the Park, they had their own high-tech security systems. Sal didn’t think she could just stop by and borrow a terminal. No, she needed somewhere accessible and close.

Sal rubbed the grime off the boathouse window and spied inside. A little CPU was hidden in the far back corner. Given that it looked like a DOS model, she hoped it at least had dial-up. DSL seemed a little too much to ask for.

Which brought her to her next problem. She had already tried the doors and even the windows—and had found them locked.

But had she asked them to open?

Just as Tyr told her to “ask” the laptop, Sal closed her eyes and laid her hand upon the knob. Ever so nicely, she asked, “Please open.”

A jolt stung her palm as the knob turned, then caught.

“Come on, come on,” she urged, but the knob refused to go any further. Pissed, she jangled the door, hard. “Don’t do this to me!”

Apparently, yelling didn’t enhance her Praxis, since the lock held. What had she been thinking? Like she could pull a “Tyr.” He held a doctorate in Praxis, but it was her first day in kindergarten.

No matter her skill level, Sal still needed to get inside the boathouse.

She looked inside to find the little plastic latch closed tightly. The lock appeared so flimsy, yet it held the window firmly in place. She could use her elbow, smash a pane of glass, unlatch it, and be inside.

Too bad that plan didn’t take into consideration that Sal had her professional license to think about. It was one thing to sneak out in the middle of night for a surreal rendezvous. It was quite another to actually break the law.

Felony B&E wasn’t surreal. It was real with real-life consequences. A conviction could affect her license to practice medicine. The thought of losing that part of herself made her shrink away from the window.

Leaving wasn’t any more appetizing of an option. Something else very real had happened. People had died. Lots of them, and Tyr needed every advantage to stop the carnage. That’s where she and this window came to their little impasse.

Tyr could easily open the window. With a simple word and nudge with his voice, the pane would slide open. She doubted something this easy would even require blood. He may have called his skill Praxis, but it seemed so effortless that it appeared to be magic.

Taking a second, Sal thought of that word and its implication. What was magic? Didn’t remote tribesmen think a cigarette lighter magic? Advanced enough science always seemed magical. Just because she didn’t know how her television worked didn’t make it supernatural.

She was a scientist, and she needed to start thinking like one. What did she instruct her freshmen students to do when they felt overwhelmed by the width and breadth of medicine? Take the problem apart piece by piece. Break everything down into its smallest possible units. Observe the whole, but concentrate on the mechanism beneath.

Her mind raced to remember all the times Tyr had used his Praxis.

While he had asked, it wasn’t necessarily nicely. It was firm. A single word, spoken with clarity. When directed at her, she could remember the feel of his intent on her skin, ringing in her ears, in her head.

Most times he used his voice, but for others, he used blood. The office door he opened with a word, but with the NICU doors, he needed to smash a vial first. Was he augmenting his power? Using it like a Red Bull? Those NICU doors were not only locked, but pressure-locked—a much more complicated mechanism, which seemed to require that extra caffeine jolt.

Sal looked at the window again. She felt certain that it didn’t want her to break it, and Lord knew she didn’t want to. With the soft mists caressing her skin and the eerie quiet of the lake, Sal believed she just might be able to work some magic herself.

Placing her palms against the glass, Sal closed her eyes and concentrated on how badly she didn’t want to go to jail, and how much she would appreciate the window opening, but when she spoke, Sal made sure to use the same authoritative tone she used when scolding a tardy intern.

“Open.”

She opened her eyes to find the window just as shut as it was before.

With a sigh, Sal realized that she was going to have to do it the hard way.

Turning her head, Sal lifted her elbow to smash the pane, when she heard a creak. Panicked, she swung around. Had the beast somehow returned? For all her fear, nothing seemed amiss.

Quieting her nerves, Sal took a deep breath. The Park prided itself on its rich wildlife. It was probably just a stray possum or raccoon. Nothing to make her heart rate jump 37 percent.

Regrouping, she faced the window again. It had been hard enough to screw up the courage the first time to break it. Now she felt even more hesitant. Then she noticed the sill. Was there a slight crack between the wood and the frame? Testing the window, it gave, sliding open easily.

Sal snatched her hand away. She knew the window had been locked.

She saw it locked. Felt it locked. But here it was open.

Reaching out, she touched the glass again. “Thanks.”

What else did you say to a window?

CHAPTER 34

After searching for the little computer’s power switch hidden all the way behind the cabinet, interfacing the boathouse’s CPU with her laptop was no big thing. As if her computer already knew what was on her mind, it brought up the autopsies. It even had the Google search on top, just waiting for her to enter the other half of the names.

Sal resisted jumping to conclusions, but just three names deep into the list, and she found the link. Each of the dead was related to the San Francisco State University physics department.

As the screen responded as quickly as her fingers could fly, Sal checked the rest of the names. Building a timeline, she found that the victims had a more and more intimate connection to the school and especially to the Quantum Physics Experimental Research Laboratory.

What the beast wanted there, Sal couldn’t fathom, but just like Tyr’s visceral reaction to the statue, she was certain he would know why the beast had an interest in a particle accelerator.

The problem was, this information could tip the balance of their covert war, or it could be nothing more than a Cliffs Note to Tyr. She knew too little of their conflict to gauge the weight of what she had found.

Sal looked out toward the forest. The hushed landscape seemed so peaceful, yet she knew a battle stirred amongst the woods. She could still feel the tiny hairs on her arms standing on end, trembling with fear as the beast passed. The growl that made her want to bolt as quickly and as far away as possible, yet held her firmly in place. Every earthly instinct told her not to go out there, but she felt drawn to the bourtree.

Despite all that she had seen Tyr accomplish, Sal still had serious reservations that he had the capacity to end the beast’s threat tonight. When he had set off into the woods, there had been a slump to the man’s shoulders that belied a fear that he wasn’t up to the task. The pain in his voice as he struggled to ask her his unspoken question. Tyr hadn’t even known why the beast was in the Park. How could he emerge victorious, yet so ill informed?

The more her mind lingered on the subject, the more convinced she became that Tyr needed to know about the physics laboratory. She should run right out there and tell him.

Yeah, right.

But if she didn’t join Tyr now, how could she ever find him? Sure, she could stake out the physics lab, hoping they ended up there, but what if the beast arrived first again? Would she be as lucky as she had been tonight?

A tingling in her fingers brought her attention back to the computer, or more accurately, her laptop. A dozen widgets filled the tiny twelve-inch screen.

“Now.”

That made no sense, though.

“Why?” she asked as she went to type in the question, but her laptop responded before she even entered the h.

“Now.”

Clearly, the laptop had picked up on Tyr’s brevity. It also hadn’t led her astray. Although it was a little disconcerting that her laptop had figured out such a vital clue.

“Why?” she asked again, not bothering to type.

“Smell.”

“What?” Then she sniffed her sweater. She smelled Tyr’s musk, but also the acrid odor of the beast. Tyr had placed the foul creature’s scent upon her, masking her own. It had kept her safe when she was but inches from the beast. Sal wasn’t sure how long it would last, but according to her laptop’s urgency, delaying only put her at greater risk.

Sal snorted. Who was she kidding? Who in his or her right mind would rush off into those woods, unarmed? To venture into those oaks was quite possibly the stupidest thing she had ever considered.

So stupid, Maria would have been proud.

CHAPTER 35

If the grounds around the boathouse had been creepy, the forest was downright terrifying. She suppressed a shudder as a breeze shifted the fog, swaying leaves overhead. Branches scraped against one another.

The sound reminded Sal of her days in med school. Some idiot guys, the slacker geniuses of her class, had decided it would be funny to rig the skeletons that lined the anatomy class so they creaked when the lights were extinguished for a film. Sal had been proud she wasn’t one of those girls who had run screaming from the room, but that didn’t mean that she hadn’t been scared out of her mind.

The sound of bone against bone. She’d had nightmares for weeks. And now she was living it. The trees might not be a danger, but what stalked these woods could end her life in a single, casual stroke.

Fists clenched, she kept her pack’s straps tight against her shoulders. It held only a bottle of water, waterproof matches, and a Swiss Army knife. Though none of those things would help her battle the beast, the weight of the pack gave her a strange measure of security.

Perhaps it was just her fear warping her thought process, but Sal felt like she wasn’t alone. Like the pack accompanied her as a companion rather than just an object.

Maybe Tyr was rubbing off on her.

Stopping, Sal searched the terrain. Neither the beast nor Tyr had tried to conceal their tracks. She could easily follow the large paw prints deep into the woods, especially since there was no other traffic on the forest floor. It seemed no one else had reason to venture this deep within the oaken forest. But who would? The woods were given so far over to nature that the sickly sweet odor of detritus made the air heavier. It was harder to breathe. Carried by the moist fog, she could taste the rotting plants underfoot.

So on this spongy covering, the beast’s four prints were a stark disruption. Right next to them were the depressions from Tyr’s boots. Even to her untrained eye, Sal could tell that his footprints were much deeper than the beast’s. He was running faster, pushing harder into the earth, trying to catch up.

His urgency made her gulp. Tyr could rush into danger. He knew what he was doing. Sal still wasn’t quite sure what had gotten her out here, yet she continued one foot after the other. She paused every third step—to worry if the latest startling sound spelled her doom, or was simply a sound of the night. She would steel her nerves and then take another two steps before panic halted her again.

As she stumbled on yet another bramble or thorny bush, Sal regretted her choice of shoes. Her ankles would have appreciated the protection afforded by her hiking boots. But that would have meant that she knew that she would be heading out into the gloomy woods. An hour ago, she would have laughed at such a notion.

Sal also regretted the fact that she hadn’t taken the time to really study the schematic of Golden Gate Park more closely. This section of the forest was just a large green swath across the online map. The coordinates were almost dead center within the woods, but she had no idea how far that meant in footsteps. Looking back into the thick bank of fog, she didn’t have any idea how far she had actually come or how far she had to go.

Crouching amongst the prickly shrubs, Sal peered forward. Was that the faintest red glow? Could the beast be over that next ridge? Did she have the courage to climb over and see?

Surely, he would hear her coming. Between the gray fog carpet hiding the forest floor, and the multitude of leaves, branches, and twigs littering the ground, she couldn’t see how he wouldn’t hear her. Unfortunately, where the beast dwelled, so did Tyr.

With much more care, Sal took a step forward, yet she still crunched an acorn underfoot. If only she had Tyr’s “silence” command at her disposal.

She paused. If she could open a lock, could she quiet her footfalls?

Not letting doubt creep into her voice, she whispered, “Silence,” into the thick fog, but she felt no different. When Tyr uttered such a phrase, Sal sensed a subtle pressure pushing against her, holding any noise close to her body, extinguishing it against her flesh. If anything, after she gave the same command, she felt exposed, not cocooned.

Delaying wasn’t clearing the path before her, so she took another step.

Sal heard a twig snap beneath her shoe with a loud pop. So much for silence. Much more cautiously, Sal nudged the path to avoid any noise-causing debris. Still, her shoes squished in the unblemished loam. With each step, the loosely packed moss and dirt sucked upward, then when she moved on, it fell back to the earth. Who knew how loud moisture could be?

Shifting strategies, Sal tried to follow in Tyr’s previous tracks, but the strides were too far apart, she would have to leap from one to the next.

Near tears, Sal bit her lip. Would Maria really be dinking around, startling at every little twig snap? Gritting her teeth, she took a purposeful step forward, then another. To her ears, she created a discordant cacophony of sound, but nothing jumped out of the brush at her. Another few strides, and she realized that the fog helped muffle her movements. Who needed the “silence” command when nature was on her side?

Much more boldly, Sal headed straight for the reddened horizon.

CHAPTER 36

As she crept up the last rise, Sal’s world filled with a kaleidoscope of reds. Even her white knuckles appeared to have a ruddy sunburn. She’d felt this wash of burgundy before.

The beast was near.

The sound of his digging filled the forest. His frustrated growls made her bowels want to empty. To think that this primordial anger could be turned in her direction. Despite her urgency, feeling that gnawing rumble in her gut gave her pause.

Sal hesitated to crest the sharp ridge to enter the valley below. Such varied topography was a reminder of the Park’s origins. This calf-challenging hill had been one of the hundreds of shifting sand dunes that made up the western wasteland of San Francisco. It was hard to imagine such desolation while nestled amongst a tangle of blackberry bushes, but somehow beneath the thick topsoil, Sal could feel the impatient sand.

Then a cry pierced the still air. Tyr’s challenge.

A keening roar. The beast’s answer.

So, no matter how she badly wanted to stay hidden behind the shrubbery, Sal followed the narrow trail down the ridge to the bourtree’s wide valley. The statue should be buried at the lowest point. Which, given the ruby hue of the beast’s position, proved her suspicions true.

As the clash of steel and claw rang through the air, Sal gained speed.

The brambles cut and scraped her, but somehow didn’t hurt.

A scream. Oh God! A human scream.

No longer concerned about the trail, Sal made her own. Crashing down the slope, Sal slipped and slid as she reached the valley floor. Slamming into an oak as wide as a refrigerator, Sal felt faint. Bracing herself against the stout wood, she waited as her ears rang and her vision blurred. She put a hand to her scalp and found it intact. So it wasn’t blood clouding her vision, as the fog before her blazed red.

Tyr stumbled into view. Blood gushed down his sleeve as he struggled to keep his footing in the moist underbrush. Clearly he had lost sight of the beast, swinging from right to left, trying to get his bearings.

Then she saw it. The beast stalked Tyr from behind. God, it was bigger than she had remembered. It had the size of a bear but the lithe form of a jaguar, as its muscles bunched for an ambush.

“Tyr!” she screamed, only no sound came out. Yet Tyr, for a fraction of a second, turned toward her. And that was enough of a distraction.

The beast charged. Somehow Tyr twisted around, but an ankle gave out from under him. Knife raised above his head, he fell to one knee. Using his left hand to catch himself, his injured right arm just didn’t have the strength to repel the beast’s next blow. His claws raked across Tyr’s chest, staining his white shirt crimson.

“No!” she cried, but again her throat uttered no sound. The beast seemed oblivious to her presence as he took another broad swipe at Tyr.

He barely knocked the attacker aside, but had to drop to both knees to accomplish even that. The beast’s mottled brown coat bristled in the red glow. A tail swished his displeasure.

The man kneeling before him was nothing more than a gnat to be swatted away.

Tyr shook his head sharply, sending a spray of blood from his head wound as he tried to clear his vision.

Sal had to help. But how? She only had a bottle of water, waterproof matches, and a Swiss Army knife. The beast was all sinew and muscle as it stalked a weakened Tyr.

Then it leapt. Tyr tried to deflect the brunt of the attack, but fell backward, hitting his head. Hard. His arm arced his knife, but only glanced the beast’s flank. A sharp hiss proved the wound only annoyed the creature.

Tyr valiantly tried to rise, but the beast spun with unnatural speed and dealt a keening blow. Tyr tumbled over, rolling down a small knoll. When his momentum stopped, he just lay there. Motionless.

Get up. Sal begged silently. Get up.

But Tyr didn’t.

CHAPTER 37

In a single leap, the beast landed near Tyr’s feet, but still the man didn’t move. It swatted Tyr’s leg, drawing blood, but Tyr didn’t move. Clearly the beast feared an ambush, for it circled Tyr, guffing as it strode.

Please let Tyr be baiting a trap, she begged, but the longer she stared at his unmoving form, the more he seemed unconscious. That last blow had, at the least, knocked the wind from him, and at the worst, fractured his skull. The pool of blood gathering at his temple didn’t improve his prognosis.

If… no, when the beast attacked, Tyr would be killed.

But what could she do? Even if she went out there, she’d just be the appetizer to Tyr’s main course. She only had a bottle, waterproof matches, and a Swiss Army knife. The list didn’t sound any better no matter how many times she reviewed it.

The beast paused its prowling to sniff the air. Slowly, he turned the rippling muscles of his neck toward her. Sal ducked deeper within the underbrush. Was the scent masking her wearing off?

She peeked through the thick blackberry leaves. He raised his head in profile, taking in deep breaths. God, could they be lucky enough to have the beast delay his deadly attack until Tyr roused? Sal tried to wish that thought into being, but the beast turned back to his fallen prey.

Think, Calon, think. You took freaking zoology for a reason. What survival strategies did prey species use when faced with a bigger, more ferocious predator? Then she remembered sophomore avian studies. The plover. It faked a broken wing to lure predators away from its nest.

Sal might not be able to face the beast head-on, but could she pull off a plover maneuver? Could she trick the beast away from Tyr?

Her own scent clearly wasn’t strong enough to distract it. The beast’s covering scent worked against her plan. Or not. Because if he truly caught her in his nostrils, she couldn’t run fast enough to escape. She needed to find a way to leave a false trail.

But she only had the water, the matches, and the knife.

The beast strode over to Tyr, confident his prey wasn’t playing possum. He raised a mighty claw.

Damn it! She wasn’t going to be fast enough—or smart enough—to save Tyr. With the ever-expanding pool of blood at Tyr’s head, the beast might not even have to finish him.

Blood.

Knife.

Letting instinct take over, she pulled the blade from the pack and nicked her wrist. It wasn’t as expert a wound as Tyr’s, but blood welled none the same.

Sal peered through the brambles. The beast hesitated, sniffing again.

Good. She’d gotten his attention. Ever so carefully, she let a single drop of blood fall to the ground.

A low growl.

Backing the way she came, Sal allowed another plump drop to land on the loam. She could no longer see the beast, but his glow did not diminish.

He must be following the trail, leaving Tyr. At least that’s what she had to believe as she hurried her pace, letting only an occasional drop saturate the mossy ground. She didn’t want to leave too good a trail.

Even so, the fog seemed ignited with fire, pulsing with the beast’s breath. He was gaining ground, and gaining it quickly.

Shit. Sal’d forgotten the mother plover had a plan to ditch her predator. She could just fly away.

If Sal didn’t figure out how to escape the beast, and figure it out fast, Tyr wouldn’t be the only one to die tonight.

CHAPTER 38

Crouched tight, Sal willed her lungs to hold in the air. The beast stalked forward, nose to the ground. It was sure to find her. Her plan, her lame plan, wasn’t going to work. Not with the air a thousand shades of crimson. The beast was close enough that the musky odor of fur and sweat filled her nose. There wasn’t a part of her world that wasn’t filled by him.

The beast’s walk transformed into a confident trot as the blood drops came closer and closer together. With the rich scent of the blood that had whetted Tyr’s blade in his nostrils, his trot quickened into a lope. Muscles rippled under his taut skin as the beast made its final charge forward.

Splashing right into Stow Lake.

A startled growl escaped the beast’s lips as he jumped out of the water, shaking his paws like a cat that fell in the sink. It might have been cute, except for the five-inch claws that extended from those soaked paws.

Sal pressed against the Band-Aid covering her wrist wound. She didn’t want any lingering scent from the nick to lead the beast to the far side of the boathouse where she was hidden.

Her gamble had paid off. The false trail into the water had given the beast pause. He vented his frustration by pacing along the shoreline. Sal backed away carefully and made for the tree line.

Phase one of the grand plan had worked, but now she had to find Tyr and get him up and out of the valley before the beast decided to come back for his main course. The concerned doctor within the panicked woman knew that the greatest danger to Tyr wasn’t necessarily the beast.

He could be dying six different ways from the injuries he had already sustained: sub-epidural hematoma, shock, brain swelling.

And her water, matches, and knife weren’t going to cut it. She needed a CAT scan. As she doubled back on her trail, the going was much faster. The path had been trampled enough that her tennis shoes had some purchase. Winded, with calves screaming, she was up the hill and down the ridge within minutes. Angling to the left, Sal pushed through the brush to the small ravine.

She stumbled to a halt. The small, grassy depression was empty.

Where was Tyr?

CHAPTER 39

Had she gotten lost? Panting, she swung from side to side. It looked like the right clearing, but how many of these little meadows were there?

Then Sal heard a groan. Pain mixed with determination.

“Tyr!” Her voice still didn’t work, but it felt good to yell. It gave her something to do besides panic.

There was no response, so she followed the sound deeper into the woods. Sal would have passed right by Tyr if he hadn’t startled and swung around, his knife at the ready.

Tyr appeared as feral as the beast. Blood matted his thick brown hair to the side of his face, his normally blue eyes blood-streaked and wild.

“It’s me,” she coaxed, knowing he couldn’t hear her, but hoping it could calm him anyway.

Finally his eyes focused, and, hand trembling, Tyr lowered the weapon.

She rushed to his side, but he brusquely shoved her away.

“Enough of you.”

The words sapped whatever strength he had left. Tyr sagged against the tree, barely able to hold up his own weight.

A frustrated roar echoed in the distance.

Sal felt panic rise, but Tyr gritted his teeth. “Let him come.”

His words were full of confidence. Too bad he could barely hold up his knife. They needed to get out of here—like now. But where? In the gray world of the fog, it was hard to get her bearings. Sal turned in what she hoped was due north. North toward Fulton Avenue. To her car. And if not her car, toward traffic. Where there was traffic, there was help.

She urged him forward, but Tyr sneered as he wiped the black blood from his knife, preparing for battle anew. His instincts weren’t grounded in reality, though. From the pallor of his skin, Sal knew he would never survive. The beast would swat him down like a fly.

How to convince Tyr of that, without a voice? Sal pointed to her neck, then pantomimed. A look passed over his face, but was so quickly replaced by his usual annoyance, that Sal couldn’t determine the origin.

“Place your palm to your throat.”

Doing as he asked, she tried hard not to fidget. Gaze harsh and unyielding, his touch was surprisingly gentle as he settled his hand over hers. “We must speak the command together.”

Upon his nod, they both uttered, “Speak.”

A mighty roar shook the tree branches so hard that leaves rained down upon them like rain. She needed to find another way to convince him.

“We need to get you another weapon. A bigger weapon,” she croaked, as she adjusted to generating a voice again.

Tyr’s wrist flicked the knife with practiced ease. “This shall serve.”

“Really?” Her mind raced. She couldn’t just bullshit him. Where could they find a weapon and help? Where in Golden Gate Park could—

“The museum,” Sal exclaimed. Against his objection, she tugged him to the east. “They’ve got swords and shields and chain mail!”

The fog had taken on a scarlet cast. “Do you want to beat him, or not?” Not waiting for his answer, Sal yanked Tyr from his rooted stance. Only this time, he didn’t balk.

An angry, hungry bellow chased upon their heels.

CHAPTER 40

They burst from the tree line and hit a paved road. JFK Drive. Sal hadn’t gotten them lost. With the air around them a fiery red, she had thought they could pick up the pace, but Tyr lagged. Was he considering trying to stand and fight?

When Sal glanced over, she realized that his left arm was tucked tight against his body, and with very step, he winced. Her doctor instinct was correct. Tyr was far more injured than he would admit. At this speed, she worried that they wouldn’t make it to the museum before the beast caught up with them.

Where in the hell was Park security? She might have lured Tyr to the museum with a promise of swords and shields, but she was more interested in the cameras and guns.

A trio of lights up ahead. Finally!

If they had to get arrested breaking into the de Young Museum of Fine Arts to achieve safety, so be it. Without hesitating, Sal guided Tyr past the seashell-shaped amphitheater, cutting through the groove of eucalyptus.

Damn it! Didn’t anybody see them? Weren’t there exterior cameras?

With the air’s growing ruddiness increasing by the second, they hit the walkway to the copper-lined museum at a dead run. She ignored the lines of palm trees and the pond with a murmuring fountain in its center. Those decorations wouldn’t help them against the beast.

They would reach the huge glass entryway within seconds. The guards couldn’t miss two people pounding on their front door, but Tyr grabbed her arm.

“Did you not hear that?”

What could she hear above her own panting?

They were so close to those gleaming front doors, but Tyr diverted them to the right. Following the smooth metal wall, they headed toward the back of the museum. If she could trust her memory, as her head swam from exertion, the loading dock wasn’t far.

As they rounded the corner, the museum’s four-story tower thrust up through the fog. Not even the bright floodlights could illuminate the top floor. Avoiding the matching copper benches, they skidded around the corner.

A flood of light greeted them.

Not only did they find the loading docks, but an early morning shipment must have arrived, because a huge truck was backed up to the loading ramp.

An entire array of security lights glared down on the area.

For the first time since seeing Tyr go down, Sal felt the thrill of hope.

Guns, and lots more of them, were only steps away.

Tyr gripped her arm and tried pulling her back. What was he doing?

Had he sensed she wasn’t exactly truthful about the weapons?

Then she saw it.

The blood again. Everywhere. The bodies. The dead eyes.

The entire loading crew had been slaughtered. And the security guards? Mauled. Their weapons were scattered across the concrete dock. The beast must have approached from the other side.

And must be equally near, as the air turned crimson.

Tyr got them backpedaling, but a low, deep snarl stopped them in their tracks. Stopped them because the sound was near. Sal followed Tyr’s gaze upward to find the beast crouched atop the truck. His tail swished back as he let out a nasty hiss. The beast’s fangs gleamed under the floodlights.

Even without any warrior skills, Sal knew that the beast had the better vantage point. There would be no running. At least not without being pounced upon. Tyr had his knife, and she knew he would die to protect her.

She just didn’t think she’d last long after that.

Damn it. There were so many guns, but none close enough to grab. The nearest was on the far side of a huge crate. The beast shifted his weight, clearly relishing this moment before he attacked.

Tyr must have sensed it as well, for he lifted his short knife in defiance. It wouldn’t be enough. Nothing would be enough against the beast. Then the beast, ever so subtly, shifted his stare to Tyr as his muscles drew taut.

Just as Tyr had been distracted in the glade to allow the beast to attack, Sal used this opportunity. Without thought, Sal threw herself forward, scrambling past the crate, aiming for the fallen gun.

The weapon was nearly in a finger’s reach when a huge paw slammed down on the weapon. At the last second, Sal pulled up short, falling to her knees, barely avoiding crashing into the beast. Eyes fluttering, she didn’t want to look up. She didn’t want to see the beast this up close and personal. She didn’t want to see its fangs as they bit down upon her.

For there was no escape. The gun was in the beast’s grip, and the crate was squarely between the beast and her rescuer.

As the beast’s hot, fetid breath beat down upon her, Sal squeezed her eyes shut. Then somewhere deep within her medulla, a primitive response welled. A fury that matched Tyr’s coursed through her veins. She wouldn’t succumb. Not like the rest. Not even like Maria.

“Move!” Sal heard Tyr command. Even though she wanted nothing more than to be far, far away from the beast, her body fought against Tyr’s edict. Not because his word was a command, but because it was the wrong one.

“Fire!” Sal yelled.

To everyone’s surprise, most of all hers, the gun under the beast’s foot actually fired. The beast let out an uncommonly high-pitched yelp as the bullet cut through his flesh. Startled, the beast raised his paw, exposing the weapon.

Not trusting the command to work again, Sal lunged, grabbing the gun. She fired. Thrown backward by the recoil, a howl was the only way that she knew she’d hit the beast. Sal fired again and again, but those thick muscles launched the beast atop the delivery truck and over the other side. Still she fired until the gun clicked empty. Slick with the beast’s blood, the weapon slipped from her grip and clanged against the pavement.

“Move!” Tyr commanded again. And Sal wanted to move, but she just stood there shaking, her breath coming in shivers. Sal had seen med students looking like this during their first trauma. Hell, she had yelled at med students looking like this during their first trauma. No matter how her logical mind tried to get her to move, her body refused, as the beast’s black blood wet her hands.

“The door!” Tyr yelled. “Make haste!”

Down the dock she saw a crack of light. As if it were the beacon of salvation, Sal found her feet moving. Trying not to look at the eviscerated bodies littering the dock, Sal followed Tyr. Luckily, the thick door had been propped open. She breathed a sigh of relief until she realized that it was a corpse, in particular his shoe, that had kept the door from closing.

Raked across the back, the man clearly had been trying to escape the beast. Just as they were.

Could they really hope to fare any better?

CHAPTER 41

Stepping over the dead man, they slipped into the museum. Tyr slammed the door shut as a loud boom shook the door. The force was so great that the metal warped under the beast’s attack. It held, but barely.

Tyr broke one vial, then another against the metal. “Hold!”

The next attack from the beast only rattled the door rather than destroying it. But it still really, really rattled that door.

It took another breath for Tyr to make the decision. He pulled his knife, and without hesitation sliced his wrist.

“No!” she yelled as arterial blood spurted.

Oblivious to the danger of such loss, Tyr pushed the wound against the crack between the door and the frame. Before her eyes, the blood gelled in the gap, sealing it closed. The next attack only shook the door a little.

They were by no means safe, but death seemed a few heartbeats further away. Until she looked down. Another three bodies.

Sal looked to Tyr for reassurance, but he pointed to the dead. “Look to what your meddling caused, witch.”

She groped to answer as Tyr used his teeth to cinch a piece of cloth over his wrist wound. His words were unfair, yet she couldn’t think of a single way to refute them.

Boom.

This time, the beast’s assault shook the entire wall. While Tyr’s seal might hold, the building’s foundation now fell into question.

“There is not a blood that will hold forever,” Tyr said as he grabbed her upper arm and urged her deeper into the warehouse.

The beast’s challenging of the entrance came closer and closer as their flight became slower and slower. Unloaded crates littered the huge cement floor haphazardly. Worse, they formed some kind of labyrinth that snaked its way forward, then back again.

Once they stumbled out of this serpentine path, they found the warehouse littered with unpacked artifacts. With no regard whatsoever to what he destroyed, Tyr picked up the pace, shattering a vase here, smashing a mirror there. Priceless art was ground underfoot.

Sal might have been outraged, except the integrity of the museum’s nouveau riche collections just didn’t matter. The de Young could buy more.

“Open!”

The thick, double key-coded door swung out of their way as they charged into the museum proper. Without a single peep from the security system, they ran through the Oceanic Arts display. Huge, five-foot-high masks flanked them as they hauled ass. Placards filled with amazing facts about the Natives’ hand-woven baskets were a blur. They didn’t have time for edification, only survival.

Their flight took them over the islander exhibit’s rough-hewn floor and onto slick marble as they passed the Impressionists Gallery. Somewhere in the darkened room were Monet’s and van Gogh’s, but Tyr angled them away from the painting-lined gallery and toward the large, central atrium.

Far ahead, Sal could see the glint of the glass doors. Just a few more seconds and they would be away from all the death and carnage.

CHAPTER 42

They flat-out ran for the doors when an alarm sounded from all around. The Klaxons nearly deafened them as the glass doors cracked, but then stopped abruptly.

“Open!” he shouted again, sounding angry that the glass doors dared to disobey him, and yet they wouldn’t budge. Tyr was about to give the command again when she realized the problem.

A thick metal sheet rolled down, preventing the doors from opening.

“Look!”

“Stop!” His command to the security door was drowned out by the sheet locking into place. Before them stood a wall of metal. Behind them, a heart-stopping howl, forlorn yet challenging. The beast was inside the museum.

Tyr swung to her. For the first time she saw fear in his eyes.

“If he can smell me…” Sal couldn’t finish the sentence. If they were trapped, well, she was dead.

Resolve hardened his features. “I must find another blade. A stout one.”

Yes, they did need one. Wasn’t that how she convinced him to come to the museum in the first place?

“Medieval Days and Knights!” Sal turned, but Tyr did not follow. “The third floor.” He still didn’t seem convinced, like she couldn’t possibly fathom what he needed. “Armor, swords, shields. All are on the third floor.”

This time he bolted after her. The spiral staircase was on the far side of the museum, far from where the beast issued its challenge.

They vaulted up the steps as blood dripped from the hem of Tyr’s coat. Between the battle in the glade, his own bloodletting to seal the door, and the exertion of their flight, Sal knew that Tyr shouldn’t have even been able to stand, let alone run up stairs. Something other than adrenaline was keeping him on his feet.

This had all gone so horribly wrong. The carnage at the docks was still fresh in her mind, a bloody scene that might be repeated here. If she died, she wanted to make sure Tyr knew why she had come back.

“I’m sorry for all those men. I thought I could help by—”

Tyr answered curtly, “An affliction you suffer from frequently.”

Ears reddening, Sal gritted her teeth, not rising to the bait. “The beast wasn’t just after the statue. The rest of the victims are associated with a physics laboratory at San Francisco State University.”

A fleeting look passed over Tyr’s face. Had she regained an iota of his respect? Then the softer expression fled, replaced by his stern jawline.

“He seeks only my death and his return home.”

“I just—”

Reaching the third-floor landing, Tyr skidded to a halt. Before them, a plethora of glittering steel blades and studded shields beckoned.

“What’s wrong?” Sal asked, more than a little panicked. Wasn’t this what he wanted? If this didn’t satisfy his need for a weapon, nothing ever would. When Tyr didn’t respond, she tugged on his arm. “What’s—”

But there was nothing wrong. Nothing at all. As he turned to her, the left side of his lip tugged up into an expression she’d never seen before.

The faintest smile.

CHAPTER 43

The emergency lighting glowed red, making it impossible to discern when the beast actually mounted the staircase, yet Sal knew exactly when it did by the tension across Tyr’s shoulders. Either that or the strain on the hunter’s taxed muscles from holding a broadsword in one hand and a scimitar in the other had finally gotten to him. Thick leather straps supported his steel breastplate.

He truly looked the knight, complete in shining armor.

Then the red glow took on a sinister cast. Even she could tell the difference between the beast and the lighting. The beast’s glow sucked all the light from the air and replaced it with a hunger.

Sal was so nervous that she didn’t notice that Tyr had turned to face her.

“Do not despair.”

Sal didn’t bother to mention that she had passed despair somewhere on the second floor and entered into hopeless a few minutes ago.

“I shall hold him,” he said firmly. But were his words meant to convince her, or himself? “I shall lure him deep within the hall.”

Nodding, Sal’s attention wandered back to the staircase. In only a few seconds, the beast would make an appearance. It might stalk slowly, or burst out with wild fury, but it would come.

Tyr forced her to face him. “When I give you the command, you must run. Run as you have never in your life.”

“But I’ll still be trapped in here. I’d rather—”

“Have you not listened?” Tyr growled. “You must be far away when I succumb.”

“Succumb?” Maybe the word meant something different in his culture. “You mean die?”

He acted as if he had to explain the sun’s rise each morning. “After I draw my final breath, the beast will flee through time. He will become my brethren’s burden, but you must be away. Too near and he will delay his flight to satisfy his revenge upon you.”

“But…” Sal voice shook from confusion and fear. “The baby’s blood. You said it was the key to killing him.”

Tyr shook his head. “It must be spared until the killing stroke.”

“Then make the killing stroke!” she demanded.

His tone was almost kind. “Battling to kill and fighting to lure are disciplines apart.” Tyr squeezed her shoulders. “If I were to miss, he would take us both in a single bold stroke.”

“There’s got to be another way,” she begged, but could tell by the weight upon his features that there wasn’t.

Tyr was going to die. She might too. Either way, he was going to die.

He nodded sharply as if to finalize their plan, but she refused to sign off on his suicidal plan. She refused to give up. The beast hadn’t even drawn blood yet, and Tyr was capitulating? That would be like signing a death certificate before the patient had even been wheeled into the ER.

“Damn it, think!” Sal urged herself. Using her medical school-honed memory, she sorted through everything she knew about the beast. Their attacker was nothing more than a virile pathogen. If he had strengths, he had weaknesses.

“You can use my blood.” Sal extended her arm. “You have my permission. Use it to anoint your blade.”

“His flesh has tasted you. The blow might sting, but stall him? No longer. Mine is the only path.”

It couldn’t be. Sal felt anguish threaten to overwhelm her, but she refused to indulge in such wallowing. What did she teach her students? If the patient’s heart still beat, you kept trying; even when you thought there wasn’t anything else to try, you still tried.

“Wait,” Sal urged. “If you can hold him, I can run down and get another gun.”

Tyr sneered. “Those armed thought the same, and did you not witness their fate?”

“Damn it. I injured it.” A snort from Tyr pissed her off. “Back on the dock, I shot him.”

“Startling and injuring are leagues apart.”

Tyr’s view must have been blocked by the crate. Didn’t he realize she’d actually shot the beast?

She thrust her bloody hand toward Tyr. “That’s the beast’s blood.” She indicated to the spray of dark spots on her jacket. “And that’s from the second shot.”

That unusual turning up of his lips formed, only this time it wasn’t just a smile but a fierce one.

“Then there is hope,” he said as tugged on her jacket. “I must prepare the elixir.”

Sal blushed as she helped him rip the garment from her. Her mind knew the action was just to get the blood-soaked cloth for his potion, but her body had a very different reaction. Ignoring her flushed cheeks, Sal looked toward the staircase. The entire room filled with the beast’s sickly red pallor. Sal refused to be terrified. Tyr had a plan, and from his pleased expression it was a good one.

“Now,” he added, “we need only for you to hold him.”

Sal’s head snapped around. “What?”

CHAPTER 44

Tyr seemed unconcerned. “The tincture must be precise.”

“I can’t—” Of course, that was the moment the beast’s paw mounted the top step. “He’s coming!”

“But look how slowly,” Tyr said as he hunched over the jacket and a myriad of vials. “He can sense you and smell my wounds. Why does he not charge to meet us head- on?”

Sal hadn’t thought about that. Every second the beast delayed was a gift that she wasn’t rushing to question.

As the full measure of the beast mounted that last step, Sal raised Tyr’s scimitar. The beast’s warning guff burned right through her clothes and into her heart. Still, the beast did not attack. Instead, it paced back and forth, blocking their only exit.

“You have taught the beast a caution that I did not think possible.”

Well, Sal wouldn’t exactly call it caution. Rather, its ruddy glow and guttural vocalizations spoke of rage, a rage that was about to be unleashed.

She’d seen the same bunching of its muscles back on the dock. The same tension in its neck. The beast would have his satisfaction.

“Tyr…”

He didn’t have a chance to respond before the beast gathered, its tail lashing violently. Faster than she could blink, it launched at her.

Sal was sure that she screamed, but couldn’t hear over the beast’s roar. A single blow knocked the scimitar from her hand. The weapon skidded across the marble, sparking in a piercing squeal.

Both she and the beast knew that she was defenseless.

A hand grabbed the collar of her sweater, pulling her off her feet. As she fell back, Tyr blew a thick powder into the beast’s face. Enraged, the beast swatted, but its aim was off. Tyr easily danced away as their enemy staggered backward, clearly blinded.

Tyr took her hand. “This way.”

As they ran, Sal glanced over her shoulder to find the beast groping about, disoriented and frantic. “Why didn’t you just kill him?”

“To kill the beast will take an act of treachery.”

“Such as?”

Instead of answering, Tyr quickened the pace. It wasn’t until they were deep within the Black Death exhibit that he pulled them to a halt. He cast his glance around the room, and then tugged her toward the far corner.

“Here,” he said as he shoved about seven million dollars’ worth of Dark Ages artifacts aside to clear an area in front of an enormous thirteenth-century stone cross. “Sit.”

With her bottom on the cool, marble floor, Sal leaned against a rough rock. Tyr took a small leather bag of powder and sprinkled it in a circle around her and the cross.

“You must stay within the protectorate.”

Hugging her knees to her chest, Sal nodded.

Next, he uncorked the tiny vial that held the baby’s blood. Tyr tapped the glass, and a single drop of blood fell onto his sword. This time, instead of the blade turning a blinding white, the gray metal shimmered red.

The color of the beast.

CHAPTER 45

The commotion from the front of the exhibit abruptly stopped.

“He comes,” Tyr said, locking her gaze. “No matter the cause, do not breach the circle.”

As the hunter strode off, her stomach twisted. Sal didn’t want to be the “clingy” girl, but she couldn’t let him leave without the tiniest bit of reassurance. “You won’t go far?”

Those blue eyes sobered to gray. “Only as far as needs be.”

She gave him a timid smile, which he didn’t return. Her heart thudded against her sternum as Tyr disappeared between a Black Death casket and a massive gargoyle.

The room warmed as the seconds ticked by. Just as the red gloom preceded the beast, so did his body heat. Crinkling her nose, Sal realized that his odor was a pretty good indicator, too. As the smell filled her nostrils, she knew the beast had entered the exhibit.

Which would be the greater attractant? Her essence, or Tyr’s blood?

Did the circle of powder only mask her scent, or was it a true barrier?

Her resolve was tested as she heard the beast’s harsh breath. He padded softly across the room, his nose down, sniffing along the floor. The beast found the pile of artifacts that Tyr had tossed aside. For an instant, Sal held out hope that they would hold his interest, then the beast snorted in disgust, moving onto the next, until there were no more.

When the beast almost bumped into a pedestal holding a carving of the Green Man, Sal realized the beast’s vision must still be compromised. He was relying solely on his sense of smell.

Tyr really did know his Praxis.

The beast raised his head, nose pointed up, taking in great long droughts of air. His thick mane turned in her direction. Digging fingernails into her jeans, Sal kept herself from screaming.

Tyr would come. He would slay the beast. He would save them both.

With each step forward the beast made, the more those words became a chant in her mind as hesitation left the beast’s stride. She couldn’t see his eyes through his shaggy mane, but it seemed he could now see her. Knew exactly where she was.

The thick stone kept her from backing away as the beast stalked forward. Sal thought her heart was going to betray her, it beat so loudly. Her muscles didn’t care about the cross behind her. They wanted to propel her up, to the left, to the right. Anywhere but here. Here in the beast’s path.

The foul creature stopped just short of the circle, but close enough that Sal could feel his hot breath on her hands. The beast lowered his head and tentatively sniffed at the chalky powder.

When nothing adverse happened, he leaned closer, bringing his nose almost down on her shoe. She could feel his nostrils flare in and out against her foot as he assessed the circle.

Clenching her eyes closed, Sal sat perfectly still. Not breathing. Not shivering. Not screaming.

Then the beast snorted. Her eyes snapped open to a plume of powder. Her only line of defense had gone up in smoke, quite literally. Whatever was left was barely a dusting of the protectorate. Would it be enough?

CHAPTER 46

Sal wasn’t sure how many seconds passed, but the beast refused to move on. Her head swam, as whatever oxygen she had in her bloodstream slowly dissipated. Soon, very soon, she would have to take a breath, an exhale that would carry her scent out and over that faded red circle.

Where was Tyr? Now would be an ideal moment for intervention of the red sword kind.

Instead the strained panic dragged on and on. Her brain screamed, and her pulse raced to keep up with the demand, but still the beast’s head stood in profile, sniffing, searching. Just when her body was about to take over, a loud clang echoed from the adjacent hall. The beast’s head snapped to the left.

Tyr to the rescue.

Knowing that her salvation was only steps away helped firm her lips.

No betraying breath would get past them.

A paw lifted.

Go left, Sal begged. Just go left.

The beast should have gone left. His head was turned that way. His body leaned that way. Instead, the paw lashed out.

Oh, God! One of her sneakers had inched past the powder. Sal jerked it back, but not before a single claw punctured her leather shoe.

Sal squeaked as she plastered herself against the cross. Toes curled back inside her shoe. The beast hadn’t injured her, but certainly had a hold on her. He tugged her foot past the breach in the circle. Sal desperately tried to brace herself. Her fingers dug into the stone behind her. Anything to keep that foot on this side of the barrier.

All her effort was for naught. With a roar, the beast jerked her foot past the circle, dragging her entire calf out as well. Scrambling, Sal grabbed hold of the base of the cross and kicked as hard as she could, but there was no surprising the beast now.

If it hadn’t been for her hold on the stone, Sal would have been dragged completely over the circle’s edge. Summoning every ounce of epinephrine from her adrenal glands, Sal kicked outward. Not at the beast, but at her own foot. Catching the heel of the captured shoe with the toe of the free sneaker, she pushed as hard as she could. The shoe came off with a “pop,” sending the beast sprawling backward.

Sal scampered back inside the protective circle. The powder was smeared, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t fend the beast off long enough for Tyr to put his plan into motion.

He was nearby. She could feel it.

The creak of leather and the smell of blood.

Unfortunately, after a swish of his tail, the beast launched up and over the circle. Shocked that he moved so brazenly, Sal tried to dodge, but the cross blocked her escape. The beast slammed her against the stone. Wind knocked out of her, she twisted under his grip.

The beast pushed his full body atop her, straddling her like prey. She struggled fiercely, but ultimately in vain. He outweighed her by five hundred pounds. Sal turned her head away from the horror, smashing her cheek against the marble floor.

Pressed so close, the beast’s growl rumbled against her chest. There was a hunger there. Worse, it wasn’t necessarily for food.

To confirm her fear, the beast’s coarse tongue licked up her neck. Hot, fetid breath beat down on her skin. But still she didn’t look. To look up, to really look at him, would be the end of her.

Sirens sounded in the distance. They were thin and tinny, but they were sirens. Help was on its way. If she could just hold on. Just a few more seconds.

Then the beast used his paw to pierce her shoulder, just deep enough to elicit pain, but not damage the tendon.

It hurt. God it hurt. The injury might be minor, but the pain was major.

He was warning her. Demanding that she look up, or true pain was on the way, but she refused. The beast dug deeper.

What was this game? Why toy with her so?

As he hit tendon, Sal gave in and looked up.

From the tumble of his mane, the hair thinned across his broad nose.

His lips curled in a snarl. So close. Then the beast tilted its head and found her gaze.

Its azure eyes sparked with a palpable evil, but with something else as well. An intelligence.

Those eyes didn’t belong to an animal.

They were human.

CHAPTER 47

The beast had once been a man.

“He… knoweth… my hunger.” Through wet fangs, it slurred.

Filled with such a panic, Sal flailed, not caring that her shoulder screeched in pain. She beat with her fists, kicked with her feet, but the beast just chuckled, deep and guttural, holding her firmly in place. Dear God, was this how Maria spent her last moments on earth?

It couldn’t be happening, but the beast used his nose to nudge her sweater away from her chest. He nuzzled the crook of her neck, breathing her in like a lover.

“Just kill me,” Sal begged him. She had to say something, do something to make it stop.

She was helpless as the beast snagged a button on her shirt with a fang, snapping the fastener off, revealing cleavage. He licked again, slow and wet. It had been horrible enough when she thought the beast simply an animal. To think him a man? To think what he wanted to do to her?

As the beast nuzzled against her neck, his coarse mane rubbed against her cheek. Only it wasn’t a mane. So close, Sal realized it was dreadlocked hair. Human hair. Not just his eyes betrayed his heritage, making his violation all the worse.

Sal fought harder, desperate. If she couldn’t get away, she could at least make him angry enough to end this torture. Metal scraped her cheek. She couldn’t help but open her eyes. It was a beautifully engraved ballpoint pen, tangled within one of the beast’s dreadlocks. What did the beast need with a pen?

Then she recognized the item. It belonged to the Treasure Hunter. He’d been holding it in the picture. Focusing on the single dreadlock, Sal realized it was the beast’s bandolier. There was an earring. A money clip. Tokens from his victims. Besides her virtue, what would the beast take of hers? After she died, what would he add to his morbid collection?

The beast must have sensed her distraction, for he licked up her cheek as he forced her legs apart.

“No!” she screamed, throwing her head back. Tears streaming down her face, she looked at the cross. Anything to not watch the beast pull her top down further. Vision streaked with moisture, it took a moment to realize there was a figure atop the cross, crouched, poised.

“Tyr!”

Sword raised, he fell atop them. The beast tried to leap, but Tyr’s blade was too quick, nailing the creature between the shoulder blades. The beast roared, tossing her aside like a crumpled doll. Tyr went on the offensive. Hobbled, the beast could only swat weakly in defense.

Tyr went at the beast, but he used the hunter’s momentum against him, sidestepping at the last instant. Sapped by blood loss, Tyr stumbled forward, unable to keep his footing. The beast used the moment to pull the sword from its back.

Recovering faster than a human had a right to, Tyr dodged a swipe and turned to parry, but the beast leapt. Straight for a window. Three stories up.

Tyr dove to intercept, but the beast’s strength easily carried him over the hunter and through the tempered glass.

Let him fall, Sal thought as the window shattered.

But Tyr raced over, peering down. “Damn you!”

She wasn’t sure which of them he cursed. Tyr went to climb over the ledge, but teetered wildly.

Shaken by Tyr’s show of weakness, Sal caught him before he fell. She had forgotten how badly injured Tyr had been back in the glade.

“Sit down.”

Brusquely, he shoved aside her assistance. “I must follow.”

He might have done just that, had a cop car not skidded to a stop right beneath them. Sal searched the area surrounding the museum. No beast. Of course, the bastard could survive a three-floor fall.

Only then did she realize that beams of light crisscrossed throughout the museum, searching the building floor by floor.

They were trapped.

CHAPTER 48

Arm shaking, Tyr raised his scimitar. He meant to fight his way through the police. Sal might have believed that possible before his injuries, but now? With all those bodies downstairs, the cops were going to come up here in a hail of bullets. Not that Sal blamed them. It’s exactly what she would do if she could.

Tyr looked down at the police car again. Most of the officers had flooded inside, leaving the loading area deserted. “I cannot lose my freedom.”

With an intelligent, corrupted beast running loose, that was an understatement. But there had to be a way that didn’t involve a three-story plunge to get Tyr out of the building. There was something on the edge of her vision. On the tip of her tongue.

“The elevator,” Sal blurted out.

“The what?”

“It’s a… never mind.”

She pulled him along as she headed toward the northeast corner of the tower, through the Celtic Tradition Display and past The Orient’s Allure: Fact and Fiction exhibit.

Being a frequent visitor of the museum paid off as she found the elevator. Even though the power had been cut off, Sal doubted it would give Tyr much of a challenge. The hunter might barely be able to stand upright, but he gathered three vials and cracked them against the doors.

“Open,” he whispered.

As heavy footsteps searched the wing, the elevator parted.

Sal punched the darkened ground-floor button. With a lurch, the elevator began its slow descent. Sal knew that she should have been surprised that the elevator worked, but she wasn’t. After all that had happened, it was going to take a hell of a lot to ever surprise her again.

She wasn’t even all that shocked that the beast had once been a man. His cunning was now explained. His interest in the physics department made more sense. A beast would have little use for such a place of science.

The beast…

Somewhere along their headlong flight, Sal had shoved to the back of her mind what his touch felt like. His dried saliva clung to her skin. His smell acrid in every breath. His muzzle against her chest.

Exactly how far was Tyr willing to let that go? Which brought up the painful question of exactly why did the hunter let it happen in the first place? The more she thought upon those questions, the less and less fear drove her pulse. Anger took over.

“The circle wasn’t for protection.…” The words came out of her mouth before Sal thought them through.

Tyr swayed slightly with the rhythm of the elevator. “No.”

Oh, God. There was that hit in the gut again. Tyr had lied to her.

Betrayed her. Then she remembered his words as he had led her to that stone cross. Only treachery could bring the beast low.

“What was the powder?”

“An aphrodisiac.”

He didn’t even parse his words or try to make them more palatable. Sal squeezed her eyes closed. She’d thought that Tyr had just been reckless, giving her the circle as a placebo. But now…

She could barely choke out the words. “You used me as bait!”

“I hunt,” was all that he said.

Sal knew that he meant that to be an explanation, but she didn’t accept it.

“The next time you need a worm on a hook, use yourself.”

Rage contorted his face. “What did you think my intent was in the clearing?”

Sal stepped back from his fury, her mind searching to remember events that transpired just a few minutes ago. Had it been that short a time since she had led the beast away from the fallen Tyr?

“You… you were unconscious. The blow to your head.”

Tyr held out his wrist, the cloth barely tinged with pink after binding a major arterial cut. “Do you not think I can stanch the flow of my own blood?”

The growing pool of red in the clearing. She had been so sure he was in danger. Could she have been so mistaken?

“I lured the beast to come in for the kill. Once atop me, I would have buried my knife into his heart.”

Tyr’s voice rang with righteous indignation, but she had seen him driven to his knees. That had been no act. “You really expected to survive?”

As the doors opened, Tyr stepped in front of her, putting out a protective arm as they exited. The area was pitch black. The cops hadn’t gotten this far south.

“I would have had the strength,” he hissed, but she ignored him.

When she tried to stride past, Tyr grabbed her by the arm that the beast had injured. Suppressing a cry, she jerked it from his grasp, almost too easily.

As Tyr tried to right himself, the scimitar slipped from his grasp, clanging to the metal floor. He might have been faking the blood loss, but the injury? The hypovolemic shock? That was real.

“Are you so sure?” she said as she turned away from him.

When he didn’t react, Sal turned back, but there was no one behind her. Only the scimitar lay on the ground.

Tyr was gone.

CHAPTER 49

Sal snuck back into Richard’s house, exhausted and on the verge of tears. She’d waited until the chaos of the emergency response at the de Young turned attention away from Fulton Avenue.

Tiptoeing, she made her way to the bathroom. Carefully, Sal opened the medicine cabinet. Peeling off her shirt, she assessed her shoulder wound. In the mirror, it looked like just a red pucker against her russet skin. But its presence spoke such terror. So much terror that she squeezed her eyes shut as she grabbed the antiseptic.

The Betadine stung, but not as badly as the tears she kept at bay. All those men at the museum. The radio had reported eleven dead. No survivors. And the police were having a hard time understanding why entire collections had been destroyed with over twenty-seven million dollars in damage, but not a single item had actually been taken. Without burglary as a motive, the cops were at a loss as to why the hideous crime had been committed.

She could go to the police, but who would believe her?

And knowing Richard, if he heard her fantastical tale, no matter her assertion that she was telling the truth, he might commit her to a mental hospital for her own good.

Better to let Tyr’s secret stay secret.

Once she placed a crisp, white bandage over the wound, Sal pulled her nightgown from its hook. With a sigh, she donned the garment. Looking in the mirror, she was surprised to find herself appearing so normal. Except for the damp hair and dark circles, Sal didn’t look like she’d staked out a boathouse and been anteed up to a beast.

What didn’t kill you made you stronger, right? Sal snorted. Unlike what the Chick lit tried to convince you of, she didn’t feel the better for any of it.

Sal flicked off the light. Studying her tired features wasn’t going to give her any insight into Tyr’s betrayal. Traveling down the hallway, Sal noticed the computer in the den was on, but she ignored it. She knew it was her laptop trying to contact her, but she’d had enough. Just as he had left her to the beast’s vile attentions, Tyr was on his own.

Carefully she cracked open the bedroom door. Whisper-quiet, Sal made her way to the plush, pillow-top bed. The sun was just rising over the Golden Gate Bridge, flooding the room with a warm light. Any other day, she might have admired the view Richard paid over three million dollars for, but this morning, she just didn’t have it in her. She tugged the covers out from Richard’s grip.

“That took a while,” he murmured as he turned over.

“Got caught up in a trauma. Now go back to sleep.”

It wasn’t really a lie, now, was it?

Her head wasn’t even on the downy pillow before Richard’s arms enveloped her. The contact felt hot and uncomfortable. Sal realized that coming back to his place wasn’t the best idea. Her fiancé meant well, but his embrace felt smothering rather than comforting. Worse, Richard kissed the nape of her neck, then worked his way around to the hollow of her shoulder.

He didn’t know how much that motion made her skin crawl. How could he? She squirmed, but he must have thought it was in excitement as his hand slid down her thigh, heading inward.

Without thinking, Sal grabbed his wrist. “Don’t.”

“Too soon?”

Tears brimmed as she came close to cracking. How she wanted to tell him everything. Just let it all spill out, but how could she? Would he really be able to maintain professional detachment if she told him she was nearly raped by a beast, and the man whom she had come to think of as some sort of savior was planning on sitting there, watching?

Instead, Sal choked out, “I guess you were right… I’m not ready.”

She could see the disappointment register on her fiancé’s face. Was he going to mention the fact they hadn’t had sex since the engagement?

Richard lay back down, this time more casually draping his arm over her waist. Not invading her space, but letting her know he was there if she needed him. “There’s no timetable for these things. When you’re ready, you’ll be ready.”

With her fiancé being this loving and supportive, Sal wasn’t sure how she was going to tell him that she might never be ready.

CHAPTER 50

Sal awoke to the smell of egg white omelets and soy bacon. Her eyelids were still puffy and her legs still felt leaden, so she was surprised when she looked at the clock and found that it was nearly noon.

Crap! She was going to be late. The memorial was in a little over an hour. Scrambling, Sal searched through her drawer at the bottom of Richard’s dresser. Not a lot of selection, especially for a eulogy. The black skirt was a given, but she only had a choice of a pink or neon green top.

Neither felt very funeral friendly.

“You know that if you moved in, you’d have half the closet,” Richard said as he strolled into his closet that equaled almost half of her apartment’s square footage.

“Then what would you do with all your Armani?” she asked, really hoping she came off as playful rather than condescending.

Luckily, Richard chuckled. “That’s what the guest bedroom’s for.”

With a black suit slung over his shoulder, he moved in for a kiss, but she pretended to have trouble with the strap on her heels.

Even though she went through the motions of starting her day, Sal wanted nothing more than to crawl back inside that bed, or any bed, and sleep away the week. Maybe with enough sleep, she might be able to put the horror of Maria’s death, then Tyr’s betrayal, behind her. Maybe somewhere in there she could forget about the beast and his lurid tongue.

It wasn’t until Richard donned the suit’s jacket that Sal realized he meant to go to the funeral with her. A panic rose that nearly equaled what she felt for the beast. Sal felt too frail to experience Richard’s constricting presence.

She desperately tried to sound casual. “You know, this is a pretty small ceremony, and I’m sure you’re crammed with appointments, especially after canceling the last two days’ worth of—”

“My schedule is fine. I want to be there for you.”

“I know, but…”

As he buckled his belt, smoothing the fine Italian leather under the polished pewter, Richard faced her. “But?”

“I just…” Sal fidgeted with her skirt’s waistline. Without a shirt and only a bra covering her chest, she felt exposed. She wanted to cover up, but that felt equally awkward in front of her fiancé.

“It’s no secret amongst the staff that you and Maria were…”

“She was a human being, Sal. I want to grieve just like everyone else.”

Jesus, he was making this hard. Even on a day she wasn’t frazzled by near-death experiences, this conversation would have been difficult.

“But as you’ve said, funerals aren’t about the dead. They are for the living. In this particular case the staff of S.F. General.”

His lips frowned. “Are you saying you don’t want me to come?”

She lied again, convincing herself it was to protect his feelings. “Me? Yes. The rest of the staff, probably not so much.”

Richard straightened to his full height. Never a good sign. He was upset, but far too supportive to express it. He removed his jacket and tossed it onto the bed as he began unbuttoning his pressed shirt.

“If it’s what’s best for your co-workers.” Taking a deep breath, Richard’s tone changed—as if she hadn’t just insulted him to the core. “Afterward, why don’t you swing by? I’ll make some dinner. Have a nice evening in?”

Oh, how Sal wished he hadn’t brought up the subject of the evening. She hoped that they could cross this bridge later, over the phone. Not here. Not now. Not right after the whole funeral thing.

She strove for nonchalance as she inspected the pink and green shirts, trying to decide which was the less hideous option. “I was thinking…”

Richard frowned as he put his pewter cuff links back in the jewelry box.

“Why am I feeling like I’m going to like this even less than the news about the memorial service?”

“I just feel like I need some space.” As the frown reached his eyes, Sal hurried, “Just a little time on my own to regroup. You know.”

“Sal, this is not the time to isolate yourself from social interaction.”

He was using that tone again, the concerned therapist rather than the injured fiancé. Come to think of it, had she ever heard him really injured?

Had she ever heard that pained tone like Tyr had used last night? Had she ever seen Richard struggle to express himself?

This wasn’t about last night, though, or even Tyr. It was about her needing to be alone. Her look was sympathetic, but her tone firm.

“I need some alone time. To process. To grieve. I would think that if anyone would understand my desire, it would be you.”

Sal could see the annoyance on Richard’s face. She had just given him the type of situation he hated the most. A no-win scenario. He always encouraged her to speak her feelings and assert her needs. Richard couldn’t argue with her without violating his own advice. And Lord knew he didn’t want to be cast in any other light but considerate.

“Fine.” The word came out way more terse than usual. She could see him cringe. Again, the shrug as he walked to the kitchen. “I guess if you’re paying the apartment’s rent, you might as well get some benefit out of it.”

“Thanks for being so understanding,” she said sincerely.

But he didn’t answer, only a little wave over his shoulder as he disappeared down the hallway.

Sal ran her fingers through her hair. She thought that after telling Richard she had to be alone for a while, she would feel better. Liberated, or at the least relieved, but she wasn’t. Instead it just felt crappy to have wounded his ego like that. Had she lost the ability to make a right decision?

However, as she packed a few things in her overnight bag, her foul mood began to lift. She was sorry to hurt Richard, but her tiny, cramped apartment was sounding better and better. The toilet that needed an extra jiggle to flush. The bed with so many lumps that were perfectly molded to her body. It might not be much, but it was hers and hers alone.

Ready to go, she had only one decision left to make. Pink or green? For the briefest instant, Sal wondered if Praxis might be applied here. Could she will the shirt to change color into a muted gray or navy blue? Or was the more logical option just to throw on her sweat jacket and run into Marshall’s and buy something more appropriate?

“I’d recommend the pink,” Richard suggested from the doorway.

Sal looked the thin fabric up and down. The pink ruffle down the middle seemed way over the top. “I don’t know. It doesn’t look at all ‘funeral-y.’”

“No, but you can’t get more Hello Kitty than that.”

As he walked away, Sal realized that maybe Richard understood Maria more than she thought.

CHAPTER 51

Sal regretted her choice of heels as she ran down the street, flagging down the cable car. From the distinct, three long bell rings, two shorter notes, and then finishing off with a last warbling note, she knew that the car’s gripman was Lyle. Given that it was his seventh year running as the winner of the annual cable car bell-ringing contest, every stop was a musical interlude.

“Top of the morning!” he shouted from the rear of the vehicle.

She waved hello as she stepped up onto the running board. An elderly couple scooted over on the bench. “There’s plenty of room.”

Sal smiled, but shook her head. “I’m good out here.”

As she gripped the handle, the car lurched forward and picked up speed as they descended Nob Hill. It was selfish, but Sal hoped there weren’t any more pickups. She loved the feel of the wind in her hair as the car sped down the steep California Street. Where else could you ride on the outside of a moving vehicle?

So unless it was pounding rain, and even sometimes then, Sal rode on the sideboard, letting the city pour over her. The tip of the Transamerica Pyramid peeking through the skyscrapers. The Bay glistening in snatches down the intersections. Each ride served as a reminder of why she loved this City so much.

How many times had she and Maria hopped on the first car passing by? They never planned where to have dinner. They just let the cable car sweep them away, and when something caught their eye, they’d hop off and try out a new place. It was how they found the best chicken satay on Powell.

Granted, it was also how they got food poisoning at the sushi restaurant on Market Street, but hey, you couldn’t win them all.

Under the cloudless morning with the city bustling, the last few days, and especially nights, seemed unreal. Then her shoulder wound twinged as the car braked. No matter the city’s pristine façade this summer day, the beast still lurked. Could he sense her out of the dozens packed into the cable car? Could he be stalking her as she blithely traveled the city?

Shivering in the warm summer sun, Sal shoved any thoughts of the beast from her mind. She had a single intent today—to honor her friend. The beast, the Park, and even Tyr paled in comparison.

Sal pulled down on the cord to signal to the gripman that she needed off. A single chime acknowledged her request. If only her life were so orderly. The car stopped as Sal hopped off, giving a wave to Lyle. The wind kicked up her pink ruffles. The material fluttered, as if recognizing a moment of joy and taking full advantage of it. As she walked down the street, preparing to eulogize her best friend, Sal couldn’t help but smile.

The pink blouse was definitely the right choice.

CHAPTER 52

Sal headed down the long corridor toward the chapel. It wasn’t like she’d never been to the room before, but she honestly couldn’t remember what it looked like. Once in a great while, she might have to find a family member down there, but usually the circumstances were so stressful that she didn’t have time to note the interior design.

Heels clicking on the tile floor, Sal found whatever goodwill she had gained on the cable car evaporating. The antiseptic smell that she normally found soothing bit into her nostrils. The recycled, conditioned air felt heavy and stale. After the refreshing breeze outside, this place was akin to a crypt.

Sal slowed. At the end of the corridor were two wooden doors that stood in stark contrast to the sterile wash of gray all around. Two small crosses were cut out of the doors, and warm light streamed from the chapel into the cooler fluorescent hallway.

There should be no reason, no reason at all, that she was reluctant to enter the chapel. Just the same, she found her hand resting on the doorknob, reluctant to turn it.

In all that had happened, it had become almost easy to forget that Maria was gone. Swept up in heart-pounding crisis after crisis, Sal could pretend her friend was still alive. To enter this chapel and give a eulogy proved exactly the opposite.

Maria would be gone. Forever.

Unfortunately, standing out in this clammy hallway couldn’t bring her friend back. Taking a deep sigh, Sal entered the chapel.

Oh dear God, was all she could think.

Before her, the chapel was packed. Not just standing room only, but crammed. People stood along the wall. They sat on the small steps leading up to the dais. There wasn’t a square inch of the sanctuary that didn’t have a body filling it.

The room turned as a whole upon her entry. Smiles greeted her, but Sal could only feel panic. She had expected a good turnout, but this was unheard of. Sal couldn’t think of a single staff member who wasn’t in attendance. All three shifts. All seven days. All of them here. All of them looking to her to give voice to their grief.

The Badger had been standing at the pulpit, but stepped down. “I will turn this over to Dr. Calon.”

More because everyone expected it of her, rather than her wanting to, Sal walked up the narrow aisle. Paul caught her eye and gave a reassuring nod. But it didn’t feel like enough. Before she had felt a little overwhelmed at the prospect of trying to encapsulate all that Maria had meant to her in a few meager words, but now—in front of this sea of people? How could she ever hope to do right by her best friend?

The beige carpet muffled her footsteps as she mounted the steps to the dais. For the first time, Sal noticed the stained glass windows behind the pulpit. The sunlight streamed, fracturing into a thousand colors, like a kaleidoscope. Red, blue, and green fell over her body as she made her way to the podium.

Turning to face the crowd, Sal’s throat constricted. She fished around in her pocket for the piece of paper she had scribbled her eulogy on, but found it missing. Terror gripped her. What was she going to do?

What was she going to say?

Sal stood there looking out over the hundred or so assembled party. All eyes were upon her. She went to open her mouth, but found her jaw wouldn’t cooperate. Her mind felt blank. Everything that Maria had meant to her was suddenly beyond her grasp.

“I have absolutely no idea what to say,” Sal heard herself pronounce.

To her surprise, Sal watched heads nod up and down in agreement. She had thought the room would be filled with condemnation. Instead, there was a murmur of respect. It gave her the strength to find the next words.

“How can you sum up a person, especially one as special and precious as Maria, in a few sentences?” Sal chuckled. “And given the fact she defied description. Took such pride in not being boxed in by labels.”

This time, Sal surveyed the room with a sense of calm. Some of the mourners were wiping away tears. Others were bent over, commiserating with their neighbors. All, however, seemed touched by her words.

“But I think the one thing Maria wouldn’t have minded me generalizing about her, was her ability to be there for you. For anyone, really…” Sal choked as a tear streamed down her cheek. “To me, she was the perfect friend. Because she was so perfectly flawed. You never felt embarrassed or ashamed to talk to her about your problems, because she’d been there. Boy trouble? Hell, girl trouble? Maria was your go-to gal.”

Laughter rose from the crowd. Each remembered a time that they had sought out the head nurse, not as a supervisor but as a confidante.

Sal soaked in the moment. The chapel was beautiful and peaceful, but so somber. The laughter felt incongruent. As did her pink shirt. Like the stained glass and neutral carpet refused to be amused. For a moment, Sal regretted putting the garish garment on, then realized it wasn’t the shirt that felt out of place.

“You know what? I really appreciate Dr. Bersher’s efforts to put this together, but I feel like Maria would see this ceremony as a ‘total buzz kill.’ “

Again, laughter. Even the Badger chuckled.

“And I really don’t think we can do Maria’s memory right without pints of lager in our hands. So unless anyone objects, how about we adjourn to the pub and throw a wake to end all wakes?”

The crowd’s response was rousing. While Bersher looked a little more uncertain, he finally gave the nod. To her surprise, people flooded the dais, hugging her, shaking her hand, kissing her cheek.

Sal guessed she did know what to say after all.

CHAPTER 53

“Now, this is more like it!” Paul exclaimed as he lifted his mug. Glasses clinked together in a symphony. Sal found herself chuckling as the nurses tried to glug the beer down in one swallow. They all came out of it with foam on their lips.

Yeah, Maria would have liked this kind of memorial.

Behind her, Sal could hear other nurses remembering how Maria had helped them fix their credit. Another cluster of mourners talked of how she went online and researched the perfect cat for one of their allergic children.

Yet another group laughed at Maria’s high jinks with an intern in the laundry room that resulted in flooding the entire sub-basement.

That was Maria’s true legacy. Over a hundred people could remember her in their own individual ways. Sal was so engrossed in the perfection of the scene that she didn’t hear Bersher approach.

“I know this might not be the most sensitive time to ask…”

She turned to find the large man seeming more humble than normal.

“Ask?”

“As you know, Dr. Yeshato has been confined to bed rest.”

“Yes…” she answered slowly. Did he really expect her to pull a shift tonight? She honestly wasn’t sure how she was still standing.

“Well, she and her husband were going to attend the Better Tomorrows fund-raiser tonight to represent the hospital, but obviously, they have had to cancel.”

Sal groaned inwardly. This request was worse than work. Granted, for San Francisco’s elites, the benefit was one of the social highlights of the year. When else could they attend a gala with the dramatic backdrop of Alcatraz to add a bit of danger to their evening?

The rest of the guests weren’t so lucky, however, since they were City employees sent there to beg for donations. The invitations were issued to department heads of any and all of San Francisco’s myriad of city services.

Hospitals, schools, and even recreation centers were represented. The goal of the event was to put the underfunded agencies in the same place as the money.

Underlings such as Yeshato and herself were trotted out to give the privileged debutants a taste of the inner city. The Badger would drag them from one rich couple to another, telling stories of how the ER helped the city they all loved. It was their job to prove that S.F. General should get their checks instead of the Boys and Girls Club.

While she understood the necessity of the event, Sal had thankfully only been to one, and wanted to keep it that way. “I’m sorry, but I’m just not up to it.”

“Ah, but you and Richard make such a lovely couple. You, the young, impassioned emergency room resident, and he the selfless clinician who still dirties his hands in the County hospital. If that doesn’t get them to part with their money…”

Sal wasn’t sure they’d make that pretty a pair anymore. The thought of standing arm in arm, all smiles with Richard, made her stomach turn.

“Sorry.” Then she had an idea. “But have you asked Cammer? He and his wife adopted a homeless child that he originally treated in the ER.”

The Badger brightened. “I’d forgotten about that. Isn’t his wife the OB nurse who’s sterile?”

“I believe so.”

“Ah, how poetic.” Bersher made a beeline over to the young resident.

She almost felt guilty for sic’ing the Badger on the poor doctor, but if it got her out of the fund-raiser, so be it.

Free of Bersher, Sal went back to circulating around the room, dipping into this story and then another. Tasting Maria in each of them. This had turned out so much better than she could have ever planned. She couldn’t imagine a better way to grieve for her friend without collapsing into a heap of sobs.

Then she spotted Stacy drinking alone in the corner. While everyone else had formed shifting groups of their peers, Manning sat isolated against the wall.

Serves her right, was Sal’s first instinct, but then realized that reaction didn’t honor Maria’s memory very well. For as much as the head nurse couldn’t stand the resident, Maria would have been the first person over there, encouraging Stacey to join the rest of them.

So Sal picked up a mug and headed over to the small table. “Looks like you needed a refill.”

“I’m on shift in a few minutes,” Stacey answered flatly.

Under any other circumstances, Sal would have walked away, but today was Maria’s day, and if her best friend felt like channeling good cheer through her, Sal couldn’t argue.

Pulling up a chair, she sat down, running her finger along the rim of the glass. While she wanted to play Maria’s role, Sal had absolutely no idea of how to start this conversation. She and Manning had so little in common.

What could bridge the gap between them?

“Maria could be such a bitch,” Stacy said out of nowhere.

Hackles up, Sal bit her tongue. Getting into a knock-down, drag-out fight with Manning wasn’t going to help anyone. Still, how could she say such a thing, on such a day?

“I’m going to miss that,” Stacy announced, then drank the dregs of her beer as she rose. “A lot.”

Only then did Sal realize the resident had tears in her eyes. Stacy hadn’t retreated to distance herself from grieving, but to bear it privately.

Stacy was halfway out of the pub when Sal rushed to join her.

“Manning!”

The resident didn’t stop, however. Sal had to catch her at the corner of the block. “Stacy.”

Her rival couldn’t help but stop. The light had switched to red, and pedestrians took their lives in their own hands with the cabbies if they went into the crosswalk against the light. They seemed to feel that if they had the green, hitting you was just bonus points.

“Why don’t you go back inside and prove to everyone that you’re the kinder, gentler resident?” Stacy sneered.

On another day, Manning could have gotten her to rise to that bait, but Sal could see the resident’s streaked mascara.

“I just wanted to say thanks for finishing up my paperwork.”

Manning shrugged, wiping the black away from the corner of her eye. “It’s what Maria would’ve made me do.”

Now it was Sal’s eyes that spilled over. They might have shared an honest-to- goodness moment together, if the light hadn’t turned green.

Without a look back, Stacy crossed the street at a brisk walk.

“Sal! What are you doing out there when the party’s in here?” Paul yelled from the pub’s door.

She watched Manning disappear around the corner. They had been almost human to one another. Would miracles never cease?

CHAPTER 54

Tired, and her feet killing her, Sal pulled off her heels as she approached her apartment. Even if she’d forgotten which door was hers, the pile of telephone books, Chinese food ads, and “stay at home” job offers would have marked it as hers. How long had it been since she had been here?

Three days?

She was glad to be home. Alone. All she wanted to do was take off these itchy pantyhose and melt into a near-scalding bath. Granted, the tub was narrow and not very deep, but she could soak away the stress as long as she wanted without someone questioning the number of BTUs that she was wasting by leaving the hot water to drip into the bath. Richard didn’t seem to understand that was the only way to keep the tub at exactly the right temperature for nearly an hour.

Richard’s locks were remote-controlled. Fumbling with her keys, she’d almost forgotten what it was like to have to insert the metal into the door.

Damn him and his conveniences.

Hadn’t she learned something even more convenient? Praxis? She hadn’t been able to open the door to the boathouse, but the window? And she fired a gun, using just Praxis. Her palm lingered over the handle. Could she do it? Should she do it?

Remembering what disaster had sprung from her decisions the night before, she removed her hand and finally fit the key into its lock. The deadbolt gave the old-fashioned way, and she walked into her foyer.

Actually, the space wasn’t so much an entry as it was the end of a narrow hallway. The total sum of her apartment could fit into Richard’s master suite.

Sal flopped her shoes, laptop, and keys onto the tiny stand next to the door. While still making her way to the living room, she pulled off her stockings. She put at least three runs in them, but didn’t care.

She was home.

So many things about her apartment struck her. The vaguely vintage vibe she had going. Not enough to call it a coherent decorating theme, but enough that the circa-sixties gilded candlesticks made her smile.

The tiny kitchenette off to the left, which barely had the counter room for a microwave. Sal felt a welling of love for this place she’d created for herself, and then another feeling. A darker feeling.

She wasn’t alone.

CHAPTER 55

Sal knew that it was Tyr even before she turned the corner and found his broad back silhouetted against the afternoon sun. He looked out over the city, unmoving. He didn’t even acknowledge her entrance.

“Don’t you ever sleep?” she said sounding way more bitter than she realized. Would anyone blame her, though? How dare he show up, not even on her doorstep, but in her living room? The gall.

She really wanted to lay into him, force him to feel the pain he caused, and she wasn’t just talking about the puncture wound to her shoulder.

Unfortunately, the beer had given her a slight buzz, and her stomach grumbled loudly. Except for the peanuts at the pub, she hadn’t eaten in over a day.

Since it didn’t look like Tyr was going to leave any time soon, Sal headed over to the tiny kitchen.

“I take it you don’t have to eat, either?” Sal asked, even though she really didn’t expect an answer as she looked in the fridge. Not much there that hadn’t turned into a nasty science project. A few eggs were about the best she could do. Sal glanced over her shoulder. He hadn’t moved an inch.

It was like having a statue in your room. A brooding, contradictory statue just standing there, seemingly deaf and dumb.

With her back to him, concentrating on scrambling the eggs, Sal could almost imagine he wasn’t there. But not quite. His presence radiated across the living room in waves. If she quieted her mind, she could hear his soft, regular breaths. And that leather coat of his, Sal could sniff it out a mile away.

While Tyr’s presence had felt strained at first, it mellowed into something oddly familiar. Feeling more tired than angry, she went back to the refrigerator and found a soggy onion and a couple of mushrooms that didn’t look like they’d gone all the way killer-fungi.

The scrambled eggs smelled like the finest gourmet food San Francisco had to offer. Whether Tyr found it as appetizing was his problem.

While the eggs finished cooking, Sal started to set the table for two, then stopped. Had she ever set her table for two before? Either Richard cooked at his place, or they ate out. She wasn’t sure if another living person had used that second kitchen chair. It was virgin territory.

Sal piled the eggs onto a plastic platter she didn’t even realize had been hiding underneath the counter. Placing it in the middle of the table, she turned to Tyr. “You going to join me, or what?”

Still, he stood with his legs shoulder-width apart, knees locked. Sal knew the stance well. Usually about sixty hours into a seventy-two-hour shift. While Tyr seemed to want to project a stoic, unmoving presence, she knew he was on the verge of falling over.

Much softer. “How many days has it been since you’ve eaten?”

There was a pause, but not necessarily a delay. She could see his muscles tense under his coat, his head cocking ever so slightly in her direction.

“Four,” the word was more of a rumble than a spoken answer.

“Then sit,” Sal urged, as she pulled the chair out for him.

Tyr didn’t move. Sighing, she went back to the sink and drew up two glasses of water. The milk had gone way bad.

When she turned back, Sal found him devouring the eggs. She’d nearly forgotten how quietly he could move when he wanted to. Also, in his land they clearly didn’t understand the concept of a communal plate as he dug into the eggs with a vengeance.

Sal sat across from him. When she was little, growing up in the Spanish ghetto of the Mission district, she’d found a starving puppy. Every night Sal had brought out her leftovers to the scrawny thing, and he had gulped them down without even tasting the food, just like Tyr. Which was probably for the best, given her meager cooking supplies.

Only after the last speck of the eggs was consumed did Tyr glance up. He was nowhere near full. Just like the puppy. He looked almost ashamed of his hunger. Whatever anger she had felt melted away under those sad blue eyes.

“I think I can scare up some more.”

His hand gripped her wrist. “Thanks be…” Tyr looked up, seeming almost shy. “I know not the lady to thank.”

For a moment she didn’t understand the question, and then realized he didn’t know her name. “Sal.”

“I do not think when your mother put your smooth cheek to her breast for the first suckling, that was the name she uttered.”

Sal blushed. Of course it wasn’t. But how she hated her given name! It was so… so girlie. “Salista.”

“Salista…” Somehow when Tyr rolled the name across his tongue, it didn’t sound hateful at all. “Your mother may not have the word for essence, yet she truly captured yours.”

Her cheeks must have been fuchsia by now. Her intimacy alert was ringing loudly in her ear. His words were intimate. His hand against the tender flesh of her wrist was intimate. His mixture of sweat and leather was intimate. She had to find some way to counteract it.

That repressed anger welled again. His sweet words now didn’t erase his action in the museum. “Yet you were so willing to sacrifice it, weren’t you?”

His fingers released her hand, and he was up and out of the chair, heading back to the window. It was her turn to grab his arm.

“No, damn it! Look at me.”

It took him drawing upon a strength greater than that he used to fight the beast to turn back to her.

“How could you do that to me?”

“I am dead blood,” he explained without explaining.

Sal shook her head. “That doesn’t mean you don’t have morals.”

“I hunt beasts. I kill beasts. To expect more of a dead blood is folly.”

Tyr winced as he tried to pull away from her. The action opened the edge of his coat. Beneath the leather, his white shirt was torn to shreds, revealing red, angry claw marks across his chest.

Even though she’d seen him receive the wounds, Sal was still shocked at how bad they looked. She had assumed his Praxis, or whatever it was, would heal the deep wounds as they had his wrist cuts.

“We’ve got to dress these.”

Tyr jerked free of her grasp. “I need no witch’s care.”

Fear and concern converged. “You know, for someone who keeps showing up at my door, you might want to watch your tone.”

His eyes narrowed as his lips struggled with a retort, the hurt clear on his face. To see him so vulnerable bled all the frustration from her voice.

“Your wounds are badly infected. Do you know what that means?”

A curt shake of his head.

In so many ways, Tyr was the master. Of weapons. Of Praxis. Of hunting. But in so many other ways he was nearly a babe new to the world.

“There are tiny, unseen organisms called bacteria that attack your tissues. If they get into your bloodstream, they can kill you.”

Tyr’s jaw clenched. “Tales woven by your kind, to sell your wares.”

Well, she could tighten her jaw as well. “Believe me or not, but this infection could bring you low even faster than the beast himself.”

He seemed unmoved. Perhaps before, she might have thought him stubborn. Now, Sal could feel the pain within. Tyr simply couldn’t admit that he didn’t understand what she was talking about.

“If your Praxis is so powerful, why then are these wounds so bad? And worsening with each passing hour?”

Tyr’s eyes squinted, seemingly trying to determine if she tucked an insult to his skill in there somewhere. “My range of potions has narrowed. The vial meant to keep the blight at bay drained a day ago.”

“Was it blood?” Sal asked, but already suspected the answer.

“No. But a potent tonic from the scum found on hardened bread.”

Sal smiled. That would be mold. In particular, penicillium chrysogenum. In layman’s terms, penicillin. Little did he know that some of his Praxis was based on her witchcraft. However, she didn’t feel like expending the effort to fight. She went for a much more direct route.

“Are you going out to hunt tonight?”

Tyr didn’t even answer. He didn’t have to. What else would he do?

“Then I would think you’d want to be as strong as possible. Or is that just a witch’s fable?”

Whatever the battle that raged within him, it broke.

He sighed heavily. “If it would be no bother.”

CHAPTER 56

Sal returned from the bathroom with her medicinal supplies to find Tyr still struggling to remove his bandolier. He had not been lying. The bandolier was nearly empty of tokens. Whatever supply of blood and potions he had come into her world with was nearly drained.

Hurriedly setting the bottles on the table, Sal grabbed the sash.

“Let me.”

Then she realized why he was having so much trouble. Dried blood had nearly glued his skin, his shirt, and his jacket together. Gingerly she lifted the coat away, inch by inch. Muscles rippled under her fingers as Tyr gritted his teeth against the pain. One especially tender spot caused him to flinch so badly that Sal gulped and couldn’t go on.

Of all the years in the ER, how many victims had she treated? But she didn’t think she’d ever been so tentative or shared another’s hurt in this way. Each time he winced, she felt her own flesh cry.

Her scientific mind knew that her nociceptors, those tiny, fine nerve endings honed for pain, could not possibly be receiving input from Tyr’s nerves, yet an ache that wasn’t her own settled upon her chest.

“Finish it,” he whispered.

“This is going to hurt.”

Tyr didn’t answer. He just looked away. He was ready, but she wasn’t so sure. At some point the garments had to come off, though, to clean the wounds properly. Bracing herself, Sal grabbed the edge of his coat with both hands and jerked it aside.

They both gasped as the wet sound of the wounds being reopened filled the room. Tyr tipped forward and caught himself on the table. A wave of nausea rolled over Sal as if it were her skin oozing a mixture of blood and pus. Recovering a little more quickly than Tyr, she finished removing his coat, and then ripped his linen shirt off, leaving him naked from the waist up.

She should have been repulsed. Three huge claw marks left jagged wounds, but the sight of those broad shoulders and taut abs did nothing to repel her. Even though Sal thought she preferred smooth-chested men like Richard, the thick black hair that coursed over Tyr’s torso made her want to reach out and run her fingers through it. And that happy trail? She could only imagine where it led.

It took Tyr trying to straighten up and failing in his attempt to remind Sal that she might react as a woman, but she was a doctor first.

“Sit.”

This time, he didn’t argue. He more poured himself into the chair rather than sat down.

Sal surveyed her medical supplies. They were meager at best. One would think a doctor would be better stocked, but when you had an entire hospital at your disposal, who needed the stuff at home?

What was the phrase? A cobbler’s son never has any shoes?

That was certainly the case here. Instead of an array of gentle antiseptics, Sal only had hydrogen peroxide, which was going to burn like hell, or alcohol, which only burned worse.

They’d get the job done, but ouch.

“You need to brace yourself.”

Tyr sneered. “I am battle-hardened.”

His chiseled shoulders and his perfect pectorals confirmed his words, but Sal didn’t think he knew what he was in for.

She drenched a gauze in peroxide. “I’d grab hold of something.”

But Tyr’s pride seemed too great for that. Not knowing what else to do, Sal pressed the biting antiseptic against the wounds.

His startled cry would have been echoed by her own if she hadn’t gritted her teeth first. Tyr not only braced against the table, but his fingernails dug into the wood.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Sal tried to soothe, as the peroxide bubbled in the wounds. She knew it hurt like a bitch, but she needed it to finish its job of killing off the bacteria before wiping the caustic fluid away. “Breathe. Breathe through it.”

Another set of advice that Tyr ignored. Not that she could blame him. It was hard to override the body’s pain reflex to clamp down.

“Just another second…”

Actually, it was another twenty or so seconds of agony, but finally the bubbles died down, and Sal hastily wiped the antiseptic off. She knew, however, from the burning of her own skin, that the pain was far from over.

Tyr’s exhale came in a rush, and then he couldn’t stop breathing. Nearly panting, his body tried to make up for the lost oxygen. Sal wanted to reach out, put a hand on his back, but she feared he would see it as more of an insult than a comfort.

Finally, his respirations steadied, and he sat upright. Sal showed him the tube of antibiotic cream. “This shouldn’t be as bad, but…”

CHAPTER 57

A single nod answered her unspoken question of whether to give him a few more minutes to recover, or just to do it. Putting a dollop of the ointment onto a Q-tip, she gently applied it to the deep slashes. His only reaction was a clenching of his fists. It may not have been as painful, but this step took so much longer. She needed to make sure to treat each and every nook and cranny of the ragged lacerations. It was the only way to keep the bacteria at bay.

“So is this why you came here? So I could care for your wounds?”

Tyr didn’t answer. Instead, he just tilted his chin and gave her his squint-eyed, left-sided frown. It should have been a look of disdain, but instead it warmed her. Why? Because he trusted that she would understand its meaning. She would know his frown meant that he never would have sought out her “witch” help for something as minor as festering wounds.

In that moment of their shared bond, Sal realized how close they had become. Physically. Sometime while she was caring for him, she had sunk to her knees, bringing her level with his chest. At the same time, he had lifted his arm to allow her better access to his wounds. Which nearly brought them into an embrace.

With his head tilted down, his stubble was so close to her forehead that she could almost imagine it brushing her skin. She could almost imagine him tilting her chin up. She could almost imagine too much.

Flustered, Sal pressed down too hard on the wound. Tyr groaned, his hand flying up to her arm, gripping it, warning her of the pain she had caused, asking her to take better care.

Doing her best to ignore his warm clasp, Sal finished tending the wound and rapidly pulled away from him.

To cover her discomfort, she asked, “Why did you show up, then?”

Tyr, as per usual, didn’t immediately answer. Instead, he brought his arm up as if raising his sword. He winced, but could finish the motion. Which he shouldn’t have been able to do. To her surprise, the wounds looked better. Not that the pus had been cleaned off better, but a healthy, healing tissue better. The claw marks were on the mend.

“I’ll get some bandaging material.”

Tyr shook his head and opened his hand. In it was a small vial only a quarter full of a pink-tinged fluid. “This will seal the flesh far better than any cloth.”

“Is this blood?”

Sal tried to focus on Tyr’s words as their hands touched upon the exchange. “In the raw form it comes in, but it has been distilled down to nearly pure essence… use it sparingly.”

She leaned the bottle on its side to get a better look at the contents. The liquid didn’t seem that special, but she already knew enough of Tyr and his Praxis that it must be special indeed. If blood was precious, distilled essence must be coveted. Very carefully, Sal opened the vial and allowed a single small drop to fall onto the tip of a fresh Q-tip.

“From whose blood did this arise?”

“My own.”

Stopping in the middle of applying the balm, Sal glanced up. “I thought you were dead blood.”

“I am,” he answered, looking past her to the window beyond.

“Wait a minute,” Sal said, feeling very, very confused. She really felt she had gained a minimal grasp on this blood thing, but now? “I thought that meant your blood held no essence.”

Tyr shrugged. “Not enough to ask or command, but what you hold in your hand is HeartsBlood.”

“HeartsBlood?”

“Blood pulled from my heart.”

CHAPTER 58

Sal couldn’t have heard correctly. “It couldn’t be.”

“Upon my thirteenth summer, Kerrasis himself punctured my breastbone and drew out an entire pint.” Tyr inclined his head toward the tiny vial. “After his distillation, that is all that was left.”

With a whole new level of respect, Sal looked at the vial. How she wished she had a micropipette to take out the absolutely smallest drop. In her effort to be so cautious, her hand shook, and half a drop spilled off the Q-tip and onto the carpet.

Tyr’s sharp intake of breath was greater than when she had been cleaning his wound.

“When it is gone, there is no more.” He recorked the vial and took it back from her. “With no serum, such a wound would be… when there is no more…” His hand went toward his chest, then fell away. “I am no more.”

Oh, God. Why did he have to tell her that? Why entrust her with such responsibility? She was a doctor, used to holding people’s lives in her hands, but for some reason, she was shaken. Sal didn’t want Tyr’s life in her hands. She hadn’t shown that she was very adept at protecting it.

Sal had bitched him out about offering her up as a sacrifice, but how well had she taken care of his life? How many times had she placed him in jeopardy? And now to waste such a precious substance?

“Do you mean it literally? When the bottle is empty, you die?”

“These claw marks used nearly two drops. I have suffered injuries tenfold worse.”

“Yeah, right,” she snorted, and then realized he wasn’t kidding. “Those were down to the bone.”

“But few in number.”

She searched his blue eyes. He wasn’t exaggerating. As a matter of fact, Sal didn’t think Tyr knew how.

“If the beast were to land a clean blow… I do not think I have enough to mend such a breach.”

Sal hadn’t thought she could have felt much worse about the spill until now. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry. Is there—”

But he lifted a hand to stop her sputtering. “Dwell not upon it. My fate was sealed long before you.”

CHAPTER 59

“I don’t understand,” Sal still hurting that she’d brought Tyr one step closer to death.

Tyr still didn’t answer, but she could sense that he wasn’t withholding. His eyes had lost their focus as he stared ahead, seeming to search across time for the words.

“To be deemed ready for the drawing of HeartsBlood is…” His eyes darted, scanning a world she couldn’t see. “What boy does not wish to be deemed worthy? To prove his bravery and head out into the forest to face fang and claw?”

He looked down at her with such a mixture of pride and hurt, it nearly undid her. Sal cautiously went back to applying the HeartsBlood salve as she asked, “At thirteen, you battled beasts?”

Tyr nodded. “After the letting, you learn to hunt with your thane. You are even trusted to track alone, but…I was fooled. It was not one beast I tracked, nor even a pair, but a pack.”

Sal couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice. “There can be more than one?” Just the thought of a single, huge, snarling beast threatened her sphincters. But two? Or more?

“There were five… they bayed, hounding me across the full breadth and width of the forest. Finally when my legs could run no more… I… I climbed to the top of the tallest tree.”

Sal shook her head. “That’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

He glanced over. Clearly in a world of dead bloods and beasts, it was.

“Nevertheless, they circled until my thane found me and chased the beasts off.” A smile that Sal didn’t think Tyr realized was there played at the edge of his lips. “To not let him think me a coward, I climbed down with the speed of a startled squirrel, making it only halfway before I tumbled the rest of the way.”

“You were seriously injured?”

Tyr chuckled. “No. A strained knee was all of it.”

“Then I don’t understand.”

“My horse was chased off days before, and my thane’s mount was injured in the skirmish.”

Sal added, “So you were forced to walk out of the forest.”

“In my shame, my fear of recrimination, my determination to not be judged too slow, I snuck three drops of my HeartsBlood just to ease the pain to my knee so that I might keep pace with my thane.”

She watched as his eyes lost focus, and his tone softened. “To be so young and so certain that my jarred knee was the worst with which the world could punish me. To think those three drops could never stand between myself and the black veil…”

Tyr turned to her, his gaze sharpened. “So do not dwell upon the loss of less than a single drop, Salista.”

CHAPTER 60

To hear Tyr say her name, her full name, tugged at something deep inside her. A something she hadn’t even known existed.

Trying to hide the rush of emotion, she turned her entire eight years of medical school and four years of residency to carefully painting the precious fluid onto the wounds. She coaxed the HeartsBlood to spread out to maximize the coverage, so that she didn’t need to ask for even another drop.

“Does that seem good enough?”

Tentatively, Tyr’s fingers inspected the gashes. “As well as I would expect of a witch.”

As if hiding his own response to their moment, Tyr rose and turned his broad, tan back to her, taking up his vigil before the window again.

Another stalemate. Each time they made the smallest strides toward reaching some kind of accord, it was shattered before it could come into being. Leaving him to a brooding that approached supernatural levels, Sal turned to the very ordinary task of clearing the table.

Sal was well on her way into washing the dishes when Tyr said, “I…”

She waited until it was clear that he wasn’t going to finish.

“You?” Sal asked without even turning from the sink.

A long pause stretched out, which she filled with the clink of rinsing silverware. As much as she wanted to drag the words from him, Sal worried that prying would only drive him further into his melancholy.

“I do not hearken to this Physics.”

Slowly, she turned to find that he had yet to do the same, his bare back a map of rippling muscles. The words he spoke seemed to physically hurt him as much as the stinging antiseptic.

“Let me get this straight. You need my help again?” she asked as much to clarify in her own mind what he wanted as to respond to his words, but Tyr turned on his heel, glaring.

“I would not go so far.”

How many times could he insult her? How many more times would she let him? “You know what? Figure out the complex scientific field of theoretical physics for yourself.”

She took up washing the dishes again. Because of her ignorance, she’d taken actions that resulted in horrible consequences. Sal wouldn’t allow him to place her in that situation again.

Finishing the last plate, Sal wiped down the porcelain sink, then dried off the faucet. There really wasn’t anything more to be done, but she was loath to turn around. Afraid Tyr would be gone, but also worried that he was still there.

But she couldn’t just stand there, towel in hand. Folding the terrycloth, Sal turned to find that not only Tyr was still there, he was studying her. How long had he been doing that? How could she not have felt his eyes on her back?

His gaze went down her length, then back up again until he found her eyes. Sal didn’t back down from his stare. In fact, she cocked her head.

“Well?”

Tyr looked like he wanted to retreat to one of his edicts, force her to do his bidding without explanation, but equally he seemed to realize that it would no longer work. He struggled to speak, but no words came.

Sal couldn’t take it anymore. “Look, unless you fess up to the fact that you are lost, you’re never going to trust me enough to tell me what I need to know to help.” Still, he didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch. “Why is it so hard for you to admit that you need my help?”

“Does it come so easily for you?” he asked.

“I’m not the issue here.”

Tyr took a step forward, narrowing his brow. “Then speak the words to me. Surrender to my aid.”

She could feel her back go up as his arrogance became palpable. He didn’t seem comfortable unless he was the one in charge. Well, she was sorry to inform him, but she had to deal with surgeons every day. “Go ahead. Walk right out that door. I’ll be just fine.”

Okay, maybe that wasn’t exactly true, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Truly? For by my recollection, you have dabbled, have you not?”

“What are you talking about?”

Another stride as he closed the distance between them. “Did you not in the forest command silence?”

Sal suddenly didn’t want Tyr to approach. Didn’t want to even look at him, but he held her gaze.

“And again, used your blood, your essence, to lure the beast?”

His eyebrow arched, demanding she answer. With an uneven breath, she nodded. How had he turned the tables so quickly? With another step, Tyr was but a few feet away. She could already feel the heat from his body. Smell the mixture of blood and leather. Where had her self-righteous anger gotten off to?

“Then commanded the weapon to discharge, injuring the beast in the course?”

“I had to,” she argued, but knew it sounded lame even to her ears.

Gazes locked, Tyr stepped right in front of her. So close that Sal felt the sink counter dig into her spine as she tried to inch back. Her instinct was to push him away, but Sal feared how those taut muscles would feel under her palms.

“How do you think the beast began his descent?” Tyr searched her eyes. “It was a small thing. A turning of a knob. An urging of obedience.”

He leaned in, bringing his lips alongside her ear. They nearly touched the tender skin of her lobe, but instead his breath caressed her neck. “Speak that you have not felt the temptation again, when there was no deadly need. Speak that, and I shall depart, never to return.”

God, Tyr was so close, too close. In proximity and in truth. She wanted to deny it, but where had her thoughts gone when she couldn’t find the right shirt this morning? Worse, just a few minutes ago, when she fumbled her keys, Sal had felt the urge to just try the “Open” command again. She’d almost succeeded at the boathouse. With a little practice, she knew she could get it.

That didn’t even count all the times she’d used the laptop’s connection without him.

Tyr pulled back just far enough to stare into her eyes. Then he cocked his head, just as she had done, echoing her question. “Well?”

CHAPTER 61

“I’ve thought of it…” was the most that she could admit.

“And without proper guidance, you would begin the descent.”

Sal could only muster a nod. Just like so many other aspects of the last few days, she hadn’t thought her urges through. They seemed either so noble or so inconsequential that she didn’t give them a second thought.

With Tyr close, his musky scent filling her nostrils and enflaming an animal instinct to rip the rest of his clothes off, she could sense the beast within.

“Then we both have a void,” he whispered.

Again, she nodded, too ashamed to speak her agreement out loud.

Tyr’s tone held no recrimination, though. Instead, he offered his hand. “To fill this, we will speak the words of unity.”

Sal laid her palm in his, not knowing what to expect.

He searched her face, then whispered, “I have need of you.”

She had to remind herself over and over again that she was engaged.

Engaged to a great guy. An incredible guy. A guy she couldn’t picture at the moment.

“For?” she asked, half-hoping the answer had nothing to do with the beast.

“To learn the working of your world.”

Relieved, yet disappointed, Sal kept her tone neutral. “And I need you as well.”

“For?” Tyr asked as he pressed her hand against his bare chest.

Pulse pounding in her ears, Sal could only think of his bulging pectorals, so she mimicked his words, although she was certain she couldn’t completely mask the desire in her voice. “To learn the working of your world.”

Tyr’s other arm grasped her around the waist, pulling her up against him, until there was no space left at all between them. He lowered his head. God, was he going to kiss her? Was she going to let him?

Then a sharp pain lanced her palm. She gasped, but Tyr forced their hands palms together as a warmth spread across her skin.

Blood. Not just hers, but his as well. He had cut them both.

“Our essences have mingled with intent,” Tyr intoned as he released his grip. “We are bound until our purpose is fulfilled.”

CHAPTER 62

Standing by the kitchen table, Sal’s palm itched. Tyr hadn’t let her wipe off the blood until it had completely dried. The small nick had already healed, like all of Tyr’s inflicted injuries did, but the skin itched, nonetheless. She tried not to think of what that meant. She tried not to think to what extent they were bound. She tried not to think of how proud she felt that Tyr had chosen to align himself with her, for whatever the purpose. She tried really hard not to think that the blood drying on her palm felt more real and binding than the diamond on her left finger.

Clasping her hand into a fist, Sal forced herself to listen to Tyr’s explanation as he spread his torn shirt across the table. He gently smoothed the fabric out, pointing to the gashes.

“As great as was the beast’s desire to tear it asunder, the cloth wished to stay whole.” He glanced at her. Sal inclined her head, even though she really only processed half the words. Despite her nod, Tyr didn’t seem to believe she understood.

His stern expression forced her to pay full attention to his instruction. “Essence and intent are entwined. To know only of a thing’s essence is of no use. To know of a thing’s intent, but not touch its essence is an equally vain endeavor.”

Sal looked at the white linen splashed with red stains. Her eyes strayed to Tyr’s chest. In truth, his flesh was better healed than the shirt. The angry rake marks had paled to a cool pink and were half the size they had been just a few minutes ago. The pain had clearly diminished as well, for Tyr’s arm moved without hesitation.

“Got it,” she said absently.

His eyes squinted as he pointed to the garment. “Speak to me then of what lies before you.”

Feeling like she had back in anatomy lab when she was asked to identify the major suture lines of the skull when she’d spent the evening bowling rather than studying, Sal froze. Sure, she’d known there were multiple fissures between the skull bones, but to name them? It had been beyond her reach then, just as describing the specifics of this wounded shirt were now.

Tyr frowned. “Let your lips not utter words your heart does not understand.”

Blushing, she had to look away as he expanded on his point. “To ask, or even command, you must know of a thing’s intent. No matter your blood or skill, you can get no item to work against its inherent nature.”

“I’m sorry. You lost me.”

It looked like Tyr tried hard not to sigh, but failed. “Would you think to ask this garment to boil water?”

“No,” she answered firmly. Even to her, that would be ridiculous.

“Why?”

Now that was a more difficult question. The answer just seemed so obvious that it was hard to find the words to explain.

“That’s not what clothes do.”

Tyr nodded sharply. “They have no intent but to clothe.”

Sal took it in, slowly. “So even though everything has an essence that can be tapped into, you can only get them to do what they ordinarily were created to do?”

“And slightly beyond, with much skill and patience. But yes, you spoke the right of it.”

Getting more into it, Sal looked to the shirt with a new perspective. “The cloth was torn, so now we ask it to sew itself back together?”

“Does wool thread itself? Pierce its own texture?”

She shook her head. Of course not. But how would the shirt fix itself? “I want to say that it should heal, but that doesn’t sound correct either.”

A smile played at the edge of his lips, but he squashed the grin before it fully formed. “You sooth more than you know… ponder how flesh becomes whole.”

“Well, damaged tissue releases chemotactic hormones that attract fibrocytes that—”

Tyr put a hand on her arm, startling her. He gave a light squeeze. “Not as a healer, but as a woman.”

He removed his hand, but she could still feel his touch, the warmth now permanently recorded in her brain so that she might forever remember it. That small piece of their history tucked away safely amongst all the rest.

That was it!

“It mends because the parts wish to be made whole again.”

A slow nod of his head. “Think of the threads as a flock that has been scattered across a pond. What would the birds do?”

“Fly to one another,” Sal followed his logic, but still didn’t buy it. “But like you said, threads don’t sew. So isn’t asking them to mend going against their intent?”

“They might not darn, but do they not move? Do they not flow? Is silk not the happiest when caught by a gentle breeze, fluttering?”

Sal had never thought of fabric like that before, but yeah, her pink ruffled top certainly seemed to enjoy the breeze. It didn’t seem like that much of a stretch of the imagination that wool would feel uncomfortable in the tropical heat. It wanted to be in the cold. It wanted to keep someone warm.

“But the silk doesn’t move itself. The wind does.”

Tyr indicated the shirt. “Pick it up.”

She did as instructed, with a new appreciation for the thread under her fingers. Butterflies unsettled her stomach. Even though it was only a shirt in her hands, Sal could sense the greater mystery within the weave.

“Flick the garment as if unsettling a wrinkle as you ask it to mend.”

“I thought I couldn’t work with essence without corrupting myself?”

CHAPTER 63

Tyr gritted his teeth. Sal realized that he hadn’t done that in a while. Up until her question, he’d actually been relaxed. Well, maybe not relaxed, but not balled up into a fretting knot, either.

“Do you have trust in me?” he asked with an urgency that rattled her.

Her instinct was to reassure him immediately that she did, then she remembered him forcing her down onto her seat with an edict in the residents’ room, not caring that he took away her free will. Then in the museum. His deception. The beast’s tongue on her breast. Wanting to trust and actually trusting were two different things.

“No.” The fallen look on his face forced her to rush on. “I mean, you’ve kept me in the dark this whole time. I understand why you did it, but you did trick me into that circle—”

Tyr raised his hand abruptly. “Your confidence is yours to give or keep.” He took the shirt from her and snapped his wrist as he said, “Mend.”

When the shirt settled onto the table, back from its brief flight, Sal couldn’t tell where the cuts had been. The fabric was as smooth as the day it was woven together. Even the stain was completely gone. Tyr’s shirt glistened white, seemingly happy to be whole again.

Sal touched the surface, amazed at the simple genius of it. She turned to ask Tyr how she could have safely mended the shirt’s essence when he turned away abruptly, seeming suddenly shy of his naked torso. Rapidly he donned the healed shirt, only turning back to her once the garment was fully buttoned.

“It is time to seek this house of Physics.”

CHAPTER 64

Sal trotted up the bus steps and scanned her ride pass twice. She turned to find Tyr still at the curb. “Come on.”

Still he stood, shifting awkwardly in his boots.

Motioning to the driver to give her a second, she joined him. “This is the fastest way to the university.”

“We must keep to the shadows.”

She grabbed the sleeve of his coat and pulled him along. “If you want to get there before…” Sal lowered her voice, “ ‘him,’ then we need to get moving.”

Reluctantly, Tyr followed her up the bus steps, his eyes darting to the myriad of strangers, his discomfort palpable. Sal had to keep a grip on his sleeve to keep Tyr from finding his blade.

As they made their way down the aisle, glances were cast their way, but it wasn’t Tyr in leather pants, corseted white shirt, and floor-length overcoat that turned heads. Hell, in San Francisco, everyone just assumed he was gay and heading to a bondage bar. No, people were trying to figure out what she was doing with him.

Sal had changed into a pair of nondescript jeans and a T-shirt, but it was apparent that if she’d dressed like a drag queen, they would’ve gotten less attention.

They passed by several empty seats, yet Tyr urged her forward. It wasn’t until they reached the back of the bus that he allowed them to settle in. His back was rigid against the vehicle’s frame, his eyes scanning the passengers.

She’d let him worry about them as she booted up her laptop. The irony that her vow to never use the computer again had been broken within hours of making it was not lost on her as the hard drive sparked to life.

Instead of the screen instantly being filled with information on the university’s physics department, as Sal assumed it would be, the computer launched normally. Which meant slowly. She’d almost forgotten how long ninety seconds felt like.

When the laptop was finally ready to use, it couldn’t connect to the Internet. She clicked on the error message to find that there weren’t any wireless networks in range.

“You’re kidding me.”

Sal clicked on the Internet link again as she said, “Connect.”

The same error message popped up.

“Why are you doing this?” she hissed.

Tyr leaned over to the blank screen. “Why are you not scrying?”

“Good question.” Another error window. “It won’t connect.” Then another.

“Have you angered him in some way?”

Sal scoffed at the concept, and then remembered the night before. Clearly, it had tried to contact her through Richard’s computer, and she had ignored it.

Could laptops really pout?

As the screen filled with error messages, she guessed that they could. “What am I supposed to do?”

Tyr gave her that “How dumb are you?” look that he had perfected through frequent use. “Give voice to your sorrows?”

“I’ve never heard you apologize to an object before,” Sal snapped, and then realized a greater truth. “In fact, you usually demand things.”

“Of simple objects to follow their intent? For certain. But an intricate contrivance such as a scrying box? Had I been able to press one to do my bidding, I would not have required your aid.”

Sal struggled to answer as two revelations struck her. The first was that she might actually be better at something than Tyr. The second she gave voice to.

“You mean the more complex the object, the more difficult it is to make it do what you want?”

Tyr indicated around them. “Could I press this carriage into service?”

CHAPTER 65

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly.

Sal was half expecting a snort or sneer, but Tyr simply leaned back.

“Neither do I, but to attempt such a feat would take a grand purpose of intent and require vials upon vials of blood to accomplish.”

“So blood amplifies your intent?”

“The art of Praxis requires the weaving of many elements. The essence of the blood must complement the form of the object, how closely the task aligns itself with the object’s intended use, and then, of course, the intent of the asker.”

Sal had gotten lost halfway through the list. Tyr had always made Praxis look so simple. A drop of blood and “boom,” something amazing happened. To think in those life-and-death moments that he was taking into account all those variables, and somehow to still be able to save their lives was damn close to a miracle.

“Could we use blood to make the laptop connect?”

Again, the “Why did I pick her out of all the people in this city to help me?” frown. “Would you waste blood when kindness could accomplish the identical task?”

Even though she felt more than a little silly apologizing to her laptop, Sal grasped Tyr’s point, especially after the disaster of spilling his HeartsBlood.

She poised her fingers over the keyboard. “Sorry,” she said as she hit the ‘Enter’ key, but still no Internet connection.

Frustrated, Sal looked at Tyr, whose frown deepened. “That was your sorrow given form?”

“I thought I was supposed to use a single word filled with my intent?”

“Is what you ask a simple matter?”

Since Sal wasn’t even sure what Wi-Fi was in practical terms, she guessed it would be pretty complex for her laptop to generate on its own.

Sal looked down at her laptop. “Look, I’m really sorry for—”

Tyr put his hand upon her arm, as the guy from across the aisle gave her a funny look. “It must only feel your intent when the command is spoken.”

He placed her fingers upon the keyboard again. Closing her eyes, Sal let her fingers linger on the keys as she thought of the night before. Her refusal to acknowledge her laptop. Her vow to chuck it in the garbage and buy a new Mac. She knew now how wrong she had been. How much she needed her laptop and their special bond.

“Connect,” she said tenderly.

Sal wasn’t at all surprised when she opened her eyes that not only was she surfing the Internet, but her laptop had seven different windows open, all vital to their intercepting the beast.

Trusting the laptop to prioritize, Sal focused on the uppermost window. Painfully, it was a new autopsy report. The deceased had died last night. Killed several hours before the museum massacre. In addition, the poor soul hadn’t died of bloody wounds, but of a mild anemia and more pronounced encephalitis.

The work of the beast when he needed information.

The deceased was Mika Ankaportia, a grad student at the San Francisco State physics department. More importantly, the young woman had been a very specific professor’s assistant. A Dr. Lionel Hing.

Moving on, Sal found the next window to be the doctor’s Facebook page. The bespectacled Asian looked barely out of his teens, yet had three doctorates. And his list of publications went on and on, down three full pages. There was almost too much information. It would take her hours to sort through his work to determine why the beast was so interested in him.

However, her laptop already knew that, didn’t he? She scrolled back up to the top of the page, and noticed that an “office hours” link was underlined. In red. Sal hit the link and smiled.

She turned to Tyr. “I know who the beast’s next victim is and exactly where he’s going to be.”

CHAPTER 66

Tyr set a hard pace as they climbed the winding path through the university’s campus. They angled toward the Atkins-Levine Physical Science Research Wing. Even though the hot afternoon sun had mellowed as the sun sank lower on the horizon, it was still warm, given they were practically running straight up one of San Francisco’s infamously steep hills.

The professor’s office hours, held in his lab, weren’t until seven o’clock, and the sun didn’t fully set until eight, when the beast would begin his hunt, but try telling that to Tyr.

Finally hitting a patch of level ground, they were slowed by a cluster of other pedestrians. Sal repositioned her laptop bag and caught her breath.

Tyr also paused to survey the tree lined, park like setting around them.

“You have certainty that this is Physics’ home?”

Given the pace that Tyr had kept them at since exiting the bus, they hadn’t exactly had the opportunity to discuss the finer points of the quantitative sciences. So as not to be conspicuous, they continued at a much slower pace as they headed to the building.

“Quantum physics isn’t a place, but a discipline. A science,” Sal clarified. “It attempts to explain… well, the unexplainable.”

“Why then, does the beast quest for such knowledge?”

Sal sighed. He wanted an answer which she wasn’t qualified to give. Granted, she had taken physics in college, but it had been the “physics for poets” edition. The easy-on-the-eyes version where you calculated the stress point for a lever or the volume of a champagne glass. There had been nothing theoretical about it. They built simple circuit boards and demonstrated why ice skaters who pulled their arms in spun faster.

Clearly, the beast didn’t need any of the physics she had to offer. Luckily, her laptop had already researched several of Hing’s projects. Sal only grasped about a third of the concepts, and even at that, she had no idea what the beast wanted with Lionel’s work.

Tyr looked over at her expectantly. She couldn’t disappoint him.

Wouldn’t disappoint him.

“I’m not sure, but Hing is using the hydrogen atom as a—”

“Who is this Atom?”

Sal groaned. This was going to be a very long explanation.

Regrouping, she picked up a small pinecone from the side of the pathway. “Okay. Imagine this was so tiny, tiny, tiny, tiny, tiny, tiny that you couldn’t see it with your naked eye, but it was still there.”

Tyr frowned, but nodded.

“Now imagine that it’s hollow. In the middle would be a cluster, like seeds. That’s the nucleus.” Sal made sure he seemed to follow her. “On the outside is an even tinier fly, the electron, zipping around the seeds, forming the shell. But this covering is only an illusion. It’s there, but not there.”

“The shell is but the blur of the fly’s beating wings?”

Okay, maybe this wasn’t going to be as hard as she thought.

“Exactly.” This next concept was a little bit harder to grasp. “Now these flies can also zip around other seeds. Like my electrons are joining with air atoms then leaving and joining with your atoms. It’s a pretty accepted fact that over the course of a year a single electron has traveled all over the world and back again.”

Tyr inclined his head again. He was taking this way better than she thought a guy would who had started out thinking physics was a person.

“Right, now to the weird part. The space between the seeds and the fly you’d think would be empty, is instead filled with something called plasma, which is made up of…”

Well, Lionel’s paper implied it was filled with quantum fluctuations created by quarks and anti-quarks, gluons and anti-gluons, and a bunch of other high-speed particles Sal had never heard of before. She didn’t think her seed and fly analogy was going to hold up much longer.

“Never mind. Hing thinks this plasma gloms onto the electron, and the electron then takes a tiny bit of the plasma with it on its journey.”

“Of course,” Tyr said, nodding vigorously.

CHAPTER 67

Sal halted. “Of course? You mean you just understood that?”

“Did you not?”

At first she felt defensive, but then Sal just shrugged. “No, not all of it, really.”

“What you have named ‘plasma’ is essence. Your electron is nothing more than intent.” Her mind raced to finish the analogy. Tyr must have seen her struggling, as he continued, “This electron bathes in essence, then carries your will to another.”

Sal could have been embarrassed that the guy in leather was the one explaining science to her, but she wasn’t.

He frowned. “This Lionel speaks of nothing that the beast does not already know. His toils must have revealed greater truths.”

“Oh no!” Sal exclaimed as she scrambled to pull her laptop out.

Tyr stopped as well. “Speak your concern.”

“Oh, God, I didn’t make the connection. I didn’t understand the implications…”

Sal opened her laptop, and the screen bloomed with the video clip from Lionel’s website. She guessed that the laptop had forgiven her.

She hit “Play.”

As the scientists milled around a vat of clear, green gel, Sal hurriedly explained. “Hing is trying to prove…”

She couldn’t say it. Instead, she let Tyr watch as an eager grad student, the now-dead Mika, turned her back to the green vat. Lionel handed her a red ball. She closed her eyes, and put her other hand into the gel. Slowly at first, then more rapidly, the vat turned red.

“That plasma can be transferred from object to object.”

As the clip replayed, Tyr reached out and touched the screen.

“Only they’re not using blood,” she added needlessly.

His face paled as he blinked rapidly.

Sal gulped. “Am I right to assume that the limiting factor of your Praxis is the amount of blood you have with a specific emotion?” Tyr didn’t speak, but she had her answer. “What if the beast could use this gel rather than blood?”

“He could focus enough intent…” His eyes raised from the screen and found hers. “Generate enough force… to shatter the world.”

CHAPTER 68

With a knot in her stomach, Sal crept with Tyr down the hallway of the Atkins-Levine Wing. Suddenly, Tyr pulled out his knife. But why? Sunset was still a good hour away. The beast couldn’t be near. Could he? Then she heard it. Laughter.

By its bawdy nature, grad students’ laughter.

She forced Tyr’s knife back into its sheath. They weren’t going to need the weapon. They just needed to hide. Sal looked down the long, doorless hallway that seemed to stretch on for eternity. There was no way that they could make it into the lab before they were spotted.

Wait, hadn’t they passed a closet a few feet back? She tugged Tyr in the direction of the voices.

“What lunacy is this?”

She ignored Tyr and found what she was looking for. A small vented door. A maintenance closet. They slunk in just before the students passed by. Luckily, they were too busy arguing the merits of Captain Kirk over Picard to notice her and Tyr’s narrow escape.

Sal clutched her laptop to her chest as they squeezed into the tiny, cramped space. Tyr’s shoulder was shoved against her chin, and their legs were entangled with a mop and a DustBuster.

Once the footsteps faded, Tyr hissed, “Hiding does nothing to destroy the blasphemy.”

“No, but we’ve got to get a plan together.”

Tyr put his hand on the knob. “Whatever the number, they cannot stand against me.”

“That’s not the point,” Sal hissed and jerked his hand off the metal.

On the remainder of the walk, Tyr had been unwilling to listen to reason. His sole purpose was to find and decimate Lionel’s research project. Since they needed to come to the lab anyway, Sal hadn’t objected to the mad rush, but now? Now that he was ready to burst in there, blade bared, she had to talk him down.

“They’re innocent. They have no idea what they’re meddling with.”

“Enough!”

Sal barely realized he’d issued an edict as she blocked his advance.

His hand found her neck. “Do not think to thwart me in this.”

Tyr’s chest heaved up and down, barely containing his urgency, yet his touch on her neck wasn’t coarse or painful. It was just there, a physical connection between them.

She found his eyes in the dim light. “You came to me because you didn’t know my world. I’m telling you, this isn’t the way.” Sal paused long enough for the words to sink in. “Now, will you listen?”

Eyes flickering over her features, Tyr took a small step backward, allowing his hand to fall from her neck. While Sal was relieved that he had paused, she missed his touch.

Gathering herself, Sal said, “I want to eliminate this threat as much as you do, but there’s a lot to consider.”

“Explain.”

“I need time to learn if that’s Hing’s only source of gel in there. I also need to find out where he keeps all his backup data.” As Tyr shifted impatiently, Sal locked his gaze. “It won’t do any good to destroy this lab, when the beast could just find everything he wants across campus.”

“Then I am to stand by and whittle a carving?”

“No,” she said firmly as she nudged him deeper into the closet. “You’re going to figure out how to trap the beast.”

CHAPTER 69

Sal’s fingers flew across her keyboard, feeling a high akin to a caffeine buzz. She and her laptop had nearly merged into one consciousness. What she thought, he did. She wanted access to restricted interdepartmental budget files. Her laptop brought them up before she could even finish typing.

Tyr knelt beside her, an assortment of vials at his feet as he concocted a holding serum. Since this was the only hallway that led to the underground laboratory, the beast would have to pass directly by them. They needed to use the close quarters to their advantage.

Despite the thrill of discovery, Sal grew frustrated. It turned out that Lionel’s gel was created out of a variety of very commonplace compounds. While the exact formulation was apparently kept only in his head, the ingredients could be purchased at any chemical supply house.

“Destroying the lab won’t help. The gel looks pretty easy to make.”

Tyr just grunted as he swirled a vial, tilting it to check the contents.

Sal glanced down at her watch. Quarter to seven. Shouldn’t the professor be here by now?

“The passage is no more than two arms’ width?” Tyr asked.

“No.”

“Then we are prepared,” Tyr said as he corked the vial.

Sal stretched out a cramp in her leg. “So I guess we just have to wait.”

Tyr also flexed his legs before he sat upon the ground next to her.

While she tried to concentrate on her laptop to track down that elusive gel formula, Sal couldn’t help but notice his arm rub up against her shoulder as he breathed. She also couldn’t ignore how her pulse raced each time it happened, hoping that he might lift that arm just a few inches and drape it over her.

It was one thing to type when he was busy working on the blood, but now with him sitting so still beside her, she felt their cramped quarters.

Their proximity. Their bond.

She had to think of something else. And fast.

“So does dead blood run along familial lines?”

Tyr’s head snapped toward her. A deep frown etched into his brow. In her attempt to make random conversation, she’d struck a raw nerve.

“I’m sorry. I just was trying to understand the dynamic between live blood and—”

“A dead blood’s birth is rare and bodes only an omen to the family who sires it. Thereafter their line is terminated.”

Sal squirmed. In her attempt to defuse the tension between them, she’d only increased it. “I don’t understand.”

He faced forward, speaking to the cramped closet rather than to her.

“Once a dead blood is thrown, their lineage is aborted. Husband cannot lie with wife. Uncles may no longer lie with aunts. Any living relative to the tainted line thereafter bears no heirs.”

Tyr talked as if he discussed horse breeding, not a civilized society, a society that clearly needed dead bloods. So far, Sal had discerned that the dead blood functioned as at least the police, the border guard, and the healers.

“Why are they so afraid of you?”

“There is no fear, only tolerance. We are dead blood.”

She refused to accept that. “You say that, but if their hatred was so great, why keep any dead bloods alive? If you are so beneath live bloods, why don’t they just exterminate your kind?”

Tyr’s face clouded over. Even in profile she could tell his jaw had clamped down and his shoulders were drawn up in anger. “You know not of what you speak.”

“Really?” Sal queried. “Because by my take, even though you don’t understand what a threat you are to them, they sure as hell understand your power. The very people that disdain you have taken advantage of you.”

While he struggled to find the words to retort, Sal took her thoughts several steps further. Tyr’s society needed dead bloods. Without them, who would fight the beasts? Equally important, though, they needed the Praxis wielders under their control. How better to do that than through shame? Act as if a dead blood’s very birth were a sin, when in truth Sal guessed the higher muckety-mucks were relieved that one was born to serve their needs.

“I bet that dead bloods aren’t allowed to marry, either.”

Fury shook his frame. “Enough!”

CHAPTER 70

There was enough force behind the word that it would have been an edict if Tyr’s voice hadn’t cracked. Sal had gotten so caught up in her quest to reveal his society’s flaws that she’d forgotten he was a part of that society.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

He held up a trembling hand to stop her apology. Despite the desire to explain herself further, Sal sealed her lips.

The dark, cramped closet seemed all the smaller. Their strained silence filled the space, making it nearly claustrophobic. She risked a glance over to Tyr. His hand had fallen, but the stubble along his jawline still bristled. Sal almost wished she didn’t have this new appreciation for essence and intent.

She almost wished she didn’t understand that a part of Tyr’s pained plasma was very literally being carried over by electrons and depositing his ache in her heart.

Sal wanted to respect his desire to not talk about something so grievously hurtful. But she couldn’t just sit there without offering her support. Tentatively, Sal reached a hand out and placed it upon his.

Tyr flinched, and she nearly retracted her gesture, when his fingers entwined with hers, his grip a welcomed vise. They sat there in the dark for several heartbeats, allowing his essence of pain to be soothed by her intent of healing.

Finally, he took a shuddering breath. Hanging his head, Tyr licked his lips before starting. “Dead bloods must keep constant vigil, lest they taint a live blood with their Praxis, blade, or… seed.”

Nodding, Sal explained, “In my world, many clergy, priests, monks, and nuns take a vow of chastity. A vow of abstinence.”

Tyr snorted. “It is no vow, it is the law.”

No kidding, Sal thought but didn’t voice. A society so afraid of such a powerful element in their midst would take the most logical step to keep them from multiplying their numbers. However, she could sense that Tyr’s anger rose from a much more personal issue than population control.

When the silence lengthened, Sal prompted, “You broke this law?”

She could feel the shame in his grip. His fingers dug into her palm, flexing and unflexing, seemingly without his notice. He didn’t seem eager to reveal his failing, yet the real struggle felt like he desperately did want to tell her.

“My beard hadn’t grown more than a dander when Dyn and I were arrived at a large duchy. The patriarch had succumbed to a fever, and despite a parade of witches and their brews, he’d fallen into a stupor. Dyn was known across the land for his ability to coax health from the gravely ill, so we were summoned.”

Sal doubted very much that the story had anything to do with Tyr’s thane or the duke, so she squeezed his hand, urging him to continue.

He sighed. “When Dyn not only brought her grandfather back to speech but daily watched his infirmities fade, Lainli became fascinated with all manner of Praxis.”

And Tyr, Sal suspected. She could only imagine a young Tyr. What had his features looked like before they were hardened by his years of servitude? By the slight glint in his eyes, she could guess a little of Lainli as well.

“Was she pretty?”

“It was widely rumored the youngest prince had sought an audience, but found himself rebuffed at the duchy’s gates.” A smile flickered across his lips. “She sought the Path, rare for her age, rejecting all suitors.”

“Until you?”

Tyr’s grin turned downward. “Lainli had no worldly interest in one such as me. She wished only to blend her knowledge of the witch’s weir with the potency of Praxis.”

“So she began her descent?”

“No!” he answered forcefully, then lowered his voice. “With the blood of a beast we’d slain still beneath my fingernails, I was resolute against offering her any of the secrets of Praxis. I taught her only minor root potions and bloodless distillations.”

“But?”

“Given the taboo of our discourses, they were held in secrecy during the late hours after the servants had sought their beds.”

No matter their high and noble purpose, Sal knew once you put two teenagers together unsupervised, late at night, the hormones would do the rest of the damage. Tyr didn’t have to explain what happened on one of those long, dark, intimate nights.

“Were you caught?”

“If only we had been, perhaps Lainli would still be alive.”

CHAPTER 71

Sal’s brow knotted. “She died after you…?”

“No, no,” Tyr corrected. “We indulged our lesser instincts only once and swore to keep our studies to the library and in the presence of my thane.”

“Okay.” She waited, but he didn’t elaborate. “Then I don’t understand. How did she die?”

Tyr struggled to speak, but ended up gulping instead. These events had clearly occurred over a decade ago, yet his pain felt fresh and sharp. Would this be how Sal thought of Maria later? Would this ache ever subside? If Tyr’s wrestling to even talk about his loss was any indication, it appeared not.

“Once the duke was well on his way to walking without a cane, we were due to leave, when Lainli’s belly betrayed our…”

For several seconds, Sal didn’t understand to what he eluded, then blurted out, “She was pregnant.”

The words sounded like a horrible accusation in this cramped, chlorine-bleached closet. If sex with a dead blood was considered a sin, what would an illegitimate child be thought of as? Sal didn’t want to utter the next words. “What happened?”

“The lady-in-waiting who noticed her lack of menses was put to death, and despite Dyn’s—”

“Wait. Wait. Wait.” Sal still hadn’t processed the horror of the first passage. “They killed the maid?”

“Of course.” Tyr’s eyebrows quizzed her as to why she doubted him.

Still revolted, Sal clarified. “They killed her because she mentioned Lainli’s period was off?”

“If word spread of not only our union, but the child within her…” Tyr’s throat constricted, and he couldn’t continue.

“Your child within her,” she added gently, as tears misted over his normally glacial eyes. Sal could only imagine what it felt like to have one’s baby be considered an abomination. It was one thing to find yourself born to discrimination, but quite another to have your offspring despised before it was even born.

He paused until his throat loosened. “Dyn begged that if the procedure must be done, to allow him to perform it, but—”

“Procedure?” While Tyr didn’t answer her, Sal suddenly realized what he meant. “They forced her to have an abortion?”

It sounded as though bile burned the back of his throat as he finished. “The old witch they brought from the far, far south was nearly blind, and when she tried to… The cries that came from that room… Lainli’s screams… Dyn overcame the guard and broke in, but… his effort was in vain. They banished us from their lands even before the funeral.”

Sal pulled his hand to her, holding it tight, trying to give him some sense of her sorrow for him and for Lainli. Tears at the edge of his lids, Tyr turned to her.

“Salista, can you not see? You thought me damned at birth, but my ruination came from my own hand.”

“Tyr. You were just—”

Outside the door, a nasal voice asked, “Is somebody in there?”

Tyr was on his feet, blade drawn, before she could answer.

CHAPTER 72

Sal jumped to her feet, reacting on instinct. Her heart and mind were still consumed by Tyr’s pain. With luck, her action knocked a mop across Tyr’s path. For that fleeting instant, he was blocked in. She used it to her fullest advantage.

Opening the door, Sal exaggerated stumbling out into the hall, making certain to awkwardly, but quickly, close the door behind her. “God, this is so embarrassing.”

Before her stood a tall, mop-headed student. Even though his stern face looked like someone had elected him hall monitor, the guy’s eyes wandered up and down her form, checking her out. After the fierce, pure intimacy she experienced with Tyr, this grad student’s sophomoric interest repulsed her.

Which didn’t mean she wasn’t above using it to her advantage.

“I was looking for Dr. Hing’s laboratory.”

Sarcastically, the kid pointed down the hall to the sign that announced in large yellow letters—”Dr. Hing’s Clinical Experimental Laboratory,” but Sal squinted. “Sorry, forgot my glasses, but hey, maybe you could help me.”

The student puffed up at her interest. Sal had spent enough time at this school and gotten into enough trouble with the administration to talk her way out of just about anything. So she began babbling on about her dissertation and asshole advisor that wouldn’t put her doctoral thesis through to the committee, for the only reason that her work was way over his head.

The mop of tight curls bobbed up and down in sympathy. The kid’s Browncoats Forever T-shirt and innocent face felt almost surreal, given the fact that Tyr’s knife was within inches of his heart. She didn’t need to be in the same room as the hunter to know that his patience had reached its limit.

“So I got pointed in the direction of Dr. Hing to help flesh out my ‘directed’ intercellular healing model.”

The kid looked a little surprised. “So you really are looking for Lionel?”

“Yeah. Tonight’s his office hours, aren’t they?”

“Oh, I thought you were trying to crash our ‘while the cat’s away the mice will play’ shindig.”

“Come again?”

The student shrugged. “Hing’s at the hoity-toity party over at Alcatraz, so we thought if the lab was empty, why not get our groove on?”

Now all those jubilant students passing by made sense. She had just assumed that Lionel was a really inspiring teacher. Now it turned out he was just a really endangered teacher.

Sal turned on her heel, rapidly heading toward the exit, and then realized she’d just left the kid standing there. “I’ll come back next week.”

“Sure you don’t want to tag along?”

“Thanks, but I’ve really got to get working.”

Without a look back, Sal practically ran from the laboratory complex.

She should have realized where Lionel was headed tonight. An event that she herself had been asked to attend. The damned fund-raiser. They’d lost hours of valuable tracking time waiting at the lab.

Damn it, how had the beast gotten one step ahead of them again? Then she remembered poor Mika. Hing’s assistant must have known his plans for the night. The beast had pulled that essential fact from the grad student.

Once onto the campus proper, Sal broke out into a run, angling south. 19th Street, to the north, was closer, but had far less taxi traffic. They couldn’t depend on the buses this time.

She looked at her watch. The boats were loading with hopeful department heads and wealthy patrons at Fisherman’s Wharf right now. It was only a fifteen-minute ferry ride over to Alcatraz. Even with the mini-tour of the bay included in each year’s festivities, everyone would be disembarking within the hour.

Sal doubted if Lionel had much time beyond that.

Luckily, her route was exclusively downhill, and she made it to Lake Mead Boulevard in record time. It was still early enough in the evening that taxis were trolling for college students heading over to the Market district to hit the DNA Lounge or some other hipster club.

Flagging a taxi down took less time than catching her breath. She wasn’t surprised when a hand reached out and opened the cab’s door for her.

Tyr.

They exchanged grim looks as they loaded themselves and the laptop into the cab.

“Fisherman’s Wharf,” she said, pulling a bill out of her wallet. “And there’s a hundred in it for you if you get us there before eight.”

CHAPTER 73

After being slammed forward as the cabbie squealed to a stop at the corner of Taylor and the Embarcadero, Sal pulled out the money. Granted, the ride had been mildly nauseating. It involved driving in bus-only lanes, plus going the wrong way up a one-way street, but he had delivered them at the Wharf with five minutes to spare.

Tyr was already out of the taxi when she handed over two twenties to cover the fare, and then the hundred to cover the expediency. On second thought, Sal gave the guy another twenty.

Just as she had hoped, a lone boat waited at the dock, held back for those urbanites who wished to be fashionably late and miss the bay tour. The ferry looked ready to launch. Grabbing Tyr’s hand, she ran toward the gangplank.

They were about to make it onto the boat when an usher stepped in front of her. “I’m sorry madam, but this is a private event.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m Dr. Calon, representing San Francisco General Hospital.”

The man looked at her jeans and sweaty T-shirt. “Not in those clothes, you’re not.” He then looked at Tyr’s wide shoulders, broad belt, and tight leather pants. “Now him… He can do anything he wants.”

“Down, boy,” Sal warned the salivating usher. “I’m sure you’ve got extra costumes for latecomers.”

Looking disappointed, the man waved them aboard. “Down on the lower deck, you’ll find what’s left of the selection. But I’ve got to warn you that in your size…” He emphasized “size” as long as he could, then continued, “There’s just a scullery maid, a strangely Marilyn Monroe inspired number, and something that would have horrified Liberace.”

“Fine,” Sal said as they made their way up the plank. What did it matter? She wasn’t here for a fashion show. She just needed to blend in.

But as they boarded the boat, the quality of the costumes surprised her. Clearly, the theme of this year’s gala was a medieval masquerade. There were knights, maidens, jesters, and even a king, on deck. She forgot how full-out everyone went for this benefit. Socialites jostled for position in front of the photographers.

Eschewing the press, Sal guided them through the costumed throng.

Finally, they were nearly to the stairs that led to the lower deck when the “king” passed by with his golden crown.

Tyr dropped to one knee, bending his head in supplication. “Sire.”

The elderly gentleman chuckled, thinking Tyr a really enthusiastic partygoer. “Now that’s what I call getting into character.”

Even though Sal tried to tug him to his feet, Tyr would not rise until the man was out of sight.

“He’s not a real king,” she hissed. “He’s in costume.”

Tyr’s brows knitted together. “He wears the crown of coronation.”

Sal didn’t have time to explain the intricacies of a masquerade. They needed to get below deck, find an adequate costume for her, then get Lionel the hell off the island before the beast consumed the physicist’s knowledge.

“What is this costume?”

Trotting down the stairs, she answered, “It’s something you wear at a party to look different than you normally do.”

“Explain party.”

Clearly, he had never been to grad school. Sal opened her mouth to explain, then shut it again as she found the rack of costumes. Tyr would just have to figure it out later. The guide hadn’t been exaggerating. There wasn’t a great selection left overall, but in a size eight? An ugly, green shift hung beside a very non-medieval red satin cocktail dress, right next to possibly the most hideous purple and blue gown. The thing was lined with sequins and feathers.

If only she could fit into a size four. There was a noblewoman’s velvet dress. And a size two? The most gorgeous fairy-like gossamer gown she’d ever seen hung at the end of the rack.

Sal shook her head. Heaven forbid that a woman actually had hips.

Snatching the rough-spun shift off the rack, Sal went behind the dressing screen and changed as the boat’s horn announced their departure. The coarse wool scratched at her skin. However, comfort wasn’t highest on her priority list.

Smoothing the ugly cloth, she stepped out from the screen. Tyr’s eyes were impossible to read. Barefoot, Sal trudged over to the mirror. She hadn’t been expecting Chanel, but dear God, she looked frumpy. There was absolutely nothing attractive about her, or the dress. Her looks really shouldn’t have mattered, but somehow they did. After all, they were hunting the beast—and saving a professor’s life,.

But there was no getting around the mousy green shift. Sal went to head back upstairs, when Tyr stepped in front of her.

“This costume is essential for us to move freely amongst the nobles?”

“No. Yes… Well, kind of.” Sal really didn’t want to discuss it.

He closed the distance between them. “Then this will not do.”

“You know that you’re not exactly in silk and lace yourself.”

“I am dead blood,” he said, and, for the first time, used the term with a sense of pride rather than shame. “Lowly servants and mighty kings alike invite me to their hearths. I stride fiercely where others fear to tread.”

So enamored by his tone was she that Sal didn’t react in time when he grabbed her right shoulder seam and tore the sleeve off.

Sal gasped. For one thing, a fantasy brewing in your subconscious coming to life was startling. And for the other, well, she wasn’t sure what the other was. “What do you think you are—”

Before she could argue, Tyr tore the other sleeve off. The shift was still salvageable, though. Then he ripped a strip out from the skirt. The dress was officially ruined.

“It suited you not.”

Sal felt on the verge of tears. “Then what would? A witch’s robe?”

Tyr gave her his by-now-patented sideways glare.

Anxiously, she looked over to the nearly bare rack. The only other options were the slinky cocktail dress or the gaudy Vegas number.

“What am I going to do?”

Tyr’s jaw clenched. “Hold.”

CHAPTER 74

Sal tried to look down at the piecemeal dress that Tyr was putting together out of bits and pieces of all the other costumes, but he put a finger under her chin and lifted it back up.

Frustrated, she growled, “The boat’s going to dock any second.”

“Is patience not a virtue taught at your elders’ feet?”

“Oh, do not get me started.”

But a grin played at the edge of his lips. For all his stoicism, Tyr seemed to be enjoying having her under his tutelage way too much.

“Put these on,” he said as he handed her a pair of vinyl boots. When last she had seen them, they were Madonna-gaudy. Stripper quality, but somehow Tyr had weathered them in such a way they were not only aged, but tasteful as well.

He wouldn’t allow her to kneel, so his strong hands pulled the zipper up her calf. It was a good thing that the usher hadn’t come with them.

She really couldn’t have kept a straight face.

“It is done,” he stated.

Sal rushed to the mirror and stumbled to a stop, shocked at what she found in the reflection.

Somehow, some way, Tyr had transformed the drabbest of dresses into the most exotic of gowns. Using the shift as scaffolding, he used the silk from the Monroe dress for the sleeves. The beading from the Liberace number crisscrossing her midsection not only glammed it up, but beautifully defined her waist. And the skirt? He’d taken the gossamer blues and greens and made a scarf skirt of unparalleled beauty.

Sal couldn’t help but turn to and fro. The delicate material spread outward like a blossoming flower. Grateful to the point of tears, she looked at Tyr.

“My thane arose from a people who called no land home.”

She didn’t know what to say or how to say it.

Tenderly, he pulled her hair up off her neck. “They called themselves the Romani.” Tyr used a set of beads that matched her midriff to tame her long, dark locks. “Like a dead blood, they travel the world without apology.”

The finishing touch came in the form of a single strand of silver with a pearl-drop pendant. After clasping the lock, he stood back, appreciating her in the mirror. She felt her cheeks burn under his scrutiny.

After what seemed like a century, he broke his stare.

Tyr offered his arm. “If it pleases the lady.”

Sal wrapped her arm through his.

It pleased the lady very much.

CHAPTER 75

Sal hesitated at the top of the plank. They were the last to disembark, but still, she hesitated. She wasn’t ready for the pageantry onshore. This year, the planning committee had pulled out all the stops. The steep path up the hillside to the prison was not only lined by torches, but trumpeters as well. Tyr urged her forward. “The beast awaits no one.”

He was right. They made their way off the boat and passed under the torch lit path, trumpets announcing their arrival. The switchback trail up “the Rock” was nearly as steep as the university campus. In heels this time.

Her annoyance was quickly dispelled as they crested the ridge to look down upon the gala. Tents upon gaily colored tents dotted the otherwise rocky hillside. The bright colors stretched as far as the eye could see, while the normally austere, hulking, three-story prison had been transformed into a medieval castle. Torches lined the “ramparts,” and banners fluttered along the edge of the roof. Quite a difference from the usual tour. Even the old lighthouse on the far side of the island glistened like a silver spire.

Roaming performers entertained the revelers. In the distance a “fire-eater” spewed flames high into the sky. Closer, two warriors clashed in simulated battle. And attendance? There must have been over a thousand people scattered over the island. It was all too much.

A cluster of partygoers had formed at the entrance, clapping as new guests entered the grounds. When it was finally their turn to enter, the applause died off. Suddenly self-conscious, Sal felt herself pull inward, away from the embarrassment that she had dared to think that she was something she could never be, if for even a night.

But then a collective exclamation burst from the crowd, and everyone gathered around the pair.

“Where did you get that dress?” “Is it a designer gown?” “Were the boots from Bloomingdale’s?”

The questions were too many, and came too quickly, for her to answer a single one. Women, and a few men, looked jealous of her, or at least of the man at her side. Sal was so unused to such attention that she wasn’t sure if she liked it.

Just as she was starting to feel overwhelmed, Tyr gently backed the crowd away. “My lady has pressing duties. If you might excuse her?”

That laughter again, as they assumed that Tyr was just that good an actor.

Once past the press at the entrance, the gala spread out into the night. A light breeze kicked up the fire pits and fluttered the edges of the tents. It would have been perfect, if they didn’t have to find one scientist out of a veritable sea of revelers and then save him from a deadly beast.

CHAPTER 76

Sal stopped the first jester she saw. “Do you know where the San Francisco State contingency is hanging out?”

The guy’s Bronx accent sounded weird coming out from under his belled cap. “Athletics or Academic?”

“Academic.”

As he shrugged, his entire costume tinkled. “Sorry. I just saw the football team on the far side of the prison playing some medieval game where they hit cones with a stick.”

“Shinty,” Tyr stated as he scanned the crowd.

“Yeah, that is what they called it.”

Yep, chalk up another person who was impressed by Tyr.

“Thanks. If you happen to see a short, Asian physicist, could you tell him that we’re looking for him?”

The tinkling shrug again. “Sure.”

“We’re—”

“The hot gypsy couple. I’ve got it dialed in.”

They suffered through a few similar interactions without getting any useful information. The more they mingled, the more impossible their task appeared. Every college or university within a fifty-mile radius was in attendance. They were trying to find a professor in a haystack full of academia.

Yet the average partygoer didn’t seem to know the difference between the scientific disciplines. For example, she knew a group of historians were inside the prison critiquing the medieval torture chambers that had been set up by the wax museum. Some chemists were poking around the other side of the island at the fireworks setup trying to figure out the payload of the explosives used to launch the displays.

All very interesting, but none of it bringing them closer to Lionel.

Searching the crowd, Sal spotted two men dressed as knights, hacking their way through feigned combat. A grin formed at their folly. She’d seen enough real fighting to know that if the taller warrior left his side open like that in battle, the beast would have opened his abdomen with a single swipe across the midsection.

The man glanced her way. He must have misinterpreted her smile, because he started really hamming it up, drawing their fake clash toward her.

“Forsake your cause!” he yelled. “Or I shall take this damsel hostage.”

Sal watched in horror as the knight aimed toward her. She wanted to slow time and shout for him to stop, but it all happened too quickly.

The second that his sword became even a fake threat, Tyr grabbed the man by his hair, yanked his head back and exposed his neck. Holding his very sharp knife to the knight’s pulsing jugular, Tyr’s bicep flexed.

Finally, she found her voice.

“Don’t!” she screamed, clutching his arm and trying to pull the blade away. “He didn’t mean it. He was just acting.” Tyr glared at her, but she nodded vigorously. “He meant no harm.”

Sal could tell that Tyr believed her, yet he didn’t release the man.

Instead, he leaned over and hissed into his ear, “Upon threat of death, aim no blade at a lady. Unless you wish to enjoy a slow, painful letting of your blood ‘til the last, never bear one at her. Are my words stark enough?”

The man nodded, careful to avoid cutting his own neck against the knife. Tyr didn’t really release him as much as shove him to his knees. The man choked and sputtered.

“Sorry, man. My bad. I didn’t see the rock on her finger.”

They both looked at Richard’s engagement ring.

Tyr’s face clouded over, and he turned on his heel, plowing into the crowd, scattering revelers in his path.

“I’m so sorry,” Sal muttered to the performer.

“No problem. Matter of fact,” the man yelled as she followed Tyr, “do you think he’d be interested in working our next gig?”

CHAPTER 77

Picking up her skirt, Sal broke into a trot as she caught up with the long-strided Tyr. He could put on some distance if he wanted to. Finally, a gaggle of belly dancers blocked his path.

She touched his arm, but Tyr growled, “Do not.”

Her hand fell away as the diamond of another man’s engagement ring glittered in the torchlight. “Tyr…”

His jaw muscles worked overtime. Were they really going to have this conversation? Here? Now?

“I must get away from…” He shook his head. “From this gaiety. Cast a sooth. Find the beast. Face him as a man, not as a lady’s consort.”

“Tyr,” she sighed. How could so much unspoken fill the air with such noise? Sal opened her mouth to elaborate when a cluster of young men captured her attention.

They looked like characters straight out of The Lord of the Rings. Well, if anyone from Middle Earth had ever been a geek. Groping behind her, she grabbed Tyr’s hand as she headed toward the LOTR-fest.

“Did I not—?”

Sal ignored his protest as she made a beeline for the Elvish group. “Are you guys physicists?”

They were all clearly startled that a female of any sort was talking to them, let alone one of childbearing age.

“Um, some of us, yeah,” the one with the blond Legolas wig stammered.

“Advanced mathematical theory, specializing in discrete mathematical modeling,” the Gimli lookalike added.

The one that was supposed to be Aragorn couldn’t even find his voice.

“SFSU?”

The elf looked defeated. “Naw, Stanford.”

Gimli must have seen the disappointment on her face. “But hey, if you want some question about the origin of the universe answered, we’re your guys.”

“Sorry, but I kind of had my heart set on Lionel.”

“Hing?” Aragorn finally figured out how to speak.

Sal focused on him. “Yes.”

Not to be outdone, Legolas thumbed at the towering prison. “He and some guy from UC Berkeley got into an argument about a sliding door that an inmate supposedly opened with his mind. But the Oski said the prisoner must have used some low volatile liquid that he made out of soap to pop the lock.”

That sounded like something right up Lionel’s alley.

“So Hing’s inside?”

Gimli nudged the elf out of the way. “I can show you.”

She gave the best kind, but dismissive, smile that she could. “No, thanks.”

Sal swung around to find Tyr already heading toward the prison’s entrance. Damn it, she was going to have to run after him again. Then Tyr paused. His tall frame turned back, waiting.

Waiting for her.

CHAPTER 78

Sal had toured Alcatraz more times than she cared to count. You couldn’t avoid it if you lived in the City. It wasn’t like she wanted to make the trip across the bay that often, but anytime a friend came in from out of town, it was the first place that he or she wanted to visit.

As her heels clicked against the cement floor, Sal could see why. The federal prison could both repulse and compel. Who didn’t want to see Al Capone’s bunk? Or tour the cell that inspired the film Escape from Alcatraz?

There weren’t many places left where people could literally walk through history. Have it above, on each side, and beneath one’s feet.

Even under daylight conditions, the prison gave off a creepy energy. To think of the brutality suffered within these walls! But tonight? Tonight, the walls oozed with downright malice.

Sure, she’d been here on sunny days, foggy days, and during a rainstorm, but never under torchlight. The dull, barren prison environment had been transformed into a medieval dungeon. The torch’s flickering reds and oranges cast shadows down the long central passageway. Looking up, Sal glanced at the two stories looming above them. The multitude of cells pressed down upon her. She imagined being a guard walking the main hall, having every prisoner in the place able to glare down at her. It sent gooseflesh up her arms.

But now? With the torchlight and the third floor mired in shadows?

What had once been a sterile passage had become a foreboding gauntlet.

For on each side, the ground-floor cells had been converted into hideous torture chambers. Wax figures on loan from Ripley’s Believe it or Not! Museum played the victim to every type of agony known to man. Some were hung upside down, others had the screws put to them, and the rack… Sal couldn’t even look in that cell.

She wasn’t naïve about suffering. She’d grown up in the Mission District and worked at an inner-city ER. Tonight, it felt different. With the beast on the prowl, these cells weren’t just a historical account of torture, but a prediction of the night’s pain and anguish.

No matter her misgivings, everyone else seemed to be enjoying the show. Bejeweled duchesses and armored dukes toured the horrors. As she and Tyr passed by the cluster of historians arguing over the veracity of the displays, one of them flagged him down.

“You there. You look…” the woman said offhandedly, then surveyed Tyr’s bulging biceps, suddenly becoming self-conscious. “Look… um, surprisingly era-appropriate.”

Tyr appeared to be extremely used to women getting tongue-tied around him, because he just shrugged off her compliment.

A very nerdy serf pushed his glasses up. “We’re arguing over the name of this item.”

The serf pointed to a wax figure whose hands were bound to a chair with a metal device that acted like a wicked neck brace. The tips that held up the chin and pushed against the breastbone were spiked. Fake blood dribbled down from the points of contact.

“ ‘Tis a poorly constructed heretic’s fork.”

“Duh!” the serf exclaimed as he hit his forehead.

Tyr reached out, tested the metal against his thumb, and nicked the flesh.

Although the historians gasped, he casually rubbed the blood between his fingers. “And not a very sharp one at that.”

Sal turned to leave, but something caught Tyr’s eye. He reached out and took a bullwhip down from the wall. With expert skill, he lashed the whip out, then snapped the leather tip.

Crack!

The sound reverberated off the high ceiling. As everyone else jumped back, Sal watched as that secret smile only she noticed tugged at Tyr’s lips. Satisfied, he coiled the whip, and strode away.

“Um,” the serf mumbled, “I don’t think you’re supposed to take the props.”

“You wanna try to stop him?”

Let them debate that, Sal thought as she trotted to catch up.

CHAPTER 79

Tyr slowed as they mounted the stairs to the second floor of the prison. She didn’t bother to ask why their pace had waned. From his clamped jaw and worried eyes, Sal knew he sensed something. The threat didn’t seem to be the beast, or his knife would be drawn. Still, his tense posture set her on edge.

The deeper into the prison they had delved, the more the crowd had thinned. Even the macabre wax figures had diminished, until there were only empty cells lining the hall around them.

Their isolation gave Sal no comfort, though. She knew having people around didn’t make them any safer; if anything it just put more lives in danger, but their lone footsteps echoing off the cement walls weren’t helping her nerves.

Above them rose another story of cells, shrouded in darkness. Just as the crowds had thinned, so had the torchlight. The third floor was nothing more than a vague outline. The beast could be crouched right above them, and they would never know it.

Tyr frowned. “There is discord ahead.”

Sal’s stomach lurched. Not just metaphysically, but literally. Her hand found her midriff. Even that soft a touch hurt her knotted intestines. She just wasn’t cut out for battling the supernatural.

As they crept down the long line of locked cells, Tyr’s knife in one hand and the whip in the other, an explosion sounded from outside. They both swung around.

Outside the cell windows, fireworks bloomed to life. Blues, greens, and brilliant whites shone momentarily, and then faded to a wisp of smoke. While Sal felt relieved, Tyr’s knuckles had blanched around his hilt.

“It’s just fireworks,” she said, but he didn’t seem soothed. “They are displays of light for entertainment. There’s nothing magical about it.”

As another cluster of explosions lit the sky a deep red, Tyr didn’t seem convinced.

“The display signals the crowd that the main event will start shortly. Then, when the party is all over, there will be a grand finale to alert everyone that the festivities are over and to head to the dock.” Sal lowered her tone. “I swear. I’ve seen it before. It’s no threat.”

When his lips didn’t lift from their frown, Sal figured that she hadn’t convinced him that the fireworks weren’t dangerous. But then, she noticed that his head was tilted to one side, listening for something. Sal stopped and listened intently between the boom of the fireworks.

Were there groans? As Tyr inched them forward, Sal began to suspect they didn’t arise from suffering.

“Tyr,” she said as she tried to slow him down.

A huge explosion of oranges and greens filled the sky. Sal suspected that those weren’t the only fireworks going on right now.

A gasp.

No restraint could keep Tyr from bolting forward.

“No!” Sal exclaimed. “I think they’re just—”

She ran into Tyr’s back as he pulled to a halt at the cell’s threshold. On the thin cot bolted to the wall, it looked like someone was trying to re-create a scene from the movie Excalibur. The big, burly guy on top played Uther Pendragon, and this being San Francisco, the Duchess Igrayne had a mustache.

“I’m so sorry,” Sal said as she urged Tyr away from the illicit scene.

Was it surprising that a couple had used the prison as a sexual rendezvous? No. Was it disturbing? Yes. Tyr started to say something, when a scream echoed off the walls.

That wasn’t sex, or even rough sex. That was pain. Hurt. Injury.

And it had come from above. From that darkened third floor.

Without a word, they both sprinted for the stairs.

CHAPTER 80

Close on Tyr’s heels, Sal charged up the steps. No other cries followed the first, but with the beast, there usually wasn’t time for a second. Far down the corridor, Sal spotted two figures, one huddled over the other.

Tyr must have seen them as well, for he cracked the whip. “Away!”

A young man, dressed as a Crusader, jumped back, seemingly against his will. “I didn’t mean to do it!”

Sal rushed to the downed man.

Straight, black hair. Green tights. A young, Asian Robin Hood.

“Lionel?”

He sat cross-legged on the floor, holding a swollen hand. “Dr. Hing, to you.”

She waved Tyr back. The professor couldn’t be too badly injured if he was joking. “Fine, then. I’m Dr. Calon. Let me take a look at that wrist.”

Lionel extended the arm, but glared at his friend. “That’s what happens when you try to use force rather than persuasion.”

“But it opened, didn’t it?” the young man countered. The Crusader looked as though he wanted to join them, but he dared not cross the invisible line that Tyr had drawn with his whip. “I told him not to put his hand in there. I told him.”

She flexed Lionel’s wrist up and down, palpating the carpal bones. Nothing popped, snapped, or crackled. Nothing broken, then. Just a bad sprain. “You should get an x-ray, but you probably don’t even need a support wrap.”

The young professor looked her up and down before he answered. “I didn’t know the Romani were particularly gifted as healers.”

“You’d be surprised,” she answered as she helped him to his feet. Tyr’s tensed jaw told her that they had wasted too much time already. “Anyway, we should get you to a hospital, and—”

“Hell, no. We still have a bet that—”

Tyr took a forceful step forward. “Enough.”

Lionel looked like he wanted to say something. Actually a lot of things, but the professor could not bring them to his lips. Sal knew how the poor kid felt.

Satisfied the man was under his control, Tyr turned away. “Follow.”

While Hing looked distressed, his Crusader friend was eating it up.

“Hey, are you guys like an S & M act? Are you going to make him watch or something?”

“Leave,” Tyr rumbled. The kid’s face didn’t have time to register the surprise as his feet started moving on their own, running down the hallway.

“Commanding people isn’t the answer,” she argued.

Tyr’s eyebrow shot up as he indicated Lionel, who had fallen into step behind them. “Is it not?”

“Let me rephrase. You shouldn’t.” Sal held his gaze. Tyr looked as though he wanted to issue an edict or two at her, but he ultimately shrugged and waited for her to continue. “Just give me one minute. That’s all I ask.”

“Release,” Tyr grunted toward the young professor.

Sal had heard the term “wig out” before, yet had never seen it actually happen. As soon as Lionel had his free will back he spun around, testing his limbs, jabbering away, even though he didn’t really seem to acknowledge their presence.

She put a hand on his shoulder, but he jerked away. “Don’t touch me. What’s going on? Where did Kurtis go?” Maybe Tyr had the right idea after all. “Why couldn’t I speak? What happened to my feet? How did—”

Sighing, Sal tried to keep the impatience from her tone. “Look, can we skip the whole adolescent freak-out and shift gears right into scientific inquiry?”

He shook his head, but said, “Yes.”

“Tyr can manipulate his electrons to transport plasma that carries his intent to affect your electrons, and ultimately your plasma. Given that the vast bulk of our cellular makeup is plasma, he basically can control you.”

Lionel’s eyes flickered to Tyr, then to Sal, and then back again. “You’ve seen my experiments?”

Tyr snorted his contempt, but she nodded. “Yes. And that is why you are in danger. The bea—,” Sal stopped herself. The professor didn’t seem ready for that info just yet. “Someone really wants your research and is willing to kill for it.”

“What do you mean?”

Sal lightly touched his arm. “I’m sorry, but Mika was murdered last night.”

“No way. She texted me this morning to meet her up here tonight.”

Lionel couldn’t be right. But he pulled his cell phone out and showed her the message with the date and time stamp. Mika’s phone texted Dr. Hing at ten forty-five this morning.

Panic took over. Her heart was no longer pumping blood, it pushed only adrenaline. Sal spun toward Tyr, but his countenance showed only annoyance at their delay. He didn’t understand the implications of Lionel’s words.

How she wished the beast was just an animal. But he wasn’t. He had human intelligence, an intelligence that could learn to manipulate something as modern as a cell phone.

“The beast lured him here,” she finally choked out.

Tyr didn’t question her, he just grabbed Lionel. “We must away.”

“Wait a minute!” The professor screeched. “You can’t just—”

Sal trotted next to them. “Lionel, we’re trying to save your life, so I’d tone down the rhetoric.”

“Are you the cops?” Lionel asked, clearly struggling to come to grips with the last few minutes. “I thought you were a doctor.”

“I am. We’re not law enforcement per se, but we are acting in your best interests.”

The professor ripped his arm out of Tyr’s grip.

“Why should I believe you?” he demanded as a roar echoed through the hallway, rattling the bars as the air turned a sickly red.

“That’s why.”

CHAPTER 81

Lionel didn’t seem to need any more edicts as he ran down the stairs right alongside them. Clearly, the young professor wanted to get as far away from the source of that roar as they did. And the professor hadn’t even seen the fangs yet.

Unscathed, they made it down to the first floor. The rows of torture chambers were deserted. The fireworks had accomplished their task and lured everyone outside for the charity’s main event. Through the brief snatches of window, it looked like a jousting tournament was in the works. Horses reared as the crowd cheered. It felt surreal. So much frivolity out there, and so much terror in here.

Focusing on the hallway, they just kept running. Another hundred feet down the passage, and they’d be out of the prison. Another quarter mile, and they’d be on the docks, free from the beast and his damned crimson glow.

Of course, that was right about the time the beast leapt down from the second floor, landing a yard ahead of them. With a snarl and swish of his tail, the beast blocked their exit with his hulking frame.

“Oh, my—” That’s as far as Lionel got before he fainted.

Sal clutched the unconscious professor to her. She checked his pulse as she slid him down to the floor. He was alive—just out cold.

Cracking his whip, Tyr stepped between the downed professor and the beast. “He will die by my blade before his knowledge falls to you.”

She hoped that Tyr was just bluffing, but knew that he probably wasn’t.

Sal cursed as her pulse boomed in her ears as loudly as the fireworks had. How could she think when her heartbeat consumed her entire world?

If she wanted to save Lionel from not only the beast but Tyr as well, Sal needed to think. Focus. But that was hard in the torchlight. Its soft flickering light was more mesmerizing than clarifying.

Tyr cracked the whip again, but this time the beast didn’t back away. If anything, the sound of the leather snapping the air only antagonized him. He was going to attack. Sal could feel it in her own muscles.

With Tyr’s tiny knife, they couldn’t hope to kill the beast. At least not here, not now. The best they could do would be to drive him back, give themselves some room to maneuver. Without better weapons, though, how could they drive him back? How did you drive a beast away?

Sal was on her feet before she thought her action through. She grabbed the closest torch from the wall sconce. “Tyr!”

The beast must have sniffed out her intent, for just as she launched the torch toward Tyr, so did the beast. Somehow, in the rush, Tyr dropped his whip in favor of the flaming brand, then shoved her to the side. “Move!”

As Sal fell to the hard cement floor, she watched Tyr twist around, trying to propel himself out of the beast’s path. But the beast’s leap was well calculated as he slammed his full weight into Tyr. Entangled, the collision reeled them both into a window.

Whether it was the beast’s intent or luck, the force of their impact shattered the window and knocked the steel bars from their mooring.

In a shower of glass and iron, Tyr and the beast fell from the prison.

CHAPTER 82

Sal rushed to the window, glass crunching under her boots. In a tangle, Tyr and the beast rolled down the hillside toward the party, crashing through a blue tent, finally coming to rest in the middle of the jousting tournament.

Panicked horses flayed, bucking and dumping their riders. The crowd scattered back as Tyr jumped to his feet, driving the beast back with a swipe of his torch. The beast roared his defiance, yet the astonished partygoers formed a tight circle around the battle.

Jesus, they must think this is part of the show.

A few people even clapped. “Run! Get to the boats!”

Instead of heeding her words, they just pointed up at her, laughing, assuming she was the classic damsel in distress.

Turning away from the fight, Sal ran to Lionel’s side. The professor roused, barely, but enough to resist her efforts to get him on his feet. She really didn’t have time for this.

“Rise!”

His body jerking upright against his will brought Lionel to full consciousness. “What’s going on?”

Sal shoved him toward one of the torture chambers. “We’ve got to find Tyr a better weapon.”

Over the crowd’s cheers, she could hear the beast’s growl and Tyr’s cry. His knife was too short. Before Tyr could do any damage, he needed to let the beast get in too close. Close enough that for each wound he inflicted, the beast returned the favor.

She and Lionel rummaged through the torture chambers and their various weapons, but most were as dull as the heretic’s fork. Then she found a pike. Sal tested the edge. It wouldn’t even cut paper, let alone the beast’s thick hide.

Concentrating, she closed her eyes and poured all her desire into the word, “Sharpen.”

A thrill jangled down her spine, the feeling of biting into the forbidden fruit. So she wasn’t surprised when she felt the edge and found it still dull.

That warped excitement meant her edict was working against the object’s intent.

But it made no sense. The weapon was meant to be sharp. Its intent was to be sharp. So why wasn’t it sharpening?

“Yeah, that would have been impressive,” Lionel said, and then shook his head as though he was trying to clear a hangover. “Not that everything else hasn’t been mind-blowing, but getting metal to obey would have been shocking.”

Sal’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Yuri Geller to the contrary, the structural density and strong molecular bonding of metal makes it a poor candidate for telekinesis.”

So that’s why she felt dirty when she failed to open the boathouse metal lock, but easily could open the plastic window latch.

Fascinating as that revelation was, it didn’t help her with the pike. She needed something with enough structural density to hurt the beast, but not so dense that she couldn’t sharpen it.

A loud cheer drew them both to the window. Tyr must have gotten a good parry in, for a thin line of blood dribbled down the beast’s flank. The crowd chanted for Tyr, but Sal knew, without a much more substantial weapon, exactly how badly this battle would end.

She knew, because she’d seen this uneven match play out before. Tyr’s blood seeping into the Park’s ground. The claw marks exposing his flesh.

Sal closed her eyes against the memory.

Ignoring the fear wouldn’t change the course of battle, though. Sal opened her eyes. If the dungeon didn’t have what she needed, she needed to search elsewhere. Sal looked out the window, scanning the partygoers. Someone had to have brought something she could use.

Then she saw it.

Shoving Lionel out of the cell, Sal urged, “Move!”

CHAPTER 83

Jostling through the brightly colored sea of people in costumes, Sal lost sight of the man she needed. She’d only gotten a brief glimpse of him before he melted into the crowd. He had been tall and dressed in a blue wizard’s robe.

Of that she was sure, but anything else was just a blur.

A collective gasp erupted from the spectators. That couldn’t have been good for Tyr.

Sal darted between a hangman and a crowned lady. It looked like the wizard had gotten bored with the show and was heading toward one of the food tents.

“Where are we—” Lionel started to ask, until he was interrupted by a Crusader. One wearing glasses.

“Dude! What is going on? I rabbited, I mean rabbited, out of that prison and almost ran straight into the water!”

Out of the corner of her eye, Sal saw the two professors greet one another, but she was far more worried about where in the hell the wizard had gone. Had he chosen the red or the orange tent?

As she headed toward the red one, Sal had to physically resist turning to watch the battle between the beast and Tyr unfold. Her standing there screaming at the top of her lungs in terror wasn’t going to help. Finding him a weapon would.

Pushing past two jugglers, Sal entered the first tent. The lavishly catered tables held all manner of food, from medieval fare to the best of California cuisine. A platter laden with turkey legs sat next to an arugula salad tossed with baby spinach. Unfortunately, the wizard was nowhere to be found.

Exiting, she nearly ran into Lionel and his friend.

“Exactly what are we doing?” the professor asked.

“Talk to me about bone,” Sal said as she hurried to the next tent.

Lionel seemed confused, but tried to answer. “It’s not nearly as structurally sound as metal, but it’s pretty dense. If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, it won’t work.”

Perhaps, but Sal had more than just science on her side. Entering the dessert tent, she found the wizard standing in line for custard pie.

“Is that real?” she asked, indicating to his walking stick.

He seemed a little put off by her abrupt manner, but he nodded. “Yes, it was my great-great-grandfather’s. It’s fashioned from the tibial bone of an elephant.”

Sal tried to tone down her urgency. “Could I take a look?”

The wizard seemed loath to hand it over, but equally reluctant to seem rude. “I… I guess.”

Without hesitation, she took the thick staff and swung it over her head, smashing it down on the table.

“How dare you!” the man shouted.

The bone dented the table but didn’t break. The wizard tried to pull the staff from her grasp. Sal elbowed him back. Whatever sentimental value the walking stick had, it paled in comparison to Tyr’s need. Their need.

Lionel shoved the wizard out of the way. “Its tensile strength is too great. You just can’t generate the torque.”

Maybe her arms couldn’t, but her intent?

“Break!” she yelled as she slammed the bony shaft down again. In her mind’s eye, Sal imagined exactly the fissure line she wanted. She pictured Tyr’s sword before it had shattered. From that image she defined how long and wide she wanted the bony fragment.

Her arms jolted at the impact. When she opened her eyes, Sal found the staff broken in two pieces. The one in her hand tapered, just like a sword.

Now for the hard part. “Sharpen.”

The bone shaft appeared as ragged as before her command, but when she tested it with her finger, Sal flinched. It was beyond sharp.

She felt a moment of guilt as she turned to find the wizard clutching the other half of the stick, clearly distraught. “How could you?”

As a roar filled with deadly intent echoed, how could she not?

CHAPTER 84

“You never should have been able to pull that off,” Lionel panted as they ran toward the battle.

“Move!” Sal shouted to part the crowd, then answered the professor. “It used to be living.”

“Huh?” the Crusader said. She had nearly forgotten he was still tagging along. “Bone is an organic product,” she explained, nearly tripping over a jester. “During the course of a bone’s life, it is used to being remodeled. Even though the bone seems static, the cells within it are constantly turning over the calcium and making micro-adjustments to the bone’s shape. It’s the only way a bone can heal.”

Lionel nodded vigorously. “You know what? The extent was limited, but we did have some success with glass. My assistant postulated…”

Despite her urgency, Sal couldn’t help but register sympathy for the professor. He was talking about Mika. His dead grad student.

Much less enthusiastically, he explained, “She suggested that maybe glass was easier to manipulate than other substances of the same molecular density because it’s basically just melted sand, which is constantly sliding over itself.” Lionel snapped his fingers. “As a matter of fact, glass made from coral sand was much more malleable. It must have been its organic nature. How could I have not seen that?”

Sal didn’t bother to answer his rhetorical question. She had problems of her own. Like how was she going to get this bony sword into Tyr’s hands?

She couldn’t just chuck it at him, as she had done the torch. The beast had too great an intelligence. Which forced her to be smarter. Smarter than she felt she could ever be.

They halted at the edge of the battleground. Both Tyr and the beast had been bloodied. Tyr more, though. She could see in his stance that he was tired. The crowd waved pennants that had been handed out for the jousting tournament, singing gaily as Tyr fought for his life.

Lionel and the Crusader were jabbering away behind her, also seemingly oblivious to the fact that their fate hung in the balance of this clash. She knew the stakes, and was so close to changing the odds, but couldn’t for the life of her think of how to accomplish her task.

Struggling to concentrate, the men’s scientific wrangling became too much. “Silence,” she hissed.

Both professors stood, dumbfounded, as they could no longer speak.

That was it.

Now she just had to hope she had affected herself in the same way the command had in the Park.

“Tyr,” Sal whispered with no sound. He cocked his head as he fought.

“Pretend to fall to your left. Near the crowd. Once on the ground, reach your hand out.”

She wasn’t sure if Tyr understood, or even heard, as he went at the beast with renewed vigor. Feigning and parrying. Using the torch to drive his enemy back. Finally, the beast had enough and leapt at Tyr.

The crowd gasped as Tyr stumbled, falling toward them. He kept the torch high to keep the beast from leaping upon his downed form. Then as he fell, he stretched out his hand.

Into his waiting palm, Sal laid the smooth bone handle. His fingers tightened around the weapon, then for the briefest instant his eyes found hers. Thanks, appreciation, and something more played across his features. Then that smile crept along his lips.

The beast made his move, not quite going for the kill, but to incapacitate Tyr, certainly. Extending himself to take a gouge out of Tyr’s back, the beast left his neck wide open.

CHAPTER 85

Tyr let out a war cry as he lunged the blade upward, slicing through air, then hide, and then the beast’s carotid artery. Blood sprayed across the crowd.

At first surprised, then shocked as they felt the heat of real blood, the partiers froze in place.

Flailing, the beast turned on the crowd, swiping blindly as he reeled away from Tyr. Screams arose as the injuries became apparent. Finally the naïve throng realized this was no show.

A tremor went through the audience. The crowd murmured, and then they broke. Broke and ran. Screaming, yelling, and crying. Sal dropped to the side of one of the less- fortunate patrons.

The knight’s arm had nearly been cut in half. Quickly, she placed a tourniquet above the elbow. Grabbing at anyone who rushed by, Sal pulled a cleric down beside the knight.

“Get him to the boats.”

The robed cleric bobbed his head as he helped the knight up.

“Send the police. With a lot of ammunition.”

To this, the cleric nearly dislocated his neck in agreement.

From the mighty roar, too quickly the beast had recovered. The pumping of his life’s blood slowed to a trickle.

Snarling, the beast turned on Tyr.

“Get him away!” Tyr yelled as he took a blow across the shoulder.

Sal wanted to argue his words. She so desperately wanted to stay, but Tyr was right. They needed Lionel off the island. Once the professor was safely ensconced, she could return. Come back with better weapons. Maybe with Lionel’s help, find a way to best the beast at his own game.

“Come on,” she said to the men, but they were both pantomiming at her. “Speak.”

Their words came out in a jumble, so Sal ignored them as she got everyone running toward the docks.

Finally Lionel croaked out, “How did that brute text me?”

Sal had wondered the same thing up on the third floor, but had bigger issues on her mind. Now, though, it became a real question. There was no way those huge claws could work a cell phone. And Mika had been dead when the text was sent. Had the beast commanded another victim to do it?

But then, how did they have Mika’s phone?

Which brought her to another mystery that had nagged at her all evening. How had the beast gotten onto Alcatraz Island? He was too big, too red, and too smelly to hide on one of the passenger boats.

Sal resisted the horrible realization, but couldn’t fight it for long.

“The beast has—”

She felt the crystal decanter shatter against her scalp. Falling to the ground, Sal finished, “A human accomplice.”

CHAPTER 86

Propping herself up on all fours, blood running down her temple, Sal fought the urge to just lie down. She hadn’t lost consciousness, but neither had she kept her full bearings.

There were shouts, which felt further and further in the distance, or was it her slipping away? The sound of battle had faded as well. The only noise still bombarding her ringing ears was the sound of an argument. Two men.

Men.

Rising to one knee, Sal felt her scalp. A large piece of glass jutted out from her head. Gritting her teeth, she jerked it from her flesh and tossed it to the ground. When the pain finally abated and let her pupils work again, she found the men yelling at one another, a large chunk of decanter still in the Crusader’s hand, pointing at Lionel.

The professor, however, wasn’t backing down. “And you, who bitched about Anikan killing off the young Jedi? How unbelievable it was? You Dark Side-wannabe. I’m so taking you off my friend list on Facebook.”

“This wasn’t a fucking film, Lionel! It was going to kill me! Don’t tell me that you wouldn’t have given me up with that claw at your throat.”

Sal was having a hard time keeping up with the conversation, as her vision tunneled in and out. Nausea rolled over her, threatening to take her along with them. But she was a doctor, and knew that with severe head injuries, the brain assumed that a toxin had caused the damage. It wanted her to purge her stomach. But that wasn’t what happened. She knew better than her autonomic nervous system.

Cautiously, Sal rose to her feet. The pretty beaded rope fell from her head, letting her blood-matted hair tumble down. She didn’t bother pushing it away from her face.

“Put the weapon down,” Sal managed to slur out.

The Crusader snickered. “You’re not exactly in any shape to order me around now, are you?”

The punk was right. Sal didn’t think she had it in her to issue an edict with enough force to make him drop the shard. But the glass in his hand?

That was a completely different matter.

“Melt,” Sal commanded.

She hadn’t even said the word all that forcefully, yet it seemed that the remainder of the decanter was eager to liquefy, and then revert to its sand origins, slipping right through the Crusader’s fingers.

Lionel rushed forward to kick his friend-turned-traitor. “Take that, you ass-wipe.”

Head pounding, she turned to the professor. “Where’s Tyr?”

“Oh, my God. You’re bleeding!”

She pushed away Lionel’s concerned hands and glared at the Crusader.

“What are the beast’s plans?”

The scrawny man tried to back away, but Sal whispered, “Hold.”

He tried to shuffle his feet, but they refused to obey. The Crusader could only cringe as she closed the distance until they were nose to nose.

“I’m not all that good at this commanding thing. The results are rather unpredictable. And, given the fact that I’ve never tortured anyone for information before, I’m not sure how pleasant it would be.”

Sal strove for a glare that Tyr would have been proud of, contemptuous and insulted by the Crusader’s very presence. That she would feel bad for her boot if it had to endure grinding him beneath it. Sal should know. She’d felt the look so many times before. She loaded all this into her stare, because, quite honestly, Sal was dizzy, scared, and feeling in way over her head.

The Crusader tried to hold her gaze, but ultimately his cheeks flushed as he looked away. Ever so slightly, Sal allowed herself to sag. Her head throbbed from the energy it took to generate that ferocious a stare.

She needed that stamina to keep herself upright.

“It’s not my fault,” the kid whined.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you the one who lured Lionel to the north wing? The abandoned north wing? Where you were going to serve your friend up to the beast?”

The Crusader wouldn’t look her in the eye.

“The beast didn’t come out to this island without a plan B. What is it?” He refused to answer, so Sal continued, “You were there, weren’t you? When he tortured Mika. When he sucked the information from her brain? You saw exactly what the beast was going to do to Lionel.”

He seemed to regain some confidence as he looked her in the eye. “I’m not talking, so if you’re going to kill me, kill me.”

Sal felt a primordial urge to do just that. She was shaken, badly injured, and adrenaline surged through her veins. Her primitive mind latched onto the idea. To tap into that kind of power? To bring such an intent into the world? She could only imagine the rush, the thrill. It had to be the greatest high ever. It would take all her pain away.

Whether it was the blood loss from her scalp or her doctor’s oath kicking in, Sal realized that she just couldn’t do it. She couldn’t kill even scum like him.

That didn’t mean that the Crusader was necessarily going to like the alternative, though. “Where did the beast want you to lure Lionel—”

The kid snorted. “Who said it was me doing the luring?”

Locking her gaze, he took a step back, and then another as a vicious smile spread. “Or is it the beast drawing Tyr away, so I can have my way with you?”

Dear God, her command had never held him. He had stayed on purpose.

To delay them. To keep them here, rather than rushing to the docks.

“Do you know what the beast has taught me already? In just two days? I could pull a Vader and crush your neck with my mind.”

Sal tensed. The threat would have sounded absurd a day ago, or even a few hours ago, but now? Now that she was beginning to comprehend the interlacing of medicine and magic?

Did the Crusader have the knowledge that during a naturally occurring allergic reaction the throat could inflame so badly that victims sometimes choked to death before they could be treated? If the Crusader had learned such a thing…

“Swell,” he said forcibly.

She felt her throat constrict. Her glands enlarged. Soon, she was wheezing. Sal noted, however, that he waited until she was struggling to breathe before he dared step nearer to her.

“If Hing had just told me the formula, none of this would have come to pass.”

Between the head wound and lack of oxygen, Sal wasn’t sure how much longer she could stay conscious.

Then she heard a faint whisper in her mind. Get down.

CHAPTER 87

Without hesitation, Sal dropped to her knees just as a horse jumped over her head, his hooves barely missing her wounded scalp. The steed, with Tyr mounted atop, landed just past her, then barreled straight into the Crusader.

The kid was knocked back on his ass.

Tyr reined the horse around, aiming at trampling her tormentor.

Sal scrambled to her feet, rushing to intercept. “Don’t!”

Barely in time, the horse sat back on his haunches to stop. “Stand aside, Salista.”

She shook her head. “Is the beast dead?” His features clouding over answered her question. “Then we need this guy alive.”

“But not whole,” Tyr growled.

The Crusader put his hands up, crawling backward. “Please, no. I’ll tell you anything. Whatever you want.”

Tyr hopped from the horse’s back and strode to the kid who had risen on shaky legs. Without warning, Tyr slapped the Crusader with a gauntleted hand. “That is for using an edict to such foul purpose.”

While his cheek flushed a bright red, the kid looked surprised that it hadn’t hurt worse. Then in a blur, Tyr backhanded the Crusader so hard that the kid was spun around before he fell to the ground. “And that is for daring to use such on her.”

Even though it felt damn good to see the punk brought so low, she laid a hand on Tyr’s arm. “We’ve got to get off the island.”

He shook his head. “From the highland, I spied the seafaring vessels leaving for the mainland.”

Which meant that they were trapped on the island. Trapped with the beast.

CHAPTER 88

“Then we’ve got to figure out the beast’s end game,” she stated.

Everyone turned to the Crusader. Even Lionel looked menacing as he stood over the downed man. Tyr took a step forward, but Sal shook her head. She could handle this.

“Tell me everything you know, or I swear to you I’ll let Tyr have his way with you.”

The Crusader blurted out, “He wants Lionel’s formula, and then he’s going back to his time to take over his world.”

“We knew that much, you idiot. The beast and Tyr had fought to a standstill several times over. Why did he think he could best Tyr? Why now? Why here?”

“I told you! He wanted to take you to force Tyr into an error.”

Sal studied the Crusader. He was holding back. Why?

“Do you really think the beast will save you?” The still night turned a shade of red. The beast approached. “You’ve failed. He’s more likely to eat you than rescue you from us.”

Lionel stepped next to Sal. “I don’t know about that. The beast has kept him alive for a reason.”

“Thank you!” the Crusader announced.

Hing ignored his friend. “We need to think scientifically Since Kurt’s useless when it comes to my research, what does the beast need with his particular skill set?”

Her mind sped through everything that had happened since arriving on the island. The answer was somewhere in that information. But she swayed as the bloody head wound took its toll. Her memory wasn’t what it should have been. “What were you doing up on the second floor?”

“It’s rumored that one of the inmates could open his cell door with his mind, so we had a bet whether I could get it to open with my gel, or he could make a conductive substrate with common compounds found in the prison.”

Sal’s brow crinkled together. “What’s his specialty?”

“Chemical engineer, with an emphasis on combustible flow.”

“The fireworks,” she groaned. “He’s going to use the explosives.”

“The fire in the sky? There is more?” Tyr asked, clearly feeling as anxious as she was at the prospect.

Remembering the brilliant display from earlier, and knowing that was only a fraction of the fireworks on the island, the beast’s claws were the least of their problems. “We’ve got to get off Alcatraz.”

Sal glared at the Crusader. “And you know how we can.”

CHAPTER 89

They ran along the edge of the island. Waves crashed just a few feet below them. How many prisoners had jumped into that rough surf, only to have their dead bodies float onto the San Franciscan shoreline? The currents in the bay were treacherous at best. And the sharks? They were always looking for an easy meal.

Even though Sal couldn’t see Tyr, she knew he was near, on horseback, protecting their flank. This side of the island was a jumble of buildings, some ancient, some more recent. They’d just run past an old water tower and followed the shoreline behind the burnt-out warden’s house.

A howl carried on the wind. The beast had found her scent again, which wasn’t too hard given the fact her scalp wound bled so profusely.

“How much farther?” she demanded.

The Crusader wheezed from the effort of their flight. “The skiff’s tied at the easternmost tip of the island.”

It was a calculated risk to trust the sniveling man’s help, but when the air turned crimson, he became much more forthcoming about how he had transported the beast over to Alcatraz on a small private boat. A boat that was still moored up as an escape contingency.

Suddenly, the land just stopped, and the ocean started. Lionel peered over the ledge. “It’s down there.”

Sal gave the signal. From between the guards’ barracks and the KP, Tyr galloped across a field of calla lilies to join them. It took only a few seconds for the horse to close the distance. He dismounted before the stallion came to a complete stop.

“Quickly.”

The Crusader was down the rocky slope in a heartbeat. Lionel wasn’t far behind. “Don’t even think about ditching us!”

Tyr offered his hand to steady her as she made her way down the slick rock. Sal took it, but instead of urging her forward, Tyr pulled her into his embrace. His hand smoothed back her snarled hair, tenderly cupping her head near the gash.

God only knew how hideous she looked, but Tyr moved in so close that his lips tempted hers. So close that she wanted him to fulfill their intimacy.

Instead, he leaned into her ear.

“Good-bye, Salista.”

CHAPTER 90

“What do you mean? We can get out of here.”

“No,” Tyr stated. “I run no more.”

“But—”

“Beyond my blade anointed with blood from the babe,” Tyr indicated the vial around his neck, with the blood he had drawn from her back at the hospital, his bandolier simply a sash of leather, absent of tokens. “This is the last of my horde.”

“What about your HeartsBlood?” she asked.

Clamping his jaw, Tyr tugged down his belt. Sal wasn’t sure what he was doing, then she saw the telltale pink of a recently sealed wound, a slash deep enough that it probably opened Tyr’s gut.

“It is gone. I must make my stand.”

Until now, Sal had imagined Tyr near immortal. In that coat of his, there were never-ending wonders. There wasn’t a situation from which Tyr couldn’t emerge victorious.

Now he was nothing more than a man armed with a very thin blade.

Somewhere along the line, he’d even lost the bone sword she’d given him.

He squeezed her shoulders. “Spirit the professor to safety, but school him in the dangers of his work.”

She reached out, but Tyr had already turned away. In a stride, he reached his horse. Without looking back, he mounted the steed, kicking it hard so that it leapt from a standstill to a gallop. Carrying Tyr away.

“Dr. Calon, hurry!” Lionel yelled, as she heard the boat’s engine sputter to life.

CHAPTER 91

The boat hit a wave, nearly capsizing the small craft, but powered through to hit another, then another. Sal’s fingers gripped the railing, her heart aching the farther they pulled from the island.

Sal tried to reassure herself that she had done the right thing. The thing Tyr had wanted. By leaving him, she could make sure Lionel was safe, and convince him that his research only led down a dark and dangerous path.

Equally important, she could make sure the Crusader was brought to justice. Most of his crimes were beyond the penal code, but his assault on her would be enough to put him behind bars for a while.

Lionel gripped the helm with one hand and offered her the boat’s first-aid kit with the other. Sal glared at the Crusader, making sure he was still lashed to the railing before she rose from her seat. The younger man cowed away. He’d better.

Sitting back down, Sal opened the kit and took out an antiseptic gauze. Carefully parting her bloody hair, she went to find the huge gash on the back of her head. But the more she searched, the less she found. The laceration had been at least four inches long. Her scalp had been flailed open. Sal had feared she had a hairline fracture to her skull, yet she couldn’t find a single defect.

Her head was completely healed. How could that be?

Then she remembered Tyr’s hand on her. His tender touch. He had been more than just caring, he had healed her.

Sal stood up so quickly that she rocked the boat.

“Hey! Watch out!” Lionel exclaimed as he steadied their path.

Tyr had lied. He hadn’t been completely out of HeartsBlood. In fact, he’d had enough to heal her. He’d used the last of it to save her.

“Turn around!” she shouted over the engine’s sound.

“Why?” the Crusader whined.

“Pull into the docks!”

To her surprise, Lionel smiled. “I was wondering when you’d figure out that you’d stopped bleeding.”

Sal hadn’t even realized that their course hadn’t been a straight line toward the City, but Lionel had been angling them around to the west side of the island. Angling them toward the closest point to the prison. That dark, hulking structure that had brought nothing but misery and suffering to the island.

Maybe she and Tyr could change its legacy.

CHAPTER 92

“This is, seriously, the most moronic idea I’ve ever heard,” Lionel commented. And the professor didn’t even know that Tyr hated her helping, or that each time she had overridden his objections, it had ended in disaster.

Sal jumped from the boat to the dock. “Just cross the bay and get help. I mean helicopters, armor-piercing rounds, SWAT, everything.”

“I’m telling you, I can help,” Lionel asserted.

Sal pushed the skiff away from the island. “We can’t risk your brain getting into the beast’s clutches.”

Lionel frowned as he fired up the engines and pointed the boat toward the City. “Thanks for the concern.”

After making sure the professor was headed toward safety, Sal turned to Alcatraz. The red glow in the distance confirmed that the beast was still on the far side of the compound. The side with the fireworks. Everyone might appreciate their beauty, but in reality, those sparkling displays were high-charge explosives.

The beast had recruited a man with an expertise in explosives. One didn’t need a PhD to figure out that that didn’t bode well for Tyr. Sal could remember those not-so-bestial eyes back at the museum. His simian speech.

The beast had once been a human who meddled in blood and descended into the foul creature that threatened all their lives. For all she complained that Tyr didn’t respect the beast’s intelligence enough, Sal had been just as guilty.

It had never occurred to her that he would turn a man into his servant. Or use explosives as a weapon. The situation had seemed hopeless. The beast was always five steps ahead of them. Manipulating the playing field. Turning their ignorance to his advantage.

Then back on the boat, in that moment when she realized that Tyr had sacrificed the last of his HeartsBlood to heal her, Sal knew she could give the hunter an even greater gift.

She could give Tyr that which the beast sought. Not the chemical composition of Lionel’s compound, but something even better. The gel itself. Sal had been so busy trying to save their lives that she had missed the opportunity to actually, literally, save their lives.

All this time, she had known where a small aliquot of gel was hidden. On this island. This very island.

The two geeks had been up on that third floor for a reason—to test Hing’s gel against the Crusader’s chemical engineering. Kind of like the old days, when they had races between the Pony Express and the railroads.

What neither the beast nor Tyr knew was that they never got the chance to test Lionel’s theory, since he’d injured his hand. The gel should still be smeared across the locking mechanism.

Tyr might nearly be out of blood, but if the gel had the properties they feared, Sal knew that he would finally have the upper hand.

CHAPTER 93

Sal snuck up the second flight of stairs, jumping at any little sound. The park rangers that lived on the island swore the place was haunted. A building built from concrete shouldn’t have had any boards to creak or groan underfoot, yet those were exactly the sounds that startled her.

She was certain at any moment that the beast would launch from above, or below, or the sides. The air had no red hue, but still she found her muscles locking up at each noise.

How brave she always felt when she was far from danger.

Finally, she reached the third floor. In the dim light she could see the corner where they’d found the scientists. Her feet hesitated, fear tensing her muscles to the tearing point.

This was ridiculous. You’d think she’d have gotten used to skulking around dark hallways.

Sal tiptoed down the passage. Surveying the cell door with its flaking yellow paint, she noticed a glistening. Sal kneeled to find a thin film of the gel smeared over the cell’s lock. Using a tongue depressor from the first- aid kit, she scraped the gel from the metal.

When the air around her became red-tinged, Sal didn’t even try to act surprised. The beast knew her scent, and knew that she was the softer target.

Unfortunately, Sal was collecting more chipped paint than gel.

Why did her plans always sound so good in her head yet seldom bore out well in reality?

The beast didn’t even bother to roar or growl as he stalked toward her.

He just guffed. A simple acknowledgment that she was in his sights.

“You shall be mine yet…” he slurred.

She refused to tumble into panic. Sal knew that Tyr couldn’t be far behind. He would come riding in, just like he had so many other times.

Rising, she backed slowly from the beast’s approach, expecting a quiet call in her mind, or a command to get of the way.

What could she do but wait for Tyr? The beast blocked the closest stairwell. The other stairwell was the entire length of the building behind her. Outrunning the beast simply wasn’t an option.

With each passing minute, the beast became less wary, yet Sal noted he didn’t charge. His human, rounded pupils kept darting to her hand. To the gel.

“Salista!” Tyr’s shout echoed off the cement walls.

Finally!

But when she searched around, Sal couldn’t find him. Then she looked down at the ground floor. Tyr was inside the prison, but two levels away.

He took off in a sprint toward the far stairwell. Sal glanced back at the beast. He didn’t seem in the mood for his prize to be snatched away, as he picked up the pace. Tyr would never be able to intercept in time.

“Run!” he yelled, but Sal knew that she couldn’t become the beast’s prey. She had to think.

Snatching a torch from the wall, Sal threatened the beast with it. The action made the beast pause long enough to cock his head to the side, snarl, and continue. He knew that she didn’t have the skill to use it like Tyr.

Then what did she have?

As the beast’s eyes darted to her hand again, Sal clutched the tongue depressor. She had the gel. She wasn’t quite sure how she could use it, but she had to figure it out fast.

Sal rewound Hing’s demonstration in her mind. Mika had held a red ball. She’s placed her hand in the green gel. The grad student had concentrated, and the gel turned red.

So you needed to be in physical contact with the essence and the gel to make the transference of intent. As the torch crackled in her hand, she knew how much the beast hated fire.

Before he could close the distance, Sal took the gel and smeared it in a line across the floor. The beast’s eyes dilated. Dropping the depressor, Sal pressed her fingers into the gel and clung tightly to the torch.

As she said the word, she poured every ounce of hatred and fear into the intent. Sal needed a fire so hot and so big that the beast could not cross.

“Ignite!” A thrill coursed through her veins as her intent transformed into reality.

CHAPTER 94

The beast charged, but the gel erupted in flame, gaining heat as it rose to form a wall of fire between them. An inhuman scream wailed as the beast’s body caught fire. The pained shriek brought gooseflesh to her skin, even though the temperature around her had risen forty degrees.

Tyr grabbed Sal from behind.

“What have you wrought?” he asked, horrified.

Sal didn’t understand his urgency as he tugged her backward until the fire billowed out, igniting anything in its path.

“It can’t be…”

The walls were cement. The bars metal. Non-combustible. Yet they burned, fueling the furnace she had created.

They ran, but how could you outrun wildfire? The guard station was at the far end of the hall. The fire crackled at their backs. She could feel the flame build. She could feel it sucking the oxygen from the air to feed itself.

The inferno wouldn’t be satisfied until everything, including them, burned.

Safety was only a few steps away, but still too many. Tyr pulled to a stop as he shoved her toward the door. As she stumbled forward, Sal turned to watch Tyr pull the vial of her blood from around his neck. He uncorked it, seeming at peace.

With a flick of his wrist, Tyr flung her blood before him, announcing,

“Extinguish!”

Instead of subduing the fire, the blood inflamed the blaze. Just as she jerked the door handle open, the conflagration burst outward. Tyr tried to turn away, but flame lashed up his side.

His scream was so much worse, because it was purely human.

Sal disregarded the blast of heat and snatched Tyr’s arm, dragging him into the guards’ room, then slamming the door closed on the furnace.

Instantly, the handle became super-heated. Sal jumped back from the door.

But her injured palm wasn’t her concern. Tyr was. She rushed to his side, but he shoved her back.

“You lied,” he hissed.

“What? I don’t—”

“The blood… it held no love.”

Sal didn’t understand what Tyr meant, then looked to the empty vial still clutched in his burnt hand. The blood she had donated while she thought of Richard. The man she was engaged to. The man whom it was now proven that she did not love.

The room took on a red glow, but this time it wasn’t from the beast. It was from something worse—a firestorm that she had created. They couldn’t stay here. With the fury of the fire, they’d die of heat exhaustion before the flames burnt through the door. And Tyr was injured. From the way he sagged against the wall, badly. She couldn’t attend to his burns until they were safe.

Tears threatened. This was all her fault. She’d misused the gel and lied about the blood. She had doomed them both.

Despair tried to take hold, but Sal refused. She couldn’t give up. They both still had a heartbeat. So what was her mantra? Keep trying.

If she’d doomed them, then it was up to her to save them.

“Could love’s blood get us past the flames to the ground floor?”

Tyr’s jaw muscles were doubled over on themselves as he snorted.

“Only the strongest, most potent of love could hope to shelter us so.”

Sal extended her arm. “Then take it now.”

CHAPTER 95

The sneer on Tyr’s lips cut nearly as deeply as the blow to her head earlier. “You have not that depth of emotion. Not for him.”

His words hurt, but Sal didn’t lower her exposed wrist. “No, not for Richard, but for another.”

Tyr’s features clouded as he searched her eyes. “We will die if you speak not the truth.”

“Ask me.”

Pulling his knife, Tyr brought the blade to her tender skin. “Speak the name of he whom you covet above all other.”

“Tyr DeadBlood.” She didn’t need to picture the man she loved, because he stood before her. She didn’t need to imagine what he meant to her as his eyes misted over.

The knife’s path across her skin didn’t even hurt this time. The tingle was nearly sensual. Too quickly, the blood dripped from her vein, filling the vial. Tyr fitted the stopper.

At first, Sal was surprised that he didn’t bind the wrist wound, then he brought her hand up to his lips. Tenderly, he kissed her flesh. She’d never felt such a rush of desire before. If it weren’t for his burns and the conflagration outside, she would have broken every vow to Richard that she’d ever spoken.

Just as quickly, his lips pulled away from the wound that was already healed. The effect on her pulse didn’t abate so quickly. It became hard to follow his words.

“Do you understand the fire’s font?” he said, then slumped.

Sal caught him. His weight pressed against her.

“I’m sorry?”

Tyr’s teeth were nearly clenched shut. “What intent did you infuse into your edict?”

She already knew where he was going with his inquiry. That rush when “ignite” came off her lips told her she’d stepped over some invisible line into descent. There had been hints of it before, but it had felt like the blaze had flowed first through her veins before it set fire to the gel.

“How much I feared and hated the beast,” Sal said in an almost girl-like tone. How could she have been so stupid? Pouring such negative emotion into such a volatile substance.

“But not even I hate him that much.” Sal indicated toward the small window, which showed a whipping wildfire.

His teeth were clenched. “Think to the place’s intent. What sort of men sweat against these walls?”

Oh, no. Alcatraz was a prison. A cruel, maximum-security prison, where the worst of the worst were housed. And if only a tenth of the stories were true, the worst guards. Her fear and hatred might have sparked the fire, but the prison itself, with its decades-worth of rape and torture was its fuel.

A nearly endless font of pain.

Knowing what fueled the fire didn’t help her fight the fire, though. They needed to get the hell out of there.

“Can you make it downstairs?” she asked.

The fire licked under the doorway, sweeping the floor, looking for a new victim. Tyr didn’t bother to waste energy on an answer. They either made it downstairs, or they were dead.

“You must purge your heart of the beast. You must—”

“I got it,” she said, helping him toward the door.

“No, you do not.” He found her eyes. “Not only must you feel no hatred or even fear, you must hold only that intent which filled the vial.”

She searched his features and found that he wasn’t exaggerating.

Tyr held the tiny crystal container in his hand. “To feel anything less will spell our end.”

CHAPTER 96

“But, hey, not too much pressure,” Sal commented.

Tyr’s eyebrow went up.

“Never mind. I can do it.”

“It is far, and—”

Sal put his arm over her shoulder, taking the bulk of his weight off his injured leg. “I will do it.”

He still didn’t look completely convinced, but let her open the door.

The fire roared into the room as they used the door as a screen. As the metal burnished orange, Tyr dashed the blood onto them.

“Protect!”

As if the inferno could sense their presence, flames licked around the door, tumbling over itself to claim them, then the blast hit their Praxis shield.

With Tyr pressed so closely to her, it wasn’t difficult to project love.

Whatever the fear stirred up by this cauldron of fire, it could wait until later.

They took to the hall, walking through what should have been a wall of flame, only they traveled unscathed. Sal could feel the blasting heat all around her, yet her skin wasn’t scorched.

Frustrated, the fire roiled around them, trying to find a way past Tyr’s blood shield. Licks of flame danced at their feet, hoping to trip them. Despite the primordial terror that gripped her belly, Sal took care to project only a calm, loving demeanor. Tendrils of fire snaked into any tiny crack between their bodies, yet she held fast.

Their lives depended on it.

Tyr’s leg nearly gave out on the stairs, slowing their progress. The conflagration seemed to sense his weakness. The fire pressed in closer, mocking her efforts.

Sal began to sweat. Not so much from the mystical flame, but from the effort of supporting Tyr. They had barely made it down one flight of stairs, how were they going to climb down another?

Worse, when she reached out to open the door to the next stairwell, it was locked.

“Open!” but the damn thing was metal. Even Tyr tried, but in his weakened state, the door refused to budge.

She looked down the long, enflamed hallway. It was so long. And so enflamed. Sal silently sought Tyr’s advice. Tight-lipped, he nodded. It was also their only choice. She helped him hobble down the lengthy passage. Sal tried to ignore the hideous sights as they passed by the torture chambers. The waxen figures melted where they stood. The manufactured horror had become real. Eyes liquefied, running down dripping cheeks. Bodies molded with their torture devices, becoming one.

If they didn’t get the hell out of there soon, very, very soon, that would be them, melting into the concrete.

CHAPTER 97

Finally, they were to the far stairwell. Tyr more slipped down the steps than walked, but they made it to the first floor.

A pop within the fire sent a small ember into the air that struck her cheek. It burned for a millisecond, then disappeared. But the flame, in only this small way, had gotten through. Emboldened, the air warped around them as the temperature skyrocketed.

It might not be able to roast them, but the fire could consume the oxygen they needed to breathe. Her lungs complained as the air became thin.

Ignoring her brain’s frantic call for oxygen, Sal thought of her most powerful memories of Tyr. The first time he had ever touched, but not touched her. On the bank of the lake when he struggled to ask for her help. Him sailing over her on horseback, knocking that bastard Crusader on his ass.

Yet the fire was winning. Had she failed yet again?

Then she realized it was not her failing, but Tyr. His head had slumped against her shoulder. He was barely conscious. Without his skill to bind her intent to the blood, their protection was waning. Waning rapidly.

There was no way they could make it all the way to the exit, as another ember landed on her skirt, smoldering a hole down to her knee.

Wait. The main entrance wasn’t the only way out. Sal searched the walls. Sure enough, a charcoaled sign announced the “Inter-facility Tunnel System.” Hauling Tyr’s near-dead weight, she reached for the handle.

The fire knew her intent and heated the metal until it glowed red-hot.

Not allowing anger to get the best of her, she thought of adorable little puppies, a newborn baby, and ice cream, lots and lots of ice cream. The knob under her palm cooled, if but a fraction.

Sal knew the knob was metal. She knew that the tension strength of the material was far higher than she should ever hope to control, but the flames were not content with just licking at them any longer. They flared and sparked, eager to have their revenge.

Asking not for herself, or for her life, but for Tyr, Sal breathed the word softly, carefully, kindly, “Open.”

With no resistance whatsoever, the metal turned under her hand. Any calm she felt evaporated as she dragged Tyr’s heavy frame through the door.

They tumbled down the damp stairs, fire on their tail. Sal let Tyr fall to the floor. She could carry him no farther.

“Back,” Sal commanded, her panic barely contained.

The air crackled its aggravation. Sparks danced before her, trying to breach that last thin layer of protection. Damn it. She couldn’t use fear or anger. Those emotions only fueled the fire she had begun. Unfortunately those were the only emotions she had left.

The flames encircled her, whipping around her. Testing the magic.

Was desperation a viable emotion?

“Please,” she begged, tears dripping from her eyelashes. “Leave us.”

It seemed as if the wind changed, despite the fact there wasn’t any breeze in the underground tunnel. The inferno rolled back upon itself, climbing the stairs. Knowing that fire was nothing but fickle, Sal charged after it and slammed the door shut.

As if just made aware that its revenge was thwarted, she felt the flames blast against the door. The metal heated, but held.

Sal rushed to Tyr’s side. His face was ashen and his skin pasty. She checked his pulse. It raced like a hummingbird’s.

Severe shock. Life-threatening shock.

CHAPTER 98

Sal pulled Tyr’s coat away from his right side. His flesh had become nothing more than a molten smear of pink. As gently as she could, Sal probed the tip of the wound.

Tyr roused. At least that meant the area still had functional nerve endings. It also looked like there was a good blood supply. Some fluids, antibiotics, and debridement of the damaged tissue, and they wouldn’t need HeartsBlood to heal him.

“Fret no more,” he said feebly.

She pushed away the hand that tried to keep her from examining the lower section of the burn. His pants had melted onto his leg. Leather and skin had become one. The smell of charred flesh threatened to upend her stomach. Sal refused to vomit. She’d seen bad burns before. She’d treated horrible burns before.

But as she picked away the flakes of burnt clothes, she found something she’d never seen before. Beneath the layer of scorched leather, she could find no flesh. Sal took off three layers of char only to find more layers of char.

This wasn’t a second-degree or even a third-degree burn. It was a tenth degree burn. It was like the time she’d forgotten a steak in the broiler for over an hour. The meat had gone from well done to burnt to charcoal. Just like Tyr’s flesh.

Horrified, Sal looked up, but he seemed to already know the extent of the damage.

“There is a last prayer of my people…”

“No!” she exclaimed. “No,” she said again, this time more measured.

Sal refused to give up. His heart was still beating.

But inside, she cringed. While that was her normal mantra, there was one condition where she had to counsel her students not to hold out hope.

Extensive third-degree burns.

The body simply couldn’t cope with that much damage. While medicine had advanced greatly over the centuries, burns still exceeded their ability to heal. And these burns?

“No,” she moaned, tears spilling over, falling on the charred tissue.

Tyr reached a hand out and wiped her cheek. “Even a witch of your skill could heal not a blaze of intent.”

Sal hung her head. It had been her hatred that would kill him.

“Before…” Tyr had to stop and lick his lips before he continued. “Before the pain becomes too great, let me teach you the prayer. It must be spoken at the moment of my parting.”

His words washed over her, but Sal didn’t really hear them. She was still immersed in her grief.

“If intent caused the injuries,” Sal spoke her thought process out loud, “could intent not heal them?”

Tyr shook his head. “Without HeartsBlood, I am done.”

“Damn it! Why did you use the last of it on me?”

He cradled her cheek in his hand. “It would not have been enough. Please allow me to teach you—”

“No,” she said forcefully, pulling his hand away. “Think. If we just need more HeartsBlood, let’s figure out how to get more HeartsBlood.”

“The heart holds its blood dear. Only one highly skilled in the art of drawing may attempt such a feat, and even then… many do not survive.”

Of course they didn’t. No matter how tough the heart seemed, it was actually quite a fragile organ. The heart was a tissue like any other in the body. It needed oxygen and nutrients to fuel its constant pumping. And since it worked harder than any other organ in the body, it was highly sensitive to any interruption in its circulation. Although bathed in the blood that it pumped through the body, the muscle took no nutrients from it.

As any heart attack victim soon realized, the organ had its own set of blood vessels that fed the pump. Something as tiny as cholesterol plaques could block the oxygen supply to the muscle, and once that happened, the tissue died and the pump that kept the rest of the body alive stopped. Now imagine sticking a needle into that frail organ. It didn’t mind you drawing blood from its chambers, but lancing one of its vital blood vessels?

You might as well slit both carotid arteries. It was as sure a death.

“I can do it.”

“The skill required—”

Sal felt resolve strengthen her words. “I do it for a living, Tyr.” He tried to interrupt, but she overrode him. “I’ve done dozens of cardiac sticks.” Granted, it was to pump adrenaline into the heart, but still, she’d done it and never hit a major vessel.

He sighed long and hard before he spoke. “Of that I have no doubt, but to distill the essence. To tamper with the very—”

She had an idea about that as well, but the thought was still percolating in her subconscious. Right now, she just needed to get the HeartsBlood.

“What choice do we have?” She asked.

Tyr had no answer.

Sal fished the first-aid kit out of her pocket and pulled out a syringe.

Despite an effort that flushed his cheeks, Tyr backed away from the needle. Instead of fighting, she brought her lips to his ear as he had done so many times to her.

Using the softest of whispers, Sal asked, “We are bound, are we not?”

CHAPTER 99

Sal backed away just enough so that they could look into each other’s eyes. His gaze flickered over her features. His answer came in the form of tilting his head to one side. She lowered hers to the other. In nearly slow motion, they closed the gap between their lips.

At first their touch was tentative, neither sure the other had truly committed, but once their warmth mingled, there was nothing hesitant about the kiss. With more strength than he should have had, Tyr’s hand pulled her even closer. Her lips parted as his tongue found hers.

There was nothing else in the world. Not the roar of the fire just above, or the constant dripping of water from the moss-lined ceiling. There was just the kiss. Their shared breath. Their shared desire.

What should have been a magical eternity drew Sal sharply into the reality of the moment. For as warm as his mouth was, she could feel his thready pulse beneath her fingers. He was dying.

Never pulling their lips from one another, Sal counted the intercostal spaces with her left hand as she readied the syringe with her right. She could feel his heart beating just beneath the surface, trying to fight on while his body shut down.

How she wished that she had an ultrasound machine. Hell, she’d be content with a sterile swab, but she didn’t have time for any of that.

Weakening, Tyr’s hand fell from her head.

She kissed his lips one last time. “This is going to hurt.”

As Sal plunged the needle across his chest and into his heart, Tyr gasped, his eyelids fluttering open, his lips bled of their color.

Sal could feel the beat of his heart reverberating through the needle. She couldn’t hold it firmly or she’d cut the muscle. Slowly, she drew the bright red blood from his ventricle. Once the syringe was filled to capacity, she whipped the needle out.

Another pained gasp.

Putting pressure against the small hole she had created, Sal whispered, “It’s going to be okay. The pain will pass. Just breathe…”

Finally, Tyr’s chest stopped heaving. Unfortunately, once his breaths started again, they were shallow. She was losing him.

“You have my HeartsBlood, witch,” Tyr slurred. “But what will you do with it?”

That was a very good question.

CHAPTER 100

Tyr’s eyelids flagged as he laid his head against the damp concrete floor. The syringe with his still-warm HeartsBlood lay in Sal’s hand. If she had gambled incorrectly, she had just sapped him of the last of his energy. But she wasn’t wrong. Not this time. A theory had been brewing in the back of her mind. Her conscious mind had been asking many questions, and her subconscious had been trying to respond, but she’d been too busy starting fires of intent to listen. The full answer still hadn’t surfaced, but Sal knew enough to make some conjecture.

How could she, and apparently the Crusader, pick up edicts so quickly, when clearly in Tyr’s time, it took years to manipulate essence that skillfully?

This question dovetailed right into why the beast had come to this time. Why this year? This week?

The answer to all of the queries centered on Lionel’s experiment. Clearly, the beast focused on the technical basis of intent and essence. Sal and the Crusader both had advanced scientific training. Once they became aware of the principles of the inner workings of electrons and plasma, they could hone their intent. Understanding the molecular basis for edicts gave them far finer control over their intent.

At least that’s what Sal counted on. Gambled Tyr’s life on. Focusing on the HeartsBlood in the syringe, she thought of the red cells carrying oxygen. She thought of the white cells ready to fight infections. She thought of the chemotactic factors that would be released to call even more healing cells to the area. She thought of those things and even more as she pulled back Tyr’s coat to expose the charred leg.

Sal steadied her hand. She would not waste another drop. Pushing on the plunger, she allowed a full bead of blood to form at the tip of the needle. Skillfully, she laid that drop upon the edge of the wound. But Sal didn’t stop there. As she carefully spread the fluid out, maximizing the area it could heal, Sal spoke to the wound.

“Histamine.”

Where the HeartsBlood touched the edge between pale flesh and black burn, the skin flashed a bright pink. The tissue along the wound swelled.

Healing started with inflammation. And pain.

Tyr’s hand reached down, weakly trying to dig into the itch. The sensation must have felt like a thousand bee stings, but she couldn’t stop.

Once the edge was a robust magenta, Sal used another drop.

“Cytokines,” she whispered. Slowly at first, then more rapidly, the tissue receded to a healthy pink. Sal was witness to a day’s or weeks’ worth of healing playing out in front of her. The cleanup hormones of the body were preparing the leg for revascularization.

“Fibrocytes,” she called. Tiny veins sprang from the tissue and pushed into the charcoal substance that had once been flesh. The charred surface throbbed.

Sal spread out another drop, “Collagen.”

Tyr moaned as his body replaced destroyed flesh with scar tissue.

The black defect in his leg contracted, but didn’t disappear. The damage had gone deep. Fixing the surface wouldn’t heal down to the bone.

She gripped Tyr’s hand. “I’m going to have to inject the HeartsBlood.”

Sal wasn’t even sure if he could understand. He didn’t even squeeze her hand back, but he did flinch as the needle went straight into the center of the burn. Pushing several drops into the tissue surrounding the bone, Sal pulled out the needle. She repeated the maneuver another dozen times. With each stab, Tyr reacted less and less, until his hand fell flaccid from hers.

The HeartsBlood used, Sal abandoned the syringe and felt for his carotid.

She almost thought he didn’t have a pulse, but it was there. Weak and slow.

His color had faded to the color of the gray concrete beneath them. Briefly, she considered pulling more blood from his heart, but the puncture wound on his chest still dribbled.

Her worst fear had come true. Tyr had gone into DIC. The medical term meant disseminated intervascular coagulopathy, but around the hospital its nickname was ‘Death is Close.’ Once the blood stopped clotting, you could bleed anywhere. Heart, lungs, brain.

Sal knew she had utilized the HeartsBlood to its best advantage, but now she needed good old medicine. Steroids.

She was loath to leave his side, but she had to get help. Lionel should have gotten back to the City by now. The cavalry should be on its way.

Looking over her shoulder, she surveyed the long, empty corridor. Pipes ran along the ceiling, leaking from decade’s worth of old rust. The moisture fed the moss that grew on the brick sections of the wall. Bare concrete, green brick, bare concrete. The passageway looked like a chessboard that stretched on forever.

From her previous tours, Sal knew that this passageway dead-ended not far from here. The 1989 Santa Cruz earthquake had collapsed the tunnel.

That left going back into the firestorm. She looked up to the metal door, now a burnished red, the steel nearly melting.

Her Praxis was too weak to face such fury.

Checking Tyr’s wound again, she found good news and horrible news.

The black had been replaced by pink, but the new tissue was mottled and oozing. It appeared that the HeartsBlood had healed the burn of intent, but left behind a real third-degree burn. An enormous third-degree burn.

If it didn’t get treated, infection would creep into the wound and into Tyr’s blood vessels. If he somehow survived the DIC, he’d be septic within the hour. Not even San Francisco General could help him, then.

Maybe she could dig her way through the collapsed tunnel?

BANG!

The metal door warped. She’d heard the sound before. Back at the museum. The beast sought to break in. And what the beast sought to break, he usually shattered.

Another BOOM and the door flew open with a blast of furnace air.

CHAPTER 101

Sal threw herself over Tyr’s form as flames shot into the damp hallway, their fury only slightly subdued by the moisture. Then the conflagration pulled back up the stairs, sparing them.

Had she somehow done it? Then her heart fell.

In the doorway, the beast strode. She had thought, or at least hoped, he’d been injured by the fire, but there he stood, the flames crackling around his dreadlocked mane. He seemed immune to the fire.

Which shouldn’t have surprised her. What else was he but hatred given form?

The beast’s tail swished in victory. Sal couldn’t fight him, let alone battle the fire at the same time. They were going to die.

Wait. She might die, but could she save Tyr? Could she somehow protect him until the authorities arrived?

A roar filled the narrow tunnel. A roar of confidence. A roar of arrogance. But Sal didn’t flinch. Let him roar.

She brought Tyr’s blade to her wrist. In a single, smooth motion, Sal nicked her wrist. As she thought of nothing but the man who lay on the floor and her love for him, blood dribbled from the wound onto the blade. It ignited white.

The beast just guffed. He’d seen that trick before. As Tyr had explained, her fear-blood couldn’t hurt him anymore. But her love blood? Sal wanted to see how he handled that.

Flicking her wrist, she sprayed blood over her. “Protect.”

Not waiting to test the command, Sal charged at the beast. Fire parted before her as the beast nimbly backed away from her slashing knife.

Undeterred, Sal kept up the attack. Sal had no hope of hitting him, but she drove the beast back far enough to close the door behind her.

Sal gulped. Tyr was safe, but now she stood alone, in the center of a firestorm fueled by hatred of the most sordid kind, to face a beast that outweighed her by four hundred pounds. And that didn’t even include his claws and Praxis.

Soon, very soon, either the fire or the beast would test her mettle. And Sal knew they would find it wanting.

With a snarl that sent flames alight, the beast seemed to want the first bite.

CHAPTER 102

Sal desperately slashed, slicing his foot. The beast howled, intensifying the heat around them like a flash point. She could feel the flames pressing up against her protection shield. Tasting the blood. Seeing if it was pure.

The screams took on a maniacal edge. Those tortured so long ago sought revenge. The fire, fed by their hatred, was fixed upon her. They wished her to suffer as they had.

Around them, the prison seemed to be made of wax, the thick cement walls melting as the figures had in the cells. Metal bars dripped red-hot steel, bending as if made of nothing more than plastic.

It might not be the fire or the beast that was her undoing, but Alcatraz falling down upon her head.

The beast’s tail was at it again, only this time not displaying confidence but agitation. She’d hurt him again. He didn’t like that. Then why would he not leave? The fire welcomed him. He could turn and easily flee. His token braid was nearly as empty as Tyr’s bandolier. The one item she could make out was the small chunk of bloodstained statue.

“You think yourself my equal, witch?” the beast slurred.

Sal raised Tyr’s knife, trying to look as threatening as she could while still holding love in her heart. “Just leave. Go back to your time.”

The beast’s lips pulled back into something akin to a cruel smile. “Not until I bleed Tyr to his last drop.”

“Why? He’s no threat to you.”

The beast took a step closer. “Did he not tell you?”

His human eyes bored into her. Sal tried searching them for some clue, but she could find only hatred.

“Tyr is my brother.”

CHAPTER 103

“Brother?” She whispered as she fell back a step. How could that be?

“A dead blood can have no sibling.”

The beast’s lips stretched into a feral grin, exposing his four-inch-long fangs. “None after. But I am his elder.”

Why hadn’t Tyr told her? As her mind faltered, the fire licked at her feet. Sensing her conflict, it sought a way past her Praxis. She firmed her resolve. “It doesn’t matter,” Sal said, hoping that the words made it true.

He strode forward a step. “I wish him to live long enough to know that I violated his woman.”

Her instinct was to push him back away, to gain ground between them.

Then something in his braid caught her eye. Something pink. Something Hello Kitty.

Maria. Her stomach knotted to know that the beast had taken her best friend’s blood, and then ripped the choker from her neck. Revulsion weakened her shield, and the flames lapped at her toes. Gaining confidence.

Then love of her best friend welled from somewhere deep in her heart. As tears threatened, Sal feared that the fire would get the upper hand. Instead, the inferno rolled back. It was only an inch, but it rolled back.

As the beast snarled, she knew what she needed to do. She didn’t want him to back away, but come closer. Really close.

“I thought you said you were going to take me?” Sal baited.

The beast’s head cocked, not certain of her change in tone.

She raised the knife. “What’s wrong? Afraid? Your brother would have had me on my back by now.”

He launched at her even faster than she had imagined possible, but her blade was at the ready. In his leap, the beast deftly defended his body against the knife, when she really aimed for his mane.

Throwing herself to the side, Sal cut the dreadlock off, then clutched it to her chest as she fell to the floor.

The beast roared in triumph as he turned on her, only at the last second realizing what she held in her hand. Just as he leapt, Sal raised the Hello Kitty choker and Maria’s vial of blood.

“Let’s try this again,” she said as she smashed the vial against the concrete floor.

CHAPTER 104

Thinking of the look on Maria’s face when she opened the sparkling Hello Kitty choker, Sal felt a gust of wind swirl around her. She might love Tyr, but Maria? Maria she cherished beyond words. If hate fueled the flames around her, could love quench them?

A white flame shot up from the shattered vial, singeing the beast as he charged. He threw himself back as his scream merged with the crackling laughter of tortured souls. The stark light burnt up his leg and singed away half of his mane. Under the charred hair, Sal could make out a small and very human ear.

The light spread outward, cooling the room a good twenty degrees. While the glittering flame had burnt the beast, it served to only embrace Sal.

All was not well, though. The tortured wails shrieked as the white light engulfed the red flames. Worse, the struggle between the burning hatred and fierce love threatened the stability of the prison.

The building rocked underfoot as the third floor collapsed onto the second, and the second story swayed as if floating on water.

Sal turned to rush back to the tunnel as dripping-hot chunks of concrete fell from above, all around. The white light of Maria’s love might be extinguishing the hate, but the loathing still fought to claim her.

Protecting her head, Sal backed away from the tumbling concrete, which now steamed under the white light’s cooling effect. Her plan had exceeded her hopes. Maria’s love bathed her and quenched the fire. Things should be so much better, only as she ducked and dodged the collapsing building’s debris, being forced farther and farther from the tunnel and Tyr, they were more dire than ever.

How could she have come so far, only to fail now? As the disintegrating building crashed down around her, blocking any exit, Sal knew that she was done. She could only pray that the tunnel held and that she had saved Tyr.

CHAPTER 105

Darting under a pile of rubble that seemed more stable than the buckling walls, Sal closed her eyes. The tormented screams had joined with the screeching of metal and the shattering of concrete. Alone, she waited for the world to cave in on her.

Then she heard a tinkling of laughter. More dementia. Only it didn’t sound tortured or crazy. It sounded happy. Delighted, even. Were the damned souls finding another way to be cruel? To laugh as she died?

But she recognized that laugh. It was too delightful and too infectious to be mean. Sal peeked out from her unstable shelter to find the torn choker at the center of the white light.

Maria’s choker.

Maria’s laughter.

Tears sprang to Sal’s eyes. She wasn’t alone, after all. Maria was here to comfort her.

Another huge portion of the roof collapsed, shaking the rubble around her. It wouldn’t be long. She looked back at the choker and embraced the laughter that surrounded her. Best friends would be rejoined.

Then she noticed that the white light didn’t spread out in a pool, but rather followed the angle of the choker. Across the stacked debris, Sal noted a large defect in the wall. Beyond the white light shone the stars.

An escape route.

“Thank you, Maria,” she whispered as she dashed between falling boulders of cement. Sal snatched up the choker as she fled the prison.

Stumbling onto the rocky terrain outside the prison, Sal felt the white light explode behind her. Maria had held back, waiting until she was to safety before releasing the full power of their bond.

The prison looked like a house of cards blown by a stiff wind. The red flames fled upward, trying to escape into the sky, but couldn’t outrun the searing white. The light entangled the red. It seemed as if the white strangled the red out, and then Sal realized that Maria’s spirit wasn’t out to destroy the hatred, but to embrace those lost souls.

Tears spilled over. Typical Maria, bringing them to her bosom. Her laughter joined her best friend’s as the red finally gave out, giving itself over to love.

In a single moment, the prison that had held such pain collapsed completely, leaving only an enormous pile of rubble, the hatred burned out forever.

Sniffling as the laughter faded as well, Sal felt wonder leach away as reality set in. If she and Maria could do that with just a little blood, what could the beast do with Lionel’s gel?

Tyr’s words eclipsed the joy she felt at feeling her best friend’s loving spirit again. “He could split the world.” Looking at a national landmark leveled in a matter of minutes, Sal knew that Tyr hadn’t been exaggerating.

Worse, the hunter was trapped under there.

CHAPTER 106

Could the tunnel have survived? Why hadn’t she placed a protection Praxis over Tyr before she left? If he died, and she lived…

Sal wouldn’t think about that. She had to get back in there. Find him. Following the line of the wall, Sal tried to find another entry point. The one she had escaped from was closed off by about a ton of debris.

If Sal knew Maria—and right now, still hearing her friend’s laughter ringing in her ears—she felt supremely confident that she did, Maria would have protected Tyr as best she could. If there was any way, she would have left Sal a path to him.

Going around a huge chunk of toppled roof, Sal tripped. Figuring it was just more rebar, she untangled her legs from a steel contraption. It wasn’t until Sal freed herself that she realized her error. This was no stray metal.

This machine had purpose. The four-barreled mechanism was the fireworks launcher. But it looked modified.

The Crusader’s work. He and the beast had quadrupled the payload, from the looks of it. The tubes were crammed with explosives—the weapon they intended to murder Tyr with.

Sal gained her feet. They needn’t have bothered. She was doing a fine job all by herself. Shaking off any doubt that Tyr was nothing but alive and healing, Sal went to move on, then noticed a small defect about halfway up the pile. Was that a way in?

About to climb the debris, Sal froze. The white light had died, leaving only a subliminal glow that was now tainted red. Not from the fire, but the beast. Not only had he survived the collapse, but he was near.

Reluctantly raising her eyes, she found him cresting the pile of rubble. He was now the sight of a new horror. No longer majestic, the beast had been burnt nearly to the bone. Red, oozing wounds stood out starkly against his black, charred skin.

With no fur, the beast’s face took on an eerie human quality. His tender pink ear looked not unlike her own. But those glistening fangs didn’t resemble anything remotely human.

No matter his injuries, rage kept his tail lashing violently side to side. Although one eye was swollen shut, there was no doubt that the beast knew her location exactly.

Then why hadn’t he launched at her? He’d made a leap even greater back at the de Young. Had he also consumed all of his healing elixir? Did he now have to fear death as she did? Could she use it to her advantage?

“Go home.”

A low growl rumbled from his throat. “Not without your thoughts.”

Panic welded her feet in place. She knew what happened when the beast sought anyone’s thoughts. She’d seen the autopsy reports. And what did she have to fight him with? The knife was lost in the rubble. She had no more blood for Praxis. How could she survive against even an injured beast?

A strange thumping filled the air. Was that a rotor wash she heard?

Were the helicopters on their way? Carefully, she backed up a step.

“More men come with weapons. Can you survive another assault?”

His tail swished. His growl was so deep it masked whatever words he meant to speak. The beast’s muscles bunched, rippling. She’d seen it too many times before. The helicopter would never make it in time.

Sal took another stride back, though. Maybe there was another way.

“You’ve got the heartbroken blood from the statue. Just go home.”

As the beast roared so loudly that the sound obliterated all else, Sal didn’t bother to mask her goal any longer as she bolted for the fireworks launcher.

CHAPTER 107

Sal placed her hands on the cool steel of the launcher. The beast leapt. Her mind whirled. To use foul intent to protect herself would result in nothing more than her own descent.

She had to think of another way. She needed to think like Tyr.

What was the fireworks’ intent? Not fear or harm, but beauty.

What did the fireworks want more than anything?

As the beast’s bulk fell toward her, Sal closed her eyes.

“Release,” she whispered.

Not until she felt the vibration of the steel as the wicks lighted did she aim the launcher into the beast’s path. The four rockets blasted from their base, loaded with enough gunpowder to level the island.

The beast flailed, trying to avoid the collision, but the entire complement of the explosives hit him in the gut, propelling him up into the sky, far above the island.

The brilliant explosion forced Sal to shield her eyes. When she opened them again, the sky was filled with fireworks.

Glittering, twinkling sparkles, but all red.

No matter how hard she searched, though, there was no sign of the beast.

CHAPTER 108

The dazzling display of scarlet fireworks was scattered as a helicopter swept in from the west. Sal waved as she watched the skies for any remnant of the beast.

If he were dead, shouldn’t there be bits of him everywhere? Fur, claws, fangs? Instead, there was nothing. In that last moment, he must have used the girl’s heartbroken blood to guide him home.

Sal felt tears of relief sting. He had left this dimension. He was gone.

She was safe. But Tyr might not be. As the helicopter set down, Sal couldn’t have been happier when Paul, in full flight suit, exited.

“Dr. Calon!” They met in an embrace. “What are you doing here?”

“We’ve got to get in there!” She pointed to the decimated prison.

The nurse’s brows tugged together until they met. “Look at it. It’s not stable. We’re going to have to wait until—”

“Tyr… I mean, a performer’s been badly injured in the fire. He’s down in the tunnel.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t see how—”

Paul was right. It was crazy to head back into that precarious pile. It was one of those really bad ideas that Maria would have embraced. Sal still had a “protect” edict. Would it be strong enough?

“I’m going in,” Sal said as she scrambled up the debris toward the breach she’d seen before the beast interrupted her.

To her surprise, the nurse wasn’t far behind her. “Damn, girl. At least tell me what the hell happened.”

“Once we get him out.”

Clinging to the Hello Kitty choker, Sal squeezed her way through the narrow opening between a concrete block and a fragmented cell door. As if Maria had used force of will to create a passage, they made their way to the tunnel door.

“Oh, my God,” Paul whispered as they passed through the belly of the wrecked prison. “I don’t see how… Sal, are you sure anyone could have survived?”

Ignoring the nurse, Sal rushed forward. Paul was still thinking as Sal had before, as if the world was not made up of essence and intent. That Praxis could not perform near miracles.

Finally after carefully climbing over a near fence of broken rebar, they came to the door, although you would be hard-pressed to call it a door anymore. The metal was bent and warped, mangled beyond recognition in the fire.

“Open.” The knob turned easily under her palm. While the door might be metal, that word was no request, but an edict.

Relief flooded her as she found the tunnel intact. Within seconds, she dropped to Tyr’s side. She checked his pulse. Fast and shallow. His color was still way too pale, but Sal couldn’t help but notice his burn was half the size it had been when she left him. The injected HeartsBlood must still be doing its job.

Sal held Tyr’s hand as Paul started the IV. “Bolus a gram of Ancef.”

“You weren’t kidding. He really got torched,” the nurse commented as he pushed the antibiotics in.

Paul didn’t know the half of it. Her friend couldn’t realize the extent of damage a burn of intent could inflict. Anything he’d seen before in the ER paled in comparison.

She checked Tyr’s pulse again as they loaded him onto the gurney. Maybe not strong yet, but steady, and his chest wall looked like it was actually making an effort to breathe now.

As they carried Tyr up the steps to the guard shack, Paul asked, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Long story.”

Unaware of the night’s toll, the nurse chuckled. “Too bad it’s only a short flight back to General.”

Once they loaded Tyr into the helicopter, Paul became too preoccupied with setting up the blood pressure cuff and pulse oximeter to ask any questions.

Lucky for her, because Sal just didn’t think she had it in her to lie anymore. Not while she smoothed the hair back from Tyr’s forehead. After a liter of fluids bloused, his lips lost their grayish tinge and flushed pink. If she didn’t know better, it just looked like he was asleep. Resting.

She should have been delighted. They had both made it. They were both alive, and the beast was no longer a threat. Yet Sal was unable to pat herself on the back.

Would Tyr be so happy when he awoke to know the beast fled? More importantly, how would Tyr feel about being stuck in this time?

Forever?

With her?

CHAPTER 109

By the time the helicopter came to a bumpy landing on the roof of the hospital, Tyr was nearly conscious. Okay, maybe that was a stretch, but he responded to painful stimuli, trying to pull his arm away when Paul put in a second IV catheter.

“It’s all right, babe. Just stay still,” she soothed.

When Tyr immediately quieted, Paul’s eyebrow shot up, but he didn’t ask where this newfound intimacy came from. “Let’s get your man down to the ER.”

After reassuring every person they met on their way down to the ground floor that she was fine, they finally wheeled Tyr into Trauma One. A flurry of activity swirled as the staff stabilized his condition.

Surprisingly, Sal didn’t feel the urge to help out. Sure, she trusted the resident on duty, Limely, but she trusted the HeartsBlood more.

Even Paul noticed the difference in the burn. “Wow, it doesn’t look nearly as bad as I thought. Must have been the crappy lighting down there.”

Dr. Limely nodded as she draped her stethoscope around her neck. “I’d knock it down to a second degree on his leg and first degrees on his side and arm.”

Which would soon be first degree, and then no degree burns. Sal was sure that they would have a new problem once his skin healed within the hour.

Limely was going to want to publish this case of spontaneously healing burns. Any other time, Sal would be happy to co-author such a paper, but now she’d have to figure out a way—

“Sal!” Richard called out.

Before she could stop him, her fiancé barreled into the room and pulled her into a hug. “I came as soon as I heard you were on the island.”

Paul raised his eyebrow as Sal put some distance between Richard and herself. “I’m fine.”

“We’ve got to get you—”

“I said, I’m fine.” Sal said loudly enough and sharply enough that the entire staff paused in their tasks to look up at the tension between the couple. “Let’s take this outside.”

She set a pace quickly enough that Richard had to trot to keep up. Sal stepped out of the automatic doors and into the cool San Francisco evening.

The horror of Alcatraz might be over, but there was one last casualty.

“Look, Richard, I’m sorry, but—”

He grabbed her shoulders. “Don’t say anything right now, Sal. I know I’ve been a smothering presence the last few days, and now rushing in like this, I can imagine—”

“Don’t,” she said as she pulled from his grasp. “Don’t try to ‘process’ your way out of this, Richard.”

“You have been through unimaginable—”

“Stop!”

Her fiancé’s lips snapped closed. She wasn’t sure whether she’d issued an edict, or her harsh tone alone had gotten the job done.

Sal softened and took his hand in hers. “We both know things haven’t been good for a long time…” Was she really going to speak the truth to him? It seemed almost cruel. But if Richard didn’t have her love, didn’t he at least deserve her honesty? “Even before the engagement.”

He tried to argue, but she gripped his hand. “You sensed it. It’s why you proposed, Richard.”

“I think… I know that…” He stammered.

“Please don’t stop me from saying what needs to be said.” Sal took a huge breath before she admitted something that she’d hidden—even from herself. It took her love blood to fail for her to come to terms with it. “You know I don’t love you the way you love me.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you. These things take time, and—”

“No. No, they don’t, Richard. They take an instant.”

Sal pulled the diamond off her finger and placed it in his palm. She didn’t realize how heavy that ring had felt. Even with the ring in his hand, he didn’t seem to comprehend her sincerity. “Give yourself overnight, or—”

“It’s over. Time won’t change my mind.”

“But—”

She closed his fingers over the ring. “I know you’ll need closure, and I owe it to you, but not now. Not tonight.”

Not waiting for an answer, she headed into the ER. The sliding doors whooshed shut behind her as she headed to Tyr.

This time, as she crossed through the triage area, Sal realized the magnitude of the injuries that resulted from Alcatraz. All the curtains were filled, and patients were lined up on gurneys along the halls, waiting to be admitted. She knew that most of them hadn’t encountered the beast, but the mob riot to get down to the docks had caused most of the suffering.

A left at the nurses’ station, and her first right brought her back to Trauma One. Exactly where she’d left Tyr, only he wasn’t here.

“Where’s Tyr?” she asked Paul, who was restocking a shelf.

“Who?”

“The patient?” Sal pointed to the blood-smeared sheets and IV antibiotics hanging above the bed. “The burn patient?”

The nurse looked at Limely, who shrugged as well. “We’re getting ready for a car accident on I-80.”

They all seemed to realize that something was wrong, but couldn’t vocalize it.

A classic “forget” edict.

Sal might have been worried, but since Tyr couldn’t get back to his own time, she knew right where he’d gone.

CHAPTER 110

Sal entered her darkened apartment, already aware that Tyr was present. He stood silhouetted in the window, watching the City beneath him. She swallowed hard as he turned, uncertain of her reception.

“Thanks be to you,” he whispered as he opened his arms, inviting her into his embrace.

She rushed forward, burying herself in his arms. Tyr’s hug was fierce. If it weren’t for him bracing his right side, she’d never have felt even a hint of the injuries that had brought him close to death just an hour ago.

Instead, Tyr lived and made her world perfect.

But then reality reared its unwanted head. He parted their bodies and looked into her eyes. “The beast?”

Sal couldn’t keep eye contact. “He’s badly injured, but I’m pretty sure he made it back to your time.”

“Forward,” Tyr stated absently, his gaze wandering off.

“I’m sorry?”

He strode off, pacing in front of the window. “He used the blood to move forward along the time continuum to our home.”

Shaking her head, Sal backed away. “No. The way you dress? And speak? You came from our past.”

“This is the States of the Americas, is it not?” He paused in his pacing to look at her. She hesitated before she nodded, but he plowed on, “You use Anno Domini for your calendar?”

“AD, yes. This year is two thousand eleven.”

Tyr gave a curt nod, then began his pacing again. “As mine is thirty one seventeen.”

Sal sat down hard, glad that her couch was overstuffed. Every assumption she had made was based on the fact that Tyr and the beast arose long ago, before scientific process had been established.

“That doesn’t make any sense. If you are from…” why was it harder to say he was from the future than the past? Was it any more absurd to her ear? “… further down the timeline, why don’t you understand the science of essence and intent?”

His voice was distant, as if he was only devoting a very small portion of his brain to answering her question. The rest seemed occupied with something far more important.

“The Knowing began near to this decade.”

“The Knowing?” she asked.

“Of essence. Intent. The Knowing of blood and its uses.”

Tyr put his hand to the hilt of his knife. If she’d had any fantasy that he would be thrilled at being stuck in this time, and stuck with her, it was dashed as his knuckles tensed and released. Tensed and released with each step. He itched for a battle. Instead, he was left to explain a history that she could barely believe.

“But the scholars held the Knowing tightly. I doubt it would have spread during your life span…”

She waited for him to continue, but his jaw worked and worked, yet produced no words. “So sometime in the early twenty-first century, what happened?”

Tyr seemed to realize that she was still in the room. “Oh, the beginning of the Age of Descent.”

Sal could imagine that. Look at the popularity of the Secret. Give them Praxis? People, eager for personal power, dabbling in quantum magic. Look how much damage she had caused by sheer accident and under Tyr’s watchful eye. Without him, Sal feared what she might have become.

“Something stopped us from killing ourselves off,” she prompted.

“Centuries of the Harrowing followed. Those that spurned the Knowing fought against those tainted. All that you know…” Tyr pointed toward the Golden Gate in the far distance. “That bridge with the many pictures your peddlers sell will be no more. The battle raged across all continents—until the last traces of the blasphemous science were eradicated.”

Sal couldn’t stand the thought of San Francisco being leveled to ash. It couldn’t be true. “You’ve got to be mistaken. You’re confused.”

At this, Tyr turned to her. “With the beasts routed and their science scattered to the wind, dead bloods fell upon their swords to usher in the Age of Grace.”

“That’s not my definition of grace.”

Tyr shrugged and went back to his pacing. “Nevertheless, the Peace has been kept for over five hundred years. The only remnant of your time allowed to persist is a witch’s hex put upon children to prevent foundering.”

“Foundering?” Sal asked.

In response, Tyr pulled up his sleeve. She rose to inspect his arm. Over his bulging bicep was the telltale mark of a polio vaccine. Sal traced the divot in his flesh. Here lay proof of his words.

Tyr did not come from before her, but after.

CHAPTER 111

Sal didn’t realize she was about to swoon until Tyr’s strong arms were around her waist, holding her up. His attention didn’t seem split any longer.

He cared only for her welfare.

“Does such a thing matter between us?” Tyr asked.

One hand moved up her back while the other wandered south. He used his grip to pull them together. Her breasts were crushed against his firm pectorals.

Hips locked together, Sal found her brain might be fuzzy, but her body’s response was razor sharp. It wanted him. Screw what time he came from. Leaning in, Tyr’s lips found hers, but she resisted.

“Yes, it does,” Sal found herself voicing the truth. Something felt wrong, but she couldn’t verbalize beyond that.

“Why?” he asked in a whisper against her neck as his lips found the hollow along her collarbone. “I am here now.”

That he was.

“Locked forever…” Tyr kissed up to her earlobe. “With you.”

Sal’s knees buckled, but she didn’t drop an inch, his grip was so strong. Whatever foreboding she had evaporated under his touch. She didn’t resist when his lips sought hers again. If the kiss down in the underground passage had been the best of her life, this moment transcended time and space.

Desire was no longer an abstract term, but a verb. Their every movement drove her body to higher and higher anticipation. Somewhere deep in her unconscious, Sal had wanted this to happen since she saw him in that lightning flash. She needed to know what his embrace felt like. What emotions his kiss would release. How making love to him would change her life forever.

Fully healed, Tyr’s strength encircled her. As his hand traced the outline of her breast, she moaned. Her hand snaked down his stomach, feeling each ridge of his muscular abdomen, angling for his belt buckle, when his hand caught hers, holding it, stopping her from loosening it.

At first Sal thought it a game, until Tyr jerked her hand away from his waist and took a step back.

“I’m sorry. I cannot.”

From the flush to his cheeks and the firmness she’d felt in his pants, he very well could. Couldn’t he hear the siren’s song? The beat of the jungle in their pulse? This was meant to be. She took a step toward him, but he backed another.

“It is not allowed.” Catching his breath, Tyr clenched his jaw. “I am dead blood.”

“No, you’re not,” Sal said, hoping for exactly the reaction she got. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized her, but he didn’t move back when she closed the gap between them. “Dead bloods don’t exist yet. This is your past, remember?”

He blinked several times, trying to take in the fact, much as she’d struggled to process his information.

“Whatever rules you think you must obey don’t apply, because they haven’t been written yet.”

“But—”

Sal put a finger to his lips. “There are no buts. Your only compass is here,” she said as she pointed to his heart. “It alone decides your fate.”

Tyr’s eyes clouded over as he clasped her hand. “I have not… not since…”

She kissed his hand, feeling at peace and trying to share it. “I know, but even that hasn’t happened yet. There’s nothing shameful about how we feel… or what we do about it.”

Without another word, Tyr’s arms swept her up and carried her into the bedroom.

CHAPTER 112

As Tyr laid Sal gently on her crocheted bedspread, she realized he was the first man she’d ever allowed into her room. Ever allowed to make love to her in her inner sanctum. She would never risk a man hurting her here. Never open up to a man in that way in a place where she had to live.

Normally, she’d be worried if the tiny room had too much clutter or if she’d changed the sheets this week, but with his hands roaming up and down her body, none of that mattered.

The only thing that mattered was his unzipping her dress and pulling it over her head. His rough hands ran over her bare skin. He lay to the side of her, trailing his finger down her sternum to her bra, but then went past the garment and stroked her belly.

Under any other circumstance, Sal would have felt self-conscious, but the touch felt glorious, sending shivers across her flesh. She was eager to have his hands range further, deeper.

Her hand went to the bra’s front clasp, but Tyr urged her hand away, forcing it down to the bedspread. There was nothing uncaring about the gesture, but it gave her pause. His firm grip had been more than a little thrilling, yet Sal found herself resenting the action.

Tyr’s lips followed his finger’s path down her chest. She arched, raising her breasts to his mouth, but still he didn’t take them.

As he kissed his way down to her belly, her hand found its way to her bra again. She wanted her nipples exposed. She wanted him to nuzzle them. To feel that stubble against her tender skin was destined to be an eighth wonder of the world.

But his hand stopped her again. Tyr leaned his body weight into her, even more forcibly gripping her.

“Yield,” he whispered.

She did, but haltingly, uncertain how to react. Was he rejecting her?

Then his hand hovered just over her breast. Close enough so she could feel the heat of his palm despite the air between them. He stroked the air with his thumb, and even though they weren’t in physical contact, her nipple hardened so tightly, it almost hurt. But not quite.

Tyr nuzzled her neck, stroking the skin with his coarse stubble. Her hand rubbed up his back, finding his hair, running her fingers through it. He moaned deeply, rumbling his desire against her flesh.

Sal clutched her fingers in his thick black hair, aiming his head down to her chest, but he balked.

“Yield,” he murmured, taking his hand away from her breast.

She didn’t understand what he wanted from her. “But—”

He kissed her lips, hard. Sal resisted until his hand was over her chest again. Her body arched on its own. Her mouth opening, allowing his tongue to probe hers.

Sal didn’t understand his intent, but she didn’t want that kiss to ever end, so she dropped the hand that he found so offensive away from his head.

It landed with a dull thump on the bed.

Tyr pulled away, that smile playing at his lips. “Yield, not die.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. Even his crow’s-feet crinkled in humor.

He kissed her much more lightly, then his eyes sharpened. “Do men of this time have no prowess?”

There was an argument to be made somewhere in there, but for the life of her, Sal couldn’t think of it. Men probably did have prowess, but had she ever let them show it?

CHAPTER 113

If Sal were being honest, with any other man her bra would have been off, and if she was being completely frank, she’d be in control of the situation and on to their second position by now.

Tyr moved her hand back to his head, nuzzling against her. “Salista, your touch is freedom given form… your direction is unto shackles.”

His words stung, mainly because they were true.

Had she ever let a man lead, really lead?

Slowly, she ran her fingers through his hair again. Only this time with no goal or hidden agenda. Only for pleasure, both of theirs. Tyr murmured appreciation as he raked his stubble across her neck. His hand found the clasp of her bra and popped it open. She gasped, but wasn’t sure which maneuver she was responding to. They both moistened her panties.

Tyr cupped her breast, kneading it gently, his thumb stroking her nipple. Her hand flew up to his arm, digging her nails into his flesh, encouraging him to quicken the motion.

“Yield,” his husky voice demanded.

This time she didn’t drop her arm, but released only her nails. As a reward, his thumb circled her nipple faster and faster.

Desire this enflamed had to be vented. How could she respond to his ministrations without guiding? Sal let her nails barely bite into his arm, then raked them down the curve of his bicep. She didn’t want any specific outcome from her action other than giving him one-tenth of the pleasure she felt. While Sal might have worried over his response, Tyr just groaned the deeper she dug.

Finally, his lips found their way down her chest to nuzzle her breast.

If the stubble had caused waves of almost painful pleasure on her neck, against her smooth breast, Sal’s toes curled as he brushed his chin hair across her nipple. It should have hurt, yet she found herself wanting only more.

Each time Tyr ventured near the point pleasure flirted with pain, he’d subside. He started from the outside again, working his way unerringly back to the dark target of her nipple.

Risking another “yield,” Sal slipped her hand to his chest, finding the buttons of his shirt. Surprising her again, with the first button she unfastened, Tyr took her nipple into his warm mouth, licking and sucking in ever increasing waves of yearning.

Once the shirt was unbuttoned, together they ripped it off his biceps, flinging it far from the bed. Her hand went to his belt, but just the look in his eyes told her to yield. Relaxing her grip, Sal allowed Tyr to place her hand where he wished it.

With purpose, he cupped her hand around her breast. She was confused until he took her nipple in his mouth again, nuzzling it, forcing her to hold her breast as she had never held herself before. Suddenly, Sal realized if she squeezed at exactly the moment Tyr nuzzled, she could elicit a whole new level of pleasure. Her compliance had an added benefit, it freed his other hand to roam south.

CHAPTER 114

Tyr’s tongue never stopped working as he tugged off her panties. How Sal wished she’d put on a sexy thong this morning, but the garment was gone so quickly it wouldn’t have mattered.

Her naked leg snaked up his thigh. The leather felt so good against her skin that she was glad he’d kept his pants on. Tyr’s arm wrapped under her waist, pulling her tight against his excitement. If it weren’t for the leather, they would have consummated already.

Between his lips, his tongue, and those hips of his, Sal was so ready. He must have thought so as well as he gave a final kiss to the taut nipple, then withdrew, standing at the foot of the bed.

His gaze studied her every feature. Sal found herself squirming under his inspection. She tried to roll onto her side, playing coy, avoiding his scrutiny.

“Yield.”

She hated him intensely and loved him immensely. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes. Sal lay down on her back, placing her hands over her head, hiding nothing.

When she opened them again, he stood before her naked. He didn’t flinch as she took the magnificent sight in. His physique was simple perfection. Those rippling muscles weren’t sculpted by an artificial gym workout, but by fighting off true monsters. And if she’d had any doubts of his ability to satisfy her, Sal had none now.

As he slowly, sensually climbed onto the bed then over her, she breathed him in. Wanted him in every sense of the word. Sal spread her legs, crooking one over his hip, urging him onward.

“Yield,” he growled.

Exasperated, “I couldn’t be yielding any more than this!”

His hand toyed with her nipple as he kissed the tender flesh behind her ear. “Not until you blossom.”

“What do you mean bloss—” Then Sal understood his meaning. “No. I’m ready now.”

But that smile just played across his lips. His hand found hers and urged it down. This was more like it. She reached for his excitement, but he rumbled, “Yield.”

Tyr placed her hand over her own excitement. Sal hesitated to explore herself, but he rubbed up against her, giving her just a taste of the satisfaction awaiting her.

Why was she holding back? It wasn’t like she’d never pleasured herself before, but with a man? Why would she? Wasn’t that what he was for?

Now she was supposed to do so under Tyr and his never-wavering gaze? He was going to watch every last second.

But Sal also knew that he wasn’t going to relent. Tyr and his damned prowess. It made her feel so exposed, so vulnerable.

Surprisingly, as her body felt immersed in passion, she was finding out that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Tentatively, her finger found the spot. Sal began coaxing it as Tyr turned his lips’ attention back to her breasts. She felt herself stiffen, her breaths more and more rapid. How quickly she was almost there, then Tyr’s hand found her hips.

While he moved them in rhythm to her touch, Sal felt out of control, and the moment was lost.

Frustrated, Sal let her hand fall away.

“Yield,” he murmured, still bringing her hips to bear, bringing himself so close she could imagine him inside of her. “Yield.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” she hissed.

Tyr simply put her hand back into position and made her hips rise and fall again. “Yield.”

With him over her, his lips against her skin, what else could she do but try? It felt awkward at first, but then Sal found her body responding to his help, using it, building from it.

In a flash, she realized the command didn’t mean stop or even give up control. It was more like the traffic sign. You could go, but if someone else had the right of way, you deferred to them.

There was no one she more wanted to defer to than Tyr.

Sal plunged herself into the feeling of his touch, in her own touch.

Passion whipped around them, driving her into a near frenzy.

Then she was on the edge, on that sweet, biting precipice.

“Yield,” he whispered, and Sal did.

She felt the explosion under her finger, then it coursed through her body, arching her spine, throwing her head back, releasing an excited gasp.

At the exact moment of the wave crashing, Tyr consummated their bond.

CHAPTER 115

Tyr’s entrance brought another wave. Only this time, it was tidal in force. Somehow, as the intense pleasure washed over her like surf, Sal kept rhythm with Tyr. Together they filled her with him, until he was so aroused that it must have hurt.

Taking care to give him the right of way, Sal encouraged his excitement. She felt satisfaction in his every groan, but realized it was he who was now holding back. His clenched jaw told her this had become no pleasure, but duty. A duty to continue.

Did he think she would be disappointed if he allowed himself release?

Well, it was a duty she had never given him.

She brought her lips to his ear. “Yield.”

Tyr shook his head, bringing her hips to his as he thrust, determined to pleasure her longer. Not that it didn’t feel exhilarating. Not that she couldn’t have enjoyed it for hours, but it wasn’t right. It wasn’t for them, it was only for her.

“Yield,” she whispered.

He declined again, but this time she could see his lips tremble. His hand shaky under her hip.

“Yield,” she invited.

His chest moved in fits and starts. His thrusts more passion than precision.

“Yield,” she insisted.

Sal arched with Tyr as he yielded in a burst that took her as much by storm as him. They rode the fierce gale out together. As one.

When the calm finally came, both were spent. With care, Tyr egressed, but it must have used the last of his energy, as he practically fell back to the bed.

Sal wasn’t sure what she expected after their lovemaking, but him spooning her certainly hadn’t been her first guess. However, this spoon was like none other. It wasn’t meant to comfort, but to conjoin.

Tyr’s arm slid under the crook of her neck. He found her hand, entwining their fingers together. His other arm draped across her hip, with his hand caressing her breast. Their legs were so tangled that Sal wasn’t sure which were her limbs, or his. Tyr’s thumb absently kept her nipple awake as he tenderly kissed her shoulder.

Sal basked in his touch, his presence, and his love, knowing that somewhere above, Maria was smiling down upon her.

CHAPTER 116

Sal held onto the cable car handle, letting the wind tousle her hair in the early morning breeze. Her other hand held a small bag of toiletries, male toiletries, that she’d picked up on her way to work. Not that she didn’t love Tyr’s scent, on him and all over her, but at some point he was going to want to take a shower, and her strawberry/kiwi conditioner wasn’t going to cut it. And her powder-fresh deodorant wouldn’t do, either.

As the cable car squealed to a halt in front of the hospital, Sal waved to the driver and trotted up to the ambulance bay. If she weren’t so sore from their “yielding” all night, she might have broken out into a skip, because that’s how joyful she felt.

She’d seen women in this state before. Sal had always made fun of it, calling it a hormonal haze, but now that she was affected, she’d characterize it as a love cocoon. Nothing could penetrate her happiness.

Certainly not work. Today, she was going to find humor in the tourist-related injuries—bites after trying to pet the sea lions, spraining a hamstring trying to hike the length of the Golden Gate, and the stomachaches after trying authentic Chinese food, only to realize that when they said chicken’s feet, they meant chicken’s feet.

Not even Manning was going to get under her skin.

Sal strode through the sliding doors. “Good morning, everyone!”

A variety of humored responses followed, but Paul cocked his head.

“How are you feeling?”

“Great. Really great.”

The nurse looked her up and down. “Well, you look great. Get a new body wash?”

Sal chuckled. If he only knew. “Let’s get these rounds going.”

Paul indicated the residents’ room. “I have no idea what’s going on, but Manning’s holed up in there.”

Swinging her bag of Tyr’s toiletries playfully as she walked toward the office, Sal put her resolve to the test. Whatever stunt Stacy was trying to pull, she refused to rise to it.

Opening the door to the office, Sal found Manning macking on some guy. They were really going at it. His hands were all over her.

Looking away before the sight was indelibly etched in her mind, Sal exclaimed, “Get a room… only not this one.”

Sal tossed her stuff down on the desk as Stacy turned, her lipstick smeared like a little girl who had stolen her mom’s for the first time. “Give us a minute.”

“Looks like that’s as long as it would last,” she snorted. Manning might be reduced to breakroom quickies, but Sal had the real thing.

Then Stacy backed away, and the man, who had Manning’s lipstick smeared all over his face, stepped into the light.

Sal felt her knees weaken. She knew that leather coat. That white shirt. Those blue, blue, blue eyes.

“Tyr?” she asked, not realizing that she’d actually spoken her fear.

“You two know each other?” Stacey asked.

“Leave,” Tyr said, then over Manning’s objection, he barked, “Leave!”

Clearly distressed that she wasn’t in control of her actions, Stacy rushed out, slamming the door behind her.

Sal searched Tyr’s features for any clue, any clue at all as to why he’d done this. “What… How… Why…?”

But then in a single motion, Tyr explained everything. Pulling his knife from his sheath, he extended his hand. “May I?”

Oh God, no. Oh God, no. Oh God, no, was all Sal could think as she slumped against the wall.

He needed her blood, just like the beast had needed the statue’s heartbroken blood, to go home.

Without resistance—What else could she really do?—Sal put her wrist in his hand. His features blurred as tears flowed down her cheeks, but would she really have found anything helpful in them?

He hadn’t made love to her. He’d meticulously primed her for this specific use. He’d manipulated her to be his ticket home.

At the exact moment she truly realized the depth of the deception, her heart shattered into a thousand pieces, and the man who’d broken it cut her wrist.

The pain of the blade eclipsed all of the other injuries she’d sustained. Those precious heartbroken drops of blood stung as they fell from her wrist into his vial.

Sobbing, Sal didn’t even know how her blood kept flowing, because it felt that the chambers of her heart had shriveled and died, nothing more than muscle flailing with no purpose.

After capping the vial, Tyr went to bind her wrist.

Why bother? Sal jerked her hand back. “Get away from me.”

“Salista, please—”

“Don’t ever call me that,” she managed to squeak out, before descending back into sobs.

Tyr grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to face him. His grip was so strong, and she was so weak. Her angst so great that her body vacillated between wanting to faint and vomit. But she refused to give him the satisfaction of either.

She looked up into those crystalline blue eyes. “What could you possibly say after you…”

“I hunt beasts. I kill beasts,” Tyr stated.

Sal stifled a sob, repeating his earlier words. “To expect more of a dead blood is folly.”

“Think on it, Sa—” He stopped himself before saying her name. “What prowess would I have after a single week? I sit idle when you spend your days honing your skills at witchery?” Tyr tightened his grip on her shoulders. “All the while knowing the beast has been unleashed upon my world, wreaking havoc with the alchemy he acquired? That I allowed him to acquire?”

No matter his urging, Sal couldn’t look at him. “We could—”

“What? What could we do while I heard the screams of my people, my brethren, echo down through the ages? Blaming me in my failure? I am dead blood. Please do not ask me to be other.”

How could she argue? Their love didn’t negate the beast’s threat. No matter how much she wished it. Tears flowed again as she realized Tyr must leave.

“Will we even see each other again?”

That faint smile played across his face. “We are bound, are we not?”

When Tyr leaned in, she didn’t resist his lips. Their tears moistened the kiss. Sal would have thought she’d want the kiss to last forever, but it became too painful. Too painful to imagine life going on without him.

Then the kiss ended. When she opened her eyes, Tyr had gone. Gone home, leaving her behind.

He hadn’t even gifted her with a forget edict.

She was left to remember it all.

BLOOD TIES – The Bridge Short between HeartsBlood & DeadBlood

CHAPTER 1

Tyr fell to his knees shaken and disoriented. His vision was still filled with an angry red and his ears rung from roar of a displeased time as he flew through it. No muscle obeyed him as he listed forward, but he refused to fall onto his face.

He was DeadBlood.

Gathering all of his strength, Tyr balled his hands into fists, planted them on the ground, and shoved himself up. He swayed a bit but stayed on his feet. His eyes refocused on the forest surrounding him. Birds didn’t chirp, they seemed too scared for that. Instead they fluttered from branch to branch above him, shaking the trees, loosening the branches. It looked like it was raining leaves.

Tyr spun, trying to tell where the sun was overhead. When he’d opened the time portal, it had been nighttime. Yet here it was as bright as day. Due to the lack of shadows, Tyr guessed the sun was directly overhead. Mid-day, perhaps.

He looked to the moss on the trees. While lush, it was starting to dry out. The earth under his feet was solid and dry. It seemed the season was the same. Summer.

It took a few breaths for Tyr to realize, really realize, that he was home. There were no loud motors. No honking horns. No crush of people. He had left Salista’s world and returned to his own.

Just the thought of her name, heavied his heart. When she had found him with that obnoxious blond, Tyr could have sworn that he heard Salista’s heart break in two. It certainly showed on her face. There was so much that he wanted to tell her. That if he had been LiveBlood, he could have taken his own blood to travel forward in time.

But he was DeadBlood, and he did as any DeadBlood should, he simply completed his task.

Well, completed the first step in his task. He was home, but what year? Was he near the beast or had he been thrown continents away?

If he had returned to the exact moment he left, Dyn should be nearby.

“Dyn!” he shouted walking to the west. “Dyn!”

“Tyr!” a cry came from his left. He spun around and trotted in that direction. He would have liked to run, but his vision was still bobbing and his legs were like lead.

Dyn came forward, leading both of their horses. “How did you get here?” He asked. “You just went through the portal over there.”

“So no time has passed since I left?” Tyr queried.

“Nay,” Dyn said, with a frown upon his lips.

“Did you see the beast then?” Tyr asked.

Dyn shook his head. “There was a loud boom and the earth shook so I sought shelter. I did not see anything and the horses were so spooked that they did not give off a warning either.”

Had the beast come back here or was his blood magic sophisticated enough that he was able to land elsewhere at some other time?

“We must strike out,” Tyr said, putting his foot into Hunter’s stirrup.

Dyn grabbed his arm though, “Tyr, speak to me, what happened?”

That was the last thing that Tyr wanted to do. He’d had enough of Salista’s world and the pain it had caused, but there were some things his thane did need to know.

“The beast traveled back to steal information from a warlock who has made a substance that mimics intent blood.”

Dyn stepped back, dropping his hold on Tyr’s arm. “That cannot be.”

“It is very real, Dyn. I have seen it,” Tyr confirmed.

Dyn shook his head, as if he could not accept the news into his mind. “If that were true then… then…”

“The beast would have no limitations. He would have an endless supply of magic,” Tyr added.

“There would be no stopping him and his ilk,” Dyn mumbled.

“Which is why we must away.”

Dyn, though, did not mount. His sense of wonder seemed to return. “Tell me, Tyr, how was the Gilded Age?”

Tyr snorted. No one who had actually been back in time would call it the “Gilded” anything.

“It was loud and crowded,” Tyr stated. “And the people had so little respect for themselves and each other.”

Dyn’s lips turned downward. “There was no salvation to the time?”

Of course there was, but Tyr did not wish to speak of her, so he simply shook his head and mounted Hunter. “If the Beast has the tools to engineer the substance, we will have scant days to destroy him and his pride before he grows too strong to overcome.”

This time Dyn nodded, mounting his mare and spurring her on. There was no need to discuss where they went from here. With no other knowledge of where the beast may have landed, their only recourse was to follow the trail of the remaining pack, and hope that they reconvened with their master.

Dyn slowed the pace and leaned over in his saddle. Leather creaked as his mare pawed at the ground. She was eager to reengage the fight. Dyn had a fine mount indeed. Even Hunter was content to nibble on some grass along the path.

Shortly after they continued deeper into the forest until they came upon a ridge. The whole of the forest lay out before them, broken only by ruins. One of the Golden Gate Bridge’s struts poked upward to the sky. Salista would be devastated to see her city so. Although, in truth, Tyr preferred it this way. There was a small port town near the water for fishermen and traders.

“The trail leads east,” Dyn stated, nodding his head toward the flat plains the rolled away from the seaport.

That was best. If they had to descend down into the ruins it would only stir up feelings that Tyr did not wish stirred.

“Then east it is.”

They followed the trail all through the afternoon and into the evening, until the light became so wan that not even the horses could find their way. It was a new moon, allowing an all-encompassing darkness to spread, making even the most benign oak tree seem sinister.

“We will need to make camp soon,” Dyn said as his mare tripped over a fallen branch.

While Tyr wished to press on, how could they? Especially with an unknown number of beasts in the area? They had thinned the pride that followed with his brother.

Tyr stopped himself. He had never thought of the beast as anything but a beast. At least until the prison when the beast revealed himself to Salista. She seemed to act like he should be more upset by the fact he and the beast were related.

But why should he be? The moment that Tyr had been discovered to be a DeadBlood, he had been removed from his mother’s arms and given to Dyn. Tyr had not known his mother or father. Although, there were times when he thought he remembered the smell of lilac and his mother’s chestnut hair. Was that a real memory or had Dyn at some point treated him with lilac for an illness? Tyr would never know.

And his older brother? Tyr had no memory of him whatsoever. He did not even know that the beast they tracked was his brother until a dark night, not unlike this one, when the two had wrestled. That was years ago, back when his brother still held human form, mostly. Only then did Dyn recognize the beast to be Tyr’s brother, Vitalis.

Vitalis certainly seemed to remember Tyr and hated him for his very birth. Not that Tyr could blame him. Having a DeadBlood born into a family line, killed that line. No one was allowed to marry nor bear children.

Just a teenager, upon Tyr’s birth, Vitalis’ life had been shattered beyond recognition. Not only was his arranged marriage cancelled, Vitalis was not allowed to marry at all, and could never have children. He would never see the throne either. Tyr’s father was allowed to sit on his throne until his death, but upon his passing, the richest of the nobles, with no DeadBloods in their lineage would ascend as the steward of the kingdom.

If the noble kept the land in prosperity for a decade, he would be named king. If he did not keep the land prosperous, then another noble could challenge him for the stewardship.

Tyr did not even know if the first steward of his father’s land had been crowned king or not. What did it matter to Tyr?

It certainly did not matter to Vitalis. He had descended fully into a beast. He would rule no one unless he was able to duplicate the warlock’s potion. Then the beast would rule far more than he should.

“Look, there,” Dyn said, pointing to a parchment that had been nailed to a tree. The warning looked to be written in blood.

“No DeadBloods may enter this realm on threat of beheading.”

While most LiveBloods were wary of DeadBloods, it was rare for them to be so openly opposed to them.

“Tyr,” Dyn said, lowering his head deep within his cloak’s hood. “I am so sorry.”

Why would Dyn say that? Should his thane not be equally upset by the slur and threat? Then it hit Tyr. They had ridden a half a day northeast of the Franciscan coast.

This was Lainli’s realm. The dukedom of Ellismayberry. No wonder they posted a warning such as this. Tyr swayed in the saddle but somehow stayed mounted.

The shame crashed over him again in wave after wave. He had broken his vows, broken the law, and the sweet, sweet Lainli had paid the price. Tyr would have said that he had killed the only woman he’d ever loved, but now that was not true. Doubly shamed he was.

“The beast is clever. He probably headed here knowing the edict of the Duke.”

Tyr nodded. It sounded like the beast.

“We must follow the pride though,” Dyn said, not realizing the pain Tyr was in, nor sensing it all too accurately and trying to divert him from it. “I can ride ahead and warn the Duchy of the pride’s and ours presence on their lands.”

Dyn’s words helped pull Tyr back into the present. He shook his head. “With the pride on the prowl, we cannot afford to split up. This all still may be a trap.”

The last trap and scar along his side was still fresh in Tyr’s mind. His brother, the beast, had kept more of his human cunning than most after their descent.

“I agree but do not wish to put you through what awaits at the castle Ellismayberry.”

Tyr did not look forward to it either, but what must be done, must be done.

They were DeadBlood. If walking back into their failure was asked of them, they could not deny the call.

“We will rest here tonight,” Dyn said, “then strike for the castle at first light. From there, we will find the beast’s trail again.”

Tyr nodded, knowing that it was more than likely that they would both be killed at the castle. Oath-breaking was punishable by death. He was shocked they had made it out of the realm the first time.

It was only with Dyn’s clever mind and honeyed tongue they had survived. That, and a late night escape through the sewer pipes. Tyr had a well-built set of aqueducts to thank for his life.

The decision made, quickly they dismounted and set up camp. There wasn’t much to set up though. They would have no fire. They could not trust that the light would not give away their position. It was tough venison jerky and dried potatoes for dinner tonight.

They staked the horses in a meadow with a creek. They would take of themselves tonight.

“I will take first watch,” Dyn said. Tyr went to argue, but Dyn shook his head. “Nay, you have traveled through time and back, I will brook no argument.”

Tyr was tired to his bone so he did not argue further.

Although sleep seemed far away. His body was exhausted, but his mind was racing. So much had happened in such a short time frame. It still had not sunk in that he had successfully traveled, not just back in time, but forward as well. And for what? All of his life he’d had a clear purpose, now though so many questions swirled in his mind.

Where was the beast? Was Salista missing him? Could he ever return to her and her land?

He unrolled his leather bed roll and laid down on his back. The ground was still warm from the summer’s sun. Tyr closed his eyes.

The picture of Salista, tears rolling down her cheeks, filled his mind.

If that was any indication, then it was going to be a long, long, long night for Tyr.

CHAPTER 2

Tyr could feel each and every stick and rock poking his back. He was surprised to find that he must have slept some, since he was now awakening. Even more surprising was the early morning light filtering through the trees.

He propped himself up on one elbow to find that the camp had been packed already, and Hunter saddled beside Dyn’s mare.

“Ah, you have awakened.”

“You did not get me up for the second watch,” Tyr grumbled as he got himself up.

“Nay, but I think you slept less than I did with all of that tossing and turning.”

Tyr’s body did feel like it had been taken by the surf and beaten into the sand, for hours. “It shall be enough.”

Dyn smiled. “As it always is. Are you ready?”

Tyr nodded. He could let water at the next stop. For now he just wanted to get to the castle and discover his fate.

He mounted Hunter and the stallion followed the mare as they crossed into the Duchy. The castle wasn’t far, maybe a few hours ride. Tyr’s stomach grumbled so he dug around one of his saddlebags and grabbed a piece of hard bread. He was pretty sure it was meant for Hunter, but he did not care as he took a bite and chewed the thick food.

The sun crossed overhead as they rode deeper and deeper into the Duchy. The land became rolling hills and vineyards. The realm was known for its sparkling wines. They were one of the richest in the kingdoms for it.

Dyn leaned over in his saddle and plucked a few grapes, popping them into his mouth.

“That is a hanging offense,” Tyr warned him.

“Ah, I am already under a death penalty, why not enjoy a few illicit bites along the way?”

That was his thane. Always riding the edge of propriety.

If he were not so charming, he would have been beheaded a dozen times over.

Tyr thought Salista would like Dyn. But that was a foolish thought. In his timeline, Salista was long since dead. Centuries dead. Never to see the Harrowing. Never to see his land and his thane.

Yet he could still feel her touch on his cheek, her quick smile, and the even quicker frown when he disappointed her. How he wished he could see that look just one more time.

But were these not the type of thoughts that had doomed Lainli? Salista might question the laws of the DeadBloods, but he could not. A vivacious, beautiful young girl had paid the price the last time he had.

He must armor himself against such feelings. He must forget that the beast was his older brother.

His only thoughts should be killing the beasts and destroying the secret he carried from the past. His only thoughts.

Dyn sighed. “There,” he said pointing at a group of four riders heading in their direction. Clearly they were the Duke’s guards. They had on silver-plated armor with the lattice and grape crest of the Duchy on their breastplates. They also rode with the banner of royal purple and gold.

Dust kicked up along their trail. It was a dry summer this year. Would the vines make it through the blaze of the sun?

The foursome pulled to a halt right in front of Dyn and Tyr.

“Did you not read the warnings, old man?” The leader of the group sneered.

“I will not waste breath with you,” Dyn stated. “The Duke must be informed that a pride of several beasts has entered his lands.”

While the guard was all pomp and circumstance, arrogant in his role, Tyr noted that his eyes dilated at the news. “Pride? An entire pride of beasts?” the guard said with a gulp.

“By my sights, a large pride. The largest in history perhaps,” Dyn explained. “So I suggest that you take us to your Duke, or try to slit our throats here.”

The man clearly wished to do neither, but in the end, turned his foursome of guards to the east and led them to the castle.

Where either the Duke would see reason or Tyr would part with his head.

* * *

The ride to the castle wasn’t long. The stone walls were draped with grapevines and large purple grapes punctuated the green. How beautiful Tyr had thought the castle was the first time he’d been there. Now the scene held only dread.

The four guards had been augmented with another dozen or so, all of them with their swords drawn. Dyn and Tyr dismounted, handing over their visible weapons. What else could they do? It was better to take their chances with the Duke than to be slaughtered here by common soldiers.

They climbed the long, sweeping staircase up to the second floor entrance to the castle. The Duke’s throne room was situated so that he could look out over his acres and acres of vineyards, with their bright yellow mustard growing along the rows. Therefore, the room was open-aired. No windows. No curtains, just a large open entry.

Again, Tyr had been impressed his first visit. Most castles were enclosed and fortified, which was usually the point of a castle, but Ellismayberry had never been attacked. The Duke kept on good terms with all of his neighboring realms by keeping the wine flowing to those districts. He had a buffer of at least three Duchies deep to keep him safe so that his throne room could be open-aired.

Tyr had to hope that the Duke’s disdain of bloodshed continued today. Dyn and Tyr entered to find the room packed with nobles. Apparently news had spread that Tyr had been “captured.”

The Duke sat up on his throne made of grapevines, a scowl on his normally handsome face. The Duchess sat next to him in a gown of flowing purple. She too glared as he entered the room.

“What do you have to say for yourselves before I cast judgment upon thee?” the Duke bellowed.

Dyn grinned though. “My Lord, I ask only that you cast the same judgment upon thine self.”

The Duke’s frown deepened. “Do not toy with me. Your protégé broke his oath and killed my daughter.”

“That is not exactly the entire story is it, my lord?” Dyn said bowing his head. “Would you not like to discuss this in a more private setting?”

The Duke’s eyes slid back and forth. It was clear that he was rethinking having the Duchy in attendance. “What needs to be said can be said here.”

Dyn shrugged. “Yes, Tyr and your daughter were in love and he seeded her womb.”

The crowd gasped. It was seldom such frank words were spoken in polite society, however there was nothing polite about being beheaded.

The Duke sprang to his feet. “How dare you?”

“I dare because our lives and all of your lives are at stake. You have a pride of six to twelve beasts in your lands.” Again the crowd gasped and a few of the ladies swooned into their gentleman’s arms. But that did not stop Dyn. “We must be freed and given support, or your land is lost, perhaps the entire world.”

The Duchess rose. “My daughter’s death must be avenged.”

“Then you, Lady, should look in the mirror,” Dyn countered. “I begged to be the one to do the procedure. I begged at your feet and you denied me. So look in the mirror when you seek retribution.”

The Duchess stumbled back a step and sat down again, crossing her hands on her lap. That was the power of Dyn. He could be as sweet as honey yet sting as quickly as a bee.

The Duke stood firm, though, at the edge of his dais, his hands clenched in fists.

Dyn’s tone softened. “Tyr is under a death decree every day, sire. Why not send him out to fight the beast? More than likely he will die, but at least die while defending your subjects and yourself. Far better than letting his head roll around here while there is a pride of beasts on your lands.”

Tyr watched as the Duke seemed to waiver.

“Condemn him to fight the beast, my lord,” Dyn said, bowing his head again. “I beg you.”

The captain of the guard with his purple crested helmet stepped forward. “We can fight the beast without him, Duke.”

The Duke snorted. “Said bravely by a man who has never faced a beast.”

The tension seemed to blow out of the room as a gentle breeze played amongst their feet. The Duke sat back onto his throne. “A reprieve then, from the executioner’s blade, but only if you fight the beast and live.”

Tyr bowed his head as well. “Of course, sire.”

Dyn stepped forward, back to business now that the whole beheading issue was resolved. “We will need several dozen men, all volunteers.” The captain of the guard stepped forward again, but Dyn shook his head. “All who have fought a beast before.”

The Duke frowned again. “We have been a most fortunate realm, I am not sure we have two dozen guards who have faced a beast before.”

“Then put a call out to the villages, we must have beast-hardened men.”

The captain of the guard’s chest swelled up and his face grew blotchy. “You would rather have untrained townsfolk then our guard?”

“In hunting a pride of this size,” Dyn answered, “Yes.”

The captain looked ready to press his concerns, but the Duke put up his hand. “Do as he instructs.”

You could see the conflict raging inside of the captain. He so wanted to argue, but had just been given a direct order. In the end, he put his hand on the hilt of his sword, turned on his heel, and headed out.

Tyr was glad the man was not riding out with them. That kind of ego would get not only a man killed, but usually those who rode with him as well.

“You can stay in the stable,” the Duke barked. Then he too left the room.

The nobles scrambled to bow and exit as soon as the Duke had. Within moments, the room was cleared save Dyn, Tyr, and their four guards. Tyr did not see an insult in being housed in the stables. That is where most DeadBloods found their sleep, if they were lucky.

Plus, Tyr had seen Ellismayberry’s stables before. They were more luxurious and well-appointed than most castles’.

Their guards led them down the sweeping stone staircase and to the back of the castle proper. There was a stable able to house over a hundred horses. The Ellismayberry’s were renowned riders. Most of the noble children could ride by the age of five and practiced for hours every day.

Tyr was glad to see that both Hunter and Dyn’s mare had been stabled already. Hunter was lazily chewing some fine alfalfa hay as Tyr entered. The stallion had his saddle off, and it looked like he’d been given a brush out usually reserved for royalty. Tyr had to like these Ellismayberrians after all. The horse’s master might be up for execution, but they still treated Hunter with respect.

He stroked the stallion’s nose as he passed by. The guards opened an empty stall and indicated they could rest there.

“It’ll be a couple of days before we have your swordsmen ready,” one guard stated.

Dyn shook his head. “We ride out at sunrise tomorrow, with or without them, so I suggest you send your quickest couriers.”

The guard didn’t seem too happy about being given an order by a DeadBlood, but he dutifully nodded his head and escorted the rest of the guards out of the barn.

Dyn turned to Tyr, “I’ll head to the kitchens and see if I can’t scrape up some fresh food.”

Tyr nodded. It would be best if he did not go into the castle proper. Most of the servants knew him. Dyn was best for this task.

“I will prepare our beds.” By now, Tyr was an expert at making hay bale mattresses. After Tyr was done, they would sleep like kings tonight.

Dyn walked down the long aisle way between the stalls, leaving Tyr alone. There were a few stable boys down at the end of the massive barn, but they hardly counted because they were so far away. Had this been a typical barn, those boys would have been two buildings away.

So Tyr set himself upon his task. He grabbed a pair of hay hooks off the wall, grabbed the nearest bail, and swung it into their stall.

“Tyr?” a soft woman’s voice asked from behind him.

The voice was hauntingly familiar. When he turned, though, he found the mother of the one he thought had spoken.

“M’lady,” Tyr said bowing his head.

The Duchess waved off his respect. “Tell me true, Tyr, did she love you? Did you love her?”

Tyr’s throat constricted. It had been so long since he had thought of this. He had tried to bury it deep beneath the pain and recrimination.

He had to clear his throat before he answered, “Yes, m’lady, yes I did and she me.”

The Duchess nodded sadly. “And if you had been able, would you have married her? Raised the child as your own whether DeadBlood or LiveBlood?”

“Yes,” Tyr answered, “Of course.”

Even the nobility saw the DeadBloods as soulless monsters walking around in human skin. The reality was, though, that it was usually the LiveBloods who were the monsters. Just look at his brother, the beast.

The Duchess’s cool exterior cracked as tears streamed down her face, dragging the black kohl eyeliner with it. She had streaks of black down her cheek. “I am sorry. Please forgive me.”

The woman collapsed into his arms. “No, m’lady, it is I who should seek your forgiveness.”

“No,” the Duchess stated. “It was I who demanded the procedure and the old hag to perform it. It was me…”

Tyr wrapped his arms around the Duchess, rocking her back and forth. “We would all do things differently now.”

He let the woman sob into his shoulder, until her body rattled to the point Tyr feared that she would shake apart. “You know that Lainli, she has already forgiven us both.”

The Duchess raised her head off of his shoulder, “Do you believe that, truly?”

“Yes,” Tyr said, feeling the rightness of it. He knew that Lainli had loved him. He’d seen the light in her eyes. He was trained to detect such for blood collection. He also knew how much Lainli had loved her family, especially her mother. She would be distraught to know that her mother suffered so. “I believe that Lainli would want you to stop blaming yourself.”

Sniffing, the Duchess wiped her cheeks. She looked so much older than the last time he had been this close to her. “I should have known, you know. You are all that Lainli could talk about at dinner, or over stitchery, or when she should have been practicing the harpsichord.”

While it was painful to think on his lost love, it also gladdened his heart to know that Lainli did not hide her feelings for him. The Duchess had not joined the dots because no one would ever have guessed that such a daughter meant for greatness, probably to marry into the royal family, could ever fall in love with a DeadBlood. And since everyone assumed that DeadBloods did not have hearts, there was no way one could fall in love with their daughter.

Before Tyr could comfort the Duchess again, a roar reverberated through the stone stable. Then a scream, cut off prematurely. Tyr stood perfectly still. It could not be. His brother would not be so brazen.

Then another roar and scream that went on and on. It was confirmed. The beasts were attacking the castle. Tyr swung around and grabbed the Duchess by the elbow. Her face had transformed from sorrow to horror. He shoved her into the stall, then locked the paddock.

“Stay here. Do not make a sound.”

“But I must --”

“No, you must stay hidden, they will be searching the castle for you, not here.”

No one of importance was ever in the stables.

Finally, the Duchess nodded.

“Get down,” Tyr said before he turned and began unlocking the other paddocks. Hunter charged out of his stall snorting, nostrils flaring, and hooves flailing. Tyr grabbed his steed by the halter and pulled himself up onto his back. There was no time to saddle him.

Dyn’s mare not far behind, Tyr galloped down the long barn. He found the two stable boys huddled in panic. Tyr grabbed the lead of one of the other horses he had freed. It looked to be a tall, young gelding. He should be fast enough.

Tyr handed the lead over to the older of the boys. “Ride as quickly as you can to the nearest stronghold. Get reinforcements.”

Even though his hand was shaking, the stable boy took the lead. “How many?”

“Any,” Tyr said. “All, have them send everyone they have.”

The boy went to pull a step stool over, but they didn’t have time for that. Tyr grabbed him by the collar, picked him up and set him down upon the skittish horse’s back.

“Hang on,” Tyr said then clapped the gelding on the haunches. The terrified horse bolted out so quickly that the boy nearly tumbled off the back of him. But the boy, even so young, was an expert horseman and kept his seat. Within moments the boy was hunched over the horse’s withers, urging him onward.

Tyr could not wait to watch them disappear over the horizon. He turned to the remaining stable boy. “Release the horses,” Tyr said as he wrestled Hunter’s reins. The stallion wanted to fight. But Tyr had seen beasts turn to the stables and slaughter them all just out of spite and hunger. Also, with the horses gone it would give the beasts less reason to search the barns.

“Now,” Tyr shouted, getting the boy onto this feet and running. Tyr spurred forward Hunter, who responded instantly. They leapt from the stable onto the cobblestone path that led up to the castle proper.

Dyn burst out the kitchen door, heading straight for Tyr. He mounted his mare in a single smooth motion. “They are heading up,” Dyn explained. “They are going for the nursery.”

Damn, his brother was cunning. The nursery did not just hold babes, but was where the castle’s school was held. All noble children, and even children of the richer merchants, were schooled daily in the tower. It was one of the reasons Lainli had such a curious mind. It drove her to distraction that there was a subject forbidden to her.

Tyr and Hunter followed Dyn into the castle. Hunter’s iron hooves clanked on the stone steps. They exploded into the kitchen as maids scurried to get out of the way. In a blink, they were through into the narrow staircase that lead up to the tower.

Would they be in time?

CHAPTER 3

The high-pitched screams of children filled the stairwell. Dyn and Tyr had to battle their way past guards while trying to scale the tower.

Finally they reached the large, stout oak door. Dyn’s mare charged at it, hitting it with her shoulder. The wood shattered on impact. Tyr shattered a vial of blood on his sword. It’s steel turned a darker gray. The blade was a hundred times stronger than it was a second ago.

A beast, a lioness, swatted at a group of children in the corner. Their governess lay dead on the floor, her throat ripped out.

“Ya!” Tyr yelled. Hunter jumped over the body, striking out at the lioness as he landed. The she-beast hissed, dodging the hooves.

She not so easily dodged his blade though. At the least there was a beheading today, just not of Tyr.

The children screamed, clinging to one another. Only one brave little girl pointed over Tyr’s shoulder.

He turned in his saddle to find a full-maned beast, not Tyr’s brother though, perched atop a high shelve that used to hold a large globe and map of the kingdoms. The beast swished his tail, gathering his strength for an attack.

Which never came. Dyn let loose an arrow, which must have been blood fortified as it sailed all the way up to its feathers into the beast’s eye. The thing tilted back and forth, then fell to the floor, dead.

The guards rushed in, gathering the children.

“Get them down to the dungeons,” Dyn ordered.

Once the children had gone, the tower held an eerie silence. All of the screaming had stopped.

“What is his game?” Dyn asked.

The attack felt disorganized and unfocused, which was the exact opposite of any of his brother’s other attacks.

“This was but a ruse,” Tyr stated.

“Then what is his true aim?” Dyn inquired.

Tyr looked to the mural on the wall. It was a beautiful rendition of the flowing vineyards, crushing tubs, and wine barrels. What would Vitalis need with such things?

Then Tyr thought back to Salista and Lionel. What had the man said about the ingredients to the gel? Had he not said something about tannins? And weren’t tannins concerned with winemaking?

He was not certain, but it must have been what Vitalis was after. Tyr spun Hunter around and charged back down the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Dyn’s cry drifted behind him. Tyr did not have time to explain. So far the beasts seemed to be using only their cunning and basic blood magic. Clearly his brother had not yet recreated the gel, but if he gained the necessary ingredients, then the tide of the battle would surely turn.

Tyr looked down at his bandoleer. It was so empty. He hadn’t had the opportunity to fill it since returning from Salista’s time. He had one more vial, and not a very helpful one at that. It could only stand time still for a single second.

It would have to do. Hunter jumped the last three steps and came down heavy onto the cobblestones. They clattered their way across them, striking for the outbuildings. Specifically those where the red wines were stored. Tannins were the bitter substance that could come from either the wine itself or the wood it was stored in. They were the chemicals that gave each winery its own “flavor.”

If Tyr was correct and his brother was searching for tannins, that storage barn would be his target.

They hit the barn door at a run, exploding into the storage shed.

Unfortunately, Tyr had been all too right.

Before him were ten beasts, all breaking open the red wine barrels. His brother was positioned high up on a windowsill. Dyn burst in behind him, but it was only two DeadBloods to nearly a dozen beasts in a close, confined space.

While going up against beasts was never good, this really was not good.

Tyr raised his sword though. It might not be good, but it was what he was born for. A lioness attacked from the side. Hunter spun, gouging her with his steel-tipped hooves. She snarled, backing away, blood dripping down the side of her face. Another half-maned male thought he could do better and attacked to the same fate, only this time the male could not use his right foot.

Hunter spun in place, snorting and clanging his steel shoes against the stone floor. The sound reverberated against the tight walls. Many of the beasts fled the shed like crows scattering before an army. Only a few beasts remained, but they could certainly do enough damage.

Dyn tried to push forward, but two beasts descended from the rafters. The first beast knocked Dyn off his mount. The other downed the mare, ripping her throat out. In her last moments and blood pumped from her neck, her legs flailed still trying to get herself upright.

Tyr turned Hunter sharply, charging at the second beast. There was no help he could give the mare, not with the ground soaked in her blood. Dyn regained his feet, blood dribbling from his forehead. He swayed back and forth, holding out his sword. The beast taunted him by batting at the metal blade. Dyn nearly dropped the sword he was so disoriented.

He knew that he should keep his focus on his brother, and stop the beasts from acquiring the tannins, but Tyr could not let Dyn die as his mare had. Before he could get across the room, the beast leapt. Dyn tried to protect himself, but his sword was swatted away and the beast dug his claws into Dyn’s chest and ripped.

Even Tyr was shocked, the flesh was flayed so badly that you could see Dyn’s heart beating within his ribcage.

“No!” Tyr yelled, leaping from Hunter, driving his sword into the back of the beast. The creature went down with a scream, then screamed no more. Tyr dropped to his knees beside his thane. Dyn’s hand was weak in his own.

As Hunter blocked the rest of the beasts, Tyr pulled the small vial from around his neck. Dyn squeezed his hand tight, sapping his last remaining strength.

“Save it for yourself,” Dyn stated barely above a whisper.

Tyr ignored him. His HeartsBlood was his thane’s, although it was weak. It was the remainder of the blood that Salista had pulled. It wasn’t the distilled, true HeartsBlood that Dyn would have procured. And the HeartsBlood was not Dyn’s so it would not be as effective, but Tyr had to try. Dyn’s vial had long ago been drained.

Trying not to look too closely at the gaping wound, Tyr dribbled the HeartsBlood on the fatal injury. Dyn grimaced as the solution went to work. Sometimes the healing was more painful than the original wound.

Dyn’s face contorted as Tyr used the last of the HeartsBlood to seal the largest wound. He could not heal Dyn completely, but at the least he could no longer see his heart beating.

Dyn’s head lolled to the side but his breathing steadied.

He left Hunter to protect the old man as he drew his sword from the beast’s back. Tyr glared at the three remaining beasts. These remaining creatures were younger, their human features more easily identified. Their eyes grew wide at their brethren’s blood dripping from his sword.

Two jumped out the window and fled. The sole remaining beast stood his ground, growling and snarling. Tyr did not have time for this. His brother was still up on the ledge, scraping tannins from a barrel.

With no preamble, Tyr charged forward, startling the beast. He must have expected some speech or taunting. The beast reared up on his hind legs, striking out with his claws. Typical beast. Tyr had seen that maneuver at least a thousand times.

He dodged the claws and went straight for the beast’s belly. He drove his sword up to the hilt, cut right, then left.

The beast let out a startled mew then fell on top of Tyr. Jerking his blade lose, he pushed the beast off of him and rolled to his feet. He glanced over to find Dyn struggling to stand, his arm guarding his still injured side. It was better than being dead though.

Vitalis let out a roar. It was just the brothers, as it should have been. Tyr pulled his short sword out. He would need both blades for this beast. Vitalis wasn’t young, and would not make the same mistakes the other younger beasts had. Vitalis had survived a hundred battles with DeadBloods, he was seasoned.

And he had the high ground. Tyr moved to the left, toward the stairs, but the beast roared, swatting at him. Tyr jumped back just in time. He felt the wind of the attack. Luckily, though, Vitalis did not land a claw. They danced like this a few times, each testing the other’s weakness.

Tyr noticed that the alcove was not very deep. If he could force Vitalis back into it, the beast would have nowhere to go. Nowhere to maneuver. So Tyr went on the offensive, swinging and parrying, forcing Vitalis back. His brother still wore the scars of his narrow escape from the past. Burn marks covered half of his face and his very human pink ear could be seen

Once Vitalis was far enough from the ledge, Tyr leapt up, preparing the killing blow. Which he would have made, except for a form more human than beast sprang from behind Vitalis, and stabbed Tyr in the gut. The woman was clearly on the descent. Her pupils were vertical, but she still walked on two legs.

Tyr looked down at the knife in his abdomen. She jerked he blade up, splitting his belly wall. Tyr grabbed the blade, jerking it from his belly, and then backhanded her with his gauntlet hand. The near beast flew off the ledge, falling to her death on the stone floor below.

Tucking his arm to keep his bowels inside his body, Tyr spun to find his brother not on the attack. Instead the beast had created a red time vortex. Why would he do that? He had won the day here. Tyr was in no shape to fight and Dyn was still barely on his feet.

No matter, the vortex gurgled and droned as Vitalis leapt from the window into the center of it.

“No!” Dyn screamed but it was too late, Tyr had leapt after his brother. But the vortex was already closing. Tyr pulled his last vial and shattered it. Time stood still long enough for him to enter the vortex before it closed. He hit hard. The vortex caught him in its hurricane-like winds, spinning him around and around.

Red filled his vision and all he could smell was blood. He wasn’t sure if it was his own or the beast’s.

Then, after what seemed to be an eternity, Tyr hit hard on the ground. The sound of honking and ancient cursing filled the air. He staggered to his feet, seeing another one of those yellow contraptions. This driver was as angry at him as the last.

Street. Yes, he must get out of it.

Stumbling, Tyr made it to the thing Salista called a “sidewalk.” He bumped into a long-haired man who smiled.

“I didn’t know the renaissance faire was in town,” the man said.

“Yes, I will avail myself to your Lord of Rings as soon as I am able,” Tyr said, gritting through the pain.

The gentleman patted Tyr on the back. “You do that, man.”

Tyr did not know when though. For now he had to find himself a witch.

DEADBLOOD – The sequel to the #1 Paranormal Romance HeartsBlood

CHAPTER 1

Dr. “Sal” Calon sat at the nurse’s station watching the rain run down the ambulance bay doors. It hadn’t stormed in San Francisco like this since last year. Sal gulped. She really didn’t want to think about last year. She’d lost so much. Everything, really.

While she still wanted to help people, her burning desire to be a doctor had vanished along with Tyr. The other nurses did their best, but it just wasn’t the same without Maria. Sal kept expecting the blond-banged Latina to burst through the doors at any moment and announce her latest conquest.

This poor new class of interns hadn’t had the proper Maria welcome.

Sal smiled. It was good to be able to remember her best friend with a smile rather than a sob.

“Dr. Calon, are you going to finish rounds or just make me guess?” Dr. Manning asked, tapping her foot on the tile floor.

Before Sal could answer, lightning struck, washing the emergency room in an unnatural light, and then the building was plunged into darkness. It took a few breaths before the generator kicked in again. Sal half expected to see a man in a leather coat dashing past. Then the thunder hit, shaking Sal’s world. That lightening had been close.

“Alright, people, it’s just thunder and lightning,” Dr. Manning stated. “Let’s get this wrapped up before the second coming.”

Sal gathered her thoughts. Rounds in this day and age really were useless. The board was up to date and the computer records were immaculate. But Manning loved her ritual, so they would complete their rounds.

“The only pending procedure is Mr. Garcia’s cardiac catheter. We’re just waiting on the cardiac department to schedule it,” Sal explained.

Dr. Manning slapped her hands together and jumped off the counter she was sitting on, addressing the residents, interns and externs. She had quite the audience today.

“Okay, let’s get this party started,” Dr. Manning said with less enthusiasm than the statement usually garnered.

Sal noticed that even Stacy was more subdued than last year. Last year she couldn’t have ended rounds without a not-so-subtle barb to Sal. Stacey couldn’t even look Sal in the eye anymore.

Sal knew through the grapevine that Stacey only had a hazy memory of making out with Tyr, and she certainly didn’t know that Sal and Tyr had been together. Still somewhere in her gut, Stacey must have known that she had wronged Sal, in a most egregious way. A way that was unforgivable. Hence Stacey cutting Sal some slack.

Stacey didn’t need to worry about it though. Stacey had been under an edict at the time. Not that you needed a push really to want to make out with Tyr, but Sal knew that dazed look in someone’s eye after being commanded by an edict.

As much as Sal hated to admit it, Stacey was in no way to blame for what had happened in the resident’s room last year. It had been Tyr, all Tyr.

Even after a year, Sal could feel her throat tighten at the thought of him. Seeing him betray her with Stacey. Hot tears threatened to well again, but she refused them. She was done crying over the past.

Her cellphone jangled at her hip. Well, it couldn’t be the hospital since she was sitting right here.

No, it was worse. It was her little brother’s parole officer wondering if she knew where Alejandro was. Sal didn’t, of course. Even though he was living with her, he was seldom home and he flaunted the rules as badly as he had done with their mother. He’d broken curfew nearly every night. She’d covered for him, but maybe it was time for some tough love.

“Not sure. I’ll check. On way home now,” she texted back.

It didn’t help that Sal worked twelve to thirty-six hour shifts. Most of that time her brother was in the wind.

Someone cleared their throat behind her. She turned to find Richard standing over her. “It’s pretty nasty out there. Want a ride home?”

Although her ex-fiancée was trying to act all casual, like he was just heading home himself, Sal glanced down at her watch. It was nine-twenty two. Since Richard was a senior psychiatric clinician, he had probably wrapped up his work at five. So he’s sat around for over four hours waiting for her to finish up.

It was like he thought that time and interaction could revive their love. Unfortunately their relationship had been past resuscitation even before the engagement. Theirs had been a calm, cool love. After the fire she’d felt with Tyr? Sal could never go back to Richard. And while she didn’t want to encourage him at all, it really was raining like a maniac out there.

“If you don’t mind,” Sal answered.

“Not at all,” Richard said waving his arm toward the exit.

“Let me get my stuff,” Sal said and rushed to the resident’s room. Even though she really wanted to get home and figure out where Alejandro was, Sal hesitated with her hand on the resident room’s doorknob. She hated going in there, ever since last year. She had hoped over time the memories of Tyr’s deception and abandonment would fade, but each time she stepped into that room it was like tearing off a bandage, and the memories bleed fresh once again.

Taking a deep breath, she turned the handle and strode into the room. She tried hard not to look in the corner, although she could swear that she could see Tyr and Stacey’s shadow there. Ignoring her vivid imagination, Sal grabbed her laptop.

Before closing the computer though, she noticed that it was running another search through the morgue entries. Her computer, like herself, recognized this storm as seeming unnatural. Everyone else was complaining about global warming creating extreme weather patterns, but Sal feared something else entirely.

However, the computer had found no anemia or encephalitis cases that put to rest the fear that a beast might burst through the door. Sal closed the laptop and shoved it into her bag, then hooked the strap over her shoulder, turned on her heel and was out of there before the memories could insinuate themselves any more.

Richard was waiting for her, his umbrella at his side. He led her through the ambulance bay doors and popped open the umbrella, holding it over Sal’s head. He was such a gentleman. What was wrong with her that she couldn’t love him?

He’d never betray her. He’d certainly never abandon her.

But looking at his handsome face and feeling nothing inside her heart confirmed that she could never go back to the psychiatrist.

Sal allowed him to open the car door and slipped inside the luxurious SUV. She could hardly wait until the heated seats kicked in. They weren’t a block before her butt was toasty warm.

Traffic was a nightmare, and Richard wasn’t the most aggressive driver, so it took over a half an hour to get to the Mission District. Luckily there was a parking spot right in front of her place.

“Let me walk you up,” Richard said.

Normally Sal would have declined the offer, again not wanting to give Richard the wrong idea. However the gangs had begun moving into her neighborhood. Having a nice tall male to escort her sounded pretty good.

Richard got out, opened the umbrella, and then opened her door so that she was practically rain free as they moved to the apartment building door. He opened that as well and indicated for her to go in. He shook out the umbrella then closed it before entering the foray.

“I think I’ve got it from here,” Sal suggested, but Richard shook his head.

“Door to door service,” he responded and hit the elevator button.

They entered. Did the thing get three times smaller? Richard’s shoulder seemed way too close and his Lacoste aftershave filled her nostrils. Maybe this had been a mistake.

Once the elevator doors opened, Sal rushed out of them and down the hallway. Richard however, was right behind her. Damn him and his long legs.

She reached for the door handle, eager to shed his presence.

“Forgot to lock it?” Richard asked.

Sal looked at the psychiatrist as though he had lost his mind, and then realized her mistake. She and her apartment door lock had grown so closely acquainted over the past few months that she didn’t even need to issue an edict any longer. She simply had to reach her hand out, and it unbolted itself.

Trying to cover, Sal shrugged, hoping it came off as casual. “Must have been Alex.”

Only she had steered the conversation in the wrong direction as Richard’s eyebrow shot up. “You mean, he is actually coming home to the address he left with his parole officer?”

After pulling two eighteen-hour shifts in just as many days, Sal did not want to have yet another conversation about her errant little brother. Between her mother defending all things Alejandro, and Richard wishing to psychoanalyze her brother by proxy, Sal was crunched somewhere in between. She put on her best “thank you for your concern” smile before answering.

“We can only hope.” Sal put her hand out. “Thanks for the ride.”

With a sly smile that told her that he knew she was done with the conversation, Richard shook her hand. “Any time.”

His hand lingered in hers. It had been the most physical contact they’d had since…

Sal gritted her teeth. She would not utter his name, not even in her own head. Not again. Not wanting to encourage Richard’s advance, she extracted her hand and headed into the apartment without looking back. Shutting the door behind her, the lock latched itself. She leaned against the door, waiting for Richard to leave.

When he didn’t, Sal called out. “Alejandro! We need to talk.”

Dropping her keys in the little dish on the side table, she heard Richard’s well-oiled loafers move down the hall. That had been too close. She needed to be more careful. What she and Lionel were attempting was dangerous enough. She didn’t need Richard suspicious as well.

“Salista…”

Sal tensed as a figure entered the darkened hallway. Her breath caught in her throat. Could it be…?

But as her eyes adjusted, Sal realized that the frame was far too short and lean to be anyone but her brother. Alex had, in fact, finally come home before two o’clock in the morning. Instead of coming down the hallway toward her, though, he kept toward the wall.

“Alex, what’s wrong?”

Six months ago, she would have walked right past her brother without smelling the fear on him. His electrons were filled with the essence of terror.

“I am sorry…”

While the beast was on her mind, Sal knew she had a much more worldly concern at the moment. Gangs. Her brother had been jumped into the Valencianos gang a few months ago, and there appeared to be no jumping him out of it.

Sal fished around for her pocketknife. No matter what she found around that corner, she was more than likely going to need blood. Just as she was about to prick her finger, Alex broke away from his captor. Another figure came into view.

“Back!” she growled, filling the edict with every ounce of protective energy she could muster.

The figure not only stumbled backward, but crumpled to the floor. Crumpled in a pile of leather and musk.

“Tyr!”

Sal ran forward and dropped to her knees as her brother stammered, “I came home, but he got me. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t speak or move until you came home.”

Oh, Sal knew exactly why, but did not have time to explain edicts to her baby brother as she assessed Tyr’s condition.

His clothes were soaked red with blood. Worse, there were black streaks. The beast’s blood. Tyr moaned as she moved his jacket away from his waist. A set of claw marks had ripped through his abdomen. By sheer strength of edict, Tyr was holding his guts in. Literally.

“It’s okay, Tyr. I’m here.”

“You mean, you know this creep?”

Sal didn’t bother looking up or answering him. “Get me my medical kit. It’s under the kitchen sink.”

“But—”

“No ‘buts,’ Alex. Do it!”

She felt her brother take a few steps back, and then turn toward the tiny kitchenette. While he was getting the supplies, she looked at Tyr’s bandolier. To her horror, she found only two small vials, each with no more than a drop each.

“Damn, this is heavy!” Alex complained as he dropped the large metal kit next to her.

Damn right it’s heavy, Sal thought. After Tyr’s last injury, she had vowed to never be short on supplies again.

But Tyr grabbed her wrist. “I am past your magic, witch.”

With hot, red blood oozing between her fingers, Sal realized that Tyr might be right. They needed something more potent than Lactated Ringers. She ripped the buttons off his shirt and searched for the tiny vial that could save both his life and her heart.

Tyr’s grip tightened. “It is gone.”

Sal refused to believe it. Then she found the crystal vial dangling from the leather cord. Shattered.

CHAPTER 2

Tyr could feel the life seep from him. He was only glad that once again he could look upon the face that he loved so greatly.

“I am done,” he said, reaching for her hand.

Her face was so like it was when he’d broken her heart. Tears flowed down her face as her lips quivered, only this time there was also a look of determination.

“No,” she said, pulling a vial from around her neck.

How could that be?

“What have you done, witch?” he asked.

“I…I taught Lionel how to do a heart stick.”

Was there ever such a witch? To be so brazen as to have her own HeartsBlood drawn? God, he had missed her.

“It is not distilled, nor mine,” Tyr struggled to say as breathing became difficult. “It will be weak.”

“Ah,” Salista said. “You forget, I am overflowing with intent.”

That was true. The woman was a force of nature when she set her mind to it. However that quality was a double-edged sword. She was also ripe to descend and he could not allow that to happen.

“No, we cannot risk it,” Tyr said, gripping her wrist, trying to stop her from opening the vial.

Unfortunately he was too weak to make his threat stick. Sal easily brushed him off, opening the vial, dribbling its contents on his belly wound. Fire ignited along his side, that felt like Salista was dropping embers along his skin. But where her blood fell, the wound closed. It glowed a ruddy red then lightened to a healthy pink.

Salista’s lips were moving although he could not hear the words. She had healed him once with his own HeartsBlood, but now she was doing it with her own. Untrained yet determined, she was making the impossible possible.

His shallow breaths transformed to panting as the pain washed over him, as if the beast’s wound was being reenacted. His fingers dug into Salista’s arm as she emptied the vial over the upper most part of the wound.

It would not be enough though. He had multiple other severe injuries.

“What now, witch?” he asked. His guts may not be falling out but he could feel his weakness. He was not yet beyond the tug of the veil.

“Alex, go into the refrigerator,” Salista said. “Open the produce drawer and pull out the blood bag.”

The young man ran to the large white box that miraculously kept things cold, and pulled out a large red bag. “Oh, sis, gross! Totally gross! How long has that been in there?”

“Well, perhaps if you’d ever eaten your vegetables like you were supposed to you, would have found it sooner,” Salista shot back.

She poked a syringe tip into the bag and sucked out the blood.

“Damn, Sal, that is like a whole pint of blood.”

Salista didn’t answer her brother, she just injected the HeartsBlood into his other wounds. “That should do,” she said as she finished up.

Tyr took in the first non-ragged breath since his injury. “That it should.”

He stayed down for a moment, not that he was weak any longer, but to look into Salista’s eyes while she was still concerned. He was certain that once he rose, her concern would wane and be replaced by reproach.

“This is freaking me out,” Alex said behind her, shifting from one foot to the other. “Really, freaking me out.”

“Not now, Alex,” Salista said. “Seriously, you’re supposed to be so bad ass and you can’t handle a little blood?”

“Oh, I can handle blood, but injected into someone then healing them, come on, Sis, this is off the hook.”

Tyr was not certain what hook the young man was speaking of, but he could understand his confusion. The first time Tyr saw HeartBlood work, even he was confounded.

He could not dally any longer though. There was a beast on the prowl.

Tyr rose, bowing his head. “Thank you, but I must be off.”

Salista had her hands on her hips. “That’s all. Really? After everything that’s happened you are just Hi Ho Silver and you are off?”

Again, Tyr was not sure who Hi Ho Silver was, perhaps he was with the Lord of Rings? Still, he did not have time to argue or explain so he answered simply, “Yes.”

“Because, what? You are DeadBlood?” Salista challenged.

“Yes.”

Salista opened her mouth as if to say something, then snapped it shut again, hanging her head, nodding in acquiescence. Finally. The concept of DeadBlood was not that hard to understand. Why it had taken her this long baffled Tyr.

* * *

Tyr was DeadBlood. He’d explained it like a hundred times to her. He had never wavered, yet each time they had this conversation, Salista expected a different answer.

What was the definition of crazy? Repeating the same thing over and over again, expecting different results? Oh, if only Richard could put his analytical powers to this problem.

Tyr, no matter how he felt about her, would always bolt if the beast was around. And since in his time there seemed to be an abundance of beasts, she was forever screwed.

Sal tried to help Tyr up, but he shrugged off her hand and rose on his own.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Alex blurted, dancing back and forth. “There’s no way. No way he gets up after that.”

Sal ignored her brother. He was going to have to get up to speed on his own. Tyr rotated his arm around, then swiveled side to side.

“You are a most confounding witch,” Tyr said.

“Hey, don’t talk to my sister like that.”

Sal put up her hand. “Don’t worry, Alex, to a DeadBlood that was a high form of praise.” Alex looked perplexed, but she didn’t have time to explain the whole Tyr was from the future but lived in a medieval society thing. She turned instead to Tyr. “Do you know where the beast is?”

Tyr shook his head. “But I do have a good idea. Clearly he was attempting to recreate your warlock’s potion, but failed. I believe he has come back to resolve that issue.”

As much as her heart ached, wanting Tyr to give her an apology that would never come, she explained, “Lionel didn’t divulge the true formula. He didn’t want anyone else creating it before he got a lock on the patent.”

Tyr frowned. Clearly they didn’t have legal chain of custody in his time. However, Tyr shrugged off his confusion and headed to the door.

“No, no, no,” Alex said, jumping in front of him. “No one goes anywhere until you explain to me what just happened.”

Tyr, not a big one for explanations, grabbed her brother by the shoulders, Sal assumed to move him aside, however he stopped midway. Tyr’s hands flew back as his face grew clouded.

“What’s wrong?” Sal asked after a moment. It was odd to see Tyr affected so or at all really. That whole damned DeadBlood stoicism.

“He is…” Tyr whispered as if he were afraid to say the next words.

“I am, what?” Alex demanded, shimmying out from under Tyr’s grasp.

“You are DeadBlood,” Tyr stated, taking a step back then turning to Sal. “Why did you not tell me?”

Sal’s mind was spinning. How could her brother be DeadBlood? “Because I didn’t know.”

Tyr put his hands back on Alex’s shoulders. The teen tried to squirm out again, but Tyr dug his fingers into his flesh.

“Ouch!”

“As live as your blood is,” Tyr stated, “His is as dead.”

Sal knew that Tyr had mentioned before that her blood was especially rich with intent. Apparently Alex got the other end of the stick.

“What does that mean?” Alex whined.

“It means that you are rare indeed,” Tyr said. “And must be trained.”

“Trained, yes, if it means freaking explaining this to me,” Alex said.

“I would be careful for which you wish, Alex,” Sal said, knowing the burden that being a DeadBlood was on Tyr.

Tyr finally let go of her brother and took in a breath. “Your blood has no intent.”

Alex looked between Sal and Tyr. “Really? That was supposed to mean something to me?”

Sal stepped between them. “You did go to your high school biology class right?”

“Very funny,” Alex sneered.

She noticed that he didn’t exactly answer her though. He’d been suspended many a time for truancy. “You know that electrons spin around the atom and can leave and go to another atom?”

Alex’s brow was furrowed but he nodded. “Vaguely.”

“You also should know that that the atom is not empty. That there is something called plasma to fill in the atom.”

Again Alex nodded.

“Alright. By Tyr’s definition, that plasma can be filled with intent. Your mood fills that space. The electron bathes in it, gets coated by it. So when it zips off to parts unknown it carried your intent with it.”

“Your electron is like a mood ring?” Alex asked, tilting his head to the side.

Tyr frowned. Alex wasn’t making this any easier. All Sal wanted to do was drop to her knees and cry. She either wanted Tyr to kiss her or leave. There was no in between, however here she was explaining Blood Magic.

“Sort of. It doesn’t just react to your mood, it is your mood, and you can convey that to the next atom it encounters. Each mood has certain properties that can be manipulated. My atoms can affect your atoms and so on.”

Sal put out her hand and with intent, opened a kitchen drawer. Alex jumped back. “Whoa! You can do stuff like that?”

“If I am careful, yes,” Sal explained.

“That’s what happened with the blood you poured on his wound? That’s how you healed him so freaking fast?”

“Yes, HeartsBlood has exceptional healing properties.”

“Heart’s blood? Seriously that blood came from your heart?” Alex asked.

“Yes,” Sal answered. She could still feel the pinch of the needle going through her skin, between her ribs. That pain though was nothing compared to seeing Tyr kissing Stacey. That had cracked her heart in two. And the man who had done that was standing right next to her.

“How?” Alex asked, his eyes still darting back and forth between her and Tyr.

“I taught Lionel how to do it,” Sal replied.

“Lionel? That skinny, geeky physicist? I hate to tell you, sis, but he ain’t that kind of doctor.”

“I know, but with Lionel not giving the complete formula, he calculated a high probability that the beast would return and we would need all of the HeartsBlood we could get out hands on.”

“Why didn’t you just suck his blood then? You’re the physician.”

“Because I have a far higher level of intent in my blood.”

“So your blood is more potent?” Alex asked.

“Enough,” Tyr said. “His instruction can begin on our quest. There is a beast to hunt.”

Alex’s expression darkened. “I take it that wasn’t a metaphor? He doesn’t seem like that much of a metaphorical guy. He is taking about a real beast, not just some big dude with brass knuckles.”

Sal went to her brother and put her arm around his shoulder. “Yes. A beast is a LiveBlood who dabbled in blood magic. The more they use it, the more bestial they become.”

“But,” Alex said. “You are LiveBlood and you just used intent.”

“Like I said, I have to be careful. As long as I don’t try to force an object against its nature and I am calm, I seem to be safe. If I tried to dominate an object, then I would be in trouble.”

“But I can do stuff like that without risk?” Alex asked.

“We must be off,” Tyr said, grabbing Alex by the elbow. “There is a beast amongst the people of this time. Unaware. Unprotected.”

Tyr felt Alex’s biceps. “Has he had instruction in broadswords?”

“Um, no,” Alex replied.

“Not even shortswords? Archery? Alchemy? The pike?”

Alex shook his head at all of them.

“Please,” Sal stated. “He can’t even color-coordinate his socks.”

“Hey!” Alex protested.

“Pull up your cuffs,” Sal demanded.

Sure enough one white sock and one blue. Her point made.

“No matter. We must go,” Tyr stated then walked off, dragging Alex with him.

Sal trotted to keep up. “You can’t be serious about taking him with you.”

“He must begin his training,” Tyr insisted and with a wave of his arm, opened the front door to her apartment.

“Training yes, maybe. I’m not sure. But fighting a beast on day one? Not so much.”

Alex’s head whipped back and forth trying to follow the conversation. “Yeah, I gotta agree with my big sis on this one. I don’t think I’m up for a beast quite yet. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the whole kitchen drawer thing.”

“DeadBlood fight beasts,” Tyr said as if that explained it all, but Sal knew that to him, it did.

“Fine,” Sal said. Arguing with Tyr was a zero sum game. At any minute Tyr would throw down an edict on both of them. “But I’m coming.” She had to protect her little brother from not only the beast, but from being destroyed by the DeadBlood stigma.

“We need no witch,” Tyr stated.

Sal pointed to the rips in Tyr shirt. “Really? Are you so sure about that?”

Tyr frowned but did not argue further.

Sal threw on her jacket, slung her laptop over her back and headed out with Tyr and her brother. She shut the door behind them, but didn’t bother locking it. Sal seriously doubted that she would be coming back here any time soon.

* * *

Tyr strode ahead of the other two. Salista was correct. The boy was woefully unprepared to face a beast. But he was not the first DeadBlood to be discovered later in life rather than in infancy. Some parents would try to hide their DeadBlood babe from the world, only to have it found out later that the child was DeadBlood.

He had found that showing the newly discovered DeadBlood exactly what they faced helped speed their training. No more whining about the long hours of practicing swordplay or how tired their arms were. Once they looked a beast in the eye, they begged to stay up later and train more.

“Where is the clang, clang?” Tyr asked.

“Clang, clang?” Salista questioned.

“Yes, the open aired conveyance.” Tyr made the motion of ringing the bell.

“Ah, the cable car,” Salista replied. “It is just a few blocks down.”

Salista’s younger brother stopped though. “The bus stop is right at the corner though.”

Tyr frowned. “The slow, enclosed vessel that smells of long over used socks?’

Salista chuckled. “Yeah, let’s take the cable car.”

The young, untrained DeadBlood fell in line as they continued down the firm land that was called a sidewalk. It was better to walk here than out on the black road where the conveyances tried to hit you.

“Guys, I am still unclear on this whole blood magic thing,” Salista’s brother stated. Tyr was certain that once he saw it in action, he would no longer have such questions.

They were nearly there. Tyr could see one of these “cable cars” at the crest of the hill. Even with Salista’s HeartsBlood, his damaged muscles could feel the strain of climbing the steep hill.

From the deep shadows of an alley, several figures emerged. While Tyr was not from this time, he could tell by their posture that they were not friends. The group meant them harm.

“Alejandro,” the lead male stated. He did not need to use blood magic to become corrupted. He was already descending without misused intent. “Whatcha doing hanging with these bandejos?”

Tyr could feel fear beating from Salista’s brother. Clearly the boy knew of these bullies and feared them.

“Be gone and no harm will come to you,” Tyr explained, he felt quite magnanimous given the fact they threatened Salista and her kin.

The leader of the group snorted, sneering. “Oh will you now?”

Perhaps the thug did not understand Tyr’s generous offer or his language. “Yes. However in three seconds I am no longer bound to my words.”

“Wow, three whole seconds, huh?” the boy who thought he was a man said as he produced a small knife from his belt. It was hardly large enough to skin a rabbit, let alone a deer.

Tyr glared at the impetuous thug. “Fall.”

The leader sneered again, then looked shocked as the knife slipped from his grip and clanged on the ground. His followers snickered, clearly agitating the leader.

“Why’d you have to go and do that for?” the boy demanded. “We just wanted a little face time with our boy, Alejandro.”

“He is your boy no longer,” Tyr explained. “He is DeadBlood and is coming with us.”

The group spread out, trying to outflank them. Clearly they did not know what a DeadBlood was or what they could do.

“I don’t think so,” The leader reasserted.

“I do not suppose if I made my offer again, you would accept.”

“That would be a hell, no,” the leader said pulling out a small metal weapon from his pocket.

Salista grabbed Tyr’s arm. “That’s a gun,” she said, clearly afraid of the tiny item.

Tyr knew what a gun was. He had encountered them back at the museum with Salista and the beast. They utilized a form of Dyn’s powder alchemy to shoot tiny metal objects very quickly. A trivial weapon.

He looked to the others who did not seem quite so delusional as their leader. “Flee now and no harm will come to you.”

“Except from me, puta,” the leader said, waving his tiny weapon at Tyr. Thugs, they never really changed no matter the year or society. Dull. Demanding. And wholly idiotic.

Tyr pulled his sword from its sheath. It made a ringing sound. The others took a step back. “Do your worst,” Tyr demanded.

The man pulled the metal trigger. Bullets flew from the gun, but Tyr’s blade was forged in intent. A few flicks of the wrist and the bullets were scattered harmlessly away.

Tyr tilted his head. “I am assuming that was your worst?”

Now, even the leader of the thugs no longer held an air of superiority. He took a step back.

“Perhaps now it is my turn to do my worst?” Tyr stated, taking a step forward, pressing his advantage.

The group broke and ran as one, like a flock of birds in the face of a hawk.

Tyr sheathed his sword again and turned to head back up the hill.

Salista took her brother’s arm. “Now that was blood magic.”

“Okay,” Alex said, rubbing his hands together. “I think I get it.”

CHAPTER 3

Sal held onto the cable car’s railing. The rain had let up and was barely more than a mist. The headlights of the cable car illuminated the fog ahead. She looked over to Alex who seemed pale, and his knuckles were white as he gripped the railing.

Tyr of course stood on the outer platform, without holding onto anything. He peered ahead as if he could see past the fog and to the beast himself.

Sal didn’t kid herself. Even with Tyr’s valor and vigor, going against the beast was not going to be any picnic. Unlike Alex, she knew the sheer power of the beast. He was unhinged from any moral constraints.

She had tried Lionel on his cell phone several times, but it had gone straight to voicemail. Before panicking, she had to remind herself that his lab was far beneath the university and did not get reception. Plus, once the physicist was into an experiment, he shut out the world. His phone could be ringing right next to him and he wouldn’t even notice.

Or the beast had already gotten to him.

No, Sal refused to think like that. They had been through too much to have it end like that. Her eyes slid over to Tyr. They had been through so much. She could still remember the sting of his blade as it made its cut across her skin to extract her heartbroken blood.

Unfortunately she could also remember his touch. Her yielding to him. His yielding to her. She was ruined for other men. That wasn’t just a hyperbolic statement. It was true. How could anyone ever stand up against Tyr?

Who should she really be angry at? Tyr had tried to warn her over and over again. But like any woman down the ages, she thought she could change him. Chain him to her time and her side.

But he was DeadBlood. He had no other purpose in life than hunting beasts. Even if every beast was slain, Sal suspected he would then turn his attention to gangs and war criminals. He would never stop until the world was safe for everyone else. It was who he was. It was part of the reason she loved him so. How could she expect or want him to change?

Yet she still did, damn it. Would it be so much to ask to carve out a tiny bit of his DeadBlood heart for her and only her? Where was trust in this equation?

But she knew what Tyr would answer. She could trust him to hunt beasts. It was the only promise he could ever give her.

And now he was trying to drag Alex into that life? To have no love? No ambition? No family? No way. Sal had to find a way to stop that from happening. Hence why she was here. Tyr might be able to strong-arm them in this, but ultimately she would make sure Alex had a life. She wouldn’t lose him to gangs, and she certainly wasn’t going to lose him to DeadBloods.

Tyr must have felt her gaze as he turned. Tyr didn’t exactly smile, but the lines around his eyes decreased, softening his features. Why was she so warned by that tiniest expression?

Then he turned his head forward, staring into the fog. The cable car driver clanged his bells, announcing their next stop. San Francisco State University.

The car pulled to a stop and all three hopped off before the cable car hurried on its way.

“This direction,” Sal said, heading up a tree-lined path.

“Wait,” Tyr said. “Can you not smell that?”

Sal shook her head, but Alex frowned. “Kind of like bread left in the fridge too long?”

Tyr nodded. “See? He is DeadBlood after all.”

“Is it the beast?” Sal asked.

“No,” Tyr said. “But a LiveBlood attempting to overuse their intent.”

“Someone who hasn’t descended yet?” Sal clarified.

Tyr nodded. “The beast’s human accomplice.”

Sal could still feel the scar on the top of her head, given to her by the beast’s last accomplice. Was it the same one? They had never found Kurtis. He had disappeared after Alcatraz.

“Where is he?” Sal asked.

“I know not, but the man is a poor student. He is overreaching greatly.”

Tyr turned to Alex. “What is he attempting to do?”

“How would I know?” Alex complained in that grating teenage tone.

Tyr, however, seemed unaffected by it. He simply put his hands on Alex’s shoulders. “You are DeadBlood, now act like it.”

Alex was about to protest when Tyr continued. “Close your eyes.”

Her brother looked to her and Sal encouraged him to do as Tyr asked. If he didn’t Tyr would simply issue an edict, which was not so pleasant, and Sal should know.

Alex closed his eyes as Tyr instructed, “Now breath in the smell. It contains everything you need.”

“What emotion do you smell?”

“I don’t know,” Alex pleaded, his shoulder slumping.

“As DeadBlood, we have no intent of our own. So we are not confused by others’. We can sense it true. And we can manipulate it, but for now, just feel the emotions flow over you. Don’t think about it. Let your body do the work.”

“Fear,” Alex blurted out, seeming to surprise himself.

“Yes,” Tyr said, his voice full of pride. “This one will descend quickly if we don’t stop him. He reeks of fear. The beast must have threatened him with death if he did not accomplish his task.”

Sal tried to smell the same thing, but Tyr must have been right. She could only sense her apprehension.

“Now,” Tyr said. “What is he attempting to do?”

Alex frowned. “I’m supposed to figure that out just by the smell?”

“Yes,” Tyr said. Alex had as much trouble arguing with Tyr as Sal did when he threw down the definitive “yes.”

Alex closed his eyes again and breathed in. She could see his eyes darting back and forth under his eyelids. He took in another breath.

“He is trying to unlock something?” Alex asked with a great deal of hesitation.

“Yes,” Tyr said, patting Alex on the back. “He is attempting to open an intent locked door to be exact.”

Alex beamed. Surprisingly Tyr was an excellent teacher. Who knew he had patience as a virtue? He would make a great father. Before Sal went any further down that path, she stopped herself. Thinking like that was what had gotten her in trouble in the first place.

DeadBloods were not fathers. They were fighters of beasts.

She had to keep that in mind at all times.

Tyr turned to her. “You charmed the warlock’s door?”

Sal nodded. She hadn’t so much “charmed” it, as asked the door to not open for anyone else. Lionel had wanted to install a bunch of high tech security measures, but against a beast or his minion, they would have been easily thwarted. A door wanted to open. That was one if its purposes.

Sal had kindly and simply asked that the door perform one of its other functions. To block entry.

It looked like it had worked so far. But even a stubborn door could not stand up to full on blood magic, and if the guy reeked this badly, he must have been pulling out some serious mojo.

* * *

Tyr slowed his pace as they came upon the beast’s familiar. From the back he looked like any man. Long brown hair, dressed in a dirty white T-shirt and the pants that Salista called “jeans.”

This was no ordinary man though. This man was smashing vial after vial of blood against the door. Yet it stood stout, not bending to the man’s will. The door must really have liked Salista to stand up to this much blood magic and not budge.

Tyr carefully pulled his blade from its scabbard. He pulled another short blade from his belt. He handed the smaller of the two to Alex, but the young man passed it to Salista.

Clearly he did not understand what DeadBlood meant. It would be up to Tyr to teach him.

“Stay back,” Tyr whispered to the other two. Salista nodded. Alex seemed too shocked to respond.

Before Tyr could spring his trap, the door opened, but from the inside and Lionel walked out unwittingly upon the scene.

“Kurtis?” Lionel said, his face warping in horror. “What the hell happened—”

Kurtis was Kurtis no more though, and the half-man, half-beast opened his mouth wide, revealing a set of long fangs. He went to bite Lionel in the neck. Tyr could not let that happen.

Tyr did not like striking from behind. It was cowardly. He preferred to look the beast in the eye when he slayed him. Tyr did not have time for that now.

Arching his sword high, Tyr planted the blade into who was previously Kurtis’ back. An inhuman scream blasted from the part-beast. Lionel screamed as well, falling over, trying to scramble away. Salista grabbed the warlock and pulled him to safety.

Pulling out the blade, the half-man slumped to the ground. Mortally wounded, but not yet dead. Tyr turned him over. Salista gasped behind him. The man was no more. His pupils were a slit with his face covered in fur. His ears had migrated up his scalp and now rested on top, swiveling like a cat’s.

This is what blood magic did when used to evil ends. It made you as evil on the outside as you were on the inside.

Tyr stood over the beast’s servant. Although with how tainted the man was, he would not be able to help much longer. Already his nails were turning into claws. Soon, very soon, if left unchecked, the man would have stooped over and walked on all fours. A man no more, but a full beast.

Blood dribbled from the servant’s lips. He chuckled, bringing pink froth to his lips. “You will never catch him. He will emerge victorious as always.”

“Where is he?” Tyr demanded.

“Never,” the servant hissed.

“Speak his location,” Tyr barked, issuing an edict.

This servant was as weak-willed as Tyr thought. His lower lips trembled as the words formed on his lips. “Fisherman’s wharf,” the servant said, biting his own lip to try and stop himself.

Tyr looked to Salista. “Do you know of this place?”

The witch nodded as he brushed Lionel off. “It’s not far.”

Good.

What to do with Kurtis though? He would die, of that there was no doubt. Not even the witch’s ministrations could save him. Not without HeartsBlood. And they would not waste a single drop upon this cursed man.

So, to leave him to die a slow and painful death, or to kill him swiftly and mercifully now?

Tyr raised his sword again.

“No!” Lionel yelled and ran between Tyr and the servant.

“He dies,” Tyr stated.

“I know, I know,” Lionel said, “but I’ve been experimenting with my gel.”

Tyr ground his teeth. Those experiments were ultimately what caused the plague of beasts in the first place.

“What kind of experiments?” Salista asked.

“After hearing of the descent,” Lionel stated, “I started wondering if there might not be a way to create a type of ascent.”

“You mean reverse the effects of the intent? Turn beast to man?” Salista asked.

That was impossible. Many had tried and all had failed. Dyn was one of them that tried and always with horrific results.

“There is only sorrow in that folly,” Tyr explained.

“My gel amplifies intent, but slightly modified, it can also be a sink for it,” Lionel said, opening the door. “Please, hurry. We need to get him to my lab.”

Salista grabbed the servant’s arms. “Help us,” she said.

It was not an edict, yet her soft words moved his feet immediately. He nodded to Alex. “Get his other foot.”

The young man seemed loath to come forward. “Now,” Tyr barked. Also not an edict, but close. It got the young man’s feet moving. Quickly they carried the servant through the door and down the hallway and into Lionel’s lab.

They laid the servant upon a cold metal table. Lionel wheeled a cart over that held a large vat of clear gel. The servant’s breath was ragged and shallow.

“Put his hand in, quickly,” Lionel urged.

Salista did as instructed. The gel that came into contact with the man’s skin, turned red, however the near claws softened and became nails once more. The servant thrashed and moaned, trying to pull his arm from the gel.

“No!”

Tyr was not sure if the servant simply did not want to change back or if the process hurt. Perhaps the half-beast did not deserve to become a man again. He had made his choice to descend.

“Keep it in there!” Lionel said. “I’m going to turn on the current.”

Salista struggled to keep the man’s hand in the gel as her brother backed away. Tyr grabbed the young man by the collar and shoved him forward.

“Help your sister,” Tyr demanded.

“What, what,” Alex said with a gulp. “What’s happening?”

* * *

Sal herself was not exactly sure, however she had much more of an idea than Alex.

“Remember when we told you that if LiveBloods manipulate intent, they become corrupted?”

Looking like the young schoolboy he should have been, Alex nodded.

“Well this gel is trying to pull the corrupted intent out of him and bring him back as human.”

“But what does the current have to do with anything?” Alex asked.

“Heck if I know,” Sal stated looking to Lionel.

The scientist flipped a few switches and the gel crackled as a weak current flowed through it. Kurtis though, screamed, crying, kicking.

“Hold him!” Lionel yelled a little like a mad scientist in a black and white movie, only he was Asian.

Tyr helped keep Kurtis on the table. It was amazing to think this was the Crusader she first met on Alcatraz Island. Already back then, he had been working for the beast. Luring Lionel to the prison so that the beast could extract the formula’s composition from the physicist’s mind.

Since the guy had kind of tried to kill Sal, she really wasn’t all that sympathetic to his plight now. If he were to die, it would best be as a man.

Finally Kurtis gave up the struggle, flopping back down on the metal table.

“Is he… is he dead?” Alex asked sounding much younger than his seventeen years.

Sal checked Kurtis’ pulse. It was thready, but there. “No, he’s just unconscious.”

“Look,” Lionel said, pointing to Kurtis’ face. “It worked.”

The physicist was right. Kurtis’ ears were back down where they were supposed to be. On the side of his head, and skin now covered his face rather than fur.

He was human again.

Sal stroked Kurtis’ hair back. You would never know that just a few minutes ago he was nearly a beast. Still, blood poured out his back wound, making the table slick.

“How about another experiment?” Sal asked Lionel. “The pseudo HeartsBlood?”

“No,” Tyr said. “We cannot spare any.”

“No,” Sal replied. “Not real HeartsBlood. I think we’ve made a substitute.”

Tyr’s eyes narrowed as his lips pursed. She could practically read his mind. He would say it was impossible, however her beta testing on low risk patients at the hospital were saying quite another thing.

“At the least, it won’t hurt to try,” she coaxed.

Tyr gave the slightest nod for her to continue, although she noticed that he had drawn his sword again.

Lionel handed Sal the solution. Using all of her medical knowledge, Sal thought of how she wanted the solution to act. She needed it first to act as an anticoagulant. Stopping the bleeding from the sharp force trauma of Tyr’s blade. Then she needed the solution to seal the torn lung to keep the air in the lungs instead of the chest cavity.

Was it her imagination or was Kurtis breathing better? Was his color pinker than ash at this point? She continued painting the solution on with a small art brush they had bought at the craft store. So much for sterility. However if the solution could staunch a major arterial bleed, Sal was pretty sure that it wouldn’t let the wound get infected.

After a few moments, even the skin was healed and the scar faded until you could barely tell where the wound had been.

Before them all lay a healthy man.

Kurtis’ eyes flew open and he gasped, his hand flying to his back, but when he drew it out, his hand was clean.

He looked to his palm, turning his hand over, checking his nails.

“How?”

Lionel punched Kurtis in the arm. “We should have you arrested, you jerk!”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Kurtis protested. “He made me do it.”

* * *

While the others seemed more than a little amazed at what they had done, Tyr was unimpressed. “There is always a choice.”

The man was weak willed. He chose to be enslaved rather than die. He would make the same choice again.

“We must be away,” Tyr said, disgusted by the man in front of him. After all that had happened, he still could not take responsibility for what he had done.

“Don’t you understand what this means?” Salista stated.

Tyr only glared. He doubted he wanted to know what the witch said.

“It means you don’t have to kill beasts anymore. We can turn them back.”

“And will that make them any less guilty?” Tyr asked. “Will it breath life back into their victims?”

“No,” Salista said, “but then they won’t be as dangerous.”

“They are less dangerous, dead,” Tyr commented.

Salista frowned. “We could save your brother.”

Tyr stiffened. Out of all the beasts that had ever descended in the history of blood magic, his brother deserved to be saved the least.

“He had made his choices,” Tyr informed Salista. “And I have made mine.”

Salista opened her mouth, then her eyes darted to their audience and she snapped it closed again. “We can discuss this later.”

“After we apprehend the beast,” Tyr said, hoping that his words would get them moving.

“What do we do with him?” Lionel said.

This was why one clean blow to the neck was the simpler solution.

“Dudes, I will so just disappear. Go back to the Bronx. Just let me go and ‘poof.’”

“He has tasted power,” Tyr commented. “What is to stop him from dabbling again, only this time emboldened by the knowledge that we can reverse the descent?”

By the look on everyone else’s face, it was clear they had not considered the darker ramifications of their actions.

“I won’t. I promise. I pinkie promise,” Kurtis swore, hopping off the table and onto his knees. He held out his pinkie.

Tyr was not sure what a pinkie promise entailed, but he was certain he did not want to be a part of one.

“What is to stop him from contacting the beast and giving him forewarning we are advancing on his position?”

Salista sighed. “We can’t illegally imprison him. So either we turn him over to the cops for my assault or we let him go.”

“I swear. I went to the dark side and let me tell you, they did not have cookies!” Kurtis exclaimed. “Crime does not pay, my friends. I have learned my lesson.”

Tyr drew his blade, the metal whistling as it came from his scabbard. Not just Kurtis cringed. He held the sword to the servant’s neck. “The next time, the witch will not be able to stay my blade. Do we have an accord?”

Kurtis nodded his head so vigorously that he nicked himself on the sharp metal. “Totally an accord. Signed, sealed and delivered.”

Withdrawing his blade, Kurtis rubbed at his neck. “Hey, can I get a little dab of that solution?”

“No,” said everyone in the room, even Alex.

* * *

Alex was trying to keep his cool, he really was. He didn’t even know what was happening, but no way that guy was even getting a Band-Aid. What Alex had seen in the last hour went against everything he’d been taught in school and even church. Mom would be so mad if she knew that Salista was some kind of practicing witch.

The gang thing, that had been a trip and a little bit exciting, but this? The guy trembling in front of them had been part animal, not a few minutes ago. Never mind that he was also half dead.

Everyone else was so calm and collected. This appeared to happen to Tyr every day. And even his do right, goody two shoes sister was nonplussed by the events. Clearly she’d known about this for a while and had kept it a secret. Salista involved in something clandestine? That fact seemed nearly as impossible as everything else that had happened.

Even the black-rimmed glasses-wearing science geek didn’t seem to mind that some wanna be super glue had just cured a dying man.

To prove Alex’s point, Tyr spun on his heel, heading for the door. Salista followed close behind. Lionel hung back, standing next to Kurtis.

“Dude, keep your word,” the scientist said to the recovered half-cat guy. “Next time it is the great video game parlor in the sky.”

“You know it, man. Thanks.” Kurtis held out his hand but Lionel didn’t shake it.

“Just don’t go all Sith on me again,” Lionel said and pulled Kurtis into a bro hug.

Alex turned away giving them some privacy.

“Pupil,” Tyr barked. Alex assumed that meant him and hurried out of the laboratory. He noticed the Salista was putting small packs of the solution into her computer bag. One for the road kind of thing.

His stomach turned at the thought. Salista expected them to need some pretty serious healing. Which meant some pretty serious fighting. Sure, Alex had been jumped into the Valencianos, but he’d just had to hold up a bodega to get in. Even then, he’d used a banana in his pocket rather than a gun. Only his buddy Felix had known and he’d kept quiet about it so Alex wouldn’t get into trouble with the gang for being such a pussy.

And now not just Tyr, but Salista expected him to go up against a beast? No, thank you very much. He’d seen a half beast and that had been enough.

Alex caught up with his sister and the big fella. The guy’s leather creaked with each step. He really did seem like he leapt from a history book. Or like he was an extra on Game of Thrones who had wandered off of set.

Salista pulled out her computer and spoke. “Find us the best route to Fishermen’s wharf.”

Clearly his sister was tripping, thinking they were in a Star Trek movie or something. However, the computer brought up a map with the route highlighted.

What the hell?

Before he could ask, Tyr tossed him the short sword, which seemed plenty long enough to Alex.

“Get used to the weight. Understand its balance point. Know it like you know your own arm,” Tyr said. “We will teach you footwork when we can pause, but for now do not put that sword down until I instruct you to.”

Alex swung it a few times. Not bad. He looked to his sister who frowned, but didn’t say anything. Salista silent on a subject? It couldn’t be true. The woman had a strong opinion about everything.

“You’re down with this?” he asked.

“No, but out of all the crappy options, this is the best one.”

“Really? Miss Preachy? Violence was the weak man’s solution? Use your brains not your brawn?”

Was that red that came to Salista’s cheeks?

“This is different. This is war.” Salista said as Tyr glared at her.

“Weak?” the tall man asked.

Salista put her hand on her hip. “You saw those gang members. They create violence just to create violence.”

“There is no negotiating with a beast,” Tyr stated.

“Exactly,” Salista said turning back to Alex. “Which is the difference. This is war with an unyielding aggressor. You aren’t playing at being a warrior. You need to become a warrior.”

Did he just hear right? This was not the Salista he had grown up with. First of all, what kind of relationship had she had with this guy? Was this why she’d broken off the engagement with that stiff psychiatrist? What in the hell had happened while he was off in juvie?

“Or?” Alex asked. “What if I’m not cut out for this?”

“Then you die,” Tyr stated rather bluntly. Alex noticed that his sister didn’t contradict him.

Alex took in a breath. This was real. More real than when the Valencino gang cornered him and forced him to jump in. He’d thought that was the low point of his life. Little did he know, eh?

“Who’s going to die?” Lionel asked trotting to catch up with the group.

“That would be me,” Alex said, swishing the sword again finding it awfully heavy for a “short sword.”

“Um, yah,” Lionel said. “You better get up to speed fast.”

Great. Even the nerd thought he was going to die.

CHAPTER 4

Sal was wedged in the back of the cab between her brother and Tyr.

“Dang, Salista, do you want to sit on my lap or what?” Alex complained.

She was just trying to not come into contact with Tyr. His broad shoulders rubbed up against hers, reminding her body of what it felt like to be with him. Sal couldn’t stop the intense flashbacks of their one time in her bed. Clearly, her body wanted a repeat performance.

Tyr on the other hand seemed wholly unaffected by their close proximity. Per usual his eyes bore ahead to the path they traveled. The man didn’t seem to even look back. To ever reflect on his past actions or feelings. But that’s what a DeadBlood did, right?

Sal glanced to her brother. Is that what she wanted for him? To become a soulless fighter? To never know love or kinship? She guessed they would cross that bridge when they came to it. Right now they needed all the DeadBloods they could get.

She remembered the last time the beast came to her world. The body count had stacked up into the dozens. What would it be this time?

The cab pulled up to the curb of Pier 39. The blue dot on her laptop’s map flashed. They were here. This was ground zero for tourists in the city. There were shops of every type down the long pier. Including a year-round Christmas shop. The amount of money spent along this long, narrow, open-aired mall was obscene.

Then some of the more adventurous tourists would walk down the road to the true Fisherman’s Wharf where the boats came in and unloaded their fish. Half a dozen five-star seafood restaurants lined the wharf. In theory, you could watch the fish travel from the boat onto your plate. There were very few places in the world you could say that was true.

When these restaurants said “fresh” seafood. They meant straight from the water, this morning.

Sal had thought Tyr would want to go straight to the wharf, but he’d indicated that he wanted to stop nearby before heading to the wharf, so here they were at Pier 39.

It was late, so most of the crowds were gone, however there was a late night saloon half way down the pier that still spilled tourists out. There was another all-night store at the end of the pier that lured late night revelers.

“So what’s the plan?” Sal asked.

Tyr didn’t immediately respond. Instead he gazed out over the water toward the Wharf. He took in several deep breaths then turned to Alex.

“What do you smell?”

Alex closed his eyes and flared his nostrils, inhaling deeply. “Fear, but not as much as before.”

“Man or woman?” Tyr asked.

Salista thought that was a little unfair. Alex was so new to this, but her little brother took in another breath. “Woman.”

Tyr nodded with the slightest grin. “Correct. Why do you think she is not as afraid as Kurtis?”

“There is another scent. Strong. Musky,” Alex said.

The boy always had a good nose. They used to joke that her younger brother could tell three blocks away if their mother was making empanadas. Now, Sal knew the reason why. DeadBloods apparently had a great sense of smell.

“That would be the beast,” Tyr responded to Alex. “I believe she is under an edict. Unlike Kurtis, who was acting alone and of his own volition.”

Tyr glanced to Sal. She could only assume in rebuke. Yes, Kurtis had been a douche, but she truly believed he had learned his lesson. Or was she just hoping he had? What if he did betray him?

She shivered in the late night air, forcing that thought back, so far back that she didn’t think it again.

“If this woman is, in fact, under an edict, she would have very little fear since she is not acting of her own will,” Tyr explained.

Alex nodded.

“Now, what are they doing?” Tyr asked her brother.

Alex’s lips turned down, but again he closed his eyes and took in a breath. “I can’t tell.”

Tyr tilted his head. “Can’t tell or do not want to venture a guess?”

Alex frowned again and took in another breath. “The smell of fish is nearly overwhelming. It is like they are sorting through a bunch of fish.”

Sal looked to Tyr for confirmation. Tyr nodded. “Why would they be sorting through fish?”

Tyr shrugged. “What reason does the beast have for doing anything?”

“I know that you have a disdain for the beasts,” Sal said, “But your brother has shown an amazing capacity for reason and long term planning. If he is taking the time and resources to sort through fish, it is for a reason.”

* * *

Tyr bit back a retort. How he wished that Salista was not correct. He had underestimated his brother several times already and they had paid in blood. Tyr had to shed all of his years of training and accept the fact that even though Vitalis had gone over to the beast, his human mind was still intact. He was capable of not just a predatory cunning, but of complex thought. Tyr needed to think of his brother more as a man than a beast.

That was most uncomfortable.

“Is there any blood magic that requires fish or fish oil?”

“Then it would be called fish magic, would it not?” Tyr shot back, immediately regretting the sharp words. It was not Salista he was upset with, but himself. He should know what Vitalis was planning, not having to grope to discern a beast’s intent.

“We’ve found that certain chemicals can enhance the gel’s properties,” Salista continued, even though her tone sounded wounded. “We haven’t experimented with fish yet, but I thought maybe you knew of one.”

Lionel stepped forward. “She’s right. Fish oils are very biologically active, they would be great potentiates. We should have thought of that. I’d love to see what they could do.”

Tyr groaned. He should have known from the start. “What types of fish are in the warehouse?”

“I don’t know,” Salista replied, but then got her scrying box out and typed in a few words, then answered, “Trout? Salmon? Tuna?”

“Flounder?” Tyr asked.

“Maybe?” Salista said as she scrolled down the screen. “I’m not sure. Why?”

“Flounder eyes can be used to help mask your presence,” Tyr explained. “They could make the beast invisible to DeadBloods.”

“Fish eyes can make you invisible?” Alex asked.

“Not exactly,” Tyr answered. “In line of sight you are plain as day. However it masks their activities from our other senses.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Alex complained. “Shouldn’t fish eyes make you see better?”

Tyr shook his head. It was amazing how little the young DeadBlood knew. There would be much instruction on the road. “No, for the most part Blood Magic works in opposition. Eyes blind. Fear strengthens.”

“That’s weird,” Alex stated.

“No, that is Praxis,” Tyr corrected.

Salista brought his attention back to the task at hand. “But why would he want to cloud your sight?”

“To move with impunity,” Tyr responded.

“Yes, I get that,” Salista said. “But why now? He didn’t seem to care before.”

“I do not know, but we had best apprehend him before he completes his task.”

* * *

Sal stayed behind Tyr. Would the beast recognize her scent? She could only imagine he carried quite the grudge. Alcatraz had gotten rather nasty. The acrid smell of burnt flesh still stung her nose.

Alex and Lionel were behind her. She had to give Alex credit. He still had the short sword in hand. Sal doubted the kid had stuck with anything this long his entire life. To say that Alex had a bit of ADHD was like saying the beast was a little bit ferocious.

Lionel had his tablet out, which for a physicist was like having a sword. Information was his weapon of choice.

Tyr stopped so abruptly in front of her, Sal nearly barreled into him. Alex bumped into her back as they stopped.

“What’s wrong?”

It was Alex who answered. “We can’t smell him anymore. He must have found the flounder.”

“Should we stop?” Sal asked.

“No, it is of little consequence. We must find the beast.”

“Hang on,” Lionel said. “I think I may have found a way to track them?”

Tyr snorted. “With your witchcraft?”

Lionel chuckled though. “Yep.”

Tyr’s eyes narrowed. “How?”

“I figure that if the beast has a human accomplice, then she probably has a cell phone. And the beast isn’t too hip on our timeline, so he wouldn’t think to have her turn it off or pull the battery.”

The way Tyr’s eyes glazed over, neither did he.

“What Lionel is saying is that he can track them through her phone.” Sal pulled hers out and showed him.

“Your scrying box can find your voice portals?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Lionel said. “Yes.”

“Show me,” Tyr responded.

Sal had to give it to Tyr, he rolled with it. He might not fully understand something, but he was so pragmatic. If a scrying box he didn’t understand could find a voice portal he didn’t understand, he was down with that. No fussing. No questioning. Just “show me.”

She might learn a thing or two from that.

Lionel spun his tablet around to reveal a map of the Wharf. A blue dot moved through the warehouse.

“I think they are heading for the exit that leads to the street,” Lionel explained, “Right over there.”

Sal turned to find a nondescript door at the end of the warehouse. Were a beast and his accomplice going to burst out of there at any second?

“I will take the roof,” Tyr said then indicated to Alex. “You will guard the way back into the wharf.”

“Me?” Alex squeaked.

Tyr put hands on Alex’s shoulder. “You are DeadBlood. Trust yourself and your blood will do the rest. You were born to fight beasts.”

Alex didn’t look quite so convinced, and why should he? There weren’t even supposed to be beasts in this time frame. At least not yet.

Sal went to support her brother, but Alex nodded, gulping. If he was going to step up, she wasn’t going to stop him. Funny. For so long she’d been worried about the violence of gangs. Those were paltry fears compared to what waited in the cannery.

“You two stay back,” Tyr said as he headed to the door.

She had learned her lesson many, many times. She would stay back, as much as she wanted to be by Tyr’s side.

* * *

Tyr drew his blade as his hand hovered over the doorknob. With a slight motion of his wrist, the knob turned and the door creaked open. The vast warehouse seemed empty. He could no longer smell the beast or his companion. That did not, of course, mean they were not here.

This beast, his brother, was clever. Too clever by far. And all for what? To rule the world. A world decimated by his own treachery. Why did men and beasts seek power so? Could it really fill the void in the chest? Tyr did not think so, since no amount of power seemed to satisfy these beasts. It was a hunger that could never be satiated.

So here they were. Hunting his brother who could not face a life without a kingdom of his own. How proud his father must have been. To sire not just a DeadBlood, but a beast as well.

Tyr stepped into the cannery, nearly overwhelmed by the stench of dead fish. It permeated every last molecule of air in the vast room. He tried breathing through his mouth, but then he could taste the fish.

He had been born to a seaside kingdom, but that did not mean he liked this stench one bit.

A clang echoed off the high ceiling. Tyr turned to the left and followed the sound. It might have been meant to bait him, but Tyr would take any clue at this point.

Then the red glow of the beast infused the air. He might try to blind Tyr with the fish eye magic, but his own evil would give him away each and every time. A figure moved lithely through the shadows. His human accomplice.

Tyr knew of this trick though. Often the beast would send his minion out to lure the DeadBlood away from the beast. Like a starling luring a predator from its chicks.

He ignored the human who headed to the northern door. The accomplice was of little use. The beast did not usually divulge his plan to them so they were of little use once captured.

Tyr kept his senses alert for the beast.

Only at the last second did he realize the beast was high above him in the stainless steel equipment.

With a roar, the beast launched. Tyr spun on his heel, his sword up and ready. The beast realized mid-leap that he was undone. Mid-air, aided by blood magic, the beast twisted, and cleared a large conveyer belt, landing on the far side.

With a resounding shout, Tyr charged the belt, jumping at the last second, clamping his hand on the steel railing, launching himself over the belt and hot on the beast’s tail.

Literally. The tufted end swished in front of him.

Tyr slashed with his sword, cutting off a few hairs. He was so close.

Unfortunately his bow and arrow were back with Hunter in his time. He had only his sword and knife.

Knife.

Still running full speed, Tyr leaned over and pulled his knife from his boot. Taking aim, he flung the blade into air, hitting the beast right between the shoulder blades. Unfortunately the knife was short and did not penetrate far through the beast’s thick skin.

Still it was rewarding to hear the beast roar with frustration. After a few strides, the blade fell from his back, clanking on the cement floor. Tyr could not stop to retrieve it.

Suddenly the beast stopped and turned on Tyr. It was a most unexpected move. A dagger-like claw cut across Tyr’s path. Tyr tried to stop, but it was no use, he had too much momentum.

Instead he dropped, crashing against the hard cement, leaning back until he felt his knees would break, but the claws swept over him, leaving him unscathed. Tyr was in a poor position to counter strike. His only option was to roll to his side then spring to his feet. By then, the beast had fled deep into the shadows.

Sword up and ready for use, Tyr ran into the darkness.

CHAPTER 5

Alex stood guard. Well, he was standing, he wasn’t quite sure how on guard he was. He was shivering. It was cold out, but not that cold. The tip of his short sword bounced back and forth as his body quivered.

He stared so hard at that door that every time he blinked, he could have sworn that the damn thing was opening.

Ah, to be back in the gang again. Where it was relatively safe.

A rat scrambled out from a pile of crates, squeaking, nearly sending Alex into a fit. Stupid rat. What was it doing with a beast out? But these wharf rats were ballsy. At least once a summer some tourist’s kid was bitten by one. They weren’t afraid of anything. Perhaps he could borrow some balls from them.

Alex tilted his head, was that a sound? Did he hear fast footsteps approaching from inside? Or was it just his mind playing tricks on him? At this point he would rather have something happen rather than wait for something to happen.

Of course, once the door blasted open and a figure ran out, Alex wanted to go back to waiting. The woman had long blonde hair that flashed in the moonlight.

“Stop!” Alex yelled. He wished it had been an edict, but he wasn’t even sure what an edict was, let alone how to issue one.

The woman didn’t stop. If anything she picked up speed. The chick was in shape with a tight behind as she turned the corner, heading deeper into the wharf.

That was the one thing Tyr hadn’t wanted. The one thing that Alex was supposed to prevent.

So, sword in both hands, Alex ran after her. “Stop!”

Dang she was really, really in shape. Good thing he lettered in track. Well, he would have lettered if he hadn’t dropped out of high school. Still Alex kicked into a higher gear and nearly caught up with her.

Unfortunately that was right about when she pulled a gun and aimed at him.

“Duck!” his sister screamed from somewhere.

Alex dove to the ground, scraping his chin on the wooden planks of the dock. His ears rang as a set of shots fired above his head.

He’d been in a gang over six months and had avoided being shot at. He was a DeadBlood a couple of hours and already was the target of gunfire. The woman turned and started running again.

Alex scurried to his feet, giving chase, although not quite as eager to be on her tail. He needed time to hit the deck again if she turned and fired. Luckily she didn’t seem too skilled with the firearm to be able to shoot and run.

If he didn’t catch up with her soon, though, she could easily disappear into the maze of buildings that made up the wharf. There were dozens of warehouses and canneries to get lost in.

“Stop,” Alex cried again, knowing it would probably be about as useless as the last two times.

Then Salista came out of nowhere, tackling the woman. The two tumbled to the ground. The woman’s blond hair spilling over Salista’s dark hair. The women rolled on the ground until a shot split the night air.

“Salista!” Alex cried, rushing to the women.

His sister rose, blood all over her shirt.

“It’s not me,” she said. “It’s her.”

Alex breathed out a sigh of relief. Tyr would have killed him if he’d let Salista get shot.

“Who is it?” Lionel asked, turning the woman over.

Salista took in a sharp breath, backing away. Her hand over her mouth.

* * *

“No,” Sal moaned at the downed woman. “It can’t be…

Lionel smoothed the woman’s hair over. “Who is it?”

“Stacy,” Sal stated. How could it be Stacy? She should be on shift at the hospital, but there she lay. Her breathing shallow and her face pale.

Tyr walked out from the cannery. “The beast escaped.”

Sal looked up meeting Tyr’s eyes, then glanced down at Stacy. Even he did a double take at the beast’s accomplice.

“This is my fault,” he breathed out.

“What do you mean?” she asked as she found the bullet wound in Stacy’s side and put pressure on it. Behind her Lionel was calling 911.

“Once under the influence of an edict, a person is more susceptible to them in the future.”

Of course that edict was the one that broke her heart. And here was proof he had issued an edict. None of that betrayal in the resident’s room had been on Stacy. It had all been Tyr, but of course it had been Tyr. He was DeadBlood and needed heartbroken blood. Had he ever cared for her? Had their lovemaking been a set up from the beginning? How far had the deception gone?

Had this been a cold-hearted calculation to break her heart from the moment they laid eyes on one another?

Sal could feel the ache again. That shattering inside her chest. All of her hopes and dreams swept away by a tsunami of betrayal.

“That means I’m in danger?” Alex asked.

It was Lionel that answered. “Yes, as am I, however I believe we were both only affected by hold edicts. Action-activated edicts put you at greater risk, right?”

Tyr nodded. “He must have smelled my influence on her.”

“Alex, lift her legs,” Sal ordered. Her brother looked confused but did as asked. They needed to get all that blood from her lower extremities to Stacy’s heart. She looked to Lionel. “How long until the ambulance?”

“Five minutes.”

If Stacy’s grey lips and shallow pulse were any indication, Stacy did not have five minutes. Sal took out the vial of artificial HeartsBlood solution. Tyr grabbed her hand.

“Be careful with that witch. We may need it later.”

Sal snatched her hand back. Tyr’s touch still painful. “This is our fault,” Sal retorted. “I can’t just let her die.”

Tyr took a step back. “The beast is fleeing. We must give chase.”

“Really?” Sal snapped. “Do you know where he went? Can you even smell him?”

Obviously not used to being challenged like that, Tyr took another step back and looked down at his boots.

“Okay, then,” Sal said softer. “Let me fix Stacy, and we’ll be on our way.”

Sal didn’t wait to see if Tyr agreed with her or not, she simply opened the vial and let a drop slip out. She wasn’t crazy after all. The solution hit right in the center of the bullet wound. The flesh around it began to ungulate, tightening, healing. Within moments the resident’s color improved and her vital signs stabilized. One drop didn’t cure her, but it did stabilize her. She would last those five minutes.

A siren wailed in the distance, the sound echoed off the water.

“We must leave,” Tyr stated.

This time Sal didn’t argue. It felt wrong to leave a patient halfway through treatment, but these were extraordinary circumstances. She’d saved Stacy’s life. That would have to be enough.

As Sal tried to rise, Stacy gripped her hand. “Sal?” she asked, blurry eyed.

“Yes,” Sal said patting Stacy’s hand. “It’s okay, the ambulance is almost here.”

And she wasn’t lying. The sirens were getting closer and closer. You could also tell by the level of Tyr’s annoyance. He paced behind them. His heels hitting hard on the wood planks of the dock.

“My phone,” Stacy said, licking her lips. “Get my phone.”

Lionel dug around in the pocket of Stacy’s hoodie and fished out her cellphone.

Stacy seemed content once Lionel turned it on. Her eyes closed and she released Sal’s hand. Sal rose wondering what that was all about.

“Look,” Lionel said. “There’s a destination marked.”

Alex looked over the physicist’s shoulder. ”Wait!” The teen grabbed the phone. “Sal look.”

Her brother was going to have to tone down his hysterics if he was going to roll with this crowd. Too much crap happened to lose a gasket every few seconds.

“What?” Sal demanded.

But then Sal’s stomach lurched. The address blinking bright red was her mother’s. It even had the apartment number correct.

“This… this…” she stammered.

“Speak,” Tyr demanded.

“This is my mother’s place,” Sal finally managed to get out. “Why would he want my mother?”

“Why would he not? She has delivered into the world one of the most acute LiveBloods and an absolute DeadBlood.”

That did not make Sal feel any better.

“Come on!” Alex said, backpedaling down the wooden wharf. “We’ve got to go!”

Sal knew that was true, but she couldn’t help but look down at Stacy. The resident had done this. She had helped the beast find Sal’s mother. Even under an edict, how could she?

Stacy’s eyes fluttered open. “I’m so sorry.”

Was that enough? Was it enough that the resident made sure they had her phone?

Sal turned on her heel. All of those questioned hinged on whether or not they got to her mother in time.

* * *

Alex had to breath into a paper bag that Lionel had given him. The physicist was turning out to be a real homie. Alex had almost passed out from hyperventilating. The beast was after his mom. That was wrong. Like down in your bone marrow kind of wrong.

Sure he and his mom had issues, but she was his mom.

Salista’s lips were also pursed. His sister sat next to him in the cab. Which, like any other cab in San Francisco, was driven by a maniac. He didn’t need any kind of edict to hurry.

As a matter of fact, the guy laid on the horn as they cut off another cab. They were hauling ass down Columbus Ave, angling from the Wharf, past the Embarcadero toward the Mission District.

They were almost there.

The horn sounded again, jangling Alex down to his ligaments. His bones grated against each other every time the cabbie hit the blasted horn. They passed California Street. They passed Pine Street. Next was Market. The next major intersection should be Mission Street.

The cabbie ran a red light, making a left hand turn on Mission. This time it was everyone else’s horns that honked like a symphony at the cabbie’s, bold, illegal move.

Still, as fast as they were moving, they weren’t there yet. His mom lived in the old school mission district. Like old school. Down by the Tenderloin and south of Market area. That way his mom could walk to her favorite bodega and Mexican butcher, Mia Tierra.

How many times had he complained when she’d made him run down to Mia’s for some calf’s tongue or goat liver?

To think of his tiny Mexican mother cowering under the roaring beast made his bladder feel weak. They were just lucky he hadn’t had an accident yet.

Tyr was out of the cab before it came to a complete stop. Sal wasn’t far behind, which left Lionel and he to tumble out of the cab. Alex’s Van sneakers slipped on the slick San Franciscan sidewalk. He nearly face planted, but Lionel had his elbow and helped him stay upright.

Tyr blew the apartment building’s doors wide open with a command. They all rushed through. Salista hit the elevator button, rattling it. The ancient elevator though did not seem to care about their hurry.

The big guy charged to the staircase and took the steps three at a time. Everyone else followed, albeit a bit slower. To think this guy was flat out dying on Salista’s apartment floor not a few hours ago.

The guy had stamina.

He hit the fifth floor landing, kicking the door open.

“Apartment 517!” Salista shouted out, panting, grabbing the railing to stabilize herself. That made Alex not feel so bad about being so light headed and winded. Lionel though was bringing up the rear. Apparently physicists didn’t get to the gym very often.

Tyr made it to the door ahead of all of them. Alex watched as he reared back as if to kick in the door, then stopped and charged into the apartment.

Which was not good. Not good at all. That meant the door was open. Which meant that the beast was already inside with his mother.

Like he said, not good.

CHAPTER 6

Sal heard Tyr’s war cry and ran faster than she ever felt capable of. She leapt over the threshold into her mother’s apartment to find her mother standing on the back of the couch, using her walking cane as a weapon and her oxygen hosing as a whip.

“Salista!” her mother shouted, “Get back.”

Why she’d been worried about her in the first place was beyond Sal. Of course she could take on a beast. Her mother had lived in the Mission District all her life. It probably didn’t surprise her one bit when she found a beast in her apartment. She had probably thought it was some kind of gang initiation.

Tyr raised his sword as the beast reared back.

What did Vitalis want with her mother? Sal knew that Tyr thought her unique in her children but how did that help the beast?

Tyr swung as the beast lashed out, cutting her mother’s throat. Her mother’s hand flew to her neck, but blood still gushed from the wound. Tyr’s blade was a moment too late, slashing at the beast’s haunches. The DeadBlood drew a broad line of black across the beast’s fur.

The beast roared in pain, yet did not turn to fight Tyr. His sword arching back around, Tyr prepared to take another swing.

Sal wished she could do something. She had a full vial of intent, but she knew that she could not use it while she was this afraid. It would corrupt her if she tried. The beast lashed out again, this time though missing Sal’s mother and snagging the plastic couch cover instead. He jerked the cover off, knocking her mother off the back of the couch and onto the sofa itself.

“Mom!” Alex screamed running in past Sal. She tried to catch her brother, but he was skinny and apparently very, very fast when he wanted to be. He was past her like a ghost.

Tyr struck again at the beast, burying his blade into the beast’s flank. The beast roared again, dug his claws into the couch cover and leapt away. Tyr had to pull his blade out before he lost it.

The beast turned and bounded down the hallway toward the window at the end. What did he think he was going to do? They were five stories up?

Did it matter, as long as the beast was moving away?

Sal rushed to her mother, supporting her, checking the wound. It was gnarly but really not all that deep. It had hit the jugular, but not the carotid. The blood seeping through her mother’s fingers was dark and flowing, not bright red and spurting. The wound shouldn’t be fatal, even without HeartsBlood or the equivalent.

Luckily, Sal didn’t have to test that theory. She had the solution with her and used a drop at the edge of the wound, the middle of the wound and the top of it. This wasn’t Stacy. Sal would give her mother all of it if need be.

“You bastard!” Alex yelled at the fleeing beast.

Tyr’s brother turned on his haunches, flinching as he did so. Tyr had gotten in a few good licks.

“Alex, no!” she screamed, but her stupid brother decided to go all DeadBlood on them. He held up his short sword and charged down the hall. Tyr tried to intercept him as well, but couldn’t.

Sal looked down. Her mother’s neck had stopped bleeding and the skin was nearly completely mended.

Rising, Sal shouted. “She’s fine, Alex! She’s alive!”

Her brother stumbled to a stop and turned to look at her. “No lie?”

“No,” Sal said shaking her head. “Look its nearly healed.”

Unfortunately the beast also stopped and turned. He took in a deep breath, his eyes dilated. He must have just realized that Alex was DeadBlood. Faster than any beast, human or inhuman should be able to, the beast spun and came back down the hallway.

Alex had his sword up, which was the only reason he survived that first salvo. Tyr dove through the other doorway and hacked at the beast, apparently trying to keep the beast’s attention on him rather than her brother.

Unfortunately just like with her mother, the beast seemed intent on Alex, who stumbled back down the hallway.

“Run!” Sal screamed as Tyr was knocked back.

Alex tried, he really did, but the beast was just too quick. He was fueled by intent blood after all.

“No!” Sal cried, sure she was about to watch her brother eviscerated.

Instead though it was her mother. Somehow she’d gotten off the couch and gone the back way through the kitchen.

Just as the beast sprang at Alex, their mother bound from the tucked away doorway. The beast’s full blow caught her mid-air. The beast’s claws, this time, sunk deep into her mother’s belly.

Her mother didn’t even scream or cry. It was more of a loud exhalation.

Then the beast pulled back. Everything in her mother’s belly came out with it. He had to shake his paw to clear it of her mother’s entrails.

Sal had seen a lot, and she thought she was going to lose it. Alex fainted to the floor awash in their mother’s blood.

Tyr attacked, driving the beast back. Finally it turned and crashed through the window at the end of the hall.

Sal rushed forward, but her mother was already dead on the floor. How could she not be? The beast had torn her aorta in half.

Still she uncorked the healing solution. Lionel grabbed her wrist through.

“It only heals. It can’t bring her back, Salista.”

She knew that, but that knowledge wouldn’t have stopped her from pouring the entire vial into her mother’s belly, spending it all in a desperate attempt to resuscitate her mother.

“He is right,” Tyr boomed over her shoulder. Like she really wanted his opinion right about now.

* * *

Salista threw off the warlock’s hold, so it was up to Tyr to catch her wrist and stop her from wasting the precious fluid. No amount would save her mother. And if this night was any indication, they were going to need every drop in that vial.

“She is gone,” Tyr stated although that fact seemed clear.

Salista looked up at him, anguish in her eyes. He could remember the last time she had looked at him like that. The memory still cut to his soul.

“We must conserve, or die ourselves,” Tyr said, removing the vial from Salista’s hand.

He couldn’t imagine how she felt. She had not been born to this life and he did not have any family. He had no mother to miss. No father to mourn. Even Dyn, who was a father unto him, had his death etched in history. Of course his thane would die by the beast’s claw. It was foretold since his birth.

But here lay Salista’s mother. A woman who had never known the scourge of the beasts. A woman who had only been trying to protect her son.

And now her daughter had to grieve the woman.

Those shrill sirens sounded again. Tyr had no idea why the people of this time punished themselves in such a way. To hear that wailing day in and day out?

“We must go.”

“No!” Salista barked “We can’t leave her.”

“Ugh,” Alex said next to his sister, rising up on one elbow. “What happened?” Then he looked over and saw his mother again. The young man scrambled backwards, slipping on his mother’s blood. “No.”

“Yes,” Salista said swiping her hand, hitting her brother. “This is your fault. Yours!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Alex protested. “Who brought the beast into our lives in the first place, huh? Huh?”

Salista’s face clouded over. Tyr was going to need to intervene. Perhaps even put Salista over his shoulder. Which he knew would not go over well, but they had to be on their way. The beast had survived the fall. Actually it hadn’t been a fall at all. He had leapt from fire escape to fire escape to ground level. The beast was headed east.

Tyr might not be able to sense the beast, however Vitalis was now covered in Salista’s mother’s blood. He could track him that way.

Salista wasn’t done with her brother though, “If you hadn’t been such an idiot and --”

Surprisingly it was Lionel who stepped forward and spoke.

“Guys, it’s nobody but the beast’s fault,” he turned to Salista. “She’s your mom, I get it. But we’ve really got to get the hell out of here before the police show up, or more bodies are going to pile up.”

“Yah,” Alex snorted until Lionel turned on him as well. “And how about you become a fully-fledged DeadBlood before you go jumping in front of any beasts?”

The young man sagged back into himself.

“Let us away,” Tyr said, helping Salista up. She did not resist this time. A deep sob escaped her. He wished to pull her into his arms and give her some semblance of comfort there, but a beast was on the prowl. Many more children would be orphaned if they did not hurry.

“Where to?” Lionel asked.

“He has fled southwest,” Tyr answered.

The warlock tilted his head. “Why would he go that way? What is he after?”

“I know not,” Tyr admitted, “But we must intercept him.”

“Word,” Lionel said with a sage nod.

Tyr did not know what that meant, but at the least they were leaving this cursed abode. More than likely en route to another cursed abode, but his brother could not evade him forever. Tyr would finish Vitalis.

That he would set his word upon.

* * *

Sal felt numb and hyper-esthetic all at once. Every nerve ending felt on fire, yet there was a blanket of apathy over it all. How could this have happened? How could her mother have been eviscerated in front of her?

As the taxi drove along, the buildings blurring, Sal felt her heart shrink. For all her mother’s worries for her offspring, it had been she to succumb. This felt like Maria all over again.

How was she supposed to function when two of the most important people in the world had been stripped from her?

She glanced over to Alex, whose chin was on his chest. She shouldn’t have blamed him. Out of everyone in the cab, he was the least to blame.

What was it about humans that they had to fixate on blame? It was like a get out of jail free card. If you could find someone else to blame then you could excise it from your heart and pass it on.

Unfortunately it didn’t work that way.

The beast was to blame. That was squarely at his feet. But did that make the burden on her heart any less?

The cab slowed, then came to a stop. The cabbie turned off the engine and Tyr got out of the car with Alex, taking deep breaths. Tyr would even cluck his tongue, pressing the air into his vomeronasal organ.

Few people knew that in their hard palette where two nearly microscopic tunnels that lead up into a tiny organ that had nerves that went straight from it to the brain. Humans seldom used it. You found it more developed in cats and horses. Usually to sense estrus. Sal seriously doubted if Tyr was using his to find a mare in heat.

Instead he was searching for his brother, the beast. A LiveBlood who, after Tyr’s birth as a DeadBlood had been stripped of all his titles and cast out, never to marry or bear children. Tyr’s brother had turned to blood magic to salve his wounds. The blood magic had then corrupted his intent and caused him to descend into the beast he was today.

Sal shuddered, remembering what it felt like to have the beast’s tongue on her skin. His hot breath beating against her. Which of course had been part of Tyr’s plan to sacrifice her and her honor to lure the beast into a trap. Instead of a ring of protection, he’d laid out a ring of beast aphrodisiac.

So was it any wonder that later he betrayed her with Stacy to get her heartbroken blood? No.

Sal gulped. Tyr was DeadBlood. He had told her he was DeadBlood, she just hadn’t understood back then. Now though? Now it was starting to dawn on her, all of what that meant. Basically Tyr’s only priority in life was to hunt beasts. That was it. No love. No R&R. No caring for another. Just hunting. He would do anything to get to a beast. Anything.

She had to keep that squarely in mind. But at times it was so hard to. Like now. He stood next to her brother, smelling the air. A light breeze caught the edge of Tyr’s leather jacket, filling the fabric, billowing it out away from his legs.

Thick black leather pants weren’t a San Francisco Height-Ashbury inspired fashion choice. He wasn’t trying to be a top, he was trying to stay alive. One more tough layer to get through before a beast’s claw tore into his flesh.

Above the pants was a linen shirt. White. Or at least it used to be white. Now it was torn and, of course, blood stained. Across the shirt was a deep burgundy bandolero. It should have been filled with tiny vials of intent blood. Each one collected under very specific emotional circumstances. Each one to help him fight the beast.

Sal had been so angry at Tyr for so long that it was hard to reconcile the fierce warrior who stood in front of her with the complete asshole that had kissed Stacy, broken her heart and taken off.

She’d rewound those few days over and over again in her head. How far back had the betrayal gone? Had he planned to make her fall in love the whole time just to collection her heartbroken blood to facilitate him returning to his own time? Or was it after they’d made love?

Did it matter? He was DeadBlood. He’d told her over and over again not to trust him. Yet, that’s exactly what she’d done. You could trust him to only do one thing. Hunt beasts.

Sal thought she had a thousand questions she would ask him. She’d practiced them so that they would be at the tip of her tongue if he ever arrived at her doorstep. Yet each of them lay mute on her tongue.

The whole, I’m dying and dragged my ass to your apartment thing kind of threw her. Worry had replaced repugnance. She wanted him very much alive when she read him the riot act.

Then to see him with Alex had made her waver. The boy did need some discipline. Perhaps not DeadBlood discipline, but some male positive influence. Some parental energy. Now that their mother was dead, Alex would need that even more now.

Tyr sniffed one last time then turned. His movement was so quick that Sal didn’t have time to hide the fact she had been full on staring at him. His eyes scanned her face then the edge of his lips tugged up.

That was what passed for a smile in Tyr’s world. Was it for her or for his next words?

CHAPTER 7

“He is close,” Tyr stated getting back into the taxi and pointing to the cabbie where to go to next.

Alex clamored in beside her. Her brother looked ragged. His cheeks were streaked with tears that cut through smudged/clotted blood. The red stood out brightly against the nearly ghost white color of his skin. Dark circles marred his otherwise youthful features.

Dear god, if that’s what the teen looked like, what did she?

“Where are we going?” Sal asked her baby brother.

“Hell if I know,” Alex grumbled back. “All I could smell was dung.”

Dung? In San Francisco? The City boasted a wide range of aromas. Many international in flavor, but dung was not usually one of them.

Then Sal realized that they had turned down Portola Drive onto Sloat Boulevard.

They were about to make a left onto the Great Highway.

The beast must have made for the zoo.

But why?

None of this made any sense. Before, he had meticulously tortured people for information on both Lionel and on the whereabouts of a statue with heartbroken blood on it. Now he had killed Sal’s mother and was heading towards the zoo.

It made so little sense.

For the first time since the apartment, Sal spoke up.

“What?” Sal asked, and then had to cough to get all the tears from her throat. “What would the beast want with my mother’s blood?”

Tyr frowned. “There are many uses, the exact one, I cannot discern.”

“Why would he be heading to the zoo?” Lionel asked next to her.

“Zoo?” Tyr asked, his frown deepening.

“A collection of wild animals,” Sal explained.

“Ah,” Tyr said. “A menagerie.”

“No,” Lionel responded shaking his head. “A menagerie is where animals are contained for people’s amusement.”

“So no one visits this zoo of yours?” Tyr asked, obviously confused.

Sal bowed out of this discussion. Let Lionel figure out how incredibly frustrating it was to explain something to Tyr.

“Of course they do. That is the point of them. To have them so that people can see how valuable wildlife is.”

“By keeping them caged and out of the wild?” Tyr asked.

Lionel looked to Sal but she raised her hands. She was not getting involved.

“Well, yes, but no,” Lionel tried to explain. “It is conservation, so they don’t get killed in the wild, while engendering a sense of wonder in children so that they can appreciate wildlife.”

“By keeping them caged and un-wild?” Tyr challenged.

Lionel finally gave up as well. “And I suppose you have a better solution.”

“Teach children to stay away from wildlife and allow them to be wild.”

Lionel’s cheeks blotched. “Yah, but --”

“So that they might not get eaten by them.”

Well, there was that. Lionel didn’t even try to argue with that logic.

The cab pulled to a stop at the entrance to the zoo. The iconic sign was lighted. The pastel lemon yellow sign was wooden framed with a variety of wild animal figures in iron on the top.

Without hesitation, Tyr exited the cab and headed to the gates, which were wrought iron as well.

Sal took out money and paid the cabbie.

“It’s gonna be a long wait ‘til nine am,” the cabbie stated.

“Yes, well we aren’t going in,” Sal said, although Tyr was tugging on the gates, testing their strength. “We’re just looking around the area for real estate.”

“Sure you are,” the cabbie replied with a roll of the eyes. “Just remember the spider monkeys tore apart the last girls who broke into the zoo.”

Yah, ever since a vicious attack in the 70’s when some teenagers massacred a group of koala bears, San Franciscans didn’t have a lot of sympathy for zoo trespassers.

“Duly noted,” Sal said as the cabbie rolled off.

Tyr was still testing the gate. “I’m not sure if I can open it without blood.”

And he was obviously very low on blood. They could try the solution but that was finite in quantity as well. They didn’t want to shoot their wad here. Not when they still had to face the beast.

“This way,” Alex said as he guided them down the road.

“What’s this way?” Sal asked.

“Just trust me for once, sis,” Alex responded, more weary than angry.

Since she didn’t have a better plan, she trod along behind Lionel and Tyr who followed close on her brother’s heels. They walked around the east end of the zoo until they came to an eight-foot high fence with razor wire on the top.

Sal craned her neck to see the top of it.

“It should be here somewhere,” Alex said, jiggling the chain link fence.

“What should be?” Sal asked, but her brother stopped and started climbing the fence. “What are you doing?”

“We’ve replaced the razor wire with rubber wire,” Alex said, clamoring up the chain link.

“Aren’t there guards or something?” Lionel asked.

“Nah,” Alex said. “Not with the budget cuts. Just some old guy who hangs out in the security office. There aren’t even cameras in this area.”

No wonder so many people broke into the zoo. It was practically wide open, but something was still bugging Sal. “What did you mean by ‘we?’”

Alex shrugged as he climbed. “The Valencianos.”

The gang Alex used to belong to.

“Running through the lions enclosure is one of the initiations.”

Great. Gangs weren’t known for their smarts. Didn’t they realize that lions were nocturnal? Just like beasts.

Alex reached the top and put his hand onto the wire. He was not cut. “We’re good.”

Everyone else climbed up behind him.

The elephants trumpeted again, this time it sounded like all of them. Panicked, angry, afraid.

They all climbed faster. Sal reached the top, and awkwardly heaved herself over the wire. Even though it was fake didn’t mean it wasn’t difficult to get past.

By the time they all landed on the other side, the pachydermy house was a riot. A rhino broke through the wall and charged down the path. Everyone’s attention was so drawn toward the west that they didn’t notice the flock of emus approaching.

And they did not seem too happy to have the humans in their enclosure.

“Ouch!” Lionel complained as one of the emus pecked him in the head.

“Run!” Tyr shouted, but Sal’s feet were already on the move.

The emus’ enclosure was about as hilly as San Francisco itself. Sal nearly tripped on a tree root.

“Ouch!” Lionel yelled again. “Damn, these things are mean!”

Tyr was there, catching her arm, holding her steady. Then he was out in front of her, hopping the four-foot fence. He made it look so easy. But she could understand his urgency. There was a red glow at the elephant house and a near stampede from within.

Sal hit the fence running. The chain link wire dug into her hand as she used the bar like a brace and swung her legs up and over the fencing. Lionel was behind her, flailing his hands around his head, trying to shoo the determined emus away from his head.

“Hurry!” Tyr barked.

But Lionel couldn’t. He was about to be taken down by an angry emu mob.

“Scatter!” Tyr shouted. This time Sal could feel the command down to her marrow. It took everything for her not to flee the scene. The emus scattered in all different directions, allowing Lionel a narrow escape.

The physicist had to try several times, and then finally cleared the fence with only a little help from Alex.

“Come,” Tyr said, pulling his sword from its sheath.

An angry roar rumbled from the elephant house. The sound made Sal’s knees knock together a little.

Every fiber of her being told her not to go in there.

Nothing good could come of it.

Nothing.

* * *

Alex clutched his short sword. Too much had happened in too little time. Tyr’s arrival. His mother’s death. And now here they were heading into the elephant house with the beast surely inside.

Beast. Just a few hours ago if someone had told him that he would be hunting a beast across San Francisco, Alex would have assumed they were on some pretty sweet mushrooms from the Haight-Ashbury district.

Yet here he was. Tyr was in the lead. His sister and Lionel were bringing up the rear. That’s what it was called, right?

The sound of elephants screaming was a bit unnerving. It was like that time in kindergarten when Freddy Littus dropped the class rabbit and broke its back. The scream had disturbed Alex more than Nightmare on Elm Street and Aliens combined.

This was ten times worse.

Tyr shouted and the large doors to the elephant barn flew open. He remembered that Sal had said at one point that the more organic a substance, the easier it was to command. This door was wood, unlike the zoo gate that had been metal.

Two rhinos and a smaller elephant, which had apparently broken out of their stalls, charged out. They didn’t pay any of the humans any heed. They fled into the zoo, just happy to be out of the barn.

Tyr ran into the barn, his sword raised high. Alex followed, albeit not quite so aggressively. It didn’t matter though as Tyr’s arm lowered, dangling limp.

Alex wasn’t sure if he wanted to see what had stopped Tyr cold in his tracks. The others pressed from behind though, so Alex had no choice but to step forward and witness the scene.

It had been a slaughter. Three elephants were down. Blood was everywhere. Everywhere.

The floor, the walls, the ceiling.

The worst though was the largest downed elephant. His chest had been cracked open and the heart removed.

“What…” Lionel stuttered. “What would the beast need with an elephant’s heart?

Tyr’s face paled. “It cannot be. He couldn’t be...”

“What?” Salista asked.

“He needed the blood of mother who had dammed a DeadBlood and now the HeartsBlood of an elephant?” Even Tyr looked worried which made Alex’s stomach churn. “Those are two thirds of an elixir that could… could… shatter our timeline. All timelines.”

* * *

Sal took Tyr’s hand. She didn’t know why, only that they both seemed to need the comfort. In his grip, she could feel his fear. Not for himself. He was DeadBlood. In this moment she remembered that he cared nothing for himself. Only for the victims of the beast.

What was one broken heart, weighed against both of their timelines being destroyed? For just a moment she had a glimmer of how he came to make his decisions. Could she have made the same decision? Sal seriously doubted it. Which didn’t exactly make her right.

“This still doesn’t make any sense,” Lionel commented.

“Which part?” Alex snorted.

Lionel held up a hand to keep Alex from commenting further. “He could have gotten the blood of DeadBlood’s mother in your time line, along with an elephant’s. So why risk the time travel? Why bother coming back to this time at all?”

“I do not know,” Tyr admitted, his hand squeezing hers. Sal did not think it was an act of affection, but rather one of frustration.

“You said ‘two,’ items the beast needed” Lionel reminded them. “What is the third?”

“The spark of atoms,” Tyr said.

Lionel tilted his head. “Spark of… Wait, you don’t mean a nuclear reaction?”

It was Tyr’s turn to cock his head. “The unnatural splitting of the atom to release energy?”

For a man in leathers it was odd to have him talk of such modern science. But of course for him it was ancient history.

“But he could not possibly get such a thing here, could he?” Tyr asked.

Lionel’s face drained of color. “There are two nuclear subs in the bay right now.”

It was becoming clearer why the beast had come back to their time. He needed some nuclear material. And since the next ages would be that of the knowing and then the reaping, this would be the most likely time to easily find that nuclear material.

A scream went up on Monkey Island.

“The beast is trying to cut across the zoo,” Alex said. “Come on, I know a short cut.”

The group took off, heading down narrow paths that cut between the exhibits. Exactly how much time had her brother spent at the zoo anyway? It certainly wasn’t with the family. Ever since their father had died they hadn’t been much of a family at all. Part of that was her fault. It was so easy to say that pre-med then med school consumed all her time, when really she had rigged it that way.

She’d ditched Alex with their mom. Moms were supposed to take care of their children, right? Only their mom had kind of lost her way and Sal knew it. Was it any surprise that Alex had ended up in a gang? Losing his father to cancer, his sister to school and his mother to grief?

It was really just shocking that he hadn’t been jailed or killed yet.

And now their mother was dead and they were on the hunt for the beast. Yah, this probably wasn’t going to turn out much better for Alex this way either.

They ran past the large white walled aviary where a toucan raised the alarm and the rest of the birds followed suit. Soon the seals were barking and the monkeys were hooting again.

A resounding roar answered not far off.

“Here!” Tyr shouted, vaulting over a wall.

“No!” Alex cried. “That’s the tiger’s enclosure and she’s got cubs!”

Sal skid to a halt and watched the horror unfold.

Tyr was deep within the enclosure, and within seconds, a tigress leapt out from the shadows, her tail swishing and a snarl on her lips. The beast was up on the far side of the enclosure. Almost taunting Tyr. Like, if you can get past the tigress, you might have a shot at me.

As pissed as the tigress looked, that didn’t seem very likely.

CHAPTER 8

Tyr held his ground. The tigress was just trying to protect her babies. Four tiny eyes peered out from the small cave. One hissed. A brave one.

“I mean you nor your cubs any harm,” Tyr said lowering his weapon, although keeping it ready for any impending attack. “It is he who is the threat.”

He nodded toward the beast. The moon outlined his thick mane as it slipped out from behind the clouds.

The tigress’ eyes slid over to the form. She snarled but didn’t move away.

“Let me pass and I will keep your family safe,” Tyr said as if she might understand him. He was hoping the calming confidence he was sending to her was doing the communicating for him.

The hysterical sobbing and calling from outside the enclosure was not helping though. Did they now know that they needed to be cool? Assured? Apparently not.

Tyr pulled inside of himself. He had to prepare to issue an edict. Which was not as easy on a predator. They had a mind of their own. And a sheer will that had to be overcome. Especially a momma tiger. They were not so easily deterred.

Tyr opened his mouth as the tigress’s muscles bunched together. But instead of launching at him, she spun, jumping up, striking at the beast. Startled, Tyr’s brother let out a very un-beastly yip and jumped down out of sight.

Taking advantage of the situation, Tyr leapt onto a rock, then onto another, gaining elevation with each leap until he too was out of the enclosure. The beast was not far down the path.

With a war cry on his lips, Tyr attacked.

Only when he got there, Vitalis was no longer there. The beast shattered a vial of blood and a large vortex opened, sucking his brother in.

He tried to jump into the vortex but it closed with a large slurping sound before he could enter. Tyr landed on his behind as the portal blew out a bright red light.

The others caught up.

Alex extended his hand to Tyr. “What happened?”

Tyr got up without help. “He portaled back home.”

“But why?” Salista asked. “I thought he needed nuclear material?”

“So did I,” Tyr responded, wiping sweat off his brow.

“He must have a reason though,” Lionel said. “He had a plan.”

“Did we interrupt it?” Salista asked.

“I do not know, but we must follow,” Tyr said. “We must obtain some heartbroken blood.”

Alex and Lionel looked between themselves, but Salista looked to her feet.

“What is it?”

Salista gulped and pulled a vial from around her neck. “I collected some after you left.”

Tyr held out his hand for the vial but she did not hand it over.

* * *

Sal could feel the vial under her fingertips. At the time, she had no idea why she collected her own heartbroken blood. Was it in hope that one day Tyr would return? Or was it fear that Tyr would return? Exactly what would he do for an encore if he needed more heartbroken blood?

Either way, she had grabbed a blood tube from her desk and filled it while her heart still ached from being split in two.

Tyr’s hand was still out. He looked like he was considering an edict.

“Only if you take me with you,” Sal found herself saying.

“I’ll take your brother, but I have no need for you,” Tyr said.

How could his words still cut?

Trying not to flinch, Sal answered. “I don’t care. I’m coming.”

What was left for her here? Her mother was dead. Her brother was going with Tyr. Her career was hollow at best. Within moments, everything she loved would be in Tyr’s world.

She couldn’t let him go again.

“My blood,” Sal said, setting her jaw, hoping that Tyr would see exactly how determined she was. “My decision.”

It was Tyr’s turn to set his jaw. “You don’t understand. My world is very different from yours.”

“I know,” Sal answered, but did she really? She had certainly dreamed of it. It had to be better than here. The wonder had bled out of her world.

With a nearly imperceptible nod, Tyr agreed. Sal’s heart warmed a tenth of a degree. Perhaps there was hope.

“Can I come?” Lionel asked.

“No,” Sal and Tyr answered in stereo.

“How come?” Lionel asked with a pout.

“We cannot have your mind fall into the beast’s hands,” Tyr explained. “You must stay here and practice caution.”

Lionel didn’t look too thrilled about that, but Sal concurred. “Make us up some more fake HeartsBlood.” While the stuff had proven itself today it was tedious and time consuming to manufacture.

The physicist nodded and handed over a carton of tubes. “There is a bunch of emotion specific gel in there. Use it wisely.”

Sal stuffed the package into her laptop bag. “Take care,” she said then gave him a peck on the cheek.

“I hope you know what you’re getting yourself in for,” Lionel whispered.

So did Sal.

Tyr held out his hand. This time Sal gave the vial over.

He murmured a few words over the vial before he opened it. Is this what he did last time? Is this how he traveled back to his time the last time? Is this what he did while she was crying her heart out in the resident’s room?

Before she could ask, Tyr threw the vial down on the ground and crunched it under foot. Alex’s hand snaked into hers. She didn’t let her little brother’s hand go.

“Open!” Tyr shouted.

The air complied as the space before them seemed ripped open. A loud grinding sound filled the air. Suddenly all of the birds, seals and monkeys went quiet.

Tyr whispered a few more words into the red void. Sal couldn’t hear what they were over the portal’s crushing noise.

“Come!” Tyr shouted gathering the three of them together. He took her hand. “We cannot let go, no matter what happens. Not until we are on the other side.”

Sal nodded.

Then Tyr did what Tyr does. Without a word, he leapt into the portal. Sal was dragged along behind as Alex jumped in as well.

Then her world went red. It was like being inside of the angry beast.

A very, very angry beast.

CHAPTER 9

Alex fell to the ground with a thud, which only added insult to injury. He was not going to throw up. That was the only thought that stayed in his mind throughout the vortex.

I am not going to throw up.

Although at this moment with his stomach grumbling he feared he might lose that battle. The vortex had been far simpler yet far harsher than he had expected. A red, so red that it physically hurt had engulfed him.

Alex shivered at the thought. He felt washed away by that red, like he did not exist anymore. Only the red had existed. Even now his vision was blurry with it.

While he was still flat on his back, Salista was trying to gain her feet. She was so much tougher than he was. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it. She always had been. Salista credited it to having more time with their father.

He had been a hardy Welshmen. Stout. Stoic. Strong. All the things that Salista inherited, and so little of what he and his mother were. It was like after his death all of those qualities died in the household as well.

His mother had retreated to the church, going nearly every day and certainly every night. Salista said it was because their mother and father had been so in love when he died. She just couldn’t live and function without her other half.

Which was so unfair. How many unhappy couples were there out there? Nearly all of Alex’s friends’ parents were embroiled in their own private, vicious marital war. Why had his father, loving and loved, have to die?

Ugh. It was like the red vortex had dredged up the past and served it up right in front of Alex.

All of the old pain welling up, threatening to unhinge him.

For a moment he thought he could feel his mother’s arms around him. After his father died and Salista had gone away to college, Alex was all she had. He remembered how smothered he’d felt. How desperately he wanted out of that apartment.

Now he only wished he could go home for some handmade tamales and a good scolding over not going to Wednesday night services.

But that would never happen again. He could miss an eternity of Wednesday night masses and never hear a harsh word.

How long would it feel like his chest had been carved out and was an empty husk? How long had it been for his father?

In true, he barely remembered their father. There were only brief snippets of memories. Most of them at the zoo. Like when his father put him on his shoulders to that he could watch the gorilla give the bird to tourists.

Maybe that’s why he liked the zoo so much.

Alex blinked several times. The only thing he could see was a large canopy of dark trees. The zoo was pretty well planted, but nothing like this. There was still steel and concrete everywhere at the zoo.

However they were now in a straight out forest.

In the future. Alex was still having a hard time wrapping his head around that one. How could this be the future? The zoo was gone, just gone, replaced by this dark, creepy forest.

“Joining us?” Salista asked, even though she herself was bent over, leaning her arms on her knees. Her laptop bag though was on her shoulder as always. It was like the thing was her new security blanket. He could remember even up into her teens, Salista had kept a My Little Pony blanket on her bed. No matter how much teasing she took from him or her friends, that blanket stayed, so it was no surprise her laptop had become her new pacifier. And it seemed to talk back to her so there was that.

“Yah, I think the vortex broke me,” Alex said, trying to wiggle his toes.

“Don’t be such a drama queen,” Salista said.

“Really? That said by a woman transported by a vortex into the future?”

“Exactly,” Salista snorted. “Now get up.”

Alex rolled over and up onto an elbow. He watched Tyr, who somehow was on his feet, walk deeper into the forest, shouting, “Dyn!”

Looking to his sister, Alex raised an eyebrow.

“His thane,” she explained.

Alex’s eyebrow went up further.

“His teacher. Like Tyr is teaching you, Dyn taught Tyr.”

Alex nodded then regretted the action. He rotated his head around, trying to loosen up his neck muscles. Salista offered her hand.

“Come on, we can’t lose him.”

Reluctantly Alex took his sister’s hand and rose to his feet. His stomach lurched, very unhappy with the action, but his dinner stayed in place.

“Dyn!” Tyr shouted again, then put his fingers to his lips and gave an ear-shattering whistle. So far this thing was going great.

“What are we going to do now?” Alex asked.

“Hunt the beast I assume,” Salista said, dusting off the back of her jeans.

Great. Just what he had hoped. Not.

Before he could grumble any more about how much crappier his life had gotten, a huge, like huge, stallion charged from the forest, rearing in front of Tyr. Its steel-tipped hooves glistening with menace in the moonlight.

“Ho,” Tyr said reaching a hand out as the stallion’s hooves came down hard on the forest floor. “Hunter, ho.”

To Alex’s surprised the horse quieted immediately as Tyr rubbed the stallion’s nose.

* * *

No matter the circumstances, if Tyr had Hunter he felt at peace. They might all die in the next few moments but rider and steed were reunited. He could feel the sense of relief through Hunter’s skin as well. The horse shivered under his touch.

Tyr leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Hunter’s nose.

I’m alright, he thought.

As if sensing his master’s feelings, Hunter pawed at the ground as if to say, well if you’re fine, then let’s get going.

“Tyr!” a voice sounded deeper in the forest.

“Here!” Tyr shouted back.

His thane limped from the forest, “Aye, I made my way back here when you did not reappear in Ellismayberry.”

Tyr’s mind spun. “How long have I been gone?”

“A few weeks, perhaps a fortnight,” Dyn answered, offering his arm. Tyr took it, embracing his thane who was still weak from their battle. Behind him a young stallion peeked from the leaves. Dyn’s new mount. His mare had been slaughtered back at the castle.

“The Dutchy?”

“We routed the beasts shortly after you left. Both the Duke and Duchess are safe along with the children. The beasts fled to the south. There are hunting parties after them.”

“But not you?” Tyr asked.

Dyn’s smile brightened. “I had to see if you would return.”

Dyn hugged him tighter. Tyr’s hand came back moist with his thane’s blood. “You are still injured.”

“The wound never quite closed,” Dyn admitted, looking down at his blood soaked shirt.

Tyr took out a small vial from his pocket. “Allow me.”

Dyn pulled away though. “We cannot allow you to waste HeartsBlood on such a minor thing.”

The wound was no minor thing. Tyr could see it in the sallow color of Dyn’s cheeks. The wound was sapping his thane of his strength. “This is not HeartsBlood but an artificial substance that mimics its effects.”

“Like the gel that mimics intent blood?”

Tyr nodded as he painted a drop of the solution onto the open wound. The skin closed before their very eyes.

“It is a miracle,” Dyn said, wonder shining from his features. Then Dyn looked past him. “And your traveling companions would be?”

Tyr turned, embarrassed his manners were so lacking. “This is Salista, the witch who conjured the solution and gel.”

Dyn held out his hand and Salista shook it. “I did have some help though. It wasn’t all me.”

Always humble and gracious, his Salista.

“And this is Alex, her younger brother,” Tyr said introducing the teen.

Dyn and Alex’s hands had only to meet for a few seconds before Dyn’s eyes dilated. “You are DeadBlood.”

“That’s what they tell me,” Alex responded.

“Alejandro,” Salista rumbled. “Play nicely.”

“Or what? You’ll pull me out of my time and hurl me into the future to fight beasts?”

* * *

Sal went to retort but the usual threat died on her lips. She couldn’t exactly tell their mother on him any longer could she? “Just don’t be so rude.”

It wasn’t the greatest comeback ever, but she would work on it.

Moving her gaze from Alex, she looked to Dyn. He looked pretty much what she thought a thane of Tyr’s would look like.

Tall, muscular, older than Tyr, but all the more handsome for it. Dyn apparently aged like Sean Connery. His beard was sprinkled with grey, as was his closely shorn hair. His eyes were a brilliant green. Bright and intelligent. His eyes were scanning Alex’s features.

“He is pure DeadBlood,” Dyn stated, still holding her brother’s hand.

Tyr nodded. “The beast slayed their mother for her blood.”

Well, Sal thought the beast took her mother’s blood but slayed her to get back at Tyr.

“And this witch is a LiveBlood?” Dyn said straight-faced as he took her hand. “A pure LiveBlood at that. Whichever woman dammed these two had potent blood indeed.”

Sal could tell that Alex took Dyn’s words as an offense, but she could feel in his hand a tenderness along with his eyes. He meant no slight to either them or their mother.

“Yes, she was quite remarkable,” Sal choked out.

“She must have been,” Dyn stated, cupping her hand in both of his. “I am so sorry for you loss. The beast has cleaved many from their loved ones.”

Sal could only nod.

“He also has an elephant’s heart,” Tyr explained.

Dyn dropped her hands and turned to Tyr. “All he needs now is the spark of the atom.”

The thane’s face clouded over. “But why would he come back to our time without it?”

“I have pondered the same question,” Tyr stated. “He did not even try. Granted we had him cornered, but he shot back straight here, without even attempting an escape.”

Dyn’s jaw worked up and down but he did not speak for a moment. “We will have to think upon this. His plan is clouded to us. And I for one cannot smell him. Can you?”

Tyr nodded. “He masked himself with the blood of a halibut’s eye.”

His thane nodded as if that was the most logical sentence in the world. Which of course to Sal it was not.

“Then there is not much that we can do here. We must head back to Ellismayberry,” Dyn suggested.

“Why?” Tyr asked.

It was pretty clear Tyr did not want to go back to where-ever it was that Dyn was suggesting.

“The King is headed to the duchy to assess the damage and lend his support,” Dyn said.

Tyr gulped hard, looking at the ground rather than his thane. “And the Queen? Will she be in attendance?”

“I believe so,” Dyn said, snapping his fingers at his horse. The stallion trotted out from the brush and nudged Dyn’s hand. “We will ride two by two.”

Still, Tyr seemed reluctant to join in, even as Dyn mounted his horse and held a hand out to Alex. The boy had never seen a horse up close, let alone ridden one. But, just as clearly, her brother didn’t want to admit that. Instead he took Dyn’s hand then tried to climb up onto the horse’s back. His foot slipped repeatedly and if it weren’t for Dyn’s strong grip, he would have tumbled to the ground. The stallion swished his tail in irritation until finally Alex climbed on top of his back.

“I don’t get it,” Sal said. “What does it matter if the King and Queen are at the castle?”

Dyn’s eyebrow shot up. “Did Tyr not tell you?”

Sal shook her head as Tyr lowered his chin, frowning.

“They are Tyr’s parents.”

CHAPTER 10

Tyr bowed his head. The shame was simply too great. His birth had heralded the demise of a royal dynasty that reached back to nearly the age of Harrowing. His family had ruled the Mendastopol Kingdom for centuries. His birth though? A DeadBlood’s birth had abruptly ended that lineage.

His father had stayed on the throne only because he was so popular with the common-folk. Vitalis had been stripped of his prince-hood though, along with Tyr’s older sister. No Turrongs to sit on the throne any longer.

Once Tyr’s father died, the kingdom would be handed over to a steward and a new royal line begun.

Tyr had single-handedly done what wars, coups, and assassins could not. He had dethroned the Turrongs.

“You are a prince?” Salista said, swallowing hard.

“No,” Tyr said. “I am a…”

Both he and Dyn said it at the same time. “DeadBlood. I can hold not title or rank.”

“That doesn’t seem fair,” Salista said as he mounted Hunter.

Fair had little to do with it. He could only imagine the time before his birth. Dyn had said the entire country had been excited. They already had an heir in Vitalis, but it was always good luck to have a spare. All of the soothsayers were predicting a male child. His royal name had already been chosen. Tiberus the Second. Women stitched it on handkerchiefs to be waved after his birth.

Other newborn boys were already being name Tiberus in his honor.

Then the day of the birth. Unlike his other siblings, his was a difficult labor, taking his mother all the way through the day, night and the next dawn. When his squall was finally heard, it did not fall on happy parents.

Dyn had been in attendance, already called in to assist the difficult birth, and determined immediately that Tyr was DeadBlood. With the priests there as well, Tyr was scooped from his mother’s arms before he could take his first sip of milk.

Supposedly news spread like wildfire from the castle out into the countryside. Kerchiefs were burned and boy’s names changed within moments. The joy of a royal birth snuffed out by the news of a DeadBlood.

Tyr’s birth had ramifications beyond the borders of his own kingdom. Three of his uncles were kings as well. Their sons suddenly no longer crowned princes. An aunt was Queen to the kingdom of ice, her own children forfeiting their inheritance.

The Turrongs, long held in great esteem, their blood flowing through nearly every throne room in the world, were suddenly beneath the lowliest servant.

Tyr glanced over to Salista who stood next to Hunter. “Do not look upon me with such pity.”

“Well then,” Salista said. “Stop looking quite so pitiful.”

Dyn barked a laugh. “Oh, I think I like this one.”

“Yes, well, spend some time with her,” Tyr answered sourly. Salista frowned a mock frown. It did not reach her eyes. He reached out and she took his hand, mounting behind him smoothly unlike her brother’s rather awkward example.

“Are we leaving or not?” Tyr asked Dyn.

His thane smiled, turning his stallion to the east

Toward Ellismayberry. Toward his parents.

* * *

Alex tried to be brave and quiet. Really quiet, but they had been riding all day and dang, there was some chaffing people. The sun was three quarters to setting.

“Are we going to stop for the night, or what?” Alex asked. Salista shot him a look but he didn’t care. Not when he had third degree friction burns on his thighs.

“We should stop here. The river is just over that rise,” Dyn said, sounding as if he hadn’t just ridden nine hours.

Thankfully Tyr nodded without arguing. Alex couldn’t take another moment astride the horse. He swung his leg over the horses’ rump and slid down to the ground. His legs couldn’t hold him so he slumped to his knees.

And you know what, he wasn’t even embarrassed about it.

Salista didn’t fare much better. She was just smart enough to keep a grip on the saddle so that she could hold herself up.

“I will get fire wood,” Tyr said as he swung his leg over the front of the saddle and landed gracefully on the ground. Maybe Alex’s DeadBlood would make him more graceful one day.

Tyr unrolled a pack first and handed it to Salista. “If you could get supper started.”

“What? Because I am a woman?” Salista demanded in that Nazi-feminist way.

“Yes,” Tyr said with a cock of his head before he walked off into the forest.

With Dyn headed off to the river, that left Salista and Alex to help set up camp. The bedrolls were pretty easy to identify so Alex took those. Salista stood for a moment with her pot and bag of produce then finally moved to a small hollow in the ground and began gathering tinder for the fire.

Alex unrolled the blankets and laid them out. They were supposed to make up two beds, but it was pretty warm, it seemed like summer here, so they should be able to stretch it to four.

Without warning he unceremoniously sat down. The weight of the last twenty-four hours hitting him all at once.

Then the second revelation hit. For once it wasn’t his fault. It was Miss High and Mighty over there. Okay, maybe it wasn’t her fault, but Salista was the one that brought on the hurt. Not him.

Alex breathed out through his mouth. It was a relief not being the black sheep on this one. Ever since he joined the gang, he’d brought nothing but heartache to his family. Everyone was always worried about him. All family discussions started with the phrase… “Alex, you know that we love you, but…”

Joining the gang had seemed like the only option back then. To end the constant harassment from the Valencianos to and from school. To and from the store. To and from everywhere. They were on every street corner and expected any other chicano to join their ranks.

He’d been caught passing along some “dirt,” marijuana and had been sent to juvie. But that’s how the gang ran. They let the younger kids carry the product so if they got snatched up, they’d do juvie time rather than hard time at San Quentin.

After that the tears flowed. His mother’s. Salista’s. His. It seemed that he was ruining not only his own life but everyone else’s as well. He felt the scratchy wool blanket in his hand. It reminded him he wasn’t home any longer. His mother was gone. Now long, long dead, but still so fresh in his mind. This world was no longer his own.

The sky seemed the same. The forest around him felt like the Golden Gate Park, but it wasn’t. As a matter of fact as far as they traveled, they probably should have been in the Hwy 80 corridor heading toward Napa.

Only there wasn’t a Hwy 80 corridor anymore. Occasionally you would see a block of concrete or a broken, trampled sign, but other than that you would never know this land had once been industrialized. It was like Planet of the Apes destroyed. Gone.

He felt like an interloper. Everything he’d known, all of his street smarts did him no good here. Like which bodega owner would sell smokes to under age kids. Which vans not to get into. Stuff like that.

This world was all about beasts and blood.

A shiver went up his spine. What was he doing here? He barely survived juvie and he was in minimum security. This was like super max lock down.

He glanced over to Salista who was peeling some potatoes. A step down for her for sure. Alex couldn’t remember the last time she’d cooked. She was known for her take-out/warm up skills.

“What are you looking at?” Salista demanded.

“Nothing,” Alex answered, not wanting to start a fight. He feared there would be fighting enough in the next few days.

* * *

Sal knew exactly what Alex was looking at. Her butchery of a poor potato that deserved a better fate than to end up in her hands. While she resented being assigned KP duty, she also got it. Tyr didn’t want her wandering around the forest unarmed and alone. She knew what stalked the woods and she would rather be here, relatively safe, thank you very much. If that made her a sellout, so be it.

Tyr emerged from the trees with a large armful of wood. He scanned the area. “Where is Dyn?”

Sal shrugged. “He isn’t back yet.”

Tyr frowned that frown of his. Confirming her suspicions of his mood, he drew his sword and headed toward the ridge. “Stay here.”

Sal stayed planted in place, but Alex snuck along behind Tyr.

“Alex!” Sal hissed.

“Like you’ve never followed,” Alex said with a roll to his eyes. “Besides we’re kind of sitting ducks here without him.”

Sal could remember when she thought like that. Then she also remembered the consequences of not listening to Tyr, but she couldn’t exactly let Alex follow alone, could she?

Falling in line, she grabbed Alex’s hand. She was glad to see that he had the good sense to be shaking.

The forest was so thick. Too thick. She could barely see a few feet between the lush branches. It was like a wall of green. Sal could see the late evening sun filtering through the branches, yet it illuminated very little. She could hear the river, but for the life of her, couldn’t see it. How could the roar be so loud, yet not be seen?

Sal could hear noises though. Leaves rustling. Was that the light breeze or a creature? Worse, a beast?

A crow cawed startling Sal. She jumped, snapping a branch underfoot. Tyr turned, a scowl on his face.

“If you must insist on disobeying me, do so silently.”

His footsteps, of course, generated no sound and Sal didn’t even think he was using blood magic to quiet them, he was just that good.

The crow cawed again. The sound, unnerving. Like the crow knew what horror was just over the ridge. Tyr crested the hill and stopped them. Sal stood on her tippy toes to look over his shoulder. Everything seemed fine. The river flowed past. Birds flitted from tree to tree. Only there was no Dyn.

There was no sign he had ever been here. Not even footprints.

Tyr stopped again, sniffing the air.

Sal knew what he was sniffing for and gripped Alex’s hand tighter.

Tyr stopped sniffing as his grimace deepened. Although she was pretty sure he hadn’t smelt any beasts. Usually he was too busy swinging his sword to frown.

He knelt, picked up a pinch of dirt and smelled it. He rubbed the soil between his fingers, then spit on the ground, dropping the dirt.

Step by step Tyr descended the hill to the river. He stopped with each footfall, swiveling his head, searching the area for any sign of his thane. Sal gulped, expecting to find an eviscerated body at any moment. That’s what seemed to happen whenever someone went missing lately.

Tyr finally made his way to the riverbed. He craned his neck to view up and down the river. Apparently there was no body floating face down as he turned back.

“Dyn?” he whispered barely enough for Sal to hear. The word must have had some edict added to it as a voice rose from downstream.

“Here!” Dyn answered, pushing through the bush.

“Are you fine?” Tyr asked, concern clear in his voice.

“Aye,” Dyn said, showing off some raspberries. “I just found these and thought they would make a refreshing addition to dinner.”

“Next time inform me if you wish to linger and forage.”

Dyn looked a little chagrined, like he was the apprentice and Tyr the thane. “I am sorry. I did not realize I had been gone that long.”

Tyr hurmphed and turned, charging back up the hill.

Sal lingered to allow Dyn to catch up. “They do look good.”

“I fear that I trained Tyr too well.”

You could say that again.

* * *

Tyr chewed on the rather undercooked potato. Perhaps it had not been a good idea to put Salista in charge of the meal. Dyn had tried to infuse some flavor into the meal, but he finally given up. It was food. It would be eaten.

The raspberries truly were the only bright spot to the meal.

Alex spent more time stirring the stew than eating it. Even Salista cringed with every bite. They were new to the road. Soon they would cherish even a meal such as this.

The fire crackled, popping, sending an ember up and over their heads. It landed on the dirt and extinguished. They had to be careful. It was high summer and wildfires were a constant danger until the fall rain.

“Tell me about Tyr as a child,” Salista asked Dyn.

Tyr tried to stop Dyn with a glare but his thane was a storyteller by nature and seemed to warm to the idea.

“What would you like to know?” Dyn asked as he whittled a thin branch.

“Anything.”

“He was short until he passed his nineteenth birthday. So much so that he had to ride a pony instead of a stallion for much of his training.”

“Really?” Salista said. “A pony?”

Tyr frowned as his thane chuckled. “Aye. And not even a stout one. We had to go north to find a small enough one.”

The others laughed as well. Laughed at him. His thane must have seen his unease.

“But I think not having physical stature during his training helped him. He could not rely so much on his sword and became adept, even more adept than I, at intent blood. Then when his muscles grew he had both the intellect and the power which has made him one of the greatest DeadBloods in our history.”

Tyr knew that his thane meant to take the sting out of his previous comments, however it did not. He hated to have Salista to think of him weak and scrawny.

“So there’s some hope for me yet?” Alex asked.

Dyn nodded. “DeadBloods come in all sizes and shapes. To kill a beast takes both cunning and strength.”

“Perhaps not anymore,” Salista stated.

Tyr glared at her as well. She ignored him as his thane had.

“Along with artificial HeartsBlood and intent blood, I also carry a substance that can purge the corrupted intent, reverting beast to man.”

Tyr watched Dyn’s pupils dilate as he sputtered on his hard bread. “That cannot be true.”

Salista nodded though. “It is. We’ve tested it.”

“It has been attempted since the first fall,” Dyn said. “And never accomplished.”

Salista shrugged. “Don’t know what to say about that, but this stuff works. It is a difficult, painful process, but it works.”

“This changes everything,” Dyn whispered into the night.

“It changes nothing,” Tyr said. “It does not bring to life all those that the beast has killed. What is to stop them from descending again?”

“Once they are human,” Salista stated, “I’m not saying to set them free. I’m saying they can be dealt with as any other person and pay for their crimes.”

“Which would be to be put to death,” Tyr snapped. This was a most idiotic conversation.

“But if they could be reverted, might they not help educate others on the dangers of using intent blood and descent?” Salista suggested.

“I believe their heads on spikes does an adequate job of showing the consequences of LiveBlood dabbling in intent,” Tyr shot back. She was from far away. Far long ago. She could not understand his world any more that he could understand hers.

“Really?” Salista huffed. “Because it looks like people are descending at about the same rate that moths are attracted to flame.”

Tyr breath billowed in and out. “Easily spoken from someone who comes before the Harrowing.”

Dyn stood up from across the fire. “Perhaps we should all sleep on this before harsher words are spoken?”

The witch and her arrogance. Had he ever truly believed he had been in love with her and her naïve, dangerous view of the world?

“Yah,” Alex said, stretching his arms. “I’m way too tired to think. I’m hitting the sack.”

Tyr grit his teeth, glaring at Salista who did not look at all ready for bed either.

“Please,” Dyn said, directing his word to Salista. He knew that Tyr would not soften to his entreaty.

Salista snorted but rose. “Yes, sleep does sound like a good idea.”

There. She had given in. Once Tyr let his shoulders sag, he realized how bone weary he was as well. Hard ground had never sounded so appealing.

* * *

Sal awoke with an arm over her hip. Richard.

Wait, she hadn’t slept with Richard in months. And Lord knew his bed wasn’t so hard and knotty. His was made of ten inches of Temperpedic. There was a rock in her back the size of Montana.

Her eyes fluttered open to find trees and birds and a horse nudging her hair, nibbling at the ends.

Sal realized that not only was she not in Richard’s bedroom, she wasn’t even in her own timeline. She was thrown centuries in the future. Which meant that the arm over her hip could only belong to one person.

Tyr.

She craned her neck to view the hand that so casually caressed her shape. It was wide and strong with more than a few scars running across the skin. She was sure there was no conscious thought behind the action. Tyr must have spooned her in his sleep.

Last night had perhaps been more of a revelation of Tyr’s character, or lack thereof, than even his betrayal with Stacy. He’d shown himself as a brute. Callous, uncaring. His blood lust for the beast, even if he could be saved from the descent revolted her.

So why wasn’t she throwing his arm off?

Because that same arm had saved her a hundred times over. That arm would protect her.

Unless… With a DeadBlood there was always an “unless.” Unless harming you could help him catch a beast, then all bets were off.

Was that selfish or selfless?

Sal couldn’t tell. And now it was becoming uncomfortable to feel Tyr’s form pressing up against her back. His breath on her neck.

Carefully she lifted his arm and tried to get out from under it before he woke.

“Salista,” Tyr mumbled, half asleep.

Sal rolled out from his embrace, pushing herself up as he awoke. For a brief moment, his eyes unfocused, Tyr smiled, actually smiled, then he awoke fully, jerking himself away from her, snapping into his DeadBlood persona.

“I am sorry. I do not know what happened,” he stated rather awkwardly, not looking her in the eye.

“Don’t give it a second thought,” Sal answered, really not wanting to have this conversation.

She turned from the bedrolls to find Dyn already up and cooking breakfast. He flashed her a smile then looked to Tyr and the grin faded.

“We must ride hard today,” Dyn stated, kicking at Alex’s foot. Apparently the teen was still sound asleep. Typical Alejandro.

Her brother grumbled, then rolled over, trying to go back to sleep. Hunter moved from Sal’s blanket to Alex, nibbling on his hair. Alex tried to swat the horse away, but he was determined to get to the roots.

“Enough already!” Alex shouted, bolting upright in his bedroll. “What time is it already?”

“The sun has been up for at least an hour,” Dyn stated. “We must be on the road within the half bells.”

“Half bells?” Alex asked.

“On the half hour,” Sal answered. The term was used at church sometimes and lord knew she’d spent enough time in church as a youngster.

“Great, and I suppose there isn’t a bathroom in sight?” Alex queried, knowing full well the answer to his own question.

“Just pretend it’s an alley off of Hyde Park,” Sal replied back, bringing a frown to Alex’s face. He’d been busted for just that not a year ago. A stupid gang stunt.

Her brother shuffled off into the brush.

“Will we reach Ellismayberry today?” Sal asked Dyn as she sat down next to him. He was a far better camp cook than she could ever be. He had eggs cooking on a flat iron skillet along with something that approximated bacon and coffee bubbling beside it. Wild berries were off to the side just waiting to be consumed.

Dyn nodded. “We must organize and gather intelligence on the beast’s movements so that we can gather a hunting party.”

Being Tyr’s thane, Sal assumed that Dyn has some opinion on what the beast was doing. “What do you think Vitalis is up to?”

Dyn stopped stirring the eggs for a moment and frowned. “No beast has held his cunning this far into his descent since…”

The thane’s eyes flickered to Tyr then back down again.

“Since a man long ago descended into the form of a tiger. He held his cunning, organizing beasts, launching full scale attacks on villages and even castles.”

“What is the connection with Vitalis?”

“I do not know, but I know the stories from my thane. This tiger terrorized the kingdoms until King Kurtis himself routed the beast.”

“But the King isn’t a DeadBlood?” Sal asked, getting confused all over again.

“No, but as a young prince he led a group of DeadBloods to find the beast and kill him. He used only his military prowess, never relying on intent blood for the victory.”

So Tyr got his single-minded determination from his father it appeared.

“But Vitalis has a far greater scheme than just randomly attacking castles. Is he suicidal? Does he want the entire world to burn?”

Dyn shook his head. “No, Vitalis is far too arrogant to desire an end. He wishes to lord his power. He wishes to dethrone his father.”

“Dyn,” Tyr barked.

“What?” the thane answered. “It is the truth. Vitalis was power hungry when he was just a teen, before you were born. You did not know him, Tyr. I did.”

Tyr frowned as he rolled up the bedding. “Vitalis is not that boy any longer.”

“No, he is worse,” Dyn acknowledged. “His treachery is not your fault, Tyr. With or without you, Vitalis would have fallen eventually.”

Ah, there it was. Sal had found it odd that Tyr had stuck up for his brother. But that wasn’t it. No, Tyr wanted Vitalis’ guilt squarely on his own shoulders. That Tyr was the reason Vitalis fell. Like Tyr could have stopped his own birth.

Looking into Tyr’s deeply etched features, Sal believed that if he could, he would have nullified is own existence to save both his brother and his young love.

Sal decided that Tyr was selfless. How could you be selfish if you were willing to give up yourself? That was something that she kept forgetting to put into the equation of all that was Tyr. He would as quickly and easily sacrifice himself to kill a beast as he would anyone else.

That didn’t exactly make him any more trustworthy though, did it?

A scream went up from the direction that Alex had gone. Tyr’s blade sang as he pulled it from his sheath, then her brother crashed through the brush, stumbling back into camp, still screaming, only this time she could tell what he was saying.

“Snake!” Alex screamed pointing behind him. “Snake!”

Tyr shoved Alex toward the fire and charged forward. He used the tip of his sword to pick up the rattlesnake even as it rattled away, striking at him. Although Tyr never even flinched at the snakes repeated attacks.

“You have more scared the thing than it you,” Tyr said, tossing the snake deeper into the brush. “Had there been a beast around though, it would have tracked you by your screams.”

Alex was still shaking by the fire. “Yeah, well, that was a big ass rattlesnake so I’m not embarrassed.”

“Ah, but you should be,” Tyr said. “You are…”

“DeadBlood,” Alex answered. “Yah, Yah, Yah. I know. I know. But no one said anything about snakes.”

It was Dyn that started chuckling first. Then Sal didn’t know what came over her, but she began to giggle. Then even Tyr snorted and shook his head at the teen.

“What?” Alex said. “I’m serious.”

Which only made them all laugh the harder. God, it felt good to feel something beyond pain and fear.

Sal had to hold her side as she continued to laugh. Tears, finally not of sorrow but of pleasure, rolled down her cheek.

Finally she wiped her cheeks and turned to Dyn. “How about that breakfast?”

CHAPTER 11

Even though he was riding behind Dyn, Alex scanned the ground ahead of them, scanning for snakes. You could never be too careful.

Even though he’d never even seen a snake before, Alex hated snakes. Like with a passion. Who could like them? There better not be any snake beasts, ‘cause he was out. DeadBlood or not.

He’d actually kind of gotten used to the rocking motion of the horse as they cantered through the countryside. Salista keep oohing and ahing at the miles of vineyards and the mustard growing between the rolls. Or at the cream and red villas dotting the hills that lined the valley.

Alex had seen enough of it on commercials for the wine tour on late night television. He didn’t get it. It was just some old grape plants and weeds.

They hadn’t run into anyone the entire ride. It was a little eerie actually. Alex had grown up in one of the most densely populated areas in the world. He was used to the hustle and bustle. The closeness. The lack of privacy.

Here there was nothing but privacy. Which sucked. Somehow having humanity all around him had been a comfort to Alex. Now he felt like he did when his mother had confiscated his torn up teddy bear and thrown it down the garbage shoot. Life just wasn’t the same after that.

Even hugging close to Dyn as they rode barely dulled his sense of abandonment. He missed everything about San Francisco. The smell. The sounds. The sights. They were so far from the ocean, he couldn’t even smell the salt water. That was wrong, just wrong. His nose had never known anything different.

“There,” Tyr said, pointing far ahead. High up in the hills was a huge castle, looking down over the acres and acres of vineyards.

That must be Ellismayberry. That must be where Tyr’s parents were.

Talk about awkward. To have to meet the parents that gave you away. Alex hadn’t had it too easy, but dang, that was harsh.

* * *

Tyr was glad that they had made good time. No stopping for Alex or Salista. They had rode straight through the morning. The sun was perfectly overhead. There were no shadows to be had as they crossed into Ellismayberry’s kingdom.

No guards stopped them this time. Tyr also noticed that the postings warning away any DeadBloods had been taken down. It was not surprising that a kingdom’s attitude regarding DeadBloods changed once they had actual need of them.

A beast attack was the one sure way to soften people’s attitudes regarding DeadBloods. And have those beasts attack their children? Tyr doubted that any warning such as before would be posted for generations to come.

Instead they were able to ride directly up to the castle’s low and long rock wall. The stones snaked through the foothills for miles.

The guard at the gate, bowed his head. “DeadBloods, we have been expecting you.”

Yes, quite the change.

The steel gate swung open. It felt odd to be welcomed so, yet Tyr still squeezed his thighs against Hunter’s girth and the horse trotted through the opening and onto the cobblestone path that led up to the castle.

“This is amazing,” Salista whispered behind him. He’d done an excellent job of ignoring her presence for most of the morning. He had blocked the way her shape had pressed up against his back. Their bodies rocking in unison on Hunter’s back.

Now, though, it was nearly impossible to think of anything else.

He could feel the heat of her body through his leather overcoat. And now she was leaning forward to the take in the sights, his own body was reacting to hers.

That could not be allowed. He was DeadBlood. His body was under his rigorous control. It would not betray him.

Only it was. Luckily they approached the lower gate to the huge castle. They would have to dismount from here on out. Time enough to get his body back under control.

Tyr offered his arm to Salista. Her warm hands wrapped around his wrist as she slid off Hunter to the stone path. Guards approached from the gate.

“We will take the horses,” one of them offered, but Tyr shook his head.

“Nay, we will walk them in.”

“Then perhaps you will also change before being presented to court?” another guard suggested.

Despite their newfound respect for DeadBloods, these Ellismayberrians did not truly understand DeadBloods. They were not expected to dress in finery for an audience for they had no finery. Who had room in their pack for silk? A useless fabric in Tyr’s opinion.

Dyn stepped forward. “We do not even change for the royal court,” he explained. “Your lord and lady will understand.”

The guard certainly didn’t seem to, but nodded for them to pass.

Tyr lead his small group up the path, but headed away from the main castle, instead heading down to the stable area.

“This is just the stable?” Salista asked, awe in her voice.

Tyr did not begrudge her for her reaction. The stables truly were worthy of awe. Two stable boys trotted out to meet them. The two that had been here the last time Tyr had visited. One had a dark red scar running down his cheek that he had not had before.

Both boys were bright eyed and smiled widely. “It is good to see you back, sirs, m’lady.”

They bowed their head out of respect, but Dyn waved them off. “Just take care of our steeds.”

“They will dine on the wildest oats and the clearest rain water, sire,” the first boy assured them.

Tyr did not doubt it. The Ellismayberrians were known for their horsemenship and these two boys in particular had a love for the DeadBlood’s mounts.

“There is a shortcut that way,” the other stated. “It will take you directly to the staircase to the throne room.”

The first boy lowered his head and his voice, “The King and Queen are in attendance already. The scouts spotted you and rousted the castle. Everyone is up there waiting for you.”

Tyr hoped that no one saw the gulp he just took. For decades they had declined invitation to the royal palace. They were DeadBloods so it was allowed for them to snub the court.

He had not seen his parents since that fateful day that Dyn took him from his royal birthing room. It wasn’t just that Tyr had no desire to see his parents. Because really they weren’t his parents. His mother might have given birth to him, but it was Dyn who had raised him.

No, he didn’t want to see the King and Queen because he did not wish to see what he had missed. Now, his life made sense. He was DeadBlood. It was his life. But to see his mother and father? To see the life he might have led?

That felt like it might create a chink in his armor and by the gods, he needed his armor.

That is why he could not flinch from killing beasts. To give them any quarter would be his and Dyn’s death.

Salista could have this idealistic notion of saving beasts from themselves, but Tyr had no such illusion. Beasts hunted and were hunted. There was no capture, only killing. It was the way it had been for centuries and the way it must be for centuries to come.

He stayed quiet though, climbing the stairs to the Duke’s throne room was not the place to have such a discussion. As always he would allow Dyn to do all of the talking. He knew how to coax cooperation.

They reached the stop of the staircase and two beautiful young women parted the curtains. They were dressed in their Duchy’s deep purple and gold. Tyr did not even nod as he passed them. They were of little consequence.

Salista walked in a small circle as she entered the throne room, finally stopping and staring out the large window carved out of the rock.

“Sire,” Dyn said, bowing his head out of respect. DeadBloods were not required to fully bow or even kiss the King’s ring.

Tyr braced himself as the figures on the dais turned toward them.

The King looked like his portraits, only a bit older, greyer. His lips tugged up into a smile as he took his Queen’s hand and led her forward.

The Queen was more beautiful than any painter’s portrayal of her that Tyr had seen. She was resplendent in a blue dressed edged in silver. Now that was a fine use for silk.

“Tiber,” she breathed out. The word was so soft that Tyr could almost believe that he had not heard it.

Apparently she had spoken it though as Dyn corrected her, “His DeadBlood name is Tyr, your majesty.”

Were those tears in the Queen’s eyes as she answered, “Of course, I am sorry, Tyr.”

Despite the fact he was not compelled to, Tyr kneeled. “My Queen.”

“Rise, Tyr,” the Queen stated. “It is we all who should kneel to you.”

That of course was absurd, however, it did oddly warm Tyr’s heart.

“My liege,” Dyn stated, addressing the King. “We have an unprecedented threat from the beasts. They are organized to a dark end that we can only guess at. We must assemble all knowledge of beast attacks to find their location and attack in force.”

The King frowned. “But there have been none,”

“What do you mean none?” Tyr asked before he couched his tone. The King’s eyebrow went up, but he did not reprimand Tyr.

“I mean, none, zero. Ever since the attack on Ellismayberry, there had not been a single report of a beast attack.

Tyr frowned and looked to Dyn whose frown was even deeper. That could not be a coincidence. On average there was a beast attack a day across the lands. To have none for near on a month? To have a gap of this time was unheard of.

What was Vitalis planning?

“Sire, then our task is even more urgent,” Dyn stated. "He needs only the spark of the atom.”

Now the King’s frown was as deep as Dyn’s. “Where would he find such a thing now? In our age?”

That was the rub was it not? It would have made far more sense for Vitalis to have stayed back in time. Back when the spark of the atom was considered the pride of each and every kingdom. How much easier would it have been to obtain the spark back before the Harrowing?

None of this made any sense, which only sharpened Tyr’s distrust. He glanced to Salista who was nodding. She had tried to warn him that Vitalis was far more cunning than he gave his fallen brother. Now he had no choice but to assume the worst.

The King’s eyes narrowed. “You believe he is coordinating the beasts for a singular attack?”

Dyn lowered his head in acceptance. The entire large crowd, which had gathered to witness a DeadBlood reunited with his royal parents, gasped in unison. After such a recent and brutal attack on a Dutchy that had never even seen a beast, the concept of a concerted attack shook them to their core.

Truth be told, it shook Tyr to his core. He’d never gone up against more than a dozen beasts and that had felt like he was thick in the middle of the Harrowing. To think that Vitalis might gather dozens if not hundreds set his marrow to chill as well.

“And what do you recommend?” The King asked. Several heads turned at the question but the King didn’t seem to notice or care.

“We must deduce where Vitalis intends to gain the spark, then from there where he would be most likely to set it off.”

“My court would seem the logical choice, he was after all the heir to the throne before…”

Tyr gulped, they all knew what “before” they spoke. “Before” he was born. “Before” the greatest bloodline in the land was terminated. “Before” his birth brought down an entire dynasty.

Somehow he found Salista’s hand in his. She gave it a squeeze. Why would she do that? She had reason to hate him the most.

Dyn nodded again. “Yes, sire, his anger does seem to be focused on the royal court.” Tyr could not disagree. Most of Vitalis’ attacks had been on his homeland or the neighboring territories.

He had only attacked Ellismayberry for the tannins he thought would complete the artificial intent blood.

“Um, can I speak?” Alex asked from behind Dyn.

“Most certainly,” Dyn said. “You are DeadBlood.”

While most of their life they spent on the periphery of society, looked down upon, shunned, they were allowed to speak openly in any court of the land.

“Yah, well, back home in San Francisco,” Alex said, clearing his throat before he continued. “There were nuclear submarines in the bay.”

Salista whipped out her laptop. Alex wasn’t exactly sure what she thought she could do without Wifi or the company Google no longer in existence.

“Then why would he not have attacked in your time?” Tyr asked.

“Because they were mondo guarded, man,” Alex explained without really explaining. Tyr took mondo to greatly. “If even one is still there, he could just go and scoop out the stuff without any guards.”

“Maybe that’s why he came back home. To gather the material more easily,” Salista suggested closing her laptop. “I’ve confirmed what Alex suggested.”

“And who is she?” The Queen asked.

“A witch, m’lady,” Dyn stated. “But a most important witch. She comes from before the time of the Harrowing. Her blood is what brought Tyr back home.”

“Ah,” the Queen said bowing her head. “Then a most welcome witch she is.”

“If we ride now, it will take us two days to get back to the coast.”

“Aren’t there any cars or anything left from before?” Alex asked.

Dyn shook his head. “Everything before the Harrowing was destroyed.”

“Everything?” Alex said. “There aren’t any collectors or anything? I mean, come on, we had Egyptian artifacts thousands of years after they were gone.”

* * *

The look that passed between Dyn and Tyr confirmed Alex’s suspicions. Someone had to not only be fascinated by the past, but profiting from it. Who cares if the car didn’t work, someone would use it as a flower pot just for the cache factor. Technology might have gone out of style, but greed and power displays never did.

Dyn looked to the Duke who stood behind the King. “Duke, I believe you have an extensive collection of pre-Harrowing vehicles.”

“Only for display,” the man croaked out as all eyes turned to him.

“Let us be the judge of that,” Dyn stated.

The Duke looked less than encouraged until the King stated, “There will be no repercussions.”

The Duke gave a nod and stepped off the dais.

“Before we go, we must have at least a dozen of beast hardened men,” Dyn said.

“You will have better than that,” the King replied. “I have brought my own men and we have put out the call all month. You shall have at least two hundred men at our disposal.”

By the look on Dyn’s face, that was a lot. To Alex that didn’t sound like that many.

“There are also DeadBlood coming in from every part of the country. They knew something was amiss when the beasts stopped attacking.”

“Excellent,” Dyn stated. “Have all to the north converge on your castle and have the rest head to the Bay.”

“It shall be done,” the King said almost like he was the servant.

Alex had been in the land less than a day, but even he understood what extraordinary events were occurring.

The King clapped twice and the large assembly of people melted away. You could barely hear a footstep, they were just gone. Only the royal couples and a few guards remained.

“Let us see these relics of yours,” Dyn ordered.

The Duke led them out the back of the throne room, through a small door positioned behind a tapestry representing the wine country. The staircase that led down was dark and didn’t seem to have been used in a while. It kind of smelled like ass, but Alex didn’t say anything. He knew the look he’d get from Salista.

Finally, they came to another door that led out into the back courtyard. Just across the cobblestones and fountain was a large barn. It looked like every other barn on the property, large and wooden. Only this one, unlike the rest, had a large iron padlock on it.

So the Duke took his collecting seriously. Especially since it appeared that collecting antiques from before the Harrowing was illegal. Which probably made people want to do it all the more.

The Duke pulled out a big ass iron key and opened the barn. The inside was like a vintage car display. The dude was like the Jay Leno of his time. There was a Caddie, a sweet Corvette and even a well-preserved Bentley.

Alex ran his hand along their waxed hoods. Each one in pristine condition. Then he came upon his absolute favorite. A little silver Aston Martin. It was sleek and looked like James Bond could jump right in.

He threw himself over the hood. “We’ve got to take this one.”

Salista shook her head. “Be sensible, Alex. Those things broke down just driving down a perfectly new freeway. We’ve got to pick something that can off road, since that is how we are more than likely get there.”

Alex pouted, but knew that his sister was right. The Aston was low to the ground, great for taking curves, not so great for going over broken tree branches.

Salista point to a beat up old Jeep. “This should do the trick.”

She turned to the Duke. “Do you have any gasoline?”

The man looked stricken, shaking his head “no.” However, his wife pointed to the back of the barn. “It is stored underground.”

Alex felt under his foot. Sure enough, there was concrete. The barn must have been built over an old gas station.

“I do not like it,” Tyr said.

* * *

Sal didn’t doubt it. Tyr was out of his comfort range.

“This is going to be a hell of a lot faster than the horses,” she explained. “We should be back to the Bay in a few hours.”

Tyr frowned but didn’t rebuke her. Quite the improvement.

“That quickly?” Dyn asked.

“If we can find a decent road, yes,” Sal responded.

The thane’s eyebrow went up. “What of the horses?”

Sal had the sense that the horses were more than steeds to Dyn and Tyr. They were companions.

The King stepped forward. “I will have my men bring the horses behind you with supplies and more troops.”

Tyr did not seem entirely satisfied with that answer, but again he did not argue.

“Does this one stop?” he asked.

“Of course,” Sal responded. “Why?”

“Because the yellow ones in your time did not.”

True, too true.

CHAPTER 12

Tyr did not like the sensation of “riding” in the Jeep. It felt like a thousand mini-earthquakes were rumbling under his seat.

Metal squealed loudly as Salista “shifted gears.” It sounded more like she was opening the gates of hell. The Jeep lurched, grinding branches under its tires. Salista had found the remnants of a “highway,” although to Tyr it seemed to dip down deeper into the valley.

“We’re making pretty good time,” Salista said with a smile, her hair fluttering behind her. Alex though didn’t seem so happy, clutching the “roll bar” with both hands. “We should be there by nightfall.”

“We can only hope that Vitalis has not acquired what he needed.”

“Trust me, it will be harder to get than Alex led on to believe. The nuclear material is kept behind many metal doors.”

That was the best news that Tyr had heard. Metal was the most resistant to blood magic. Hopefully Vitalis was still stymied by the containment. Tyr could not think of any other outcome. Each was too horrendous to ponder.

“Ah, this brings back memories,” Salista said, waving at the countryside.

“How so?” Alex asked.

“I used to date a guy in Sonoma during junior college,” Salista answered.

“Oh man, you are lucky mom is dead!” Alex responded. “’Cause she would full on kill you! You weren’t supposed to date until after college.”

“Yes, well,” Salista said, glaring at her brother in the rearview mirror, “If we are going to open up the can of ‘supposed to’s I think we know who would win.”

Alex glowered in the backseat, grumbling so quietly Tyr could not hear what he said, however he could guess. Young adults were apparently the same no matter what age you lived in.

Salista glared for a moment longer, perhaps to make sure her brother didn’t retort back, then turned her attention to the road ahead. The “highway” had long ago been buried under dirt and grass, but the general width and flatness had been maintained. The vehicle was traveling so quickly that Tyr had a hard time making out individual trees in the forest that surrounded the road.

It felt unnatural to travel more quickly than a horse could at a full gallop.

Once they crested a small hill, the bay spread out before them.

“Told you we made good time,” Salista smiled wide enough to show her beautiful white teeth. So straight. A rarity in his time.

“Good thing the Bay Bridge is still partially intact.”

As they neared the large structure, partially was the key word. The thing looked ready to fall into the water.

Salista put on the brakes, bringing them to a stop. She hopped out of the conveyance and put her hand to her brow. “Well, at least there isn’t a toll.”

Tyr grinned even though he wasn’t quite sure what she meant, however he could tell from her tone she was being playful. The first time since her mother’s death. He knew how heavily it weighed upon her. Guilt was a familiar feeling for him.

“Well, we’ve got to try,” Salista said to Dyn, who had stepped from the Jeep to join them.

“If we had the horses, we could have crossed with the channel with ease,” Tyr stated.

“Are you crazy, dude?” Alex asked. “We would have just been shark food.”

Dyn nodded. “There are many sharks in these waters, I doubt if we would have had any easier a crossing.”

With even his thane taking sides against him, Tyr argued no more. Silently they returned to the Jeep and Salista turned on the God awful “engine.”

To think that in her day people spent hours upon hours in these contraptions. No wonder they had descended so easily. They were desperate to get away from their lives.

Salista moved the Jeep out much more carefully then she had before, avoiding a large hole in the metal bracings. The wind picked up, stirring her hair around her face. She was so beautiful. So strong. So passionate. So brave. And he had used all of that against her. He’d broken down her walls, not to love her, but to break her completely.

He knew a normal man would apologize and promise to never act in such a way, but with the beast on a quest to break the world, how could he?

He was DeadBlood. He had a sole purpose. For the first time, he truly understood why the clerics had forbid DeadBloods from loving and being loved. If this was the result then Tyr felt the cleric wise men, indeed.

Tyr looked in the mirror to find Dyn and Alex’s heads bent over a sword, speaking softly. Tyr did not need to know the words to know what was being said. Dyn was instructing the youth in the way the sword was made, where its strengths lay and its weaknesses.

It brought a grin to his face. Was it that long ago that Dyn had done the same to him? Those were his favorite times. Those alone around the campfire or walking the horses through a quiet forest. When it was just Dyn and himself, discussing swordplay or how best to use intent blood.

He was surprised when so many of his LiveBlood contemporaries complained about having to go to their studies. Then Tyr realized that they were studying numbers and ancient words by a bard named Shakespeare. Then he understood their resistance.

Not so with Dyn. His stories were those of heroes, DeadBloods, braver than any man had a right to be, fighting off the beasts during the Harrowing. How his kind saved the world from descending into madness.

He learned math by tracking beasts and calculating the distance they were apart and how fast they must travel to intersect their course. He learned his manners from watching Dyn negotiate their passage through friendly and unfriendly lands. Then of course he learned much that his contemporaries did not, like how it was easiest to decapitate a beast at the vertebra just under the skull. That no matter how descended the beast had become, that joint was always the weakest.

A weight felt as if it settled onto Tyr’s shoulders. It was a good thing that Alex was a DeadBlood, was it not? They needed as many as possible to fight this beast’s ploy. Yet somehow it saddened Tyr to think of Alex having to lose his easy laugh. His quick smile. The boy was so much that, a boy. He still had his youth.

By seventeen, Tyr was already a battle-hardened warrior. There was no going back for him. Could they spare Alex the weary life of traveling from village to village, rousting beasts day and night?

Under the current circumstances, Tyr could not. They would need each and every DeadBlood they could gather.

Tyr’s body swayed as Salista swerved around a large hole in the bridge.

“Yah, I’d put on my safety belt,” Salista said.

“My what?” Tyr asked.

“Buckle up everyone,” Salista said, then leaned over Tyr, grabbed a metal latch and pulled a thin strip of cloth across his chest. She then latched the metal into an odd contraption. “There.”

After that she sped up, the Jeep hitting clods of grass as they crossed the rickety bridge. The waters roiled below as if the sharks were anticipating their next meal.

Salista swerved again to avoid a hole. Ahead though there was a hole so large that there would be no swerving.

“Hang on!” Salista shouted.

“Sis, you are no Evil Knievel.”

Tyr did not know the reference, but Salista smiled and hit the pedal even harder. The Jeep vaulted off the edge, sailing for a moment like a kite, then slammed back down on the other side. Or at least the front tires did. The rear tires spun trying to find purchase on the edge.

“Alex, get to the front!” Salista shouted.

“You just told me to strap in!” Alex moaned as he fumbled with the metal latch.

* * *

Jeez, ever since Salista became the troublemaker, she’d gone at with gusto. Trying to jump that gap in the bridge. She’d gone mental.

And now it was up to him to fix it. He suddenly had a new appreciation for his sisters long suffering ways. This was a pain in the booty to have to sweep in and save the day.

Popping his seatbelt off, Alex scrambled between the seats. Kneeing Salista in the jaw in the process, he made it over the windshield and onto the hood of the car. Dyn was right after him.

The Jeep teetered and tottered over the ledge, the steel groaning under the pressure. Alex feared the centuries old metal would just snap in two.

Then slowly, ever so slowly, the Jeep started to tip forward, then all of a sudden the tires got traction and the Jeep shot forward. If Alex hadn’t been hanging onto the windshield wipers, he would have gotten thrown off.

As it was, Tyr was standing up, leaning over the windshield, helping pull Dyn back into the Jeep. Next was Alex. As he was passing through, he accidently stepped on the gearshift. The transmission screamed until Salista got it back into gear.

He was barely seated when Salista pulled to a stop.

“What now?” Alex groaned.

But when he rose up to see, there was no danger, just a vista full of rolling hills, forest and the glimmering bay. Nothing seemed amiss, except for, you know, Oakland was gone, just gone. How many millions of people and buildings and cars, gone?

“We’ll drive a little further,” Salista said, “But then we’ll have to go in on foot so they don’t hear us coming.”

Tyr nodded and Salista stepped on the gas again, hard enough to throw Alex back into his seat. He settled back in for the bumpy ride.

It wasn’t ten or fifteen minutes later that Salista pulled to a stop. “I’m pretty sure the path down that way lead to the old naval base. We’ll sneak in and scuttle the sub.”

“Salista, hon, you have been watching way too much Showtime Extreme.”

“What?” Salista shot back. “It’s what we’ve got to do to keep the nuclear material out of the beast’s hands.”

“Yah, but you know how to do that about as well as I do,” Alex commented.

“I think blowing a pretty big hole in the side of the sub will sink it.”

Alex shrugged. “Touché.”

He looked over the vista. Again, it was just spooky. This was the south bay. This place was like urban central. One of the places that the tree huggers used to call “urban blight.” All concrete and sketchy bodegas.

Now though? Nothing but lush forest and the occasional meadow. Boy, those tree huggers would sure be proud now. Of course they had been dead for hundreds of years, still, they’d be mighty proud.

Alex hopped out of the Jeep and took the packs that Dyn offered him, until the third one. “Dude, I’ve only got two arms.”

Tyr though shoved the third pack at him, “Then double up.”

There was no arguing with the man towering over him. So with only a slight whimper, Alex shrugged on the extra pack. Even so, there was no way they were going to be able to carry all of the gear and supplies that they had brought.

“I’ll put the Jeep under the canopy and we’ll use this as our home base,” his sister said.

Salista was turning into an official G.I. Jane. Even Tyr nodded at her. Weird. Guess her bossy ways paid off after all.

Back already aching, Alex followed the rest of the group down a narrow path that lead to the water. It wasn’t far until they hit a flat look-out point.

Everyone lay down on their bellies, surveying the bay.

“Are you sure this is it?” Salista asked.

“Yeah, see that thing that looks like an old pine? That was the base’s flag pole.”

“You are sure?” Salista emphasized.

“Jeez, yes. I went on a field trip here last year,” Alex explained.

The base had officially shut down in the nineties, however one of the subs had been left behind as a museum. His juvie class had gone on an all-day field trip to the place.

“The dock is gone, but the sub was just around that bend.”

“If it wasn’t destroyed during the Harrowing,” Tyr stated.

“No, see…” Alex pointed to a thin piece of metal barely sticking up above the water. “I think when the crap hit the fan back then, they just submerged it. That is its radio wire.”

The huge installation was gone. All of the bunkers, warehouses and buildings no longer existed. There were just a few fishing shacks along the water.

“Maybe they couldn’t find it?” Alex suggested.

Then a tall man, his hair plaited out, making a mini-mane stepped from a shack, then dove into the water.

“Or maybe not...”

Tyr took in a sharp breath. Dyn squinted against the late afternoon light, reflecting off the water. The fog was just starting to roll in. Soon the area would be covered in it and pitch black.

“We’ve got to move quickly,” Dyn stated.

Tyr nodded. “Leave anything we don’t need for the fight.”

That meant two thirds of Alex’s packs. He had been carrying mostly the food and pots. He was more than happy to shed the extra weight.

“Remember what I told you?” Dyn asked.

Alex gulped and nodded. His blade had been anointed in intent blood. Fear blood. It turned out that most blood worked best in opposition. Dyn had tried to explain why, but Alex had gotten lost after the term praxis alternis. Alex was cool with opposites. He got opposites.

Dyn had given him a vial of attraction blood, which if he smashed it on himself, should repel the beast for at least a few moments. On his sash was also some cold blood, which if thrown onto a beast should set them afire. There was one other vial that Alex couldn’t remember what in the heck it did. He’d use that as a last resort.

Hopefully he shouldn’t need any of it.

How many beasts could be down there anyway? Besides, Tyr and Dyn were carrying the “big guns.” At Ellismayberry they had stocked up on all kinds of blood. Salista had even gotten a semi-automatic weapon from the Duke with a full clip. Alex was definitely plan “B.”

* * *

Sal gripped the gun. She took some strength from the cool metal. Sal had always been pro-gun control her whole life. Especially in the Mission District where you saw the result of gun violence every day. But she was tired of feeling helpless. She could only use blood magic if she was completely calm and unafraid, which turned out not to happen too frequently.

She clutched her laptop bag to her chest. She knew that it made no sense carrying the computer around, but she couldn’t let go of it. It would be like abandoning a child. Knowing if Tyr ever came back, it would be bad news, Sal had commissioned a custom leather laptop case that was reinforced and waterproof. Guess they were going to put that to the test soon.

Tyr and Dyn were in front of her, carefully carving a path for them through the underbrush. They were only a few yards away from the fishing shacks. This all seemed too easy. The beasts hadn’t even put up a perimeter. No guards. No scouts. No lookouts.

It was like they felt completely safe and secure without any of that. Did Vitalis really believe that they wouldn’t figure out where the closest nuclear reactor was?

Tyr held up his fist. Sal stopped. Alex bumped into her back. Normally she would rebuke him, but given the circumstances Tyr would probably reprimand her for breaking the silence.

Two nearly descended beasts padded out from the closest shack. One put his nose to the air and sniffed. Sal gulped. Dyn had covered them in camouflage blood. The beasts shouldn’t be able to smell them. Especially Sal. She was the only LiveBlood in the group.

Finally, the beast lowered his nose and walked toward the shore. A more human-shaped man surfaced, wearing a homemade air bell. He tugged the helmet off, gasping for air. Apparently they hadn’t quite gotten the design right.

Which gave Sal hope. If they were still diving, and especially needing the air bells, they hadn’t found what they were looking for.

Tyr pulled out the C4 that they had found at the Duke’s. It appeared that the man had a fondness for all types of antiques. Of course they hadn’t found a detonator, but Tyr felt certain that he could ignite the explosive with intent blood.

That was his area.

Then a loud gurgling filled the air. Birds squawked and reeled in the air. A rabbit shot past as the sound grew louder and louder as the sub breached the surface.

The damned beast had figured out how to raise the sub. This was not good.

That sentiment was reflected in Tyr’s eyes.

“We must move quickly and without hesitation,” Tyr stated. “Now.”

Sal agreed, but still she was reluctant to nod her head. She’d been in close quarters with beasts before. But on a sub? That just sounded suicidal. What else could they do? They couldn’t let the beast get the nuclear material.

The top hatch opened and a woman with dregged out hair climbed up. A full maned beast, Vitalis, climbed out behind her. Now that was a sight. An apparent lion climbing out of a sub. But this was no lion. This was evil incarnate.

“I do not want to hear anything of capture and reversion,” Tyr whispered harshly.

Sal didn’t argue. She should argue. She knew in her bones that the serum could leech out all of the corrupted intent blood from Vitalis, but seeing him in his full glory. That arrogant smirk. That all-powerful red aura he exuded, Sal just wanted him dead. It was wrong, but that was how she felt.

The beast sniffed the air, then went back down below. The woman came to the edge and another nearly human accomplice, shoved a makeshift wooden plank over to the sub. It hit the metal shell with a clang. She walked down, shouting orders. Another six assortment of beasts and accomplices poured from the shacks.

It had been bad enough when Sal thought they were up against three of them, but a total of at least eight? With who knew how many below decks?

This was looking more and more like a suicide mission. What had she gotten Alex into?

“Maybe we should leave Alex out,” Sal whispered to Tyr but he shook his head.

“He is…”

“DeadBlood, yes I know,” Sal retorted. “But he’s untrained.”

Tyr nodded to the sub. “This is his training.”

Ugh, there was no arguing with Tyr. She had to keep that in mind as she found herself staring at his lips, surrounded by a full cheek of stubble. She could remember nibbling on that chin. Just the memory made her body flush.

Only the thought of a brutal death took her mind off the past passion and back to the current circumstances.

“So what is the plan?” Sal asked.

Okay, you knew it was bad when Tyr didn’t answer.

CHAPTER 13

Tyr did not know what to say to Salista. The path ahead was clear. It was bloody and dangerous, but clear. They would have to take on the rabble on the shore, then place the explosive paste on the metal tube, ignite it and hopefully not only sink the spark of the atom, but the beast as well.

In explanation, Tyr pulled out his bow and loaded an intent arrow. Dyn did the same. Time to thin the ranks.

Tyr took aim and let loose an arrow. It hit the female accomplice right in the neck. She clutched at the arrow as blood poured from the wound, but could not raise the alarm. Dyn’s arrow was equally effective on the nearest male accomplice.

Quickly he reloaded and shot at the near beast. He was on all fours, facing away from Tyr so the best he could do was shoot the near beast in the haunches. He let out a growl, attracting the other two accomplices. Dyn took another one down. Now that he beast turned to the threat, Tyr had a clear shot and took it. The arrow struck in the forehead. The beast listed from side to side then fell over, twitching.

The sole remaining accomplice, nearly human, ran off into the brush.

Probably the wisest thing the man had done in his sorry life.

The whole assault had taken less than a minute and they had gained unfettered access to the metal boat.

Staying low, Tyr rushed from the brush, just in case there were any accomplices hiding and headed to the submarine. He walked up the plank to the vessel itself.

“You need to put it under the water level so the sub will take on water,” Salista explained.

He took the wad of clay-like explosive and pushed it against the metal shell, just under the water line. He then took a vial of blood from his bandoleer and smashed it against the clay.

Tyr waved the others back and he retreated down the gangplank himself. It should only be a few moments until the explosion. The blood glowed brightly under the water, sparkling a brilliant orange

He made it all the way back to shore, but nothing happened. Tyr waited a few more breaths, but still nothing.

“Did the blood not ignite?” Salista asked.

“No, the blood was as hot as you said you needed,” Dyn stated. “It is the clay that did not explode.”

“Maybe it was too old?” Alex suggested.

So much for Salista’s modern ways. Tyr drew his sword. “We must go onboard.”

“Wait,” Salista said. “I can try to shoot holes. It won’t be as quick, but it should be effective.”

She raised the metal weapon that she had coveted so much and pulled the small metal trigger. Again, nothing happened. She shook the weapon, pulling back and bolt over and over again, but still nothing.

Alex shrugged, “Guess we are going to have to do this the old fashioned way.”

That sounded just fine to Tyr.

* * *

Sal cursed her luck. She’d so hoped the C4 and gun had worked. If there was anything her time frame had done, it was be able to blow stuff up remotely. But apparently a few centuries had taken even that away from her.

She could stay on shore. No one would complain. She was LiveBlood, she did not have the same weight upon her as the DeadBloods, but she couldn’t send Alex and Tyr in without her. To have either one of them not come back, she would always wonder if she could have done something to save them.

It was horrible to watch her mother die in front of her, but at the least she had been there. She knew exactly what happened. There had been nothing she could do about it. She didn’t have to imagine it.

So here she was behind Dyn and Tyr with Alex bringing up the rear. They climbed the gangplank. Tyr lifted his foot over the metal lip and stepped onto the submarine.

His footfall was silent, as was Dyn’s. Sal was not so lucky. Even her tennis shoe clanged against the metal. Everyone froze.

Had she been heard?

“Natasha?” a voice called up from below.

Tyr looked to her.

Salista cleared her throat. What did a descending female sound like? “Yeah.”

Tyr’s eyebrow went up as to ask if she couldn’t do better. At this point, the answer was “no.”

“Then hurry up, Vitalis is getting impatient.”

Sal bet he was. To have the spark of the atom he needed so close, yet unable to obtain, must have vexed the beast.

Tyr slung his bow and quiver over his shoulder and pulled out his short sword. Descending the metal steps down into the submarine. Dyn followed. There was a short scream, cut off mid-breath, then silence. Before going below, Sal scanned the beach. No other accomplices rushed out to help.

That had to be a good sign, right?

As quickly as she could with her hands shaking, Sal made it down the ladder. One of the more human accomplices was dead on the deck, his blood dripping down through the grating. He had only descended a bit. If you didn’t look into his wide-open eyes and their vertical pupil, you would think him a man.

It seemed worse when they looked so human.

Tyr however didn’t hesitate, he moved down the corridor toward the rear of the submarine. That is where Alex said the nuclear reactor lay. The passage was cramped. Narrow and low with all manner of pipes and levers lining the wall. Tyr’s shoulders barely fit. Sal seldom felt claustrophobic, but she could feel the walls closing in.

You could tell this submarine was from her time. It felt cold and impersonal. Artificial and unnatural. She’d only been in Tyr’s world for a few hours and already she could begin to understand his contempt for her time.

They made their way back. Passing several doors. Some had sounds behind them, some did not. They did not open any of them. They had their target and Tyr did not waiver from it.

Finally they could go no further. They found themselves at a large hatch. The wheel spun closed.

“This is the way?” Tyr asked Alex.

Her brother nodded.

They all took a breath. None knowing what lay beyond, but all fearing the same thing. Vitalis had to have gone somewhere. And he certainly would not be down here alone.

Sal took a deep breath. It might be the last one she drew.

* * *

Tyr put his hand on the cold metal and turned the wheel. It squealed and complained, but turned. They had lost all element of surprise though. Vitalis could not have missed that metal on metal sound.

Finally there was a loud thud and the door gave free. Tyr had his weapon already drawn. The only benefit to these tight quarters is that it would be difficult for the beasts to overwhelm them.

To his surprise, they entered into a bunk area. Hammocks were slung the length of the compartment. The next thing he noticed was a stench that nearly made him gag.

Eyes adjusting to the darkness, Tyr realized that several of the bunks were filled. Their occupants though did not seem to pose any danger. Instead they moaned in their beds, oblivious to the interlopers amongst them.

Carefully, making sure it was no ruse, Tyr made his way down the passage. The accomplices already descended faces were even more distorted. Some looked like their features were melting off.

“Oh my god,” Salista breathed out.

“What is it?” Tyr asked as she stepped back from the first accomplice.

“I think… I think they tried to extract nuclear material without any radiation protection.”

“It would do such a thing to even those not descended?” Dyn asked.

Salista nodded. “To any biological matter. It destroyed the cell at its base level.”

“Are they contagious?” Tyr asked, keeping as much distance as he could from the sick men.

Salista frowned also backing away. “Not in the traditional sense, but they may still be contaminated with the radiation that could make us sick.”

Tyr did not like this invisible killer. This radiation. It was like reckless, master less intent blood with no counter agent. Tyr did not like it at all.

“Does this radiation carry in the air?” Dyn asked.

“Yes,” Salista said as she indicated to further down the bunkroom to the next hatch. “If they have unsafely opened the nuclear core, we might not be able to get any closer.”

Perhaps that wasn’t a bad thing. “Which means that the beast might be suffering the same fate as these men?”

“If he is unprotected, yes.” Salista confirmed.

“Wait,” Alex said. “On the tour they said something about each segment having it’s own dosimeter.”

“Dosimeter?” Tyr asked.

“Yah, yah,” Alex replied making a square with his hands. “It isn’t very big. It should be black with a needle that moves depending how much radiation is present.”

“Then let us find this dosimeter,” Dyn stated.

Everyone searched the small, tight cabin.

“It should be hung on the wall,” Alex stated.

Tyr looked down the passage to the next hatch. An item very similar to what Alex described was there. “Is that it?”

Alex nodded his head vigorously. Tyr went to retrieve the item, but Salista grabbed his arm. “It may not be safe.”

“How else will we know if not for this device?” Tyr asked her. He appreciated her concern but she clearly had not yet learned what the definition of DeadBlood was. If they waited each moment until it was safe, no DeadBlood would ever move, ever.

Salista’s hand fell from his arm. Even she must have realized the need. “When you get close enough, look to see where the needle is. If it is in the red, don’t go any further.”

Tyr nodded. If the needle was in the red, then perhaps the beast was taking care of himself. His ambition getting the better of him.

Stepping away from the rest, he passed another man wheezing in his hammock, fluid seeping from his ruined forehead. Not even the descended should suffer such as this.

With each step, Tyr found it harder to breath. He did not think it was anything truly in the air, but his own concern. The thought of lying on a hammock, helpless, seeping, dying in his own fluids caused even his stride to waver.

The beast might be cunning, but apparently not cunning enough and his men were paying for it.

Tyr squinted, trying to see the thin needle. Which way was it tilting? Unfortunately he still could not see it clearly. He had to take another step forward toward the invisible rays that could turn him into a golem of his former self.

He looked back. Salista had her fingers woven together clutched to her chest as if she might be praying. Alex’s concern was etched upon his young features. Only Dyn, a true DeadBlood, had an unreadable expression. If anything he seemed slightly annoyed that Tyr was taking so long to travel so little.

Heartened by his thane’s faith in him, Tyr took another step, then another. Finally the needle was coming into focus. It seemed to hover, bouncing a little back and forth between the black and the red.

Apparently that was not good.

But they needed the item. So taking a deep breath, Tyr held it and rushed forward, pulling the dosimeter from the wall and retreating as quickly as he could.

He was back to the group faster than a jack rabbit could blink.

* * *

Sal knew something was wrong by the way Tyr moved. Usually he was graceful and dignified. That run back from the hatch was anything but.

“Give me that,” Salista said, taking the small wand from its perch and waving it over Tyr. The needle stayed firmly in the black. It had a few little hiccups, jiggling wildly, but it stayed in the black.

Sal let out a sigh of relief. “What was it showing at the hatch?”

Tyr seemed reluctant to answer.

“Was it in the red?”

“Part of the time.”

So the next compartment was contaminated. They would be going no further forward. Sal turned to the other men, waving the wand over them. The needle inched to the red, but did not cross it.

The men had suffered a fatal dose but had not stayed in long enough for the radiation to contaminate their clothes and skin. Even though these men were the enemy, she wished she could do something for them. But given the fact there wasn’t a hospital around for about five hundred years, she could do little to help them.

One of the men reached out and grabbed her hand. “Please, kill me. Kill me.”

Sal jerked her hand back. That request was way outside of her Hippocratic oath.

Tyr raised his weapon, but Sal caught his arm. “No.”

“But he has asked to be released from his pain,” Tyr responded. Dyn nodded.

This debate was age old. Euthanasia or suffering. In her mind she knew this man would only experience agony, then die. There was no chance to save him. Or was there?

“We have the solution,” Sal stated.

Tyr frowned. “You do not even know if it will work against this invisible killer.”

No, she didn’t, damn it.

“And when we run out and Alex lay bleeding, what will you tell him?” Tyr stated.

God, she really hated the DeadBlood right about now. She wasn’t used to moral dilemmas. She was used to operating in a black and white world. In a large city ER, she had all the tools she usually needed to heal someone. There was no zero sum factor. They triaged by need, not by moral standing. She treated sinner and saint. She didn’t look to see if the person was a cop or a killer. She simply treated them.

Now though, her comfortable life had been overturned. Here her decisions had real life, possibly devastating consequences. What if she used some of their artificial HeartsBlood on this man and it didn’t even heal him? And Tyr’s projection that Alex would be laying in a pool of his own blood was not far off. If this quest for the beast went anything like the last time, they’d all be bloodied or worse.

“Please, let him kill me,” the man moaned, then coughed and coughed, until he hacked up a bloody piece of lung tissue.

Dyn put his hand on Sal’s shoulder. “This should not be on you. Go back to the other compartment.”

Sal resisted that option though. Wasn’t that just her giving up her convictions? Her ignoring her oath?

“Come on, Salista,” Alex said. “I don’t want to be here either.”

Alex tugged her toward the forward hatch. Sal looked down upon the man begging for his death. His eyebrows were gone already. His lips were cracked and oozing. The whites of his eyes were yellowed as his liver shut down.

There was no hope there. Even with the artificial HeartsBlood, she wasn’t sure even it could correct all of the damage done on the DNA level. Radiation was a bitch, even with the most advanced medicine in her age, this man would die.

A horrible, painful death.

With that thought in mind, Sal turned and followed Alex through the hatch.

* * *

Alex held his sister’s hand as he led her into the forward compartment. Dyn shut the hatch behind them. Alex knew exactly how his sister felt. He’d gotten the sanctity of life lecture enough times from her to recite it by heart.

And then with their dad’s cancer, she had lived through it. Alex was too young to really remember much. He just knew that the hospice place had smelled like old people and he didn’t want to go.

What kind of kid doesn’t want to visit their dying father? On the other hand, the experience had crystalized Salista. From that moment on, she had become dedicated to being a doctor. To helping people in need.

And now she was letting Tyr put an end to those men suffering. It must be killing her inside.

His sister’s head hung down, tears streaming down her face.

“It shouldn’t be like this,” she whispered.

“None of this should be like this,” Alex said, smoothing his sister’s flyaway hair. If people knew what he future held, they sure as hell wouldn’t be complaining back in his day.

This new world was harsh and brutal. Instead of having flying cars and motels on the moon, they didn’t even have indoor plumbing. And to top it off there was a crazy ass beast that wanted to rip the world apart at the seams.

Yah, so much for the promise of Tomorrow Land. Disney full-on lied.

And once again the world was divided by social strata. And low and behold he was at the bottom of the rung again. Not because of his skin color but because he was a DeadBlood. He really couldn’t catch a break could he?

And of course his sister was a bright, shiny LiveBlood. One of the purist. Surprise, surprise. She had always been the shining star of his family, why would five hundred years change that?

There was a short scream, then nothing. Sal put her forehead on his shoulder and sniffled.

There were so many times when his mother had told him that he needed to grow up. To transition from a boy to a man. He’d always thought that was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. He’d truly believed that there was no difference.

Until now. It wasn’t swinging a sword or standing up to a beast that had transformed him. It was right now. Comforting his sister. He could feel the shift in side of him. He was a man now. And his mother wasn’t even alive to see it.

It hurt to know that he’d grown up a day too late. Going after the beast in his mother’s apartment had been a boyish move. A desperate one. A reckless one. Salista had been right. His mother’s death was at his feet.

Alex decided that being a man sucked.

CHAPTER 14

Tyr sheathed his sword. The task was done. The men had been put out of their misery. A misery that his brother had brought upon them. And where was he? Certainly not tending to his men’s needs.

Dyn moved to the forward hatch. “Let us make sure none other are harmed in this way.”

Tyr could only imagine the widespread devastation if the beast got hold of the spark of the atom to create his weapon. These men’s injuries would pale in comparison.

Dyn opened the hatch. Salista turned away from her brother, searching his features. Perhaps hoping that he had not completed his task. Could she still be so naïve as to who he was? Despite them being accomplices to the beast, he could not allow them to suffer such as that another moment longer.

It was Dyn that announced, “It is done.”

Salista sobbed once, then covered her mouth, turning away from them. Her brother’s arm encircled her shoulders. Above her head though, Alex nodded. He seemed to understand. And was he standing taller? Straighter? Did his eyes have a shadow of wisdom they had not had before?

“We must search the rest of the vessel to be sure that the beast has not absconded with any of the spark.”

“I agree,” Alex said as he tugged his sister to the side to let them through.

“But to where?” Tyr asked. “We could search for days and still not find each and every cranny this vessel has to offer.”

Alex pointed to a placard on the wall. “In each room is a description of what it is, in additional to a small map that guides you through the main areas of the sub.”

Tyr stared at the white plaque with black symbols. It as much like what an architect would draw before building. He pointed to the area to the rear. “That back compartment has another exit. Down to the bottom level.”

“Perhaps that is where the beast is?” Dyn suggested.

There was only one way to find out.

“Perhaps it is best if you stay here,” Tyr offered Salista, but she shook her head.

“I’d rather not be a fawn left hidden in the woods.”

With no further discussion they set out forward to find the ladder that took them down to the belly of the vessel.

There was no movement. No sounds. Had the beast already vacated the submarine?

They had seen him go in, but the vessel was like a labyrinth. The beast easily could have doubled back and exited without them knowing of it.

Dyn went down first. Tyr moved aside for Salista and Alex to go down next. The climb was an easy one and very quickly they were all on the lower level.

A loud clang came from the rear of the vessel.

Tyr shoved Salista to Alex. “Protect your sister.”

He joined Dyn as his thane made his way toward the sound. Both of their swords were drawn and ready. A scuffle up ahead warned them of the enemy’s movement.

They approached the next hatch, taking positions on either flank. The wheel spun and the hatch opened.

The first man through was clearly affected by the thing that Salista called radiation. He hobbled, tripping himself on the lip of the hatch. He stumbled, nearly falling to the ground. His robe shifted, revealing oozing sores on his arms. Tyr drew back further from the man.

The second wasn’t in much better shape, but he was carrying a small box, clutched to his chest. The third was a woman, stronger, not nearly as weakened by the radiation as the rest.

The dosimeter in Salista’s hand sprang to the red, letting out a shrill warning.

Losing their element of surprise, Dyn, slammed the hatch closed, spinning the wheel so that none other could easily come to help their comrades.

Tyr’s blade arced up and over, coming down on the shoulder of the first man who tried to turn to defend himself. His sword clattered on the steel deck. Tyr reversed motion, coming up, knocking the box from the second man’s hands. He tried to back away, but the woman behind him put a sword in his back.

“Coward,” she hissed kicking him forward off of her blade. She turned to face Tyr, but Dyn shoved his own blade deep into her back. The look on her face was that of surprise. At first Tyr did not think her too affected but now, up close, he could see that her face was made of molten wax. Her dark makeup streaked down her face in groves, no longer just an application, but part of her skin.

“Get back!” Salista yelled. “The box is full of radiation.”

Tyr looked to Dyn. Time to send the box back where it came from. He took his sword and lifted the box up by the handle. Dyn opened the hatch and Tyr threw the box back into the other compartment just before Dyn shut the hatch again.

Salista ran up, waving the wand over all of them. “We got lucky,” she said as the needle stayed in the black.

“Do we think that is the only box the beast was able to get out?” Alex asked.

“We have no way to know for sure,” Dyn answered.

“Maybe we do,” Salista suggested, waving the wand down the long passageway. “I think they might have done this before. There is some residual radiation this way.”

Tyr did not follow though. “As much as we must follow that trail, we must find a way to sink this vessel so that he can never obtain the spark.

* * *

Alex pointed to the placard again. Little did the museum staff know how vital these were going to be in the future.

“The ballast tanks are all around us, but the controls for them are forward,” Alex explained like somehow he was the expert on subs.

Salista shook her head. “The path goes starboard, not forward though.”

Alex looked to Tyr who looked to Dyn. In unison like they shared a brain they both nodded their heads. “We shall split up.”

That did not sound good.

Dyn however sounded confident. “I will follow Alex forward and sink the vessel while Tyr and Salista follow the radiation path.”

Tyr did not hesitate. He urged Salista forward but she didn’t budge. Her eyes were locked on his.

“It’s okay,” Alex said. “I think we’ve got the safer gig. I’m going to be fine. You be careful.”

Salista launched across the short distance, wrapping Alex into a hug that her mother would be proud of. Except for the fact that Salista nearly crushed the air out of him. It was like she thought she could infuse him with safety by sheer will alone. That and an iron grip.

“We must away,” Tyr said quietly. It wasn’t exactly an order, but it did get Salista to release Alex a little bit. She kissed him on the cheek.

“Listen to Dyn,” she urged.

“I wouldn’t dream of doing anything else,” Alex said, urging her back to Tyr.

He hated to tell her, but she was freaking him out more than he was just a few moments ago.

Luckily Dyn headed out so Alex had no choice but to follow.

He looked over his shoulder to find Salista following Tyr, but looking back over her shoulder. It was the first time they were separated since Tyr had shown up, bleeding and dying in Salista’s apartment.

Then they took a corner and Salista disappeared from sight.

“She is with Tyr,” Dyn said, apparently trying to reassure him. Like being with the guy would somehow automatically protect his sister.

But that was what Dyn appeared to believe and it was what Alex chose to believe.

Back to the task at hand, though. Alex checked the next placard. From the little red “you are here” dot, they were moving in the right direction. They needed to get to engineering.

Theirs was a pretty straight shot forward, up two levels and into the engineering room. It was all-quiet except for their muffled footfalls.

“This way,” Alex said as they reached a bulkhead. They needed to head up. Dyn moved Alex out of the way and climbed the stairs first. Alex was right on his booty. He thought the correct military term for it was “on his six,” but on his booty was probably more accurate. Alex did not want to get stuck down below without Dyn.

The next level up was equally quiet. Apparently the bulk of the beast’s accomplices were dead or dying. Not that Alex really grieved for any of them.

Who the hell tried to steal nuclear material? They kind of got what they deserved in Alex’s book.

A noise came from up ahead. Alex froze. Dyn remained equally still, yet Alex doubted if the thane’s innards were jumping around quite as much as Alex’s. The worst part was the stillness afterward. Someone, or something had made that sound, right? Now where were they?

After several breaths, Dyn walked forward a step, tilting his head. Sniffing the air. The problem with being down here was that everything smelled like the beast. The canned, recycled air didn’t do them a lot of good.

Another clang. Well, at least they didn’t seem to know that DeadBloods were on the sub. Silently he and Dyn moved forward, getting nearer and nearer to the sound of shuffling along with a few grunts.

Alex had his sword out, but the tip of it was swaying side to side as his hand shook. With his other hand he felt for the vials of blood on his sash. Would they be enough? Would he remember what in the heck they were in the heat of battle? Probably not.

He made sure that he was squarely behind Dyn.

And of course the sounds were coming from exactly the room that held the ballast controls. Wasn’t it always that way? Alex hated it when life imitated video games.

Dyn slipped forward. The hatch was already open. There were at least two accomplices in there. And from their cough, they weren’t doing so well. How many people exactly had the beast sent into the reactor without protection?

Alex remembered picture of the early X-ray pioneers, Roentgen and his homies. They took thousands of pictures of themselves only to have their skin slough off years later and die of a variety of cancers. Since they had never had experience before with that kind of radiation, they had no idea the tragic consequences.

The same seemed to apply here. Radiation was invisible and apparently the beast thought they could just walk right up to the reactor and take the material.

Ya, that didn’t work out so great for them.

Finally they were flush with the hatch. Dyn indicated that Alex should wait by the door. That was just fine by Alex.

Dyn swung, his cape flying as he rushed into the room. There was shouting. Then there wasn’t. From down the passage a roar responded. The steel grating beneath his feet shook as something large, really large came their way.

Alex spread his legs, creating a wider stance like Dyn had taught him. He braced for what was coming down the passage.

At first the figure was indistinct, just a fog of red mass. As it neared, it became clearer and clearer. It was a lion. Or at least a man that looked like a lion. It wasn’t the beast that killed his mother. That one had been larger with a much fuller mane.

This accomplice seemed not too far behind though. With each stride, it closed the distance. It was surreal to see an apparent lion running down a submarine’s deck.

Surreal and really, really terrifying.

“Dyn,” Alex managed to croak out before the beast hit him.

Fangs snarled, trying to sink into his neck. The only thing stopping the beast was Alex’s sword, which blocked the beast’s bites. Alex kicked, trying to dig his heel into the soft underbelly of the beast, but the thing hardly noticed.

Claws raked Alex’s side. Pain screamed, making it hard to breath. Would this be his end? Dying just like his mother?

Then Dyn was there, his sword whistled as it swung through the air. The blade clanged as it hit the beast in the back, then as it sliced there was a moist, gurgling sound.

Alex watched as the beast on top of him gasped. On the exhale, blood poured from the beast’s mouth, staining his glistening white teeth. Then the beast collapsed on top of Alex. Now he really couldn’t breathe.

Dyn though, pulled the beast back, dragging him across the steel grate.

Alex struggled to take in a breath. Dyn dropped to his knee, helping Alex sit upright.

“Take a shallow breath. Don’t pull so hard,” Dyn encouraged as he checked the rake marks on Alex’s side. “The wounds are not fatal. Barely a scratch really, so calm down and just breath naturally.”

Alex tried to take all of that in. When your brain was screaming for oxygen it was hard to override the urge to gasp as hard and long as you could. He closed is mouth and focused on breathing through his nose. Just a little breath.

Ah, sweet oxygen. He took another shallow breath, then another. Okay, his body was starting to work normally. However Dyn’s assessment that the wounds weren’t that bad sounded absolutely absurd.

How could he call five rake marks across his chest and side, a scratch? First of all there were five of them and blood was gushing from all of them.

Dyn ripped off a part of his shirt and pressed it up against the wounds. The white linen immediately became saturated with red.

“Put pressure here,” Dyn said as he stood.

“Wait,” Alex stated. “Where are you going?”

“To sink the ship,” Dyn answered.

“Do you even know how to?” Alex replied, struggling to get up.

Dyn’s frown was his answer. Okay, Alex may not be a submarine expert, but he had watched Red October like twenty time plus a whole host of other sub movies. He at the least had an idea of what he was supposed to be doing.

Alex lurched forward as Dyn helped him over the lip of the hatch. Two dead, half-descended, half melted accomplices were on the floor. Alex stepped over them toward the control panel.

Wow, there were a lot of controls. He found the ones labeled “ballast control” and started flipping switches. Suddenly the submarine rocked and the sound of water rushing in all around them filled the compartment.

Because he didn’t know what in the heck he was doing, the submarine suddenly tilted forward at a precarious angle. Instead of filling all of the ballast tanks with water at the same time, he must have started the ones at the nose of the boat.

“We better get out of here,” Alex said as the nose tipped forward even worse.

“Here,” Dyn said, “Lean on me.”

Alex didn’t so much as accept the offer as his body sagged into Dyn.

They made it out of the compartment and at a near run made for the stairs that would take them up to the outside hatch.

As his blood ran down his side, Alex couldn’t help but wonder how Salista and Tyr were doing.

CHAPTER 15

Sal watched the dosimeter. The differences between the various readings were very, very narrow. She really had to pay attention to each and every blip. She could feel Tyr becoming frustrated with their slow progress. And now with the ship listing dangerously? They did not have much time.

“That way,” Sal stated, pointing down a dark passage. It didn’t seem that anyone had been down this way for a while. Dust lined the floor and there were even spider webs covering the ceiling.

“You are certain?” Tyr asked.

Sal nodded. Some leaking nuclear material had passed this way and headed down that passage. It was difficult to do, as the grate beneath them was nearly vertical as the submarine sank.

Tyr moved in front of her. “Stay behind me.”

Sal was more than happy to comply. Still she waved the wand in a rhythmic fashion, sweeping the air for the material’s invisible signature. With each step the needle inched closer and closer to the red.

Tyr smashed a vial on the ground and it bloomed with light. Like, a lot of light, almost so bright that you couldn’t look on it. However, it did completely illuminate the dark corridor.

The black painted steel stood out in stark contrast to the light. They could see each and every pipe and junction. There was also a small hatch to the right that they might have missed in the dark.

Tyr stepped on the other side of the hatch, allowing Salista to use the wand on the door. The needle danced and bounced, almost seeming delighted to find such a wonderful source of radiation.

Which seemed to be stashed behind the door. But it if it was this hot outside the steel door, how hot was it inside?

“Maybe we should just let it sink with the sub?” Sal suggested.

“We cannot take the risk that one of them will save it from destruction.”

Tyr put his hand on the wheel and turned it. Once the hatch was opened, the light followed, illuminating the small room.

A young and apparently very scared accomplice was plastered against the back of the room, clutching a small package to her chest. The radiation was already doing its damage. The corner of her eyes were already sagging and it appeared her lips had melted off.

The dosimeter’s needle ping ponged in and out of the red and the submarine groaned as it slipped deeper and deeper into the bay.

“Give me the package,” Tyr stated, holding his hand out. “And no more harm will come to you.”

The young woman’s eyes darted back and forth between Tyr and Sal.

“Please just give him the box,” Sal said. “It’s killing you.”

This only made the woman clutch it to her chest even tighter. Then she did the oddest thing. She opened the box. The dosimeter went wild, hurling itself deep into the red numbers.

“Stop her!” Sal cried out once she realized what the woman was about to do. The woman grabbed the small, thin rods out of the box and then proceeded to swallow them. The needle pulled back just a little. It was still in the red, but the woman’s flesh was somewhat protecting them from the full brunt of the radiation. Which meant the woman’s internal organs were getting the brunt of it.

Tyr charged forward, but not before the woman downed the third and last rod.

“What do we do now?” Sal asked. The plan had been to take whatever they found and dump it over the side of the submarine, letting it sink to the bottom of the bay. It might contaminate the waters, but that was far better than allowing the beast to get ahold of the substance.

“We continue with the plan,” Tyr said as he jerked the woman upright.

“Wait,” Sal said blocking the hatch. She couldn’t believe that she was saying this. “The best possible outcome would be for her to be enclosed in the submarine. No one knows she swallowed the substance so they wouldn’t be looking for her.”

“That would require her not to be able to tell anyone what she did.”

Sal nodded. She couldn’t voice her agreement.

“Do you want to leave the room?” Tyr asked.

That would be the easy way out wouldn’t? The woman had just ingested enough radiation to kill a small city. They were actually doing her a favor not to make her live through her internal organs melting away.

“I’ll stay,” Sal said, regretting her decision already.

* * *

Tyr was surprised by Salista, but when wasn’t he surprised by her? She seemed to change and shift every moment. Evolving as he watched.

He turned to the woman. “Do you wish to say anything?”

The woman spat at him, her spittle landing on his face. Tyr wiped it away before Salista could even tell him that the spit was laced with the spark of the atom. He had figured that out by himself.

“Is there any family I should tell of this day?” Tyr asked as he had asked each of the men in the bunks.

For the first time the woman’s face softened even as it contorted in pain. Her death would be excruciating.

“My little brother,” the woman moaned. “Tell him I’m sorry.”

Tyr nodded. “And your village?”

“My family lives to the north of Sebastopol, on the coast. We are the Timmely’s.”

“I shall deliver your words as soon as I can,” Tyr answered.

The woman offered him her neck. “Please do not tell him of this. Let him believe I died with honor.”

“By my eyes, you are,” Tyr responded. People had odd ideas of what honor was. It was clear to him. In the end, she had done right by her people and herself.

“I will make this as painless as possible.”

The woman nodded, closing her eyes.

Tyr raised his sword, ready to deliver the blow when a roar, deep and angered rattled the small room.

“Here!” the woman screamed.

Salista barely jumped out of the way as the beast, swiped at her. She fell to the floor at Tyr’s feet.

The beast stepped into the doorway, blocking it all.

Tyr smiled. He had been waiting for this moment. Tyr, his bandoleer completely full, took out a vial of fear blood and anointed his blade. It shown a brilliant white.

“Do you wish to play, brother?” Tyr asked.

Vitalis snarled his response.

Tyr launched, arcing his sword high aloft. Vitalis stood his ground, which meant the hatch opening blocked Tyr’s swing. He would be no DeadBlood if he were not adaptable though. Instead of an overhead swing, Tyr brought his sword down and thrust it at the beast’s chest bone. Vitalis swatted the blow away, but Tyr had never thought he would land that blow.

No, he needed Vitalis out of the doorway. Which he accomplished. Now in the passageway, Tyr had far more room to maneuver and had opened a path for Salista to escape.

Why wasn’t she escaping?

* * *

Damn, for a woman who had just eaten enough radioactive material to obliterate a large city, she had a steely grip on Sal’s throat.

“Shall we die together?” The woman whispered in Sal’s ear.

Um, she’d rather not. Luckily the woman’s body shook with a rattling cough, just enough to loosen her grip. Sal sucked in a breath before the woman regained her hold.

Sal’s body urged her to issue an edict or simply throw her back, but she couldn’t do it this angry and afraid. That is how you descended.

The submarine listed again, now they were pointed nearly straight down. Sal grabbed hold of one of the pipes and tried to calm her mind. She had to be at peace.

Which was a little hard since the woman’s nails were digging into Sal’s flesh.

She had to let that go. She had to let the epic battle raging out in the hallway go. She had to let her concern for Tyr go. Her fear for her brother. She had to let it all slip away.

Instead she concentrated on her heartbeat. It pumped nearly pure LiveBlood. She had the power, she just had to wield it carefully.

“Will you go out like a lamb?” the woman hissed. “We will consume everything you hold dear.”

Sal didn’t rise to the bait. Instead she listened to her heartbeat that was going way too fast. She had to slow it.

“This is why you will all fall before Vitalis,” the woman continued. “You are weak.”

Sal let the words fall on her like raindrops on the back of a duck. They rolled right off.

Gripping the woman’s wrists, Sal pulled. The woman was weakened by the radiation and her grip slipped.

“Away,” Sal uttered the edict with as much conviction as she could. To Sal’s surprise, the woman flew through the air, hitting the metal so hard that she cracked it. Water rushed into the room as the woman was sucked into the ballast chamber.

Sal felt invigorated. Not that the woman was dead, but that she was alive. She turned on her heel and rushed out into the passage as the water rushed in. Tyr and the beast were long gone. Which way to the surface?

Well, that would probably be the opposite direction of the way the sub was pointing. The outer hatch was midway down the length of the sub. Sal ran, grabbing pipes and valves to help pull herself up.

But there was no way she was going to make it.

The metal around her groaned as the sub sank further and further, and now it was flooding on the inside. She realized what she had to do. Turning around, she went back to the room she’d just been in.

She sloshed through the water, stepping over the ripped ballast wall. There was only a thin layer of metal between her and the ocean. The outer wall. Metal was the hardest, of course, to bend to your will. Especially a wall of this age. Its purpose had been to keep the water out for centuries. Could she encourage it to open? Make her own hatch?

Sal laid her hands on the cool metal. She could see each rivet that held the metal in place. She put her palm on one of them. There was no way she could command them all at once. Tyr might have been able to, but he was DeadBlood.

Lovingly she stroked the metal rivet.

“Release,” Sal whispered only feeling slightly silly. The metal didn’t budge. As water rose to her hip, she pulled out a small vial of the imitation intent blood. She picked a stubborn blood.

She placed a drop on the rivet and repeated the edict. “Release.”

This time she was rewarded with a squeak and the rivet moved a quarter turn. Taking in a deep breath, Sal tried to release her fear and desperation as the water filled up to her chest.

Using more intent solution, Sal repeated the procedure. The rivet popped out, water squirting along with it. Quickly, Sal moved on to the rivets with equal success. It was taking up a lot of the solution though and she only had one of stubborn intent.

She had three rivets left on the wall when she ran out.

Sal looked to what she had left. Would reluctant blood work?

With a well of hope, she dribbled some on the rivet and whispered, “Release.”

This time the rivet barely budged. The water was up to her neck.

She poured a third of the vial onto the upper rivet. “Release,” she ordered this time with more conviction. Once that rivet let go, the metal plate it was holding groaned, bending under the pressure, creating an opening.

Sal took five short, fast breaths trying to blow all of her carbon dioxide out, then swam into the breach. The water was freezing, even more so than inside the sub, but she found it bracing as she struck upward.

She could see the light play on the surface. It wasn’t that far. She could make it.

Then a flash caught her attention to the left. Was that a fin? Sal couldn’t think about it. Then another flash. That definitely was a fin. And it was big. Like Great White big. The bay was filled with them. They were one of the major deterrents to escape from Alcatraz. Sure you could break out of the prison, but make it to shore through the gauntlet of sharks? Not very likely. The sharks were probably drawn to the sub by all the noise and cavitation it was making.

The shark swam past her, then whacked her with its huge tail, knocking Sal head over heel in the water. She lost sight of the surface as her lungs screamed for air. Worse, she’d watch Shark Week frequently enough to know that the bumping maneuver was just the shark’s way of making sure she was prey.

Sal knew that she had to stop struggling. With herculean effort, she stopped her thrashing and allowed her body to float. It might not get rid of the shark, but it would allow her to right herself. Air filled, her lungs would float higher than her feet. As the bubbles dissipated, Sal saw the surface again.

She struck for the top. The shark, however, was faster. He must have turned around, because all she could see was a mouth full of razor sharp teeth coming at her.

Not having time to calm herself, Sal did the only thing she knew how.

“Away!” Sal shouted, letting out most of the air in her lungs.

Bubbles obscured her vision, then she was knocked back as the shark turned on a dime and with its strong tail swam away as fast as it could. She wasn’t safe though. Her vision constricted and expanded as her brain started shutting down due to lack of oxygen. Very shortly Sal would not be able to control her breath and her medulla would override her cortex and force her to take in a breath, sucking in ocean water rather than air.

Sal thought hard on her muscles, sending them more blood to fuel their strength, kicking toward the surface.

Just as the world started to darken, Sal broke through, gasping, choking as she rocked on the waves.

“Over here!” she heard Alex call out.

Spinning in the water she spotted her party. Alex, Dyn and Tyr were already on the shore, encouraging her forward.

“Hurry!” Tyr shouted.

She wasn’t sure why. Was it the shark again?

Then she realized that the submarine’s butt was pointed straight up beside her and was sinking rapidly. If she didn’t get out of its way, she would be sucked under as well.

She didn’t need to encourage her muscles any more. Now that they had some oxygen, they were up for the job and she struck for shore. Thank god for summer swimming lessons.

Within moments she was to the dock and Tyr helped her up out of the water. What a sight she must be. She felt great though. Almost like the dunk in the bay had refreshed her. She felt alive and ready to take on anything.

“Salista…” Alex hissed, backing away.

Okay, she must look bad, but not that bad.

“Salista,” Tyr said also taking a step back.

What the heck was everyone so freaked out about? She wasn’t even wounded. Then she followed Dyn’s eyes to her hands. Her fingernails were now claws. Sal jumped back, but was unable to get away from herself.

What the hell?

“Your… your eyes…” Alex stuttered.

Sal’s hands flew to her face. She felt her skin. Her eyebrows were now knit together in a unibrow.

“Your pupils,” Alex said with a gulp. “They’re vertical.”

* * *

Once Tyr had nearly had his heart torn out by a beast. That had hurt far less than the sight before him. Salista must have used intent to escape the submarine and it had corrupted her.

“How?” Salista sputtered. “I barely... I was so careful.”

Tyr stepped forward and despite his revulsion, took her clawed hand. “I believe that all of those times you practiced in your time added up so it only took a momentary slip for the corruption to take hold.

Tears ran down Salista’s face as she asked, “What do we do?”

“We’ve got the solution,” Alex said. “Right? It pulled out that guy, Kurtis. It pulled out his corruption?”

Salista looked up into Tyr’s eyes. He tried to exude optimism, despite his reservations. He feared that Salista’s corruption was more deeply seeded than even Kurtis’. His had been a slow descent. Salista had long-term exposure to intent, and then a huge influx of corruption. Plus they did not have the current that the warlock thought to be so important.

“Then let us start,” Tyr said. “Lay down on the dock.”

She did as asked despite her whole body shivering. Tyr did not think that it was all from the cold ocean water.

Dyn knelt down next to her, smoothing back her hair. “No matter the solution, you must want to be rid of the corruption.”

Salista nodded, gulping, biting her lip.

Alex dug around in her pack and pulled out a container. “I think this is the stuff.”

Salista’s eyes slid over and she nodded. “I don’t know… I mean… Yes, that is it.”

“We shall see then, witch, shall we not.”

“If…if it doesn’t work, you’ll take care of it, right?” Salista asked, her eyes scanning his face.

“It will work,” Tyr stated. He could not think of the alternative.

Salista grabbed his hand. “Don’t let me become a beast. You’ve got to promise me.”

“You shall not become a beast,” Tyr promised her, hoping with all of his heart that promise would not be put to the test.

“How is this done?” Dyn asked.

“You put my hand in it,” Salista said. “We don’t have the current so I think a DeadBlood will need to put his hand in and draw the corruption to himself.

Dyn nodded and pushed up his sleeve, but Tyr shook his head. “Nay, let it be me. I started her along this path.”

* * *

Sal tried to smile, but the truth was she was terrified. Not of the procedure so much, but more so how much she didn’t want the procedure. She liked feeling like this. So powerful.

It was like she had a roar in her belly and the only thing that would satiate it was to use more intent. She’d heard addicts talking about chasing the high. Sal had never understood the statement until now.

Now, all she wanted to do was use blood magic. She wanted to taste it. She wanted to bathe in it. Intellectually she knew what would happen. She knew she would descend further. That didn’t seem to matter though? What could in the face of this hunger? She wanted to scratch and claw at Tyr. How dare he try to take this away from her?

Not even seeing her brother with tears rolling down his cheeks swayed her feelings. What was wrong with being a beast, really? Was it not a form of evolution?

Dyn pulled the top off the container. Tyr picked up her hand to put it inside, but Sal struggled.

“No,” she said, trying to get away. “I’m okay.”

“That is what my brother said,” Tyr grumbled, tightening his grip on her wrist. “You will not suffer the same fate.”

Sal thrashed, but Dyn and Alex grabbed her legs, pinning her to the dock.

“No!” she screamed trying to take a bite out of Tyr.

His grip never wavered, though, as he plunged her hand in the solution. He held it as he began to mutter what sounded like a prayer. Sal could now understand a little better how Vitalis felt. After all that he lost, why would he not want to feel this power? Who wouldn’t want to feel invincible? But Tyr wished to steal that from her.

The pain was searing. It felt like it originated in her bone marrow then spread from there. Each ounce of intent that was stripped from her felt like they were sucking marrow from her bones.

No, no, no, Sal sobbed to herself. She could feel the warm power pour from her fingers. The solution turned bright red. It was still around her hand though. She could feel it.

If she could just pull it back, all would be alright.

Sal concentrated on the red, calling it to her. The solution began to pale. It was working!

* * *

Tyr gripped the wrist of the woman he loved. She was not going to give up her corruption easily. And she was a pure LiveBlood. She had enough intent to go around.

But he would not let her fall. Not like his brother. Not like Lainli. He could save Salista and he would.

For a moment he released her wrist. Salista tried to pull her hand from the solution, but he caught it, interlacing his fingers with hers.

“Salista,” he whispered. Her eyes fluttered as she gnashed her teeth at him.

“Salista,” he said as his other hand pushed her wet hair from her face. “Remember.”

Her head shook from side to side as she tried to reject him and keep the corruption to herself. She had suffered so much already. Most of it at his hands. He had to find a way to save her from herself.

Tyr tightened his fingers around hers. “Salista. Listen to my voice. You need to let go.”

Her head banged on the dock as she struggled. The intent had a hold on her. It had sung to her power and peace. That the only way to find peace. To give herself over to the intent. To follow blindly where it lead.

Well, Tyr knew where it led. It led you to try and steal the spark of the atom even though it killed off your followers. It led to madness and raw aggression. It led to death. Could she not see that? Remember that? Couldn’t she remember how afraid of the beasts she was? How could she become one?

“Salista, please, you must let go.”

Salista’s jaw clenched, “Never,” she hissed.

He cupped her face in his hand. “You must.”

Tyr leaned over her, bringing his lips over hers. “Let go, my love.”

Her eyelids fluttered as their lips met.

* * *

No! Her mind screamed as Tyr kissed her. It felt so familiar yet so foreign. She’d never thought to feel his lips again. They were rough and kind at the same time. The last time she’d felt them her world had been unhinged.

Yet she did not want the kiss to end. Ever.

But it did. Tyr pulled away, a smile on his lips. “Yes, let go, Salista, let go.”

She glanced down to the solution, which was a bright, bright red. It even glowed a bit. How much of a monster had she become?

Her hand reached out, stroking Tyr’s cheek. Her fingers slid over his stubble. She pulled him back in for another kiss. It was the only way to block the siren call of the intent blood. She needed another siren call to interfere.

Tyr seemed more than happy to oblige. Their lips pressed together as her tongue pressed forward, wanting more. However Tyr would not go that far. He pulled away again.

Sal looked to the solution, it was fading, but this time the intent was not coming back to her, but Tyr was soaking it in. She watched his face. His expression changed from concerned to ecstasy to terror.

Tyr gasped, going rigid. Even a DeadBlood could be affected by that much corrupted intent.

His fingers never untwined from hers though. It was her turn to squeeze their palms together.

“Let it go,” Sal said, echoing Tyr’s plea.

His eyes flew open as he gasped, the last of the red gone from the solution. Then he smiled. “Find me a beast to fight.”

Oh, she knew how high Tyr was right now. However, he was DeadBlood, and the intent would find no purchase with him. Very soon it would simply dissipate.

“Salista!” Alex cried, throwing his arms around her. “You’re back!”

* * *

Okay, after everything that had happened, that was by far the scariest. To see your sister turning the corner into a beast was some freaky stuff.

He hugged her so tight until finally she hugged him back. With her hands, not paws. That was a step in the right direction.

“Alex, I’m fine,” Salista said. “I’m good,” his sister said, trying to pry loose from his grip. Probably the first time that had ever happened.

He wasn’t about to let go. Not after losing a father and now a mother, plus all of his friends and even his era. He couldn’t lose Salista. He just couldn’t.

Something else chilled him as well. If Salista could fall under the spell of the corruption, what chance did anyone else have? Salista might be the most uptight person he knew, but she was also the most stand up person. The most moral person that he knew. And if she fell?

Well, no wonder there was a Harrowing.

“Alex, come on I’ve got to breathe,” his sister insisted.

So he let up. A little.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he whispered in her ear.

“Trust me, I won’t,” she answered. Salista used the back of her to brush back her soaking wet hair. She looked up to Tyr and Dyn. “Thanks.” She rotated her neck and shoulder. “I think.”

“What do we do now?” Alex asked. The sub was sunk. And the shacks at the end of the dock were empty.

Tyr looked to the north. “The beast escaped as the submarine sank.”

“Maybe the shark got him?” Salista suggested.

“If you could escape a shark, so could he,” Tyr explained. “We must assume that he swam to a shore up the coastline.”

“The question is did he get any of the spark?” Dyn proposed.

Tyr shook his head. “He was empty handed the last I saw. The only way he might have some is if one of his accomplices took some off the sub before we arrived.”

“Which doesn’t seem likely, otherwise why were they still working on the sub?” Salista stated.

“Even if they did not get the spark,” Dyn said. “We still do not know where all the of the beasts are. Where they are gathering.”

Alex swallowed hard. He’d forgotten about that. A bunch more beasts.

Yeah.

“I believe that Vitalis must be becoming desperate. His attempt to created artificial intent failed. And now he lost his spark of the atom.”

Salista’s face clouded over. “This sub isn’t the only source of the spark.”

Alex frowned. What was she talking about?

“Bodega Bay,” Salista said. “Does that sound familiar?”

Tyr nodded. “It is a small fishing community up north.”

“And there was once a nuclear reactor proposed there. It was defeated in my time, but later? I don’t know, maybe they built it. It would have been a large, tall concrete structure.”

“That is within my father’s realm,” Tyr said. “Nothing that large survived the Harrowing.”

“I know,” Salista answered. “But the nuclear rods were kept far underground. The top is really just the cooling system. The pillars might have been knocked down, but the spark might still be deep underground.

Tyr’s face clouded. “Did your time just leave the spark lying around?”

Salista shrugged. “In my time they were fairly well guarded, but after the Harrowing? It must have become a free for all.”

“We need to head north any way,” Dyn said. “Vitalis’ ire against your father is what is fueling all of this destruction.”

Tyr nodded. So north it was.

CHAPTER 16

Tyr offered Sal a hand. “Can you stand?”

“I think so,” Sal said, her head still swimming.

She wasn’t sure if it was the physical effects that were lingering or the emotional ones. Shame, embarrassment and horror swirling in her mind. How could she have thought those things?

How could she have wanted to stay corrupted? To actually think that it didn’t matter? To be so power hungry that it became your entire world? The thought had been so seductive she hadn’t even questioned it.

Salista looked down to the container of solution. It was now perfectly clear. Tyr had sucked all that corruption into himself. About a third of the solution had been consumed by the process of clearing her. She was pretty sure that the amount of solution used was proportionate to how corrupted the subject was. And she hadn’t been that far gone. What would it take to revert Vitalis?

If anything, her experience had convinced her that reversion rather than death was the answer to the beast problem.

Trust her, the procedure itself was punishment enough.

Tyr helped her to her feet. While in his arms, Salista looked up into his stark blue eyes. “Thanks for not killing me.”

“You are welcome,” Tyr replied flatly.

He really should have killed her. That was the DeadBlood code after all.

She could remember his lips on hers. The feeling of connection that she had thought lost. That she thought would never return. But looked at his stoic face, she saw no affection. No love.

The kiss had simply been a means to an end for him. Again. When would she learn?

Feeling a little steadier, Sal pulled away from his support. “I’ve got it.”

“I am sure you do,” Tyr said then walked away.

What was that supposed to mean? A dig? A compliment?

Sal would probably never know.

* * *

Tyr moved with Hunter as they galloped along the road. With the bridge gone, they had to head east to go around the bay before they could strike north.

Salista sat behind him, her arms around his midriff. He wished it were under other circumstances, but they both had their duty.

They would not make Bodega Bay by nightfall. More than likely, they would strike camp once around the bay then head out early in the morning. Would the beast be heading to Bodega Bay? Or would he decide to abandon his plans and aim straight for the source of his ire?

Other DeadBloods were headed to his father’s court. If Vitalis did strike there he would not find it an easy target any longer.

“Look!” Alex cried out, pointing ahead. Tyr had to squint to see what Salista’s brother was talking about. The DeadBlood had young eyes, apparently far better than his.

There was smoke billowing up ahead with a ruddy fire at its base. As they neared, Tyr realized it was a village, ablaze.

“Hurry!” Tyr shouted as Salista stepped on the gas, urging the Jeep forward. They surged ahead toward the fallen town. Now he could hear the people’s screams on the wind and villagers running around the chaos. Some were clearly trying to put out the fire, but equally clearly failing.

They only had a spring well to draw from and that was coming at a bucket at a time. If something more wasn’t done, the entire village would be consumed by fire.

He didn’t even ask Salista to stop, he just jumped from the Jeep, landing hard, rolling. Gaining his feet, he rushed to the village.

He began murmuring to the fire. Asking it to extinguish itself. Unfortunately fire was fickle. It liked to burn. It was meant to burn. Trying to talk it into suicide was always difficult.

Sometimes you had to get around the fire.

Instead he began talking to the air. It was not quite so dedicated to being consumed by the fire. He asked the oxygen to leave. To choke the fire out.

More than willing to save itself, a rattle of a breeze began as the oxygen moved away and nitrogen rushed into the vacuum, essentially starving the fire. It sputtered and flared, defiant.

Except it couldn’t burn without fuel. Without oxygen. In the end the flames collapsed on themselves. The building only scorched, not destroyed. He moved on to the next hut. Performing the same feat. Then the next, until the village fire was put out completely.

“Thank you, sire, thank you,” A rattily dressed villager prattled on as he hugged Tyr, patting him on the back.

“I am no sire,” Tyr said, extracting himself from the rather smelly embrace.

“No, you are better,” the villager said with a broken toothed smile. “You are DeadBlood are you not?”

“Yes,” Tyr answered cautiously. Usually that admission wasn’t followed by a kiss on the cheek.

“You saved us all,” the villager said. “That was a mighty pride that came through.”

“How many?” Tyr asked.

“At least a dozen,” the man replied, shuddering as he said it. “Big one too. Not those scrawny ones we usually get.”

“Was there a full maned lion with a human ear exposed?”

“Nay,” the man answered. “A tiger and leopard, but no lion.”

Tyr hissed out a breath. How could his brother not been with this pride? Where was he? And why would a pride attack so viciously after not raising their heads for weeks?

“They took him!” a woman screamed. “They took him!”

“Who?” Tyr asked.

The woman kept running though, shouting the same thing over and over again. It was the old man who answered. “Her baby son, Hermaculin.”

By now the others had gathered around him.

“This cannot end well for the child,” Dyn stated.

Tyr got back into the Jeep as Salista hurried back into the driver’s seat. He grabbed the roll bar. “Catch them.”

* * *

Sal stomped on the gas pedal. They couldn’t want that poor baby for anything good.

“I thought they already had the HeartsBlood of a baby,” Alex said from the back seat. His voice rattled as the Jeep shimmied at the high speeds over rough terrain.

“They do,” Dyn said.

“So what do they need with more?”

The car remained silent except for the groan of metal.

“He is meant as a sacrifice,” Tyr finally answered.

“To what?”

“To Vitalis,” Tyr said flatly. “To pledge their fidelity.”

“We have not seen that since the Harrowing,” Dyn argued.

“Are we not entering another era of Harrowing?” Tyr asked.

Dyn did not answer. Sal pushed the gas pedal down to the metal imagining how terrified the baby must be. The Jeep groaned as it got over a huge mound of dirt and grass.

“How far ahead are they?” Sal asked.

“Not more than a half an hour,” Tyr answered.

And the beasts were on foot. They were fast, but they had human accomplices with them so they couldn’t travel that quickly.

As they jangled down the road, Sal started calculating the odds. A dozen beasts against two DeadBlood and a wannabe DeadBlood. Not great. But a baby’s life was on the line. They had to try.

By now they had reached the end of the Bay and turned north. The beasts were heading north, weren’t they?

“This is the right direction?”

Tyr turned to Alex. “Well?”

Alex put his nose to the air and sniffed. “They are a rank lot, I’ll tell you that.”

Tyr smiled. “Yes, this is the correct course.”

Sal stared ahead, looking for a cloud of dust or any evidence that they were closing in on the beast.

“Stop!” Tyr shouted.

Sal stepped on the brake, skidding the Jeep to a halt. Tyr grabbed the windshield and stood up, turning his head, taking in deep breaths. Then his sword was out of his sheath. Dyn followed suit. Sal looked in the rearview mirror to watch Alex awkwardly pull his short sword as well.

“We are surrounded,” Tyr whispered. “When the time comes, use the Jeep as a weapon.”

Sal revved the engine, gripping the steering wheel like her life depended on it, which it probably did. The waiting was the worst. It was always the worst. Sal tried to breathe through her nose and out her mouth. Now was not the time to hyperventilate. She needed to keep her wits about her.

Tyr stepped from the car. “Why wait?” he shouted to the brush.

She hated it when he antagonized the beasts. They were beasts, they really shouldn’t need to be riled up.

Everyone turned as a female accomplice walked from the brush, carrying the baby, apparently unharmed.

“If I give the child back to you, will you let us pass unharmed?”

Sal looked closely at the woman. She had a bit of fur down her nose and her eyes were slanted more than they should be, but other than that, she looked human. Sal herself had descended further than this woman.

“You slaughtered a village and set it alight.”

“The child for our safe passage,” the woman said, barely lisping.

Tyr straightened to his full height. The tension in his shoulders only increasing. Sal could tell that Tyr did not like the proposal at all of letting the beasts run free, but he could not risk the child either.

“You are surrounded,” the woman said. “If we attack, I’m not sure if you have enough HeartsBlood on you to heal the wounds we shall inflict.”

Little did the woman know that they now had artificial HearstBlood, and quite a bit of it.

Tyr glanced over his shoulder at Dyn who nodded.

“Bring the babe to me, I must be sure that he is unharmed.”

The woman snorted. “I shall leave the babe here. You must not follow us with your loud contraption.”

“We shall head north, but not on your trail.”

Sal sat there in amazement of how much the beasts feared DeadBloods. They were grossly outnumbered. She imagined that the beasts could fairly easily overwhelm them. It was only their fear of Tyr and Dyn that held their hand and made them willing to negotiate. Or was that the only reason?

She twisted in her seat to turn to Dyn, “Are there any healing properties about a baby?”

Dyn frowned. “No, usually a babe’s blood is needed to potentiate any spell you might have, especially if it causes death.”

That’s right. The opposite effect. Still something was bothering Sal. Beasts were not exactly risk assessment managers. They were nearly feral. Yes, they still held some of their human cunning, but for the most part, they attacked first and thought later.

“Don’t agree,” Sal hissed at Tyr. He looked down at her a questioning frown on his face. “Offer her the babe in exchange for an hour head start.”

She had to give Tyr credit. He didn’t flinch or ask any more questions. “Give us the babe and we will not track you for an hour.”

The woman shook her head. “You must leave us unscathed.”

Tyr gripped his sword all the tighter. “Then I guess we will take our chances in battle.”

Sal swallowed hard. What had she started? What if her gut was wrong? What if the beasts were full strength and overwhelmed them?

The woman took out a knife and held it to the babe’s throat. “Agree or watch him die.”

Tyr glanced down at Sal. “Agree then,” she stated.

“We shall let you pass,” Tyr agreed.

The woman put her knife back into belt. Then set the child down on the grass.

Sal stood up as well. “We can help you. We can reverse your descent.”

The woman straightened. “And why would I want that?”

“To save yourself.”

Snorting the woman shook her head. “My soul is fine.”

“It isn’t your soul I was talking about,” Sal stated. “The beasts are sick, aren’t they?”

By the way the woman’s still round pupils dilated, Sal knew that her hunch was true.

“And once you descend enough, you too will become ill.”

The woman’s eyes darted back and forth.

“I may not be able to help them, but I can save you,” Sal said getting out of the car and walking toward the woman. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

The woman’s grip on the baby loosened as Sal approached. “Give me the baby and come with us.”

She could feel Tyr’s concern beating against her back, but she had to at the least try. All too well, Sal knew what descent felt like. She knew what this woman was going through. Could she break through the corruption’s siren spell?

Nearly nose-to-nose with the woman, Sal held out her hands. The woman turned over the baby without complaint, but then turned and ran before Sal could convince her.

“Here,” Tyr said, holding out one of his blankets. Sal set the baby on the blanket on the hood of the car. She did a quick physical. The baby was maybe a little dehydrated, but other than that seemed fine.

“He’s okay, he’s okay.”

Tyr smiled, as did Dyn. Alex put his hand up. “High five, sis, high five!”

Sal couldn’t resist her brother’s infectious happiness and raised her hand for Alex to slap it.

“How did you know the beasts were ill?” Tyr asked.

“I didn’t,” Sal responded. “I just couldn’t understand why they didn’t ambush us? And to offer us the baby back seemed really out of character.”

“But why illness?” Dyn asked.

Sal shrugged. “You said baby’s blood was used for spells that involved death. I think… well I think they were trying to kill the virus that is spreading amongst them.”

“What disease?” Tyr asked.

“Can we catch it?” Alex asked, always a bit of hypochondriac.

Sal shook her head. “No. I just noticed on the submarine that most of the accomplices had runny noses. I’m not a veterinarian but I do know that distemper can infect nearly every feline species along with raccoon and seals. So once the beasts offered up peace, I made the leap of logic that they too were infected and weakened which is why they didn’t ambush us.”

“Like I said, a most annoying witch,” Tyr said, but with a smile.

“What now?” Alex said.

“We hunt them down,” Tyr replied.

“Wait,” Sal insisted. She was feeling more than a little mercenary. “If they are ill and contagious, wouldn’t it be better to let them go? First off we could follow them to their gathering and then once there they could…”

“Infect the rest?” Alex finished her sentence. “Why Salista that is almost committing biological warfare.”

That is what made Sal feel so bad, but if it helped keep them safe and involved less bloodshed, what else could she advise.

“And if they aren’t ill?” Tyr stated.

“Then at the least we can find their hide out.”

* * *

Tyr studied her features for a moment. “I don’t like it. To know where a pride is and not attack feels wrong.”

Dyn nodded. “I understand, however Salista’s plan is solid.”

“What if they decide to attack another village for another baby and we are not there?”

“That is the risk we must take Tyr,” Dyn replied. “And we will stay far downwind and track them far enough so they can’t hear our vehicle.”

Tyr was still not happy. “No good will come of this.”

“What would you do?” Salista asked, as if she didn’t already know the answer.

“Track them while they are weak. Kill all but one and question that one to their destination.”

Salista thought upon his words. “And if the one you spare doesn’t know the rendezvous spot?”

“Then we shall find it.”

“Or let them lead us to it,” Dyn stated.

Dyn was the statistician of the two. Tyr did not like to think too hard on a subject. It all became mush in his mind. But much was at stake and perhaps rushing into an attack was not the best answer.

It was the answer he liked the most, but perhaps not the right one.

“I am out voted then,” Tyr conceded. “If they are as ill as Salista believes, they will not travel far tonight. I propose that we set up camp here for the night.”

There was a murmuring of agreement from the group. Besides, Tyr’s joints ached from the jostling of the Jeep. The days on end of travel and fighting were beginning to take their toll.

As they had on everyone. Salista looked like the ocean had taken her, beaten her to pulp then spat her back out. Dyn, normally a pillar of stoicism, had dark circles under his eyes and a haunted expression. Alex looked whipped. Literally as if he had been whipped.

And Tyr would never admit it, but he missed Hunter. He felt as if he were missing a limb. Perhaps he would feel more grounded once he and his steed were reunited.

He did not mention any of this though. Instead he barked orders.

“Salista and I will go gather firewood and water. Dyn will cook dinner and Alex prepare the camp.”

“What? You don’t want me cooking anymore?” Salista challenged.

After that tough stew from the night before? “No,” he said. No one argued.

“Fine,” Salista said, and walked off in the direction of the brush.

Tyr sheathed his sword and followed.

They had avoided a battle this day. Who knew how many other days they would be so lucky.

CHAPTER 17

Sal awoke with a start. The fire had died down to just a few cracks and pops. Was that what woke her up? She turned her head, searching their camp in the dim light. The baby, swaddled and full slept in the crook of her arm. He seemed quite content. Alex snored next to her. Tyr lay on her other side, slumbering away. Dyn too was asleep.

There weren’t any horses, so it wasn’t them that woke her up.

Perhaps it was just her bladder. The one thing she really, really, really missed about her time was the abundance of indoor plumbing. They never talked about the lack of privacy while going to the bathroom in historical romances.

She was about to rise when she realized someone else was in the camp with them. Sal thought that Tyr had put a warding spell before they lay down. Could the beasts have betrayed them and doubled back to kill them?

As her eyes adjusted she realized the figure was just outside the line of protection, her eyes glowing in the dying firelight. It was the woman from before.

“I am Finnia. You said you could help me,” the woman whispered.

Sal moved the baby and sat up. “I can, but it won’t be easy.”

“My life has not been easy since I joined the pride.”

Even though the woman seemed sincere, Sal was still suspicious. She knew all too well the siren sound of the corruption. If Tyr and Alex hadn’t have been there, she would not have elected to rid herself of the corruption.

“Why do you want to rid yourself of intent?” Sal asked.

“Yes, why?” Tyr queried. He was so damned quiet. He had risen and pulled a knife without Sal even noticing.

Finnia crept back a little deeper in the brush. “I am… I am with child. Vitalis’s.”

Sal looked to Tyr whose face drained of color. “Vitalis?”

“Yes,” the woman said, her cheeks blushing redder than the dying fire. “I am corrupted. Is my baby?”

“I don’t know,” Sal admitted turning to Tyr.

He still looked stunned. “I have never heard of a beast breeding…”

“Maybe because she is still so human?” Sal suggested, although trying to picture how Finnia became impregnated by the beast Vitalis made her stomach turn a little.

“The shaman said that as I descend, I will lose the baby.” She cradled her belly. “I do not want to lose my baby.”

“You could stop using intent until the delivery,” Sal offered.

The woman’s smile was not a happy smile. “Six months denying the song in my ear? That is not going to happen.”

Sal could understand. She was shocked Finnia had enough sense to try and revert now before she fell too far.

“I can’t guarantee that the baby will survive.”

The woman nodded. “I understand.”

Sal looked to Tyr. “Let her in.”

Tyr frowned but Dyn indicated that he should follow her request. Tyr lifted up his arm, sweeping it across the camp. “Free.”

Like a wall came down, Finnia stumbled forward into their camp. Tyr backed away as if she were a cobra sidewinding her way into their presence.

“For my baby,” the woman sobbed, falling to her knees. Sal rushed over and put her arm around her. Couldn’t Tyr she how brave she was being?

“Vitalis said I could be as great as he,” she murmured, “But at what cost? At what cost?”

“This could still be a ruse,” Tyr grumbled.

“If it is, to what end?” Sal asked.

Tyr did not answer.

Sal helped Finnia to her feet and guided her to her blanket. Dyn picked up the babe and carefully laid him back down on his blanket without the baby stirring a bit. It looked like Dyn had some experience with babies.

Fishing around in her pack, Sal retrieved the container of the solution that had saved her. How much would be used up helping this woman? Would there be any left if the worst happened and Sal fell again?

Did it matter? Finnia and her unborn child needed it.

Sal urged the container to Tyr but he wouldn’t accept it. “Alex should be the one.”

“Me?” Alex squeaked backpedaling nearly into the forest.

* * *

What the heck? That was the stupidest idea that Alex had ever heard. Stupid with a capital “S.”

“No, no, no, no,” Alex insisted, as he tried to get as far away from Finnia as possible. And if that meant going into the forest alone, so be it.

Unfortunately Dyn had been beside him and grabbed him by the jacket. “Tyr is right. This might be a delicate extraction, so one of the purest DeadBloods should attempt it.”

“But, but, but… I don’t have any experience,” Alex whined. Couldn’t they understand?

“I had none until earlier today,” Tyr stated in that alpha male way of his.

Alex looked to Dyn, “But you’re the thane. Shouldn’t you do it?”

Dyn shook his head. “The babe is more than likely completely corrupted. That is why they do not survive in the womb. I’m not sure if even Tyr or I could draw that much corruption out without ourselves being affected.”

Alex’s heart sank. Once Dyn made a decision, it didn’t feel like he changed it easily or ever. Alex only had one hope left, so he turned to Salista. “Come on, sis, you’ve got to have my back on this one.”

Salista shook her head though. “I think they are right, Alex. It’s got to be you.”

Um, did no one else see the spectacle this morning? Tyr had to kiss Salista to make her let go. And there was no way, no how, Alex was kissing fuzzy face over there.

Dyn urged Alex toward the woman and then pushed down, rather hard, on Alex’s shoulders to get him to sit down next to her.

Salista put the woman’s hand in the solution. It seemed all so innocent and easy, but Alex knew better. Tyr must have too because he came to stand behind the woman, ready to restrain her if necessary.

Crap, this was really happening.

Dyn shoved Alex’s sleeve back and forced his hand into the solution.

Dang, it was like a lightning bolt went into his finger, up arm to his neck and then directly into the base of his brain. His mind was on fire. It was like someone turned on a spot light and wouldn’t turn it off.

Jeez, is this what corruption felt like? You might as well mix meth, crack and speed together and just mainline it. He looked to his sister. Was this what she felt?

Thank goodness he was DeadBlood. All of this energy washed over him, but he could feel that it wasn’t taking hold in him. He was shocked a bright red beacon wasn’t bursting out of the top of his head.

Alex looked down to find the solution a bright red. He knew better, however it looked like Finnia was bleeding out, right in front of him.

At first she seemed calm, then she started shaking. Really more like rattling. Her whole body was in constant motion. She tried to pull her arm out of the solution, but Salista held it in.

“Hold her hand,” his sister ordered.

Really? He hadn’t held anyone else’s hand beside his mom and sister’s and this was going to be his first time. With a strung-out, corrupted, beast accomplice? Uck.

But Finnia was really, really getting agitated, so Alex did as he was told. Her palm was hot in his. Another bolt of electricity shot up his arm, arching his back. It took everything he had to keep his own hand in the solution. Thank goodness Dyn was there. He had a clamp on his arm and wouldn’t let him move.

“Open yourself up,” Dyn urged.

What was the thane smoking? This was bad enough with all of his barriers up. He was really hoping that he gut it out then pretend that it never happened again. The woman’s nails were cutting into his flesh though and she began howling. Not pretend howling, but actual, full-on howling.

And Dyn wanted him to open himself up to that? Right.

“You must drain the child as well,” Dyn announced.

Yah, easy for you to say.

Alex took in a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for what was to come. Finnia’s face was already reverting back to human, which was actually kind of pretty. The furry patches dissolving in front of his eyes.

The solution was a deep burgundy, glowing and pulsing. And he was supposed to suck all of that into himself? He flexed his fingers within the woman’s grip and “invited” the red, scary stuff into himself.

He watched with horror and amazement as the red coursed up his fingers, creating lines on his skin. It was like the corruption was forming its own set of veins.

Alex could feel when the corruption hit his heart. It seized up just a bit, skipping a beat before starting again. It would course through his lungs, making it hard to breath. Then it would hit his brain. Making it spin all over again.

And there was more? This corruption apparently was just from Finnia. Now they had to tackle the fetus inside of her?

Alex gritted his teeth, preparing for the challenge.

The woman threw herself back, raising her shirt. Her belly undulated under her skin. The baby seemed even less thrilled with letting go of its corruption.

This time, Alex called for the corruption. He begged for it to leave the woman’s body and come to his. A baby’s piercing cry nearly split his ears. He swiveled his head to see why the rescued baby was so upset, but the little guy was fast asleep.

Dear Lord, the cries were coming from the tiny, tiny fetus. It howled its frustration, just as its mother had done. It was creepy, but Alex could swear he could see the little guy. All smooth and floating in his mother’s belly. Only it wasn’t a human child. It had a long tail and upright ears.

This was so not cool.

If anything, the baby was ten times more determined to keep his corruption. After all it was the only thing it had known.

Finnia began clawing at Alex until Tyr grabbed her wrist. Alex kept her other hand firmly in the solution. Now the fluid was turning black. The solution was also being consumed. It now barely covered their skin. What happened if they ran out of it before he was done?

Guess they would find out.

Alex turned his attention to the fetus. He tried to radiate calm. That this was a good thing. That the child did not need to be afraid.

Yah, that didn’t go over so well. The fetus wailed and wailed some more, but Alex didn’t stop. The corruption answered his call, flowing from the fetus, into the mother, into the solution and then into Alex’s veins.

He felt every agonizing moment as the fetus gave up its corruption. Alex could sense that the fetus was failing. Like if it didn’t have corruption, there was nothing to live for. Its heartbeat slowed. It stopped wailing. It stopped moving altogether.

Alex felt a panic welling. He couldn’t go through all of this and have the baby die. What could he give the baby to replace the corruption?

“Grab Tyr’s hand,” He told Salista. She went to argue, but Tyr took her hand. Alex then moved his arm, releasing his sister’s grip on his arm and pushing their palms together.

“Think about love,” Alex said on instinct. What else was there? The kid really couldn’t care less about any worldly thing. He needed to know there was something else in the world besides corruption.

Alex remembered the first time Salista tried to teach him how to ride a bike. He was such a scaredy cat, she had to run alongside of him the entire block, holding him up. He remembered when he’d gotten meningitis and how she’d stayed in the hospital room with him all night, holding his hand, just as she was doing now. He remembered his own glow of pride when Salista graduated medical school.

Love was also coming down his arm from Salista. He couldn’t tell what she and Tyr thought of, but their love was amplifying his love. Alex really concentrated on pushing all that love to the baby.

He looked down to find the solution no longer black or even red. It was a sparkling, glowing white. The corruption was no longer leaving the baby and coming to him. Alex was sending love to the baby. He could feel it grow stronger. Its heart beating faster. Its tiny legs kicking again. Its miniscule fingers curling up into a fist, then unfurrowing again.

Finnia was now quiet. As a matter of fact it looked like Tyr was holding her up, otherwise she would fall to the blanket.

Tenderly, Alex separated his hand from the woman’s and nodded for Tyr to help her lay down.

Her hand went to her belly and a smile spread on her lips.

Alex tilted back, falling to the ground.

That had been intense.

* * *

Tyr watched as Salista checked Finnia. She had her ear to the woman’s belly. Doing her witch thing.

“It think they are going to be okay,” Salista announced with a smile. She then looked to the container of solution, which was nearly empty. The smile fell into a frown.

“I can make more, but it takes time and I need some very specific items.”

“We don’t have time to divert. You will have to wait until we get to the castle.”

To his surprise she didn’t argue. Instead she went back to stroking Finnia’s hair and telling her everything was going to be alright, which Tyr wasn’t quite so sure of. Yes, they had saved Salista from corruption, but hers had been accidental. She truly had only used intent to protect herself.

This woman, who had laid with a beast, clearly had not used intent blood for altruistic purposes. Tyr still seriously doubted if Finnia had truly been saved or just cleared of corruption until the next time she used intent blood. Would her love of the child be enough? Could she stop herself?

Dyn patted Tyr’s back. “We truly live in miraculous times, do we not?”

The old man was prone to too much optimism for Tyr’s taste. Dyn patted his back again. “Savor the victory in the moment. Even if she falls again tomorrow, we cleared her and her child tonight.”

Again, Tyr did not respond. If Finnia did fall again, they had wasted all of the solution and put Alex through all of that for nothing. There never was “no harm done” in Tyr’s book.

Dyn sat down next to Tyr. “Tomorrow we must return the baby to his mother.”

Tyr shook his head. “The only reason I allowed the beasts to pass was that we would not lose sight of them.”

“I understand, but we cannot allow that mother to imagine the worst. So I propose that we split up.”

Tyr did not like the sound of that. They were tracking a pride of at least a dozen beasts. If they ever turned to fight, he would not be enough to hold them at bay.

“We must stick together,” Tyr insisted.

Dyn shook his head. “I will head back with Alex, Finnia and the babe. You and Salista will stay far back, tracking the pride.”

“And if they attack?’

Dyn’s lips spread into a smile. “Then your wish will come true.”

Tyr kicked a stick into the dying fire. It popped and crackled, catching fire immediately.

Dyn patted Tyr on the shoulder. “What are your concerns? We will reunite within the day.”

Why did Dyn always make things seem so easy? It was his gift.

CHAPTER 18

Sal resisted waking up. She could tell that Tyr was nudging her, but she tried to slip back into slumber. That had been a long ass, stressful night. She needed more sleep.

Unfortunately Tyr was the most persistent human alarm clock ever invented. He wouldn’t give up.

“All right, all right,” Sal said, rolling over. She found everyone else awake and ready to travel. Even the pregnant Finnia. Dyn and Alex were helping her into the Jeep.

Shaking off the last webs of her nice, warm cocoon of sleep, Sal stood up. “I’m ready to drive.”

Really she wasn’t. She needed about two cups of that sludge that Tyr called coffee. It was more like battery acid flavored with hickory.

“We aren’t going in the Jeep,” Tyr explained. “Only Dyn, Alex and… her.”

“What?” Sal blurted. She was still getting used to this whole awake thing, let alone the new reality where they were splitting up.

Tyr rolled his eyes in a very uncharacteristic manner. “Speak to Dyn. He is the architect of this plan.”

The thane though only smiled. “We will run the child back to his mother and return post-haste.”

“But, but… the beasts. How are we going to keep up with them?”

“They are moving at barely above a crawl,” Dyn explained. “And as I said, we will go back to the village, reunite mother and child, pick up some supplies, then return by the zenith of the sun.”

“Who is going to drive?” Sal asked.

Alex raised his hand.

“You?” Sal sneered.

“Hey, I took driver’s training.”

“Which you failed,” Sal reminded him.

“Um, I really don’t think here that I need to know how many feet before a turn I need to turn on my turn signal.”

“It is a stick shift,” Sal explained, trying to make everyone see what a bad idea this was.

Alex shrugged. “My homies took me out with some low riders which were all stick.”

Great. Her little brother was taught to drive by gangbangers. Then guilt washed over her. He’d turned to them because she was too busy with her life, trying to put her painful past behind her. Unfortunately she had abandoned her brother at the same time.

“Are you sure?” Sal asked.

“I got this,” Alex said, hopping behind the driver’s seat. He turned on the engine, then apparently went to pull forward, but backed instead. “It’s cool. It’s cool,” Alex insisted, changing gears that ground since he didn’t have the clutch in far enough.

Sal just sighed. What else could she do? They had to split up and there was no way she was going back to the village.

“But what about breakfast?” Sal asked, knowing that she sounded pathetic, but not really caring as her stomach rumbled.

Dyn smiled back at her. “We have already eaten. Tyr thought you would like the sleep. I left some porridge and bread for you.”

Well, there was that at the least. Tyr handed her a small metal cup filled with the oatmeal and a spoon.

“Eat quickly. We must break camp soon. It smells like the pride is already on the move.”

Of course it was.

She looked back to watch the Jeep bounce and rumble back down the path. The engine screamed as Alex didn’t shift up in time. She sighed. He was just going to have to figure it out on his own. She just wasn’t in the mood to worry about Alex’s driving skills at the moment.

Sal was not a morning person. There was a reason she liked being an ER doctor. The late hours suited her. But that had been in her world. She needed to adjust to this new one.

So she sat down and dug into her porridge.

* * *

Alex was having the time of his life. He was driving. All by himself. Well, Dyn and Finnia were here, but that didn’t count. They didn’t know what in the heck was going on.

He was driving.

Granted there was no traffic, lanes, or signals, but still he was driving. And off road at that. Although the game trail was pretty wide and easy to follow, but Alex was still going to take that as a win.

Dyn held on a little bit tighter than he had with Salista and the woman in the back seat looked like she was going to hurl at any minute, but they were making great time.

The village was on the horizon and the sun was barely overhead.

Some of the buildings were still smoldering, but most were intact, just a little scorched. Finnia held the baby in the back seat. She insisted the child was safe with her and so far she had lived up to her promise.

Even green with nausea, she had rocked the baby, murmuring to it, kissing it on its little bald head.

Within moments, they were at the edge of the village. Children ran out to greet them, followed more slowly by the villagers.

One of them pointed to Finnia, “It is one of the beasts!”

That’s about when the pitchforks started coming out.

Alex slowed to a stop as Dyn jumped out of the Jeep, holding his hands high. “Listen to me!”

The crowd stopped its shouting and settled unto an unhappy grumbling.

“The woman was been cleared of corruption and was integral in the return of the baby!”

Dyn waved to Finnia who exited the Jeep, carrying the baby close to her chest.

“My son!” a mother in the crowd exclaimed, rushing up. She stopped short of the woman who last night had tried to kill them. Dyn urged her forward. “It is alright. Your babe is unharmed.”

Encouraged by those words, the mother reached forward. A little reluctantly, the woman released the baby into his mother’s arms. Despite Dyn’s words, the mother jerked off the baby’s swaddling, checking his whole body to make sure that Dyn did not lie.

The baby cried, fussing at the attention. The mother hugged the babe to her chest. “He is fine,” she announced to the crowd.

“We will leave promptly,” Dyn explained, “as soon as we buy some supplies, we will leave and you will most likely never see us again.”

“Nay,” a large burly man said.

Alex put the Jeep in reverse. Really, intentionally reverse this time, getting ready to make a speedy exit if need be.

“You may have anything you like,” the man finished. “It is yours for the asking.”

Alex sighed in relief. Even Dyn gave out a satisfied breath.

“I shall give you my list then,” Dyn stated indicating that Alex could turn off the Jeep.

He looked down at the gas gauge. They were getting low.

“We might need to find more gas,” Alex said. “Ask them if they know where any is.”

Dyn nodded but didn’t ask immediately. Instead he waded into the villagers who all reached out to touch his cloak as if he were the Pope of something. But Alex guessed that Dyn was the rock star of this era. He’d not only saved the village, but pried a babe from the beast’s clutches.

If anyone deserved to be worshipped, it was Dyn.

A girl off to the side of the crowd gave Alex a little wave. He got out of the Jeep to go explore the possibilities but Dyn turned back, shaking his head.

“You stay in the Jeep.”

So much for Dyn being a rock star.

* * *

Sal trudged along behind Tyr. This whole hiking through the woods thing was getting old. She liked her motorized transportation, or at least a horse. Something other than climbing over broken branches and trails with more mole holes than a golf course in Caddy Shack. She’d nearly broken her ankle a dozen times over.

Of course, Tyr ahead of her moved like a broad shouldered ninja. How did he do it? Intent. Which, quite clearly she simply could not risk using. She could still feel how her nails had become claws and how badly she’d wanted to use them.

Then to watch the woman go through having her corruption drained. No, thank you. She’d rather trip and stumble her way through this hike.

Tyr’s hand flew up as he clenched it into a fist. Guess some gestures stood the test of time. Sal stopped, her foot mid-way through its stride. Balancing on one foot was not her strong suit.

Luckily Tyr grabbed her wrist and pulled her down into the brush.

“What’s wrong?” Sal whispered.

“I believe one of the beasts has doubled back to check their trail.”

Sal pulled herself into the smallest ball she could. Tyr cocked his head. Did he hear something? Then she heard it. The slightest snap of a branch. They were hard to miss. Nice to know even beasts could make mistakes.

At first, her eyes refused to believe what was in front of her. The leopard’s coat was so perfectly mottled that Sal had a hard time making out its shape. The beast slipped through the shadows nearly perfectly.

The beast raised it large triangular head, sniffing the air. Trying to smell them just as Tyr could smell a beast. Its large black nostrils flared open and closed. It then let out something akin to a bark.

The beast seemed healthy until it turned its head in her direction. One eye was a milky white and the other had bloody drainage. There was a hole just below the white eye that leaked a serosanguinous fluid. It was also limping on its left forepaw.

From the brush, a half way descended human followed. This one could not decide if it should still walk on two feet or four. It was awkward and gangly. It too did not seem healthy.

No wonder the pride was moving so slowly.

Which was a good thing. A healthy beast would have sniffed them out for sure.

After a few moments, the leopard swung its head away from them and traveled back the way it came. The accomplice stood, half way erect, for another three breaths, then dropped down to all fours and followed its companion.

Tyr kept them hidden for another minute or two. It was hard to keep track of time as his pulse pounded in her ears. And his scent curled up in her nose. Why was the mixture of leather and sweat so evocative? No matter the hurt and heartache, that scent got her thinking maybe they could work things out.

Her body had no idea whatsoever what was keeping her from reaching out and stroking that tantalizing stubble on his cheek.

And with his arm wrapped around her, it would be so very easy to reach out. To nibble on that stubble, kiss down his neck.

Stop it. Sal demanded of her body. Look at what trouble it had gotten her into before.

Tyr turned to her. His blue eyes blazing. His lips full and inviting.

“Salista,” he said, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand.

Oh how she wished she could lean into that touch. To surrender to her passion. To feel his hands on her flesh. She could remember yielding to him far too well.

“Don’t,” she begged. “Just don’t.”

He didn’t stop though. Instead his hand traveled down her neck, his thumb stroking the tender flesh there. “Salista,” he whispered again.

Her name had never sounded so beautiful. Her body ached to respond in kind. What harm could it do?

Unfortunately that was a question that her mind could answer. It could do the greatest harm. Sal could still remember the hot, hurt tears rolling down her cheek. Worse that moment when she realized that Tyr was making out with her arch nemesis.

Her heart still had healed after being cleaved in half.

“I am so sorry,” Tyr whispered.

Those were the words she had been dying to hear for how long? But did they really fix anything? He was sorry, but did that mean he would treat her heart any differently now?

Tyr leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers. “For everything.”

“But would you do it any differently?” Sal asked, trying to keep her head about her.

He pulled back so that he could look into her eyes. “You know I could not.”

Sal sniffed back tears. No matter what her body wanted, her heart would never be safe with Tyr.

“And if it came down between the killing a beast and hurting me, you would still go after the beast.”

Tyr’s eyebrows came together as if he was trying to puzzle out a trick question. “Of course.”

God, you had to love his honesty. He had never lied to her. As much as she sometimes wished he had.

Sal put her hand on his cheek. That stubble tantalizing her.

“Tyr, you are DeadBlood. You will always be DeadBlood. I think I finally understand that now.” She didn’t want to, but she did. “So please, let me go.”

“But…” Tyr stopped mid-sentence. “The love I felt yesterday when Alex was clearing the corruption.”

Yes, Sal had felt it too. It seemed to rip open the scab that had been holding her heart together. “That was not for you.”

Tyr cocked his head, the faintest smile on his lips.

“It was for the man you would be if you weren’t DeadBlood,” Sal explained. It might be a fine distinction, but it was the most important distinction.

Tyr frowned. She felt like she had hurt his feelings, but it was the truth. She couldn’t allow herself to fall back into love with a DeadBlood. No matter how freaking hot he was.

His body stiffened as he moved out from under her touch. “You are right, of course.”

Then he was up and moving away. Every fiber of Sal’s being wanted to reach out to him. Apologize. Comfort him. That, however, was the last thing she could do.

It was best if they kept their distance and kept their eye on the ball. They needed to stop Vitalis from, you know, destroying the world.

Sal pushed herself up, brushing off the twigs and leaves from her behind as Tyr climbed up a ridge.

“Is this the Bay of Bodega?” Tyr asked.

Sal climbed but the ridge and looked out over the harbor. It was a fairly large body of water separated from the ocean by a small lick of land that jutted out from the coastline, leaving only a very narrow opening into the bay.

“Yes.”

“And this spark of atom facility?” Tyr asked.

Sal tried to remember her landmarks. The plant had not been built yet in her time. She only knew of it because of all the hoopla surrounding the proposal. It had been scuttled for a while, but as gas costs went up, the proposal went back on the table. She assumed that eventually the power company got their way. “I believe it was just north of the bay.”

Tyr squinted. “There is no sign of it, but nothing of your era lasted near the coasts. Too much wind, sand and salt.”

He was right. You would never know that there had been a bustling beachside community here. It was bursting with tourists during the summer. Richard and she would come up some fall weekends to enjoy the coast.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

“There,” Tyr said pointing.

The pride had reached the coast and seemed to be searching for something. The underground entrance to the plant. Where the nuclear material would be located.

And there would be a lot of it. Way more than in the submarine, however the sub’s nuclear material was turbo charged since they wanted the engines to run for the sub’s entire lifetime. Well, at least some of Alex’s guided tour was sticking with her.

Her laptop beeped from inside its case. Sal opened it. Before they left her time, her laptop had been searching for everything about radiation on the west coast. She found an article primed on the screen about a lot of controversy around the San Onoferi plant. Something about thermal contamination. That by using ocean water to cool the power plant, it would discharge warmed water back into the ocean, which was like a miniature experiment in global warming.

Bad organisms like red algae thrived while fish died off, killing off the fishing industry in the area. She could have easily identified the plant if it were functioning. But how to tell hundreds of years later?

Her laptop brought up another article showing the staining of the nuclear discharge area.

Sal looked up, scanning the northern shore. Was that area stained red? Had the red algae been there so long that it had tainted the underwater rocks? Sal needed more height. She climbed past Tyr to higher up the ridge.

“Be careful,” Tyr said. “We cannot allow ourselves to be seen.”

Sal stayed low, making her way up to the highest peak. “Look,” she said.

There was a plume of red rocks that fanned out from the coast into the ocean. It was right where she thought the plant should have been. The beasts were far from it. They were searching within the bay itself.

“They are miles from the sight. And the underground bunker must be completely overgrown.”

“I do not see Vitalis with them,” Tyr said, scanning the group of beasts and accomplices. The leopard and awkward half-beast had re-joined their group.

“So he is headed to your father’s kingdom?”

Tyr nodded. “I think we must abandon this pride and strike east.”

Sal had no argument. The chances this pride would actually find the nuclear material was pretty slim.

“We make for the highway again,” Tyr stated.

Sal simply followed Tyr down the ridge, through the forest and out to the flatter meadow. There was no real road, of course, there was only a slightly depressed portion of the meadow.

She trotted to catch up with him.

* * *

Tyr watched over his shoulder as Salista ran to him. How he wished she was running to him, not just to rejoin him in his quest, but to run to him.

Yesterday’s events had awakened something in Tyr that he thought he had adequately buried. His feelings for Salista were refreshed. Raw. Painful. Lovely. Back in her time, his defenses had been down. He had felt out of his element. As if the weight of his DeadBlood did not bend his shoulders.

It felt a fantasy. That it was not his life he was living. So why not have feelings? Why not fall in love? Nothing could come of it, he’d rationalized.

Too late he realized the feelings were real. His desire to stay with her nearly overwhelming. But that battle cry that never died in his gut, rang out again once the beast fled back to his time.

Once he realized the beast was let loose in his time again, Tyr knew that he needed to go home. It wasn’t until he stood in her apartment, tears of joy streaming down her face, that Tyr’s plan crystalized. His desire to lay her was genuine, what he planned to do after was not.

He had yielded to her honestly, but knowing what he must do next. It had made the night bittersweet. Both a high point of his life and also the lowest.

But he was DeadBlood.

Even that reason was starting to feel hollow to his ears. How many things had he done contrary to his conscious, under the cover of being a DeadBlood? Were there no other ways he could have gotten heartbroken blood? Salista had only been the efficient way.

He had stuffed all of that behind his duty. He had done what was needed and that had been enough for him. Until yesterday.

Alex and his ingenious technique had opened it all back up. So wide in fact that not even his duty seemed to fill the breach.

Why was duty no longer enough? Why had love hurt so very badly? Why was he born DeadBlood?

Tyr stumbled to a stop.

“What’s wrong?” Salista asked behind him, touching his elbow.

“Nothing,” he answered reflexively, even though everything was wrong. He’d never once. Not during his training. Not as a teen fighting beasts three times his size. Not even with Lainli. He’d never questioned his birth or the burden that being a DeadBlood brought with it.

He liked being an outsider. He liked being above the law. He liked traveling the world with impunity.

That had always been enough. And the satisfaction of killing beasts. But now that they could be reverted, would it be as satisfying? Would his life become a series of captures and reversions?

Somehow that prospect did not sing in his heart. He had been born and trained to fight and to kill. Now he had to wonder how much that had cost him?

Tyr headed off again, trying to act as if his world was not crashing down around him.

“Seriously,” Salista said. “What’s wrong?”

Tyr shrugged, trying to slough off not only her words, but his odd mood. “I took a blow yesterday that is just catching up with me today.”

It was not a lie.

Salista swung her pack around. “Do you need some of the solution?”

“Nah,” Tyr said. If only the solution could heal the injury to his soul. “We must conserve what we have for serious injury.”

Salista nodded, swinging her pack back over her shoulder. “Have we left enough markers?”

“Dyn will know we are back on the road to my father’s court.”

With a grin, Salista set off again, taking the lead.

The view improved exponentially.

Tyr sighed, pushing back down all that had welled up. His kingdom would be under attack shortly and he had could have no doubts. No questioning. Over the next few days he had to be the most DeadBlood he had ever been.

CHAPTER 19

Alex gunned the Jeep over another hill. Dyn grabbed the dashboard as the car went airborne for a moment. Alex glanced into the mirror. Finnia also lifted off of her seat. Her hands frantically searched for a purchase.

The woman had seemed unsettled after they left the baby behind. Like she didn’t know what to do with herself without the child to care for. Like she wasn’t quite used to being human any more.

“Sorry,” Alex mumbled as they hit another hole, then bounced out of it. The pride and therefore Tyr and Sal had made it further than they had guessed. It was past mid-day and they still had to catch up.

“The right,” Dyn shouted. “To the right.”

Alex cranked on the wheel, but Dyn waved his hands. “Right.”

Oh yah. Right.

Alex reversed course, skidding the Jeep until its tires were on flatter ground. This part of the highway was pretty overgrown.

“But this is going east,” Alex commented. “I thought we were going to the coast.”

“Apparently plans have changed,” Dyn stated.

Alex had to step on the gas as the road climbed the foothills. They had to get over this range to rejoin what used to be the interstate 5.

“They shouldn’t be far,” Dyn stated, looking up to the sun.

He could almost read the thane’s mind. He worried that something happened. Something that he could have prevented if they hadn’t split up. Despite all of the bumps and rough patches, Dyn had never asked Alex to slow down.

The engine ground as they topped the hill. The redwood forest spread out on either side. The huge, ancient trees, which would have been saplings back in his time, towered above them. It was like driving through a forest of immense brown statues.

Light could only make it through the thick trees in dappled splotches. Even though it was early afternoon, the forest seemed in an eternal twilight.

Alex glanced in the rearview mirror. Now that the road had smoothed out again, Finnia curled up in the backseat, her head against the seat as if she didn’t want to see the world through human eyes.

He worried about her. Maybe Tyr was right. Maybe you could take the corruption out of the blood, but not out of the soul. Finnia certainly seemed to be suffering. Her hand, though, was over her belly. He hoped the child would come out happier than the mother.

“There!” Dyn shouted, pointing ahead. “That must be them.”

Normally, Alex would honk, but he didn’t know how close the pride was. Instead he just sped up.

Salista turned around first, waving. He was sure that Tyr had heard them, but the man kept marching forward.

Alex pulled up alongside his sister.

“Ugh, I’ve never been so happy to see a set of wheels in my life,” Salista said, leaning up against the car, pulling off her boot and emptying it of a few rocks. “How did the transfer go?”

“Good,” Alex said which was only a little bit of a white lie. They’d almost gotten gutted by pitch forks but all that ended well, went well, right?

“The pride?” Dyn asked.

Salista nodded to the coast. “They are looking, but in the wrong spot. Plus Vitalis wasn’t with them so Tyr made the decision to strike inland.”

“So the pride is nothing more than a distraction then?” Dyn said with a frown.

“Seems like it,” Salista said as she climbed into the back seat. Finnia moved over, making room for his sister.

Alex inched the Jeep up until he was level with Tyr, who did not immediately get in. He looked the vehicle up and down with the same level of disdain as he had back in Ellismayberry.

“The horses have not caught up?” Tyr asked.

“Not by far,” Dyn stated. “We must ride in this contraption to your kingdom.”

Tyr grunted and slid in next to Salista. “If we must.”

“Sis, you sure you don’t want to drive?” Alex offered.

She shook her head. “Looks like you’ve gotten the hang of it.”

That was perhaps the most encouraging thing she’d said to him in a decade.

And you know what? Alex would take it.

* * *

Sal found herself nearly drifting off to sleep. The jarring motion of the Jeep rocking her to sleep. It had been a long ass day already and the sun wasn’t even close to the horizon.

As the rolling hillside passed by, Sal missed her home. Sure San Francisco had its problems. Especially the Mission District. It was crowded, polluted, and filled with crime. Yet, there was an energy in the air. You felt alive.

She knew that people constantly talked about getting back to nature. To how it made them feel more connected and whole. Sal found it hollow. They had been traveling for hours and hadn’t seen a single soul. It made her feel lonely and strangely vulnerable. Especially when she sat next to the man she thought that she loved. Feeling his body so close to hers.

A crow flew overhead, cawing as it went. It now dominated the skies. Greenpeace would be so happy.

“Oh my god,” Alex exclaimed from the front seat.

Sal scanned ahead to see what had prompted his outburst. He pointed up.

As the Sierra Mountains rose from the valley floor, Sal found a castle. A massive castle build into the mountain. It was huge. It seemed to take up the entire landscape as far as they could see.

“Raven’s Perch,” Dyn stated. “The King’s summer court.”

Summer court? You mean he had another one? She couldn’t even imagine what his winter court looked like.

Further down the hillside ran an equally massive wall. Sal had never seen the Great Wall, however this thing looked to challenge it. Sal was certain it too could be seen from space.

The thing snaked its way through the hills, rising and falling with the terrain. It looked like it was built with natural rock, just put together like the largest Tetris game of all time.

Periodically along its length, the wall was fit with gates. The largest of which barred the way up the main road to the castle.

Directly within the walls were huts and single story houses. They were packed next to one another so tightly, that it reminded Sal of the Tenderloin district. Nearly every square inch between the wall and the castle was filled with homes. As they approached, the sounds of the community began to overcome the drone of the Jeep.

Children’s laughter. The clink of dishes. The pounding of the blacksmith.

But all of that was dwarfed by the castle. The outer walls were lined with quartz. A common enough mineral in California.

The walls shone in the late afternoon sun. The thing was ten, twelve stories high? It dominated the skyline. Flags of green and red fluttered from nearly every window.

“Do not let flies in,” Tyr said.

Sal wasn’t quite sure what he meant until she realized that her jaw, in fact, was dangling open. Sal shut it, but that didn’t stop her from being awed. Finnia was next to her, curled up into a near ball, hiding her eyes away from the sight.

As they approached, the main gate opened and a grouping of at least a dozen riders galloped toward them. Each wore a full set of armor that would have made Monty Python proud. Each also held a spear, pointing straight up to the sky. It looked like a pack of porcupines were advancing on them. Was this a welcome party or an attack?

Dyn stood up while the car was still going which was pretty damned brave given Alex’s perchance for finding each and every hole in the road. The thane waved to the party. The lead rider waved back.

Whew. Welcoming party then.

Quickly the riders joined them, surrounding them, acting as a protective phalanx as they neared the gate.

“Dyn,” the leader stated, bowing his head. “We are greatly honored by your presence.”

Was it just Sal or was this greeting texturally different than at Ellismayberry? Everyone there seemed to keep the DeadBloods at an arm’s length. Here, the riders were right up against the Jeep. All of them nodding or bowing their heads.

“As honored as I am to enter the kingdom of the towering forest.”

The leader bowed his head once again. “We have been charged with escorting you to the throne room.”

The gate was opened ahead of them so that Alex could drive them directly through the wall. He downshifted, quite noisily, slowing as they passed into the interior of the wall. People were lined along the narrow road. They did not seem quite as friendly as the guards.

Their faces held fear and concern, but none dared approach the Jeep. Mothers clutched their children to their skirts. Most appeared to be peasants dressed in simple cotton clothes although an occasional silk shirt or skirt dotted the crowd. They seemed be the gentry.

The scene reminded her of the Alcatraz benefit. No wonder Tyr had seemed so at home there. This was his reality.

The nearer they approached, the more and more silk appeared, until the crowd was a sea of bright colors. It appeared that everyone had turned to greet them, or at the least gawk at them.

The Jeep’s engine groaned as the road became steep, nearly straight up as it approached a large iron gate. Upon the nod of the lead rider, a loud clank then churning sounded as the metal was lifted. The interior to the castle slowly came into view.

It was as beautiful on the inside as it was on the outside. The road was cobblestone, polished to a gleam. The walls were whitewashed with brightly colored doors. A large fountain stood in the middle of the courtyard. The centerpiece was a giant grizzly bear, spouting water from the top of his head.

The splashing of the water reminded her of the California Academy of Science at Golden Gate Park. A structure long since demolished. She probably couldn’t even find the ashes of it now.

The concept that this castle, which seemed so old, was actually her world’s future still didn’t set well in her skull. She’d spent the past few days trying not to think of such things. It just made her slightly dizzy.

But this castle was a full-on wake up call. This structure could not be ignored.

The Jeep bumped over the border between the dirt road and the cobblestone. The tires slipped a little on the slick stone.

Before Sal could suggest it, Alex downshifted again, tapping the brakes, slowing them to a near crawl. They couldn’t go any faster as the crowd pressed up against them. The streets themselves were already very narrow, but with all the people in the street? It was downright like trying to get through the Haight-Ashbury district during a gay pride parade.

Here, unlike the outer area, people cheered and shouted. Children waved and their mothers didn’t slap their hands down. Fear was not nearly as prevalent, however there seemed to be an edge to the celebration. Like the crowd could turn on them at any moment.

Dyn waved back, smiling. Tyr however was hunched over next to Sal. His face was sour. Of course this was the kingdom that had rejected him. He had been orphaned here.

“Should we stable your contraption?” the mounted leader asked.

“I think it best if we park it ourselves,” Dyn stated.

Since no one here had ever driven before, or even knew what a car was, that sounded best.

“But that doesn’t mean Tyr and you can’t get out here. We will escort Finnia to the barns then rejoin you.”

Tyr didn’t seem any too happy about this, but got out of the Jeep. Sal followed closely.

“May I lead the lady to her chambers?” the rider asked.

“Nay,” Tyr stated. “I shall accompany her.”

The rider smiled apologetically. “But your quarters are on opposite sides of the castle.”

“I shall not leave her side,” Tyr stated.

The rider tilted his head forward. Not quite a bow, but close. “Then both of you follow me.”

Tyr waved his arm for Sal to take the lead. He followed behind her, the heels of his boots clicking against the marble floors.

Within moments, Sal was lost. They had taken four different passage turns, climbed several staircases. It was no wonder there wasn’t anyone overweight in sight. Damn, this was like being on the most brutal Stairmaster.

By the time they reached her room, Sal was ready for a shower and a nap.

The rider opened a large oak door to reveal the most luxurious room she’d ever seen, and she’d stayed at the Mandolin in Vegas. The floors were covered in fur. Normally Sal would have been appalled, but in this time, that bearskin was probably from a bear that had actually attacked someone, not by some trophy hunter. The walls were lined in silk, draping down from the ceiling. A roaring fire was crackling in the huge stone fireplace. The bed was four-poster with more silk covering the top, making the most elegant princess bed ever.

She’d dreamed of having a room like this when she was little.

Tyr, seemingly unimpressed, walked into the room, checking each and every corner of it, even pulling out the chamber pot from under the bed like a beast might be hiding in it.

“Shall I show you to your room?” the rider asked, his chainmail clinking a bit as he shifted his weight.

“Nay, I shall stay here,” Tyr stated.

The rider frowned. “There is but one bed, sire. It would not be seemly. Those were not the arrangements.”

“Then contact the under butler and make the arrangements. I shall sleep on the chair.”

The rider looked like he wanted to argue, but Tyr had that set to his jaw that no one argued with.

“Of course, sire. I will alert the King and Queen to your arrival. They had planned on an audience in the throne room at five.”

Tyr bowed his head. “We shall be in attendance.”

“And changed?” the rider suggested.

“And properly assembled for the royal court, yes,” Tyr answered, seeming a bit annoyed.

The rider exited, closing the stout oak door behind him. It banged shut.

Sal breathed out through her nose, trying to stop the room from spinning. This really was like walking into a Lord of the Rings novel. Lionel would be freaking out right about now.

Tyr however, seemed un-phased even though he spent most of his time deep in the dangerous forests.

“Have you visited here much?” Sal asked.

Tyr just shook his head, staring out the window that looked over the courtyard.

“You can take off your coat if you like.”

Again he shook his head. “We shall not be here long. Just enough for the audience then out on patrol.”

“I thought you were going to stay here?” Sal asked.

Tyr turned away from here. “It was easier to say that, than to say that I would be declining the crown’s hospitality all together.”

That made her sad somehow. He couldn’t take just a moment to relax and soak up the beauty of the room.

“You had best change,” Tyr suggested, nodding to the dress draped over the bed. Sal walked up to it, a bit as if it might strike out at her like a snake.

It was a bright red. A stunning red velvet dress with hunter green ribbon trim. It was the finest dress she had ever seen. It so wasn’t her. Not that she was a tomboy. She could wear a dress if she had to. From Ross though, not this rich fabric.

Tyr looked out the window again, surveying the breadth of the courtyard. “You’d best hurry. We cannot be late for the audience.”

Sal grabbed the dress, looking around for a door to the bathroom. Of course there wasn’t one. There wasn’t a bathroom. Where was she going to change?

Tyr nodded to the corner where there was a painted screen. “You shall be shielded behind there.”

Sal blushed, embarrassed that she hadn’t noticed it. Also, she was more than a little shy about changing, even behind the curtain. She rushed to the corner, ducking behind the thick screen, changing as quickly as she could.

* * *

Tyr tried to ignore what was happening in the corner. To think of Salista disrobing brought about some uncomfortable feelings. His desire to walk over there had to be suppressed. Instead, he studied the armaments of the castle. Imaging how the beasts might attack the castle if so was their bent.

So he was startled when Salista called out behind him. “Well?”

He turned to find not Salista, but a vision. The dress clung to her womanly curves, making him wish he could not remember her yielding to him. Even road weary and her hair a fright, he had never seen such a beautiful woman.

“You are presentable,” Tyr choked out.

“Oh,” Salista said, smoothing the velvet fabric along her hip. “I was shooting for slightly better than that.”

“You shall outshine the Queen herself,” Tyr managed to state without too much choking on his words.

Salista smiled, illuminating her whole face. “That’s more like it.”

A knock came at the door. Tyr snapped back into himself. No matter that they were at court, they were still in danger. There were many in the court and even in the King’s counsel that were not quite as accepting of DeadBloods as the King and Queen.

Tyr went to the door and opened it a crack. Several ladies in waiting stood in the hallway. “We are here to help the lady dress,” the nearest one stated.

Opening the door wider, Tyr allowed the women in. “You are the Queen’s lady, are you not?”

The eldest of the women nodded. “Aye, and this is my daughter, Alyssa.”

The younger woman bowed her head. “My sire.”

Tyr waved his hand. “I am DeadBlood.”

Alyssa’s young cheeks blushed. She was what fifteen at the most? “Of course, my err, Lord.”

She then choked while giggling.

“Alyssa!” her mother barked.

“Sorry,” Alyssa managed to croak out. “I am just…”

“Nervous?” Tyr suggested.

“Aye,” Alyssa agreed. “This is my first time meeting any outsiders, let alone a DeadBlood.”

Tyr nodded. The daughter of the Queen’s lady in waiting would have lived a most sheltered life.

“She is here,” Tyr stated, nodding to Salista.

“Oh my,” the lady in waiting said. “You have already dressed.”

“I’m sorry, is that a problem?” Salista asked.

“It is my err,” Tyr said, realizing that they had seriously broken ceremony. “I did not realize the crown was sending you so I had her dress.”

The lady in waiting bowed her head. “It is our err then. We should have been here when you arrived.” She urged Salista toward a seat in front of the vanity. “We would have drawn you a bath and gotten the tangles, and twigs, from your hair.”

Salista blushed. “You know what, I think I’m just a little glad we skipped the bathing part, but the twigs, that would be helpful.

As the women primped, Tyr turned back to the window. People streamed into the area. It appeared that the audience was going to be a full assembly. Nobles and prominent peasants alike were attending. The call must have gone out before the King and Queen even returned to court. He could see the colors of providences that ranged as far north as the Great Sound and as far east as the Endless Desert and all the lands between.

Every duchy or even village had a stake in this assembly. The beasts organizing a concerted attack like Ellismayberry was a concern for one and all. They had gotten lucky at the vineyard duchy. Many other villages or even towns might not have survived such an attack. It truly was everyone’s worst nightmare.

The harrying beasts were bad enough, making raids, killing livestock, stealing unattended children. But a full dozen of them descending on a village? The thought kept many elders awake at night.

And now the day had come. A window back in time to the Harrowing. When it was uncertain if the beasts would win and obliterate human kind. For the first time in centuries, the future teetered, not knowing which way it would fall.

Tyr gripped the hilt of his sword, determined not to allow the worst to come. He would fight his brother to death to make sure the world was safe. He could not allow Vitalis to win. He would not allow Vitalis to win.

“There,” Alyssa stated.

Tyr turned back to the vanity as Salista rose. What had been a vision before was now a goddess. Her blond hair had been tamed down into a sleek bun. Her eyes were a smoky kohl and her lips a bright, inviting red.

He felt his breath catch in his throat.

Here is what he fought for. To allow such beauty to exist in the world.

“Seriously, dude, you need to work on your social skills,” Salista said.

Tyr coughed, clearing his throat. “You are a vision, m’lady.”

Salista smiled. “So I’m fit to meet your parents?”

He felt his spine stiffen. The King and Queen were not his parents. They had sired him perhaps, but family? Never.

She was too beautiful to argue with though, so he simply nodded, walking over to the door and opening it.

Alyssa took Salista’s hand, squeezing it to her hip. “They are going to love you,” the teen gushed.

“I can only hope,” Salista said as she passed Tyr into the hallway.

Tyr had no doubt of it though.

CHAPTER 20

Alex adjusted his belt. This whole outfit was so not cool. It was pretty and all. His “over-shirt” was more like a tunic dress with the King’s redwood crest. His “pants” were more like leggings. And the boots? A drag queen’s wet dream. Then the hat with its feather? Really? What was he, a musketeer?

“You look fine,” Dyn stated. Sure, he could say that. He was still in his leathers. Apparently DeadBloods could wear whatever the hell they wanted to at court. Some kind of ‘get out of jail free’ card.

Since Alex was not yet an official DeadBlood of the realm, he needed to dress the fop apparently. Finnia looked pretty though. It turned out the woman cleaned up pretty good. She needed to since she was the first person of the kingdom to start the descent and be reversed. Granted she was just a little fuzzy, but still that seemed like an awfully big deal around here.

“Stop primping,” Dyn ordered, smacking Alex’s hand down. “Carry yourself as a man.”

With a feather in his cap and leggings? Really? How exactly did one cowboy up in this outfit?

No matter, Alex knew that Dyn would not let it go, so he kept his hands to his side.

Dyn turned to Finnia. “You are ready?”

The woman bowed her head. “I shall speak my story properly.”

Dyn nodded. There was no reason to delay any longer. Dyn pushed aside a thick wool curtain and stepped out into the throne room.

Crap, this place was huge. And not dark and dingy like Game of Thrones. The ceiling went all the way up the side of the mountain. He could see blue sky above them as sunlight streamed in. Assisting the sun, torches lined the tall walls. It was nearly as bright in here as it was outside. The hot afternoon air, though, was tempered by the rock wall.

It was almost cool in the throne room, despite about two hundred people being in attendance.

The King and Queen sat on thrones worthy of their stature.

Gilded and bright, they too were the opposite of Game of Thrones. Alex really hoped that meant that there wouldn’t be any beheadings as well.

As much as the thrones glowed, so did those in attendance. Alex had never seen so much silk and velvet, and he lived in San Francisco. Gems on the necks of high ladies glistened in the light. Rubies, emeralds and diamonds. It was like they were in a jewelry store.

A woman next to Tyr waved at him. Why would she do that? She was dressed in a deep red gown accented in green and gold. Her hair was swept back, sleek and beautiful. Her eyes were like embers glowing from the smoke of her eye shadow.

“Well, wave back,” Dyn said, nudging Alex.

“Um why?” Alex stated. He didn’t know her.

“That’s your sister,” Dyn stated.

Alex took a step back. No way. No how. That was not Salista.

But the more he looked at her, the more he recognized her nose and lips, although they had never been quite so red before. Her slightly awkward stance. Half way between a lady and a tomboy. Alex guessed that he was just used to seeing his sister strung out after a seventy-hour shift. He was used to dark circles under her eyes and slightly ghastly pale complexion.

Picking up his hand, he gave a wave back to the sister he hadn’t recognized. Then a girl behind her came into view. She wasn’t wearing nearly as much finery or make-up, yet shone out at Alex. The girl looked to be about his age, but dang, she was a hottie-bo-bottie. She wore a casual smile, glancing around the throne room, whispering to an older woman. Both would chuckle occasionally.

Her dark hair was like spun silk and her complexion would make a baby’s bottom seem rough.

Then Tyr shifted his weight and blocked Alex’s view of the girl.

“Let’s get across to the other side,” Dyn said, guiding Finnia in front of him, down the steps and into the crowd.

Yes, getting over there sounded like a great idea to Alex. He trotted down the steps and was right on Dyn’s heel as they wove their way through the gentry to get to the other side of the throne.

He snaked his way past princes and dukes to make it to the other side. He climbed the steps slowly, trying to act cool, even though he didn’t feel one bit cool. Instead, it felt like his body was on fire. At any moment he expected his clothes to catch fire.

Dyn led the way, edging past Tyr and Salista to stand near the dais. Finnia followed him, her head bent so that you could barely make out her features. Who cared about that though?

Alex stood next to his sister. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, right? Of course he would stand by Salista. He tried to edge closer to the nameless girl when he accidently stepped on her toe.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” he whispered.

“No, sire, it was my fault,” the girl answered. Her voice as honeyed as he would expect from such an angel.

“I am no, sire,” Alex explained. “I’m just here with my sister and Tyr.”

The girl bowed her head and gave a curtsy. “Then you are most revered to travel with not just one but two DeadBloods.”

Okay, maybe this whole DeadBlood thing might not be so bad after all. Not if it got the respect of a girl like this. How he wished he wasn’t in this extremely un-masculine get up. The ruffle at his throat was really a mood killer.

He went to say something else, anything else to the radiant girl, but Tyr shushed him as the King stood.

“As you all know, we face a dire future. The beasts have gathered and Vitalis, my fallen son, is bent on our destruction.”

* * *

Tyr could not believe that he heard his father’s word correctly. None claimed a DeadBlood and certainly not a corrupted beast. But there his father was, on the most prominent throne in the world, declaring such a thing. The room was abuzz. The nobles were whispering amongst themselves.

“My other son, Tyr DeadBlood, has tracked him through hill and ravine and even through time to stop his vile plan. We fear that Vitalis intends to strike at the core of the kingdom, here at this very castle to try and descend us all into another age of Harrowing.”

The room took a collective gasp. Whether that was for the King acknowledging that he had a DeadBlood son or the falling of the kingdom, Tyr wasn’t sure. Each seemed equally repugnant to the lords and ladies that filled the throne room.

“We have gathered all the DeadBloods in the land to help us with this threat. I would ask all of you to treat them with the respect and courtesy they deserve. Any beast-hardened warriors will be riding under their banner if an attack does come.”

The King looked out over his subjects. “This is our darkest hour. We must put aside our petty conflicts and prejudices. We must come together as a nation to fight this evil and vanquish it for once and all.”

The crowd still whispered but now they were nodding, encouraging the King to continue. Tyr surveyed the room. You didn’t need to be a DeadBlood to figure out who was loyal to the crown and who was looking to capitalize on this crisis to increase their own standing. One lord in particular, the one with the mountain lion crest on his shield, looked particularly hungry for power. And were his brows just a little too close together?

Had this ambitious lord delved where he should not have delved? Was he in league with Vitalis? What had his brother promised the lord for him to betray his country and King?

Tyr glanced over to Dyn, caught his eye, and then nodded to the lord. Dyn gave a slow inclination of his head. He too felt the man a danger. Tyr would need to wait until after the assembly, but he would have a word with this man. He looked to Salista. Perhaps her solution could come in handy once again. Could it identify a traitor before the more obvious external signs showed?

“By all that I hold dear, I swear to you that I will fight to my last breath to protect this kingdom and I shall not rest until the threat is extinguished.”

The crowd clapped as the King sat back down.

The Queen rose in his place. “To that end, we have another DeadBlood to induct into the order.”

* * *

Dyn guided Alex forward. What in the heck was happening? Nobody warned him about this. He glanced over his shoulder at Salista who only urged him forward as well.

The Queen stood, so resplendent in her white silk gown, holding a sword. Alex had clearly watched way too much GOT. He was certain that blade was meant for his neck.

Dyn however wouldn’t let him back away. The thane made sure Alex knelt in front of the Queen who frowned.

“He is a little old to be taking his vows, is he not?” the Queen asked.

Dyn bowed his head. “He is not of this world, my lady. He was blind to his gifts and importance, but Tyr and I have taken him in and will teach him the ways of his kind.”

The Queen smiled. “I am sure that you will.” She raised the sword, then set it flat against Alex’s right shoulder.

“Do you, Alejandro Calon, forsake your name and family and cling only to the DeadBloods?”

Um, no, not really. He loved his sister. Dyn, however, nudged him from behind.

“Yes,” Alex croaked out.

“Do you swear to live to protect this kingdom and never use your powers to harm an innocent?”

“Sure,” Alex responded. He glanced over to see Salista glaring at him. What? This was some heady stuff that nobody prepared him for.

The Queen raised her sword then set it down on his left shoulder. “I deem you then, Alex DeadBlood. You now can walk the world without restraint. Talk to kings as equals and lead any army of your choosing.”

Okay, that part sounded a whole heck of a lot better. He glanced again to his sister, but caught the mystery girl’s eye. She smiled radiantly back at him.

Yeah, Alex was marking this one down as a good day.

“You may rise,” the Queen said, and accepted a package from one of her hand maidens. She turned and handed the package to Alex. “This is yours then. Wear them with pride.”

Alex looked to Dyn who nodded that it was okay for him to open the package. He untied the leather string and the paper wrapping blossomed to reveal a set of leathers like Dyn and Tyr’s.

Cool.

He glanced over his shoulder to find both Salista and the girl beaming.

Oh, yeah. He could ditch these idiotic silks and get his leather on.

Like he said. This was a great day.

* * *

Sal had never gotten to see Alex receive any kind of accolades for a very long time. Like T-ball a long time ago. He hadn’t finished his cub scouts tasks. He hadn’t graduated high school. The kid had barely kept himself out of jail.

But here he was in the high court, receiving his DeadBlood leathers. Even though it was because of his blood and not necessarily anything he had done, Sal was still proud, and so happy to see Alex so proud. Actually, Alex had grown more in the last few days than he had in years. As much as she hated to admit it, Tyr had been a good influence on her brother. Alex turned, his leathers in hand, grinning that goofy grin of his.

His gaze passed by her though, to the girl behind Sal. The daughter of the Queen’s lady in waiting, who grinned back as openly at Alex. Uh oh. That was the last thing Alex needed, to get involved with one of the court’s servants.

Sal stepped to the side, blocking the two youth’s gaze. They didn’t need any Romeo and Juliet action here.

She wrapped her arms around Alex. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, sis,” Alex responded. “Seriously, you can let go.”

If only their mother was alive to see this. She would have practically squeezed the life from Alex. She would have been so proud.

Tears sprang to her eyes and she hugged him again, this time for their mom. And their dad. Alex had so little time with their father, but Sal knew how incredibly proud he would have been as well.

“Sis, you are spoiling the whole tough guy DeadBlood thing.”

She released him again, carefully wiping the tears from her eyes, trying not to muss her make-up much. She couldn’t start blubbering.

Tyr put his hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Let us get you out of these ruffles and into your true clothes.”

Alex beamed. “You know it.”

Tyr turned to Sal. “I will take him to the armory and get him some true weapons of his own. The ladies will take you back to your room. I will rejoin you there.”

Damn how she hated her heart right about now. She didn’t want to be parted from him, not even for a few minutes. Which was stupid. She’d gotten along fine without him for months.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t exactly true. “Fine” was probably a stretch. She had survived, putting one foot in front of the other. Forcing herself to breathe and keep at her job. It had been like the life had been sucked from her form and she was simply a golem, faking her life. The only part of her life she had enjoyed was her work with Lionel and look where that had gotten her.

Lionel had been on her mind a lot since her unfortunate descent. Lionel had participated in as many experiments as she. Was he descending under the surface? And he was alone. What happened if he descended? Who could help him? He had no DeadBloods to help.

“Salista?” Tyr asked.

“Yah, sorry,” she said trying to focus on the present. A present that Lionel would have lost his mind over. He would have gotten his medieval geek on, big time.

Sal smiled at the thought, trying to shove down her concern. There was nothing she could do about it. Not when she and Lionel were separated by over five hundred years.

“M’lady?” the girl behind her asked. “Please follow us.”

Sal did as asked, glancing over her shoulder as Dyn, Finnia, Tyr and Alex exited the throne room through a different door. Why did she feel like she was the weak fawn being cut off from the herd?

She followed Alyssa through the labyrinth of hallways and staircases. Now Sal could see why large hotels had those silly map placards with the fire exits clearly labeled in red. If anything happened here, Sal knew that she couldn’t get to safety if her life depended on it. She would simply be running around in circles as fire chased her heels.

“Here we are,” the girl said, opening her door.

The door looked like any other door in the castle. Sal never would have recognized it. However once she walked into the richly appointed room, it did feel familiar. The screen in the corner. The raging fire. The vanity where she endured all the primping.

The older lady in waiting bowed her head. “I must attend the queen, but my daughter Alyssa will serve you.”

With that the lady in waiting backed out of the room.

“You can go too,” Sal said, sitting on the edge of the plump bed.

“Nay, a lady, especially new to the castle, cannot be without her service.”

Sal sighed. There would be no arguing with the girl, she could tell. “Fine, then how about we get some of this make-up off?”

“But you have the banquet later,” Alyssa replied.

“We can put some back on, but right now, I don’t even recognize myself.”

“Of course,” Alyssa said with a curtsy.

Sal walked over to the vanity but Alyssa stopped her before she could sit down.

“Would you like to change into your robes?”

“I would love that,” Sal said. This corset was nearly cutting off her circulation. Her diaphragm would never be the same, she was certain. It had been crammed together too long.

It was a weird experience, having someone she wasn’t about to get intimate with help take off her clothes. She hadn’t been raised to this so it was a little creepy.

The girl’s hands coursed over her form as if she owned it, tugging her dress up and over Sal’s head. Then there was the corset that took a full two minutes to unlace, but finally she could breathe again. Sal put a stop to the undressing when they got down to the last slip.

“I think I’ll keep this on,” Sal said.

Alyssa inclined her head as if she were used to royalty being a little odd.

The girl went off for a moment, allowing Sal to try and adapt to her situation. Alex was now formally a DeadBlood. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that. She knew how it had scarred Tyr, yet Alex seemed to thrill with a purpose. And she was here to stop society from trampling all over him as it had Tyr.

The most important aspect she should object to, of course, was the whole fighting the beasts things, but at this point, no one was exempt from that duty. Herself included.

A knock came at the door as Alyssa handed Sal a thick cotton robe. She buried herself inside of the deliciously soft material. Alyssa opened the door then immediately kneeled. “M’lady.”

Sal expected the Queen, but instead a younger woman, not much younger than Sal walked into the room. She was dressed to be a queen and wore a brilliant diamond tiara.

Sal did a sort of kind of curtsy. It was awkward, but she hoped it conveyed her acknowledgement of royalty.

“It is not necessary, I am only Princess Haviana,” the woman stated. “Tiber’s older sister.”

Crap, Sal didn’t even know that Tyr had a sister. He never spoke of her, but then again, he never spoke of his family, unless they were DeadBloods like Dyn.

“Nice to meet you,” Sal stated, feeling horribly out of place. “Tyr should be back soon.”

“Oh, I came to speak with you,” Haviana said for some strange reason.

“Me?” Sal squeaked. She was just getting oriented to the court, she was so not ready to talk to royalty one on one, especially not Tyr’s older sister.

“May I?” Haviana said, indicating to one of the overstuffed chairs by the fire.

“Of course,” Sal said, then feeling the need to be polite, sat in a chair across from the Princess.

Haviana’s hands wrung in her lap as tears glistened in her eyes. “As you probably know, at Tyr’s birth I was banned from marriage and having children.”

Sal nodded, gulping.

“I just… I just wanted Tyr to know that I do not resent him as Vitalis has. I know it wasn’t his fault.”

“Then why don’t you tell that him yourself?” Sal asked.

“I would,” Haviana said, “Except he won’t answer my letters or respond to my summons. I was hoping, since you two were so close, that you could let him know. It has weighed heavily on my heart to think he might think we all are like Vitalis.”

“I shall,” Sal said, although she wasn’t sure that Tyr would take it any differently from her.

Haviana rose suddenly, “I will not take up any more of your time.”

Sal jumped up as well then went into another awkward curtsy. Haviana, with perfect posture and poise seemed to float out of the room.

“So tell me now you are no royalty,” Alyssa tsked and urged her over to the vanity where she began taking off Sal’s make-up.

Sal needed to ground herself. She was tired of feeling off balance. And what always soothed her? Work. Science.

“Do we have a pen and paper?”

“Aye,” Alyssa answered. “Do you wish me to fetch you some?”

“If it isn’t too much trouble,” Sal replied.

Alyssa fluttered off, coming back quickly with a piece of rough parchment, a quill and a fountain of ink. “Is this what you needed?”

“Yes, thank you,” Sal stated, dipping the quill into the ink. She began writing down a list of all the substrates that she would need to recreate the corruption leaching solution. If they expected this many beasts, Sal could only hope that some captured would allow themselves to be freed of the corruption. Hopefully they could see her and realize they were not locked in their fate.

Voices rose from behind the wall.

Sal cocked her head.

“My, you are popular today,” Alyssa stated with a grin.

“That sounds like Tyr,” Sal said.

“It probably is,” Alyssa replied. “That is your sitting room.”

“I have another room?”

“Yes, Alyssa said nodding to the bookcase. “There is a hidden latch that opens your bedroom to your sitting room.”

Good to know.

CHAPTER 21

Tyr stood perfectly still. Perhaps if he did not engage with the woman she would simply go away.

“Tiber, please, there is much we must discuss.”

“Queen,” Tyr responded reluctantly. “I must speak with Salista before I head to a strategy meeting with the Captain of the Guard before the banquet.”

“I would not be here if it was not important, Tiber.”

“Tyr,” he responded with a growl.

The Queen sighed. He could imagine she was used to getting what she wanted. If she thought he would give her any quarter, she was wrong.

“M’lady, the beasts are coming. Whatever you have to say can wait.”

“No,” the Queen beseeched. “It is because the beasts are coming, your brother is coming, that we must speak now.”

Even for a DeadBlood it was hard to end an audience with the Queen, but he was about to. Then the door to Salista’s bedchamber opened and Salista walked through. She was wrapped in thick robe, her face back to her own.

“Salista,” Tyr blurted, sounding like a schoolboy.

She smiled at him. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had company.”

“It is the Queen,” Tyr informed her. The Queen was in casual gowns without her crown. Anyone could have made the same mistake.

Salista sputtered, doing a half-curtsy. “I am so sorry, Queen. I did not recognize you.”

“Do not fret, child,” the Queen said. “I was just trying to talk some sense into Tyr.”

Salista chuckled. “Well, when you do, please let me know how you did it,” Salista said with a twinkle in her eye. “But funny you are here, I was going to ask Tyr to get this to you.”

She offered the Queen a piece of paper. The Queen scanned it. “What is this for?”

Salista looked to Tyr. He had an idea of what she was seeking. He nodded for her to continue.

“It is a list of ingredients to the solution that can leech the corruption out of a beast.”

The Queen’s eyes dilated, but she did not respond until she much more carefully studied the list. “I believe we have most of the items, and the ones I do not know I will forward to our alchemists.”

“Thanks,” Salista said. “The sooner I get them, the better. It takes a while to ferment the solution.”

“I shall work on it post haste,” the Queen reassured Salista.

The Queen was about to turn her attention back to him when her lady in waiting rushed into the room.

“M’lady,” the older woman puffed. “You must come immediately. The castle steward needs you.”

“I am sure it can wait,” the Queen responded.

“Nay,” the lady said. “The Duke of Nollingwood and the Grand Earl of Nevian refuse to sit next to one another and are now threatening not to attend the banquet which means each of the fiefdoms will not attend which means…”

“There could be civil war before the beasts even attack,” the Queen sighed. “I will be right along.”

As the lady in waiting scurried out of the room, the Queen turned to Tyr. “You have your respite, Tyr. Use it well, but this conversation is not over.”

She tucked the list that Salista had given her into her sleeve, turned on her heel and rushed from the room.

For a moment Tyr and Salista just stood there in the silence. It was as if the Queen had taken the air from the room.

“What was that about?” Salista asked.

“In truth, I do not know,” Tyr admitted. “She seemed to want to impart some knowledge upon me.”

“And you wouldn’t let her?”

Tyr gritted his teeth. He did not need Salista harping on him as well. He already had Dyn in his ear, begging Tyr to give the Queen a chance to explain.

What was there to explain? She dammed a DeadBlood and gave him over to Dyn. What else could she have to say except she was sorry? Tyr did not want her pity. He wanted no one’s pity. Like the pity in Salista’s eyes right now.

“I only came back to tell you I have been summoned to a war meeting with the Captain of the Guard. I will meet you at the banquet.”

“Okay,” Salista said but she took a step forward. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk?”

“I have never been more sure of anything in my life,” Tyr said, turning to the door.

“Tyr,” Salista whispered, but he ignored the entreaty. Instead he strode through the doorway and into the hall.

He’d had enough of women for the day.

* * *

Alex walked into the banquet hall. It was everything he expected and more. Over each long wooden table hung each country’s banner. There were greens and blues and golds. The banquet was already in full swing and it appeared the ale flowed very freely as loud, raw laughter boomed from the hall.

Servants bustled about the edges, bringing more food and wine to the guests.

At the other end of the hall, a mammoth fire roared. A huge pig was roasting above it, with an orange in its mouth.

Funny how that worked. There were times when he could imagine he was just at some kind of weird Scottish revival, or really, really, really accurate Renaissance Faire, but then there was a pig with an orange in its mouth, showing how traditions had evolved over the last five centuries.

These weren’t his contemporaries or his ancestors. These people were his future. So bizarre.

Dyn urged him forward. “Our table is to the side.”

“I thought we could sit anywhere we liked?” Alex asked, still trying to catch up on the whole DeadBlood social protocol.

“We can, yet we prefer to sit together,” Dyn stated, guiding and forward. Finnia had been shadowing them, eyes to the floor, arms wrapped around her belly the whole time.

Alex didn’t argue with his thane. He simply followed him to a long wooden table that was lined with some pretty rough looking DeadBloods. Most were men, but there were a few women, with bigger biceps than most bodybuilders, amongst the group. They were made of all colors as well. White, black, brown, yellow, red. It didn’t seem to matter what color their skin, it was their blood that united them.

Unlike the rest of the hall, which was in full party mode, the DeadBlood were a pretty sullen bunch. No one spoke. They all just ate and knocked back the ale like it was water.

Funny, it was looking like Tyr was the gregarious one out of the bunch.

Without a word, the DeadBloods parted, making room for Dyn and his party. One sniffed at Finnia and scowled but said nothing. Alex thanked God that he was in his leathers. He didn’t think he could have had the nerve to sit at this table with a ruffled at his throat.

Alex sat down and a servant sat a plate of hard bread, jerky and a thick soup with clotted milk. Really? This was the feast he was promised?

He looked to the other tables that flowed with pastries, fresh roast, and grapes. What the heck?

Clearly the DeadBlood were fed from a separate kitchen. One that probably made the dog food as well.

Then he spied the young lady in waiting. She flashed him a gloriously white smile before she sat at a small table off of the royal table. The King and Queen were yet to arrive, but Alex assumed it was cool for them to be fashionably late.

The girl patted the seat next to her, which Alex noticed had a thick pad unlike the hard wood he sat on.

He did not even need to ask, Dyn just grunted. “Go if you like. You can sit wherever you choose.”

Alex hesitated though. He’d just become a DeadBlood not a few hours ago. Was he abandoning his kind so quickly?

“Just remember a DeadBlood cannot love,” Dyn stated between bites of the hard bread.

Well, that ship had already sailed. He didn’t feel the need to inform Dyn of that though. He simply nodded and rose. Normally he would give his apologies, but the rest of the DeadBlood’s heads were down. They didn’t seem to care if he stayed or went.

So Alex went. He edged his way along the crowded aisle, barely avoiding a huge flask raised in toast and a stray punch one of the drunken guests had thrown. Finally he was at the head of the room. He turned left and made his way to the lovely lady in waiting.

“I’m glad you came over, I wasn’t sure if you would.”

“And miss eating with the most lovely lady in the hall? I think not.” Alex was channeling his inner–Tyr. That crap seemed to work for him on Salista.

“I am Alyssa,” she said, offering her hand.

Normally Alex would have shaken it, but he went with a Tyr move instead. He kissed the back of her hand. “And I am Alex.”

“I know,” she smiled. “You were named at the ceremony.”

“Child,” her mother said. “What are you doing taking up a DeadBlood’s time?”

“It is no bother, Madame,” Alex said, trying really hard to speak as everyone else in this age. “I am still new to this time and I thought Alyssa could help me understand my new world better.”

The older woman huffed. With as little as he knew of the DeadBlood world, Alex knew that they did not usually fraternize with LiveBloods.

Too bad. He was a new breed of DeadBlood.

“Fine, just do not divert him from his duties, child.”

“I won’t Momma,” Alyssa answered. “Where is the Queen?”

“She was still wrangling two royals to the table, but asked that I come out to make sure things were running smoothly.”

“Which they are,” Alyssa stated. “Now sit down and enjoy yourself.”

“I should not,” her mother stated.

“But you are going to,” Alyssa said tugging on her mother’s arm until she sat down on the other side of Alyssa.

Great. Now they had a chaperone.

He’d come five hundred years into the future and still couldn’t catch a break with the ladies.

* * *

Sal walked down the long, stone passage right behind Tyr. He’d come back from his meeting in an even more sour mood than when he had left, which was pretty sour.

She’d tried to ask him what had gone wrong, but he just gave her his patented grunt and turned on the heel. They hadn’t spoken since they left her rooms.

After what seemed like an eternity, they went through a stout door, which opened into the main banquet hall. The place was packed. Like standing room only. The only table not crammed with guests was one off to the side. She recognized only Dyn and Finnia at the table. The woman looked absolutely miserable in contrast to the rest of the LiveBlood guests who seemed to be having the time of their lives.

As her eyes scanned the rooms she found her brother sitting next to her lady in waiting. What was he doing there? And what was he doing in all leathers?

Oh yah, now he was DeadBlood so he wore their official long coat and boots. But what was he doing at that table? Then she saw him flash a smile at Alyssa and the girl giggle back.

Alex had always been a wannabe ladies’ man. Even in preschool, he’d try to talk up the girls. Of course with his lisp that had been kind of hard, but still he tried. To this day, apparently.

And as Alyssa inched a little closer to Alex, it appeared to be working. It must have been the leathers.

Sal didn’t wait for Tyr to guide her down, she headed straight for Alex.

“What are you doing sitting here?” she asked, wedging herself between the beautiful lady in waiting and her brother.

“I can sit wherever I like, Salista,” Alex answered. Apparently trying to pull out his DeadBlood authority.

Yah, she hated to tell him but that didn’t even work for Tyr, let alone her little brother.

“Well, I think you should sit with the other DeadBloods.”

Before Alex could retort, horns blew, announcing the arrival of the King and Queen. The sound of wood scraping against stone filled the room as every single guest rose from their seat. Then they either curtsied or bowed. Save the DeadBloods. The most any of them did was incline their head. Some didn’t even do that.

Salista went into a late curtsy, not going down nearly as low as Alyssa and her mother.

The King and Queen, clearly used to this, bowed and curtsied back, then took their seats. The rest of the room followed suit. However before Alex could sit back down, she grabbed him by the elbow and led him away.

“Time to meet your new friends,” she said cutting off any argument.

They had to navigate the very rowdy aisle between the tables. The place was one fistfight away from a frat house brawl.

Finally they made it to the DeadBloods table, which stood out due to its silence. Jesus, these people were stoic.

Alex took a seat next to Dyn, while Sal and Tyr sat across from the thane. She guessed it was too much to ask that she be introduced around the table. There were just a variety of nods sent her way.

Despite the fact that they all looked so different, blonds, brunettes and a few cornrows, they were all the same in the fact that they all bore scars. Some were in the skin, others seemed more deeply buried, like Tyr’s.

It was weird to see so many people with tiny vials of HeartsBlood around their necks. It was like seeing Tyr in double vision. Now so much made sense to her. Seeing a table full of DeadBloods, Tyr’s actions made so much more sense. Sal could tell that each one of them would have done the same to her under the same situation.

It was weird being the odd man out. She would lose her argument with each one of them. These were Tyr’s peeps. They would have his back.

What was her heart against the beast? Each one would choose to pursue the beast and break her heart.

Did that make it any easier to accept?

In a strange way, it did.

Tyr didn’t really make a decision. The decision was made for him by his upbringing and his life’s mission. Sal’s feelings had never really been entered into the equation. He needed a broken heart and hers was the closest.

End of story.

Only it hadn’t been for her. It had felt like it was, but then she had to go on living. Wondering if she’d ever see him again. If she could ever trust him.

She could trust him. To be a DeadBlood. To always be a DeadBlood. Nothing more, no matter how much she wished he could change.

Pulling her out of her melancholy reverie, a bell rang out. Did this signal the entertainment starting? It seemed too soon for the King and Queen to retire.

Tyr straightened though, his hand going to the hilt of his sword. The other DeadBloods shifted as well, as the bell clanged again. Then there was a shrill horn, then a gong.

“We are under attack,” Tyr whispered, rising so quickly he nearly kicked the bench Sal was sitting on.

As every medieval alarm rang out, the rest of the guests realized this wasn’t part of the celebration. Unfortunately they then started panicking, knocking each other over and climbing over the tables.

Tyr turned to the table. “Get the guests to safety then meet me up on the wall.”

Not a single DeadBlood questioned Tyr or his authority. They simply rose and rushed to do their job.

She expected Tyr to run after them, but instead he turned to her, suddenly taking her into his arms. “This could be the end. For all of us.”

As screams from outside the hall rang in her ear, she knew that he wasn’t exaggerating.

“My only regret is you,” Tyr said, then pulled her in. His leather vest crushed up against her velvet dress. “I want to regret no more.”

He pressed his lips against hers. She tried to resist. She really did, but in the end she just couldn’t. Sal melted into his embrace. His lips spread hers as his arm wrapped around her waist until there was no space between them.

She wanted to yield to him right then and there, but then the moment was over. He pulled away. “I must fight.”

Because he was a DeadBlood. Of course he must fight.

“Come, Alex,” Dyn said, urging him to the royal table.

Tyr gave her a kiss on the forehead before he followed.

Was that the last she would ever see of him?

CHAPTER 22

Tyr met his first beast upon the steps that led to the wall. He held neither thoughts of capture, nor redemption for the beast. Not as its five inch claws glistened in the moonlight.

His only thought was of Salista, her lips against his. His duty was no longer theoretical. He no longer fought for the cause. He fought to keep Salista safe. He fought for his small, cobbled together family. Dyn, Salista, and now Alex.

The jaguar beast leapt from the wall, trying to surprise Tyr with its ferocity. But Tyr was no scared castle guard. He was DeadBlood.

Tyr arced his blade up and over, matching the jaguar’s leap. The beast fell upon Tyr’s sword before it could even try to change its trajectory. With a moist groan the beast sank itself hilt-deep onto his blade. Tyr had to put a foot to the beast to shove its dead body from his sword. Just in time as another, pony-looking beast attacked.

This time, Tyr used a side swiping motion, cutting the beast down its entire side. The pony screamed in pain, hurling itself off the wall, landing with a sickening splat.

With a moment of respite, Tyr looked up and down the wall. Other DeadBloods were already there, keeping the castle from being overrun.

The beasts had done the impossible. They had somehow snuck in past the outer gate, made their way through the village within the wall to attack the castle itself.

The chilling realization spread through Tyr’s body.

The beasts had help. Help from inside the castle.

They were not fighting those from without, but those from within. Which not just doubled their efforts, but tripled them.

He could think of none of this as an eagle beast swooped in from high above. Tyr couldn’t turn fast enough. With luck, his thane was at his side, thrusting his sword upward, skewering the beast through the breastbone.

Impaled, the eagle flapped his wings furiously, trying to back off the sword. Tyr would not allow that to happen.

He took his sword and used it as a machete, hacking at the beast’s wings. It screamed, nearly splitting his ears, but he kept on.

Finally the beast flopped to the stone and Dyn was able to finish it.

Tyr looked out over the horizon, lit by a nearly full moon. There were dozens of other flying beasts, more than he had seen in his entire life. More terrestrial beasts were attempting to scale the wall. Ape-like creatures were doing their best, but as screams rose from inside the castle it became clear that some had already snuck into the castle.

“Go,” Dyn said. “Get the King and Queen to safety.”

Tyr would like to argue, but he could not find his tongue. If Vitalis’s entire purpose here was to unbalance the kingdom, then killing the King and Queen would be his priority. The royals had over a dozen guards and another six DeadBlood to protect them, but Dyn was right. Only he knew Vitalis.

“Alex and I will hold the wall,” Dyn said, however Alex didn’t look quite as confident.

It would have to be enough, though.

Tyr turned and ran down the length of the wall, hacking and swinging at anything that attacked. He was covered in dark beast’s blood by the time he hit the door.

The banquet hall was chaos itself. He could barely make out beast from man, but the King and Queen and, even more importantly, Salista were nowhere to be found.

* * *

Salista gripped Alyssa’s hand as they ran down the hallway. They were with the King and Queen. Guards ran in front of them clearing the way. There was a DeadBlood, Kia, a fiery redhead with her hair shorn to the scalp, with them. The rest of the DeadBloods followed behind.

They had gotten out of the banquet room as soon as humanly possible.

A roar came from ahead of them. Of course the beasts would try to block their path to the royal chambers, which Salista was assured were as heavily fortified as the castle itself.

In the time, it would have been called a safe room.

But it did not look like they would be reaching it any time soon.

The beast in front of them was a huge Siberian tiger. So huge in fact that his bulk took up most of the passageway.

Kia let out a war cry that seemed to warble a little as she rushed forward, her sword held high. Its blade glowed an unnatural white. It must have been anointed with fear blood. The only problem was that the tiger’s reach was longer than her sword so he easily rebuffed the attack, knocking Kia and her sword, hard against the wall.

Some of the soldiers had bows and arrows, although they did not glow. They should have been anointed before they reached the fight. Sal was so used to Tyr thinking of these things that she didn’t.

But even if she had, would anyone have listened to her? To them, she was just the chick that curtsied weird.

Roars came from behind them. Another five beasts approached from the rear. They were trapped in this hallway. There weren’t any doors for about twenty feet. Which wasn’t all that far, except when there were nearly half a dozen beasts between them.

More roars from ahead. Two other large, strapping beasts filled the forward hallway. One was a large stallion. The other seemed to be a saber toothed tiger.

Where the hell had that come from?

The only thing that was clear was that Vitalis had sent the big guns after the King and Queen. Sal wasn’t all that familiar with this world, but it was pretty clear there weren’t this many “mature” beasts. Most were in various stages of descent and therefore strength.

And they were well armed. Each of them had dozens of vials of intent blood braided into their hair. They were masters of the blood. And, you know, had sharp claws or hooves.

The archers took their volleys, but the arrows bounced right off the tough hide of the Siberian tiger. It snarled back at them, taking a swipe at Kia as she tried to right herself.

This was not going to last long.

She could only hope that Alex was faring better.

* * *

Alex flailed his arms, trying not to panic. Although he was pretty sure that ship had sailed. A huge pterodactyl had snatched him off the wall and was now trying to carry him away.

Dyn had hold of his boot or the damned winged dinosaur would have taken off with him already.

“Your sword!” Dyn reminded him.

Oh yah, he was armed.

He had to stop panicking. He was DeadBlood after all. And his leathers are what were saving him right now from the sharp talons of the pterodactyl. Alex stopped flailing and found the sword at his waist. It glowed a brilliant white as he pulled it from its sheath.

Alex swung the sword, striking the pterodactyl’s outer toe. It sheered clean off. The beast screamed, digging in harder with its other talons. Alex didn’t stop though, he hacked off another toe.

The pterodactyl flapped its wings violently, trying to pry Alex away from Dyn’s steel grip.

Then a third toe was off and the beast lost one foothold. Alex was dangling by one shoulder. Okay, so it didn’t look as heroic as Dyn’s attacks, but it was getting the job done.

The huge dinosaur bird tried to peck at him, but couldn’t keep the height and attack at the same time.

Alex raised his sword, put it up against the other foot. He looked into the beast’s eyes. He saw the pupil dilate and a decision be made.

“Watch out!” Alex yelled as the beast let him go.

Dyn was there, making sure Alex fell to the stone floor rather than over the side.

They rolled on the hard surface. Alex thought he was more damaged by the fall then the pterodactyl abduction attempt.

Dyn rose first, dusting himself off, but not so distracted that he didn’t run his sword through a large ferret beast that tried to sneak up on him.

“Above you!” Alex shouted as a human sized parakeet came at them.

Beasts were so weird.

Dyn easily fought this one off.

For a brief moment, then section of the wall was free of beasts. No hissing, snarling, or singing.

Of course that didn’t last long as Dyn moved them out to fight a large hyena beast that was accompanied by a hawk. The men were getting slaughtered. There wasn’t another DeadBlood in sight.

Not for long, though.

* * *

Sal could feel the end near. Nearly all of the human guards were dead. Kia was injured and only two of the rear DeadBloods were still standing and barely at that.

They had only minorly injured the beasts. They seemed to be just waiting through attrition to take down the party. Why risk a full out attack when you could just pick them off one by one?

Suddenly a jackal beast jumped over the defense line and headed straight for Sal.

“Get down!” the Queen screamed as she threw her body over Sal.

Sal waited for the screams. The jackal should have been ripping the Queen to shreds with his claws and teeth. But none came. Sal scrambled out from under the Queen’s elaborate dress to find the Jackal backed away, shaking its paw, trying to limp on it.

What had just happened?

Then she saw it. The Queen’s gown didn’t glow from jewels, but from intent. It was woven into the fabric. The jackal got over his shock and now looked massively pissed, and there wasn’t a DeadBlood in sight.

Then Haviana, Tyr’s older sister, pulled out a cross bow, its arrows glowing with intent, and fired. The first bolt hit the jackal in the shoulder. It screamed, baying for its pack to help him. But none came.

The second bolt hit the jackal in the chest. He fell over, gasped, then went silent. Haviana didn’t take any chances though and shot him again in the head.

Sal was glad to see that Tyr’s relatives were just as kick ass as he was.

The beast’s roared their anger. Attacking from both sides. Sal and the rest of the royal party were packed together. Their bodies crushed against one another.

The King swung an intent anointed blade, Slicing off the mane of one of the lion beasts. He’d given him a close shave, down to his very human cheek. It was so disconcerting to see the human beneath the beast.

The King was knocked back as the Saber Tooth tiger took a swipe. It missed the King, but Alyssa screamed next to Sal and slumped to the floor. Sal knelt beside her as the girl’s beige dress was drenched in red.

“How injured are you?” Sal asked.

The girl grinned. “Not bad.”

Not good. That was the look of someone who had gone into severe cardiovascular shock. The body spared the brain all the details and released some endorphins to cover the pain.

Because Alyssa should be feeling a lot of pain. The beast had severed the femoral artery.

Sal only had the leeching solution. She didn’t think to bring artificial HeartsBlood to the banquet, how silly of her. Putting pressure as best she could, Sal tried to think how, while being caught between two packs of beasts, she was going to tie off the femoral artery. She had thread aplenty. Perhaps she could have the Queen rip strips of cloth to use as gauze squares to clear the field of blood while she tried to… impossible.

Then the Queen pulled out a vial of blood from around her neck. “Here, allow me.”

What the hell was the Queen doing with HeartsBlood? Then again Haviana’s cross bow had been anointed, so clearly they were slightly more prepared for the assault than Sal had been.

“No, allow me,” Sal said, taking the vial.

“But that is --”

“HeartsBlood, yes, I know,” Sal replied. “And Tyr says that I am a witch who is an expert at welding it, so please allow me.”

The Queen nodded, allowing Sal to do her work. Sal ripped Alyssa’s dress to reveal the wound. It was long and cut down the artery, which was the worst kind of injury. Sal doubted if she could have fixed it in time, even if she’d been in a surgery room.

Instead she let out one drop of the HeartsBlood at the top of the wound.

She then murmured her instructions over it.

Sal demanded that it seal the wound, stop the blood from exiting the artery. She called platelets to the area. This was in their wheelhouse, then fibrin, then white cells.

Each obeyed and the bleeding went down to an ooze. Sal took one more drop and placed it at the end of the five-inch laceration. Now the wound was healing from both ends.

“Remarkable,” the Queen breathed over Sal’s shoulder. “Only two drops for such a mortal wound.”

Sal was about to ask her where the HeartsBlood had come from when the beasts roared again. She realized they were down to a downed Kia in front and no DeadBloods in the back.

This was it. Not even the brave king and his anointed blade could keep them safe.

Then a war cry came from down the hall. This was a proper war cry, filled with anger and vengeance. She knew that cry.

Tyr.

There was no warbling. No hesitation.

Sure it was now seven beasts to Tyr’s one sword.

Sal kind of liked her odds.

CHAPTER 23

Tyr did not care how many beasts there were. He did not even truly care that the King and Queen were in danger. He cared only that Salista’s fear beat upon him.

His sword was triply anointed. His leathers were drenching in intent to keep him from harm. His muscles were fueled by intent. He had broken nearly every vial he had on the run from the wall to here.

There was no point in holding back. This was the defining moment of the battle. Whether or not they held the castle or lost it, the heart of the battle was here.

With another cry, Tyr plunged into the thick of the fight. He severed a head. It bounced twice then rolled to a stop. A beast brushed past him. Tyr scraped his sword along its side as it attempted to flee. Best to give it a reason not to return. It howled its displeasure, but kept running.

Tyr turned to find a saber tooth tiger, its jaws impossibly wide open, charging toward him. He dropped to one knee, bracing his sword, so when the beast leapt, it did so on the point of his sword.

The beast’s fangs were long though, and despite being impaled, Tyr narrowly avoided being chomped. Then the beast went limp. Tyr shoved it from his sword as a horse-like beast, its hooves struck the air, hurling toward Tyr. It was like an evil version of Hunter.

It pained him to strike even a beast that looked like a horse, but this was no noble steed. This was a beast, through and through.

Tyr was well aware of a horse’s weakest points. Its legs. Tyr drew his sword across the back of the beast’s leg, just above the hoof. He severed the tender ligaments, dropping the beast instantly. From there Tyr cut the beast’s throat. Hot, black blood gushed all over the grey stone.

He turned on his heel to see a Siberian Tiger run away down the hallway. The only two beasts left were a black bear and a lioness. Tyr charged one step forward, shouting his desire to see them both dead.

The black bear turned tail and lumbered away down the hall.

The lioness, though, thrashed her tail, growling.

* * *

Sal helped Alyssa to her feet as Tyr squared off against the lioness. It did not seem like a fair fight at all. Not with Tyr’s broad shoulders braced, ready for battle. Which was just fine by Sal.

“Son,” the King called out, but Tyr did not turn around.

“Tyr!” Sal called out.

He turned as the King threw him his sword. Tyr caught it, weighing it in his hand. Then a slow smile spread across his lips.

Sal looked to the Queen. “The Blade is the Beast Slayer. A blade forged in intent.”

Ah, that’s why it glowed so brightly.

Now with two swords, Tyr faced the beast. Her confidence seemed to wane as her eyes pulled back until they were pinned to the back of her head. She seemed to be weighing her duty to attack versus the fact she was going to die. And her attack in the end would not bring about the King and Queen’s death.

With one more snarl, she turned and ran off as well.

The survivors breathed out an audible sigh of relief.

“The King and Queen” Tyr asked, clearly anxious. Sal ran up as he parted his swords for her to enter his embrace.

“They are safe,” Sal said. “The DeadBloods though…”

Tyr sheathed his sword and returned the Slayer to the King as he knelt down by the nearest DeadBlood. He was dead. As were the rest in the back. Finally he made his way to Kia. She barely still breathed.

He pulled out his vial of HeartsBlood.

“No,” Kia croaked. “I am too far gone, I can’t use your HeartsBlood.”

Tyr handed the vial over to Sal. “There is enough, warrior.”

Actually Tyr’s vial was filled with her solution. Sal used it upon the DeadBlood’s multiple wounds. Despite how badly Kia was injured, it only took four drops.

Kia sat up, extending her arm, feeling the wounds that had nearly breached her ribcage. “What is this witchcraft?”

Tyr smiled. “The most potent of all.”

* * *

Alex’s arms were tired. Like crazy tired. Like he could hardly hold up his sword, but since the place was still swarming with beasts, he kept his sword up.

Beasts were piled up around Dyn. He’d slayed more than his fair share.

Apparently Alex was more of a piece of bait, dangling on the hook. The beasts thought Alex an easy mark up upon the high wall and attacked, only to have Dyn come from the shadows and slay them.

His arm shook as he waited. It had been nearly a minute since the last attack. Which was the longest by far. Usually some stupid parrot or something would bomb out of the sky at him. Or a freaky chimp-thing would bound over the wall to try and take a piece out of him.

But nothing. Alex looked down the gangway. Most of the soldiers were dead, but a few still stood and, for the moment, unmolested.

“Is it over?” Alex asked.

Dyn shook his head. “Not by far.”

“Then why aren’t they attacking?”

“Because they are regrouping,” Dyn explained.

“For what?”

“A final assault,” Dyn stated.

Alex looked out at the village. It was ablaze. Humans and beasts lay dead in the streets. The castle itself was also on fire, but for the most part it was made of stone so it wasn’t going anywhere too soon.

“Where?”

Dyn turned, looking up. The highest window in the castle was awash with light. “There,” Dyn said.

“What’s up there?”

“The royal suite,” Dyn answered.

Holy crap. “How are they going to get up there?”

Dyn charged past Alex, answering on the way. “They aren’t because they are already there. Hurry!”

* * *

Sal ran, tripping and stumbling over her dress. Full regalia was not exactly the right look during a crisis. And Tyr was setting a fearsome pace, trying to get them back to the royal chambers before they encountered another pride of fully descended beasts.

Alyssa ran next to her, looking solid on the injured leg that nearly killed her. Kia was at the back, guarding their flank as they made the last turn before they hit the suite.

How did Sal know they were there? Oh, probably by the gilded double doors at the end of the hallway. Four guards stood on either side. They opened the doors as they ran so they hit the room at a run.

Tyr though skid to a stop, trying to turn around at the same time. “Don’t close those doors!” he shouted, but it was too late. The guards, being hyper efficient had already not only closed the doors, but they could hear the bars going down. They were trapped inside the suite.

Which wouldn’t have been a bad thing, but even Sal could smell the beasts. One in particular. Vitalis. A red glow came from one of the bedrooms.

Vitalis stepped out into the sitting room, an arm dangling from his mouth. From its size and fair skin, Sal guessed it was one of the Queen’s chambermaids. The beast spit out the limb, licking his lips.

He seemed ready for more.

Another four beasts stepped out behind him.

It was five beasts against Tyr and Kia. And Sal hated to admit it, girl power and all, but Kia looked more than a little shaken. The King seemed ready to rumble, as did Tyr’s older sister and his mother.

But this was Vitalis. Sal had seen Tyr fight him on more than one occasion and he’d nearly not survived each time. The beast was vicious and a great wielder of intent.

“Son, why?” the King asked.

“Why?” the beast slurred through a lion’s mouth. “You need ask why?”

No, probably not.

They all knew why. Tyr. His DeadBlood had doomed Vitalis to a loveless life. Never to inherit the crown.

Boo hoo, Sal thought. One of those made-up problems of the rich. They placed such emphasis on status because they didn’t have to worry about their survival. They could obsess on feuds and wars because they didn’t have to fear any other strife.

Tyr raised his sword. “It no longer matters the why. It matters how it shall end.”

That was the DeadBlood, always to the point.

Despite the thick stone walls around them, they could still hear the screams from outside. Long, horrific screams, usually cut off midway. Sal could feel Alyssa’s hand shaking in hers.

Without warning a crossbow bolt flew through the air. It was anointed, glowing a brilliant white as it sailed through the air. Vitalis easily, almost casually knocked it from the air.

“Sister, is this how I am to be treated?” Vitalis challenged.

Haviana armed her bow again so Sal guessed that, yes that was exactly how he was to be treated.

“There is still a way,” the Queen begged. “Tyr has brought back a solution that can pull the corruption from you. Revert you to human.”

It was odd to see a lion smile a fierce smile. “Ah, yes, I know of it.”

On a twitch of his tail, the woman emerged from the bedroom. She was still human, but obviously still an accomplice.

Tyr glanced over to Sal. The expression clear. “I told you so.”

Finnia must have helped gain the beasts entry into the castle and even this chamber.

Bitch.

And after everything Sal had done for her and her baby. Ungrateful, just ungrateful.

“What is your end game?” Sal asked. Everyone kind of looked at her like she was crazy. Well, sometimes being obvious worked. Bad guys liked to spout off about their brilliance. It couldn’t hurt to ask, right?

“The destruction of all that has held us back,” the woman answered. She was a heck of a lot easier to understand than Vitalis.

“You mean the world?” Sal asked.

The woman waivered a bit. “Yes,” although she didn’t sound too sure.

“So this is your death and all beasts’ deaths?” Sal asked to clarify. Sometimes she swore people just didn’t think things through. She may be 500 years in the future and with a pride of beasts, but they were acting like street thugs back in the City.

“It is a cleansing fire,” the woman hissed seeming back on her game.

“Cleaning what?” Sal demanded. “Leaving what behind?”

Again the woman didn’t seem quite so sure of herself if they went off Vitalis’ apocalyptic script.

“All I know is that all of you shall die,” the woman said, sounding a bit mad herself.

* * *

The time for this prattle was over. Tyr took a step forward. “Enough. Let us end this.”

Vitalis’ tail swished behind him as a snarl came to his lip. The others behind him reacted equally aggressively. There was a lioness, hissing. A cheetah swiping his claws forward. A grizzly bear that stood up on his hind legs, growling at them and, lastly, an ostrich. Which might have seemed not so threatening, except Tyr had fought one before and they were fierce. They could kick and scrape with an unnatural force and that beak could take out an eye.

“I have Vitalis,” Tyr stated to Kia. “You have the rest.”

While she nodded, Tyr could see her blade waver. Near death could sap the confidence out of even the fiercest DeadBlood.

“Just hold them off long enough for me to take down Vitalis.”

Kia gave a sharp nod and raised her sword higher.

Tyr leaned into his sister, whispering, “Cover her the best you can.”

Haviana gave a terse nod.

He looked lastly to Salista. “Do not use intent, no matter how you are tested.”

She grinned, grabbing his wrist, giving it a squeeze.

Tyr turned back to Vitalis. The beast may be his brother, but he was not his family.

“Die!” Tyr shouted, rushing forward taking a bold swing. He struck true, but his blade bounced off Vitalis’ intent protected hide. So that was how it was going to be.

Tyr grabbed an axe from the wall, smashing a vial upon it. It glowed a cool blue. With two hands, Tyr came down on Vitalis’s head. The beast moved at the last second but Tyr was gratified that he blade caught Vitalis on the flank, slicing through his skin. Black blood splattered all over the woven rug.

Vitalis roared his frustration, swinging around, swiping at Tyr with his huge claws. Tyr threw himself backward, narrowly being missed. He hefted up the axe again, but Vitalis jumped up atop the long mantle, avoiding his blow.

Gripping the axe, Tyr came at his brother again.

* * *

Sal pulled Alyssa under a reading table, trying to stay out of the main battle. The King and Kia were taking on the grizzly as Haviana was shooting at the cheetah and lioness. The “thwack, thwack, thwack” of her crossbow filled the room. The ostrich had the Queen cornered near the window.

Tyr’s axe came down, clanging against the stone mantelpiece. The beast leapt over him, landing behind Tyr, raking down his back. His leather must have been intent reinforced, because the blow left only minor scratches down the DeadBlood’s back.

Sal watched as the battle played out. Strikes and counter strikes. A dance of death flowed around the room. How could she help? She couldn’t use intent or risk descent. And since the solution was still largely unproven, she couldn’t risk that the next time she descended, it wouldn’t be permanent.

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Finnia sneaking around behind Tyr, a knife in her hand.

Sal scrambled out from under the table, grabbed one of the shields on the wall, and leapt.

She landed just in time as the woman thrust forward trying to stab Tyr in the back. Literally. The blow knocked Sal back, but at the least she saved Tyr.

A growl warned her that the lioness had turned her attention on Sal. She spun around, trying to get the shield out in front of her, but the lioness was too quick. Alyssa though, holding a short sword in both hands, stabbed, hitting the lioness in the shoulder. It roared its pain, spinning on the girl, but the Queen was there, her white blade high above. The royal sword came down straight between the shoulder blades, as Tyr would have done.

The Queen didn’t even wait until the beast groaned its last breath before spinning around, helping Kia with the grizzly.

The sounds of battle rang through the sitting room. Fine furniture was destroyed, lives were lost. Kia screamed as the grizzly raked her across the chest, then bit deep into her neck.

The Queen was there, driving her sword right under the bear’s armpit, striking into the chest. When she released her blade, it beat too and fro. The sword must have struck the bear directly in the heart.

Once the Queen pulled out the blade, the grizzly slumped over dead. But not before mortally wounding Kia.

Sal dropped to all fours and with Alyssa’s help, dragged Kia back under the table.

The DeadBlood’s eyes fluttered open for a moment as she tried to focus on Alyssa. “You are… you are…”

“Shh,” Sal encouraged, forcing Kia back down into a reclining position, which wasn’t hard because the DeadBlood was losing blood by the pints.

So pumped up on adrenaline when Sal uncapped the artificial HeartsBlood, she accidently split two drops onto the neck wound rather than one. Sal didn’t have time to cry over spilt HeartsBlood. Besides it was twice the healing.

Within moments the gaping wound, the one that had torn through Kia’s jugular, was just an oozing divot. Sal moved onto the chest wounds. Each one closed under a drop.

Kia took in a huge breath, looking shocked that she was alive, let alone whole.

She flexed her sword hand, sitting up.

“You truly are an amazing witch,” the DeadBlood said as she crawled out from under the table. Somehow her nearly dying a second time but then saved by the artificial HeartsBlood seemed to give her a boost of confidence, like if I could survive that, I can survive anything.

Kia fought with vigor, taking on the cheetah, which she quickly dispatched.

All that was left was Vitalis. The entire group could turn their attention to him, aiding Tyr.

They circled the large beast, but Vitalis was not without his own tricks. He used his claw to grab a vial from his mane and smashed it against his head. Then he reared back and gave a roar.

Everyone was thrown back. The King’s head cracked loudly against the stone wall. The Queen lay in a heap on the floor. Haviana was still up but blood ran freely from her nose. She seemed dazed, wobbling as if she were going to fall over at any moment.

Tyr had been knocked down to all fours. He shook his head, side to side, spraying blood from his ears.

Vitalis took advantage of everyone’s shock and leapt straight at Tyr. Without even his sword up, Tyr had no defense, and he was way too far away for Sal to help.

But the window crashed as Dyn swung in from outside. He knocked Vitalis off course, driving a blade into his belly.

* * *

Alex stood on the ledge of the tower, looking over at the royal suite. Dyn had made it in, but could he? There were roars and screams all mixed together coming from behind the shattered glass.

Sucking in a deep breath, Alex closed his eyes, tightened his grip on the rope and pushed off. Cringing, he hit the window, shattering even more glass. He fell to the floor, which was luckily covered in the thickest rug he’d ever felt.

“Get down!” Salista shouted. Alex obliged, flattening himself to the floor. The beast roared, spraying out flames.

The King was singed, his entire side, aflame. The Queen ripped down a tapestry and wrapped her husband in it. Haviana was running, the hem of her dress on fire. Kia’s face was nearly, completely blackened.

And this didn’t seem to be the worst of it. There were beast’s bodies dotted around the room. You could barely step without squishing into one.

Salista was up, dashing across the room. He didn’t know why until he found Tyr, throwing himself against the wall, trying to put out the fire on his back.

Alex crawled over to join Alyssa under the table. He didn’t know what to do except stay out of the way at this point. Dyn was the only one not on fire, but he dove so far away, he couldn’t reach the beast. Who Alex just noticed had a sword sticking out his side.

The beast grabbed something off a shelf with his teeth. It was a box wrapped in velvet. As he pulled the cover off, Alex recognized the radiation symbol.

“He’s got it!” Alex shouted.

* * *

Got what? Sal thought until she saw the international symbol for radiation. So the beast had gotten at least a small amount of the spark of the atom he had been searching for. She could only hope the box was shielded, otherwise they were all going down with radiation poisoning.

He broke a vial over the box and it glowed a dangerous orange. He smashed another vial behind him. A huge red vortex opened.

So this was his plan? Destroy his present world, hide back in time, then what? Come back to a future after the destruction of his former kingdom?

Suddenly Sal felt a tug. The vortex was ramping up, sucking her toward it.

Tyr grabbed her hands, bracing his feet, trying to keep her from following Vitalis as he leapt into the portal.

But her hands were slick with blood, as were his.

They couldn’t hold. Inch by inch she slipped from his grip.

“Tyr,” she cried out, knowing that there was nothing that he could do.

“Salista!” he called back even as her fingers slid from his palm.

* * *

“No,” Tyr screamed as Salista was sucked through the air, forced into the portal and then disappeared into the red glow.

“The box!” Dyn yelled. “Throw it!”

At first Tyr did not understand what his thane wanted, then he realized the orange glow was expanding, growing, getting ready to rupture. And his thane wished for him to throw the box into the portal. The very portal in which Salista had just entered.

There were no other options though. If the box exploded the entire kingdom would be doomed. What was that against one life? Even Salista’s?

Tyr used his sword to get under the small box and flip it up. The vortex did the rest. It sucked the box in, swallowing the orange with the red.

An explosion rocked the suite. Paintings fell off the walls. Thick stone cracked, leaving the night sky visible.

Then there was nothing. No box. No vortex. No Salista.

What had he done?

EPILOGUE

Sal landed hard on the pavement. Hard like every bone in her body was rattled. She could tell already that they had traveled back in time. She could taste the exhaust in the air. Her ears were still ringing from the explosion.

Plus the everyday sounds of a large metropolitan area threatened to split her ears. After only a few days in Tyr’s time, she already found the City noise annoying.

A car honked loudly, making Sal realized that she had been unceremoniously dumped in the street. She had to get to Lionel as soon as possible.

She rolled out of the way, surely looking like a drunken vagrant. Dusting herself off, she stepped onto the sidewalk. She checked to make sure she still had her laptop bag. He was going to come in handy now. Glancing around, she realized she must be in the Haight-Ashbury district. Men walked around in short shorts and cut off tops. Although there were a surprising number of handle bar mustaches.

What was up with that? And a ton of tie-dye. Like Maytag went on a bender and tie-dyed everyone’s clothes. Plus the peace symbols. They were everywhere. On people’s T-shirts, spray painted on the sidewalk and tagged on the street signs.

Did she miss some scheduled Free Love parade?

Then she noticed the cars. They were all huge. Pontiacs, Caddies and Fords. All boats. All gas guzzlers. Too many to be just a car show. Then she saw the billboard.

“Gone but not forgotten,” with a picture of JFK to one side and Lyndon Johnson on the other.

Crap.

It wasn’t 2013.

The explosion must have knocked the vortex off.

She was in 1967.

Crap.

And she wasn’t even born yet.

BLOOD LINES – the bridge short story between DeadBlood and LiveBlood

CHAPTER 1

Tyr sank to his knees, murmuring, “What have I done?”

Alex rushed forward to where the vortex had been not a few seconds ago and probed the settee’s cushions with his sword, as if his sister could have been hiding within them.

First, he had broken Salista’s heart and now Tyr had killed her. Or worse, doomed her to die of radiation poisoning. For all his attempts otherwise, he’d lost Salista.

Dyn patted him on the back. “You did what you must.”

One life versus the entire Kingdom. When you did the mathematics, it made sense. However, the events still made no sense to Tyr’s heart.

“How could you?” Alex screamed, beating Tyr on the chest with his fists. “How could you?”

Tyr did not know. He didn’t bother trying to defend himself. He wished his heart would stop beating so that the searing pain might stop. Even though everyone else was bustling about, Tyr could not find the will to move a single muscle. He could tell that people were talking around him, yet he couldn’t understand a word.

It was all meaningless.

Then he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. A woman trying to sneak away.

“Finnia!” he shouted, grabbing the traitor by the neck. He slammed her against the wall. The woman’s face blotched. “You, witch, are going to die.”

But the Queen raced over, tugging on Tyr’s sleeve trying to get him to let go. “Stop.”

“Why should I?” Tyr growled. “She let them in. All of this, all of this destruction, is because of her.”

“I know,” the Queen said, “But she carries our only grandchild.”

Tyr tore his eyes from the witch to look at the Queen. “That is no child. Sired by a beast and mothered by a traitorous whore? That is a monster growing inside her belly.”

“We do not know that,” Dyn said, also grabbing his wrists.

“I get it,” Alex said. “I want revenge as much as you do, but the baby inside of her is a baby, Tyr, not a monster.”

Why could no one see what he did? This witch was as much a beast now as she was when she had fur. Alex was new to his leathers. The Queen was naïve. And Dyn? Well, Dyn had been trying to find a way to revert beasts for decades. Tyr had always tolerated it since, well, it was never going to happen. Dyn had a blind spot when it came to this subject.

“The witch dies,” Tyr said through gritted teeth. “Now.”

He tightened his grip. There was no way anyone could keep him from finishing this task.

“The child is DeadBlood,” the Queen stated. “Can you not feel it?”

Tyr’s grip loosened a bit. That could not be. Could it?

His other hand went to Finnia’s belly. She struggled, trying to keep him away, but she was a witch, weak. Finnia was LiveBlood so it was hard to detect, but there was the minor deficiency around her womb. The babe must have been a pure DeadBlood to be able to be detected externally. No wonder Alex had been able to leach the corruption from the child. His body had never wanted it in the first place.

Tyr released the woman, dropping her unceremoniously on the floor. No matter how he felt about the witch mother, Tyr could not kill another DeadBlood, even if the child ultimately posed a risk. How could a child come out good with such parents and being corrupted in the womb?

“Thank you,” the Queen said as she sank to the floor, her beautiful gown stained in bright red blood and smeared with black blood, as well. She had fought well. Valiantly, even.

But how had she known the child was DeadBlood? Had Dyn told her such?

Before he could ponder it further, the doors burst open and a dozen guards rushed in. Just a tad late. They scurried about the room, removing the beasts’ bodies from the Royal chamber.

The rest of the occupants were rushed off to get “cleaned up,” but could you really clean off the events of this evening? You might get the blood out, but the stain? Never.

Tyr looked out the window onto the courtyard. The beasts had been repulsed, but at what cost? Women lay draped over their loved ones, wailing, screaming their grief. DeadBloods lay in the street unattended. No one to care for them. The Crown, of course, would give them a proper funeral, but there was no one to cry for them now.

Not even Tyr could stir a tear. They had died nobly. That should have been enough, should it not? Yet in his heart it no longer felt that way.

“We must follow,” Dyn stated as if it were a little thing. “Hurry, conjure a vortex.”

“I do not know how,” Tyr said. “And for what purpose? They are both dead.”

“We do not know that,” Dyn said emphatically.

But that was Dyn. Always the optimist. Always thinking people were better than they were. Always thinking the best of any situation.

“Aye, we do,” Tyr said. He’d seen the destructive power of the radiation. And that had just been from inert radiation. A radioactive bomb? He could not imagine the damage that could do.

“We must try. See for ourselves,” Dyn encouraged.

Tyr walked away from his thane, not even having enough energy to argue with him right now. He found a torn piece of Salista’s velvet dress. He put it up to his nose, inhaling deeply.

Why had he realized his feelings so late? Why had he not been able to commit to her sooner?

He looked to Alex, sitting on a step, openly weeping. Did he not know how to behave as a DeadBlood?

No, he did not, and perhaps that was best. Did Salista not deserve to be grieved? Did she not deserve all of their tears?

Dyn urged Alex to rise, “Child, do not cry so until you have a body to cry over.”

Hollow words to Tyr.

Alex too, didn’t seem convinced. “She’s dead, Dyn, dead. Everyone I love is dead.”

* * *

Dyn tried to pull Alex to his feet, but he refused. He wasn’t going anywhere. Ever. This was it. He’d had too much loss in his life. How could he move on without Salista? She had been his rock his entire life. He’d gone adrift once she left home, and now? To be in a foreign land? Expected to be some kind of warrior?

No way. No how.

“Do not despair,” Dyn said, still trying to get him up.

Why not? What else was there left to do?

“The two of you, seriously,” Dyn stated, taking a step back. “The vortex can move people through time and space, yet you don’t believe that it can protect both Salista and the beast from an explosion?”

Alex hung his head. These people had never seen what an atom bomb could do. Alex could still remember the horror of the Hiroshima pictures. People reduced to ash. The imprint of their bodies impregnated in concrete. Shadow people they were called.

And the level of residual radiation? If Salista hadn’t been killed in the initial blast, the radiation would have done her in.

“I have never seen two sorrier DeadBloods in my life,” Dyn complained. “We must believe that your sister is hale and hearty and that the beast is still on the move.”

Alex did not have to believe that one little bit. He’d seen it. He’d seen the flash of orange in the center of the red.

His head snapped up. What a minute. He’d seen the explosion. It had been a blinding flash of white, then the typical mushroom cloud.

He’d seen it deep within the portal, but he couldn’t see Salista or the beast. Plus he’d seen it. He ran his hands up and down his face and arms. Not a single lesion. No evidence of radiation exposure.

“Tyr, Dyn may be right.”

The DeadBlood was looking out the window and did not turn around.

“No, I’m serious,” Alex said. Dyn seemed very interested, stepping closer to Alex as he explained. “I saw the explosion, yet it did not billow out of the vortex and we don’t have any signs of radiation poisoning.

“Yes, yes,” Dyn said. “Should we not have been destroyed?”

“Ya,” Alex agreed. “I think that the vortex did shield us.”

Tyr finally turned around, tears streaking his face. “Be we were not inside the vortex.”

“But how do we know that Salista and Vitalis still were?” Alex questioned. “Think about the vortex and how I suppose it would work. Each inch along the vortex must represent a different time. So if Salista and the beast were even a few inches down the vortex, they were in a completely different time which wouldn’t have been affected by the bomb.”

Dyn nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, yes, Alex has given words to what my heart feels.”

* * *

Tyr shook his head. Alex had every reason to cling to the impossible. He needed his sister to be alive. And well, Dyn was Dyn, not wishing to let go of a shred of hope.

“She is gone,” Tyr stated. “The sooner we accept that, the sooner we can move on.”

“To what?” Alex challenged. “A barren, soulless life? Um, no thank you. I say if there is any chance that she might still be alive, we explore it.”

Dyn’s head nodded up and down as if he were a puppet on someone else’s strings.

Tyr’s heart could not take in hope then have it crushed.

“Then you two had best hurry.”

“But you are the only one who knows how to create a vortex,” Dyn stated.

“Ah, see you are already going to be disappointed. I only know how to create one to go forward. I have always ridden Vitalis’s back.”

“That is a small thing,” Dyn said. “Going back is the easier path.”

“I do not know the combination of blood that is needed,” Tyr admitted, almost thankful that he did not so that he would not be dragged on this doomed quest.

“Ah, but I think we have someone who does,” Dyn said.

Tyr cocked his head. No other DeadBlood had been dabbling with time, had they?

“Finnia,” Dyn announced, “she was intimate with Vitalis. She might know.”

“And trust that witch with our lives? Never!” Tyr spat.

“We threaten her with death if we do not return safely,” Dyn stated.

“And does that threat really hold any water?” Tyr challenged. “With my mother protecting her?”

“If Finnia willingly kills you? I believe even the Queen will fulfill our threat.”

Alex hopped up, his tears dried as he clapped his hands together with the enthusiasm that only a teen could. “Let’s go talk to her. If she doesn’t know, or won’t admit to knowing, then this is all a moot point. If she does know, then we’ll cross the trust bridge later.”

Tyr’s body felt sluggish, as if walking to another suite was simply too much to ask of it right now.

He sat down on a very plush chair. As a matter of fact the most plush chair he’d ever sat on. It would make a good resting spot. “Come back to me with the answer then.”

* * *

Alex couldn’t believe that Tyr was giving up on Salista so easily. Yes, Finnia was a big “B,” but so what? If she helped them find Salista and thwart what crazy Vitalis was up to, wouldn’t it be worth it?

Tyr was stubborn though. He’d only known the guy for a few days, but flexibility was not exactly his strong suit.

Dyn opened the door to Haviana’s room. The rest of the women were there too, including the sweet Alyssa. But he had more important tasks at hand. However he couldn’t help but smile back at her.

Finnia was off in the corner with two guards flanking her. Alex was glad to see how dangerous the girl could be no matter what she was carrying in her belly. Still they needed her.

Dyn walked right over to Finnia. “Your life is not secured.”

The Queen jumped out of her chair, but Dyn raised a hand. “Your Grace, this woman may hold the key to us finding Salista and the beast. Hear me out.”

In a clean dressing gown, the Queen backed up, but did not sit back down.

“Vitalis, what combination of bloods did he use to go back in time?”

Finnia shrugged. “How would I know? He did not share such secrets such as that with me.”

“You lay with him. You clearly are a leader of his disciples and he did not share with you his most important potion?”

Finnia shook her head.

Alex stepped forward. “Perhaps he didn’t, but did he send you on any odd errand? To gather a rare or strange intent blood?”

Finnia’s eyes flickered as she apparently unconsciously bit her lower lip.

“I know three out of the four components from the ancient texts, but the fourth is lost to time,” Dyn stated.

“I don’t know,” Finnia said, not sounding all that convincing any more.

“Do not lie, witch,” Dyn said, leaning into her. “Do not think the Queen or anyone else can stay my blade if I choose to wield it.”

Finnia’s eyes shifted to the Queen, who took her seat. The woman found no comfort there.

“I will not help you hunt him,” Finnia said, jutting her chin out.

At the least she was no longer trying to feign that she didn’t know what they were talking about.

Dyn seemed to understand the change in the playing field as he smiled, leaning back.

“That is better.”

You could see the look of confusion on Finnia’s face. She thought that she was being defiant, and really she’d just told them that she had the information they wanted.

“I don’t…” Finnia stuttered then closed her lips so tightly you could barely see the flesh of them.

Alex stepped forward, indicating for Dyn to step aside. “Let me give it a try.”

He bent his knees, sinking down to Finnia’s level. Alex grabbed the chair arms, pulling himself close to her so that he only had to speak in a whisper. Alex knew girls just like this. The gang leaders’ baby mommas. They had to live a life of blind loyalty. There was no cracking them. Tricking them? That was still on the table.

“Why are you so worried about Vitalis?” Alex asked. “If he is the great man that you say, we couldn’t kill him if we tried, and trust us, we have tried and he has kicked our asses up and down the timeline.”

That brought a grin to Finnia’s lips.

“So you are not betraying him by helping us. If anything he would tell you to tell us.”

“Why?” Finnia asked, exactly the way Alex wanted her to.

“Because your baby is important to him. He is the one that told you to ask for our help, to clear you of your corruption so that you might carry the baby to term, isn’t he?” Finnia’s darting eyes confirmed Alex’s suspicion. “Sure, he wanted you to spy and gain our trust, but he really wanted to give the baby a chance, didn’t he? Who knows if he can ever sire another?”

Licking her lips, Finnia pushed further back in her chair. “Maybe.”

“So by helping us save you and your baby, you are doing exactly what Vitalis would want.”

Finnia chewed on her lip again.

“Tell us true and you and your baby will be spared,” Dyn stated. Her eyes flickered up to the thane as he finished. “Tell us half-truths and no one can spare you.”

She gripped the chair so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Clearly the woman was not used to thinking on her own. Probably what got her into trouble to begin with.

“The blood, Finnia.”

“I don’t know,” Finnia said. “I don’t know for sure, but he did have us harvest the HeartsBlood of rabid bats.”

“Rabid bats?” Alex repeated, looking to Dyn.

“In a spell such as this, most unusual bloods are required.”

“But rabid bats?” Alex asked.

Dyn shrugged. “It would not be outside the possibility. The other three bloods are a man’s dying blood, a woman’s estrus blood, and the blood of a healthy wombat. Rabid bat blood would be most potent.”

Alex turned back to Finnia. “And where were these bats?”

The woman squirmed a bit but her hand went to her belly, cradling her unborn child. “Deep within the mountains. Vitalis said it could only be one species of bat. Only that one, but you will never be able to get them.”

“Why?” Dyn asked.

“The path is treacherous. We had to dismount and even then lost three of the horses. And the bats are ferocious. Crazed with the rabies. We lost five of our party to their bites.”

“And?” Alex asked, sensing she wasn’t being entirely truthful. “And we left a guard of over a dozen beasts to protect the cave from DeadBloods.”

Alex rocked back onto his heel. None of that was good news. There were so many stumbling blocks. He could hear Tyr list them now. The dangerous path and how exactly were they going to trap rabid bats without sacrificing their own? Then there were the dozen or so beasts.

Dyn clapped Alex on the back though. “Well done. See? A DeadBlood’s skills are not always in their muscles. Sometimes, their strength lies in the ears and mouths.”

Alex could feel himself blushing. He wasn’t used to actually doing something well. It felt a little odd.

“You were great,” Alyssa said, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze. “I knew you could do it.”

Okay, it was official now, Alex was blushing. He turned away from the girl before she could see his bright red cheeks. And if he got embarrassed enough, his ear tips would turn a flaming magenta as well.

“Let us tell Tyr,” Dyn said, urging Alex out of the room, thankfully.

CHAPTER 2

Tyr could get used to this chair. It was like sitting on air. He had never felt such comfort. To think this could have been his life. Would it have made him as soft as the chair?

Alex and Dyn burst into the room. He did not need to hear a word. He knew they both thought that they could find Salista.

He rose silently and walked to the door.

“But Tyr, we know the last ingredient,” Alex insisted.

“I am sure that you do,” Tyr said, still walking.

“We are serious, Tyr,” Dyn stated.

“Which is why I am heading to the Jeep. I’m assuming we must get there quickly or all is lost?

“Um,” Alex said shuffling her feet. “Sort of, but don’t you even want to know what it is?”

“Would it matter?” Tyr asked. “I am sure you two were going to level some kind of threat that you’d go with or without me to coerce me to into coming along Am I correct?”

Dyn blushed, his cheeks actually turned a bit red. “I would hope something more sophisticated than that, but essentially, yes.”

“Then let us not tarry. We must be off.”

Tyr walked past his two shocked companions and headed toward the stables. As soon as he’d sat down, Tyr had realized the inevitable. No matter the odds, no matter how slim, he needed to be sure that he could not find Salista.

She would scour the timeline for him. He must do the same. No matter his heavy heart and legs that felt leaden, he must do his duty.

They arrived at the stables within moments. Alex ran ahead to the Jeep, hopping in the driver’s side. Tyr groaned. The thought of having to ride in that contraption for another day seemed almost as bad as losing Salitsta. Almost.

Alex revved the engine. There were several containers of gasoline in the back. The Duke had sent a transport to bring more of the foul liquid for the Jeep.

Everything about Salista’s time either smelled bad or was toxic. Such was the Gilded Age.

Tyr put on his “safety” belt, although he was not quite sure how safe he felt as Alex stepped on the gas pedal while not in the proper gear and bounced them backwards.

“Sorry, my bad,” Alex said, grinding the gears. “It’s all good.”

Tyr seriously doubted that.

Going in the right direction this time, Alex popped the Jeep forward, startling some horses and sending some stable boys scattering. Most of the carnage from the night before had been cleaned up, but clearly everyone was still on edge. Tyr had been frustrated that Hunter was not yet back from the field, but after last night, he was glad his stallion was not here. Instead he was safe out in the countryside.

Rumbling loudly, they exited the stable and struck for the gate. It was only halfway up. The guards hurried to raise it enough to let the Jeep out, but then lowered it back down as a precaution. They were ready if the beasts decided to strike again.

Soon they were out on the road, streaking past the countryside. Why would one want to travel this quickly unless they were in haste to kill a beast? What enjoyment could you have without taking in the sights?

Just one more mystery of the Gilded Age. Tyr was more likely to call it the “Tarnished Age.”

From the backseat, Dyn put his hand on Tyr’s shoulder. “We shall find her.”

Yes, but alive? Whole? Those were the questions that ate at Tyr’s belly.

* * *

Alex loved driving. He loved everything about it. Had he known he liked driving so much, he might have tried harder to stay in school so that he could retake his driver’s training.

There was something about the open air. The feeling of the wind in his hair made it seem like anything was possible.

Like Salista being alive and back in their time? Was she scared to be alone in their time with the beast? Or was she kicking ass and taking names?

Knowing Salista, it was the latter.

The Jeep engine complained as the road became much steeper over the last hour, and now as he looked over his shoulder, they were nearly vertical.

“I’m not sure how much longer we can ride,” Alex stated.

Tyr seemed all too eager to get out of the Jeep, jumping to the ground before Alex could even stop the vehicle.

“From here on foot then,” Tyr said.

Dyn helped Alex get the Jeep under some brush to hide it as Tyr struck forward on the trail.

“There is a rise not far,” Tyr called back. “I believe the cave is over the ridge and down the ravine.”

Dyn looked up to the sun. “Night will fall soon. Shall we overnight here, then attack in the morn?”

Tyr shook his head. “We cannot risk the news of our departure to reach them. If we wish any element of surprise, we must strike now.”

Alex slung on his pack and made sure that his scabbard hung down at his side. It was shocking how uncomfortable the thing was if it wasn’t set properly. One of those things that he didn’t learn in high school. Basic Sword Etiquette 101.

He hurried after the other two DeadBloods. The afternoon had been hot and the evening didn’t seem like it was going to cool down much. These leathers were a heat sink. Alex had sweat pouring down every crevice of his body. They might look rad, but dang, they were uncomfortable. Dyn kept reassuring him that the leathers would ultimately conform to his body like an old pair of shoes.

Alex had to grab at brush to help pull himself up the nearly vertical mountain slope.

Tyr waved him forward, reaching his hand out to pull Alex to the apex. From there they had a spectacular view of the entire Sierra Nevadas. The Sierra Club would be so happy to see them so pristine. Alex slipped, nearly falling off the razor thin ledge. Dyn grabbed his elbow, steadying him.

The ravine looked way down there. And the walls were nearly vertical, as well. It gave Alex pause, but Tyr pulled rope from his pack and attached it to one of the jagged rocks sticking up from the mountain.

He then secured the other end to his waist and started his treacherous descent to the ravine floor.

Dyn helped Alex hook himself to the safety line.

Okay, so just add one more task, repelling, to the long list of things that the San Francisco Public School System did not prepare him for.

“Do not look down,” Dyn said.

Easy for the thane to say, he’d probably done this a million times. All Alex wanted to do was look down. How could he not look down?

Dyn had Alex go down first. “Keep your eyes on me,” Dyn suggested.

Because, ya, that’s just what Alex wanted to do. Stare at his thane’s butt. Okay, it was a well-sculpted butt, but still.

Instead, Alex thought of Alyssa. Her beauty. The heat of her palm in his. If only there had been a girl like that in his homeroom class, he might have attended school a bit more regularly.

He knew that supposedly DeadBloods weren’t allowed to love. He was sure though that others had. You could control many things about a person’s behavior, but love was not one of them. He wondered if Dyn had ever loved? And Tyr? The guy was so guilty of violating that code, it wasn’t even funny.

So many, they could allow an exception from Alex since he was of a different time. So far the only perk to being a DeadBlood was getting Alyssa’s respect. If he couldn’t walk that forward, what was the point?

It hadn’t been until he was told he couldn’t marry and have kids, that he even thought about that possibility. He’d been too busy trying to survive and maybe chatting up a girl at the arcade.

Now though, since he had become a man, he looked at Alyssa and could see her as the mother of his children. Weird, right? This grown-up thing was really throwing him for a loop.

“There, see?” Dyn asked pointing down. But Alex thought he wasn’t supposed to look down?

He obeyed Dyn anyway to find himself already at the bottom of the ravine. If he was ever lucky enough to see Alyssa again, he would thank her for making this passage so much easier.

Tyr was already untied and heading down the ravine, his sword up.

“Can you smell that?” Dyn asked.

Um, how could he not? It smelled like a sewer that had rotted for about a year. He scrunched up his nose.

“No, not that,” Dyn said. “That is the bat guano. The other scents, the more subtle ones.”

Alex closed his eyes, trying to rid his mind of the hella-stench. Could there really be any other aromas in there?

Then he smelled it. “Boredom?” Alex ventured a guess, feeling a little stupid.

“Very good,” Dyn stated. “Apparently we do have the element of surprise, for here we travel silently.”

The thane smashed a bottle of blood onto his and Alex’s feet. Alex stomped his foot. Not a sound.

“It will cover most twig snaps, but anything louder will be heard,” Dyn cautioned Alex.

Alex nodded. He’s been through this before. It felt a little weird that Blood Magic was getting to feel a little old hat. Sure, his footsteps were magically covered. What was surprising about that? Or being dressed in leathers and going to attack some beasts then capture some rabid bats? It was Tuesday, right?

The smell only got worse as they approached. They must have been downwind to the cave. How did bats, even rabid ones live like that?

And how could the beasts live out here with them? They were beasts, so Alex could only assume they had a sense of smell as good as his. What a nightmare.

But then again, they were beasts after all. If Finnia was any example, they were already living a nightmare. A little bat guano really didn’t factor into it, did it?

Ahead of him, Tyr’s blade went up as he stopped on a dime.

Something was ahead of them.

What monster would it be this time?

* * *

Tyr stood perfectly still. There was a beast right around the corner. He must have kept close to the ravine wall because Tyr only picked him up a few steps ago. The rush of water helped mask the beast’s movements.

There was also the ruffle of feathers. They must have a flying beast with them. Tyr pointed low to the ground then high into the air. Dyn nodded, although Alex looked confused. Dyn leaned in and whispered to Alex who then nodded also. He mouthed, “Got it.”

Tyr took a small step forward, then another. The beast was so near that he could smell his fetid breath. It smelled of a predator. Tyr carefully pulled his second blade out. There could be as many as a dozen fully matured beasts around this corner. He had to be prepared.

Dyn was at his back, ready to jump into the fray with him. Alex hung back a little but that was probably for the best. Tyr didn’t want to find Salista alive just to tell her he’d gotten her little brother killed.

On the entire long Jeep ride here, Dyn tried to instill as much wisdom as he could, however there was a difference between talking about fighting and actually fighting.

Tyr took another step. One more and he’d be visible to the beasts.

Taking in a deep breath, he let out a war cry and leapt beyond the stone wall. He sliced at the nearest beast, severing off a leg. The beast was a wolverine who had wholly been shocked at the intruder.

Boredom was perhaps a warrior’s worst enemy. It made you slow and stupid.

There was no organization to the group. They seemed to just be sitting around a pool in the stream.

Dyn jumped out to his left, slicing at an elk beast. The wings Tyr had heard flapping belonged to a vulture beast. With a few strong flaps, it pushed off from the rock it was perched, and became airborne.

Tyr had hoped to stop the beast before that, but a raccoon-like beast rushed him, knocking Tyr off balance. He regrouped quickly, arcing his sword, bringing it down on the beast’s tail, cutting it clean off. The raccoon howled in frustration, blood pouring out of the artery.

He turned to Alex. “Finish him,”

Without waiting, Tyr turned his attention to a rather pudgy panda beast. To find a beast who looked so adorable was a bit disconcerting. It was like he was killing some child’s stuffed toy.

But with four-inch claws and nasty yellowed fangs, this was no toy. Tyr gave another war cry, packing it with as much edict as he could. The bear stumbled back a step. Dyn was fighting the elk beast as the vulture harassed him from the sky.

Tyr could not dally with the panda.

He waited until the rotund beast lunged, then crossed his swords low, waiting for the head to come into position, then sliced upward. The beast didn’t even have time to cry out.

* * *

Alex watched as the panda’s head bounded toward him. So much for Kung Fu powers. It was like a part of Alex’s childhood had just been slaughtered. But now he had a pissed off raccoon to deal with.

The beast hissed at Alex, spraying him in hot beast spit.

Gross.

He knew that he should have probably finished off the raccoon by now. He was bleeding out as they fought, but dang, the thing was just crazy. The raccoon would spin, pivot and strike, faster than you could see. Or at least, as Alex could see.

The raccoon reared up on his hind legs, getting ready for another attack.

Then there was a blade in his back. The raccoon croaked over right in front of Alex.

Tyr pulled out his sword. “Do not tally,” the DeadBlood growled. “Dyn needs your help.”

Alex turned to find the elk gouging at Dyn with his long antlers, keeping Dyn well back and unable to use his sword, and the vulture dove for the thane.

And how exactly was Alex supposed to help?

Tyr was already battling a zebra, so he wouldn’t be able to answer that question.

Alex tried out his war cry. Dyn had explained that it was meant to knock the beasts back. It wasn’t so much a warning as a physical action.

Ya, Alex’s sounded like something off a Justin Bieber album. Not very threatening. As a matter of fact, neither the elk nor the vulture even turned to look at him, which might actually be helpful.

The vulture was the biggest problem, boxing Dyn in, not allowing him to maneuver around the charging elk.

Alex channeled all of those rock climbing lessons that Salista had made him go to, even though he thought it was the stupidest idea in the world. When would he climb rocks in San Francisco outside of a lame gym?

Salista had told him that you never knew where you’d end up. Obviously, truer words had never been said.

He climbed up the rocky face of the ravine, gaining height, unnoticed above the fight. Once above the vulture, he paused. This was one daring plan. Maybe too daring.

Alex considered just flinging his sword into the beast, but he knew he didn’t have the strength or accuracy to make that work. Once he’d done that, he’d made himself a target.

No, the only way was to leap off the rock onto the vulture’s back.

So here went nothing.

Once he was airborne, it felt great. The wind rushing up, the feeling of weightlessness and invincibility. Then he hit the vulture. He hadn’t anticipated how that was going to go. The vulture tilted, veering to the side. Alex nearly slipped off. He used his sword like a little like a fork and stuck it into the vulture’s back. The bird beast screamed, reeling, hitting the side of the ravine, nearly knocking Alex to the ground. But he held on for dear life. They were way too high up for him to fall. He’d just be squashed like a bug.

He kicked his leg so that it straddled the vulture. He dug in the sword and the vulture, sensing his demise, flapped them down nearly to the ground. Once Alex felt like he could survive the fall, he used his other blade to slit the bird’s neck.

In a tumble, they fell from the sky, hitting the ground pretty danged hard. Alex’s vision spun for a moment. Maybe he should have waited until they were a little lower before trying that maneuver.

The vulture wasn’t dead yet, it’s giant beak opened and closed as it tried to take a piece of Alex with it to the next world.

A hand grabbed Alex by the back of the jacket and lifted him to safety.

“Next time you try that maneuver, be sure to grab hold of the beast’s neck so that you have some stability and leverage,” Tyr said before turning back to the battle at hand.

Next time? Um, Alex didn’t think there would be a next time.

CHAPTER 3

Tyr swiveled around. He didn’t have time to move his feet as both the elk and the zebra attacked. Antlers and hooves flew. He took a vial off his bandoleer and smashed it against his sword.

The blade glowed a ruddy orange. The metal sizzled and cut through the antlers like butter. A hoof flew through the air as the zebra screamed, plowing its nose into the dirt. All the easier for Tyr to relieve the beast of its head.

That left only the elk. The other beasts were either dead or had fled. Now it was three DeadBloods to one elk beast. Fear shown in its dark eyes. With a flick of its tail, it too ran off.

Tyr should have been pleased, but a chittering from within the cave set his teeth on edge.

“Okay, phase one complete, now how are we going to catch these rabid bats without getting rabies ourselves?” Alex asked.

Which, unfortunately, was a very good and pressing question. Tyr turned to Dyn who shrugged. That was not good when your strategic thinker did not know.

“We must flush them from the cave,” Tyr said.

“Um, thanks Mr. Obvious,” Alex snorted. “But then what?

Tyr frowned. This was not his idea in the first place. Why were they looking to him to solve their problem?

“Fire,” Dyn stated.

“Go on,” Tyr encouraged.

“Like any animal, bats fear fire. If we were to set up a series of torches along this path, and drive them into the dead-end canyon here, we can contain them.”

“But how does that kill them without them killing us first?” Alex asked. Again, a very good question. Salista’s brother was turning out to be an excellent student.

“We anoint our weapons with quiet blood. If we clang them together, they should make quite a sound, hopefully disorienting them enough so that they kill themselves on the rock.”

Ah, there was the Dyn of old. Thinking well outside the boundaries of conventional thinking. Tyr slapped his thane on the back.

“I agree wholeheartedly,” Tyr said.

“Um, how exactly are we going to get the bats out of their cave?”

Tyr turned to the youngest DeadBlood knowing that he was not going to like the answer to that question.

* * *

Alex’s hand shook, making the torch he was holding bounce, casting shadows at weird angles. He gulped as he looked into the cave. When he was little he really wanted a bat cave. Now, however? He realized how uncool that could be.

Dyn had insisted that the bats would be too afraid of the fire to swoop down on him and give him a little bat nip. But now, Alex wasn’t so sure as he listened to the excited chatter coming from inside the cave. The sun was just setting, the perfect time for the bats to come out and hunt. And you know, spread rabies.

Taking in a deep breath he looked to Tyr and Dyn. All three of them had pulled kerchiefs over their faces and made sure that there were no nooks or crannies for the bats to crawl into their clothes. Then their clothes had been anointed. Both of the other men’s leathers glowed in the low light.

Torches flared brightly in a double line, guiding the bats to their doom on the wall. Now, just to drive them into enough of a frenzy.

Which, unfortunately, had fallen to Alex. Being the smallest of the three allows less area for the bats to bite and also the quickest. Damn his youth and natural speed.

Tyr nodded, which was the equivalent of most people shouting, “hurry up!”

Alex gulped one last time and took a step forward, trying to allow his eyes to get used to the dark cavern. The torchlight didn’t go so far in here.

He craned his neck to look up at the ceiling of the cavern. It looked black as night, but it moved. You could see undulations and the bats crawled over each other.

Super creepy. They seemed a little agitated already even just by his torch. Plus, it was time their nappy time was over.

Alex waved the torch over his head. “Hey! Get outta here!”

The bats squirmed and chittered but did not take flight. Alex took another few steps into the cave. “Hey!” He really waved the torch now. Still nothing.

To hell with going in there any further. Instead Alex cocked back and threw the torch at the ceiling. The flame turned end over end until it hit the stone ceiling.

Once one bat scattered, so did the rest. In a mass exodus, the bats screamed, taking flight as one. They reeled as one, turning the air, heading straight for Alex. He turned and ran. Without his torch he had no defense against the bats as they quickly overtook him.

“Here!” Dyn shouted. Alex angled toward the wall of torches as Dyn and Tyr beat their swords together. Dyn hadn’t been kidding. The sound threatened to split Alex’s ear drums. The bats weren’t having a good time either as they split off their flock, flying in all kinds of crazy directions. Unfortunately, one of those directions was toward Alex.

He dashed through the space between two torches as most of the bats turned, heading down the path that Tyr and Dyn had created. With the exception of one especially deranged bat. It followed Alex through the fire and landed on his arm. Holding onto the fabric with its tiny claws on the tips of its wings, it reared back its tiny head and sunk its teeth through the anointed fabric and into his flesh.

Alex screamed, flapping his arm like a crazy person. It was Dyn that stabbed the bat with his short sword and flicked the bat off Alex’s arm and into the dirt. Dyn then gave a stomp and the thing stopped moving.

“I’ve got rabies!” Alex shouted “I’ve got rabies!”

“Stop moving!” Dyn grunted as he pulled back Alex’s sleeve. Two tiny, seemingly innocuous bite marks dribbled blood down his arm. Such small wounds that injected a million viral particles into his blood stream. Clearly, he’d hung out way too much with Salista.

“I told you. I told you!” Alex screamed, not caring what he sounded like.

Dyn removed the cork and dribbled a drop onto the wound. It stung, but immediately the holes began to close.

“Another drop, please,” Alex begged. One drop just didn’t seem like enough with a rabies bite. He could swear he felt the virus in his brain already, making him rabid mad.

“Only because we have the artificial HeartsBlood at the castle,” Dyn said with a sigh, tilting the vial until another drop splashed on Alex’s skin. Now you couldn’t even tell where the bites were.

“What about the virus that is already in my bloodstream?” Alex asked, trying not to freak out too much.

“The HeartsBlood will chase it down. It detects any illness and negates it.”

Alex felt his knees get weak and Dyn helped him to sit down.

Trying to steady his heartbeat, Alex asked, “Did it work?”

* * *

Tyr stood well back from the torch line, keeping his own torch at the ready. The plan had worked. Many of the bats were smashing themselves upon the rock.

And Alex’s yelling had stopped. Either the boy was dead or he was cured. At this point, with that commotion, Tyr did not care either way the outcome.

Most of the bats corrected course and flew up and over the sheer ravine wall. A few dozen bats flapped around on the ground. Tyr stepped forward and gave them a quick death. It was not the bats’ fault they were rabid. And doubly not their fault that they needed their rabid hearts.

He did not wish them to suffer if need not be.

Dyn came from behind him. “Do we have enough?”

“I can only hope so.”

“Who… who is going to collect the hearts?” Alex asked.

If Tyr were in the mood to watch someone faint, he would tell Alex it was he. However, he really did not wish to have to tend to an unconscious teen, so Tyr held his tongue.

“I shall,” Dyn stated. “While I do, Alex, put out the torches and be sure that we do not spread any fire into the wilderness.”

“What if the beasts come back?” Alex asked.

“Then they come back,” Tyr answered. While overall, Alex had performed bravely, but he still had a lot to learn of DeadBloods. They never feared a beast. To meet a beast upon the road was a chance to eliminate a beast from the world.

“Ya, not a real cheerleader, are you?” Alex scoffed, but moved off.

Dyn handed Tyr the first bat heart. It was still warm in his gloved hand. “Shall I make the potion now?”

Dyn shook his head. “I think our most opportune choice is to leave from the castle. Hopefully we will land near Salista and the beast.”

Tyr pulled a pouch from his jacket, placed the heart within it and added the others that Dyn harvested.

“Done,” Alex said.

“Then start climbing out,” Tyr said, certain that Alex would need more time than he or Dyn.

“So we’re going back?” the teen asked.

“Apparently,” Tyr answered.

Not that he ever wanted to go back to the Royal castle. He’d rather not finish whatever uncomfortable conversation the Queen had in store for him.

* * *

Alex took his foot off the gas as they approached the castle. Apparently these townsfolk didn’t realize they really should get out of the way of an approaching Jeep. Instead, he had to slow to a crawl so as not to take out a villager here and there.

Finally they made their way to the gate which was opened for them. Then the slow, steep climb to the stables. Guards awaited to escort them to the Royal chambers.

It was late. Really late. Like way past his curfew, and even with his night owl ways, this was late. There were barely any candles in the castle windows. The castle seemed a little ghastly all dark and shadow-filled.

They met no one on the walk up to the chambers. Their footsteps clanged and echoed down the long, empty halls.

They passed several suits of armor, a sword collection and finally a large tapestry detailing the ruling family’s genealogy. He noticed that Tyr was not on it and there were no more branches coming off any of the Royal families’ names.

Dyn had told Alex of the consequence of a DeadBlood’s birth, but seeing it laid out like that was a little shocking. Had he doomed Salista as well? In theory, she shouldn’t be able to marry or have children either since she was related to a DeadBlood.

These rules were just stupid.

Someone was going to have to change them. All thoughts of social rebellion faded though as they approached the Royal chamber. Alyssa and her mother waited outside the door.

“Oh thank the heavens,” Alyssa said, rushing to give him a hug.

Ya. Totally stupid rules.

He hugged her back. “We’re good and we got the bat hearts.”

Alyssa’s beautiful face cringed up at the mention of the hearts. Right. Cute lady in waiting. Rabid bat hearts probably a little TMI for her.

“I am glad that you are well,” she said backing away as her mother tugged her back.

The doors to the Royal chamber opened. Clearly, the Royal family had been rousted out of their beds for this meeting. The Queen wore no makeup and her long golden hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun. The King was in his night robes, a golden sash keeping them closed. Alex feared what he had, or did not have, under there.

Haviana was also slightly disheveled. It was nice to see someone else was getting some sleep.

The Queen stepped forward. “We are glad to find you all hale.”

* * *

Tyr frowned. Of course they were hale. They were DeadBlood. They were either buried or hale. There was no in between.

Dyn though bowed his head. “Your Majesty, thank you for your concern. We have acquired the necessary ingredients and are ready to make the potion and follow Salista and Vitalis.”

The Queen nodded and indicated to a variety of packages on the couches and chairs. “We have gathered all of Salista’s material and any spare intent blood that your comrades could afford.”

“Thank you,” Tyr said. The Queen looked startled that he had spoken to her as she blushed and gathered her robe around her waist.

“It is the least I could do.”

“Then I would recommend that you leave us to our task,” Dyn stated. “The potion is unstable and I would not wish anyone harmed.”

The King nodded. “Of course” and turned to return to his bed chamber. Haviana followed. Only the Queen lingered.

“Tyr, we must speak before you leave.”

“My Grace,” Tyr said with a nod of his head. “I would, but we must make haste.”

“You are going back in time several centuries. Will a few moments really matter all that much?”

Tyr could not argue and Dyn was no help. Alex had begun putting the carefully packaged boxes into their gear. He could avoid the conversation no more.

“My son,” the Queen whispered. Her words were filled the pain. “I have long wronged you.”

Tyr did not want to hear this. Couldn’t she see it only made things worse. He took a step back. “Please, I do not…”

The Queen grabbed his arm. He expected a jolt of LiveBlood to shoot up his arm. Vitalis was a potent LiveBlood. Tyr had just assumed the Queen would be as well, but he felt nothing.

“No,” he hissed, backing away.

“Tyr, please,” she begged, tears welling in her eyes.

“What is wrong?” Dyn asked.

“Nothing,” Tyr snapped. “Nothing at all. Just get us the potion.”

Tyr refused to believe what his heart already knew.

He could not believe it. Not now. Not ever.

LIVEBLOOD – the stunning conclusion to the Blood Magic Saga

CHAPTER 1

Sal sat at the diner counter as Jimi Hendrix played on the radio, which had been preceded by the Beatles, Elvis and Pink Floyd. And no, the radio wasn’t tuned to a classic rock station. This was a pop station. These songs were brand new since it was 1967.

She was still having problems assimilating this information. There was no Lionel to consult. There was no Internet to hook her computer up to. There was not even a Salista Calon yet.

Starving after the wild vortex ride, she’d come here. It was her father’s favorite diner. Weird, all the booths were bright red. The vinyl had yet to crack and fade. But dang, this apple pie was the best. The crust so flaky. She could see why her Dad loved it so much.

And the Coke? Made with actual sugar rather than high fructose syrup? Like velvet on the tongue. In her time you could only find this stuff in Mexico.

Sal smiled as two men, swathed in tie-dye peace signs, with white boy ‘fros out to there, walked by. What a wild time.

With some food in her belly and caffeine to her brain, Sal began to feel less shaky.

Okay, so she was stranded in 1967 without Lionel or Tyr. No biggie. And a beast roaming around, doing who knew what? Again, what was the problem? But no matter how Sal tried to spin it, she was screwed.

Tyr would come for her, wouldn’t he?

Her heart swelled thinking of their reunion. But how would he know where she was? How could he find her exact location?

Her chest fell. Tyr wasn’t coming. He would try, but it would be impossible.

“Everything okay, hon?” A young waitress asked. She had bright red hair piled high on top of her head.

“Jenny?” Sal asked, hardly believing what she was seeing. She was used to the older Jenny. With only a few red streaks in her otherwise white hair. And it was cropped short, not the flowing locks Sal was witnessing. Plus Jenny’s skin was as soft and smooth as a baby’s, not the rivulets of wrinkles that Sal was accustomed to.

“Yes, sweetie. Do I know you?” Jenny asked.

Not yet, Sal thought but didn’t say.

“Sorry, no, I just heard how great a waitress you were.”

“Ah, honey bunch don’t make me blush. Now did you want anything else?”

“No, I think I’m good,” Sal replied. “The check?”

Jenny put the green piece of paper on the table. The total was sixty cents. That couldn’t be right could it? Sal didn’t even have any change on her. She just had a few crumpled bills in the laptop bag.

She laid a dollar bill down on the counter as she waved goodbye. “Thanks!”

Jenny came over and saw the dollar. “Don’t you want the change, hon?”

“Nope, keep it,” Sal stated as she headed out.

Now at the least she had a plan.

* * *

Tyr stood far back in the throne room as Dyn explained to the King and Queen their plan. He could not even look at his mother. Tyr knew what he felt. He knew for a fact she was Deadblood, yet he could not believe it.

How could she be?

His mind worried over the fact that he could barely hear the conversation not five feet away.

Their mouths moved, but Tyr did not understand the words.

Too much had happened in too narrow a time frame.

Salista had been lost with the beast.

He was to be an uncle to witch-born spawn

His mother was a Deadblood.

None of this should have been true.

“I am coming,” his sister, Haviana said loudly enough to shake him from his pondering.

“My lady,” Dyn said bowing his head. “This is a dangerous --”

His sister stepped forward. She had changed into hunting attire. Haviana still wore a skirt but it allowed for good motion and her chest was covered by leather armor. “More dangerous than fighting the beasts off from the castle, because as I remember, you did not deny my blade then.”

She refused to back down so Dyn turned to the Queen. “Please, this is a risky enough venture for the three of us.” His thane indicated to Tyr and Alex.

The Queen folded her arms though. “So another sword should be of benefit.”

It was decided then. Dyn sighed, backing down the steps to the throne.

“We should be off immediately,” Dyn stated.

The King gave a nod. “God’s speed to you all.”

Haviana followed, sheathing her sword as she joined them. “How does this work?”

“You mean if it works,” Alex snorted. “Let’s just say it is not fun.”

Fun was not the objective though. Saving Salista was.

“Tyr?” Dyn asked holding out the blood components.

“There does not seem to be a lot of fanfare,” Tyr stated. “You simply mix them together and hold firmly in your mind when and where you want to go.”

Dyn nodded, pulling out a small bowl from his robe. He dribbled several drops of each of the bloods together in the bowl. He mumbled a DeadBlood incantation which basically asked for luck.

Soon the blood swirled on its own within the bowl, spinning faster and faster until the bowl floated up from Dyn’s hands. Tyr took Alex’s hand and Dyn’s in the other. They joined hands with Haviana. Once the circle was completed, the room around them spun, tilting precariously. Tyr’s stomach lurched. He watched his sister’s face blanch as the vortex spun around them blurring out the rest of the room.

His body was jerked upward so hard that he almost lost Alex’s hand, but he held firm.

Now there was no difference between the vortex and Tyr. His mind whirled as erratically as the vortex. Wind roared in his ears. He was so thoroughly disoriented, Tyr could not tell up from down.

A scream carried on the wind? Salista? His sister? Mother?

Did it matter? Then the blinding flash of red. His mind was bathed in it. His eyes could see nothing else but the brilliant color.

Then as if he were a wench that a suitor tired of, they were thrown to the ground in one stunning flash. He’d lost both men’s hands as he rolled hard on the ground.

Tyr groaned as he got himself to his knees. The world felt odd without the red that had filled his being. He had to blink several times to take in the garden-like surrounding. A large lawn lay out before them. Off to the side were Roman columns and in the distance were several buildings. Museums if he wasn’t mistaken. He had been here before.

This was the Golden Gate Park. He had challenged the beast here and barely made it out alive. The smell and clothes of this time leant itself to the turn of the century. They looked to be in the right year.

A couple, holding a picnic basket between them, passed their group. “Oh look, honey, the Renaissance Faire must be in town.”

Tyr ignored them.

“It worked,” Alex whispered. “We’re in the Park.

“Can we buy tickets from you?” the man asked.

It was Alex that stepped forward. “No, sorry, they don’t trust us with money. Gotta go on ‘PayPal.’”

“Oh, thank you,” the woman said as the couple moved on.

“So this is the Gilded Age?” Dyn asked, his tone hushed as well.

“As Gilded as it can be.”

Dyn looked around. “It does not seem as bad as you described.”

“This is a sanctuary for them. Wait until we pass through its gates,” Tyr assured him. This time just smelt wrong. How could people live like this?”

“What do we do now?” Haviana asked, glancing around, seeming uncertain of her surroundings. Her palm was on the hilt of her sword.

Tyr turned to Alex. “I am thinking Salista would head straight to Lionel?”

The young man nodded, brushing himself off.

“This way then” Tyr stated, heading toward the large iron gates.

Salista was out there somewhere and he needed to find her. Not for the world or future generations, but for himself.

* * *

Sal knew she should probably be doing something more productive than this, but she couldn’t help herself. The beast was probably as freaked out as she was. This hadn’t been his plan, so he had to be regrouping.

She was doing the same thing, sort of.

The ache in her heart for her father and mother had overridden any intellectual attempt at a game plan.

So here she stood on the corner of Mission and 19th. Hanging out under a fire escape. It was her parent’s old apartment. Back before they had kids, they lived in a tiny studio apartment right in the heart of the Mission District.

Her mom used to clean office buildings and her dad worked at a gas station, manning the full service pumps. So weird, but that was their life before her mom ultimately got a job at the high school working her way up from janitor to head of sanitation of the district.

Her father, of course, had gone on to become a master mechanic. Working on, shockingly, gasp at the time, foreign cars. He was one of the first so when the rush of Japanese and German cars hit the market, he was there to fulfill that need.

But this was before all of that. 1967 they would have still been newlyweds. This was their first apartment. For the first three months of marriage they had lived with Sal’s grandmother until they had saved enough for an apartment.

In this grimy alley, Sal could see why both of her parents had been so dedicated to her education. Neither wanted to see her live like this.

As a noise sounded overhead, Sal retreated behind a dumpster as her parents came out onto the fire escape. They used to joke that the fire escape was larger than their living room.

It was shocking to see her parents like this. So young. So vital. So in love. You could see it in both of their eyes. They sparkled in their spanking new marriage.

Her father wrapped his arms around his wife, kissing her deeply. Sal blushed and had to look away. Her mother laughed, playing at pushing him away, leaning back over the railing. Her laughter carried down the alley.

What was up with those mutton chops down the side of her father’s face? She’d seen pictures of course, but seeing those chops in reality, they took on a life of their own. And her mom? What was up with the slicked back hair with a flip at the end? She looked like she was trying to be the Latin version of Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

But the really striking thing was how carefree they both seemed. Her mother’s laugh came so easily and smile spread across her face far wider than any Sal had seen before. And her father wasn’t ill. He was the picture of perfect health.

If this was them now, what had chipped away at their souls? Was it having children? Would Tyr and she fall into a loveless marriage after a few decades? Would she become a shrew? Would Tyr walk bent over, broken?

A shudder passed over her. Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea.

Luckily her parents went back into the apartment, apparently to practice trying to make her. Sal did not want to hear that.

So she exited the alley and walked down Mission Street. This part of town was far tamer than the Haight-Ashbury district. Tame, but Latino. Way more than it was even in her day. Bright striped blankets hung over windowsills, drying. The smell of tamales filled the air.

A thought she had been pushing back, came to the surface. What if she was stuck here, really stuck? Like, going to live her life out in 1967. It would suck, but not that badly she decided.

Yet her heart ached for Tyr and Alex and even Dyn. Plus she wasn’t quite sure how she was going to survive without the Internet.

Well, if she wanted to get back to her time, she’d better get her butt in action. Which was kind of the problem. What action should she take?

Sal knew of the statue that had heartbroken blood in the Park, but if Vitalis took it, wouldn’t that strand him in her time in the future? Her brain pounded each time she had to think of the ramifications of time travel.

She had to assume he wouldn’t risk it, so he needed more heartbroken blood. If she could find that, she could find him and hitch a ride back with him.

Or at least she hoped so.

* * *

Alex got off the bus, following the “grown ups,” although Tyr was acting more like a spoiled child. He refused to address his sister and stalked far ahead of them as they angled toward Lionel’s laboratory.

Every few feet he would look behind him, worried the beast was near. Alex knew they were still human and might be redeemed, but those long ass fangs still freaked him out.

He would have nightmares forever after that attack on the castle. He’d barely been a part of it yet it was seared into his memory. And to think Salista was out there with one, all by herself. Unarmed.

Okay, he couldn’t think like that. He was freaking himself out.

“He always like this or is it just me?” Haviana asked as she pulled next to Alex.

“He’s pretty taciturn,” Alex admitted. “But you’ve definitely brought out the worst in him.”

Haviana frowned. “I do not blame him, I suppose.”

“For what?” Alex asked.

“That is for my brother to tell you,” Haviana said. Great. He was still being treated as a kid even by the chick in a semi-dominatrix outfit.

“Come, come,” Dyn stated, urging them forward as Tyr turned a corner and disappeared from view.

Alex had to trot to catch up. These boots were not meant for running. That was for sure. Leather creaked as he moved. He would have thought how cool that was a week ago. Now he just worried about the chaffing.

Finally they reached Tyr just as he opened up the door to the Physics department’s main entrance. He seemed to know what he was doing as he pressed forward with those long strides of his.

They went down stairs, then down some more until they reached Lionel’s deep underground laboratory. Tyr didn’t bother to knock, he just burst into the lab.

Lionel jumped, his arm in his “fake” essence. He looked like a child who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He took the appendage out, shaking it, as if to try and get rid of the evidence.

“Tyr! Boy am I glad to see you!” the scientist exclaimed although Tyr did not seem to feel the same.

“Is Salista here?” Tyr barked.

Lionel backed away a step. ‘No, dude, I thought she was with you.”

Tyr turned on his heel, stalking around the lab as if he didn’t believe Lionel.

Dyn stepped forward and explained their current situation. Lionel’s face bled of color as he sank down, sitting on a stool.

“Dude, that is rough,” Lionel said. “Trust me, if she’d gotten in contact with me, I’d tell you, but are you sure that she is in this timeline?”

“What do you mean?” Haviana asked.

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” Lionel asked.

“Tyr’s sister,” the woman replied.

“Oh right, his older sister, right because his parents couldn’t procreate after…”

Tyr turned around a frown engraved on his features. “Perhaps more discussion on where Salista might have found herself?”

“Yah, sure, sure,” Lionel said, swiveling around to face his computer. “If it really was a blast that strong, then I’m worried that the vortex may have shifted, dumping her and the beast along any number of timeline points.”

“You can’t narrow it down more than that?” Tyr asked, his tone still gruff.

“I mean I can calculate the force of the blast and make some assumptions, but this is a vortex created by blood magic we are talking about, I don’t exactly have a degree in that.”

“But you do in your sciences,” Tyr said through gritted teeth. “So far my magic and your science have matched up.”

Lionel nodded, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Right, right. I’m on it.”

Dyn turned to Tyr. “And what to do in the meantime?”

Tyr was all over that, answering without hesitation. “Alex and I will go by Salista’s apartment and if not there, we shall check the hospital.”

“I could come along,” Haviana stated.

Tyr sneered, “But you aren’t.”

Glad to know that Alex had just moved one rung up on Tyr’s least favorite person list.

CHAPTER 2

Sal walked into the San Francisco Public Library. She smelled in the old book scent, taking a deep, deep breath. This had been her salvation in her youth. When her parents started fighting and Alex started crying, Sal would walk out the door with her library card.

That card was a passport to a million different, and better worlds. Even Tolstoy seemed like a mood lightener than her household, especially after her father became ill.

How many hours had she spent in this library? Sometimes from opening to closing hours. Her love of learning had started here. She doubted she would have done so well in school if she hadn’t had this sanctuary.

But today was not for pleasure. Today was to try and find out where the beast was heading, before he could head there. She was certain by now the beast had gotten a human accomplice. But if that traitor to his race thought he could research something faster and better than Sal, he had another think coming.

She made a beeline to the microfiche machines. They would have all the local papers archived there. Without any Starbucks, this was going to be a long afternoon.

Sal had already scanned the day’s papers. No outbreak of encephalitis. No big splashy murders so the beast was laying low. He’d learned from the last times he had been here that the more killing, the more attention was focused on him.

No, what she needed was something probably in the recent past. Some heartbreaking situation that would render heartbroken blood. He would need it to go forward to either of their ages.

If she could get this blood before the beast, she would have a bargaining chip. And since she didn’t have anything else, this search was paramount.

As she pushed the little button, Sal scanned page after page of headlines. She only skimmed them. She didn’t need to read the article. She just needed some major, personal tragedy. From there she wasn’t quite sure what she was going to do, but this was a start.

Then a headline announced, the mayor’s baby daughter had died suddenly. In 1967 they didn’t have the term SIDS, but that was exactly what it sounded like. A perfectly normal, healthy baby died suddenly in its sleep. During this time they didn’t understand sleep apnea nor the triggers for the syndrome.

This was a personal tragedy, however it was a few months old. She needed to collect heartbroken blood just as Tyr had done from her, right at the moment your heart broke. She could still feel his steel sliding across her skin. The shock and horror of that moment had settled deep into her soul.

He was DeadBlood. He had warned her. She had not heeded that warning.

And here she was.

She scanned the headlines some more. Her old hospital popped up several times.

A plan began to form. It was a horrible, awful plan. However, she was in a horrible, awful situation.

Pushing back from the microfiche, Sal set off on this horrible, awful plan.

* * *

Tyr looked back to see Alex trying to hurry to catch up. If the boy was going to be a true DeadBlood, he was going to have to learn how to walk faster.

They could not tarry. Salista’s abode had been empty. There was no evidence that she had been back there. So they headed to the hospital, although he had little faith she would be there either.

Unfortunately Lionel was more than likely correct. Sal and the beast had been thrown off course into who knew what timeline.

He had to believe that. He could not allow himself to believe the alternative. Not again. The thought that Salista was dead would shatter him for a second time. He walked in through the ambulance doors, Alex a few steps behind him.

Several staff looked them up and down.

One nurse commented, “I didn’t know the Renaissance Faire was back in town.”

Tyr did not know of this Faire but apparently it was popular. Then he spotted her. The blond doctor that Salista hated so much. The woman couldn’t look him in the eye. All the better.

He hated himself for kissing her as much as Sal hated him for it. But it had been necessary, had it not? He needed heartbroken blood. He knew how to get it, quickly. He was DeadBlood and would do whatever was necessary to protect his land.

Or at the least that is how he tried to explain it to himself.

Could he do so now? Was he the same man as before? Reluctantly he could not say that he was. He doubted he could have even spoken this straw-colored woman’s name now. Let alone press his lips upon hers.

The thought disgusted him.

No, he could no longer violate Salista’s trust like that.

She however had heeded his words. Tyr could feel Salista holding back, not allowing herself to melt into him.

Salista had finally come to believe what it meant to be DeadBlood just as he began to question what being a DeadBlood meant to him.

* * *

Sal made her way into the hospital. Again it was all shiny and pretty without the decades of dirt embedded in between the tiles. The air smelled crisp and sanitary. The stench of despair had not yet seeped into its walls.

Trying not to raise suspicion, she made her way into the nurse’s break room. There was a line of lockers, all unlocked, of course in this day and age, that lined the north wall. She went over and took out a uniform. They were crisp white and starched. Seriously the uniform was pressed and starched flat as a board. Unlike the tumbled dried scrubs that every nurse wore in her age. She almost forgot the little hat that went with the uniform. Sal felt like she was dressing up for Halloween as a sexy nurse.

Looking in the mirror, it really hit her how much things had really changed. She was dressing up as a nurse in this ridiculous outfit because no one in 1967 would believe she was doctor.

Yet not a few decades later, nurses no longer had to wear dresses and women doctor graduates outnumbered male doctor graduates.

Yah, Sal was glad she had been born into her generation.

She walked out into the emergency room which was a third the size it was in her time. She guessed it was from far less crime related injuries. Plus there were about a half dozen more hospitals in the city in 1967 before budget cuts forced them to close and this ER to expand.

“I said STAT!” a young doctor bellowed. She knew that bellow. It was the Badger. All young and fit and without facial hair. Weird. By now she was getting used to the mind-bending age regression.

Sal couldn’t help but walk over. “Here, let me help you with that.”

The Badger turned around, his trademark scowl on his lips. “And who would you be?”

“The new nurse that is going to get your blood work back fast,” Sal said.

A smile spread across his lips as he flung his arms open wide. “See? See? Someone who understands!”

Sal grinned back. He had no idea. No idea he would revolutionize emergency and critical care medicine. No idea he would one day be her boss. She took the blood tubes and headed off.

True to her word, she stopped by the lab before coming back up and sitting in the stairwell. She knew what she was listening for. She’d heard it a thousand times before. That anguished scream of someone who had lost a loved one. Especially a child.

It made her skin crawl that she was sitting here waiting for a tragedy. What else could she do?

She didn’t have her own heartbroken blood. She now needed someone else’s. And she wasn’t about to intentionally break someone else’s heart. She needed to find someone that the universe had already done it for her.

Nibbling on a candy bar, which wow, had way more sugar than she’d ever eaten before, Sal waited…and waited.

Of course she’d picked the one day the ER was busy with mild flu victims and a kid falling out of a tree with his broken arm.

Funny how her life had become dependent on screams.

* * *

Tyr strode down the street. They could have ridden in one of those unwieldy contraptions called a “bus,” however with Lionel still working, there was no reason to have to endure that nauseating sensation. He preferred to walk.

Actually he preferred to have Hunter under him, but if their clothing was drawing so much attention, he could only imagine what crowd a horse and rider would gather.

He was so intent on his frustration that he did not even notice the three young thugs until he nearly ran into one.

“Watch out, Braveheart,” one of them snickered.

Tyr ignored the youth and went to brush past when he caught scent of fear. Abject terror. He turned to find Alex backing away, his face pale and his lower lip trembling.

Then he sensed the cruelty, arrogance and idiocy of the three young men. Tyr recognized the tattoo on their necks. They belonged to the gang that Alex had briefly been a part of. These were not the boys that thought they were men that they had encountered before. If they had been, they would not be speaking to him in such tones.

Now was time to see if any of the lessons he had taught Alex had sunk in.

Apparently they hadn’t as the teen continued his retreat. “Tyr?”

Oh no, young man. I will not save you this time. You must save yourself, Tyr thought but did not speak.

Instead he said. “You are Deadblood.”

That did seem to strengthen the youth as his back straightened and he stopped retreating.

“Look at the bendajo,” one of the boys sneered. “Alex, have you gone all Game of Thrones on us?”

Tyr ignored the youths and concentrated on Alex, sending him as much courage as he could. These teens were nothing compared to a beast and Alex had faced beasts.

But this gang was the beast of his time. Alex had fear beaten into him as a child. That kind of fear was difficult to eradicate.

Hopefully today they could dispose of most of it.

Tyr backed out of the way of the gang members.

“That’s right, puta,” one sneered at him, clearly not aware that Tyr could snap the boy in half, without blood magic.

* * *

Alex gulped. He’d been through some stuff since he’d left San Francisco. Some heavy stuff, but still those gang members made his belly quiver. He’d seen what they did to their friends. Let alone what they did to deserters.

But Tyr was right. He was Deadblood. Perhaps these gang members should be introduced to the concept.

He tried to remember everything the Dyn had taught him, but it was a jumble right now. And Alex didn’t even have his own bandolier. He had no blood to grab off his chest. He was going to have to do this with intent alone.

As the gang members continued to taunt him, Alex pulled in, cutting off the outside world. Their words didn’t matter. They no longer mattered as he sought his core.

Listening to his own heartbeat, Alex calmed himself. Intent was always the best when it was the purest. No anger. No fear. No retribution. Stillness was his friend. Odd how you needed to be the stillest when you geared up for a fight.

He could see without investing. The scene played out like a movie before him. Alex could sense the gang members were getting tired of taunting him especially when Alex was no longer responding.

It was the short one who charged first. He had a long knife. Not long enough.

Alex tapped into the ground around him. Filling each and every electron he was in contact with, full of the stability of the earth.

“Stop!” Alex shouted, flinging that edict across the air to the gang member.

With a look of confusion, the guy’s feet slowed, until he came to a stop, leaning forward, looking for all the world like he was going to fall onto his face, but the edict kept him hanging there.

His fellow gang members laughed, gripping their bellies, having fun at their friend’s expense because that was who they were. Alex could see that now. They had no discipline. No honor. Why had he been so afraid? They were nothing to him now.

Alex focused on the threesome’s leader. Bringing the strength of the air around him and the wind, Alex proclaimed the edict. “Go!”

This guy was tougher than the first, plus it went against the gang member’s intent to flee. And this one had a little more game.

That didn’t matter. Not when you had physics on your side. Alex imagined all the air around him, sucking into his chest, bathing the electrons with their strength.

“I said, go!”

This time the guy turned, but you could see the struggle on his face as he resisted the edict. Alex’s eyes flickered to Tyr. Would he help? But the tall man had his hand casually laid on the hilt of his sword, looking almost bored.

Alex opened himself up more than he ever had before, really allowing the energy to flow through him. He gathered the wind as he might fruit from a tree. He could feel how tangible that energy was. Before it had been an intellectual exercise, but now it was real. He might as well be holding it in his hands it was so real.

He smiled this time and with barely any effort whispered, “Go.”

The guy spun on his heel, charging down the street away from Alex.

He’d done it. He’d actually done it.

Alex turned his attention to the only gang member with free will.

He appraised the guy.

“Follow,” Alex whispered. Because this was within the guy’s natural intent, he turned on his heel and hightailed it out of there, running after the other gang member, arms flailing in the air.

Stepping forward, Alex came up to the “stopped” gang member, frozen in place. He looked the guy up and down. There were so many things he could do to him, but he also remembered Dyn’s adamant rule of doing no harm until forced to do harm.

“Tell Tito, I’m not his punk bitch anymore. Next time, next time I won’t be so forgiving.”

He could see the fear in the guy’s eyes.

“Release,” Alex stated.

The guy pitched forward, barely catching himself before he hit the pavement. Without even looking back at Alex, he ran away, careening between the pedestrians.

Alex turned to Tyr, a smile on his face but the tall man frowned.

“We take no pleasure in edicts,” he guffed then headed down the street.

Right, Alex forgot being a DeadBlood meant being a robot.

Doing a little skip as he caught up, Alex resolved to be a way more fun version of DeadBlood.

* * *

Sal sat on the step, waiting. What a boring day. Like B.O.R.I.N.G. She had gotten into emergency medicine for the rush. Heck that was probably why she was with Tyr, for the constant danger. So to sit here all day with nothing more to do than worry that her plan was crap was a little hard to take.

Occasionally a nurse or doctor would come by. Sal had grabbed a burned out cigarette and pretended to try and light it if anyone looked too closely. Funny, in a hospital, people looked the other way at smoking. How things had changed over the decades.

She’d snuck down to the cafeteria, grabbed some lunch. The chipped beef over noodles was the most exciting thing that had happened today.

Then she heard it. She knew by how hard the EMTs hit the ambulance doors, that they had a DOA. How fast the clickity clack of the gurney’s wheels on the tile floor told her there was still some hope. Maybe not hope but desperation.

Sal crept forward peering out the glass upper half of the door. She only caught the quickest glance of the gurney. She couldn’t see the patient, there were too many staff members crowded around. She could hear the shouts for the crash cart and a half dozen medications being ordered.

A woman’s wail cracked the air. Not any woman but a mother.

Sal’s heart sank just as it did each and every time she heard that sound. It was the worst sound a physician could hear. Quietly opening the door, Sal entered the ER. She probably could have come in with a full-scale marching band and no one would have noticed. Everyone’s focus was on the baby.

“I just… I just found him like that after his nap.”

It was a common occurrence. A horrible, shocking, tragic occurrence, but when working the ER a fairly common occurrence. Doctors were taught to disassociate from the tragedy. To put distance between themselves and their patients. They had to stay objective to be effective.

And Sal embraced that concept, except when it came to SIDS babies. How could your heart not break at the sight of that tiny still form?

A couple stood, shaking, just outside the ring of white coats. Finally that ring parted and the Badger walked out. Already he seemed to have a curmudgeon reputation, however at this moment his eyes were rimmed red and a tear streaked down his cheek.

“I’m sorry, but he’s gone,” the Badger stated, even his voice wobbling a bit.

The woman screamed and despite her husband trying to hold her up, she sank to her knees. The grief was just too heavy for him to hold back.

No matter the circumstances, even if the patient was clearly dead on arrival, sometimes with body parts missing or the skull crushed, the family still held out hope. Not until the final declaration by the doctor could they accept the fact the patient was really, truly gone.

Sal was there, kneeling next to the woman. “May I take your blood?”

The woman was beyond hearing, sobbing in hysterical gulps.

“Why?” the father asked. Usually the man held it together, then collapsed into a stupor once they were alone.

“It is a study we are conducting to help babies with this condition in the future.”

That was not necessarily a lie.

The father nodded. The woman didn’t resist at all as Sal put the tourniquet on the mother’s arm and drew the blood.

Sal released the tourniquet and put a cotton ball on the needle site.

“Thank you,” she whispered, trying to not intrude on the woman’s grief, but a hand lashed out, grabbing hers.

The woman was barely intelligible with the sobbing, but Sal got the gist of it between gasps of air. “You will find out what happened?”

Sal should lie to her. Tell her some story to cover her tracks, but looking into that woman’s forlorn eyes, she just couldn’t.

Squeezing the woman’s hand, Sal told her the truth. “Trust me, in a few decades we will know the risk factors and decrease these deaths by five hundred percent. Babies will be saved.”

The mother’s head fell to Sal’s shoulder, tears running down Sal’s white uniform. Normally Sal would try to break this embrace as quickly as possible. Not that she had urgent work, but that this type of raw emotion was uncomfortable to her.

Now though? After everything she had been through? A little compassion went a long way. She wrapped her arms around the woman, pulling her close.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Sal whispered as she kissed the top of the mother’s head. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Finally the woman’s husband extracted his wife, lifting her to her feet.

“Thank you,” he said, catching a sob in his throat.

Sal looked down at the blood that could be her gateway home.

“No, thank you.”

* * *

Tyr strode into Lionel’s laboratory. He could tell by the look on everyone’s face that they’d had no luck.

Lionel shook his head sadly. “I’ve checked everything. Her cell. Her IP address. Her laptop, but she just isn’t here, in our time.”

Though he’d thought he was ready for this news, Tyr felt his insides falter. He could not show it outwardly. He was DeadBlood.

“And your attempt to locate when they might be?” Tyr asked.

“The computer is working on it. There were a lot of variables,” Lionel said. “I have no idea if the answer is even going to be close to the truth.”

“We shall take that into consideration,” Tyr stated, turning away from the group.

His sister approached him, her heavy skirt swishing against the floor. “Tyr, can we talk?”

He simply ignored her. Why couldn’t he issue a disappear or vanish or go home edict?”

“Fine, then I will talk,” his sister said, putting her fist on her hip. “You’ve got to get a grip, Tyr. Mother is DeadBlood.”

How he wished he could close his ears. He did not want to know. Any of it. Tyr did glance over to Dyn who did not seem surprised.

“You knew?” he demanded.

His thane shook his head. “Just at the battle, not before. The Queen fell back from an attack and I caught her. I only realized then.”

Tyr snorted. At the least his thane had not betrayed him.

“What does this mean?” Alex asked.

Haviana turned to the teen. “DeadBloods are in theory not allowed to marry and bear children.”

“So how did the Queen get away with it? I mean, she came from a super duper royal family, right?”

Tyr turned away from them all, stalking to the back of the laboratory, yet no matter how far he got, he could still hear the damning words.

“Amongst the royals there are actually many families with DeadBloods,” Haviana explained.

This was news to him. Tyr looked to Dyn who seemed equally surprised. “How? A DeadBlood attends each birth to certify whether the child is Live or DeadBlood.”

Haviana gulped. “It is an old trick learned back during the Harrowing. Blood is drawn from the LiveBlood parent, then distilled into a serum. That serum is smeared over the baby before the DeadBlood does his assessment.”

Dyn nodded sagely as he always does. “Clever.”

“Ok, still not getting it,” Alex said.

Tyr cleared his throat. “A child has no real intent, especially a baby. Their aura is just a smear really. The LiveBlood serum mimics this hazy intent. Unless looking for it, a DeadBlood would declare a child treated with such a serum as LiveBlood.”

“That is how Mother and I were passed off.”

“You?” Tyr said, inflamed again. His sister risked his wrath, coming over, laying her hand on his arm. There was nothing there. She truly was DeadBlood.

“Then why…” Tyr couldn’t finish his sentence as his throat closed up. His eyes itched with unspent tears.

“Why were you not anointed as mother and I were?” Haviana asked.

Tyr could only nod. How had Haviana been spared the fate of DeadBlood and not him? Had his parents loved him so little?

His sister wasn’t able to answer as Lionel’s computer dinged.

“Oh crap…”

CHAPTER 3

Sal sat on a park bench staring down at the heartbroken blood she had collected. It lay heavy on her palm. Her heart heavy with sorrow. What had she done? Tricked a poor grieving mother into giving this blood?

It was such a cold-hearted, calculating thing to do that she thought Tyr would be proud.

Bile stung the back of her throat. If this was what being a DeadBlood was like, Sal was glad she was not one.

All around her people swarmed the park. Families were playing Frisbee while college kids a few yards down were playing a rather intense game of Frisbee football. Couples walked by, hand in hand. Lovers made out under the willow trees that surrounded the little lake dotted with paddleboats.

No one knew that a beast walked amongst them.

The sun was getting ready to set as an older couple drove by on a tandem bike. Their cycling perfectly in synch. A tender moment after what looked like a lifetime together.

Sal had come back to the park. Perhaps the beast was getting desperate and was going to go for the statue after all. It was right over that knoll.

Sal should know. She’d faced the beast there. Well, not so much faced as drawn the beast away from the dying Tyr. But even that wasn’t true. Tyr was faking most of his injuries to lure the beast in for the kill.

How many mistakes had she made so far? She’d used too much intent and nearly descended already. What would happen to her without Tyr to fix her mis-steps?

As the light began to fade, families packed up and the Park staff called the last of the paddleboats in.

A stillness started to descend over the Park as the crowds bled out the gates.

A security guard came over. “You alright, ma’am?”

Sal nodded. “Yes, just waiting for someone.” Or something.

“Okay, but the gates are locked after sunset.”

“I know. Just a little while longer.”

The security guard shrugged. “Your call,” he said as he pulled his collar up to protect against the evening breeze.

Sal sat as silence took over the park. No more saxophone played by a street musician for change in his instrument case. No more shouts of mother’s searching for their sons who had snuck off into the woods to play sword fight with sticks.

She breathed in the air. It smelled like her childhood. Before her dad got sick.

Would she be up to this? Could she face down the beast?

Well, she was about to find out as a woman dressed in black with heavy kohl eyeliner walked up to her. She had that distant stare of a person under an edict.

“He wishes to speak with you,” the woman said, indicating over the ridge.

Fear gripped Sal. This was it. Her grand end game.

It didn’t feel so grand now. She almost wanted to wave down the security guard but she knew what would befall him. Like so many other guards in the past. He would have no chance against the beast.

Neither would she. She only had the blood to protect her.

Would it be enough?

* * *

Alex stared at Lionel’s computer screen but it was just a confusing blob of gobbledygook. He had no idea how the physicist was making any sense out of the glob of data.

“Okay, I’m pretty sure they landed in the late sixties, early seventies.”

“Of what era?” Dyn asked.

“Sorry, this century. They weren’t knocked that far, now with the distance ratio compared to blast --”

Tyr held up his hand. “How does this help us?”

“Well…well…” Lionel stammered.

Alex knew how much Tyr hated stammering. He knew before the older DeadBlood frowned that he was going to frown.

Lionel squirmed under Tyr’s disapproval. “Not sure, but this, this could be super helpful,” he stated.

“And what exactly am I looking at?” Tyr asked, his frustration clear in his tone.

“I think they landed in Haight-Ashbury district.”

“How could you divine that?” Dyn asked.

Lionel pointed to a spike on the screen. “There was an electrical anomaly reported there at exactly three seconds after the time you guys said they entered the vortex.”

Everyone leaned in to look at the screen. Lionel had changed it to a map view with a large ring flashing brightly, pointing out the area the physicist was discussing. “Right there. In 1967. It knocked out a few blocks’ power.”

“You know this for certain?” Tyr asked.

“Well, nothing is for certain, not even relativity,” Lionel said then chuckled, apparently that was some physicist humor. When no one responded the same way, Lionel continued, “Anyway, we had that same phenomena when you and the beast landed here the first time. I had my algorithm scan the historical records for something similar and this is what it came up with.”

“Is there any way for us to go back and gather Salista?” Haviana asked.

“We shall, or we shall die trying,” Tyr growled.

* * *

The Goth chick was looking a little impatient so Sal steeled herself and rose from the park bench to follow her.

Every nerve in her body told her to turn away. To wait for Tyr. He would come wouldn’t he? But how could he know where she was?

No, she had to do this.

So she followed the Goth chick, who clearly was under an edict because no one voluntarily wore four inch heels on this uneven ground. The chick nearly bit it several times on the slope down to the lakeside.

A dim red glowed in the forest just beyond the boathouse. This was all too eerily familiar to her. The last time she was here, she had only survived by Tyr’s good graces and quick action.

How would she fare this time?

The red glow brightened as the beast approached. Soon red filled her vision. She forgot how intoxicating the power’s prowess was. How nauseating his presence could be. Again, she wanted to run, but couldn’t.

Finally the beast exited the forest. Tyr’s brother, Vitalis had a full mane, except on the side where she had burnt him. On that side, the skin rippled, hairless, revealing a very human ear.

Since the last time she’d battled him, his dreg locks were filled with vials of intent blood. He was fully stocked it appeared. She’d had no chance against him when he was depleted. Now, this was going to be like him shooting fish in a barrel and she was the fish.

Damn.

Vitalis snarled. She wasn’t entirely sure that was what he wanted to do. Was he finally losing his human intelligence? Was he descending past the point of being able to wield blood magic?

God, could she get that lucky?

Not that lucky apparently as Vitalis licked his lips and hissed, “You have what I need.”

Sal didn’t trust her voice so she just nodded holding out the vial of blood. “I will give it to you on the condition that this woman leaves and you won’t prevent me from following you into the vortex.”

The beast growled, low and menacing. Guess he didn’t like taking orders.

Too bad.

The beast stalked forward, his head low, his tail swishing behind him. She could see his thigh muscles ripple. He was about to attack. She’d seen it too many times before and without Tyr’s blade to protect her?

Yikes.

Sal dropped the vial to the soft grass, then lifted her foot over it. “Neither of you can get to me in time. I will destroy it.”

The beast stopped, mid-stride. His front foot lifted in the air. Clearly he did not want that vial damaged.

She tried to keep the shaking from being too obvious even though she was quivering down to her core. She’d learned with beasts, go big or go home, or you know, get eaten.

Finally Vitalis grunted, sweeping his long mane, indicating the Goth chick should make her exit. Like a golem, the woman walked back up the slope. Sal waited until the woman was out of sight before she picked up the vial.

This was one of the most ridiculous leaps of faith she had ever made.

Sal tossed the vial to the beast.

Now her life was in Vitalis’ hand.

* * *

Tyr paced behind the group. They knew where they needed to go, so Tyr said go, but Dyn had concerns, but didn’t his thane always have concerns?

“We must away,” Tyr growled, not bothering to hide his frustration.

“Tyr, we only have enough of the bloods for one more trip back,” Dyn responded. “We must make this count.”

“It does not matter the exact location,” Tyr shot back. “They would have moved off from there. We can track them as long as we land somewhere in San Francisco.”

This truly was getting tedious. He had the greatest respect for his thane, but was old age making him too cautious? At the least the tension had been too high for his sister to try and discuss their family issues.

A very thin silver lining.

“The reports from 1967 are anecdotal at best. I mean I’ve got it narrowed down to a four block radius,” Lionel explained.

“Good enough for me, “Alex said. The teen seemed as eager to get on with the hunt as Tyr did.

Dyn put his hand up to stop them from leaving. “I believe the place they landed has some significance.”

“Of what?” Tyr blurted knowing he should not have opened his mouth as soon as he shut it.

Dyn turned to face Tyr. “If I knew I would have stated it. However the beast,”

“Vitalis,” Haviana corrected. “He might be descended, but he is still our brother.”

Spoken as someone who hadn’t hunted beasts all her life. “Doesn’t that make it worse?” Tyr asked. “To know that he had a soul in there, yet still does what he does?”

Haviana’s cheeks flushed red. “He saved his unborn child.”

“For his own selfish purposes, sister,” Tyr responded. “If you think of him as your brother, it will stay your sword when it is most needed.”

Surprisingly Haviana did not back down under his withering stare. He’d backed kings off with that stare.

“You think me weak? Naïve?”

“Yes,” Tyr answered.

“I have been trained, Tyr. Mother was trained. We have all been trained since the Harrowing in case our skills were needed.”

“There is training and there is battle, Haviana. Until you have been anointed in black blood, do not talk to me of sparing a beast. Feel their claws across your chest, then speak to me of their nobility.”

That got to her. Haviana’s lower lips trembled and her eyes waxed with tears.

She might be his sister, but she had to learn.

Alex was the one who stepped in between them. “Guys, I get it. Sibling rivalry, but Salista needs us. So stow it, okay?”

A voice of reason, funny it came from the youngest amongst them.

Dyn turned to the physicist. “Research that area, Lionel. Vitalis needed something from it. During the vortex and the explosion, he somehow retained the location. Find out why.”

“You got it,” Lionel said, looking over his lowered glasses.

“So we may leave now?” Tyr asked more tired then frustrated.

“Yes.”

“Then let us board a noisy contraption and be away,” Tyr stated, feeling the energy come back into his limbs.

“Um, guys, that is the Haight-Ashbury and today is the gay pride parade.”

“What in the world would gays need a pride parade for?” Dyn asked.

* * *

Wow, just wow, Alex thought. He’d forgotten how feudal, backwards a society Tyr and Dyn came from. He cleared this throat before explaining, “Um, gays have value. That is why they have a parade, to show it off.”

Dyn frowned. “What a ridiculous notion.”

Okay, how to describe how completely un-PC that was. Especially in San Francisco. They couldn’t go into the Haight-Ashbury district with attitudes like this. They would get mobbed and not even blood magic could save them against about ten thousand boa-wearing parade-goers.

“Guys, I know that you come from a different time, but gays are considered people here. Real people, who cares about their sexual orientation?”

“Exactly,” Tyr said. “So why the parade?” He pointed to the screen where Lionel had pictures of the event up. There were enough rainbow flags to choke an elephant.

“They’ve had a tough road so this is their celebration of who they are.”

Dyn rolled his eyes shaking his head. “Of course they have value. Of course they deserve our respect. One of our greatest warriors during the Harrowing was gay. What does it matter? Tyr’s father, the King has officiated over a hundred gay weddings.”

Alex took a step back. Okay, he was not expecting that news. So the DeadBloods weren’t homophobic, they were the opposite. They were so accepting they didn’t see why anyone here was making a big deal of it. Got it.

“Well then, we are good to go. Apparently gays made great strides in your time.”

The older DeadBlood still looked confused.

“Alright, the take away is that the area we need to get to is closed off to traffic so we are going to have to hoof it most of the way.”

“Then we best start now,” Tyr stated, heading to the door.

No great surprise there.

“Good luck!” Lionel said before he turned back to his screen.

When you were dealing with beasts, you’d better have more than luck going for you.

CHAPTER 4

Tyr had never seen such a thing in his life and he had been to the High Circus which was only held every fifty years. This parade was… well, exuberant was the best term he could come up with.

He did not understand the significance of the multicolored flags, Alex said they were “rainbow” flags, but there were enough for any commanding army to fly at the head of their regiments.

And the dress? As bright and colorful as a field of wildflowers. Which Tyr did not mind, people could dress the way they wished, however the boas seemed perhaps a bit over the top, but maybe that was just Tyr.

Despite what Alex had thought about his time, sexual orientation or dress for that matter was not an issue. It was not uncommon to find a count or duke in a corseted dress upon arrival to a castle.

There was an old saying that had survived the ages. “To each his own.” Apparently that had not sunk in quite the way it had after the Harrowing. Unless you were LiveBlood trying to descend, Tyr tried to live by that adage. Except the boas. Those still seemed extreme, especially the zebra striped ones, but who was Tyr to judge?

Alex had also not been exaggerating the level of disruption the parade was creating. The crowd made even walking difficult. They were bumping into what Alex called a “Drag Queen” every two feet. Tyr did not know in which land they arose, but for the most part these royalty were very tall and very muscular. Perhaps an Amazonian civilization? And it appeared they had all traveled to the fair city of San Francisco.

What he did know was that he tired of bowing to so many of them. His hips began to complain.

As he bowed to yet another queen in leopard print dress and black stockings with a seam up the back, Tyr looked over to Dyn.

His thane gave a faint grin. “Do they crown their entire population?”

Tyr chuckled. “Perhaps they come from an island, city-state?”

That got a laugh from his thane until he bumped into another queen. Then the smile fell from his face.

“Maybe we should just wait it out?” Alex suggested, but Tyr felt an urgency in his belly. The beast was afoot. No matter what age, Vitalis had something planned. He might have been interrupted, but the beast would correct that soon enough.

“No, we must press on.”

But just as he said that a cacophony of horns sounded. On the street a group of “Dykes on Bikes” rode past. Again with the muscles? These revelers were in far better shape than the average men he had seen in the city.

He did not know what a wall to retain water had to do with the severe looking women on the motorcycles, but Tyr had long since given up trying to discern the logic of this era.

After the bikes, a marching band came down the street. Its cheerleaders using their batons in quite a provocative manner.

Tyr was embarrassed for his sister. She had been raised in such privilege he was not sure how she would handle such behavior.

However when he looked back, Haviana was all smiles, clapping as the band marched past.

He of course knew of his sister, she was the Princess of the Realm, yet he realized that he did not know her at all. What other secrets did his family harbor?

Would he survive the beast’s grand plan only to succumb to his family’s treachery?

* * *

Sal watched as the beast curled a claw around the vial then used his teeth to uncap it. Vitalis was quite resourceful for a guy two steps away from being a lion.

He mixed the blood with several other vials.

The red which she had thought was excessive only grew worse. The red seemed to seep into her soul, tarnishing it. If staying was not an absolute and complete necessity, she would have fled this evil, evil ceremony.

The beast’s eyes though glowed, sparkling in his element. It was like he and the heartbroken blood were born to be together. He relished the torment of the blood as it mingled with the other bloods.

Then a flare shot up from the spot, illuminating the entire sky in stark red. She remembered Tyr mentioning that going forward in time was the most difficult blood magic to cast. Vitalis seemed up to it though. He was an old pro.

The vortex swirled around the beast, blurring his features. She could not tarry. Still afraid the beast would try to double cross her and eat her for dinner, Sal inched her way forward. Once he was fully in the vortex she should be safe, just as she had been safe from the nuclear bomb.

In theory any way.

The vortex grew faster and faster until she couldn’t see past it. A loud pop announced the beast entering the time vortex. Sal didn’t waste any time. She rushed forward, leaping into the vortex.

Even though she knew what would happen, her guts still felt wrenched out of her abdomen. The few seconds she was caught in the vortex felt like enough time to drive her mad with its intense redness.

She clung to the sight of Tyr. That they would be reunited. That she could tell him that she forgave him. After what she had done, she had to. She’d only gotten a taste of what it might be to be a DeadBlood. The burden. The obligation. The impossible choices you had to make.

Tyr.

Then as suddenly as she had been consumed by the red she was discarded by it.

Sal hit the pavement. Yes, she’d been dropped often enough out of a portal to now know the difference between the ground and cement. She rolled, trying to absorb the shock and spare her shoulder.

Only once she stopped moving did she open her eyes and people backed away from her.

“Are you okay, darling?” one man dressed in high heels and zebra boa asked.

Dang it, there were a lot of handle barred mustaches and peace signs along with tie die. Had the beast screwed up? Had the vortex really transported them through time? Or had it just dumped them half a city away but still in 1967?

Cheering filled her ears. What the heck was going on? Why were there so many people around?

Why were the streets crammed with people? 1967 had not been this crowded. Had it?

Then she saw a tinge of red. The beast.

“Get back!” she screamed, but who could hear her above the crowd. Sal began scrambling backwards, crab walking, banging into rather shapely calves as she tried to flee.

But it was no use. The beast had her scent. Only when the beast let out a great roar did anyone seem to notice him.

Then, oh then people scrambled to get out of the way.

* * *

Tyr spun to Dyn. Their eyes locked. There was no reason to ask the question, Dyn had heard it too.

The beast.

But the parade was pure chaos. The sounds beat upon his ears, making it difficult the single out the beast’s roar.

“This way!” his sister shouted, pulling her sword, pointing down the street.

Tyr, having no better bead, followed his older sister.

Up ahead, people fled the sidewalk, fleeing into the street, nearly getting run over by a multicolored car that Alex dubbed a “bug.” This century was so very odd.

“Get out!” Dyn yelled trying to get the crowd to vacate the area. If the beast was in this direction, it wasn’t going to be pretty. Tyr could acutely remember Alcatraz Island and the lives lost there.

Panic spread through the crowd. Most did not even know what they should be afraid of, but fear spread like wildfire.

Unfortunately now they had a panicked mob between them and the beast.

Tyr turned and took Dyn’s hand. The older man was not surprised. In turn his thane grabbed Haviana’s hand. She nodded, sheathing her sword, taking Alex’s hand.

“What’s going on?” the teen said, shirking back.

“We must clear these people from the street,” Tyr responded. “Together.”

A single DeadBlood was a force to reckon with. Four, linked together? That was a force of nature.

“Calm,” Tyr stated which was echoed by the other three. Immediately people stopped their panicked rush. “Walk,” Tyr instructed, again repeated by the other DeadBloods.

In synch, the crowd turned on their heel and in an orderly fashion exited to the south. The sidewalk was nearly clear when he heard a scream.

Salista’s scream.

* * *

Sal had hoped to have gained some courage since the last time she faced Vitalis, but that was not the case. He had jumped from a balcony, landing in front of her. She could smell his foul breath.

From here she could see that he did not have a mane per se. It was just dredlocked human hair. Somehow that made it all the worse.

She backed a step although how that would help her she had no idea. She’d seen the beast kick Tyr’s ass. What was she going to do? And if she tried to use an edict, she risked descending, again. That had not been so fun. Death might be preferable.

The beast snarled at her, flashing his four-inch fangs. Showboat.

She had nothing. No weapon. No blood. No intent.

Her only hope was that he was stuck in this time forever, where he couldn’t do any harm.

Then there was that flick of the tail. His tell. An attack was imminent.

Closing her eyes, Sal really didn’t want to see what was coming, she cringed back.

A roar filled the air. Red beat through her eyelids. So this was what it felt like to die. However her life was not flashing before her eyes. Fear was an all-consuming cocoon.

Then she heard a war cry.

She’d know that voice anywhere. Her eyelids flew open to find Tyr leaping at the beast. Vitalis tried to change trajectory, but it was too late. Tyr’s blade found his shoulder and ripped into the muscle.

Bleeding, the beast landed harmlessly at her side.

Tyr, being Tyr, didn’t stop. He hacked at his descended brother. The beast turned, engaging in the fight. Then Dyn was there. Then surprisingly Haviana, then Alex.

The street was abandoned as the four fought the beast back, forcing him into an alley. Taking the fight away from Sal.

She checked her body. No injury. How could she have been that close to death to be unscathed now?

Tyr. And the others.

Her saviors.

Sal knew she should probably get up and give chase, but you know what? This pavement was feeling pretty good right about now.

* * *

Alex, even at full run was having a hard time keeping up with the others. The beast had given up on fighting off the four of them and had leapt up onto a fire escape and was leaping from building to building, gaining altitude.

“The roof!” Tyr shouted, abruptly changing course, heading into the apartment building.

The door was locked. Alex went to buzz someone when Tyr just put his elbow through the glass, shattering it. That was another way to go.

The tall DeadBlood burst through the opening, striking for the stairwell. Dyn, Haviana and Alex gave chase. The guy was on like heavy-duty steroids or something.

Actually Alex knew what it was. The beast had threatened Salista. No one, but no one got to do that except apparently Tyr.

They raced up the stairs, hauling their weight along the guardrail, advancing floor by floor until they hit the roof door. It too was locked. Tyr couldn’t put his elbow through that one.

Instead he laid his palm on the handle. “Open.”

That wasn’t a request. It was an edict. Alex felt like opening up it had been so powerful.

The door swung open and Tyr charged through it.

He ran straight for the buildings edge, threw himself into the air and landed on the next building.

Dyn and Haviana gave chase. Alex gulped. This was crazy.

But then again that was kind of the definition of being a DeadBlood apparently.

He sucked in a long breath and followed suit.

A few weeks ago Alex had ditched gym class to avoid those standardized tests which he always failed. Now he was going to leap buildings in a single bound. Yah, his life had changed that was for sure.

Haviana and Dyn made it to the other side. However unlike Tyr they had whispered an edict, “fly.”

Alex was glad that he wasn’t the only one who didn’t think they could make it on their own.

He ran as fast as he could and as his boot hit the ledge, he too whispered, “Fly.”

Not to his body. His body did not naturally want to fly. However the air around him did want to lift so the edict was to the air around him. He could feel his body lifted and carried over to the other rooftop. He landed a bit hard, but he’d take it.

Then he was sprinting again.

Tyr flung himself off the rooftop, but this time it was further than the last. The older DeadBlood shouted “fly,” but it was too late. He didn’t get enough lift and crashed into a fire escape.

Alex went to the edge and looked down the street. The beast was a good five buildings ahead of them. There was no way to catch him.

He shook his head. Tyr’s chin dropped to his chest. They had lost the beast.

* * *

Sal sat on the street. It was so calm. In the distance were sirens, but for now the sidewalk was empty except her. She was still trying to convince her body that she had survived.

It had seemed so certain she was going to die, her legs still weren’t working very well.

“Salista!” a shout came from behind her. She spun around to find Tyr charging toward her.

Her muscles suddenly responded, lifting her to her feet. She ran into his arms.

He smelled of glorious sweat and leather. Sal breathed it in as his arms wrapped around her making her feel the safest she’d ever felt.

“How did you find me?” she asked tilting her chin up.

He didn’t answer, instead he kissed her. Like really kissed her. Like “get a room” kissed her. She gave herself over to the kiss, taking it into her soul. For a guy who had such limited experience, he was a quick learner.

“Geez,” she heard Alex complain.

Sal didn’t care. She was with Tyr. Nothing else mattered.

Finally she broke off the kiss.

“I am so sorry,” Tyr said, surprisingly a tear rolling down his cheek. She wiped it away with her thumb.

“Don’t be,” Sal whispered, kissing his cheek where the tear had been. “I’m the one who is sorry. I forgive you. Completely and totally. I love you and nothing is going to change that.”

Tears streaked down Tyr’s stubbled cheek. “I do not deserve such a witch, Salista.”

She hugged him tighter. “Don’t worry, I’ll make you work for it.”

“Oh gross,” Alex said behind her.

To her surprise she felt tears streaking down her cheeks as Tyr kissed her again. This time it was gentle, tender. His own apology.

* * *

While Tyr turned to the others to hammer out a strategy to move forward, he did not release his hold on Salista. He needed to have her physically next to him. There was so much to discuss with her. To share with her. But it would have to wait with the beast afoot.

They had moved several blocks to avoid the police response to the beast’s appearance.

He could feel her chest move up and down as she breathed. A flash of her dead on the street intruded on his thoughts. No. He had gotten there in time and would never again allow her to be in that much danger.

But as a DeadBlood could he truly fulfill that promise?

They lived a dangerous life. A life she had chosen. Did he not love her for her courage?

“Tyr?” Dyn asked.

“Sorry, yes?”

“I propose that we head back to Lionel’s laboratory to try to discern what this area’s significance to Vitalis is.”

Tyr nodded, leaning his head over, cupping Salista’s head. If only they lived in a world where they never had to be parted.

“Then we walk this way?” Haviana asked, turning west.

“I think we can get a cab,” Alex said. “I’m kind of done with these boots.”

Yes, Tyr could feel the teen’s pain. It could take months to break in a new pair.

Alex went to the curb and waved down a cab. It was one of those larger cars yet the teen called it a “mini-van.” So odd.

“Wait, that’s a Kia…” Salista said next to him.

“So? You getting snobby on me, sis?” Alex asked.

“No, I just mean, we’re in the future, or the same or whatever?”

Tyr hugged her tighter. She seemed more disoriented than he’d hoped. “Yes, we are in your era.”

Salista sagged against him. “Oh thank god. I thought we were all stuck in 1967.”

“Why would you think that?” Alex asked.

Salista waved at the street. “The tie die? Mustaches?”

Alex chuckled. “No, sis, that was just the gay pride parade. I admit it was pretty psychedelic.”

Salista patted Tyr on his chest, sending a shot of heat further south. “There really is a God, she said, laying her cheek against his chest.”

CHAPTER 5

Sal sat across from Lionel. Tyr stood behind her, his hand on her shoulder. It was like he had lost her and now needed physical reassurance she was still there. Sal wasn’t knocking it. She caught his other hand and interlaced her fingers with his.

She had heard of true love. She had always sneered at it. Like the notion was a contrivance. Now that she felt it, she needed to go apologize to about a gazillion Facebook friends.

Lionel was rambling on. Everyone else was nodding their heads like they understood him. Maybe she should pay a little more attention to the conversation and a little less day dreaming about what she was going to do with Tyr once they left here.

“I’m sorry, Lionel,” Sal said. “Can you catch me up?

“I scoured the records,” Lionel explained. “For anything that might be of interest of the Beast. There’s nothing nuclear at all in the Haight-Ashbury district. Nothing. I quadruple checked.”

“And any event of great sorrow?” Dyn asked.

“Nothing in modern times,” Lionel said then stopped. “I mean there were some serious gay bashings back in the day, but nothing of the level that would produce enough heartbroken blood for him to get back home.”

Haviana shook her head. “He came here for something specific, right? Not just heartbroken blood. He could potentially find that anywhere in the city, correct?”

Sal had very little opinion of Tyr’s older sister back in his land. But the more she got to know the woman, the more she liked her. However each time the woman spoke, Tyr frowned, shooting daggers over to his sister.

What was up with that?

She glanced to Tyr and the frown evaporated, transforming into a smile. He kissed the top of her head. Oh no, he wasn’t getting off the hook that easily. They would definitely talk about this later. After of course she had her way with him.

Dyn nodded. “There is something about his four block radius that is important to Vitalis, you must dig deeper.”

“Or further back,” Alex said.

Everyone turned to look at her brother.

* * *

Alex gulped, he hated it when he was in the spotlight. Dyn and Tyr’s gaze were like laser beams. It felt as if they could see right through him to his soul and found it wanting.

“Well?” Tyr prompted.

“I just…” Alex coughed, trying to cover his nervousness. He’d just jumped buildings, you’d think he could talk in front of his thanes. “In school we learned about local history. About how San Francisco was first a Spanish mission.”

Sal nodded, she had learned the same thing. That stupid “build a mission” project nearly brought her and her mother to blows. Alex had lucked out. By his time they had those mission kits. You just had to paint some Styrofoam. No biggie.

“And?” Tyr urged.

“Well, I kind of got into it and did some of my own research and not everything was quite as nicey-nicey as the history books portray.”

“Such as?” Dyn asked. Now when Dyn asked, it sounded like a request rather than an edict.

“Well, the missionaries were pretty good to the locals. The place was huge back in the day. The mission grounds sprawled for over a hundred miles.”

“And this is tragic because?” Haviana asked. Guess being kind of rude ran in the family.

“Then the gold rush happened and well, they were a raunchier crowd. They wanted the local tribe’s land. The Ohlones.”

“Alex, speed this up,” Salista urged. Guess it ran in her family as well.

“49ers slaughtered most of the tribe. Most had not yet been baptized so they could not be buried in the church’s cemetery.”

Lionel’s fingers were racing over his keys. “Got it….”

“And?” Tyr asked rather pointedly. Alex was glad to see the older DeadBlood’s frustration.

“And…” Lionel took a deep breath. “And they were buried where the current Haight-Ashbury district is located.”

Alex nodded, he thought that was the case but wasn’t sure. He was glad that his hunch had been correct.

Now what to do about it?

* * *

Tyr hated to be away from Salista, but his anticipation was too great. He had to pace. Back and forth in front of Lionel’s desk.

“Dude, you realize that isn’t helping right?” the physicist complained.

Yet, Tyr did think it helped. The man did have a tendency to drag things out.

The door burst open. The swish of blades being pulled from their scabbards filled the room.

It appeared to simply be a student. Although the beast was cunning, using his human thralls to gain access to many places.

“Yes, Terman? Isn’t it?” Lionel asked as the student’s eyes dilated to the point of black.

“Um, yah, Um…”

“Little preoccupied, Terman,” Lionel said, indicating the man should go back out the door.

“But it’s about my final exam. I think you mis-graded it by ten points.”

“Fine,” Lionel said. “I’ll give them to you, now go.”

“Really?” the dark-haired student said, apparently his greed supplanted his fear. “Because that would be great.”

Lionel nodded, indicating with his hands for the student to leave. “I believe that brings you from a low ‘C’ to a low ‘B,’ but only if you leave in the next five seconds.”

“Well, I was hoping maybe you would reconsider being my thesis advisor,” the student urged.

“Don’t push it, Terman,” Lionel warned. The student did an odd half-bow then scurried away, slamming the door behind him.

“Great,” Lionel huffed. “I already have a weird enough reputation on campus.”

Tyr didn’t quite understand what the physicist meant until he looked around the room. Four swords were still drawn. Yes, in this day and age it would be considered odd. Although Tyr was proud that Alex had drawn on the unknown threat. He was well on his way to becoming a DeadBlood.

“Lionel?” Salista asked.

“Yes, right, okay, back to the Native American slaughter,” the physicist said, pushing his glasses up. “On it.”

Tyr paced back to Salista, running his finger along her shoulders. She smiled at him, grabbing his hand, kissing his fingertips.

Lionel had best hurry because neither Tyr’s desire for revenge nor his love of Salista could be delayed much longer.

* * *

Sal leaned over Lionel’s shoulder, helping to guide his research. She was sure it was bugging the physicist, but she had a better understanding of the beast and his wants.

“This has got to be it,” Sal said. “He must want those Native American bodies. But why?”

Dyn frowned. “It could not be…”

Tyr turned sharply to his thane. “What?”

“The ancient bones? Bones?”

Then Tyr’s face drained of color as well.

“What is it?” Haviana asked.

“Ancestral bones contain some of the most potent blood magic.”

“But there’s no blood,” Alex correctly stated.

“No,” Dyn said. “Blood magic is just a general term. The correct term for what we wield is Praxis. Blood contains intent, but bones store it. Over centuries.”

“Even millennia,” Tyr added.

“But they would have to be our ancestor’s bones to matter, right?” Haviana asked.

Tyr and Dyn both nodded.

“But if those bones are connected to us?” Tye suggested. “Then they could have explosive potential. They would augment any blood by a hundred or even a thousand fold.”

Salista sat back down. “Well, how would we know?”

Lionel’s fingers flew again. “I can do a blood line trace and see if you have any Ohlone ancestors.”

Haviana stepped forward. “I am our family’s chronicler.”

* * *

Tyr was not glad for much that his sister was here, but for this he was grateful. Living the life of a DeadBlood he hadn’t had much use for his family’s history.

She sat down next to the physicist who studied her out of the corner of his eye. Good luck with that.

From what he knew of Haviana, she had rejected every suitor who had come to the castle even before his birth.

Now though, Tyr understood it better. She was DeadBlood. She would have to be on guard. She clung tightly to her family’s secret. Could he have done the same?

The thought soured his stomach.

“Hey,” Salista said, rising up from her chair. “We’re having a hard enough time finding out this information. How did Vitalis know?”

Dyn stepped forward. “Long before his descent, Vitalis was fascinated by such things. He was intrigued by his ancestry and combed all of the libraries that had information that pre-dated the Harrowing.”

“He did?” Tyr asked.

His thane nodded. “Yes. I kept trying to tell you that boy was going to descend with or without your birth, Tyr. His ambition was well seeded before being disinherited.”

Tyr took a step back. “This…this changes everything.”

He could not even begin to image the shame that could be shed if this were true. If Vitalis had been dabbling in intent before Tyr’s DeadBlood birth ruined his life, then perhaps, just perhaps he did not need to carry the world’s worries upon his shoulders.

Dyn shook his head. “You just refused to believe that Vitalis’ fall was not your doing.”

“So?” Haviana said stepping forward. “Is it only going to take Tyr 30 years to listen to me?”

Tyr frowned at his sister. These two things were entirely different. “Perhaps,” he stated. “If you are lucky.”

That got a grin from his older sister. It was so odd to think of her as family. For so long she had belonged to a life that was not his to live.

If asked a week ago, Tyr would have claimed that he had no true family. He had only Dyn and his DeadBlood brothers. Now though, had all of that changed?

Did his family not resent him for the beast that Vitalis had become?

“Holy!” Lionel exclaimed from his computer. “Bingo, and I mean, B.I.N.G.O.”

* * *

Sal rushed over to the screen. Clearly there was tension between brother and sister, but when wasn’t there? Alex and she fought more than they connected.

Lionel pointed to a rather long and winding family tree. “There it is people. There it is.”

There was one “node” of the tree that was highlighted. A Mimmiwee TrueEagle. Apparently she had survived the 49er’s attack because she was visiting the mission the night of the massacre. She went on to have five sons. The line meandered its way to Tyr’s family.

“So it is true,” Dyn whispered. No one seemed ready to talk about it.

Sal looked to Tyr and Dyn. They looked defeated. Even Haviana seemed to have the wind knocked out of her.

“Okay, this is bad,” Sal said. “I get it, but I’m not sure why all the doom and gloom.”

“Ancestral bones this old?” Tyr suggested.

Haviana brushed her hair back with her hand. “After a slaughter like this?”

“They would be most potent,” Dyn concluded.

“How potent?” Alex asked.

“Remember the nuclear bomb?” Tyr offered.

Alex nodded.

“Worse than that.”

Alex didn’t ask any more questions.

But Sal had plenty for the both of them. “Why didn’t he go for these first then?”

Dyn was the only one who seemed able to answer. “Because using bones such as these could create a tear in the space/time veil. He could very well collapse all of the timelines atop each other.”

Okay, that seemed like a pretty good reason to go for a nuclear bomb first as strange as that sounded.

“Fine,” Sal said, slapping her legs. “You guys have got to get over whatever bizarre defeatist thing you’ve got going on. Vitalis doesn’t even have the bone yet, so let’s man up.”

* * *

Tyr draped his arm over Salista’s shoulder and gave a squeeze. She was right. Even though she did not know the all of it.

If she did, Salista probably would not be quite so gung-ho. The all of it involved a kingdom that no longer existed.

The only other time a beast had obtained an ancestral bone, only half as old as these, he had used it to destroy his home kingdom. It was gone, just gone. The buildings, the people, the animals. Everything was just gone. A strange flickering light hovered over the area for decades until it finally burned itself out.

The entire lands were still under quarantine and that had been over two centuries ago.

How could Vitalis even be considering this? Especially if he had been dabbling in intent before Tyr’s birth? Tyr had always assumed that Vitalis’ bitterness and recklessness had been directed at Tyr. Who did such things without an inciting reason?

Haviana came up from behind him and laid her hand on his arm. “He was never right, Tyr. Never.”

That gave him little solace though. Vitalis was still after the bones. Still intent on destroying not only his home kingdom, but perhaps the world. All the worlds.

* * *

Alex was so far behind the curve on this one, he didn’t even bother to catch up.

Instead he forged ahead. “So what’s the plan then. We have a plan, right?”

Dyn and Tyr looked to one another. Apparently they didn’t.

“Well, the first thing I think we need to do,” Salista stated. “Is to figure out where the heck those bones can be accessed. That area has pretty much been concreted over for about a century.”

“There’s not even community gardens or anything,” Alex added feeling like he might contribute to the discussion in some small way.

“Lionel, anything in the records on where exactly the remains were buried?” Salista asked.

“Sorry, no.”

“No?” Tyr asked.

“I think half the population thought it wasn’t a big deal. There was a lot, I mean a lot of bigotry back then and the other half of the population was so ashamed that they didn’t want the slaughter a matter of public record.”

That sucked. Not that it hurt them now, it just sucked that his country used to think like that. And he got upset about cops pulling over Latinos for “Driving While Brown.”

“Then how are we going to track them down?” Haviana asked.

“Thanks for asking,” Lionel said, cracking his knuckles, making quite a show of it, apparently for Tyr’s older sister. “The records may not say much, however the local Native American tribe has been making noise for decades about a holy site they want reclaimed.”

“Where?” Tyr asked. Always to the point that DeadBlood.

Lionel brought up a map and continued talking, ignoring Tyr’s rather specific question.

“Apparently the local Native Americans continued a verbal history of the event and of the location of the bodies.”

“Where?” Tyr growled.

Lionel sighed. “You really won’t cut a guy a break, will you?”

The look in Tyr’s eyes, said, no, not ever.

So Lionel got to the point. “Here underneath the Haight-Ashbury Tattoo and Body Art Emporium.”

A red dot marked the spot. It wasn’t that far away.

“Wouldn’t he need power equipment and such?” Salista asked. “I mean that’s gotta be at least a couple of feet of solid cement under that building.”

“Bingo again!” Lionel announced.

* * *

Tyr was not certain of what this phrase meant, however it was certainly annoying him.

“What?” Tyr asked.

“Well one of the city’s heavy equipment yards just called in a burglary. For several jack hammers I might add.”

Tyr looked to Salista. “Yes, that could do it.”

So the game was afoot. Vitalis was nearing his end game. Time to intercept him.

“How long will it take for Vitalis to move the equipment to the business?”

“Depends,” Lionel said then held up a finger. “And now a two ton truck has been stolen, so he’s got the means to transport the jack hammers. I would say maybe a half an hour with traffic.”

“How soon can we be there?” Tyr asked.

Lionel shrugged. “We’re way closer so ten minutes give or take a two.”

“I could drive,” Alex suggested.

The entire room, answered, “No.”

The teen frowned but didn’t argue.

Tyr turned to his sister. “Haviana you will stay here.”

The woman put her hands to her hips. “Really? I traveled all the way across centuries to stay with him?” She threw a thumb over her shoulder to Lionel who seemed a little put out by the statement.

He was going to argue with his sister but Dyn put a hand on his arm. “She has as much a right to go after Vitalis as you do.”

How Tyr hated when his thane was being reasonable. It made arguing with the older man difficult. But not impossible.

“She has not seen enough combat to be of use.”

His sister however was no slouch in the argument department though. “So the LiveBlood you fancy has? How exactly does she bring strength to your company?”

Tyr felt his fuse light within his chest. To say such a thing about his Salista. Before he could blast his sister, Salista stepped between them.

“She’s right, Tyr. She is DeadBlood. She fought at the castle. Stop being so stubborn and just accept it.”

Under her touch, Tyr could feel himself soften, just a little to his sister.

Still he snorted, “Fine,” and strode off not looking back.

* * *

Sal watched the DeadBlood leave. God, he was so stubborn. As stubborn as her. As stubborn as his sister. As stubborn as Alex. Dear Lord they were going to make quite the family.

Haviana stormed out after her brother as Dyn chuckled. He winked at her as he left.

In some small ways, the thane reminded her of her father. Before he was ill. Before he and her mother fought into the night. She could see why Tyr loved him so.

“We’d best be going before the two of them begin a battle of their own.”

Sal nodded, but there was one more thing she had to do. Angling over to Alex who was adjusting his scabbard, Sal joined her brother. It was still weird to see the teen dressed like Tyr and Dyn. A little DeadBlood in the making.

“You ready?” she asked.

“And what? If I say no you’ll leave me here with Lionel?” Alex shot back.

“There wouldn’t be any shame in it,” Sal stated.

“Um, yah,” Lionel chimed in. “I’m doing important work too!”

She smiled at the physicist. In truth she wished she could stay here. After that last encounter with the beast, she wouldn’t mind taking a ‘bye’ on this one, but she couldn’t stay. To have Tyr die and she not be there?

Unthinkable.

CHAPTER 6

This age was so very odd, Tyr thought as he exited a “mini-van” that was larger than most cars. The area of the city was very much into paisley. “The Haight-Ashbury” District Salista had said as if that might mean something to him. It did not.

He just needed to get the bones before Vitalis.

It seemed his brother was hell bent on destroying the world. Or at the least his own family. Even if Tyr was not the cause of Vitalis’ descent, his family still bore the burden of creating such a monster.

The group stopped in front of the shoppe. A large lit sign announced this was the Haight-Ashbury Tattoo Parlor and Emporium. A large rose graced the left side of the sign with a thorny vine snaking its way over to the left side to a tattoo of the Madonna.

Tyr did not understand such a thing. In his day there were ink markings but they were reserved for those who had actually accomplished something. Ink was laid up on the skin to certify forever a warrior’s accomplishment. Like slaying a beast or a king defending his country from an invader.

What did that man who received the rose do? Garden exceptionally well?

Like he said. Odd.

“Do we have a plan of action?” Salista asked.

“We must clear the building,” Dyn replied. “Make a stand when the beast gets here.”

“Okay, I was hoping for maybe something a little more organized than that.”

Tyr frowned. How more organized did she want it? They were DeadBlood.

Salista took out her phone and called Lionel. He looked over her to Alex then shook his head. DeadBloods acted. They did not phone a friend.

Haviana stepped out in front, opening the door, striding into the building. Tyr followed close on her heels. The place was abuzz. Quite literally. The ink men used small buzzing devices to lay the ink into the skin. Again, such a departure from his homeland.

At home the ink-men were revered. There was usually only one per Provence and he was an artiste. He had nearly a palace, a real palace. Herbs were burned. Lilac filled the air as he worked. It may take him weeks to months to finish a truly glorious tattoo.

The patrons lay on settees covered in silk. Flutists played music in the background. It wasn’t unusual to have a priest in attendance to give a blessing during the procedure.

Nothing like this typical 20th century assembly-line type occupation. There was no honor here. A woman was getting a tattoo of a strange cat with a bow in its hair. Had the woman killed a kitten to get such a tattoo?

A man came up to the counter to greet them. “Hey, didn’t know the Faire was in town already. Don’t worry. We’ve got plenty of Hobbit designs.”

Tyr frowned as Salista stepped forward.

“Look, this is going to sound weird, but this business is under threat and you guys really need to clear out.”

The man chuckled. “Right and you’re what the medieval FBI?”

“I’m serious,” Salista said, but the man didn’t seem inclined to believe it.

No matter.

* * *

Alex cringed. This wasn’t going so well. They didn’t have any badges so why in the world would the guy believe them. Plus they did look a little like the Middle Earth police.

“Go now under your own volition,” Tyr stated.

“Dude, it is a Saturday night in the Haight-Ashbury district after the gay pride parade. We’re going for a record on rainbow flag tats. They’re half off in case anyone is interested.”

Why was the guy staring at Alex? He was DeadBlood.

Looking past the glass, Alex could see what the guy was talking about. The place had over a dozen tables and they were all full. And a good three quarters of them were getting the rainbow flag.

Tyr took a step back which seemed odd until he pulled in a full breath. “Go home,” he stated with the force of an edict.

Even Alex wanted to turn tail and run back to Salista’s apartment.

The man waivered but didn’t break. Leaving went against his intent. He wanted to stay so it was going to take more mojo then a simple edict.

Tyr opened his coat, grabbing a vial of blood from his bandoleer. Depressed blood? Sedentary blood? Alex was still a little hazy on the various blood’s actions. He knew though that you usually used a blood opposite of the action you wished to encourage. Which seemed weird to Alex, but hey, blood magic at its core was weird.

Tyr threw the vial down onto the glass desk. The vial shattered splattering the desk with blood.

“Hey!” the guy shouted.

“Go home,” Tyr stated through gritted teeth.

This time the guy’s eyes glazed over as his expression became confused. “Go home?” he asked in a far off voice.

“Go,” Dyn encouraged.

The man walked around the desk and headed to the front door.

“Jamie!” a tattoo artist called out from the back of the shop. “What are you doing? We’re open for another four hours!”

Jamie didn’t seem to hear his friend as he walked out the door into the night.

Tyr stepped past the desk.

“Hey! You can’t come back here without --”

“Go home,” Tyr growled. The tall DeadBlood reached his hand out. Dyn took it. “Go Home.”

Next to join the DeadBlood circle. “Go Home.”

Alex took Dyn’s hand. ‘Go Home.”

No wonder DeadBloods weren’t allowed to travel in numbers larger than a pair unless specifically summoned by a royal. DeadBlood’s power increased the more there were of them.

The entire room rose as one. Tattoo guns clattered to the floor. Women didn’t bother to dress, they just draped their shirts over their front. Like zombies they all shambled to the front door, streaming out without any other prompting.

Within moments the shop was cleared and quiet.

Quiet until the loud engine of a large truck reverberated into the night.

“Is that them?” Alex asked.

Salista rushed to the window and looked out. She turned around, her face pale. “It is a city of San Francisco road works truck.”

So it was the beast with his tools to crack open the floor. This was it.

Alex for some reason felt like bursting into tears.

He wasn’t up against some punk gang members. They were up against the beast.

* * *

Sal waited for the red. The red that always preceded the beast, but none came.

It sounded like the truck parked out back. A few minutes ago. They had expected an attack, but none came. All the DeadBlood’s swords were bristling, facing the back door.

She looked behind her to watch one streetlight explode, then another exploded.

The same happened to the lights overhead.

Suddenly they were plunged into darkness. Only moonlight seeped into the shop. Lazy shadows stretched across the floor, mottling the surface, really heightening the creep factor.

Sal had to remind herself to breathe. In and out. Don’t let the fear over come her. She glanced to Alex. His knuckles were a stark white against his sword’s black hilt.

Even Haviana was chewing on her lip.

Only Tyr and Dyn seemed undisturbed by the events. But how many beasts had they faced in their careers? Probably too many to count.

The door burst open but it wasn’t the beast.

Instead it was two men. One was Asian, dressed in black with nunchucks and another guy that looked like a biker, holding a long chain in his hand. They both brandished their weapons.

Well, this was going to get interesting.

Guess Vitalis had decided to go for thralls that could actually fight rather than skinny Goth chicks.

Or not. Tyr stepped forward.

“Enough!”

The nunchucks stopped whirring and the chain dropped to the ground piling up like a snake coiling itself.

“Leave,” Tyr growled.

It didn’t even take any blood to get the men to flee the building. However Sal knew that someone already under an edict was much more susceptible to further edicts. Kind of a catch-22.

“Vitalis,” Tyr shouted. “Why do you send your playthings in? Come confront us.”

Red filled the doorway. Sal took a step back. As a low growl filled the room.

Worry coursed through her. Vitalis wasn’t a big fan of one-on-four encounters. So what was his game?

She knew that both Tyr and Dyn underestimated the beast’s deductive skills.

Instead of staring at the back door, she turned to look out the front window. Two headlights glared in the distance heading straight for them.

“Watch out!” Salista yelled.

The DeadBlood threw themselves out of the way as a car ran headlong into the tattoo parlor.

The sound of shattering glass and twisted metal filled the room. The car finally slammed into the back wall, coming to a stop.

Tyr approached the car, checking on the driver. As the woman’s bloody head lolled to the side, it was pretty clear she was dead.

“Coward!” Tyr shouted out the back door.

Yep, that was pretty much Vitalis’ MO. He only fought when he had to.

He let his underlings take the brunt of the punishment. He also liked to use distractions and misdirection.

Then she saw it. A timer ticking down in the backseat. 10, 9, 8…

“Get out!” Salista screamed, tugging Alex back. “Now!”

Tyr looked confused, but grabbed his sister around the waist, jumping over the broken window and out into the street just as the car blew.

Salista was lifted up, carried across the street then slammed into the pavement. For a moment she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, the flash of light had been so bright. Her ears rung like she was at Notre Dame at Christmas.

Vaguely she could hear Tyr calling out to each of them. She wasn’t sure if anyone responded.

As her vision returned, all she could make out was the tattoo parlor ablaze. Flame shot high into the sky. The embers were already spreading to the buildings.

Sirens sounding in the night.

Sal sat up slowly, letting her body adjust to the shock it had just experienced.

Her pulse bounded in her ear, too fast and too weak. She checked her extremities. They were all there. Sal took in a deep breath but her lungs filled with smoke.

“Here,” Alex said, helping her get up. “We better beat it.”

It hurt but she turned her head to find Tyr helping Dyn up. Where was Haviana?

“There,” Salista said. Tyr’s older sister was down. Blood dribbling down the side of her head. It didn’t look that bad, but Sal was pretty sure the worst of the damage was inside the woman’s skull.

Sal opened the DeadBlood’s eyes. One pupil was blown wide open the other was pinpoint. Not a good sign.

Tyr knelt next to her. “Is it severe?”

Sal nodded.

Tyr unbuttoned his sister’s shirt to check inside. Haviana might be DeadBlood, however she had no thane so had no HeartsBlood of her own.

“I have some,” Sal stated pulling a vial of the artificial HeartsBlood from her bag.

Tyr looked over his shoulder at the tattoo parlor. The bomb had done way more damage than just a fire. It had shattered the concrete beneath it. The cement jut up in jagged points.

“Go,” Salista urged. “I’ve got her.”

* * *

Tyr frowned at Salista. His sister was dying. Of that he was certain. A head wound like that usually bore ill. But the beast now had access to the bones.

This was not a DeadBlood decision. It was a clear decision. Even Salista agreed.

He turned on his heel, and left. He could not look at Haviana’s pale, pale features again. To have found family only to have it threatened to be taken away damaged his heart more than any beast could do.

But his sister was in good hands. If anyone could save Haviana, it was Salista. The witch could work near miracles. He had to move on though. Vitalis could not get any of those bones.

Dyn was next to him as they charged across the street. Dyn’s arm bled, it looked like a piece of glass was protruding from his thane’s arm. Tyr too had an injury to his leg, but both wounds could wait until later.

They jumped over the ledge into the tattoo shop. Three men, thralls, apparently picked for their size, were combing through the rubble.

“Leave,” Tyr bellowed but none of the men stopped. They did not have the haze of one under an edict. So the beast had bribed them. Tyr noticed that his brother was doing none of the heavy labor.

“Stop!” Dyn shouted, his order filled with intent. This got the men to pause, but only momentarily.

Then Alex was there. “Leave!” the teen yelled, sounding the most authoritative Tyr had ever heard him.

This time the men dropped their crowbars and stumbled away. However the area they had cleared bristled with ancient bones. Vitalis had nearly completed his mission.

Luckily they had thwarted it in time.

Tyr’s suspicion was up though. Vitalis had shown enough times his ability to plan the most evil schemes.

What was this one?

* * *

Sal knelt beside Haviana, clearing her mind. This would be the most difficult healing she had ever performed. In the past the injury was easy to see. Tyr’s burn. Tyr’s chest ripped open.

She gulped remembering that one.

This head wound was worse though. The brain was complex and what happened inside the skull was hidden from her.

What if she asked the artificial HeartsBlood to perform the wrong task? If she asked Haviana’s blood vessels to stop bleeding, and really it was a cranial pressure issue, she could make things worse. A clot could cause a fatal stroke. But what if Haviana was bleeding into her brain? To not try hemostasis risked an epidural hematoma, which in itself could be fatal.

Waiting in either case would not be good. God she wished she had an MRI. Without one there was nothing she could do but pull up a single drop of the elixir that she and Lionel had created. Hands shaking she placed the drop on Haviana’s external wound.

She willed the epidermal cells to re-bond. The blood flow immediately stopped.

That was the easy part.

Sal pulled up another drop, taking in a deep breath. She knew the brain. She knew injuries like this. As a matter of fact her tools at the ER were crude at best. Usually diuretics in the case of brain swelling to pull fluid from the rest of the body and hopefully the brain and steroids to avoid damage to the neurons. Not exactly specific treatments.

This artificial HeartsBlood could be specific though. Scarily so.

She had to trust her instincts and take the dive.

Dribbling a few more drops out, Salista imagined Haviana’s brain.

It was like a 3D image in her mind. She had to trust the statistics on an injury like this.

More than likely there was a small tear in one on the blood vessels, on the other side of the injury. It was what was called a “contrecoup” injury. It came from the skull hitting something and the brain being slammed against the other side of skull.

So that is where she focused. Yes, there would be swelling so she sent in healing cytokines. She asked, yes asked, the mediator of inflammation, the neutrophils to calm themselves, to stop sending out chemotactic signals to bring in macrophages.

Sal spoke as eloquently as she could to each type of cell. She knew each was only doing their job, so she had to coax them to wind down.

Next she tackled the bleeding. She urged the platelets to seal the wound. Encouraging fibrin to form a temporary seal on the edges. For the blood that had already leaked into the epidural space, she encouraged any phagocytes to swallow the cells, clearing them from the hematoma.

All of this should have taken days if not weeks in some cases, but with the artificial HeartsBlood, Sal could effect these changes in a few minutes.

Already Haviana’s color had improved and her eyes moved back and forth. She was rising from her coma. Sal smoothed back the woman’s hair. Funny she and Tyr had the same hair line. Sal guessed it wasn’t that funny, the two were related. It was hard to imagine Tyr with family. He had always had such a lone wolf vibe.

Haviana’s eyelids fluttered.

“Shh,” Sal urged. “Take it slow.”

The woman’s eyelids rested for a moment then opened. Haviana’s beautiful green eyes looked at her. “Am I in heaven?”

Sal chuckled, looking around at the destruction surrounding them. “Definitely not.”

“But I saw the light,” the woman said, sounding confused.

“I used an artificial form of HeartsBlood to heal you.”

Haviana’s hand reached out to squeeze Sal’s arm. “Thank you.”

Sal had been so focused on Tyr’s sister that she didn’t notice the red tinged air until it was too late.

A low growl was her only warning the beast was within striking distance.

CHAPTER 7

Tyr heard the scream and instinctually knew Vitalis’ plan. It was so obvious now. Before he even turned around he knew that the beast had descended upon Haviana and Salista. His women. He had left them unprotected.

He had been a fool.

Vitalis had read him like a parchment.

Vitalis had one huge paw on Haviana’s chest. His claws splayed open, ready to dig into her flesh. And with the other paw, had Sal by the neck.

“Give me a bone,” Vitalis hissed through his fangs.

“Don’t,” Sal squeaked out before the beast tightened his grip. Her eyes bulged as she gasped for breath.

Tyr looked to Dyn. The question clear on his face. Could they take Vitalis before he killed one or both of the women? The look in Dyn’s eyes confirmed Tyr’s fear. They could not. The beast was strong and not vulnerable to edicts. Lord knew they had tried for decades.

Alex stepped up alongside Tyr, his eyes burning with fear and retaliation.

“You must clear your mind,” Tyr said, more to himself than to the teen. He could not operate out of a state of retribution. To use intent to its fullest extent you need to be its servant, not attempting to be its master.

He sucked in a breath, trying to clear the panic that threatened to build underneath his chest bone. While Vitalis was a wanton creature, lower than the lowest beast, he needed something and would keep the woman alive until he got it. But even if they gave him a bone, would he keep the woman alive?

“We cannot,” Dyn stated.

Tyr knew that. He knew both Salista and Haviana would rather die than allow Vitalis to have that kind of power.

But he did not want either of them to die.

Yet he could see no way around it.

Then from all directions, men shambled forward. Vitalis had created a mindless army to do his bidding.

“The bone or you all shall perish.”

* * *

Alex wanted to rush across the street and pimp slap the beast but he knew that wouldn’t be a very good idea. It would probably get Salista, Haviana and himself killed. But still the urge was there.

He turned to brandish his weapon at a guy who looked like a grocery clerk. Clearly, Vitalis knew that these men wouldn’t last long, but the beast would throw them upon the DeadBlood’s swords to keep them occupied.

So much carnage. For what?

Now Alex understood why Tyr hated his brother so much. Alex and Sal’s differences now seemed so stupidly minor. Who really cared if you watched the Walking Dead on its airing date when you were practically living it?

Fury shook his limbs. He’d never been so angry, not even when the beast had his mother.

Bastard.

Yet Tyr and Dyn held their positions so Alex did as well.

They had been DeadBlood for decades. They must have some kind of way out of this mess? Someway to disarm the beast and save his sister without giving Vitalis the weapon he so craved.

Yet looking up on the older men’s faces, he did not see determination. He saw defeat. Like they had already given up on his sister and Haviana. Well, to hell with that. Alex would charge over there if the other two men refused to do anything.

He would not watch his sister die. Not like his mother.

Then Salista dug her fingers into the beast’s paw, getting him to let up just a little.

“Plan,” was the only thing she could croak out.

Alex didn’t understand what she was talking about until he saw the syringe in her hand. It must have been the artificial HeartsBlood. What in the hell was she going to do with that?

“Guys, get ready,” Alex warned as Sal’s arm raised.

“For?” Tyr asked.

Alex wasn’t exactly sure but something big was about to happen and Sal’s face twisted into a grimace.

* * *

This broke every rule, every oath that Sal had ever taken. It wounded her to her core to do so, but what else was there to do?

She sprayed Vitalis’ paw with artificial HeartsBlood. Then she laid her hand on the area. Unlike her usual healing mantra, Sal brought hellfire to the skin. She asked cytokines to come, en mass, inflammatory cells, pyrogenics. Anything and everything that could damage healthy tissue.

The beast’s skin burst with blisters and boils. Vitalis’ scream sounded all too human in her ear as he flew back from the pain.

Vitalis quickly realized that while his foot was painful, it was not a fatal injury. He slashed his tail from side to side as he lifted his paw to take a swipe. Sal dropped to the ground, shielding Haviana with her body.

But her plan had given Tyr and the other DeadBloods time to race across the street. Now it was a fair fight.

Alex dove next to her, “Come on, we’ve got to get you out of here.”

He helped her lift Haviana. They didn’t get far as the street was clogged with Vitalis’ men.

* * *

Holy crap. The number of zombified guys had tripled since Vitalis had shown himself.

And Alex was burdened with Haviana’s weight. Not that she was that big a woman, but she could barely stand.

Alex swiped his blade, trying to urge the attackers off. “Back,” he barked. To his surprise, the guy stumbled back a few steps. He had to remember he was DeadBlood, not that wimpy kid that got picked on at school.

“Back,” he urged, making nearly a dozen attackers stop in their tracks and shuffle backwards.

“Back,” Haviana hissed as well, despite her barely being able to open her eyes.

Salista grabbed a 2x4 that was on fire and swiped it in front of her. He knew she couldn’t use intent, but fire seemed to be working pretty well at the zombified people. That was his sister. Always resourceful. He’d always hated her for that. Now he wanted to kiss her on the mouth.

Slowly they made progress as the sounds of intense battle filled the air. Alex glanced behind him to find Vitalis who had jumped onto the roof of a car, taking on both Tyr and Dyn. The clash of metal and the roar of the beast made him grateful to be where he was.

“Leave me,” Haviana said, pulling her arm off Alex’s shoulder. “Join the battle,” she urged.

“But--”

“No, buts, you are DeadBlood and DeadBloods fight.”

He kind of knew that, but he still hesitated.

“She’s right,” Salista said. “I’ve got her. Go.”

Even though he knew it wasn’t an edict, it sure as heck felt like one.

“Fine,” Alex said, gathering his strength, trying to pretend that the beast’s roar didn’t instill fear down to his bone marrow.

“Back,” he shouted once more, driving the mob a little further away before he turned to join the battle.

Taking only a moment to screw up courage, Alex leapt forward with a war cry. It wasn’t nearly as ferocious as Tyr’s or Dyn’s but it got the job done. Vitalis turned to face the new attack, leaving a part of his flank open.

Tyr sliced along the skin, as blood poured out.

The beast, now even more inflamed, came at Alex, swatting away his sword. The blade clanged to the ground.

Alex stood there, unarmed as the beast came upon him.

* * *

Tyr bunched his muscles, shouting “Enough!”

Vitalis might be immune to regular edicts, but one from the soul? One from the heart? That even his brother could not shrug off. He did not flee, but nor could the beast keep his trajectory on Alex. The beast landed a good three feet away.

Tyr was proud to see Alex kept his head, striking out with his sword. The blow glanced off the beast’s back, but still the teen had tried and not cowered in fear.

Dyn came in with a side blow, knocking Vitalis off his feet. The beast had to fend off the attack, while trying to regain his feet. Tyr was there, hacking at the beast. Between the two of them, they might have a chance.

They worked in synchrony. One would defend, one would attack. They were driving the beast further and further away from the women. Unfortunately that meant they were getting closer and closer to the tattoo shop.

Sirens sounded, screaming their way through the city, getting closer and closer. They needed to end this quickly before any more were hurt.

Tyr pressed his advantage, slicing through the beast’s tough hide, hitting a muscle, causing Vitalis to falter.

Just another few moments and they could salvage this night.

Unfortunately one of Vitalis’ men shouted. “Here!”

Tyr had to abort his swing to spin around to see what the man meant.

The thrall held up a long femur bone.

Tyr turned back to Vitalis, but not quickly enough.

The beast roared, leaping over Alex onto a car, then vaulting over them all, landing on the sidewalk in front of the tattoo shop. He looked back, snarling at them which seemed more of a victorious smile than a challenge.

“Get her up!” Tyr yelled to Salista and Alex.

The next step would be a vortex.

And exactly as he suspected, Vitalis smashed several vials on the ground, mixing them with his claw. A red bloom followed. The beast accepted the femur bone in his mouth, turning to Tyr as the vortex grew.

Vitalis turned at the last moment, flicking his tail before he entered the vortex.

“Go!” Tyr urged, shoving the rest forward as the vortex raged on, loud and feeling all-consuming.

As soon as Vitalis was through, the people attacking them, suddenly stopped and milled around confused. Which almost made things worse.

“Hurry,” Tyr yelled. Dyn swooped in and took Haviana from Salista and grabbed Alex’s arm, dragging him through the roaring vortex. Already the tall man had to duck as the vortex began to shrink.

“Get in!” Tyr shouted to Salista. She turned around, then looked over her shoulder, shaking her head.

He threw himself forward, shoving her in. Only halfway through, Salista clung to him. Her body whipped from side to side as the vortex tried to claim her but she wouldn’t let it.

In the end, he had to yank her out before the vortex cut her in half.

* * *

Sal clung to Tyr as his body still shook from the force of the vortex.

“What are you doing, witch?”

She hugged him tighter, not because she was weaker or because she was more afraid, but because she loved him more.

“I couldn’t leave you, not again…” she said as he leaned down and kissed her.

Each time was a revelation. Each time she couldn’t believe that she was lucky enough to fall in love with a DeadBlood.

“In truth it struck my heart that we might be parted,” he said, holding her so tightly that she feared he might break a rib. And you know what? She’d take it.

Then the sirens wailed as the police and fire department descended on the area. Tyr and she slipped away into the back alley’s shadows.

They made their way east, away from the primary responders.

Concern soon replaced Tyr’s relief.

“What’s wrong?” Sal asked.

He shook his head, but she could tell something was bothering him.

“Is it Haviana?”

“No, she seemed strong enough to survive the vortex.”

“Then what?”

“That cache of bones. Vitalis could easily come back and claim them.”

Sal’s feet slowed as well. She looked over her shoulder at the building engulfed in flame. The fire would destroy a lot of stuff, but if the fire department had anything to do with it, the inferno wouldn’t reach the temperatures that were needed to burn bone.

As a matter of fact, most crematoriums weren’t hot enough to burn bone. Most of the “ashes” in urns were actually ground bone.

“What can we do?” Salista asked.

“Fight fire with fire,” Tyr answered.

Sal didn’t know what the hell he meant by that, but he said it so passionately that she went with it as he turned her around and headed back to the shop. By now there was quite a crowd as the fire department hustled to get their hoses hooked up.

Luckily none of them had made it around to the back yet. She could hear shouts from the firemen and the whoosh of water as their hose came alive. After the 1906 fire that nearly destroyed all of San Francisco, the city took its fire stations very, very seriously.

Which was kind of bad for them. If Tyr was planning to do what she thought, they needed everyone out of there, like yesterday.

Tyr stormed into the store, shoving Sal backwards as he shouted to the few firemen that had made it that far. “Get out!”

The edict given to men used to following orders during an emergency, they hustled out the way they came. Once the building was clear, Tyr reached down into the earth as he dodged flames and brought out a pelvis.

Sal was glad the Ohlones tribe wasn’t here to see the decimation of their ancestors, but Tyr was right. He couldn’t leave the bones intact, otherwise they would be a constant source of power for Vitalis, whether they were left here or taken to a museum, they were unsafe.

Tyr mumbled over the bone, breaking several vials onto its surface. The bone began to glow red, redder than even the beast. She feared it would burn Tyr’s hands. Or worse consume him.

* * *

Tyr’s palms burned, but he could not stop. He had to stay in connection with the bone to cast this edict. Bone wanted to be strong. Together. Interconnected. To ask it to explode was nearly counter to its intent, therefore Tyr had to really, really, really convince it to do as he asked.

The bloods made it a little easier but not much.

And especially these bones that were revered by their tribe.

Everything was against him, except for his clear concern for his world and all the other ages. These Indians had known suffering and slaughter. That same fact could threaten their progeny. That the bones cared about.

Finally convincing the pelvis of his intent and his aim, the bones turned a solid white again. They were cool to the touch.

Tyr knew better than to let his guard down though. This was simply the first stage. The bones were pulling to them the energy to do as he asked. His palm became cool, then cold.

As it felt like frostbite, Tyr tossed the pelvis back into the crevice it came out of. He turned on his heel, rushing out the backdoor, scooping up Salista and pounding down the alley.

They were nearly to the end of the passage when the tattoo shop blew. The blast was strong enough it knocked Tyr to his knees. He shielded Salista with his body as shrapnel flew through the air.

Finally the blast blew itself out. Tyr turned to find the shop was no more. Not only that, but the entire area under the store was gone. The entire unholy graveyard had been vaporized in the blast.

Tyr apologized to the ghosts of those bones. Not just the tribe’s ancestors, but his own. If there had been any other way, but there hadn’t been.

“You okay?” Salista asked him.

He nodded and rose, lifting her to her feet. “Such destruction. I find I am tiring of it.”

She leaned her cheek against his chest. “I thought I’d never hear you say that.”

“And is that a good or a bad thing?”

She looked up, smiling. “A good thing. A really, really, really good thing.

CHAPTER 8

Alex stumbled, kicking up moss that made him sneeze. He felt dizzy and nauseated and hungry all at once.

Someone shouted in the distance. He wasn’t sure whom at this point.

There was a roar but it sounded far away, thank God.

He was bleeding from his forehead for some unknown reason. He felt like he had been wandering for a week, but knew it could only be for a few minutes.

“Salista!” he cried out but wasn’t surprised when she didn’t answer. He had vague memories of her refusing to get into the vortex without Tyr.

“Alex!” a shout responded. It sounded like Dyn.

“Here!” he called out, flopping down onto the soft mossy ground. He was done walking, just done. He put his fingers up to his forehead. It wasn’t that much blood. Dabbing it with his shirt, Alex chuckled even though it hurt his head.

Back in his old life, the one before he realized he was DeadBlood, a single drop of blood would have made him squeamish.

“Alex,” Dyn sighed as he approached. “You are alive.”

“Pretty much, yah.”

“I haven’t found Tyr or Salista,” Dyn stated. “I have Haviana resting over that knoll.”

“Tyr and Salista I think stayed on the other side. It looked like Tyr couldn’t make it and Salista wouldn’t leave him behind.”

Dyn just grunted. The DeadBlood equivalent to saying “okay.” Alex was going to have to try it out.

“Can you walk?” Dyn asked.

“I think the question is do I want to?” Alex said grimacing as he rose.

“The beast has the bone, we must be away and warn the crown.”

All of that sounded bad except for the fact they were going to the castle and that meant he would get to see Alyssa.

Now that got his feet moving.

* * *

Sal leaned against Tyr. They had gotten about ten blocks away before they stopped. This should be far enough away from the police who were scouring the area for who destroyed the tattoo shop.

The blaze lit up the San Francisco skyline. A skyline she loved since a child. The Trans-American building jutting up to the sky. The Golden Gate Bridge with its sweeping peaks. She loved it all. Yet she would give it up in a heartbeat to be with Tyr.

Tyr stroked the back of her head. “We’re safe.”

But for how long? The beast had the bone. This was not good. And they were on the wrong side of the time spectrum. Not good either.

“I am sure they are safe on the other side,” Tyr tried to reassure her.

But the beast was also on the other side so safety was a very relative concept.

Sal thought back to a time when she thought getting mugged on her way home from the hospital was the worst danger she might be in. Now there were so many dangers, both inside and out, it was hard to keep track.

It was moments like this that she couldn’t keep the grief of losing Maria in check. Her best friend had paid the ultimate price. And the beast had dealt the deadly blow. Maria would have loved Tyr’s world. It was Goth without all the make-up. Sal’s life had been turned upside down and she had no one to discuss it with. Sometimes she felt as if her chest had been hollowed out and filled with sawdust. Her ribs moved up and down as if she still had a heart, but nothing beat inside.

The sensation had been ten times worse when she thought she’d lost Tyr too. His arrival had alleviated the feeling somewhat but not entirely. Maria had been her friend, her confidant and her partner in crime. Tyr was many things, but fun-loving was not one of them.

Sal reached down and touched a Hello Kitty pendant she had bought. It made her feel closer to her dear friend. Sometimes though it also made her feel weighed down, like she just wanted to crawl into bed and not come back out.

She took a deep breath. No matter how tired or grieving she was, they had to get moving.

“We need to get back,” Sal said.

“We will need heartbroken blood,” Tyr stated as if he were reminding her.

“I know where to get some,” she said, tugging him toward the curb to catch a cab.

She knew exactly where to go to find some.

* * *

Tyr did not like the hospital. He knew that the place helped heal people, but he honestly could not see how. It was filled with witches and warlocks so arrogant in their craft.

How could a place that smelled like a witch’s astringent help heal? There was no sunlight. No place to stretch your legs. Nowhere to stable your horse. Simply absurd.

He thought of the hospices of his world. They were one story, lovely buildings, usually on or near a nunnery. Each room had a large glass door that overlooked a bountiful garden. Those sights and sounds made you want to get better.

He’d spent enough time in them once his HeartsBlood had run low. On reflection those had been some the kindest and brightest of his days. The nuns were usually sweet and respectful, not delineating between LiveBlood and DeadBlood. It was also the only time he had ever known rest. Plus they had treated Hunter with great care and diligence.

For that he would be forever grateful to the nuns.

Salista though was like a fish to water at this Gilded Age hospital. Her pace quickened and her face came alive as they approached the tall building with the ugly façade.

“Maybe you should wait here,” Salista suggested.

“You did not stay in this time with great peril to your life to be separated from me so quickly did you?”

She squeezed his hand. “Maybe you could help,” she said. “But you’ve got to play along.”

“When would I not follow your lead?” he asked.

“Um, like never,” Salista said. Tyr smiled, the witch was right. “So let’s make this the first time.”

* * *

Sal took them around the back of the hospital. What she was about to do was not just calculated, it was downright mean. DeadBlood mean. She could never fault Tyr again for his actions, because now she understood what a need truly was.

They didn’t have time to wait around for a tragedy to occur. They needed to make one happen right now.

Avoiding anyone in the hallways, Sal got them to the elevator and rode it up to the tenth floor.

When the doors opened, you would never know that the ER floor and this one existed in the same building. Gone were the grimy walls and dirty floors. This place had been remodeled just last year. The walls were a tasteful beige dotted with paintings of blooming flowers.

It was the executive floor. This is where the heads of each department had their offices.

She made her way down the hallway. The end of the hall was capped with a floor to ceiling glass window. The view from up here was spectacular. The lights of the City twinkled playfully. Such a departure from the despair just ten floors below.

She knew this hallway well. At the end of it was Richard’s office.

Sal hated to do this, but how else could she quickly and easily get heartbroken blood?

Before they arrived to his office, Richard stepped out. He was as neat and proper as always. Even this late in the evening, his tie was right up to this collar, not loosened an inch and his jacket looked like it had been freshly pressed as it lay over his arm.

“Sal?” he asked.

In answer, she turned to Tyr and pulled him in for a kiss. Now this, this was an action the DeadBlood could follow apparently very, very well. She allowed the kiss to linger. Sal knew it was cruel, but cruel was the point tonight.

In truth it was simply hard to pull away from Tyr. They’d had so little time together that wasn’t filled with the beast’s red glow.

Finally, though she had to get on with her ignoble task. Sal turned to Richard.

“We need to talk,” she said as she walked past the stunned psychiatrist and into his office, leaving Tyr in the hallway

Richard stumbled in after her, shutting the door. “I don’t understand…”

Sal took in a deep breath. This wasn’t going to be pretty.

“Richard I am leaving, forever. I am never going to see you again and…” Sal paused, could she be this utterly mean? Well, if they wanted to get back to Tyr’s time then she had better be.

“And I never want to,” she said watching Richard’s features break. You could see there had been hope in his eyes, now they clouded over like a storm coming in from the sea. “What we had was an illusion.”

She couldn’t just convince him they were never going to be together. If she wanted heartbroken blood then she needed to convince him they never had anything.

“I never loved you,” Sal stated nearly biting her tongue as she did so. It was the truth, which made it all the more painful to say and to see the look on Richard’s face.

“But you--”

Sal put her hand up. “I know I said what you wanted to hear and maybe I thought it was love, but now that I’ve actually felt the emotion, I can tell you with certainty it wasn’t love between you and I.”

She wanted to soften her words. She wanted to reach out and comfort him. To tell him how much she respected him. How much she truly cared for him, but that was not the point tonight. Tonight she needed his pure heartbroken blood.

Richard hung his head, unable to look at her.

Sal took a step closer. “Richard,” she said, tilting his chin up. “I have to admit that getting together with you was partially to hurt Stacey. I don’t think I would have ever gone out with you if I hadn’t been trying to get back at her.”

Tear welled in his eyes as his lip trembled. “But --”

Shaking her head, Sal hammered at the point. “Everything we had was based on a lie.”

The tears split over as Richard’s jaw muscles worked up and down.

There it was.

She reached her hand out. “May I?”

* * *

Tyr paced the hallway. What were they doing in there? He was not an imbecile. He knew that man was the one who had given Salista the ring, thinking to somehow cage her with it.

He had trusted Salista, but now he wished he had pressed her a little harder regarding her ultimate plan.

The door opened, relieving him greatly. Salista walked out with a vial of blood. Over her shoulder Tyr could see the tall warlock crying. His eyes shifted to Salista.

“What have you done?”

“What I had to, just as you did,” Salista said.

Tyr felt his heart crack. Had he tainted her so? Had he pushed her this far from her true nature?

“Don’t worry, I gave him a forget edict,” Salista said tugging him from the door.

From the look on the warlock’s face it had not taken well.

What was done was done though and they had their heartbroken blood.

While Sal looked strong, he noticed that her hand shook. He took the vial from her.

“You can see how it is not easy.”

Sal’s lips pressed together as she nodded. “No, it isn’t.”

They were nearly half way down to the elevator when it opened. The blond doctor that both he and Salista hated stepped out into the hallway.

“Sal? What the hell are you doing here?”

To Tyr’s surprise, Salista did not bristle at the woman’s presence or tone. Instead a slow, sad smile crossed her lips.

“Stacey,” Salista said, her voice actually filled with compassion. “Richard is going to need you.”

The woman sidestepped them, a grimace on her face. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t do what you did last time,” Salista stated. “Let him in. Let him know how you really feel.”

The blond witch frowned. “It really is best you left before they took your license away for just plain weirdness.”

Tyr noticed though that the woman could not look him in the eye. All the better. She had been far too eager to use him to get to Salista.

“Just take care of him, okay?” Salista asked.

“Yah, sure, if it gets you out of here,” the woman stated.

Salista smiled, tugging Tyr toward the open elevator. Just before the doors closed though they watched the woman enter the office, her face transforming to concern as she entered. “Richard, what happened?”

As the elevator doors closed, Tyr turned to Salista. “So you were kind after all?”

“Only after I got the blood,” Salista said. But that had been kinder than Tyr had been to her.

Obviously she had asked the woman to come up, to comfort the man, perhaps with the intent to get them back together?

This Salista. She certainly was a crafty witch.

* * *

Alex was sore in so many places. Horseback riding just wasn’t his thing. Dyn had scored some horses at the village, promising gold from the castle for their use.

So here he sat, miserable and well, the chaffing he wouldn’t discuss with anyone.

Haviana rocked back and forth on the horse in front of him. While conscious, she seemed barely more than that. She’d taken a nasty blow to the head, then the trauma of the vortex, Alex was surprised the princess was even able to sit upright.

Dyn was in the lead, pressing them forward.

The castle stood out in the distance. Right now it seemed like a small gem in a mountain setting. He knew just how big it would be once they got there.

It did seem far off though. What he wouldn’t give for a Jeep right about now.

Dyn fell back to check on Haviana who waved him off. Dyn reined his horse in so that Alex could catch up.

“What do you think Vitalis is going to do with the bone?” Alex asked.

“I fear to think upon it,” Dyn replied.

“But you’ve gotta have some guess,” Alex pressed. He hated being treated like a kid. Like he couldn’t handle the big stuff. Alex thought that he had proved that he could. If he could handle a full on attack by a beast, he could handle anything now.

Dyn sighed. “He did not want the bone for idle speculation. He will want to make the most of it.”

“Agreed, but what does that look like?”

Another deep sigh. “There are theories that there are great cracks that run under the ground. At times these cracks tremble and cause the earth to quake.”

“Yah, yah,” Alex said. “Strangely enough we called them earthquakes,” he informed Dyn. “There are plates or something underground that rub together until they build enough tension to cause a quake.”

Dyn nodded. “I fear that he might use the bone to create an artificial, devastating ‘earthquake.’”

Alex pulled his horse to a stop. In his age there had been movies about crap like this. It was never pretty. Even with all the high-rises gone, there were scientists that predicted a large enough quake to shatter California right off into the ocean.

“And the ground splitting is only the half of it. A magical event of that magnitude might shatter the boundaries between ages. Not just our world might be affected. This quake may echo through to other ages creating havoc.”

Okay, none of that sounded very good.

And where were Tyr and Salista at a time like this?

* * *

Tyr had not wanted to go back to Lionel’s lab. Instead he wished to seek out the other bloods they would need to make the potion to go forward to his age, but Salista had been insistent. They must go to Lionel’s.

So here they were on the campus again, getting those strange looks and whispers. Because purple hair was normal.

“I still do not understand, witch.”

“Just wait for it,” Salista responded.

Well, if he knew what “it” was, he would be more than happy to wait, but as it stood, he did not.

However it was clear from her posture she was not going to tell him so he simply strode forward. The campus he had to admit was something far more suited to encouraging learning than the hospital had been for healing. The rolling hills seemed natural along with the grass and trees. It reminded him of the abbeys of his time. A place to learn and reflect.

He had not spent much time in abbeys though. His learning had been of a different kind, but he could remember the times Dyn needed a book or parchment to research. Those had been quiet times too. Walking the grounds. Drinking the extremely weak tea the monks enjoyed.

This was such a place, however the drink of favor were oddly sweetened coffees. Why have a coffee if you were going to add whipped cream and caramel to it?

Odd.

Finally they made their way to the entrance to the physic’s laboratories. He was glad that Salista was as eager to get to Lionel’s as he. Once they hit the staircase, she hurried down, leaping two steps at a time.

They burst into Lionel’s office at a run.

The small man smiled widely at their entrance. “Got your text! I’m all over it.”

“What is it?” Tyr asked not trying to contain his irritation.

“Didn’t she tell you, man?”

Tyr shook his head. He was DeadBlood, not any man, but he did not correct the warlock.

“I’ve been able to duplicate the components you need for the vortex.”

Tyr cocked his head as Sal handed over the heartbroken blood.

“I’m sorry, I do not understand.”

“Well since I can’t do any intent, I turned my attention to replicating the different bloods. Kind of like what I did with the HeartsBlood,” the warlock stated.

“I do not understand,” Tyr admitted.

“Lionel is using mass spectrometer and volatile gas analysis to try to recreate the very specific components for each type of blood.”

“You can do that?” Tyr asked.

“Yeppers,” Lionel answered.

“You must not,” Tyr hissed. “You must stop your research.”

* * *

Sal stepped between the two men. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she said putting a hand on Tyr’s chest. He was going a little too DeadBlood on Lionel.

“This is just like the artificial HeartsBlood that just saved you and your sister.”

“No, this is different,” Tyr growled. “This is the beast’s work.”

“Tyr, come on,” Sal tried to coax, but the DeadBlood would have none of it.

“Think upon it, witch,” Tyr said between clenched teeth. “You have created artificial intent. And now you wish to recreate the emotions held within the blood. What if Vitalis got a hold of this?”

“Isn’t that the problem with any weapon?” Sal asked. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but you’ve been getting your butt kicked by the beast. For how many decades now? We’ve got to risk this or we’ll always be a step behind the beast.”

Tyr’s jaw clenched and unclenched just as his fists did at his side.

“Do you wish to bring on the Harrowing?” Tyr asked.

Sal sighed. “Of course we don’t, Tyr, that isn’t fair. Lionel has been very careful with his research. No one else knows.”

“You think knowledge such as this will not get out?” Tyr demanded. “You risk much to make life just a little easier.”

She sat down on a stool. What she had thought would be a win was now in question. Could nothing be straightforward? She’d used artificial HeartsBlood to harm, not to cure. Did she have a clear head about all of this?

Probably not.

And Lionel? Lionel you could see in his eyes his quest for knowledge, damn the consequences. It was how each of them had nearly descended.

“Okay, okay,” Sal sighed. “But Lionel thinks he can duplicate heartbroken blood.”

Tyr frowned, not arguing so quickly this time are you? Heartbroken blood was hard to find. Just as Love blood was. It was a significant limiting factor in time travel.

“Well? Are you so against it this time?”

Tyr’s frown grew. They would no longer have to be so dependent upon jumping Vitalis’ vortexes.

“One batch, then destroy the formula,” Tyr finally stated.

Lionel rubbed his hands together. “Another all-nighter, alright!” He then shooed them away. “You guys go get some rest or something, I’ll have it ready in the morning.”

“Morning?” Tyr’s frown returned. “We must leave now.”

“Why?” Lionel asked.

“The beast has the bone. We must stop him.”

Lionel smiled. “Well, duh, but this is time travel, dude. You can leave in the morning and just shoot for the same time Vitalis and the rest went though. No biggie. You can leave any time now and get to where you want.”

Sal hadn’t thought of that and clearly neither had Tyr.

“Can we?” Sal asked Tyr. “I’ve still got my apartment.”

“Yah, yah,” Lionel urged, waving them away. “Go get some sleep and come back in the morning... And maybe bring me a couple of Red Bulls.”

From the look in Tyr’s eyes he wasn’t thinking about sleeping any time soon. Sal couldn’t agree more.

“Deal,” Sal said to Lionel. “Red Bulls it is.”

Hand-in-hand Sal walked out of the office with Tyr.

CHAPTER 9

Dear God, the castle was no closer. As a matter of fact somehow it seemed further away.

“Seriously, don’t they have any guards or patrols?” Alex asked.

“They are probably sweeping to the north to track down the beasts that assaulted the castle,” Dyn explained.

“I really don’t know how much longer I can ride,” Alex admitted, plus Haviana looked like she was about to fall off her horse.

“We will camp here for the night,” Dyn stated, pulling to a stop, dismounting his horse.

“Are you sure there isn’t a village nearby?” Alex asked, knowing he was whining but not really caring about it.

“I think I would know,” Dyn answered with a frown. “It is either rest here or ride to the outskirts of the castle.”

“Fine,” Alex sighed, lifting his leg off that seemed stuck in the bent position as he tried to dismount. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Not at all. However he did not fall on his butt so that was a total win in Alex’s column.

Dyn started gathering sticks for the fire. Haviana, still shaky on her feet took the large leather balloon and went to take it to find water. Alex took it from her.

“I’ve got it,” he said. “Sit down. Take a load off.”

For a woman who he imagined had been waited on hand and foot her entire life, she had a serious independent streak. Kind of reminded him of Salista.

“I can manage,” Haviana shot back.

“I know, but why do it if you don’t have it?” Alex asked, keeping the water sack out of reach.

Finally Haviana gave up, sinking down sitting on a rock. “Fine.”

Yep, just like Salista, not a thank you in there.

Alex headed into the forest. They had trotted through a babbling brook not too long ago. He was pretty sure it was to the east. And since the moss grew on the trees to the north, he took a left at the first timber.

He listened intently to hear the sound of water, but there was none. Maybe it was further than he thought.

Was that a flicker of firelight deeper in the woods? Alex slowed his steps. Was this a friend or a foe? Or worse a beast. Although beasts weren’t exactly known to love the fires so much. However if they traveled with their human thralls, they might.

All the more reason to draw his sword.

Should he go back to Dyn? Did he need the thane?

In the end, Alex decided not to double back. He would just recon the situation then inform Dyn. At some point he had to stop running back to Dyn for every little thing.

He could do this. Right?

Right.

So ever so cautiously, not allowing a single twig to break under foot, Alex crept up on the camp. For all he knew it was just a hunting party out late from the village.

With each step he could hear his own heartbeat. It bound so loudly that he could swear Dyn should be able to hear it back at their camp. His breath hissed in his ear and his muscles complained at his lowered stance. The position was cramping all of the areas that had been so sorely used on the ride.

Alex had to ignore it all and focus on what was in front of him. The fire was small and the best way to describe it was messy. It looked like a toddler had built it. The rest of the camp was in equal disarray. A pack was flung open on the near side and a rather dubious looking tent on the far side.

Then he caught sight of it. A small, low, strange crib. A baby’s hand came out of it as the baby cooed. A young boy, no more than six came from the edge of the forest and knelt down, rocking the baby’s crib.

“It’s okay, Melony, I’ll find you some milk in the morning,” he reassured the baby girl.

What in the heck was going on?

Alex waited a few more seconds, waiting for some adult to arrive on the scene, but none did.

Were these children on their own? The oldest barely out of his toddler years.

Alex sheathed his sword and raised his hands as he walked into the clearing. “I don’t mean you any harm.”

Still the boy pulled out his wooden sword with a metal tip. “Get back.”

“I’m not going to hurt you or your sister,” Alex said. “But you obviously need some help.”

The young boy eyed Alex. “None from the likes of a DeadBlood.”

Great. This age was all gay friendly, but DeadBloods, not so much. Glad to know that some prejudice made its way to the future.

“Your baby needs milk. We have some.”

Dyn had bartered for a lot of stuff back at the village. Apparently he knew they might not make it back to the castle before nightfall and the man did like his milk in his coffee in the morning.

The boy again looked suspicious. “Why would you give us any?”

“Because we help people,” Alex said.

“No you don’t!” the boy shouted. “You bring the beast who kills everyone!”

Okay, now Alex was starting to get the picture. The boy’s parents must have been killed in the attack on the castle. What an amazingly brave boy. To have brought his baby sister into the forest and gotten them this far.

“I’m sorry for your parents, I really am, but you are going to have to trust someone or else your baby sister is going to starve.”

The boy’s face clouded over. He knew that to be true but didn’t want to accept it.

“Please, let us help,” Alex urged taking a step out of the forest.

“Get back!” the boy shouted. “Get back.”

Alex complied.

“I promise I won’t hurt you,” he stated.

“Neither will I,” Dyn said, coming from around the other side of the camp. The boy swung around, facing the new threat with his metal tipped wooden sword.

“Please, child, we come to help.”

“How do I know you aren’t going to just rob us?” the boy said. “We’ve had others…”

The boy couldn’t finish his sentence.

“I have the Princess with me,” Dyn stated.

“The Princess?” the boy said, his eyes getting wide. “Haviana?”

Dyn nodded. The Princess came out from the woods.

“Please child, allow us to help.”

The boy dropped his sword and rushed forward into Haviana’s arms. He gripped her around the waist, sobbing clinging to her skirt. “Thank you, thank you.”

Alex wondered if he would be quite so relieved if he knew his beloved princess was a DeadBlood herself?

* * *

Tyr followed Salista into her apartment. It smelt of her. Honeysuckle, dust and just a sprinkle of antiseptic. It should not have been quite as intoxicating as it was, but he would prefer to smell no other scent.

She barely shut the door when he took her in his arms, kissing her fully on the lips. Salista seemed ready to yield right there and then but Tyr had far more elaborate plans than that.

He picked her up into his arms, heading for the bedroom.

“What are you doing?”

“Is this not what couples do?”

Salista laughed. “After the wedding.”

He kissed her again. “Are we not bound? Do we need a piece of jewelry to prove it?”

She cocked her head, searching his features. “No, no I guess not.”

He smiled, kissing her yet again as he turned the corner to her bedroom.

The door was ajar so he pushed it open.

There was her bed, still messy from her last sleep. The covers were tossed about. One pillow on the floor, another sideways across the bed. How he did love her, but she was not one for neatness above all else.

Carefully he lowered her to the bed.

She stroked his cheek, kissing his arm.

“Salista,” Tyr said. His tone must have been somber enough to get her attention. She looked him in the eye. “I could not have said this before, but I will always come back for you.”

A smile slowly spread across her lips. “And I shall always come forward for you.”

If those were not vows of fidelity, Tyr did not know what would be.

* * *

Alex sat watching Haviana use the most jury-rigged baby bottle in the world. The infant didn’t seem to mind as she suckled loudly, chugging down the milk. Her older brother sat gnawing on a turkey leg.

Haviana stroked the boy’s wild hair down. “Child, why did you not go to the shelters?”

“Tomik, my lady, my name is Tomik and my Pa told my Ma to go south to get away from the castle before it were attacked again.”

“Then your Ma?” Dyn asked although he seemed to know the answer.

“She died saving us from a panther beast,” the boy said as he stopped eating.

Haviana hugged him tighter. “The crown was caught unawares by the attack of so many beasts, but we never shall be again.”

“They are coming back?” the boy asked, fear clear in his voice.

Haviana looked over the boy to Dyn. She obviously didn’t want to lie, but she also wanted to comfort the child. “We do not think so, not like that.”

No, the truth was the boy probably wasn’t safe anywhere on the West Coast, but it didn’t make a whole lot of sense to worry the child over a massive earthquake.

And he did seem comforted. “So we can go back to the castle? The monks will take care of us?”

“Yes,” Haviana said, smoothing his hair again. “Or another family, yes.”

Dyn held up his hand. “Quiet.”

Everyone obeyed. Even the baby stopped her suckling. Alex heard nothing, but that didn’t mean a whole lot. Dyn slowly rose, unsheathing his sword in a single motion.

He padded his way away from the fire.

“Show yourself,” Dyn announced. Alex could feel the edict in his words.

A figure came from the woods. He was a slight man with a significant limp.

“Please don’t hurt me.”

The little Tomik pointed his finger. “It was him! He stole our bread!”

“I didn’t know what else to do,” the man said, showing the long jagged, pus filled wound that ran down his leg.”

“You could have asked for help at the castle,” Haviana bristled.

The man looked down, forlorn. “I couldn’t risk being recognized.”

“Because?” Dyn asked, his sword still up.

“Because I was under an edict when I helped the beast into the castle.”

Dyn’s eyes narrowed. “And what thinks you will fare any better with us?”

“You are DeadBlood, are you not?” The man asked. “You know I had no choice.”

Well, that wasn’t exactly true. You could resist or even break an edict. It just took a strong mind and a pure heart.

“And why would we not think you were here to do a beast’s bidding?” Haviana asked, pulling the boy closer to her.

The man spread his hands out before him. “I would imagine that you would, but I am not. I simply am hungry and do not wish to die of this infection. I could not fake that.”

Alex stood. “The beasts would have let it fester just to convince us.”

Dyn’s eyes slid over to Haviana who sighed. “Until we know otherwise, we must act with compassion.”

“No, no, we don’t,” Alex protested. “Am I the only one who remembers Finnia’s treachery?”

“No, Alex, you aren’t,” Dyn stated. “But the Princess is correct. We cannot condemn this man without proof.”

Ugh. Not for the first time, Alex wished Tyr were here. Tyr wouldn’t put up with this, not in a heartbeat.

Where the heck was the DeadBlood anyway? He’d expected him to crash into the campsite at any moment.

Where was Tyr when you needed him most?

* * *

Tyr looked down upon Salista’s perfection. Her skin glowed with a sheen from their intimacy.

“You have learned to yield, my dear.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” she responded.

Tyr frowned, she did not mean what he thought she did?

“No, no,” Salista chided. “I mean, just softening, trusting more.”

His frown slid off his lips and a smile replaced it.

He leaned over and kissed her neck, nibbling his way down her chest. Salista stopped him before he reached his destination.

Most vexing.

“Maybe we should get some sleep?” she suggested.

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you assured of that?”

Salista laughed it was like a thousand bells chiming just for him. “No, not at all, I just wanted to offer. You must be exhausted.”

That was true. He should have been beaten back, withered within himself, but he was not. Salista’s touch had reignited him. Given him an energy he hadn’t had since he was a youth. The thought of trying to sleep while his body was on fire seemed ridiculous.

Like lying down in the middle of a fierce battle, his body simply would not allow him to.

“Does your age not have a saying?”

Salista tilted her head. “What saying?”

“We can rest when we are dead?”

She chuckled, “You need to work on your romance lines.”

He leaned over and kissed her, his hand wandering up to her breast, kneading the tender tissue, stroking her nipple with his thumb.

From her moans apparently he didn’t need to work on his lines.

CHAPTER 10

Sal awoke feeling warm and safe and…crowded.

How long had it been since she’d spent the night with another person? Over a year? But it was Tyr so it was okay.

Even the fact she was sleeping on four inches of the side of the bed as Tyr was sprawled out sideways. Even though she only had a tail of a cover. Even though he had both pillows. It was worth it.

She turned over, which turned out to be a bit of gymnastic endeavor and propped herself up onto one elbow. Sal stared down on his perfection.

Well, perfection in her eyes. His chest was covered in scars new and old. Wounds too small to be treated with HeartsBlood. She trailed a finger across one that went from his clavicle to his belly button. How could that wound not have deserved treatment?

Sal could only imagine the pain Tyr had suffered in being a DeadBlood. Did she want the same fate for Alex? Things were changing though. Now with the artificial HeartsBlood, every wound could be treated. Would that change the DeadBloods? Would they become less cautious? Would there be more actual deaths before they pushed it too far, past the point HeartsBlood could help?

Would Alex not learn restraint if he always thought he had the miracle juice?

Sal frowned. And what if others learn that the artificial HeartsBlood could be used to hurt rather than heal? She had broken her Hippocratic oath. Others would probably be even worse than she had been.

What had she begun?

Tyr’s head rolled toward her. He had an easy, casual smile on his lips. She was surprised they could form that shape. She’d assumed they were frozen in a half-frown.

Putting her palm against his cheek, the stubble tickled her, but she still stroked down the side of his face. Not as many scars here, but still enough to prove he had been DeadBlood, born and bred.

His eyes opened and the smile on his face spread. “Did you not have enough last night, witch?”

“Apparently not,” Salista said, laughing, swinging her leg over his hips to straddle him.

She leaned in and kissed him. His arms wrapped around her, pressing their bodies close. It would not take much to start round six. And she was more than eager to go the full rounds. Like Lionel said, they could leave at any time and still arrive at the exact moment that Tyr wished in his time. So why not enjoy it?

Tyr broke off the kiss though, urging her back.

“What’s wrong?” Had he tired of her already?

He smoothed her hair, stroking her jawline with this thumb.

“I have not been entirely honest with you.”

Uh oh. Words like that coming from a DeadBlood were never good. She braced herself. This could be bad. She wasn’t sure what or how bad, but she had to be prepared. Her whole world could crash down around her. Tyr might end up being another one night stand. Damn, and just when she’d learned to yield quite nicely.

Tyr seemed to be bracing himself as well as his excitement waned.

“My mother…”

Okay, Sal hadn’t expected those words to come out of his mouth. How bad was this news?

“Your mother?” Sal prompted when Tyr’s lips stalled.

“She is DeadBlood.”

Sal laughed, then slapped her hands over her mouth. Clearly to Tyr this was no laughing matter but with the doomsday scenarios playing out in her head, Tyr’s mom being a DeadBlood didn’t even hit the top 100.

Trying to suppress another laugh, Sal asked, “But how could that be? She married, had children?”

“I do not know, but Haviana is DeadBlood as well.”

“What?” Okay, now Sal was completely and totally confused.

“I admit I would not let them explain, the concept was too shocking to take in, grievously.”

Sal stroked his chest. “I’m sorry, Tyr. I’m sure this is weird for you.”

He nodded, not looking at her.

“This doesn’t change how much I love you,” Sal stated. She turned his jaw toward her. “Hey, did you hear me?”

“How could it not?” Tyr sighed. “My family is treacherous. Outlaws. Criminals.”

“Only because your land’s laws are so whack,” Sal explained. “I’m sure they have a good explanation.”

Tyr’s frown only increased. “I fear there are more lies buried under those lies.”

Sal couldn’t help but chuckle. She patted Tyr’s cheek. “Welcome to my world, buddy.”

* * *

Alex awoke with a start. His hand flew to his sword laying next to him on the ground. He half expected the entire camp slaughtered and the injured man escaped. But what he found was a calm setting. The fire sputtered, finally dying as the sun rose. Smoke curled up into the sky, disappearing past the tall treetops.

Haviana was curled up on the other side of the fire. She had the baby tucked into her coat and the boy slept along her back, nearly smothered in her blankets. The injured man was right where they left him, tied to the tree. His leg already looked better though and the guy had color in his cheeks rather than ashen grey they were last night. Or maybe daylight was treating him better than the harsh firelight.

Dyn sat next to the fire. He stirred the coffee pot hanging above the dying fire.

Snap.

Alex sat upright, looking over to Dyn. Had he heard that?

“We are surrounded,” Dyn answered simply.

What the hell?

Dyn shrugged answering Alex’s unasked question. “With the children what else could we do?”

Alex looked over to the injured man. He had a wicked smile on now.

“You will always be weak as long as you are trusting,” the man sneered.

Oh, Alex had told them so and had anyone listened? Um, no.

The man rose up, shedding his restraints. “DeadBloods,” he snorted. “Not nearly as hardy as the legends.”

Haviana tried to gather the boy to her, but he jerked away, stepping back, pulling a long dagger.

“You?” Haviana hissed.

The boy smiled. “I told them the baby would do the trick. Soften your defenses.”

“This isn’t even your sister?” Haviana asked.

Alex had seen this before. Homeless kids taken in by gangs to run scams like this. It never ended pretty.

He had to give it to the boy, he had played his part seamlessly.

Dyn stood up. A sad frown on his face. “Give up now and you both might be spared.”

Not even the little boy looked inclined to accept that offer.

“Then I am sorry,” Dyn said stirring the coffee pot.

Wait a minute, why didn’t Alex smell any coffee?

At least twelve attackers emerged from the brush. They were totally and completely surrounded and were brandishing some pretty heavy-duty weapons. If Dyn had a plan, now would be a good time to spring it.

“Surrender,” Dyn whispered then winked at Alex. The attackers sneered at him.

The old DeadBlood counted down with his fingers. Three. Two. One.

“Surrender!” Alex barked out the edict at the same time Dyn and Haviana did. In addition, Dyn tipped over the pot. It had not been filled with coffee but instead a tincture of bloods.

When the mixture hit the fire, the flames sprang to the sky, crackling and popping.

To the one, each of the attackers threw down their weapons, a dazed expression on their faces.

“Alex, if you would?” Dyn indicated to the multitude of weapons laying on the ground.

Haviana frowned. “DeadBloods are as trusting as their defenses allow them to be.”

Alex hurried to fulfill the order as Dyn stated, “Leave now and I will spare you. Continue the fight and our next edict will be to die.”

A look passed amongst the attackers. The boy was the first to take off, then the rest melted back into the forest.

The injured man was the only one left standing. “This is not over.”

“When has it ever been?” Dyn replied, waving the man away.

With that the man limped away, following his cohorts.

Staring down at the huge pile of weapons, Alex could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Haviana rose, clutching the infant to her. “Well, at the least the baby wasn’t part of the conspiracy.”

Although her expression made it look like that might have been more of a question than a statement.

“You know, you could have warned a guy,” Alex moaned. That had been too close.

Dyn slapped him on the back. “And ruin the surprise? Never.”

* * *

Tyr found it hard to use his legs properly as they descended the steps to Lionel’s laboratory. This was worse than when he had been forced to ride non-stop from Palo Alto to the Fresnian border. Not that he was complaining.

Salista said they had done another two rounds. He wasn’t quite sure what that meant, however with this much pleasure he was not going to argue.

They had stopped by a small diner Salista favored and introduced him to something called chicken fried steak, which again, seemed odd since there was no chicken involved, but the steak, oh the steak had been better than anything Tyr had ever eaten. And the sausage gravy? It was like eating liquid heaven. And he’d dined at all the Royal courts yet his best meal to date had been in a small establishment built into a rail car.

The Gilded Age did have some things going for it.

Sal smiled as she opened the lab door.

“Guys! Great! Oh my gosh! You are going to love it!” Lionel said clapping his hands. The man seemed altered and not in a good way.

“Slow down, Lionel,” Salista said, going over and patting him on the arm.

“You aren’t going to believe this but I did it! Twelve espresso double shots later, and I’ve got artificial heartbroken blood!”

“That’s good, Lionel,” Salista stated. “But you should settle down. I’m slightly worried about you blowing an aneurysm.”

“Right, right, right.” Lionel said as he paced. Tyr was fairly certain that was not what Salista had in mind.

“Okay, so I think we should try the artificial stuff first and save the real blood, just in case it doesn’t work and I need to synthesize another batch,” Lionel said, running his words together in a long hard to understand stream.

“Lionel!” Salista barked. “Sit down.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Lionel said, finally sitting down and taking a deep breath. He sat still for about a moment then was tapping a pen on the desk. “Maybe that last one was over the top.”

“You think?” Sal asked.

“Can we go home now?” Tyr asked trying to cut through the near hysteria. He wanted fresh air again and to stroke the velvet of Hunter’s nose. He wanted away from the noisy contraptions. He wanted to go home.

Sal held up a hand. “Just give me a moment.”

Tyr sighed. Witches and warlocks never had any sense of urgency.

* * *

Salista kept her hand on Lionel’s arm. It seemed to be the only thing keeping him in his seat. “Do you have the proportions drawn up?”

Lionel nodded so fast that he nearly fell off his stool.

He pointed to the desk. There were two sets of syringes. One was labeled, “way forward” and the other “way back.”

She picked up the first one. “This takes us forward in time?”

Lionel again nodded very vigorously, but this time held onto the side of the desk to keep himself steady.

Which meant the other set of syringes should take them back in time if need be. “How did you synthesize the rabid bat blood?”

Lionel shrugged, his shoulders nearly hitting his earlobes. “Rabid bats are actually pretty common these days so there are lots of examples of the chemical breakdown on line.”

Even though Lionel was riding on a massive caffeine high and kind of bugging the crap out of her, she had to admire him. He’d used his espresso buzz to good work.

She grabbed both baggies of syringes and put the “back” packet into her bag and handed the other packet to Tyr.

“Let’s make a portal.”

“Wait,” Lionel said reaching out his shaking hand. “I want to come with you.”

Sal looked to Tyr who seemed none to pleased.

“Lionel, maybe I’ve romanticized the future too much. It is pretty brutal.”

The physicist pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I can handle it, I swear. I pinkie promise.”

Tyr’s frown only grew the more Lionel talked.

“Lionel, then your brain and everything you know will be in the same age as the beast. We simply can’t risk that.”

“But, but, but…” Lionel said, only stopping to take a gulping breath. “You are going to need me.”

Sal glanced over to Tyr. “How so?” the DeadBlood asked.

Lionel patted a large set of shelves crammed with hard drives. “Because you need this.”

Tyr seemed decidedly unimpressed. “And what exactly is ‘this?’”

“This is a databank I culled from the internet. Everything about northern California. Rainfall. Topography. Geological surveys. Everything and anything you could want to know about the place.”

“And why exactly would we need that?” Tyr asked.

Sal stepped in. She thought she knew where Lionel was going with this. “To try and thwart whatever plan the beast has for the bone.”

Lionel nodded, lashing out to grab hold of Sal to stop himself from falling down.

“Then why do we not just take these items and leave you here?” Tyr asked. The guy just wasn’t going to give in that easily.

“Um…because…well…I…”

Sal patted his arm. “Lionel is the genius here. He’d probably find the result ten times faster than I could, and I know how you like efficiency.”

Tyr couldn’t keep the frown and finally nodded. “Fine as long as we can leave now.”

* * *

If Alex never had to ride another horse, he would be fine by that. Jeep. That’s how he wanted to travel from now on. Even if he had to dig up his own oil, distill it and transport it, Alex was cool with that.

Finally, finally, finally they reached the gates. Guards rushed out to assist them.

Dyn dismounted, walking fairly gingerly. Alex was glad he wasn’t the only one.

“Is there good word, DeadBlood?” one of the guards asked.

“There is word,” Dyn stated, walking past.

Another guard offered to take the baby from Haviana. “Princess, Allow me.”

But Haviana shook her head, keeping the babe close to her chest. “I am fine.”

Rapidly they ascended the street that crawled through the walled city, striking for the royal citadel. There they would report to the king and queen.

Dyn set a hard pace. As Alex calves complained his thighs went into near revolt at the steep climb.

He really should have worked out more when he had the chance.

Even Haviana carrying the baby was kicking his ass.

Dyn slowed as they reached the royal entrance. “There will be questions. Answer as few as possible. As we have seen, we know not who we can trust.”

After they both nodded, Dyn nodded to the guard to open the door.

They went from peasant chic to royal glamor as they stepped over the threshold. Alex had forgotten how splendid the palace was.

And the most amazing site of all, no it wasn’t Alyssa. It was Tyr and Salista standing next to the King.

* * *

Tyr rushed down the steps to rejoin his thane. They hugged, clapping each other’s back. Any time you could welcome a DeadBlood back home was a good day.

“They attempted an ambush,” Dyn explained.

“Are you alright?” Salista asked, joining them.

“Yes, yes,” Dyn said, waving away her concern. “It was dealt with swiftly.”

To think Vitalis thought that they could be removed off the board by a simple ambush. His brother clearly had his thoughts elsewhere.

Dyn looked over Tyr’s shoulder at the physicist. “So you brought him along?”

It wasn’t an accusation nor was it exuberance at the notion.

“Salista thought he could help with the bone quandary,” Tyr explained.

“Ah, I had a thought on that as we rode in,” Dyn stated.

Before he could continue though, the Queen pointed to her daughter. “Haviana is that a baby you are holding?”

The womenfolk rushed down the steps to coo at the child.

“The babe was the bait for the ill-sprung trap,” Dyn stated.

Even Salista was drawn to the child even though she mumbled, “I should check on the infant’s health.”

He noticed though that Sal tickled the babe’s pink cheeks as much as any of the other women.

Tyr turned back to Dyn. “And your theory?”

“Alex calls them earthquakes,” Dyn said as much to Lionel as to Tyr.

The physicist nodded. “Oh man, yah, if he put that bone at one of the fault lines, holy crap.”

Tyr assumed that mini-tirade confirmed Dyn’s theory.

“What point would cause the most damage?”

Lionel held up a finger. “Working on it!”

CHAPTER 11

Sal kept an ear out for what the DeadBloods were discussing with Lionel, but she had to admit this little baby girl was making it hard. It seemed almost unthinkable that there could be such joy and beauty in the world alongside someone like Vitalis who wished to shatter it all apart. Ruining the world for his unborn child.

“We must away,” Tyr said. His deep tone clear to Sal amongst the other voices.

There was no more reason for her to stay with the infant. She had assessed several minutes ago that the baby was healthy. The babe had good gum color, steady heart rate and excellent skin turgor showing that she was well-hydrated.

Sal tickled the baby’s cheek one last time then turned back to the DeadBloods.

“What’s going on?” She hadn’t noticed before but Lionel had brought with him a bookcase filled with hard drives. A data farm. “Why would you bring this information to this age?”

Lionel shooed away her concern. “I wiped all the tech data,” he stated. “This is all the info I could collect about the area and its natural and manmade history.”

Given that those drives were twenty terabyte drives that was a hell of a lot of information.

Tyr turned to her. “We fear that Vitalis is planning to place the bone along the fault line to create a catastrophic earthquake.”

Yep, that sounded like Vitalis.

“I have determined the point at which would cause the absolute maximum damage,” Lionel said pointing to the screen. “It would be the Hayward fault, a branch of San Andreas down by Acton. Plus there is a large mine that goes pretty far down.”

Sal leaned over to read the map more closely. Tyr laid his hand on the small of her back. You know what? Thinking of the end of the world was a whole lot more pleasant under these circumstances. She didn’t recognize the town or the area as one of the biggest fears for the “Big One,” that could sink California into the ocean making Arizona waterfront property.

“But how would Vitalis know this?” Sal asked.

“Well, he could have one of his thralls do the research, right?” Alex suggested.

“I know, but look at the data Lionel had at his disposal plus an ultra fast processor. What about if Vitalis goes to Santa Cruz?”

Lionel stroked his chin, his gaze far off. “So you want me to do a statistical analysis of the media in our age to see the median range site?

Sal didn’t get half of that. “Sure.”

The physicist went back to his keyboard.

“I do not understand,” Tyr stated.

Sal rose, missing his hand on her back already. She reached out and touched his arm to keep up the connection. “While the beast has his guiles, he can only put under a thrall the weak minded. Nothing like Lionel’s ginormous brain.”

The physicist kept typing but smiled at that one. Sal continued, “Plus, I was close to him, Tyr, he is descending rapidly. I’m just not sure that he could find the best, exact position to put the bone. I think he has retreated to much more simple animal thinking. Fault. Bone. That’s about it.”

“So you admit he is no more than an animal?” Tyr shot back.

‘No, not at all. I’m saying that my recommendation is based on his devolving state. I would pick a site that someone from my age would be familiar with.”

Tyr hurmphed. His DeadBlood way of disagreeing without starting an argument.

She turned back to Lionel. “I heard that either the ‘Big One” will hit San Francisco or LA?”

Lionel nodded his head. “Yep, that’s the pop culture version, completely not based on any scientific evidence. The Acton quake would activate the other faults and eventually San Francisco and Los Angeles but those will be 8.0’s instead of 10’s.”

“I think we head back to San Francisco,” Sal stated.

“But what about LA, sis?” Alex said pointing to the other large red dot down in southern California. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on the City’s part but everyone I know was pretty convinced LA would be our undoing.”

Tyr looked to her. She couldn’t deny what Alex was saying. A lot of people thought that. Had Vitalis’ thrall thought the same?

“Then we must split up,” Dyn stated. “A pair of us head back to San Francisco, another pair to Los Angeles.”

Sal nodded. They had to cover their bases.

* * *

Tyr turned to his sister. “I assume you wish to come along?”

Oddly her face clouded over as she shook her head. “I should stay here, defend the castle in case Vitalis attacks again.”

Sound reasoning, except for the fact that Haviana was unconsciously rocking back and forth with the baby. He felt the infant was more the reason that Haviana was reluctant to go out in the field.

He would not argue with her though. No matter where Vitalis set up, the traps would be conniving. He did not wish his sister that fate.

Tyr turned to Salista, but she already had her arms across her chest and that look on her face.

“I don’t have baby fever,” Salista stated rather forcibly. “So just try, try to talk me out of going.”

Tyr did not bother. There would be no winning that argument. Short of hitting her over the head and locking her in the dungeon, Salista was going. And he was glad to have her. She seemed to understand his brother in a way that no one else did.

“So we head to San Francisco?” Tyr suggested. “Whilst Dyn and Alex head to your city of angels?”

Salista shook her head. “I think that Alex is right with the bias in San Francisco that Southern California is where the “Big One” will hit. I changed my mind, I think you and I need to head to Los Angeles.”

Alex stepped forward. “Um, how are you going to get there quickly enough?” he asked. “I assume there is some old plane in storage somewhere.”

Tyr looked to Salista. He believed that her younger brother was suggesting they get into one of those flying contraptions. “No, we will ride.”

“Wait,” Salista said. “He is right. We can make, what ten miles per hour on horseback?” Tyr nodded so she continued. “So that will be at least forty hours to get there. By that time Vitalis could have already set off the bone.”

“Then how will we get there any sooner than him?” Tyr asked.

The King rose from his throne and descended the steps to join them. His father, Tyr corrected. It was his father coming to join the discussion. It was so odd to think of the King in that way.

When Tyr was a child, after a particularly hard day of training, he would fanticize about his family coming to get him. To live in the Royal Palace. He dreamed of it at night. Once he crossed the threshold from boy to man though, he put aside that fanciful thinking. He accepted the realities of being a DeadBlood. Tyr had put his family and his possible alternative life aside.

Now it stared him straight in the face. Literally.

“We have reports that one of the ancient steam trains was seen making its way south.

Tyr looked to Salista who looked like she had been punched in the mid-region.

“If Vitalis has a train. He can be in Acton by night fall.”

“Then plane it is,” Tyr stated.

Sal frowned. “Who can fly though? This isn’t like driving a Jeep. If you make a single error, then you crash and you die.”

Tyr’s frown met his intended’s.

* * *

Alex stepped forward. “I can do it,” he said.

No one looked like they believed him. “Come on, I’m a certified pilot on Microsoft’s Flight Simulator X.”

Sal shook her head. “That’s a video game.”

“No, yes, but Mom got me the whole set of realistic gear, with flap pedals and everything for Christmas last year. It is just like flying a real plane.”

“Is it now?” Salista snapped. His sister could have a fiery temper when she wanted to. “So the FAA accepts this certificate and would have let you fly in our age?”

She knew dang straight they wouldn’t have so he didn’t even bother to respond to her. “Okay, sis, so who can fly the plane.”

“Is there even one to fly?” Salista asked the King.

The man frowned. “It is not well known but the Queen has an extensive collection of antiques.”

“Does she?” Tyr shot back. “She is a woman of many secrets.”

Alex didn’t know what the heck that was about, however Alex didn’t want any piece of the family drama. He had enough of his own.

“Great. So let’s get going.”

Tyr however held up a hand as he turned to his thane, Dyn. “What are your thoughts?”

The old man frowned, his jaw clenching and unclenching. “If we divide I would go alone to San Francisco, allow the three of you to go to the South since all indications are that he headed in that direction.”

“Alone?” Tyr questioned.

“What other option do we have?”

Tyr didn’t answer.

“So are we going or what?” Alex asked.

“Salista and I are taking the plane to Los Angeles. You will go with Dyn to San Francisco.”

Alex put his hands up in the universal “time out” position. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, what happened to me flying?”

“There is blood magic to accomplish flight, it is usually not used due to the expense of the blood, however I am sure Lionel can conjure a vial for me.”

The physicist nodded a little too vigorously for Alex. “You got it, man.”

“But… but…but…” Alex really couldn’t voice his strong objection, because let’s face it he hadn’t really gotten his full certificate. His landings were a little too bumpy. What he really wanted to avoid was another lengthy horseback ride. His thighs would never forgive him.

Dyn patted him on the back. “Do not worry. You can drive the Jeep.”

Alex had never been more grateful for such words in his entire life.

* * *

Tyr turned to leave but his mother, the Queen blocked his way. The rest of the room melted into the hallways. The DeadBlood to begin their journey. The servants to fortify the castle’s protections.

They could not be too careful.

But that left him with no protection from his own mother. Even Haviana and Salista had disappeared from view.

“Tyr, please, can we not talk before you go?”

“No,” Tyr answered trying to get past her.

“There is so much we should discuss before you go…where you must go.”

“I am not arguing that we must talk, Mother, but not now. Not the way things are. We shall discuss this all when we return.”

“If you return,” his mother corrected.

“It is shocking that you have Haviana do all the public speaking.”

His mother’s lips cracked into a smile. “Yes, she is by far the tactful one.”

Tyr, for the first time in perhaps his life, looked at the woman who birthed him in the eye. “Mother, I must face Vitalis. The fate of the realm rests on this encounter. Can I not believe in the world that I know? You can shatter my life after I come back? Can you give me that?”

The Queen backed up a step. “Yes, I am sorry. I wish to unburden my heart, but you are right. You must be of sound mind to win the day.”

For some reason he reached out, putting his palm on her arm. This time he was not shocked by the lack of intent. She was as DeadBlood as he. How things had changed for him to find some comfort in that.

“I shall return,” he said.

Tears ran down her cheeks, streaking black down her pale skin. “Of course you will.”

Salista reentered the great hall. “Are you coming or what?”

He waved to her, but turned to his mother before he left. “We will find resolution.”

“Of course, of course,” she said shooing him away, wiping her nose with a handkerchief. “Go. Go.”

Tyr rushed down the steps to meet Salista at the archway.

“You and your mom, okay?”

Tyr took her hand and guided her down the hallway that led to the back courtyard. “As good as can be expected.”

* * *

Sal wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but she knew Tyr. If he didn’t want to talk about it, he wasn’t going to talk about it. She respected his boundaries.

This time.

They exited the castle through the small side door finding Alex grinding the gears to the Jeep. And he wanted to fly the plane? Right.

“Not too late, sis,” Alex said. “We can still switch it up.”

“No, thank you. I’d rather trust in blood magic right about now.”

“Your loss,” Alex stated as he drove backwards into a tree before correcting his err.

Tyr loaded into the Jeep. Apparently the Queen’s collection was housed in a hanger not far to the north of the castle.

Sal was about to climb in when Lionel ran up. “Got it!”

She wasn’t expecting him to come with the blood for another few hours. They were going to use the time to get the plane in flying shape. Supposedly the Queen had kept the plane in immaculate condition, but still it had been centuries since it had been flown.

Panting, Lionel held out a vial. A jumbo vial.

“How did you get it so quickly?”

The physicist shrugged. “I already had rooted blood. It wasn’t hard to make the changes Dyn suggested.”

“Great. Thanks,” Sal said, going to close the Jeep door except Lionel stopped her and climbed in.

“Um, what are you doing, Lionel?”

“Going with you,” the physicist said, trying to secure his new leather belt that had a dagger scabbard. The guy was branching out, that was for sure.

“Not to be impolite, but what are we going to need you for?” Sal asked.

“Look, I’m always stuck in my lab and now I don’t even have that,” Lionel said. “And I don’t know what you are going to need me for, but isn’t that the point. There are a lot of question marks here and I’m your answer guy.”

Sal looked to Tyr. He frowned but didn’t comment. So Sal scooted over and allowed the physicist to sit down next to her. Alex popped the clutch a little too soon and jumped the Jeep forward a good three feet.

The look on Lionel’s face kind of said that he was already questioning his decision to go out into the field with them.

* * *

Tyr watched as the men opened the hangar’s doors. There was a small aircraft. He’d seen much larger ones flying over the city when he had been back in Salista’s time.

It looked like it could barely fit him, Salista and now the warlock.

The plane rolled out. What was the Gilded Age’s fascination with moving faster and faster? Except in an extreme situation as trying to stop Vitalis from blowing his kingdom into the ocean, why would one need to travel so quickly? Did the people of that time not miss the companionship of their horses? Seeing the world around them?

He missed Hunter far more than he would like to admit. He liked the feeling of them moving as one. The feel of hoof fall. When would his life return to the pace that was to his liking?

Certainly not now as Alex went through a “pre-flight” checklist. He was acting very official under his sister’s keen eye. The plane was being filled with filtered fuel. Lionel was overseeing that process.

“Can you believe it?” Salista commented beside him.

“This is a time of great flux,” Tyr stated. In too many ways to count truly.

Salista leaned against him. “Some turned out to be pretty good, though, right?’

He bent over and kissed the top of her head. “The best.”

Alex waved them over, “Okay, let’s go through this checklist.”

Tyr shook his head. “There will be no need.”

“But this is a complicated instrument. A complex machine.”

“And its intent is what?” Tyr asked. Alex’s schooling was far from done.

He looked down, suddenly seeing the bigger picture. “To fly. The plane wants to fly.”

Tyr nodded. “If I show enough respect, it shall fly where I ask and bring us down safely.”

Salista’s hand slipped into his. He noted that it shook just a little.

Tyr did not deny this would be a feat worthy of a tale to be sung in the taverns, however he did not doubt. He did not flinch. Tyr might not be the biggest DeadBlood. Or the most deadly with a blade. His specialty was forming deep bonds with any item he used blood magic upon. He forced nothing and asked for everything. The item usually responded favorably.

This would be his greatest challenge, yet he already felt a kinship with the plane. He might not agree with the motives of the Gilded Age denizens for creating the flying contraption, but that was not the plane’s fault. The plane was small but had a scrappy attitude. The nose of the plane stuck up, defiant. Like, yes I am small, but I can get you there.

Tyr thought he could communicate with this machine in a way its creators only imagined.

“You ready?” Salista asked.

He patted the side of the metal stroking it as he would Hunter. “Yes, yes, I believe I am.”

“Wait for me!” Lionel squealed behind them.

Tyr turned to find the small man nearly under his arm.

“Sorry, sorry, just didn’t want you to leave me behind.”

Now why in the world would Lionel think that?

CHAPTER 12

Sal had embraced the idea that Tyr was going to fly the plane with blood magic, however sitting her in the co-pilot seat, the reality was testing her faith a bit.

Lionel was too busy back in his seat, reorganizing his papers to really care. Plus he seemed to have blind faith in Tyr. He hadn’t been there when the DeadBlood had barely skimmed by. Blood magic had its limits. And Sal was beginning to fear that this might be one of them.

And her as co-pilot? That made her even more terrified. Not only couldn’t she fly the plane mechanically, nor could she step in with intent if Tyr somehow lost control. She’d rather not descend into a beast at ten thousand feet thank you very much.

Tyr though looked unperturbed as he glanced across the instrumentation. Did he know what any of them meant? She didn’t think so. He pulled out the vial that Lionel had given him and smashed it against the yoke.

“Fly!” he commanded.

It would have all seemed ludicrous except that the plane fired up and started down the runway.

The DeadBlood put his hands on the yoke, he knew not to steer but to connect with the plane on a…for a better word, spiritual level. And the plane seemed to be reveling in it.

The plane wanted to fly and probably had wanted to fly for centuries. Hopefully all of its bottled up intent would get them down to Los Angeles.

“Okay, if we can get up in the air,” Lionel said as the plane rattled down the dirt runway. “We should be able to get to Acton a good six hours before Vitalis.”

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have guards down there, Lionel.”

That seemed to subdue the physicist. “Oh,” was all he said.

Yah, when it came to beasts “oh” was right

* * *

Alex bounced the Jeep over a rock. Dyn’s hand lashed out to brace against the dashboard. Amazing how a simple action could be so recriminating. He didn’t have to look at the elder DeadBlood’s face to know that he was none too thrilled with Alex’s driving.

But hey, he couldn’t help the terrain. Granted he could have driven slower, but they were kind of in a hurry. They weren’t headed to the heart of San Francisco. Instead they were angling south to the Santa Cruz area. That was truly where the head of the fault line lay.

Everyone knew that. Or least they hoped that Vitalis had.

“We cannot let our guard down. Even if Vitalis went south, that does not mean he did not lay a trap for us here as well.

Yah, that Vitalis was such the party animal. He knew how to throw quite the shindig. How could it be worse than the rabid bats though?

From the look on Dyn’s face, it could be worse. A lot worse.

Alex turned his attention back to the road as he let his mind wander. This was the best part about driving, beyond all the other cool parts. But being able to drive and daydream was the coolest. Plus it felt like his brain just worked better when he was driving.

It was kind of like a high. Not like getting drunk. He’d never done cocaine, as much as his gang might have liked him to. While driving he felt alive. Aware. Smarter. A better him. Who knew driving was such a rush?

“Hey,” Alex said. “What do you think Vitalis’ end game would have been if we’d brought the kid into the castle?”

“I don’t know,” Dyn answered.

“I mean, what could one 5 year old have done?”

“That is a very good question,” Dyn responded. “You think that Vitalis had something greater in mind?”

“Well, don’t you? I mean the guy isn’t into small statements is he? He likes to make big ones, right?”

“Hopefully we cut his plan short.”

“Yah, hopefully,” Alex said as he got them over a large mud mogul.

* * *

Black clouds dotted the horizon. Not exactly a huge storm front, but it did give Sal some pause. So far the flight had been without incident. Tyr had been right. The plane did want to fly. As soon as they had taken off, the plane tipped side to side as if to feel the caress of the wind as it flowed over its wings.

It had nearly joyfully flown them south. According to Lionel’s landmarks, they were nearly three-quarters of the way to Acton. They had even passed a train on the way down. It looked like they really could beat Vitalis at his own game.

Then a warning light came on. Low fuel. Lionel had calculated it out though. They should have enough fuel to land at the remnants of the Burbank airport. It was going to be close, but they should make it.

“Is it just me or is that weather pattern moving in an odd pattern?” Lionel asked from the back seat.

The physicist was correct. The clouds were heading straight for the plane rather than with the wind which was blowing west to east.

And they weren’t clouds. They were birds. Thousands of them.

As the “clouds” neared Sal could make out a few larger “birds” leading the flocks. Those were no birds. Those were men descended into winged creatures.

Sal glanced over to Tyr. This they had not expected.

He pressed her hands against the yoke in front of her. “Do not press. Do not use more intent than you need. Just ask her to keep flying no matter the disturbance.”

She gulped. As much as she had loved using intent, she had nearly paid the ultimate price.

“I got you,” Lionel said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “I won’t let you go too far.”

Tyr rose. “I shall meet them head on,” he said as he headed to the back of the plane.

In this small of an aircraft there was no flight deck door so when Tyr opened the hatch the wind whipped her hair. Lionel’s papers went everywhere.

The creatures were closing in rapidly. She could see a man’s nose that had become a bright orange beak. Most people descended into the animal they were most like or most wished to be. Usually you could identify the species. But here these corrupted souls looked like designer bird-men.

Which made them even more creepy.

The birds behind them must have been in thrall. There was no other way to get that many birds to move together at once. And there were some serious birds out there.

Sal looked back to see Tyr exit the plane. What the heck was he doing? She thought he was going to just fight them at the door.

She tried not to allow her panic to reach her fingertips. The plane needed all the reassurance it could get.

She was hopeful until the first bird-creature landed on the front windshield, scraping its huge talons across the glass, causing long, huge scratches.

This was not going to be pretty.

* * *

Tyr hung onto the strut that ran between the plane and the wing. He was hoping to take up position on the wing, however his leap had not been quite far enough. Therefore he was half on the plane and half off.

An eagle beast shrieked as he plunged in for the attack. As if Tyr hadn’t battled bird-beasts before. Tyr waited until the last moment. The moment when those talons, opened wide came for him.

He slashed with his sword, cutting through the tendons just under the skin of the foot. The eagle screamed in pain this time and reeled away. Another came at him and suffered the same fate.

What would Salista say? “I can do this all day.”

Except the other beasts became more cautious, just harassing him rather than pressing a full out attack.

Fine by him. Perhaps it was time to take the fight to the beasts.

He still had some grounded blood on his hands from the yoke. He smeared it on his jacket. Tyr flung his arms wide.

“Fly,” he whispered as he threw himself off the plane.

* * *

“No!” Salista screamed as she watched Tyr plummet toward the ground.

Yet he was not done for. He landed on the back of the largest bird-beasts. But just when he seemed safe, Tyr put his blade to the beast’s throat and sliced across it.

Red blood splashed across the white chest feathers. The bird tried to flap his wings, but didn’t have the strength. He pitched over, tumbling backward. Tyr flung himself from the dying bird.

Before she could scream again, Tyr landed on another bird-beast. This one cranked his head around, pecking at Tyr with its large, long beak. The DeadBlood arched over, cutting off the tip of the beak.

The bird panicked, flapping crazily. Tyr hung on around the bird’s neck as it lost altitude. No other bird-beast was even close as the swarm of birds flew all around the plane, blocking her view.

“You’ve got to get under him,” Lionel stated.

“Sure, you wanna give that a try?” Sal shot back.

“The plane likes, Tyr, right?” Lionel asked.

Yes, the plane did seem to take to her DeadBlood.

“Then use that. The plane likes to fly, but not necessarily in a straight line,” Lionel reasoned as huge black crows hit the windshield.

Sal tried to block out their beady little eyes as she tightened her grip on the yoke. She imagined the plane dipping down, flying under the bird cloud and positioning under Tyr.

Nothing happened.

Sighing, Sal concentrated harder, but not hard enough to make her descend. Not again. She didn’t want that roar at the back of her head. Never again.

“Ask it nicely,” Lionel said.

Great. Now she had a back seat driver for blood magic. The best.

As Tyr fell from the sky, Sal could do only one thing. She took her hands off the yoke and shook them out.

Fear, stress or despair interfered with intent. She had to let it all go.

As she laid her hands on the yoke she whispered, “Please.” Remembering how sensitive her laptop could be.

The plane reacted nearly violently to her command, dipping its nose nearly diving for the ground. They sliced through the swarming flock, finally finding open air. The bird-beast that Tyr was riding, was desperately trying to flap, keeping itself from falling to the earth, but they were losing height fast.

“Crap, they’re coming,” Lionel stated looking out the window.

Sal couldn’t worry about that. She could only worry about Tyr at the moment.

She focused on the DeadBlood. Imagined her swooping in under him, catching him. Then she thought of everything she would do with him once they got to the ground.

Okay, that was probably TMI for the plane.

“You alright?” Lionel asked. “Your cheeks are flushed.”

“No, I’m good,” Sal said, trying not to blush any more. “The plane and I are getting along pretty well.

But as Tyr still plummeted to the ground would it be well enough?

* * *

Tyr felt the air rush into his face. His hair flapped behind him. All in all if you were going to die, this wasn’t the worst way. Next time though, if he got a next time, he probably wouldn’t cripple the bird he was riding until he had another one to jump onto.

Hindsight was always best wasn’t it?

His fingers were slipping as the thrall crows hit him, clawing at him, pecking at him.

It wouldn’t be long then. He was glad he’d told Salista he loved her. He regretted not talking to his Mother. He wished he’d told his sister he was proud of her.

All the things he would not get to do when he hit that ground.

Vitalis and his beast army.

If one of the sons shouldn’t have been born, it certainly was the older.

Funny, out of how many times he nearly died, he’d never really cared. Once the fear left you, there was just acceptance. This time that was not the case as the bird careened this way and that.

He, for the first time, wanted to live. Was angry at death. Not now. Just not now.

But now it was, as his fingers lost their grip on the bird’s neck and a fistful of feathers came out in his hand.

There were no more. He was out of time.

Freefalling he watched the birds swarm above him, their collective caws filling his ears. They outdid even the wind.

Then he hit something. What could he hit? His fingers found purchase as did his feet. He was on the top of the plane’s wing.

What?

His body was not catching up with current events. His stomach still felt in his mouth and he was still bracing for impact.

He pulled himself up to the front of the wing, leaning over the side.

There was Salista, smiling, waving like crazy. And no fur on her nose so that was good.

* * *

Alex ground the gear, trying to slow them down. Okay, maybe he had taken that hill a little too fast. Maybe. Okay, for sure.

“Alex,” Dyn growled. Amazing how much like Tyr he sounded. It must have been a DeadBlood thing.

“I’m on it,” Alex stated as he pumped the brakes. Of course they had hit a smooth patch so the Jeep was sliding down the hill and Alex could do very little about it.

“Hang on!” Alex yelled as he completely lost control of the Jeep.

He could only watch as they swished from side to side down the dew slick grass.

There were several large trees at the base of the hill. He tried his best to aim for the space in the middle but the steering wheel really didn’t seem to care what he did.

And there it was, a huge oak, right smack dab in the path. They were going to crash into, going about forty-five miles per hour he might add.

Then Dyn put out his hands. “Stop!” he barked.

The Jeep squealed to stop two thirds down the hill.

They were both thrown forward, Dyn hitting his head upon the roll bar.

Alex blinked several times, his vision swimming.

Dyn looked to him. “Turn around. Get us back to the castle.”

“No,” Alex said. “I can do this. I’ll be more careful, I swear!”

“Never mind that, boy, get us to the King.”

“But --”

“No, buts Alex. There is danger afoot. The baby is the attack.”

He had absolutely no idea what that meant, but he cranked the Jeep’s wheel around, heading straight back up that hill.

* * *

Sal finally quit her teenage girl waving. She could understand that Tyr was not exactly in a position to wave back, however he did grace her with a rare yet broad smile.

He hauled himself up so that his knees were tucked under him. Sal feared he was about to leap when he finally let go with one hand and motioned down.

Like land?

Apparently that was the case. However, landing was difficult even under the best of circumstances with an experienced pilot, and with all the crows and bird beasts and her not even Microsoft certified, they were in trouble.

“Oh no,” Lionel said.

“What?”

“Look,” he replied pointing out the sky, but all she could see was sky. Wait, where did all the birds go? Sal had to crane her neck to look upward as all the birds headed straight up.

“What are they doing?”

“I think getting ready to dive bomb us.”

No, it couldn’t be. But of course the birds weren’t really just birds right now. They were thrall, under the control of the bird-beasts.

“Get in!” Sal screamed at Tyr pointing to the hatch. “Get back in.”

She pointed up. He gave a glance then nodded.

“We still better land,” Lionel stated. “Because if the beasts realize all they have to do is a sacrifice a few birds into our engines, we’re toast.”

The physicist was such a pick-me-up.

Sal tried to clear her mind again. Each time it seemed harder though. Like you could only write on a blank page once then after that it was like erasing a chalkboard. Some of the writing still shone through.

But this was important. Super important.

Okay, but she couldn’t even think about that. She had to stay focused on not being focused.

Oy.

Tyr and Dyn always made it look so easy, but then again they were DeadBlood.

With a sigh, Sal tried to shake off all the anxiety and worry. Tyr would make it inside the plane. They would land. They would stop Vitalis.

But only if she could get her hands to stop shaking.

Willing them to be still, she thought one clear thing. “Land.”

The plane leveled off as Tyr climbed inside.

“We’ve got to land,” he said.

“All over it, big guy,” Lionel said, indicating Tyr should take a seat. He went to go past the physicist, but Lionel blocked his way. “She’s got this.”

Sal was glad for the vote of confidence from the doctor, however she would not in any way say that she had it at all under control.

Tyr grunted, trying to get past Lionel but the physicist wouldn’t back down.

“You know a LiveBlood and DeadBlood cancel each other out,” Lionel explained.

No, no. Sal did not know that.

CHAPTER 13

Alex was flooring it, hitting potholes way too fast, nearly flinging them from the vehicle, but strangely Dyn wasn’t complaining this time. After his uber cryptic statement, the older DeadBlood hadn’t said anything. He let his frown do the communicating for him.

“So what’s up with the baby?” Alex finally asked. He didn’t doubt Dyn, not a bit. He was just a little fuzzy on the details.

“Do you remember the child’s rosy cheeks?”

“Sure, they were super cute.”

Dyn shook his head. “That was not a sign of health, I believe it was the residue of blood magic.”

“What kind of blood magic would do that?” Alex asked. He had comprehended about 0.05% of blood magic so he wasn’t surprised he hadn’t picked up on anything about the baby.

“It is evil and cruel so I should have assumed that Vitalis would use it,” Dyn stated. “Blood magic can be used to augment disease. It can shorten the incubation period and worsen the symptoms.”

“But why the baby?” Alex asked, clutching to the steering wheel with one hand while down shifting with the other.

“You are the one that brought it to my attention.”

“Me?” Alex squeaked. There was no way that could be right.

But Dyn nodded. “You questioned Vitalis’ motives and suggested that we thwarted him too easily, too quickly.”

Well, ya, Alex had done that, but only because he liked to play the devil’s advocate.

“I thought upon it. Vitalis is by far too clever to have put his trust in the boy. It was the babe he wanted in the castle all along.”

Alex sucked in a deep breath. He was starting to see the bigger plan and it wasn’t pretty. It was awful as a matter of fact. “He meant to poison the castle?”

Dyn nodded. “He knew Haviana’s love for children, especially babies. He knew she would never abandon that child to an orphanage. He used her to bring an infected child into the castle.”

Alex had always hated Vitalis. What wasn’t there to hate? But now? Using a baby to infect a castle. That was low. Like lower than beast low.

Now he could see why Dyn wanted him to put the pedal to the metal.

Alex obliged.

* * *

Tyr stood by, helpless as Salista tried to convince the plane to land. It wasn’t going all that well and the flock was almost upon them.

“You can do this,” he encouraged but had a hard time keeping the frustration from his voice. She was LiveBlood trying to do a DeadBlood’s task. Lionel, unfortunately, was correct. To have her give up and have him try to reestablish a connection would take too long.

The flock hit all at once, diving down, plunging into the plane with their beaks, trying to down the plane with sheer force. Unfortunately if it were only sheer force, that would be one thing, but Lionel, again for his lack of vigor was correct. Many of the birds flew into their engines.

There were several pops, the smell of burning flesh, then the left engine caught on fire. Then the right. Suddenly they were in freefall. Spinning around and around, falling without any control. They would be splatter on the ground within moments if something wasn’t done.

“Forget about the landing,” Tyr encouraged. “Focus on only its true intent. To fly.”

Salista nodded although he wasn’t sure she had really taken it all in.

Almost too little to notice, the plane stopped spinning quite so hard. Then it straightened out, the nose coming up. The engines were still ablaze, but the plane was doing its best to glide them down.

“Yes, yes,” Tyr encouraged. “It wishes to survive this mess as well as we do, use that.”

Again with the nod. Salista’s normally full lips were pulled tight into a straight line. Perspiration beaded her forehead.

“There!” Lionel pointed to a fairly flat area at the base of the mountains.

The plane tilted on its own, aiming for the runway. It must have been a manmade structure to be so linear and smooth. It was just buried under several feet of dirt.

The skin over Salista’s knuckles was stretched thin. He could see every dip and groove of the bones in her hand.

“Tell me again how I can do this?” Sal said in a shaky voice.

He stepped forward, putting his hands on her shoulders. “You can do this.”

She looked up for just a moment and smiled. “I got this.”

And Salista did. Smoothly, despite having both engines on fire, the plane glided to a landing. The wheels hit hard, but the plane rolled to a stop.

“You did it!” Tyr said, embracing his amazing witch.

* * *

All of Sal’s muscles were quivering. Also she couldn’t take her hands off the yoke. She would have loved to but for now it seemed that she and the plane were bound. Sal would love to hug Tyr back, but she just couldn’t pry her fingers off the plastic.

“Uh oh,” Lionel said from the back seat.

That did not sound good. She didn’t even have to ask him as the sky darkened. Not due to clouds but due to crows. They descended in a swarm upon the plane.

Beaks pecked at the already cracked glass as the fire from the engines spread to the wings.

“We really need to get out of here,” Lionel said. “Before the fire reaches the fuel tanks.”

Yes, but how? This was like the Hitchcock movie The Birds, only the descended beast version.

Tyr released his hug, standing upright. The DeadBlood pulled his arms to his chest, then flung them out. “Be gone!” he shouted.

The birds tumbled away, flapping frantically, but unable to go forward.

Tyr headed for the door as an engine exploded flinging fire against the fuselage. It wouldn’t be long now.

Sal got Lionel up and headed to the door as well. There was about a hundred foot ring around the plane that was bird free.

Clutching his papers to his chest, Lionel stumbled out of the plane. -him before he face planted.

“I said, be gone!” Tyr shouted again, forcing the birds back even further. Now as long as the plane didn’t explode they might make it out of here alive.

That was her opinion until one of the large descended beasts flew in, coming straight for Tyr.

He held his sword horizontal over his head.

“Please, try me,” Tyr whispered barely loud enough for Sal to hear, but apparently the bird-beast had excellent hearing as it wheeled in the sky, abruptly changing course, disappearing back into the flock of crows.

“Challenge me or leave,” Tyr growled.

Apparently none of the remaining bird-beasts was quite up to it as the flock suddenly broke rank and the birds scattered in all directions.

That was the difference between a LiveBlood and a DeadBlood. No matter how hard they tried, they could never match the DeadBlood’s ability to manipulate intent.

Soon the skies were once again clear.

She rushed to Tyr, hugging him as he deserved to be hugged.

“You were amazing,” she gushed, not helping that she had become his biggest fan girl.

He hugged her back, putting his chin on the top of her head. “This will not be the last of it though.”

Cheerleader, he was not.

Lionel picked up his papers. “On the bright side, this does help confirm Sal’s suspicion that Vitalis is going to place the bone down here if he put up defenses like these.”

Sal reluctantly parted from Tyr. She could only hope that Lionel was right about her being right.

Not that she was all that eager to find out what Vitalis had in store for them in Acton.

“We need to get moving if we are to get there before Vitalis,” Tyr stated, taking her hand, moving away from the poor burning plane. There was no real reason to try to put the fire out now, nearly the entire thing had been consumed.

Sal looked over to find Lionel heading in the other direction, toward a grove of trees.

“What are you doing?”

“Please, I can’t make it up and over the Grapevine,” Lionel said pointing toward the ribbon of land that headed over the mountains. Sal knew it well. If you wanted to travel from Northern to Southern California, you had to take the mountain pass nicknamed the Grapevine for the way it snaked through the foothills.

“But what about us needing you at any moment?” Sal asked.

Lionel shrugged. “I will continue researching, but I’ll just slow you down if I go.”

“That is true,” Tyr said with no real inflection. He wasn’t trying to hurt Lionel’s feelings, he was just used to uttering the truth.

Sal sighed. “Alright. Take care of yourself,” she said.

“Don’t worry about me,” Lionel replied. “I’m a good hider.”

He’d best be because those bird-beasts might not have gone too far.

* * *

Alex hadn’t used the brake in what seemed like an entirely unsafe amount of time, even for him. But the castle was in view and he wasn’t about to slow down now.

The disconcerting thing was there were no guards at the gate, nor were there any on the ramparts.

Dyn’s hands were on the dash as if he could push the Jeep ahead any faster.

This was going to be bad.

He slammed on the brakes as they came up to the gate. Sliding, the Jeep’s side hit the wall and bounced back. Seatbelts flew off as they clamored out of the vehicle.

Dyn pounded on the gate, but no one replied. He eyed upward then pointed to the Jeep.

“We’ll have to get you over the wall,” Dyn instructed. The older man must have read Alex’s thoughts. “Do not be worried. We are DeadBlood, we cannot be infected with whatever has afflicted the castle.”

Okay, that made him feel slightly better, but not completely. What would he find inside the castle?

There was no waiting though so Alex climbed up on top of the Jeep with Dyn. Dyn laced his fingers together to give Alex a boost. Funny how some things hadn’t changed at all over the past five hundred years.

Alex put his foot into the proffered palms and gave a jump as Dyn aided him. He barely got his fingers over the ledge as his feet scrambled to gain purchase. Finally the point of his boot found a toehold and he pushed himself up and over the ledge.

He landed on something squishy. Not good.

Righting himself, Alex rose up to find himself in a pool of blood and tissue. Like he said, not good.

Not really wishing to look, Alex crept along the parapet. He came around the corner to find three men collapsed on the stone. Blood leaked from the men’s eyes and noses. Even though Dyn said he couldn’t catch it, Alex didn’t get any further. He could see that the men’s chests rose and fell. Slowly and shallow, but they were breathing.

He leaned over the ledge. “I’ve got men down.”

Dyn nodded. It didn’t look like the DeadBlood was at all surprised. “You won’t be able to lift the gate alone, so there should be a rope ladder every hundred feet. Throw that over for me.”

Another hundred feet? He was nauseated just by the ten feet he’d traveled. And he couldn’t just look up at the sky and travel, he had to avoid puddles like the one he’d landed in.

Bracing himself, Alex stepped forward. There were at least another two victims along the stone. He carefully picked his way through them until he found the rope ladder that Dyn had described. Alex threw it over the side.

Dyn trotted over and with a grace and strength that no old man should have, the DeadBlood climbed the ladder and joined Alex on the rampart.

The older man had no squeamishness about touching the ill. “This is worse than I had imagined.”

That wasn’t good because Dyn seemed like he could imagine a lot.

“We must make haste to the Royal Chambers.”

No kidding.

* * *

Sal’s feet hurt already and they were barely up the southern slope. There was another good fourteen miles to go. Where was a horse when you really needed one?

Tyr however set a grueling pace. She was no slouch, but come on. They were going nearly straight uphill and yet he didn’t let up.

She couldn’t help it but every few feet she found herself scanning the skies, making sure the bird-beasts weren’t making another appearance. She scanned the valley below to find Lionel, but he seemed well hidden. At least from her. From the super acute eyes of a bird-beast? Perhaps not.

In the fraction of a second Sal had been distracted, Tyr had pulled ahead by several dozen feet. How did he do that? Was he using blood magic on the sly?

She hustled to catch up. Her thighs burned in protest, but finally they were up the first hill. The foothills rolled along in front of them. The path of the old I-5 slicing a trail between them.

“We will never make it in time.”

“Wait,” Sal said. “I think there is a shortcut over to the High Desert.” It had been so long ago. Of course it had been for a guy that she visited the desolate High Desert. She remembered a turn-off took you straight east instead of having to travel south then east.

Shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun, she scanned the valley. A glint of metal keyed her in.

“There,” she said. “That is an old sign post. We can take that trail and cut about ten miles from our journey.”

Tyr grunted as he was prone to do then led her down the sloping hill.

Who needed a gym when you hung around a DeadBlood?

* * *

Alex had to trot to keep up with Dyn. He was making a bee-line to the royal palace. They passed dozens upon dozens, perhaps hundreds of the ill. They could do nothing for them so they headed to the royal quarters. Dyn had mumbled something about creating a cure, but he needed the baby first.

It was odd to walk up the large gilded doors to find no guards to block their way. Someone should not be able to just walk into the royal palace, but that’s exactly what they did.

More illness, everywhere. And these people seemed more advanced than those outside, but that made sense. The baby was in here so the ones closest to the infant would be the first infected.

Alex tried not to think of it, but Alyssa’s face swam in his vision. He didn’t know if he could handle it to see her eyes bleeding and grey lips.

Dyn set a pace though that didn’t allow for much daydreaming.

Finally they made their way to the banquet hall and throne room. Everyone was down.

Where were the Queen and Haviana? They were DeadBlood. They should still be fine. If, of course, Dyn was correct.

“Haviana!” Dyn shouted out. His words echoed through the empty hall making Alex feel a twinge of despair.

The concern? Even this was not Vitalis’ end game. More than likely he wanted to disable the defenses then take over the castle, the kingdom. Finally reclaim the birthright that had been stripped from the beast.

Dyn turned sharply. “Did you hear that?”

Alex had not, but the older DeadBlood was seldom wrong.

“To the bedchambers,” Dyn stated, heading off at a sprint.

Alex pounded along after him. They exited the hall and took the long, wide sweeping hallway toward the royal bedchambers.

Then Alex heard it. Sobbing. Soul-shattering sobs.

They burst into Haviana’s room to find her doubled over the baby, crying. “I did this. All this,” she said, raising her tear-stained face. All around the room lay her ladies in waiting, dying.

Dyn rushed over to comfort her. “No, Vitalis did this. And we can fix it but I’m going to need your help.”

“Anything,” Haviana gulped.

Alex surveyed the room. No Alyssa. Was that a good or bad thing?

* * *

They had made good time. Not great time. At the least this side road wasn’t quite as steep as the Grapevine itself. Still, this was a long haul.

They had come upon some scattered ruins of her age. An old, rusted car. An old sign post. An empty Coke can. Nothing useful.

So she wasn’t too hopeful when they found the hollowed out remains of what looked like an old gas station. They quickly walked through the place. There was a bank of coolers with its glass shattered. Again nothing useful until they went into the garage portion of the station.

There were two mountain bikes. Not exactly in the best shape and the tires were covered in spider webs, but you know what? Sal would take it.

She grabbed one and rolled it. The tires were flat, but she found a pump not far away. Sal hooked it up and pumped away. “Go on, get yours.”

Tyr backed away in disgust. “What is this thing? It seems something a jester might ride.”

He wasn’t far off. Bicycles were a standard clown tool.

“These will allow us to get there three times faster,” Sal stated.

Tyr cocked his head, not seeming to believe her.

“Come on, don’t be such a sissy,” she said grabbing his bike and pumping up the tires.

Tyr frowned at her statement but took a step closer.

“You balance on it, like this,” Sal said, getting the bike under her. “Then you peddle to gain speed.”

Again with the frown.

“Trust me, its intent is to go fast,” Sal stated.

Okay, that Tyr seemed to understand.

“It is best if you get one, then roll forward to pick up some speed, then mount it like you would a horse.”

“This is nothing like a horse,” Tyr grumbled, however he did as she did, pulling out ahead of her.

So she got a pretty good view of his completely beginner attempt to ride a bike. If only she had a video camera with her.

CHAPTER 14

Alex held the baby as Haviana and Dyn worked on some potion or aruther. The older DeadBlood had tried to explain it, however this was some top shelf, graduate degree blood magic. Alex didn’t have the slightest clue what they were doing.

Rocking the baby, Alex looked down at the infant. Even after seeing all that the baby had done, it was nearly impossible to see it in the innocent eyes of the baby girl. She had done nothing wrong.

Vitalis had.

The bastard.

“Oh Dyn!” a voice sounded from behind them. Alex already knew it was the Queen. “I have been attending the King, he is very, very ill.”

“Give me a few more moments and I shall have an elixir.”

The Queen, very unceremoniously plopped down in a chair, her feet flying up as her skirt bloomed. She leaned back, laying her head on the back of the chair.

“Once it struck, I knew what it was, but had no way to challenge it.”

“Perhaps you should be trained to your calling?” Dyn stated. While said in an even tone, Alex didn’t miss the rebuke in the words. A Deadblood in hiding, apparently wasn’t a very useful DeadBlood.

“Yes, well after all of this perhaps I shall,” the Queen stated, lifting herself up with a groan. “Bring it to me when you are done. I do not like to leave him alone with Alyssa long. She is too young to witness such suffering.”

“Alyssa?” Alex asked. “She is okay?”

A strange look passed over both The Queen and Haviana’s face. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, child,” The Queen said. “Just more to explain at some point. Bring the potion when it is ready.”

And with that she left the room.

“Why isn’t Alyssa sick?” Alex asked Haviana, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Doesn’t this mean she’s DeadBlood?”

No one answered him.

* * *

Tyr found the contraption beneath him to be some kind of curse from the Gilded Age meant solely for him. Salista kept saying that once he got the “hang” of it he would enjoy the ride, but so far that had not come true.

Again, his ancestors with their need to try to go faster than they or their beast could take them. He would have abandoned the blasted thing if they weren’t truly traveling at a greater speed than their walking.

His hands sweated on the handlebars, making them slippery.

So far the birds had stayed at bay, but he knew shortly that there would be another line of defenses. In what form he was not sure, but he knew it would not be easy. The closer they came to the mineshaft, the more defenses Vitalis would put up.

For now the landscape was clear. This area was not lush like his home realm. There were no trees. Very little grass and what there was of it was burnt to a golden brown. The dirt was more like sand, shifting under his tire, making it a challenge to stay up and on the contraption.

The hills were just as brown and barren. Dyn and he had traveled through this region once, long ago. It had been winter then so the grass was greener and these dry washes had been brimming with water. Quite a different sight than now.

He glanced back at Salista. She had that determined look on her face that he loved. Her eyes were glued forward, her jaw clenched, focused solely on riding the bicycle as fast as she could.

Her eyes flickered to his and her features softened into a smile. He was glad she had not been born to the rigors of his age. She had an optimism that was hard to find outside of Dyn.

Salista pulled up next to him. “Easier, right?”

Easier perhaps, but not necessarily better.

He grunted. That should tell her exactly how he felt.

They crested a hill and were able to coast down the “road.” In the distance was the side of a mountain with large circular opening. The mine. It looked clear which made Tyr all the more concerned.

“Where are the guards?” Sal asked.

Good question.

One that he did not have an answer to.

* * *

“Well?” Alex asked after the two DeadBlood had ignored him and gone about making their potion.

Dyn ignored him and handed him a small vial. “It isn’t much so do not waste it. Put a drop in each eye as you whisper, ‘heal.’ You will not see an immediate response but within the hour the King should rouse.”

That was not at all an answer, but Alex supposed he would get no other explanation and the King was kind of dying so he didn’t push it.

Alex accepted the vial and rushed out of the room. Who better to ask than Alyssa herself?

The King and Queen’s bedroom wasn’t far. He burst into the room to find the Queen laying over her dying husband’s body. The bedroom was luxury incarnate, like a sweeps week episode of the rich and famous only without all the despair.

“Do you have it?” the Queen asked.

Alex nodded, hurrying to the side of the bed. “Help me by opening his eyes.”

The Queen did as asked. Alex put one drop in the left eye and whispered, “Heal.” He repeated it with the other eye.

“You can close them now,” Alex informed the Queen.

Alyssa burst into the room. “Mother is worsening.”

The girl though looked hale and hearty.

“Show me,” Alex said following Alyssa through a small doorway.

This room was not nearly as luxurious as the royal bed chamber, but it wasn’t anything to sneeze at either. Thick tapestries coated the walls and there was a huge bearskin rug before the fire.

The lady-in-waiting was laid out on the bed, her color pale. He had to reach out and touch her to feel her chest rise and fall. She was worse than the King, but Alex had seen her attending to the baby when they first arrived, she was probably one of the first infected.

“Open her eyes,” Alex stated.

Alyssa looked askance, but did as instructed. There wasn’t much left in the vial, but he thought he’d gotten a whole drop in each eye.

“Now what?” Alyssa asked.

“We wait. Dyn said it could take up to an hour to see any improvement.”

Alyssa took her mother’s hand and squeezed it.

Alex stepped back to give the mother and daughter some room, but quickly his curiosity got the better of him. “I don’t mean to pry but how are you a DeadBlood?”

“I’m not,” the girl said with a frown.

“Um, I don’t mean to be indelicate, but yes you are,” Alex said. “Otherwise you’d be as sick as your mother.”

The girl’s face clouded over. “You must be mistaken.”

Alex was about to answer when the Queen entered the room. Even under these circumstances Alyssa curtsied.

“He is not,” the Queen said sitting next to her lady-in-waiting’s bed. “You are DeadBlood.”

“But how?” Alyssa asked her arms wrapping around her waist. “Mother never… she never…

The Queen patted Alyssa’s hand. “Your mother has been such a loyal servant. Such a loving woman….”

Alex took another step back as Dyn and Haviana entered with the baby in her arms.

“Mother you don’t have to explain. I can,” Haviana stated but the Queen shook her head.

“No, I am the one that put this sequence of events in motion. I must now stand and do the explaining.”

Alex had no idea what was going on, but he could tell by her tone it was going to be juicy. So much nicer listening to other people’s drama than his own. He settled into a small chair in the back.

Dyn knelt down, toying with his vials some more. Weird. It seemed like he already knew what the Queen was going to say and didn’t have to really listen.

Oh, but Alex was all ears.

* * *

Sal crouched next to Tyr. They had left the bikes behind, apparently not a moment too soon for Tyr and climbed up the highest hill to try and get a better vantage point to recon the mine.

Everything seemed as calm and boring as before. Like Vitalis had left the mine unguarded. Right.

Then a herd of antelope, the kind that the valley was originally named for came galloping from the east. Apparently after the Harrowing the antelope reclaimed their ancient lands. There were at least two dozen of the prong-horned antelope, running free across the desert.

Suddenly a form charged out of the mine entrance. It looked to be a mammoth badger? From so far away it was hard to tell, but the creature, clearly a beast, lashed out with his claw and snagged one of the antelope. What followed was horrifying, but at the least it was quick. As suddenly as it had appeared, the badger-beast crawled back into the mineshaft.

Well, at least now they knew what Vitalis had up his sleeve.

“He has assigned the burrowing beasts to the mine,” Tyr said like that was an everyday occurrence. “I will be hard-pressed to be able to take them alone.”

“Maybe you don’t have to” Salista said, pointing in the distance. At regular intervals in the desert were glints of metal. The old air shafts that fed the mine. “We can go down the deepest one and maybe get in behind them.”

“You are quite the witch, you know,” Tyr said.

Sal took that as the compliment it was.

* * *

The Queen had started and stopped her explanation a few times and now sat on the bed next to her lady-in-waiting, looking off into the distance, seeming lost to them.

“My lady?” Alyssa queried, her tone uncertain.

“Yes, sorry… there is so much to tell, I know not where to begin.”

“Perhaps with the love of you and your husband, the King?” Dyn stated. Apparently the guy could concoct a healing potion and listen as well.

“Yes, yes,” the Queen said. “I wish Tyr were here, he needs to hear this.”

“In time, my lady,” Dyn said. “But for now the youths are quite eager to hear your story.”

The Queen licked her lips. “Yes. Well, after Tyr was born and discovered he was a DeadBlood, the decree came down. The King and I were never to have a union again, but we could not abide such a waste of our love. We were careful, so careful, but still I begat with child.”

Alyssa sucked in a harsh breath. She was listening as if her life depended upon it. “But that goes against all of our laws.”

“Yes, yes it does,” The Queen said. “And I had already violated so many by hiding my DeadBlood roots, but what was I to do? It wasn’t the poor babe’s fault.”

Alex watched Alyssa. He had some idea where this story was going, but Alyssa apparently did not. She seemed completely unaware that her world was about to get rocked to the core.

“And?” Alyssa asked.

“And we decided to bring the child to term, only no one could know so I left for a spiritual retreat at an old nunnery our family had supported for generations and I grew the baby in my belly.”

Alex looked to Dyn. His frown deepened. Alyssa’s face still sparkled with wonder and curiosity. Alex rose to be closer to her. Soon that joy would be shattered.

“At the same time your mother stuffed her clothes to make it seem as if she were the one with child while I layered upon cloaks to hide my belly. We trusted the nuns not to pry too closely, but could take no chances.”

Alyssa looked from face to face. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

The Queen took the chambermaid’s hand. “Your mother was never pregnant. I was the one that brought you to term.”

Alyssa jerked her hand away from the Queen. “You lie,” she hissed.

Alex was glad he moved over as Alyssa’s knees buckled. He caught her before she could fall. Somewhere deep inside she knew that it was not a lie.

“I…We prepared the same serum I used on Haviana just in case. Your mother was the only one in attendance at your birth. We moved the bloody sheet to your mother’s bed for when the DeadBlood came to check you.”

Alyssa didn’t seem to be hearing too well though. The girl was still in his arms, leaning heavily against him to stay up. Her head swung back and forth slowly like her neck was trying to keep the information out.

“No. My mother said my father was a knight killed battling a beast.”

“Your mother did love a knight such as that, but he is not your biological father. The King is.”

“No!” Alyssa barked. The force of her words, shoving the Queen back.

The woman was not upset though. If anything it brought a grin to her lips. “See? That is the DeadBlood in you. That is me in you.”

Alyssa nearly collapsed in Alex’s arms. He struggled under her weight to keep them both standing.

She reached out a hand and grabbed the lady-in-waiting’s arm. “This. This is my mother.”

The Queen nodded. “And that will never change. She loves you beyond all measure. She has raised you, but it was time to know whose womb you came from.”

“Take deep breaths,” Alex encouraged. He knew a thing or two about sudden, bizarre, life-altering news. He’d gotten his in Salista’s apartment and there had been no one to hold him up.

Alyssa’s eyes filled with tears then they brimmed over, running down her cheeks.

“If it were not for Mother, I would run from here and never return.”

* * *

Tyr followed behind Salista as they snuck through the desert, striking for one of the shafts that the witch had described. Far better than trying to go up against how many beasts at the entrance.

Their plan was simple. Get into the tunnel just before it terminated then lay in wait for Vitalis to show up with the bone, take it from him, then somehow make it out of the mineshaft alive.

Salista stopped in front of him. She pointed down. There was a metal grate over a hole. The slats were crusted with sand and salt.

He put his fingers through the openings and tugged. It was seated in there pretty well and this was metal so its intent was not to move.

This was going to require some blood. Normally that would have given him pause, but with their stash of artificial bloods, he was not as worried as he once would have been.

Was that a mistake? Should he rely on such a thing? Right now, he had no other choice. They had to throw all of the resources they had at Vitalis or there would be no one to use said resources once his brother picked their bones clean.

So with no further hesitation, Tyr took out two vials and smashed them against the grate, then grabbed hold and yanked with all his might.

The metal groaned and creaked loudly enough that Salista grimaced, but with metal there was no other way. Finally the metal gave in and Tyr was able to pull the grate out.

He peered down the shaft. His eyes could not follow it to its end.

“Here,” Salista said handing him what she termed was a “flashlight.” Which was odd since it did not flash. He shook his head. The Gilded Age, his arse.

She turned it on and peered down the shaft. At the bottom was a large pile of sand. That which had been dumped down there for centuries. It appeared though that there was still room to fit into the tunnel that led east.

It was a good sign that no badger or wolverine came snapping at them. Perhaps Salista was right. Perhaps this entrance was far enough away that it was past the primary defenses.

“Ladies first?” Tyr asked but Salista smiled, shaking her head.

“Dude, this is all you.”

Tyr smiled back.

Now this, this was going to be interesting.

* * *

There was a whole lot of pouting going on in the room and for once Alex wasn’t at the epicenter of it. What a concept.

Alyssa had gained her feet and managed to get herself over to a chair next to her adopted mother.

The Queen was seated on the opposite side of the bed. She had gone in several times to check on her husband but so far there was no change.

The baby stirred in Haviana’s arm. Even though the babe was LiveBlood, it had been immune to the virus it carried. “Shhh.” She cooed to the baby.

Then she looked up. “You know what? No. We are not going to walk on eggshells.” Haviana took in a deep breath. “Seriously you people are acting more like babies than this little one.”

The Queen and Alyssa looked up at the Princess.

“Mother did the best she could under the circumstances,” Haviana explained. “She was protecting everyone at her expense.”

Alyssa snorted. “I think not.”

“Oh please, you are new to the pity party,” Haviana shot back. “I’ve known I was Deadblood since I was five. I’ve known since I was five that I would never know love. Never marry. Never have children. You have lived a full life, with all your hopes and dreams intact.”

“Do not speak to me so,” Alyssa stated, rising from her chair.

“You have been spared so much,” Haviana continued. “So much. You act the princess, Alyssa. Precious and perfect and unwilling to accept change.”

Alyssa’s cheeks puffed in and out as her hands balled up into fists. Alex was slightly worried that he would have to intervene between the two.

Dyn however stayed on the floor, tinkering with his potions. He gave a slow shake of the head as if to warn Alex to stay out of the way of the two.

“Haviana, please,” The Queen begged.

“No, mother. She is an ungrateful, spoiled girl who thinks somehow her suffering is greater than all of ours combined.”

Alyssa’s eyes dilated as her head snapped around to face Haviana. “My life is a lie.”

“Better than a Greek tragedy,” Haviana shot back.

Yah, Alex was staying out of this argument.

CHAPTER 15

Sal was not going to lie. She was perfectly happy to be going down the shaft after Tyr. Since they didn’t have any rope, they had to go down the hard way. Bracing themselves with their feet, they slowly lowered themselves down the shaft.

It was slow and painful. Her leg had started shaking about ten minutes ago and gave no signs they were going to stop.

Tyr seemed to be holding up better, but didn’t he always?

The wind had kicked up and was whipping overhead. It whistled so loudly that Sal wished she had earmuffs. Tyr hadn’t wanted to use the flashlight any more since it might attract attention.

So all she had was the wind and her aching muscles to keep her company on the journey down.

Suddenly Tyr stopped propping himself up and plummeted down.

“No!” Sal cried, throwing her hand out, but he was gone. Then she heard a splat into the sand. He had done it on purpose, probably tired of the long slow climb down.

“Let go,” his whisper came from the dark. She couldn’t see him or the sand pile.

Her thighs voted yes, but they weren’t exactly reliable.

“Trust me,” Tyr asked a lot of her.

With a sigh, Sal tucked her legs under her. After a long scrape, she started to fall as well. She had to believe in Tyr. He would never ask her to do something reckless. Um, wait a minute, yes he would.

Oh well, too late.

Then Tyr was there, he caught her in his arms, but the sand under his feet was unstable so they slid down the bank. She clung to Tyr until they finally came to a stop at the base of the large sand pile.

When she looked up, Tyr smiled. He never had to say “I told you so.” His expression did it for him.

She leaned up to give him a kiss.

That’s about when she heard the rattling.

* * *

Alex dug in for the long haul. The argument between the two women only worsened, rather than lessened. The Queen had tried to intervene several times, but that only made it worse.

He had a nearly overwhelming urge to shout “cat fight!” Luckily he had not yet.

Dyn simply kept concocting his potion, staying silent as the women raged. And Alex had thought his and Salista’s arguments were epic. Nope. This was a whole new level of sibling rivalry.

“Please,” a voice croaked.

It took a moment for Alex to realize where the voice had come from. It had come from the bed. The lady-in-waiting was licking her lips.

“Mother!” Alyssa cried out, grabbing a glass of water from the table and holding it for the older woman to drink from.

Her mother grabbed Alyssa’s arm. “No more argument. The Queen took great, great risk to birth you, I will not have you hold her in contempt.”

Alyssa looked down, not arguing.

Haviana on the other hand looked like she’d eaten a canary.

The lady-in-waiting glanced over. “And you. You are a princess, DeadBlood or not and shall act as such in public or private.”

It was Haviana’s turn to look down at her feet. “Yes, ma’am.”

The older woman sighed, laying her head back onto her pillow. The Queen squeezed her lady-in-waiting’s hand. “I must check on the King.”

“Of course, go.”

The Queen disappeared through the door, Dyn stood up.

“I have enough for a significant amount of the ill,” Dyn stated. “I must stay here to create more, but the four of you must go out and administer the inoculation.”

“Four?” Alyssa queried.

“For good or bad, you are DeadBlood now Alyssa and must act as such.”

The girl crossed her arms but her mother reached out. “Alyssa you have always been a bright and giving child. Do not let this news change you.”

At her mother’s touch, Alyssa softened, lowering her arms.

“Tell me what to do.”

* * *

Tyr held up his sword as his eyes adjusted to the dark. Ahead was a large figure. A snake-beast. Most of the body was coiled up. A large, child-sized rattle shook above the beast’s head.

The snake-beast was unusual for a number of reasons. For one the face was nearly human. Usually the face was modified the most upon descent. Yet, this man’s face was nearly all-human. Which made the fangs and the forked tongue flickering in and out of his mouth all the more foreboding.

The other was that the man was blind. His eyes were white orbs. He swayed from side, his tongue flickering rapidly, apparently trying to assess the threat.

Tyr knew that tongue was as sensitive to smell as any eyes were to light. Soon, the snake-beast would hone in on their location and then the fight would begin.

Sal clung to his jacket, pressing her body up against his. If only it were under different circumstances.

The snake’s body tensed then relaxed in synchrony with its tongue. The snake-beast’s head turned in their direction, testing the air for their scent. And after that prolonged ride on the two wheeled contraption, Tyr was certain that they were quite ripe.

The rattle increased, filling the room with its threat. From down the tunnel Tyr witnessed more snakes, real snakes slithering toward them. They were this beast’s thralls.

They would be here momentarily, supporting their beast doing as he commanded just as those crows had done at the plane.

Of course Vitalis had guarded his inner sanctum and Tyr wasn’t quite sure how he was going to get past this line of defense.

Maybe he should have taken his chances with the badger.

* * *

Sal had never felt so scared in her life. Not even when Vitalis was licking her in the museum. Snakes had always been frightening to her. She’d never actually been around one of course. Not growing up in the Mission district. Perhaps that was why. They were so foreign to her.

While Alex had loved to go into the reptile house at the zoo, Sal had gravitated to the aviary. Birds were so much more pleasant than snakes. She’d never understood her younger brother’s fascination.

Her body felt like Jell-O. If she wasn’t leaning against Tyr, she feared she would end up as a puddle on the floor. She’d nearly peed her pants. Like, really, she was holding her thighs together to keep her bladder under control.

This could not be happening.

Since meeting Tyr, Sal had imagined the many different ways she might die, but by snake-beast, never. As a matter of fact, if she’d known there could be snake-beasts, Sal seriously doubted that she would have ever joined Tyr. There was love and then there were snake-beasts.

Sal gulped, trying to keep her body from shaking so violently that the beast would sense her with the wicked flickering tongue.

Gross.

Who would want to descend into a snake? A giant blind one? Who? What was so bad in your life that you wanted to be a giant, blind descended snake-beast? That had to be one messed up family life.

And of course Vitalis had found the guy and recruited him. Because knocking California off into the ocean was what every blind snake-beast wanted to do. How had Vitalis convinced so many of these beasts to assist him? What was in it for them?

And it was bad enough to have one giant one, but now other snakes were arriving, slithering over their beast, aiming at Tyr and her.

She had to remind herself to breathe. She had to be ready to follow Tyr’s lead, because he had a plan. Right?

He had to have a plan.

* * *

Alex held the eyes of an archer open as Alyssa, with a shaking hand put a drop into his eye.

“It’s going to be okay.”

Alyssa frowned but did not reply.

They moved onto the next archer. Dyn had instructed them to pass by the castle staff. They had to get their defenses up first and foremost. Vitalis could attack at any moment. They had to risk the staff to save the defenders.

It had been hard to bypass all those downed men and women, but as always, Dyn was correct. Those staff would be slaughtered if the beasts got into the castle. Better to give them some hope of survival, even as they risked their lives.

“Heal,” Alyssa said with a hitch in her voice.

“You’ve got to believe,” Alex explained.

Somehow it had fallen to him to train Alyssa. Like he’d been a DeadBlood for all of fourteen minutes.

“It is your belief. Your intent that carries the energy into the body.”

Alyssa bit her lip. “You all must be wrong. I don’t feel like a DeadBlood.”

“I know,” Alex said. “I didn’t know either until Tyr told me.”

“You mean you were not trained as a DeadBlood?” Alyssa asked as they moved onto another guard on the rampart.

Alex shook his head. “No. In my age, we didn’t even know about Live or DeadBloods.”

Alyssa lowered her head. “I just… you have always seemed to be, to be a full DeadBlood.”

Alex felt his cheeks blush. “Thanks, but nope. I’m pretty new to this so if I can do it, so can you.”

Alyssa nodded, although not with a lot of conviction, as she kneeled by the next victim.

Alex put his hand on hers. “Intent is all around us. And it works best if we are using our blood magic in the way that the object was meant to work. This is a healing serum, it wants to heal so we just need to give it a boost.”

Looking slightly more confident, Alyssa nodded. “Because my blood is clear of intent, I can manipulate it without being damaged by it?”

Alex grinned. She was as quick learner. He’d thought he should be the one to place the drops, but as always, Dyn had known better. This was an excellent way to introduce Alyssa to her power, before they faced battle which might be at any moment.

“That is right. We can massage intent to our needs,” Alex explained. “You never want to try and force it. You must work with the object to achieve your goals or it won’t work.”

Finally Alex was starting to get it as well. He’d been trying too hard. He could see that now. Score another one for Dyn. By having to teach it, Alex was learning blood magic all the better.

Alyssa closed her eyes as Alex opened the soldier’s eyelids. He could sense her gathering intent.

She leaned over the soldier, cracking her eyes open and placing the drop.

“Heal,” the word sounded as if an angel had spoken it.

The serum spread rapidly across the eye, seeping into the tissues then disappearing, yet already the redness around the eyelids was retreated. Faster than when even Dyn had done it.

“You are a natural,” Alex commented.

“Mother always said my life was wasted being a chamber maid. I should be a healer. ” Alyssa chuckled. “But I didn’t want to be called a witch. How things have changed, eh?”

Yes, things had changed. Everything had changed. And with Alyssa, for once for the better.

* * *

Tyr tensed for the attack that was sure to come at any moment.

The snake had honed in on them, bobbing its head right at them.

He’d gone through his inventory of bloods. There was nothing really specific to snakes. He might be able to use sedentary blood to slow them down, but that was simply delaying the inevitable.

No, he needed something specific and powerful.

Yet he had no such blood.

“Tyr?” the snake-beast hissed.

Tyr tensed. How could the beast know his name?

There was no real point in not answering though. “Yes.”

“So, I will finally have my revenge,” the beast uttered.

Revenge? What had Tyr ever done to this beast?

Then he recognized the face. It was not the beast he had wronged, but the man before he descended.

The duke. The father of Laini. The father of the daughter Tyr had doomed in his reckless behavior.

“Who is he?” Salista whispered.

“Lainli’s father.”

“Oh,” Salista sighed.

If one wanted to know what was worse than a snake-beast. It was a snake beast who had descended because you killed his daughter.

“Duke,” Tyr stated, trying to forge a path of respect while feeling repulsed. “How did you find yourself here?”

The snake chuckled, another disconcerting sight and sound. “You know how.”

Salista squeezed Tyr’s hand.

“How is this honoring Lainli’s memory?”

The snake hissed, thrashing its tail. “Do not speak her name. You can never use her name.”

Tyr bowed his head as if the snake-beast was still a Duke. “The question still stands.”

How Tyr wished that Dyn was present. The old DeadBlood always had such a honeyed tongue. He could have brought the Duke around.

But he did not have his thane. He would have to navigate these dangerous waters all by himself.

“Duke, do you realize what Vitalis is doing? He is going to destroy entire realms.”

“As long as it destroys the realm that birthed you, then I am game.”

* * *

Sal took a step away from Tyr. If felt like she was letting go of her sanity, but she had to do it.

She was still absolutely, positively freaked out by the snake-beast and his slithering minions, but her indignation was stronger.

Thank goodness she had such holier-than-thou inclinations. It might just save them today.

Stepping around Tyr, she stood right in front of the beast that used to be a duke.

“Do not blame, Tyr,” she said.

The snake’s head snapped around as his tongue flickered in and out.

“Do I know you?”

“No, but I certainly know of you. It was your bigotry and fear that killed Lainli, not Tyr.”

The snake pulled back, looking ready to strike, but Sal didn’t stop.

“Look at you. Look at what your hate has done to you,” Sal pressed. “Yes, Tyr fell in love with Lainli, but Lainli fell in love with him as well. Their union was mutual. A thing of beauty really.”

“Never,” the snake hissed. He seemed to be losing his words. Which might not be such a great thing, but she had to push on. “They made a baby. So what? Embarrassing maybe, but look at how you handled it?”

The beast-snake’s rattle shook violently, but not until his fangs were sunk into her flesh was Sal going to stop.

“You are the one that ordered the abortion. You are the one, so mad at DeadBloods that you wouldn’t allow Dyn to do the procedure. You are the one that called in the old witch who failed and let your daughter bleed to death.”

The Duke’s head waved side to side almost like he was in a trance.

“Lainli,” he said, sounding almost human.

“Lainli would never want this. From everything I’ve heard she was a sweet, loving girl who only wanted to expand her knowledge. She wanted to live a life of service.”

The rattling toned down a little, but the thrall snakes were now milling, hissing, striking at each other now that they were not apparently completely under the beast’s control.

“Vitalis has twisted your grief,” Sal stated taking a step forward. As much as it repulsed her, she reached out a put palm on the beast’s scales. “Tyr might have broken the law, but you put into motion your daughter’s death. You’ve got to take your part of the responsibility for her passing.”

The snake-beast reared up, looking for all the world ready to strike. Perhaps she had pushed too far.

Tyr grabbed her from behind, jerking her out of the way as the snake’s mouth opened, his fangs flaring, aiming right for where Sal had stood. However she didn’t think he was aiming for her.

Instead the duke sank his fangs into his own flesh. He pumped venom into his body. Sal had heard that snakes weren’t immune to their own venom. They were going to see if that was true.

Finally, with his venom sacs apparently empty, the beast’s head lolled to the side as his body quivered, then convulsed.

Sal turned away from the sight, finding refuge in Tyr’s arms.

* * *

Tyr held Salista tightly as the beast’s body contorted. One moment it was tightening into a coil, the next moment it was expanding, going straight as a rod.

The thrall snakes were in a state. Panicked they slithered over one another, racing to get away from the beast that had poisoned himself. It was as if they feared they would be next.

Thankfully they sped down the opposite end of the tunnel. Only a few, in a state of hysteria went past Tyr and Sal. Also thankfully they were more interested in getting away from the scene than they were in biting them.

Finally in one last violent contraction, the duke’s body collapsed down, motionless. Lifeless.

Tyr could not help but feel at the least partially responsible for this death. So long ago it had been his indiscretion that had doomed the duke’s family.

“It’s not your fault.” Salista said, taking his hand. “It never was. The duke just proved that.”

But did he? Tyr thought that the duke’s guilt had finally caught up with him, but that didn’t mean that Tyr was without his own guilt.

“Come on,” Salista said. “We have work to do.”

She was correct, but Tyr still found it hard to move his feet. A sadness he had not felt for such a long time weighed down his body. Lainli. So pure. So sweet. He looked to Salista. Would he doom her as he had the young girl?

“Tyr, don’t even give me that look,” she said. “I’m a grown woman. I make my own decisions. You should know because they usually piss you off.”

A laugh burst from his lips, unbidden. But he couldn’t help it. Salista was right.

He couldn’t control her if he wanted to.

Leaving behind the duke and his painful past, Tyr followed Salista down the tunnel. The snakes had cleared out of the area so the going was pretty quick. They made their way to the dead end.

This should be the deepest the shaft went. Exactly where Vitalis would want to plant the bone.

From here any explosion would be propagated down the main San Andreas fault, then down all the subsidiaries, creating a quake of the ages, splitting off the realm of California into the sea.

To think…

That was the one thing that Tyr could not think about though. He had to stay focused on the task as hand.

Salista found a smaller tunnel that shot off to the side to hide in. Although with the dead snake-beast, Vitalis was probably going to know they were here.

He settled in with Salista, holding her in his arms. If there was any salve for the grievous wound opened by the duke, it was this.

“Did you hear that?” Sal asked.

Unfortunately he did. It was like a great rumbling. Dirt jangled at the persistent sound until the side of the tunnel collapsed. A giant mole poking his head out, crinkling his nose, moving his whiskers.

“Yah, I don’t think we’re going to be able to talk our way out of this one,” Salista commented.

So right she was.

CHAPTER 16

They had made their way all the way around the rampart. So much so that some of the earlier treated soldiers were already rousing.

“It is working,” Alyssa said, her voice filled with wonder.

That would be the “magic” part of blood magic. Even though it wasn’t magic at all. It was super-advanced science, but Alex could remember the first time he’d seen Salista perform a miracle on Tyr’s wrecked body.

Magic it was.

“We should start on the others,” Alex said indicating they should go down to the courtyard where there were dozens upon dozens of other ill.

“Why would he do this?” Alyssa asked, staring down at the courtyard.

“You’ve got to ask him, because I have no freaking idea.”

Tears shone in her eyes. “I am not sure I like this world of DeadBloods.”

Tell him about it.

“We are the protectors,” Alex explained as it had been explained to him. “Who else can battle the beasts except for us?”

“And what if I do not wish to battle anything? Let alone beasts?”

Alex was about to answer when an eagle-beast came out of nowhere, its talons extended in front of him aiming straight for Alyssa.

What little training Alex had kicked in and he shoved her to the side, drawing his sword in the same motion.

“Fall!” he shouted, slashing his blade. He made no physical contact, but his edict was enough to send the bird tumbling from the sky. The beast recovered before crashing on the courtyard stone, but at the least it was shaken, flying off in the other direction.

He offered a hand to Alyssa. “You had better decide if you are going to fight or if you are going to die.”

Alex thought that Dyn would have been proud of that statement. It sounded super DeadBlood.

Alyssa took his hand. “I guess fight.”

That was his girl. Alex turned to the soldiers and archers who were staggering to get up. “Man your stations,” Alex shouted. “We are under attack!”

Now that he knew what to look for, Alex could see there were half a dozen other bird-beasts in the sky. Plus ape-beasts trying to climb the wall and a rhino-beast trying to batter the gate in.

Yah, they were under attack.

* * *

Sal watched as Tyr positioned himself by the mole-beast. While the snake-beast had terrified her, this mole creature with tiny eyes and a sniffing nose seemed kind of pathetic.

You really were going to risk your soul by manipulating intent and descending and you ended up a mole? That must have come as a crushing blow. So much for the high life of a beast.

For being as squirrely as it was, it was also a little slow on the uptake. Tyr pressed his back against the wall before he swung his sword down. Sal put her arms up to block the arterial spray. The mole’s head clunked to the floor and rolled to her feet.

She pushed it away with her toe.

Tyr placed his ear against the wall. “There are more coming.”

Sal braced herself. Never had she wished to see Vitalis. At least if he were here, they would be fighting the real fight. Not these guard-beasts.

“I need you to come over here and tap on the wall,” Tyr said pointing to the area he meant.

“Why?” Sal asked.

“This is the best kill zone,” Tyr answered.

Of course it was. She knew that moles were sensitive to vibrations. Not that in the Mission District she’d seen a lot of moles, but, you know, she read journals.

She picked up a long-abandoned shovel and banged it against the wall. The sound reverberated in their small tunnel. This had better bring the moles quickly or she was going to go deaf.

Soon she could feel the rattle of moles burrowing their way to them.

Tyr stood back on the other side of the tunnel, thumbing through his blood vials. He indicated that she should step back. “I think they got the message.”

“Stay behind me and cover your eyes.”

Sal was not going to argue over either of those orders.

She tucked herself behind Tyr. Sal noted that he did not have his sword drawn. He was going to take care of the mole scourge with blood magic. Fine by her. Less blood in the face that way.

The walls rattled as the moles dug their way to them.

Sal grabbed Tyr’s coat. Granted they were only moles, but the sound they were making was pretty intimidating. And the dead mole’s head had quite a set of incisors on it. They could easily take off a hand or foot.

Then they burst through the wall. Five of them. One mole-beast was stupid enough but six whole people had descended into moles? How sad.

Tyr smashed one, then two, then a third vial onto the floor. It must be a complicated spell to use that much blood.

“Light!” he yelled as he flung his arms open.

Sal didn’t close her eyes quite in time as the blood exploded into a bright, pure white light.

The moles screamed, threatening to shatter her eardrums as they backed away into the tunnels, leaving Tyr and Sal unmolested.

“Will they come back?” she asked.

“I certainly hope not. Those were the last of those bloods.”

* * *

Alex was backed into a corner by an impala-beast. Which didn’t sound all that dangerous he supposed, but dang that thing could kick. He’d lost sight of Alyssa. Her first battle was luckily with a sloth-beast. Hopefully she could hold her own until Alex could get back to her.

Although he was in a stalemate with this stupid antelope. The thing slashed its sharp hooves at Alex. The problem was those legs were longer than his sword so the beast was constantly out of reach. And those hooves were faster than his sword arm. He was sure Tyr or Dyn could have dispatched the beast within seconds, but he wasn’t them.

Then he had an idea. What Tyr was always pounding into us. Use intent. Use it to your advantage.

What else did an impala want to do?

“Run!” Alex shouted.

Even though you could see in the impala-beast’s eyes that it didn’t want to, the impala’s body did what it was born to do. It ran. Right over the ledge of the rampart.

So much for that one.

Alex couldn’t rest on his laurels though. Alyssa was in trouble.

He raced in the direction she had retreated.

Stumbling to a halt, Alex couldn’t believe the scene in front of him. Not only had she taken care of the sloth, but a leopard-beast and mongoose-beast lay dead at her feet.

“I guess I choose fighting,” she said.

Um, yah.

* * *

Tyr crouched next to Salista. They had crammed themselves as far back into the tunnel as they could. Without her flashlight, they sat in the pitch black. Only the smell of the dead mole told them they were still in the world.

His senses strained to register something, anything. It made phantom sounds and flickers of light. Hollow, empty images. So far Vitalis had not shown.

Tyr began to worry they had chosen the wrong point. They had not been that far in front of Vitalis. Especially since they’d had to “bicycle” the last segment of their journey.

Each second that ticked down made Tyr apprehensive of their plan. But this had to be the correct tunnel. Would Vitalis sacrifice so many of his beasts to a distraction? Yes, Vitalis would sacrifice anyone for any reason, but Vitalis did not have unlimited resources.

This must be the place.

Yet with every breath that he pulled and his brother did not arrive, soured his stomach.

His entire world rested on the fact they were correct. Salista’s hand slid into his. “Patience.”

Tyr almost snorted. Coming from her? The Queen of impatience?

But she was right. He needed to calm his nerves and sit and wait and be happy that he drew enough breath to do so.

Salista squeezed his hand. At first he did not know why, then he heard it. A scraping. It wasn’t coming from the walls. It was coming from further down the tunnel. Soon the dark let up to murk that let up to a wan light.

Someone was coming.

Tyr’s muscles tensed.

This was the moment he had longed for.

The final battle between two brothers that shared nothing but the same parentage.

* * *

Salista knelt perfectly still as the light approached them. A tiger-beast was the first to come into view. It wasn’t just a tiger-beast but a Siberian tiger-beast. It was huge. The beast was nearly fully descended. You could tell by the ears. Its ears were shaped like a tiger’s not a human’s.

Which meant it didn’t have a great intelligence. But strength? Strength-wise it was up to full power. That tiger could wipe both of them out in a matter of seconds. Tyr would put up a fight, but those claws were five inches long.

Behind it strode a bear-beast. And a wolf-beast. Vitalis had brought the big guns with him.

The guy wasn’t taking any chances apparently.

Was that a hippo? Who brought a hippo into a mineshaft?

Apparently Vitalis.

Then Tyr’s brother strode into the light. His great mane swaying side to side. Behind him were another dozen or so beasts. In his hand shone the white bone of his ancestor. And Tyr’s ancestor.

She knew that Vitalis would come with some muscle, but this was insane. The badger they had spotted at the entrance was in the back of the pack.

This was an army of beasts against Tyr’s one sword.

This wasn’t looking too good.

* * *

Alex still couldn’t move. The sight was too shocking.

“Don’t think I’m so pretty now, do you?” Alyssa asked as she stepped over the dead bodies.

“Are you kidding me?” Alex said. “If I wasn’t slightly afraid of you, I’d rush over there and kiss you on the lips!”

That got a slight grin from the girl. “I don’t know what came over me. I’ve had some training, but nothing like this.”

Again it appeared that Alyssa was a natural. Way better than Alex and he’d had at least some proper training.

“Be careful!” Alex yelled, ducking as a chicken-beast swooped in on them. The thing pecked but missed. Alyssa raised her sword, stabbing straight into the breastbone, then drew her blade along the centerline, flailing open the chicken like she was getting ready to cook it for dinner.

Again, Alex was speechless. He wasn’t sure if the older DeadBloods could have done a better job.

Seriously. Those were some wicked fighting skills.

“Why are you dallying?” Dyn asked as he leapt down from an archer’s spire.

“Sorry, just regrouping,” Alex said. “Where is our greatest need?”

“The western wall,” Dyn stated, wiping the black blood from his sword. “Few have recovered enough to fight.”

Alex nodded heading in that direction as Dyn turned his attention to the girl. “Do you wish to stay with me?”

Alyssa shook her head. “I am fine. I will go with Alex.”

His heart swelled at the notion. Maybe, just maybe Alyssa liked him, like really liked him, plus the fact that she could kick some serious ass.

The girl was a triple threat.

Smart, pretty and fierce.

* * *

Tyr stepped into the light. With all of those beasts, there was no way they weren’t going to catch Tyr and Salista’s scent.

“Brother,” Vitalis hissed through his feline teeth. “I am pleased to meet you.”

Tyr was sure he was.

“Convince me why this must be done,” Tyr demanded hoping that he could reach the human within the lion’s body.

The lion snorted, pawing at the ground. “The fact you live should be enough.”

As much as he had hoped, Tyr realized there was no true human inside that hide. It was a corrupted, dark soul. Which could not be reached with reason.

“Then your efforts have been in vain. I will not allow you to do this. I will kill us all before I allow you to use the bone.”

“And kill your woman?” Vitalis countered. “When you have done so much to draw her here. Trap her in our age?”

“She knows what must be done.” Or at least that is what Tyr hoped. Salista if nothing else was pragmatic. She would sacrifice herself to save an entire kingdom.

His brother tsked. “Always so willing to throw others down so that you might survive.”

Tyr knew exactly who Vitalis was referencing, Lainli. However after meeting her father and what his guilt had done to him Tyr was done with it. He loved her. He regretted much but no longer blamed himself solely for her demise.

“Let us get to this,” Tyr stated. Words were wasted here.

But Salista grabbed his wrist from behind, holding him back. Why? She knew what must be done.

“Why hasn’t he attacked yet? Salista whispered.

True. Why had his brother not just set his beasts upon them? If he hated Tyr so much, why bandy words with him. Wouldn’t he rather just have Tyr’s head as a trophy?

Then he noticed it. A twitch to Vitalis’ paw. His skin looked burned. All the beasts seemed ill. Was the bone making them sick?

Had Vitalis wagered on the bone, coming from a slaughtered ancestor, to want this? Tyr did not think so. Just because one suffered, did not mean you wished another to.

Tyr concentrated on the bone in Vitalis’ hand.

“Help me,” Tyr thought but did not voice. He did not think that he needed to. The bone seemed to hear him just fine.

* * *

Alex sidestepped a swat of a gorilla’s paw. He parried and came back around, slicing the hand that had been attacking him. The gorilla staggered back, clutching at its stump.

“Please,” the gorilla begged. Not the gorilla but the man within the gorilla.

If Alex did not help, the beast would be dead from blood loss within moments.

Alex knew that with the proper treatment the beasts could be turned back to human. Although in the middle of a battle he hadn’t really considered it as a possibility until now.

Alyssa came around the corner, her blade far above her head. Black blood soaking her dress.

“No!” Alex said, catching her wrists before she could swing her sword.

“What are you doing?” she growled, her pretty face twisted up into a grimace.

“He is begging for mercy,” Alex explained. It was the first beast who had.

“We don’t have time for this,” she spat. “Let us be done with him.”

Choosing to fight may not have been the right choice for Alyssa. Much of what he liked about her had faded as the warrior woman had come out. Her kindness. Her vulnerability were all but gone now.

He needed to save this gorilla, not for the beast but for her.

Alex gripped her wrist. “We can’t win, Alyssa.”

She shook her head violently. “We can.”

Alex indicated out over the castle. “There are too many of them and not enough of us,” he explained. “But if we can show the beasts there is another way, another choice, they may take it and we can win after all.”

Alyssa’s face clouded over. He could see the bloodlust leaching away from her features. The girl he knew seemed to return rather than the Amazonian huntress she had become.

“Let us get him to the dining hall, it is where Lionel stored his potions.”

Alex placed a tourniquet on the gorilla’s hand then helped him to his feet. The gorilla put his other soft hand to Alex’s face.

“Thank you.”

CHAPTER 17

Sal watched as the bone in Vitalis’ hand began radiating a piercing white light. It clashed with the beast’s red glow, battling for dominance in the narrow tunnel.

Everyone, including herself, had viewed the bone as an inert object that could be manipulated by Vitalis to any means. Clearly the bone had other ideas about that. Tyr’s look of concentration indicated that he was tapping into the bone’s intent.

The smell of burnt flesh filled the air as the bone singed his paw. Still Vitalis clung to the item, wincing, obviously not wishing to relent. He had a plan and hell or high water he was going through with it.

However the bone seemed to have other ideas. It rattled and spun in his grasp. The other beasts backed away from Vitalis as the light grew brighter and brighter.

It reminded Sal of when the memory of Maria saved the day back at Alcatraz. Clearly the dead had some serious intent. Her heart warmed at the memory of her best friend taken away too soon by the beast that stood before them.

The tunnel crackled with energy. Thin streaks of lightening struck the walls, the beasts, anything it could come in contact with, except Tyr and Sal. It spared them its punishment. But still the beast would not let go. He clung to the bone no matter how much torture it put him through.

A hum started in the back of her head and crept its way forward along her skull, seeming to insinuate itself in her cranium, like the bone had found another bone to sing to. The sound wasn’t necessarily painful, but it was disconcerting.

However to the beasts it seemed to be excruciating. It was weird to see a tiger hold its paws up to its ears. The other beasts had retreated half way down the tunnel.

Would they just run off? Could the bone give them that?

Vitalis snarled, hissing at the bone, but it would not stop its song.

Tyr put out his hand. “Come,” he asked. Not demanded. There was no edict, just a simple request.

The bone flew out of Vitalis’ hand and landed in Tyr’s palm.

Which was great except the bone stopped its light show and song.

Slowly the beasts, head down, ears back, came down the tunnel.

* * *

This gorilla was really getting heavy. Especially as it grew weaker and weaker as they made their way to the dining hall.

Finally they were allowed in by some guards who were still weak in the knees themselves. Entering, they found most of the fallen were now up and moving around. But most were servants or maids. They could not help in the fight raging outside.

Looks of panic filled the faces of the people they passed. No one seemed to believe Alex and Alyssa would bring a beast amongst them.

“It’s cool. It’s cool,” Alex murmured as they made their way to the far side. Alyssa helped him lower the gorilla into a chair, which seemed somewhat wrong to Alex. He had to keep reminding himself that the fully haired gorilla was actually a man under all that fur and flesh.

“I’ll go gather Lionel’s things,” Alyssa said before she ran off. It seemed that some of her speed was to get away from the beast. She still had bright red blood all over her hands.

“Thank you,” the gorilla repeated in a very deep and guttural tone.

Alex patted him on the back. “If we get you back, you’ve got to help us.”

“Most of us didn’t want to fight, but Vitalis is strong and cruel.”

Sounded a lot like the Germans after Hitler was defeated. Alex had never liked that history lesson much. What was the quote?

“All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”

Or beasts. They were going to have to add that on now.

Alyssa came back with a large briefcase. She thunked it down on the table. Alex popped the latches. Inside was a small batch of Lionel’s solution. A solution that could draw the intent out of a beast.

Even though he’d seen it work, he’d made it work, Alex still felt apprehensive. What if he couldn’t do it?

Alyssa squeezed his hand. “I trust you.”

Only because you don’t know me. Everyone in this realm seemed to think he was a hero or something. Little did they know that as of last week, he was the family screw up.

It, in the end, was the gorilla that got him going. “Heal me or kill me. Do nothing in between.”

Alex nodded, plunging his hand into the solution. He took the gorilla’s only good hand and placed it into the gel as well. Then he clasped the gorilla’s hand in his, thinking only of intent.

It was like swimming in a giant red swimming pool that was roiling with anger. Alex had to keep squeezing the gorilla’s hand to ground himself. All of this anger and pain and horror. And people did this to themselves.

Then Alex remembered what happened to his sister and Lionel. They were good people, yet with the best of intentions had become corrupted. And according to his sister it was like a drug, drawing you in deeper and deeper.

The thick solution turned redder and redder, but that wasn’t enough. Alex had to leach the intent from the solution to fully heal the gorilla. He could feel his heart skip beats and he took the corruption into himself. His breath came in ragged lurches as his muscles cramped.

All of this was nothing if he could heal this beast. This beast could turn the tide.

Then he heard a scream behind him. The beasts were in the dining hall.

Alex was almost done but would he live long enough to finish?

* * *

Tyr could feel the attack coming. They had the bone. That was a boon, but they still needed to get it out of here. The bone had put up a fight, but Tyr felt confident if given enough time that Vitalis could warp it to his will.

Tyr tucked the bone into his belt. “Get behind me,” he instructed Salista.

Licking their lips, the beasts joined Vitalis, then passed him, stalking forward, tensing, seeking retribution.

Tyr raised his sword, but against this many? He did not stand a chance. He could only hope to bring down as many as he could and perhaps give Salista enough time to flee.

He widened his stance, ready to strike at the first beast that screwed up enough courage to attack him.

Funny, none seemed to want to taste his blade first.

“Attack!” Vitalis shouted, apparently not trusting his beasts to do his bidding willingly for him. The edict was like a slap in the face to Tyr, but it clearly had a greater reaction as the tiger leapt, his claws splayed, going for a full body attack.

Tyr shifted his weight to his back leg, drawing his sword over his shoulder. There would be one moment when the tiger was vulnerable. One moment. He must strike quickly in a single blow or all was lost.

He waited. He could see the tiger’s individual whiskers. He could see the whites of his eyes. He could feel the heat of the tiger’s fetid breath, but still he waited.

Not until the tiger was so committed to the attack that he could not change course even if he wished, did Tyr take his swing. He sliced deeply across the tiger’s chest, cutting through flesh and cartilage, splitting the tiger’s breast bone. He could see the tiger’s lungs puff in and out.

Screaming, the tiger fell at Tyr’s feet, rolling in agony, but not for long. A few more attempted breaths and the tiger’s lungs collapsed and the beast lay still.

Tyr raised his sword again, hot black blood dripping from its tip.

“I am ready for another,” he said glaring at each of the remaining beasts in the eye. That defense would never work again, but it had instilled in the rest exactly what he needed. Fear. Caution. Reluctance. Those could get you killed faster than any attack.

* * *

Sal held her breath as the beasts held their ground but did not attack. Vitalis’ tail swished back and forth in frustration.

“Attack,” he said, but not with as much force. Even for as mature a beast as Vitalis, he did have his limits.

The bone had also weakened him, but enough?

Tyr took a step forward, challenging the bear head on.

“Do you not wish to play?” Tyr asked, that DeadBlood smirk on his face. How Sal wished he wouldn’t goad the beasts, but she knew that was a trademark DeadBlood move. Rile up your opponent so that they act hastily, sloppily.

The bear bellowed, opening his mouth wide, spitting out as he roared.

Tyr did not flinch. Sal, though, Sal nearly peed her pants.

The DeadBlood stayed put, forcing the bear to make the first move. It was not nearly as aggressive as the tiger had been. Looking at the body on the floor they could all tell how well that had worked.

Sal backed away, giving Tyr room to step back and the bear took a swipe with his paw. He missed by a mile.

But the bear was clearly just testing Tyr, checking his reaction times. The manner of his retreat.

Then out of the blood, Tyr leapt, taking everyone by surprise. He used the tiger’s body as a launching point. The bear tried to turn to avoid his blow, but was too slow.

Tyr drove his sword behind the bear’s shoulders, burying it down to the hilt.

The bear teetered right to left, then fell onto its side. Tyr put a foot on the bear’s side, trying to pull his sword out but it was lodged in there pretty deep.

The badger took advantage of the situation, rushing Tyr. With no weapon the only thing the DeadBlood could do was retreat, narrowly missed by a vicious slash.

The next attack was not going to fare as well.

“The bone!” Sal shouted.

Tyr whipped the thing from his belt just in time. Where the badger’s claws raked the surface of the bone, the thing grew white hot, shooting out light, singeing the badger’s fur.

Tyr stumbled back a step, trying to keep his balance.

Maybe they weren’t done yet.

Then she noticed another four beasts approaching. Along with the snakes and another dozen random animals. All thralls.

Maybe if it had only been the beasts. Or only the thralls, Tyr and the bone might have been able to save the day.

But both together and how many others waiting in the wings?

It was all over except for the crying.

* * *

Alex had to ignore the cries and clash of steel as he worked on the gorilla. He glanced up to find the gorilla had lost almost all of its facial hair. Alex could see the man beneath. Or more like a boy about his age. Just a teen drawn into this war of Vitalis’.

“Let go,” Alex whispered. The gorilla seemed to know what he meant. Alex could feel a definite surge of corruption leaving the boy. It hit Alex like a wave, nauseating him. The room spun on its axis. Maybe next time he would qualify how much to let go.

He looked over his shoulder to find Alyssa fighting off what he thought was a tapir, but a big freaking tapir with tusks that jutted out of his mouth. Alyssa was jumping and parrying and striking as she could. She was a blur of steel. Yet he could hear nothing. Not her grunts, not the tapir’s screams. Black blood sprayed across her chest yet he heard nothing.

Alex turned back to the gel. It was a dark, dark burgundy, nearly black. It seemed impossible to clear it all.

“You are DeadBlood,” a voice said to him. By the low timber and strength it was Dyn.

Yes, Alex was DeadBlood which apparently meant he was invincible or something and with Dyn at his side, he almost believed it.

Bracing himself, Alex drew the corruption in. He was DeadBlood, it could not hurt him. He was a receptacle. He had no dog in this fight. His stomach roiled and a pain shot through the back of his eye, but he continued.

“Oh my God,” Alyssa breathed behind him, apparently her battle concluded.

Alex opened his eyes to find a teen sitting across from him with maybe a bit more fuzz on his cheeks than you would normally find but no one would ever say he was an ape.

The boy pulled his hand out of the gel that was now clear and turned it up and down, studying it.

“How can I thank you?” the boy asked.

Dyn patted the teen on the back. “Get out there and convince the others to stop fighting.”

* * *

Tyr’s arm began to shake. The bone was getting heavier and heavier. The others stayed back but that was only so they could group in mass. The full assault was only moments away. He could feel it.

Salista was at his back, her form shaping to his. He wished to comfort her, but what comfort could he give her?

None.

So he stood in front of her blocking as much of the impending horror as he could.

“Did you hear that?” Salista asked.

He could hear a dozen beasts growling and a hundred snakes rattling. Was that what she meant? He doubted so.

Trying to block out the beast’s various warnings, Tyr thought he heard something too. A roar? But not a beast’s roar. It sounded wetter than that.

The beasts must have sensed it as well since the front line launched their attack.

A wildebeest burst forward, his head down, his horns pointed straight at Tyr. He swung the bone around and came at the beast with a left hook. The bone hit the side of the wildebeest’s head, knocking the beast off balance.

The bone was great for defense, but offense? Finishing off a beast? That did not seem like it was going to happen.

Tyr cocked his arm back again though. If he only had defense, he would play the best defense he could.

Then the sound of water became louder and louder. Vitalis looked behind him as a full height wave rushed toward them. Unfortunately the wave was pushing about a hundred snakes forward with it. They were slithering over the water’s surface.

As the wave came at them, Tyr backed them into the side tunnel, wrapping his arms around Salista. He grabbed a blood vial of “soft” blood and smashed it against his coat.

“Hard!” he uttered as the wave hit. Beasts were thrown everywhere.

The blood magic made them not only heavy enough to not be tossed around by the wave, but to stand up to the snakes that were trying to bite anything in their path. It even protected them from the badger who took a swipe at them on his way past.

The wave rose, coming harder and faster.

His trick was not going to last much longer.

With Salista in his arms, he pushed off the wall, cutting across the main tunnel to the smaller tunnel they had come from. They bumped into a hippo who was doing the best out of all the beasts. Luckily it knocked them in the direction they needed to go.

The wave surged carrying them faster and faster down the small tunnel. They were only inches from the top of the rock.

Water splashed into Tyr’s mouth making him sputter and he drew Salista close to him. He could not lose her in this tsunami.

The wave hit the wall, doubling back onto itself. They were churned under for a moment, then thrust back up. Sal coughed and choked in his arms, but put a thumb up, Tyr assumed that meant she was not in dire need.

The water carried them up the shaft, jostling them against the walls and each other. The force of the water a constant pressure to rise, always rise. They were flung from the opening, high into the air, riding a column of water.

You could see forever as they rode to the top. Their ride did not end though. The force of it all hurled them into the sky. Tyr held tight to Salista as they flew without wings.

Then just as abruptly their flight was over and they were hurling back to earth.

* * *

Sal clung to Tyr like she’d never clung to him before as they tumbled through the air. This was going to hurt.

Then they hit the column of water on its way down. It was a bit of a shock, but at least all her bones felt intact. The force of the water was not what it once was as they slowly sank back down to ground level.

Before they were sucked back into the shaft, Tyr kicked and sent them out of the column and onto the ground. Sal rolled feeling sand cling to her hair. That was never going to come out, but she really couldn’t complain, could she? She was alive and apparently intact.

She breathed in and out staring up at the sky. It was a sapphire blue. Sal didn’t think that she’d ever seen such a beautiful sky in her life. There were no clouds. No crows. No anything. Just a huge blue canvas to paint their future across.

Tyr held out his hand. She took it. Yep, it felt pretty damned good to be alive.

He pulled the bone out of his belt. They had done it. Thwarted Vitalis again. And even though it seemed impossible, they couldn’t assume he’d been killed down in that mine. He probably saved himself at the expense of his beasts. That guy was a giver all right.

“Salista,” Tyr said with a warning in his voice. She rolled over to find a figure approaching. It seemed to move too slowly and clumsy to be a beast.

Tyr raised his bone, but the figure waved back. Odd to say the least.

Then she recognized him, waving back. “Lionel!”

The physicist kicked up into a trot, nearly lost his footing then went back to speed walking. He wore quite the smile as he approached. “Told you I’d figure something out.”

She accepted his extended hand and rose to her feet. “That was you?”

“Um yah!” Lionel exclaimed. “That reservoir valve didn’t open itself.”

She hugged him wet and all. He cringed but too bad, she was too happy to stop.

“Okay, okay, I got it,” Lionel said extracting himself from her embrace.

“Did you spot Vitalis on your way way?” Tyr asked. He couldn’t even take a moment to celebrate.

Lionel nodded. “I think he opened the service door and got swept out the side tunnel to the wash you passed on your way up.”

“Then we must hurry and finish this while he is vulnerable.”

Sal didn’t even argue, she just started running.

CHAPTER 18

Alex climbed after the teen. Even though he had lost his gorilla coat, the guy could still climb like a champ.

They were striking for the highest tower in the castle. The battle still raged on below, but with the soldiers weakened from the disease, it could not last much longer.

Finally the teen caught hold of the uppermost spire and steadied himself against the metal jutting up into the sky.

“Navarta!” he yelled into the night sky. His voice barely carried to the courtyard let alone the entire castle.”

“Could you?” the teen asked. “I fear if I make myself louder, I will…”

The teen didn’t have to say anything. They knew what might happen. The stump of his arm, bandaged in white told the story for him.

Alex didn’t know what the word meant, but apparently it was important to the beasts.

He turned to the courtyard and yelled, adding in the energy of an edict. “Navarta!”

His voice echoed off the distant foothills.

Oh, the beasts had heard him alright. All heads turned in his direction. Not many of them friendly. The beasts glared with their slit irises, looking hungry for his blood.

The teen held up his hand. “I am Togaro!” he yelled. This time with the din of battle quieted, the teen’s voice carried. “I was once a beast like you. I thought I had found freedom in intent, but instead I became a thrall to Vitalis.”

Snarls and growls rose from above.

“I did not wish this war. I know many of you did not either!”

He held up his bandaged arm. “I have lost this but many of my brothers and sisters have lost so much more.”

This gave the beasts below pause. They milled, not acting out their hostility quite so much.

“These DeadBlood can do what no one believed possible before. They can clear us of our corruption. Make us human again!”

This got another round of hisses and growls, however not nearly as many before.

Togaro looked to Alex. “If you surrender yourselves, the King promises no retribution. You will be healed and allowed to leave. All past sins washed away.”

No hisses at that. The teen had explained to Dyn and Alex what the fears of the beasts were. Dyn had gotten instant permission to offer amnesty to any beast who shed their hide.

Alex looked down at the weary soldiers who swayed on their feet. This had better work.

“Where do we go?” a tall giraffe asked.

“Simply line up at the dining hall doors. We will take you in order.”

There was no individual acceptance, just a line that began to form at the entrance to the royal palace.

A few beasts tried to stay strong, swatting at any of their own that tried to defect, but it seemed a half-hearted effort. And soon any beasts that were not lining up were fleeing back over the castle walls.

“You did it,” Alyssa said with a smile from the level below.

“No,” Alex said, giving credit where credit was due. “Togaro did it.”

He helped the teen down from the spire.

Now to find Tyr and Salista. Since they hadn’t fallen into the ocean yet, he assumed their quest was successful. Vitalis was vanquished. Or so he hoped.

* * *

Tyr climbed down the low hill, trusting that the others followed. A very soaked and thin lion stood in the wash, the last of the water swirling at his feet. He looked mangy and decrepit. Finally his brother’s outside matched his inside.

There were only a few beasts who survived with him. One looked to be a mongoose, the other a pig, and the last a beaver. Not a very strong showing.

Even with only the bone, Tyr thought he could take them.

At first he trot, then he broke out into a run, slipping and sliding down the sandy embankment.

This needed to end here and now. While his brother was the most vulnerable he had ever been.

But Vitalis was prepared for a hasty exit. He smashed several blood vials on the ground.

No, not again. Tyr tired of bouncing from time to time. His brother needed to learn how to stand and fight.

“Vitalis!” Tyr shouted, trying to bait the beast, but if there was one thing that Vitalis had learned in all of this, it was survival.

A vortex swirled in the water.

No.

Tyr picked up speed. The vortex was not vertical, it was horizontal. The beast wished to side-stream.

“Hurry!” Tyr yelled to the two behind him. Side-streaming was by far the hardest vortex to conjure and he doubted even Lionel had the types of blood they would need.

The other beasts leapt into the vortex while Vitalis stood guard.

There was absolutely nothing that Tyr could do as his brother joined the beasts, disappearing into the red swirling energy.

Tyr could not worry for the two behind him. He had to catch his brother. So he leapt into the breach. Twisting he found Salista not far behind him. She threw herself toward him. He caught only her hand. Salista held onto Lionel. But the tug of the vortex called him, yet the other two were anchoring him between the distances.

“Let go of him,” Tyr shouted, not knowing if his words could reach his love’s ears.

* * *

Tyr could not be serious. Yet, she could feel the vortex closing.

“Sorry,” Sal said, releasing Lionel’s hand. The man tried to cling to her, but she allowed his fingers to slip through hers.

She was immediately jerked into the vortex and it swirled tighter and tighter.

Immediately she could feel the difference in this vortex. It felt like a thousand fingernails on a thousand chalkboards, across her corneas. Her teeth chattered threatening to shatter her jaw.

A scream penetrated her chest and refused to release. Her blood felt clotted in her feet. She had been ripped from Tyr’s hand. Spinning uncontrollably, Sal feared her limbs would fly apart without his support.

Just as suddenly as she was transported to hell, the vortex blew out, dropping Sal hard on rock.

Yes, Rock.

Ugh.

“What the hell was that?” Sal asked.

Tyr did not seem to recover nearly as quickly from this vortex either. He was still on his knees. “A side-stream.”

“Is it always that bad?”

“That was a minor one,” Tyr reported. “Time likes to flow so traveling up and down the stream is a bit like a river. A side-stream,” he groaned before continuing, “goes against the nature of time and space.”

Sal could believe it. As she pushed herself up, she recognized the gold vein that ran through the granite. This was Tyr’s family castle. As she found her feet with Tyr’s help, she realized she had guessed right.

Although the sight was not quite so pretty as it had been before. Bodies littered the courtyard. Both beast and man. It was a slaughterhouse. Blood pooled in great slick pools. Even the fountain in the center of the courtyard ran red.

All this death and destruction.

“Do you see him?” Tyr asked, spinning around, clearly searching for his brother.

Sal surveyed the scene but could not spot him either. However toward the palace’s entrance stood a large number of beasts.

Tyr must have spotted the same thing as he picked up a sword from one of the dead guards and charged, a war cry on his lips.

* * *

Tyr charged. The beasts were clearly assaulting the royal palace. His mother and father and sister were in there. He might have issues with each and every one of them, but he could not stand by as they were torn limb by limb.

Strangely, Haviana burst from a side door, blocking his path. “No!” she yelled. What was wrong with her?

He went to push her out of the way, but she held her ground. “The beasts have surrendered.” Haviana’s cheeks were flushed and her breathing erratic. She was speaking nonsense.

“Beasts do not surrender,” Tyr growled. His sister with little experience out in the field must have fallen for another of Vitalis’ rouses.

His sister grabbed the hilt of his sword. “Tyr, they have surrendered in exchange for Alex healing them.”

That must have been the single most ridiculous statement ever to be spoken by a royal and he’d heard a lot of odd things come from royals.

“Alex?” Salista asked from behind him.

Haviana nodded vigorously. “Please, come see, both of you. You’ll understand after you see it.”

Tyr snorted. He seriously doubted that.

* * *

Alex found that corruption was as individual as the person suffering from it. Even though many of these beasts had surrendered, when it came right down to it, they did not want to let their corruption go. It was as if they had identified with it too greatly, believing that the corruption was their soul.

He could tell them for certain it was not.

Try convincing them of that. A part of them still craved the high and the power of the corruption. They liked their new incarnation. They felt in charge and all powerful.

Funny, Alex noticed that the people that had descended into herbivores let go of their corruption easier. The carnivores, and especially the aggressive carnivores had the hardest time. They kind of liked their claws.

But each, with the right amount of coaxing, ascended back into their human form. Some didn’t seem too happy about it, but who cared as long as it stopped the war.

One little Tasmanian devil even tried to throw down an edict on him. Clearly he didn’t get the memo on what was happening here.

“Alex?” a voice called from the other side of the hall. Salista. He looked up, pulling the last of the corruption from a young woman.

His sister ran over, hugging him tightly. “So I take it Vitalis is out of the picture?”

“Not exactly,” she stated. “He side-streamed over to the castle and we lost him.”

“You’d think it would be easier to keep track of a giant lion,” Alex said, giving his sister a final hug. He had way more beasts to get to and he wanted them healed before they got any other ideas.

Still Salista grabbed him by the arm. “Alejandro, I’m proud of you and I know our parents would be too.”

Okay, time for one last hug. “Thanks, sis. That means a lot to me.”

As a matter of fact it meant so much to him, he nearly cried but Alyssa was standing right there. He didn’t think DeadBloods usually cried in public. He wasn’t going to buck that trend.

He sat down across from a thoroughbred beast. The thing towered over him.

“Okay, put your hand, I mean, hoof in the gel.”

“We cannot dawdle,” Tyr grumbled. “We must find Vitalis.”

Now that sounded like a DeadBlood.

* * *

“I agree, but where?” Sal asked.

Tyr’s face clouded over. Clearly he did not know. He turned to his sister.

“Where is the King?”

“In his chambers, he is still recovering from the virus,” Haviana answered. “He was one of the first afflicted.”

Sal knew even before he bolted he was going to run. She’d seen that look cross his face. That look of full engines ahead. You’d think she’d get her feelings hurt, but after all this time, she just had to accept that he was DeadBlood.

Sal and Haviana took after Tyr since Alex was pretty much rooted in place, trying to drain the giraffe of his corruption.

They bounded the steps only a few feet behind Tyr.

The scream up ahead was not all that unexpected.

They burst into the Royal Chambers to find Vitalis with the Queen in his grasp.

“You think you are so smart…” the beast hissed. “The bone or I slice her neck.”

“Clearly, you aren’t exactly up to speed on events,” Tyr chuckled, trying to convince Vitalis of his lack of concern. “She is DeadBlood, brother.”

This did seem to come as a shock to Vitalis. More so than even Tyr.

“That cannot be,” he growled.

“Oh and our sister, Haviana as well,” Tyr pressed, trying to keep his brother off balance and that knife away from their mother’s throat. “You apparently are the odd man out.”

Tyr knew that would rankle Vitalis. The lion growled, tensing. “Then neither of us will miss her?”

Tyr feigned a shrug. “Go ahead. Her death will be mourned but with the hundreds of beasts being bled of their corruption, and your plan thwarted, there will be cause enough for celebration.”

“You do not think I will do it?” Vitalis challenged.

“Oh, I think you will, I just don’t know what difference it will make.”

* * *

Sal couldn’t believe how Tyr was talking about his mother. She hoped that he was doing it just to stall his brother. Because if she’d talked to her Momma like that? Her behind would be tanned.

Then she noticed Haviana sneaking up behind a curtain. Vitalis seemed intent on Tyr, but another distraction couldn’t hurt.

“And we have the bone,” Sal said stepping forward.

The beast snorted. “This family will die.”

“Not by your hand,” Tyr stated as Haviana attacked from behind. She was able to throw Vitalis and the Queen forward. Sal grabbed the Queen’s arm, jerking her away from the beast.

Hiding behind a large chair, Sal watched as Vitalis struck Haviana so hard she tumbled backward, right out the window. Sal rushed over, the princess hung by her fingernails from the ledge.

“Die!” Vitalis screamed, attacking his brother.

The Queen came over and helped Haviana back up but the woman had a deep laceration to the forehead. Sal found it hard to concentrate on the injury though as Tyr and Vitalis duked it out in their parent’s bedroom.

“Put pressure here,” Sal instructed the Queen, then turned to the fight.

Tyr would stab and Vitalis would knock the attack away with a swat of his paw. He was unlike any other beast they had encountered. So descended but still so smart. And so strong.

Vitalis charged, Tyr counted, knocking a claw away just before it raked his chest.

Sal didn’t want to watch. She’d seen too many times the after effects of such a fight. Tyr seldom came out intact.

All of his experience seemed useless against Vitalis. It was almost like his brother was toying with a mouse rather than a DeadBlood. Haviana tried to rise, but swooned back down.

“I must help him,” Haviana stated but could not rise to fulfill her words.

The Queen took her daughter’s sword and charged into the fight. Vitalis’ first swipe connected, slashing his mother’s arm so deeply, she dropped the sword. Sal pulled her back from the fight by her petticoats.

Vitalis was beyond all of them, perhaps even Tyr.

Sal gulped as tears sprang to her eyes. Evil wasn’t supposed to be this strong, wasn’t good supposed to win out?

* * *

Tyr leapt out of the way of yet another attack. Vitalis seemed tireless whereas Tyr could feel exhaustion seeping into his muscles. Too much had been demanded of them for too long.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have been quite so stingy with Salista’s artificial HeartsBlood. His body cried out for it.

However, his brother had his corruption which seemed to only fuel him. The beast did not seem tired in the least. Even the bone could not sap all of his strength.

How could corruption make one stronger? In all his years of training and hunting, Dyn had never been able to explain that one.

The beast fought as five. Always spinning and avoiding Tyr’s attacks. He did not make any of the mistakes the other beasts did. He so seldom left himself vulnerable. Almost as if he could read Tyr’s mind. Knowing his ploy before Tyr himself launched it.

A shy too late, Tyr pivoted. Luckily Vitalis only tore his leather coat. He could not allow his guard to slip. He must parry and dance until he found his keeling blow.

Vitalis was such a strong fighter that it never occurred to Tyr that he would use blood magic, but the beast caught a vial on his claw, flinging it down, smashing it on the carpet.

A red fog formed, blocking Tyr’s view. He couldn’t find Vitalis until it was too late. The beast was in mid-air, coming for Tyr. There was no way he was going to get his sword around in time. He refused to cringe back though.

If he were to die, it would be looking his brother right in the eye.

Just as the fatal blow as about to be delivered, Tyr spotted a glint of steel.

Was it his mother?

His sister?

It wasn’t a sword wielded, but a mace. The ball smashed Vitalis in the side of the head, knocking the beast off trajectory. He landed with a thud on the floor. The beast tried to get his feet under him, but they swam, uncontrollable.

Another blow and Vitalis was reduced to unconsciousness.

The figure rose up behind the beast.

His father. “No one in my family is going to die,” the King declared then promptly fell over.

CHAPTER 19

Sal rushed over to the King. He didn’t seem injured, just weak from the virus he narrowly survived. The Queen rushed over to the beast, stroking his dredlocks back.

“Vitalis. Vitalis,” she murmured then turned to Haviana. “Run down, get Alex and his gel.”

Tyr’s sister gave a quick nod then tried to leave the room, but Tyr grabbed her wrist. “I think not.”

Haviana jerked her arm from Tyr. “I will do as the Queen has commanded, DeadBlood.”

With that his older sister marched from the room.

Tyr stepped by his mother’s side. “You cannot be thinking of trying to revert him.”

“Why not?” the Queen asked. “He is my son.”

“But all that he has done? Is he not past your mercy?” Tyr asked.

Sal left the King’s side. This argument could get ugly. She wasn’t quite sure where she stood. She hated everything that Vitalis had done to her, to everyone, but killing the beast while he lay there unconscious also rankled Sal’s Hippocratic oath. She had certainly broken that one herself, hadn’t she? How could she argue that Tyr not?

“I have failed him once, Tyr, please do not make me fail again.”

Tyr’s face clouded over. He and his mother certainly had a complicated relationship. And Sal thought she and her mother had it tough.

She put a hand on Tyr’s arm, but he withdrew it. He clearly knew what she was going to say.

“Side with her, all of you side with her, but if we do not dispatch the beast now, there will only be sorrow in the future.”

“Then let it be my sorrow,” the Queen begged.

Still Tyr pulled his sword, the whistle of the metal making the Queen cringe.

“Please, Tyr…” she begged, laying her body over her son’s.

The DeadBlood did not strike for the heart. Instead he cut off a single lock from Vitalis’ head. He showed it to his mother.

“He is corrupted. To the core. Willingly, without hesitation, mother.”

He used the term like a curse though.

“I will make a ward out of this, because mark my words, I will need it.”

Then he stormed off. Sal stood for a moment, not sure what to do. But the Queen was collapsed over Vitalis, crying her eyes out.

Sal knew where she was needed. At this point Tyr would just grunt at her. So she went over and hugged the Queen’s back. She looked up, her eyes just a pool of tears. “What have I done? So many children. So many that hate me.”

Shaking her head, Sal comforted her. “Tyr and even Alyssa don’t hate you, ma’am.”

At least she hoped they didn’t. She also didn’t include Vitalis, because that son, that one certainly seemed to hate everyone, his Royal parents in particular.

She stroked the Queen’s back. Tyr and Alyssa will come around.”

“How could I have prevented this?” the Queen asked.

Sal didn’t answer because she had no freaking clue.

* * *

Alex had just finished leaching the corruption from a dog-beast. The man was so excited and thankful that Alex feared the guy was going to lick him on the cheek as a thank you.

Then Haviana was there, shoving through the line, he had at least another two dozen to go, grabbed the gel container and turned on her heel.

“Come with me.”

What the heck was going on? However with the stiffness of Haviana’s shoulder and stern look of her lips, Alex wasn’t about to ask.

Alyssa raised an eyebrow but followed him to the stairs that led to the Royal Chambers. Her feet faltered on the first step.

“Look, if you don’t want to go, I get it,” Alex stated.

She shook her hair. “No, I will not allow them to control my behavior.”

Okay, so she was still pretty pissed but he took it as a good sign that she was coming with him anyway.

Haviana was taking the stairs two at a time, so they followed suit. Quickly they reached the Royal bedchamber.

Alex had no way to know what lay beyond that chamber, but not in a million years would it have been what he witnessed.

The beast. The beast lay on the plush rug with the Queen draped over him. Tyr was nowhere to be found. Just the King in his bed and Salista standing over the Queen.

What the heck had happened and why was he here?

“Heal him,” Haviana stated bluntly.

Alex took a step back. She was kidding right? Although her expression certainly did seem like a joke at all.

Alyssa hissed, “What is the meaning of this?”

The Queen rose from her son’s unconscious body. “The meaning is to try to rehabilitate him. Lock him forever in a prison but do not take my son from me.”

Alyssa’s face clouded over as she frowned, but she did not argue with the Queen.

Alex looked to his own sister. “Salista, is Tyr okay with this?”

Salista crossed her arms over her chest. “This is not Tyr’s call.”

Okay, so that’s how it was going to be. Great.

“And Dyn? I mean, I feel really, really uncomfortable doing this without someone’s permission.”

“You have the Queen’s,” the older woman stated waving him over.

Alex gulped. This was beyond weird.

“I normally need the beast’s help with bleeding the corruption away…”

“Just do your best,” the Queen said, taking the gel and setting it next to Vitalis. “That is all I can ask.”

Still, that wasn’t necessarily making Alex feel much better about this. But he couldn’t exactly say no to the Queen, now could he?

“I am going to check on my mother,” Alyssa stated, leaving the room.

If only Alex could get away so easily.

* * *

Tyr stalked the ramparts, checking on the injured, scouring the horizon for any more beasts. However he wasn’t doing any of that as his duty, he was doing it to avoid going back to the Royal Chambers. If nothing else but to protect them from Vitalis. Even human, the man would be a threat.

The others had not known him, hunted him for decades the way Tyr had. They did not know his cunning and devious soul. Tyr could now see that Vitalis had been corrupted long before the corruption found his bloodstream.

Intent was only a means to an end for the evil in Vitalis’ soul. Take the corruption out and his brother would find another way to put it back in.

The cool night air was not doing anything to calm his troubled heart. His anger at his mother, sister and brother were comingling in his chest, causing him an ache he hadn’t felt since Lainli died.

But his family was alive, at least for the moment. He could mend the broken bridges of his life. Or at least try to. It would be what Lainli would want. He felt certain of it. A way to honor her in a way he had not yet been able to find.

So he turned on his heel and headed back to the Royal Chambers until Dyn appeared from the shadows.

“Do you go to stop it or support it?” his thane asked.

There was no need to clarify what “it” was.

“To stand by in case of need,” Tyr answered.

Dyn nodded his head. “I must say even I am trepidations about this endeavor.”

“You?” Tyr snorted. “I would have thought that you would have the swaddling blankets out.”

His thane shook his head sadly. “I wish I had such hope in my heart for Vitalis’ rehabilitation.”

Silently they traveled the rest of the way to the Royal Chambers. Dyn opened the door quietly.The two slipped in as Alex struggled to pull the corruption from Vitalis.

Clearly the teen had been at it a while. Perspiration beaded his smooth forehead. Yet the thick solution was barely pink. This was not going how the Queen had hoped.

Tyr’s eyes found Sal’s gaze. She gave a sad smile.

The “I told you so,” he had relished uttering stalled in his throat.

Vitalis was horrible. Just awful, but the people trying to save him were not. They were trying something noble, even if the end result might not be quite so noble.

He looked to Dyn. His thane nodded. Their thoughts were united.

Tyr, followed by Dyn walked over to Alex and knelt by him. This was such a foolhardy task, yet he found he could not disappoint his womenfolk. Tyr plunged his hand into the gel. Haviana joined them as Dyn did the same. The Queen followed suit.

Now with five DeadBlood doing the asking, corruption spilled from Vitalis, a bright stark, glowing red.

There was so much corruption. So much. Too much. Could they ever truly drain it all?

* * *

Sal watched as the DeadBloods tried to help Vitalis. Yet even with the beast unconscious it was hard going. Even now the solution was only a light red. To look at Vitalis there was no physical change yet.

Would this even work on Tyr’s brother. She began to doubt it. Then Alyssa came back into the room. She surveyed the scene as her young lips turned downward.

“How is your mother?” Sal asked, trying to break the tension.

“Better,” Alyssa stated still frowning. “This is taking a while.”

Sal didn’t bother to respond. They both knew why.

Sal took a risk. “Will you join them?”

“Why should I?”

“Because no matter what, they are family,” Sal responded. How she wished she could go back and treat her own family better.

Alyssa’s frown deepened, but Sal didn’t think it meant she was angrier. It seemed like she was sadder.

“They have always treated mother and I like family…”

Sal didn’t say anything, she would allow the girl to come to her own conclusions.

Wordlessly the girl went over and sat next to Alex. With a deep breath, she put her hand into the gel. Rapidly the gel went from a light red, to a brick red, to magenta.

Sal watched in wonder as the dreadlocks retreated and the fur left Vitalis’ nose. His claws reverted to fingernails.

Unlike any other beast’s reversion, the gel moved, swirling, churning. In truth it was a bit nauseating. She could only imagine what it felt like to the DeadBloods, but each kept their hand in the solution.

With each moment, Vitalis became more like the handsome prince he was meant to be. It wouldn’t be long before he was cleared of corruption.

What then?

* * *

Alex could feel the corruption try to grab hold of him, but he was DeadBlood and he had no intent to corrupt. He had to breathe slowly and steadily to allow the corruption to flow through him then out.

He’d done dozens of other beasts, but Vitalis was in a class of his own. It was like the corruption had taken root and was actually multiplying inside of him. Alex had to nearly claw the corruption out. It did not like to flow like the others.

He could feel the others around him struggle as well. Vitalis had enough stored corruption to fill a hundred buckets of the gel.

Feeling bone tired, he had to keep himself upright. He wanted to just let go and sprawl on the floor, but they were so close. Alex could feel it. This last bit of corruption was hanging on, but it wasn’t a lot anymore. Now it was the long slow procedure of uprooting all those nooks and crannies of Vitalis’ soul.

Alex opened his eyes. The gel was pink again. Not because they were failing but because they were succeeding. He looked beyond the container to see Vitalis laid out naked. Human.

Okay, Alex could never un-see that.

He averted his eyes as he pulled the last of the corruption out. The gel stained red one last time, then cleared.

The others pulled their hands out of the solution as well.

Vitalis seemed to stop breathing. Perhaps without corruption his body forgot how to live.

Then the man’s eyes jerked open and he sat up abruptly, then promptly punched Alex right in the nose.

* * *

Tyr dove for Vitalis as the beast-who-no-longer-looked-like-a-beast rose, unashamed of his nakedness. Non-apologetic for his past crimes. Instead he’d committed another one the second he was conscious.

“He’s confused!” the Queen cried, but Tyr knew him too well.

And newly awakened, Vitalis still had the reflexes of a beast in human form. He rolled out of the way. Tyr heard Dyn’s blade slip out of his thane’s scabbard.

“No!” the Queen cried out, but this had to end and more than likely at the tip of a sword.

Bleeding down his side from their father’s blow that took Vitalis down, Tyr’s brother leapt back, snatching a sword from above a wall mount. He waved the weapon in front of him.

“What have you done?” he hissed sounding nearly like he did as a beast.

“They tried to save you, but you and I know better, don’t we Vitalis?”

The others rose, cutting Vitalis off from his exit. Their mother blocking the door. She might want to save her son, but at the least she recognized he was a danger and could not be let out of the room.

“Back!” Vitalis barked, issuing a powerful edict, but only Sal stumbled back.

Tyr smiled, relishing the shock and surprise in his brother’s eyes. “They are DeadBlood, brother. Your mother and sister.”

“No,” Vitalis hissed.

“Yes, child,” The Queen stated. “Please, please put down the sword.”

But that edict had already cost Vitalis. A bit of fur coated his nose. His descent had already begun moments after his salvation.

“Vitalis, this is the end, brother. Surrender,” Tyr said. He actually hoped that his brother complied. As much as he hated all that Vitalis did, Tyr would admit that with his brother in human form it would be harder to skewer him.

Harder but not impossible.

Dyn took a step forward. Tyr followed suit. The two of them could take this weakened form. Tyr had no doubt. You could even see the fear in Vitalis’ eyes. No matter how defiant his words, his eyes showed his true self.

“Surrender to what? The constant siren call of corruption? Descent after descent?”

“It does not have to be like that,” the Queen begged.

Vitalis turned to their mother. “Doesn’t it? What would you know you DeadBlood witch? What would you know of my suffering?”

If the situation hadn’t been so dire, Tyr would have chuckled. The amount Vitalis had suffered. What of the hundreds of his victims? There was not a cemetery in the land to hold all of those.

“I cannot,” Vitalis announced, his jaw set, his sword up. He took to the window, backing onto its ledge.

Tyr took another step forward, they could not allow him to disappear into the night. He prepared to launch himself before Vitalis took action.

“You cannot go where I go, brother,” Vitalis said, almost sounding human.

Then his brother threw himself backwards out the window.

Tyr suspected some kind of trick. Some secret escape route.

The Queen screamed as Tyr jumped forward, landing on the ledge.

What he found surprised even him.

* * *

Sal rushed forward with the rest.

The Queen was the first one there. Her wail pierced the night air, but Sal couldn’t tell what it meant. Had Vitalis escaped or…

Then she got to the window. Vitalis lay dead on the stone far below the bedroom. Red blood pooled around his head. The beast wasn’t faking it now.

Vitalis was dead.

Sal couldn’t help it. A sigh of relief coursed through her body.

It was over. It was finally over.

The Queen collapsed into her daughter’s arms. Not Haviana, but Alyssa’s.

Dyn backed away. “He did the right thing.”

The Queen shook her head, sobbing so heavily her words were incoherent.

Sal knew that Dyn was right though. She could still feel the seductive call of the corruption and she’d only been mildly corrupted for a few minutes. She could only imagine how it felt to have been nearly fully descended for years.

That was not something you were going to get over. Suicide had been Vitalis’ only salve. The only way he could get away from the corruption. At the least he chose something other than descending again, killing again.

Alyssa led the Queen away from the window. Away from the sight of her dead son.

“I feel sorry for him,” Tyr said.

Sal turned to him. That didn’t sound like Tyr. “Really?”

Tyr shrugged. “He clearly was lost. A toddler trying to rule the world.”

Perhaps Tyr was right. She slipped her hand into his. It had been his love and Alex’s that had gotten her through her brief flirtation with corruption. Vitalis knew no such love. Not even apparently the love of the woman carrying his child.

And according to her, he was willing to sacrifice even his own baby to answer the call of the corruption. It was that deeply seeded in his bones.

Sal shuddered to think of a life like that.

Dyn stepped forward. “Let his life be a cautionary tale to all who think power brings happiness.”

Alex came over and wrapped his arm around her waist. “This is some world you brought me to, sis.”

Leaning her head against Tyr’s shoulder, Sal replied. “Yes, yes it is.”

Then the doors burst open and Lionel, along with his papers rushed into the room.

“Lionel, how did you get here?” Sal asked. They’d had to hitchhike Vitalis’ vortex.

“Oh please, like I can’t analyze the combinations of blood in a vortex and recreate a side-stream,” Lionel chuckled. Then looked around the room splattered in blood. “What did I miss?”

EPILOGUE

Alex stood to the side of the aisle. The castle was decked out. He’d never seen so much gold and silk and jewels. Unlike in his age, where all the men wore tuxedoes, here the DeadBlood wore their dress leathers. Lionel was the only one dressed in fine silks.

The King and Queen had spared no expense for the wedding of their only son.

Yep, Tyr and Sal were finally tying the knot, apparently in front of the entire kingdom. The realm kind of needed a pick-me-up after the last few months.

First the attack by Vitalis.

Then the revelation that their Queen and princess were in fact DeadBloods.

The official decree gutting all the laws and restrictions against all DeadBloods.

Oh, and did he mention finding out they had another princess? Alyssa?

Yah, the population needed a big splashy win. And nothing did that more than celebrating true love. And that Tyr and Sal certainly had it in spades.

Uncomfortably so.

Funny, none of them had ever discussed going back to their age. They all just settled in to their new home. There was something about this age that could not be denied. Was it the fresh air? The feeling of vitality? Or was it the sense of purpose?

Salista was helping to build hospitals rather than simply working in one. Alex was about to go on his first mission without a thane. There were rumors that a northern realm had been besieged by beasts. Alex was to go up and assess the situation and try to convince the northern King to spare the beasts and try to revert them. If all else failed, DeadBloods still carried their swords.

Alex looked down the long aisle. Tyr was already at the ornate altar. Haviana and Alyssa were Salista’s bridesmaids and Dyn and Lionel were Tyr’s groomsmen.

That left Alex to walk his sister down the aisle.

Talk about stressful. Like taking on a beast stressful, although there wasn’t a lot of that going on these days.

No, now the kingdom had two new agendas. Educate the people about the DeadBlood’s new status as equals. And to teach them that beasts could be reverted. Honestly, Alex wasn’t sure which agenda was harder to accomplish.

But today, today was all about celebrating their hard won victories. It was a day to celebrate love.

Even though Salista was like five minutes late. Where in the heck was she? She certainly wasn’t leaving Tyr at the altar.

The harpist cued up the music as Alex turned to find his sister walking toward him.

Wow. Like seriously, wow. Salista cleaned up nicely. Her cream colored gown spread out behind her, forming a train that looked more like a river flowing with each step. Her gown was covered in tiny pearls, each hand stitched. Her veil was of the finest threads, so gossamer thin you had to look twice to realize it truly was cloth.

And her face. It glowed, just glowed.

“Took your time, sister,” Alex fake grumbled.

“Shush, I had a stomach thing.”

Alex looked more closely at his sister. He knew when she was lying. “Nice try.”

Salista frowned. “Fine. I’m pregnant, alright?”

“You’re what?” Alex blurted.

“Shush!” Salista scolded. “I haven’t told anyone yet. Just act normal.”

Right, like that was going to happen. He gulped and took a step forward, offering his arm to Salista. Pregnant. Would the wonders never cease?

He was going to be an uncle. So weird. His mom would have been so thrilled.

A true blessing on a blessed day.

* * *

Tyr felt his breath catch in his throat as he watched Salista walk down the aisle. She had never looked so beautiful. And it was not the fine silks or the make-up but the look on her face. She was simply radiant. And his.

He could barely wait until Alex brought her up the altar. He offered her his hand and helped her up the steps.

Unlike other young boys, Tyr had never dreamed of this moment. How could he? He was DeadBlood. None of this should have come to pass.

But here he was about to be married to a woman who hadn’t come from his dreams, but created them out of thin air.

He looked around at his family. They may not be what Salista’s generation would call, “one, big, happy family,” but slowly over the months they had become family.

Tyr looked down to find Salista crying. Were they tears of joy or had she finally realized she had made a monumental mistake staying here with him?

“I’m pregnant,” she whispered.

No matter the decorum or the ceremony with its pomp, Tyr grabbed his intended around the waist and swung her around. They knocked over a few vases, but he didn’t think the Queen would mind.

Finally he set her back down properly, kissing her cheek.

The fear and horror of the last time he’d heard those words was now transformed into a happiness that coursed through his veins. A child. His child. Where they could live in the open. No hiding. No lying.

He hugged her again as the King, his father, cleared his throat. Time to get to the actual nuptials.

* * *

Salista was so incredibly relieved. She’d known who had their man freak out when they gave news like that. Not Tyr. He really was all in. And despite her initial trepidation, so was she.

Married with a baby on the way. Her mother died far, far too early. She would have been ecstatic. So would have been Maria. She would have made the best crazy aunt ever. Of course the child would have had a piercing after the first visit with Auntie, but Salista wouldn’t have minded.

Okay, maybe a little, but they would have hugged it out.

The King was murmuring on, but Salista could barely hear him. Her head was filled with her own thoughts. Her own hopes for the future.

Then the King cleared his throat. “Sal?”

She smiled. She was Sal no longer. Tyr had brought the Salista out in her.

“Salista, your majesty. Salista.”

That brought a smile to Tyr’s face.

“Then Salista do you take this man, and DeadBlood, Tyr to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

There was no doubt in Salista’s mind when she answered to her fiancé, her unborn child and the country she had adopted. “I do.”

BLOOD LETTING – the “wrap-up” short story to the Blood Magic Saga

CHAPTER 1

Alex fussed with his leather armor. He’d gotten used to wearing it, but today it felt tight, constricting. His new mare, Mabel, pawed at the ground, chomping on her bit, literally. Yep, his horse was way more eager to be on the road to the Northern Slopes than he was.

Salista fussed with the buttons at the back of his vest. He almost shouted out, “Mom!” but thankfully realized his mistake before he spoke it.

“Salista!” he hissed as the rest of the Royal guard gathered around. DeadBlood were not supposed to have older sisters primping over them.

“What, now it is a crime to be proud of your DeadBlood brother?” Salista teased back.

“It should be,” he whispered back stepping away from her.

A slight frown creased her face. The expression looked so unusual. These days, in this new world, Salista was all smiles. She was married to the man she loved. She was preggers. Salista was just starting to show. Otherwise she was just getting a belly from all the great cooking in the castle. Add to that his sister was a princess, so not much to complain about on that front.

Her ring finger carried possibly the single largest rock in the history of wedding rings. That didn’t hurt either.

Tyr patted him on the back. “You are going only to negotiate with the King. Do not take any kind of action until you have more DeadBloods.”

Alex gulped. For his first “solo” mission, this should be a cakewalk, which was kind of why it kind of worried him. So far when it came to beasts, he hadn’t had the easiest time.

Dyn stepped forward and shook his hand. “You are ready.”

Alex tried not to scoff. Ready? He’d barely been in training for three months. Most DeadBloods were trained from birth and went out on their first solo trip when they were thirteen. Alex was the exception. He gathered it was kind of embarrassing to Dyn and Tyr that he was so “old,” seventeen and still hadn’t had his first solo mission.

So they had cooked up this trip to the North. DeadBloods were in flux. Their primary mission was no longer to kill as many beasts as they could, instead their primary goal was now to revert as many as possible.

Given the stream of angry DeadBloods that flowed through the castle, that concept wasn’t going over very well. Nor was it going well with the gentry nor the general population. Beasts had been the enemy for over 500 years, so it was going to take a while to change that mindset.

And Alex was the first of the new generation of DeadBloods. He didn’t have the prejudice that any of the other DeadBloods did. He was the ideal candidate to go North and speak on behalf of reverting the beasts.

Normally a DeadBlood’s first mission was to go fight a beast. That tradition too had to change. Hence the recon trip.

Supposedly the Northern Kingdom, what was once Alaska, had experienced a rash of beast attacks. Alex had plenty of the intent leaching solution with him in case he encountered any beasts along the way.

He patted Mabel who snorted her disdain. Standing here was a complete waste of time to the mare. Alex however could delay as long as possible before he had to go on an extended horseback ride. He’d begged, like gotten down on his hands and knees kind of begged to take the Jeep, but that was a non-starter.

All of his age’s vehicles had gone back into storage, out of sight, out of mind.

Darn it.

Then clapping thundered all around him. It wasn’t for Alex, he knew that for sure. The populace was still just a little wary of a teenager from another age.

The King and Queen though? Them the crowd loved. Including Princess Haviana and her newly adopted baby girl.

As many DeadBloods that flooded the castle was only eclipsed by the number of suitors for Haviana. Being newly discovered as a DeadBlood was putting no man off. It had been a revolving door of princes through the castle. They clogged the hallways and dining hall.

Lionel stood off to the side of Haviana. Alex knew that the strange physicist with his birth-control glasses and perennial papers had his eye on the Princess, but Alex worried for the guy. Haviana barely seemed to notice him. Like now, Lionel was standing just a few feet from her, but Haviana didn’t even glance his way.

No matter, Lionel was like her shadow. He’d probably changed more of little Lady Lilly’s diapers than Haviana had.

The King nodded to Alex. “Blessed be your journey.”

Alex bowed deeply.

Dyn slapped his back. “Time to mount up.”

Ugh. His thane knew how he hated it. But there was no delaying now. Not with the Royal family, including the newly crowned Princess Alyssa, watching him. Wait, why was Alyssa in a hunting dress?

Then she parted from her family and walked down the steps as another horse was brought out.

“I will be joining him.”

The Queen took a step down. “Alyssa, what are you doing?”

Clearly Dyn knew since he simply nodded to Alyssa and helped her mount up.

“Queen, I am DeadBlood, I too must go out into the wilds without my thane. I must prove myself just as Alex must.”

“But--”

Dyn stepped into the argument. “There are no buts, my Lady. She has had nearly the same training as Alex. She is ready.”

* * *

Alyssa couldn’t look the Queen in the eye. Nor her “father” the King. She looked straight at Dyn to gather the strength she would need to leave the castle.

In all her life, she’d only known castle life. She knew each and every crevice of the stone and surrounding lands. She had thought she would marry a knight, move from her room in the castle to another room in the castle and live a full life, all within the safe confines of the tall rock walls.

But now she knew that those rock walls did not necessarily keep you safe. She had also had some improbable truths thrust upon her. For one she was DeadBlood, and if that didn’t change her life enough, she was also the secret daughter of the King and Queen.

One of those would have been enough, but no. She got both.

The horse under her helped to calm her nerves, Alyssa had always loved riding. She glanced over to Alex who mounted in a rather awkward manner. Riding was not his strong suit. His ability to revert a beast? That he could run circles around anyone, even Dyn who was renowned for his healing skills.

“You don’t have to do this,” Alex said. “I can go on my own.”

“I’m not doing this for you,” Alyssa whispered. “I’m doing it for me.”

Alex smiled. He was one of the very few people that seemed to understand, at least a little, what Alyssa was going through. He too had his world turned upside down through no actions of his own.

Last night when she had gone to Dyn to discuss going on the journey with Alex, her thane hadn’t questioned her, not a single bit. It turned out that an acolyte didn’t have to go by themselves, they just couldn’t take their thane with them. In fact, even though he didn’t say it, she thought he was proud.

If Dyn knew the real reasons he wouldn’t be. This wasn’t about her proving herself or trying to be the best DeadBlood she could be. No, it was about getting the heck out of the castle.

Alex had truly lost his world and come to another. While this might still be her world, it was no longer her home.

Her bedroom on the Royal floor was too big. She wasn’t used to servants coming in and out of her room at all hours of the day and night. She was used to privacy. And her mother was no longer her mother.

There was no doubt the woman that had raised her loved her dearly, but now her mother was her servant.

And the suitors? Those that were rejected by Haviana, which was all of them, then came courting Alyssa.

She felt like she was going stir crazy within the stone walls.

This journey allowed her to clear her head, even as it swelled fear in her heart. She was leaving behind everything that she had ever known.

Which right now seemed like a good thing.

“Wait!” Lionel yelled from the staircase. Everyone turned to look at the odd little man as he trotted toward them. Her horse threatened to spook so she held the reins tight, convincing the horse that everything was okay.

Alex was not quite so successful. His horse reared, nearly tipping him over backward. If it were not for him having a death grip on the pummel he would have slid right off the back of the mare. It took Dyn to bring the horse back to his senses.

Lionel didn’t seem to realize the commotion he was creating as he waved for another horse to be brought out.

“What do you think you are doing?” Tyr boomed. He had never seemed all that fond of the physicist.

“Um, I’m going with them.”

* * *

Everyone looked shocked, Lionel thought. Why was everyone shocked? He swiveled his head around to look at Salista.

“I thought you said this was a good idea?” He asked.

Salista’s cheeks flushed under all the attention. “Sorry, Lionel, I did, but I thought you were going to talk to them first.”

Oh, yah, all that scheduling stuff. He’d always had a research assistant for that.

“Sorry, I thought it was obvious.”

“Apparently not,” Tyr answered. Why did the tall DeadBlood always have that sneer whenever he talked to Lionel? Was it because he was LiveBlood? Was Tyr a “bloodest”? Or in his case, a reverse “bloodest?”

He’d really expected more from Tyr.

“What’s the problem?” Lionel asked Dyn who at the least looked at him with only a frown.

“It is just… It is just most unusual. This is a DeadBlood’s trek, not a LiveBlood’s.”

Okay, so there was some discrimination going on. “But part of this journey is to test out the new gel. The more reversions I can attend, the more I can fine tune the gel, making it more and more efficient.”

Dyn smiled, looking up to the Royal Couple. “These are most unusual times, My Lord and Lady. I say if he is willing to join the DeadBloods, then we should allow him.”

The Royal Couple looked to one another, then to Tyr.

“This is ridiculous.”

Dyn’s smile did not waver. “And many said it was ridiculous to abolish the DeadBlood laws. We must, more than any, adapt to this new age.”

Tyr snorted, clearly disagreeing, but the tall DeadBlood backed away, effectively taking himself out of the argument.

Dyn’s smile grew. “It is settled then,” the man said, guiding a horse over to Lionel. He gulped. Lionel had been practicing, but a natural born horseman, he was not. But seriously, could he do any worse than Alex?

With that thought squarely in his mind, he mounted the horse, not even falling. Dyn took his notebooks and put them into a saddlebag.

“Then we are ready,” Dyn said, looking to the Royal Family.

Everyone waved them on, even Haviana. Was that wave for him? Had she actually noticed him?

Not caring that he looked like a dope, Lionel waved back.

Then his horse took off and Lionel kind of had to hang on with two hands.

CHAPTER 2

Alex cursed his luck. He hated this journey and they were only a week into it. They rode, made camp, ate, slept, then broke camp. The days blurred into one another. A relentless wave of cramps and aching muscles.

Granted the scenery was beautiful. They had gone from the low rolling hills of Northern California, up over Mount Shasta into the lush evergreen of what was once Oregon and Washington and now into the colder reaches of Canada. Supposedly they were a little over half way there.

He knew somehow he would stumble through this, but right now with his tailbone complaining, Alex had no idea how.

The snow was getting thicker and thicker. Even his gung-ho horse, Mabel, was stalling out.

“I think we need to seek a sled,” Alyssa stated.

“A sled?” Alex asked. That sounded like a brilliant idea as long as he could get off of Mabel.

Alyssa nodded. “It is how they move about in the North. By dog sled.”

Great. More animals that were probably going to destroy his life. But he had few other choices. They weren’t getting much farther with the horses.

Lionel pushed some papers in their direction. “I believe there is a village just west of here.”

Sure, why not?

Alex tugged on the left rein and Mabel was more than happy to leave the deep snow bank and head for the forest that lay to the west. They made quick time and found the village without much hassle.

Dear God, Alex had never been more glad to dismount. Dogs barked at their arrival to a small kennel.

He let Lionel and Alyssa go in to negotiate the exchange. He decided to walk it off.

The village wasn’t large. Just a few dozen huts. A tavern. A church, the usual. They had passed through dozens of them on their way north.

Seeing his DeadBlood leathers, mothers grabbed their children and tugged the fascinated youth back into the houses, slamming the doors shut. Alex had gotten used to it.

He was used to discrimination. He was used to people seeing a brown boy on the street and crossing it to avoid him. Now though it wasn’t the color of his skin, but the blood that flowed through his veins that made him a target.

There was a small fruit stand. Alex tossed a few coins to the old man and grabbed an apple. Who knew when they would find fruit again?

The old man smiled with a toothless grin and pocketed the money. Guess a DeadBlood’s coin was as good as LiveBlood’s to the old man.

He noticed a few black patches on the man’s fingers. It was common up above the tree line. Frost bite. Up here storms could come on hard and fast, catching farmers like this out in the wilds without enough shelter.

“May I?” Alex asked, extending his hand to the old man.

With hesitation, the farmer gave Alex his hand. He surveyed the injury. “For another six apples, I can heal this.”

The man gave a sideways glance, jerking his hand from Alex’s. An old woman came out of the house, yelling. “Do not use your magic on him! He will become a beast!”

She was shrill and kind of reminded him of that chick in the Princess Bride. She was white haired and wrinkled more than she wasn’t.

Alex didn’t bother to get into an argument with her. There were so many things wrong with her statement, it just wasn’t worth arguing. He’d learned the hard way. Old wives’ tales were more ingrained than any modern knowledge.

So Alex looked to the old man. “Your call.”

Even though his vernacular was from his age, the old man seemed to get the picture. He tossed Alex apple after apple until he reached six.

Alex put the apples in his bag and brought out a small vial of the artificial HeartsBlood. They had way more in the saddle packs. Alex had seen how quickly you could burn through the stuff, however this seemed like a wise use of the substance.

Sure, he had enough coin to buy all the fruit on this table, but that wouldn’t change this village’s mind about DeadBloods, now would it. As a matter of fact, flashing gold could get them in more trouble than not.

He took out a single drop of the healing solution and smeared it along the black edge of the frostbite. Salista had taught him how to augment the healing by calling out the immune cells in order. He had memorized it before he left.

The man smiled as he bent his finger, wiggling it once again. Alex repeated the procedure with each of the affected fingers until all ten were done.

He smiled as the old man looked at his hand in wonder.

“And see?” Alex said to the woman. “No fur on his nose. He is as right as rain.”

The old woman frowned, cowering back into the doorway.

“No, Winnie, look, I am healed,” the old man said, waving his pink fingers in the air.

The woman came out a step. “We have a grandson with a cough.”

Alex nodded, heading toward her.

“How much will it cost?” the old woman asked.

Alex would normally say “nothing,” but that would raise equal suspicion as tossing gold around. He looked to the meager offerings on the table. “I will take your last two peaches and any fresh bread you might have.”

The old woman’s eyes narrowed, then she gave a nod, heading into the home. The inside was dank and filled with soot from the hearth on the other side of the room.

The boy was in his bed, covered in four blankets. The old woman produced two fresh baked loaves and handed them to Alex.

He took them, sitting next to the child’s bed. You didn’t have to be a doctor to know the boy had pneumonia. Probably secondary to Whooping Cough that was common in the northern territories. The boy’s lips were grey and his breaths came in wheezing bursts.

Alex put a drop of the artificial HeartsBlood onto the boy’s chest and murmured the words that Salista had taught him. The old woman gasped as the boy started breathing deeper. Gasping he was so excited to be able to breathe again. His lips pinkened.

Still, Alex spared another drop. Infections were harder to beat and he didn’t want the boy to slide back down after he left.

The old woman, no longer cautious, rushed forward and hugged Alex. “Thank you, son, thank you.”

Alex blushed. He wasn’t used to all this positive reinforcement.

When he turned, he found Alyssa standing in the doorway. He couldn’t read the look on her face, so he untangled himself from the old woman and headed to the door.

“All in a day’s work,” Alex stated to the old woman, joining Alyssa at the door.

“Word spreads fast,” the belated Princess said as they walked back out into the street.

It looked like every man, woman and child of the village was in attendance.

So many in need.

* * *

Alyssa stayed back and allowed Alex to take on the most needy. She only pulled out her vial when it became apparent most of those left just needed their aches and pains alleviated and a minor cold or two.

Tyr would probably have a tantrum if he saw how much artificial HeartsBlood they were using, but he wasn’t exactly a people-person. She smiled thinking of her older brother. It was still such an odd concept. She had a brother. Well, she’d had two, but Vitalis had come to a sudden and horrible end. Alyssa was almost glad she hadn’t known him well.

Their eldest brother was truly the opposite of Tyr even if he was a bit grouchy.

After healing several of the villagers, a little girl came up, her head down, a scarf across her face.

“What’s wrong?” Alyssa asked, tilting the little girl’s chin up. The scarf fell away to reveal a severe cleft palate. The jagged scar ran from the girl’s lip to her nostril. It made her face seem crooked.

It was not fair but with a face like that, the girl wouldn’t have many suitors and without suitors how would she find a husband and without a husband how would the girl survive once her parents passed?

Alyssa found it sad to need a man for survival. But in an age where beasts roam, protection was needed. Would that change now? If the beast scourge was resolved could women step beyond their petticoats and stand alone without fear or shame?

She smiled, even though she’d thought being a DeadBlood would never be something to smile about. She didn’t need a man. While female DeadBloods were rare, due to something about the dominant gene being on the “Y” chromosome, they did exist. And not a one needed a man. They couldn’t have a man so they had learned to live without one.

They rode where they wished and did as they wanted.

Maybe this DeadBlood thing wasn’t going to be so bad.

While she might not need a man, sometimes they did come in handy. She glanced over to Alex. Concerned that the child’s injury was greater than her talent.

“Maybe you should do this one,” she said.

Alex shook his head though. “You can do it. Flesh wishes to flow. Blood wishes to flow. You can convince the tissue to go back to the way it should be.

Alyssa wasn’t so sure as she took a deep breath. She reminded herself that she had long been considered a “natural,” at healing. Raising baby birds that had seemed done for. Setting an overactive boy’s broken arm. But nothing like this.

Setting doubt aside, it had no place in intent, Alyssa focused on the girl’s lip. Imagining it whole. She set a single drop onto the flesh and wished it to go deep within the flesh, healing it from the outside in.

There was no discernable change, but Alyssa had seen enough healing to know that at times you didn’t see any result until the second drop.

This drop she smeared across the angry scar, wishing it to break apart the abnormal tissue and allow the healing tissue to rise to the surface. Before their eyes, the scar regressed, pulling down from the nose to the lip, then finally disappearing.

“Daisy!” the mother cried, grabbing her daughter, showering her small face with kisses.

The girl touched her lip and a smile broke out as tears streamed down her face. “Thank you,” she sobbed, falling into Alyssa’s arms.

Okay, so maybe this whole DeadBlood thing wasn’t going to be too bad.

* * *

Lionel was vibrating with excitement. He’d just had a major breakthrough and there was no one to share it with. It was completely unfair that there was no one to share it with.

About the only good thing about his age was that there were always a gazillion undergrad students to “oh” and “ah” at his brilliance. In this realm the praise was a little thin. So when he had an idea worthy of excitement it was ten times worse to have no one around to celebrate with.

He absently patted his mare, Marigold who whinnied at him. At the least she seemed to get it. Then she nuzzled his hand. Apparently she really only wanted another carrot.

“Et tu, Marigold?”

She didn’t seem to care about the Shakespearean dig, she just kept nibbling at his hand.

Finally he relented and dug in his pocket to get one. At the least she was forthcoming. Unlike Haviana. He’d thought if he hung around long enough, she could see how valuable he was and give him some notice. But nope, she did not. If she really didn’t like him, why hadn’t she had him sent away? Lord knew she had with every other man that had come knocking on her door. That had given him hope, apparently a false hope.

So now he was hoping that absence made the heart grow fonder. Although he held out little hope of it.

“Hey!” Alex yelled from the edge of the forest.

“What took you so long?” Lionel asked.

“Healing a village,” Alyssa answered. “Did you get the sled and dogs?”

Lionel shook his head as he noticed that the two DeadBloods were carrying many more items than they had before they went into the forest. Payment for the healing perhaps? As the other two loaded their questionable bounty, an old spoon, half of a shawl and one mitten to name only a few, Lionel couldn’t contain his excitement any longer.

“Who needs dogs when I think I can make the horses fly!” he exclaimed.

The response was woefully lacking. As a matter of fact there was quite a bit of sputtering.

* * *

Alex shook his head, trying to wrap his head around what Lionel had just said. “Um, isn’t it that kind of experimentation that got you in trouble in the first place?”

Lionel shook his head. “I wouldn’t use it. That’s where I got in trouble, trying to use intent, but developing specialty bloods, now that I can do with no harm.”

“I don’t know,” Alyssa said with a frown. “Doesn’t it go against the horses’ intent?

Lionel shook his head more vigorously. “The horses want to run fast. Really, really fast. All I am doing is giving them a boost.”

Alex still wasn’t sold. “That sounds like you are pushing the boundaries a bit much.”

“It will make their stride smoother.” Lionel coaxed.

Okay, Alex was starting to listen.

“Won’t it harm them?” Alyssa asked.

“No, if anything due to decreased friction and impact, it will actually help them,” Lionel insisted. “Come on, I can’t test it out but you guys can.”

The physicist extended his hand with a small vial. Alex still didn’t take it.

“Did I mention it will get us to the Northern Kingdom by sundown?”

Okay, now Lionel was talking Alex’s language. He snatched the vial from the physicist and mounted Mable. Lionel was right about one thing, the mare really did want to go fast. Just ask his tailbone.

“What do I do?” Alex asked.

“Get her up to a gallop, place a drop anywhere on her and say “Fly.”

From anyone else that would have sounded crazy, just downright crazy, but after everything Alex had seen over the past year? Nope, not crazy at all.

Despite his thighs complaining, Alex put his heels down in his stirrups and squeezed with this calves.

With a snort that said, “Finally,” Mable charged forward. They were at a gallop almost at the gate. Alex, hands shaking dribbled a little of the serum onto Mable’s back.

“Fly,”

And boy did she. Suddenly the jarring gait was smooth as a whisper. Her pounding hooves no longer made a sound. Mable seemed to enjoy the new sensation, putting her head forward, really turning the gas on.

Trees streaked by as Mable got about a foot off the ground, really pouring her heart into it.

Alex laughed as Alyssa caught up with him.

“Wahoo!”

He chuckled. “Yah, but who’s going to go back and get Lionel?”

CHAPTER 3

Lionel hadn’t been too fond of the whole horseback riding thing, but this flying horse thing, that he could get used to. And the horses really seemed to be stoked about it too.

And the best part, he wasn’t feeling a bit “descended.”

Score.

After hours and hours of snow banks and howling wind, there was finally some sign of civilization. There were four tall ice spires in the distance. The Ice Castle, or so Lionel assumed.

As the sun set, you could see fire within the ice castle flame to life. Ah, that looked warm. He might have to come up with some warming potion to go along with this flying potion.

There were always improvements to make.

“I think we better land!” Alex shouted over the wind. “We’ll have enough trouble explaining ourselves!”

Alyssa nodded, slowing her horse then landing at a walk. Alex followed suit. Lionel streaked past them since he couldn’t stop his horse.

“Land!” Alex shouted.

Lionel tried to slow Marigold first but she was just having too much fun so they landed at a near gallop, plowing into a snow bank.

The other two chuckled as they caught up with him.

“Might want to work on your horsemanship skills,” Alyssa stated.

Lionel didn’t retort since well, she was a DeadBlood princess.

“But it did get us here faster,” Lionel commented.

“You know it. Totally brilliant,” Alex said with a smile as they all headed toward the castle. There was a narrow path beaten through the high snow so they had to form a single line.

Therefore Lionel in the back, could not see what caused Alex’s reaction.

“Holy crap…”

* * *

Alyssa sat up in the stirrups to study the structure in front of her. It truly was an Ice Castle. It wasn’t a nickname or anything. The castle itself, the entire castle was made of ice. The ramparts. The gate, everything.

Therefore you could look within the castle as the last rays of sunlight pierced the ice. Despite how unusual the castle was, the sight inside was about what you would expect at this time of day.

Guards helped farmers inside the gates before they closed.

Alyssa pressed her legs against her stallion, hurrying him. Not only had they lost the speed of being on the fly. The snow was pretty heavy, even on the path and they were having a slow go of it. They needed to get inside the castle before sunset or they would be locked out all night.

With storm clouds brewing in the distance, that didn’t sound very fun to Alyssa.

A guard gave a shout, waving. Alyssa waved back, breathing a sigh of relief. She urged her steed into a trot. She glanced over her shoulder to find Alex bouncing atop his horse. If he was truly going to be a DeadBlood he really needed to figure out how to ride.

“What may I ask is your business at the Ice Castle?” the guard asked once they got within shouting distance.

Alyssa looked to Alex who slowed to a walk and didn’t look quite so absurd. He pulled out a parchment. It was from their King to this King of the North asking that he give Alex and his company an immediate audience.

The guard accepted the parchment and scanned it quickly. He snorted. As he passed the parchment over to a brightly clothed runner. “DeadBloods.”

Alyssa couldn’t tell if it was an insult or not. Apparently Lionel took it as a compliment and horned his way into it. “And a physicist!”

The guard frowned which most people did to the strange little man. Half of the time he spoke of things she did not understand nor wanted to.

The guard though waved them into the gates and through the small courtyard behind it. Another guard, in more finery than the gate guard motioned them deeper into the castle.

Inside the structure loomed even more majestically. It was disconcerting to just look into someone’s apartment. She could see women cooking. Men whittling. Children playing. She hoped at some point they had curtains. Otherwise this could get very uncomfortable.

The higher up into the castle, the more affluent the accommodations became. And yes, thankfully the use of drapery. The Royal chambers, like most Royal chambers were at the apex of the castle. The only objects higher were the ice spires that seemed to shoot straight into the sky.

As they walked no one seemed to give them much heed. Alyssa wondered if these people even knew what a DeadBlood was. They didn’t seem to recognize Alex and her leathers. Weird how quickly she accustomed to how most people perceived her.

Finally they arrived at the throne room’s entrance.

The court was sparsely attended this late in the day. The King seemed to be finishing up adjudicating for his citizens. Alyssa had seen it a thousand times before in her old home. She already felt safer knowing that this King took the time to hear his people’s problems himself rather than handing that task off to someone else.

A smile spread across his face as he rose to greet them. “So my friend to the south has sent help as I requested. I shall owe him for a few fortnights, I believe.”

He seemed glad to see them, however Alyssa wasn’t so sure for how long once Alex told them the true reason they were here.

* * *

Alex stepped forward. This was starting out on great terms, but he could only imagine the dungeon wasn’t far away if the King’s mood changed.

He bowed deeply, making sure the King knew he had his full respect. How funny life was. Just a few months ago, Alex couldn’t get up in front of his English class to give a book report and now he was having an audience with a King.

So freaking weird, but awesome. Perhaps this was easier because Alex actually knew the answers to this one. In English, talking about Shakespeare’s sonnets, not so much.

“You have come to rid us of our beast?” the King asked.

Alex cleared his throat before answering. “We are in luck, your liege. This physicist…” Alex indicated to Lionel. The King frowned. “This warlock,” Alex corrected. The King seemed to understand that phrase better. Alyssa agreed. Physicist had an odd ring to it. Warlock was much more true to his vocation. Pulling magic out of thin air.

The DeadBlood coughed into his fist. “This warlock has created a serum which can pull the corruption from a beast. Reverting the beast to human.”

The King frowned for a moment then let out a hardy laugh grabbing his great belly. “Oh, my Southerners,” the King chuckled. “Always with your sense of humor.”

Alex wasn’t quite sure what to do now. He turned to Alyssa. She had way more experience with court matters and Kings and such.

She stepped forward. “My liege this is not an amusement for you. The serum is in truth a miracle, which I have seen with my own eyes. We only won the battle for our kingdom because the beasts surrendered in exchange for reversion.”

The King’s smile fell. “This beast has taken most our livestock. Slaughtered entire herds.”

“But not yet killed a human?” Alex asked. He flinched at the glare the King gave him, but he stood his ground. If he could face down Tyr’s stare, he could face down any stare.

The King shook his head. Alex glanced to Alyssa. They shared a look. The fact that such a descended beast had not killed a person was a very, very, very good sign that he could be reverted. He clearly had some form of humanity within him.

“You do realize that he is a twelve foot tall polar bear with paws the size of large dogs. That my best hunters have been repelled five times from his cave?”

Alex nodded. “Vitalis himself was reverted, my liege.”

To that the King’s eyes dilated. “Vitalis. The beast who ravaged your Kingdom?”

“The same,” Alex answered.

“And he is in the dungeons then?”

Alyssa cleared her throat. “No, my sire, he chose to take his own life.”

The King grumbled something and sat back down on his throne. His chin resting in his hand.

By now the throne room was packed with people, from every walk of life. There were royal silks and peasants’ wool rubbing together to witness the King’s verdict.

Alyssa took another step up to the dais. “Let us at least try,” she begged. If he refuses we will not hesitate to use our swords.

“You two? You are baby DeadBloods sent to do a man’s job.”

Alex could feel Alyssa tense. It was just as insulting to him, but she seemed to be taking the brunt of the barb. In truth they were only supposed to come and recon the beast, but after riding a flying horse, Alex felt like they could do this. It was just one beast. He could revert one beast.

“Guys, guys,” Lionel said, stepping around them, pushing those thick glasses back up his nose. “You want the beast gone. We can make him gone and we are authorized to pay you back for all the livestock you have lost.”

The King tilted his head. “All?”

Alex had no idea. Neither the King nor Dyn said anything to him of the sort. Alyssa looked back to Alex, a question on her face as well.

“And you will take this beast man back south when you leave?”

Lionel nodded.

“Then it is decided. Go to this beast and do what you must.”

Lionel bowed, backing down the steps.

Soon the crush of people melted away now that all the excitement was over.

Now there was just work to be done.

* * *

Alyssa looked down at the sled. A dozen dogs eagerly awaited their departure. The King had insisted on loaning them the three sleds. He said that no horse could make it up there, because he didn’t know yet that horses could fly. So they were stuck.

Either they had to tell the King the truth, that they had used strong blood magic to make their horses fly, or they had to take the sleds. He was already a little unsettled with reverting beasts,

Rather than ruffle any more feathers, and risk the tentative bargain that was struck, they took the sleds.

Alex looked a little queasy and Lionel was trying to read while the dog handlers got the Huskies ready. This might not go well.

Then one of the handlers yelled, “Mush! Mush!” and the dogs took off. Alyssa had to grab hold of the sled with both hands to prevent falling out the back. The dogs were ready to run, straining at their harnesses.

They were not flying, but at times when they hit a mogul, Alyssa was airborne, then unfortunately the wooden vehicle would slam back down. It was jarring enough and there was four inches of fresh powder down.

Alex was out in front. He had the map, although it was pretty clear where the bear’s cave was. There was only one ridgeline on the barren tundra large enough to house a polar bear-beast.

Alyssa had never seen such a wide-open space before. Her world was broken up by hills and mountains and lakes. This, this was like a sheet of ice that went on forever.

“Look!” Lionel screamed, pointing down.

It took Alyssa a few moments to understand what she was seeing. Just beneath the ice, the polar bear-beast was tracking them. He was belly up, using his strong legs to grip the ice, hurling himself forward.

The hunters had become the hunted.

The lead dog on Alex’s sled screamed, plunging into the icy water.

The bear wasn’t just tracking them, but had laid a trap for them. Perhaps they should have listened to Dyn and just done recon.

Half of Alex’s dogs plunged into the water before he could stop the sled.

“Back!” Alex barked an edict so strong that Alyssa’s dogs began backing away. She didn’t stop them as she jumped from her sled and raced over to Alex’s, helping him pull the rest of the dogs out of the water.

The leather straps were cut through and the first few dogs were gone. Lost to the sea.

Then a huge black and white nose rose through the crack in the ice, snapping, trying to drag any dogs back down with it. Alyssa believed it was called a killer whale and with rows of huge sharp teeth, she could see why.

Even though they urged the dogs out of the way, the whale, which must have been enthralled, came up under the ice, shattering it, creating a crevice large enough for them all to fall into.

While Alyssa and Alex were busy trying to salvage the sleds, Lionel had his nose in a book. Again.

“Lionel!” Alyssa yelled, but the man paid her no heed. In just a few moments his sled would be lost as well.

* * *

Lionel ignored the hubbub around him. A few seals jumped out of the water and were chasing the dogs around. Alex and Alyssa were busy running and shouting unheeded edicts.

They really could be such drama queens.

He rummaged through his sack looking for the exact vials he needed. This wasn’t blood magic, this was something ancient. The Greeks were coming to the rescue, but when didn’t they?

He smashed the vials together and fire sprang from them. It burned a hot yellow with white sparks.

“Take this,” Lionel yelled over the mayhem. “Put it on their bodies.”

Neither Alex nor Alyssa asked what it was or what help it would be. They simply did as instructed.

Alex swiped a seal’s side, its mouth open attacking one of the dogs. It screamed an unholy scream, then slinked back into the ocean. Alyssa seemed buoyed by this and rushed the killer whale that was still knocking ice out from under their feet.

She hit the creature hard on the nose with the brand. The whale nearly breached itself completely out of the water, its mouth open, flailing, then it too sank back under the ice. Not reappearing again.

Alyssa turned to Lionel. “What magic was that?”

“It wasn’t magic, it was Greek Fire. It won’t kill them but it should smolder long enough for us to get out of here.”

The creatures were after all, thralls. It wasn’t their fault they attacked.

Alex looked west. The sky was now a bruised black as a storm rolled out over the ice. “We’d better get back.”

Alyssa indicated to their trashed sleds with half the dogs either killed or run off. “I don’t think we can.”

CHAPTER 4

Alex assessed the situation. It wasn’t great, but they had one option. “We need to get to the cave.” He pointed east. It was their only hope.

Then a roar, louder and filled with more hate than even Vitalis filled the air. He spun around to find the polar bear-beast standing on his back feet, towering over them all.

How the heck did a twelve-foot bear sneak up on you?

Alyssa was the first with her sword out, slashing and dancing back from the beast.

His fur was perfectly white and his nose and eyes perfectly black. If you didn’t know better you would have assumed it truly was a polar bear. But Alex knew better. A man still lies within that fur.

Alex stepped forward. “Stop!” It was a forceful edict, he could feel the intent leave his body in waves, but it did not slow the beast.

“We have come to help!” Alex shouted. “Alyssa!”

The DeadBlood looked over her shoulder at him. “Please, back away.”

He could see the struggle in her eyes. She got battle fever pretty badly. He could see her desire to fight. To draw blood. To punish.

“Please,” he said. It was by no means an edict, yet she sighed and took a step back. The polar bear-beast was obviously confused.

He landed on his front feet with a loud grunt. He snorted hot air that steamed in front of him.

Alex tentatively took a step forward. “Please, I can heal you. I can pull the corruption from your body and return you to human.”

The polar bear-beast cocked a head. “You lie,” he hissed through four-inch fangs.

“I do not,” Alex said. “As DeadBlood you know me to have great honor. I would not sully you nor I with such a cruel lie.”

The bear took a step forward. “Cured?”

Alex nodded. “Yes, with a new chance. The King pardons any who come forward to be reverted. You can start life anew in the South.”

The bear shook out his fur, spraying water in all directions. When he was finally done, he sat down on his rather large behind. “Pardoned?”

It seemed like this beast had descended pretty far and was having trouble taking in the human words and their meaning.

“Yes,” Alex said as he stepped right in front of him. “You can have your life back.”

He knew from the dozens of beasts he’d help revert that trust had to be established. If the beast didn’t respect him, then it wouldn’t allow its corruption to be bled. If he didn’t respect the beasts, then how could they respect him?

That had been perhaps the hardest out of all of this. Seeing the beast as a person worthy of respect. It was tough sometimes.

This guy though. He might have been stealing livestock, but to date he hadn’t killed anyone.

Alex removed the solution from his pack and opened the container, setting it on the ground.

“You just need to put a paw in and allow me to pull the corruption from you.”

Okay so it was a little bit more complicated than that. But no reason to confuse the already confused polar bear.

At first with trepidation, then with more surety, the bear put his paw into the solution.

Alex knelt next to the huge bear and put his hand into the solution. Laying his palm over the fur, he closed his eyes.

Another soul to redeem. Just another day on the job.

* * *

Alyssa watched in fascination as the gel went red and the beast’s fur began to recede. The only thing left really of the polar bear was the stark black nose and the ears. Pretty much otherwise the naked man was nearly human again.

Her King would be so proud. This was what the future held. A very different future than the one she dreamed of in childhood and all the better for it.

Just as the beast’s ears retracted, Alyssa heard the swish of an arrow. The head striking the beast right in the chest.

Blood sprayed Alex’s face.

Alyssa drew her weapon as another arrow flew and hit its mark. The man went down as a soldier draped in white camouflage drew a spear and buried it deep into the man’s belly.

“What did you do?” Alex asked, tears in his eyes as he rose.

The man was dead. His red blood soaking the white snow.

Alex grabbed one of the soldiers by the collar and pulled him up to nose level. “What did you do?”

“What we needed to,” the soldier said, not flinching.

“Why?”

“Because it was my King’s decision, not yours. He cannot be bribed to do what he thinks not best .”

Alex let the soldier go, then kicked over the gel. The clear substance poured over the ice, melting it.

Alyssa ran to Alex’s side. “We still have a storm to worry about.”

Although Alex seemed past caring. She’d seen him like this before. Leaching the corruption was an intimate ordeal. Especially during the procedure it was like Alex and the beast were one.

Then to have the man slaughtered in the middle of it. She was sure that he felt like he himself had taken those arrows.

Looking down at the man who had been saved from being a beast to dying moments later as a man, Alyssa feared this would be their future for a while. Hatred of beasts ran deeply. Deeply enough to risk war with another kingdom.

“I am so sorry,” Lionel said joining them. “The Northern King was never going to let us heal this beast.”

Alyssa put her hand on Alex’s arm. “There was nothing you could have done.”

“No,” Alex growled, his cheeks flushing red. “But I can now.”

He went to rush the guards as snow began to fall. Alyssa grabbed him firmly by the elbow, keeping him from fulfilling his angry statement. Dyn would kill her if she let him go.

“Alex,” she hissed, stomping on his foot to bring him back to reality. “We must be DeadBlood.”

Alex spit on the ground. “And DeadBloods settle scores.”

“Not here, they don’t,” Alyssa barked as the soldiers began pointing their weapons at Alyssa’s party.

A bright red light bloomed above them, for all the world sounding like a meat grinder as a body dropped from the sky. Hit the ice, bounced then rolled a few feet, finally coming to a stop.

What was this?

* * *

Alex, his anger forgotten rushed over to the body on the snow. Blood soaked through clothes. “Lionel! The HeartsBlood.”

Is this what he looked like when he came out of a portal? But this person seemed injured before they took to time travel.

He rolled the person over.

“No,” he whispered. It could not be.

Alyssa knelt beside him. “Salista?”

Only it wasn’t their age’s Salista. This Salista was much, much older. Her hair white with streaks of black. She wore the same crow’s feet that their mother had later in life.

“Salista?” he whispered, checking her for wounds. When he opened her jacket, her belly spilled out. Not even artificial HeartsBlood could cure this.

His older sister gripped his hand. “Alex, I found you.”

“Yes, now conserve your strength,” he said, trying to hold out hope. “Lionel!”

The physicist ran up, handing over the vial of artificial HeartsBlood. But Salista held up a weak hand. “Don’t waste it on me. You’re going to need it.”

She became too weak to speak, her head lolling over onto his arm.

This could not be happening.

No matter the odds, he pulled out the stopper from the vial and began to apply it to the grievous injuries.

“Hang in there, sis,” he whispered. The HeartsBlood was doing the best it could but blood still poured out of her belly.

Salista opened her eyes once again before they shut forever. “Save us, Alex. Save us all.”

Afterword

Thank you so much in indulging in my more wild, romantic side. I hope you enjoyed The Blood Magic Collection as much as I did writing it!

If you did enjoy the collection, I would ask you a big favor and have you go back to Amazon and please leave a review. Indie Authors live and die by their reviews!

I’d also like to ask that if you find any typos/errors to please contact me directly. Even though this and all of my books have been put through a gazillion rounds of edits, we are all just human. It really helps if you catch anything to email me at authormccray@aol.com

Want to know the exact moment anything of mine that is new goes live?

Sign up for updates from amazon itself on my author’s page (if you go there, could you hit the “like” button as well? Thanks!)…

Click on the "Stay Up to Date" link :-)

Thanks again for traveling through time with Tyr and Sal

If you would like to read more adventures with them, please email me. The only way DeadBlood and the rest got written was from encouragement from fans! Tyr and Sal’s fate rests in your hands!

Want more from thrills and romance from Carolyn? Check out the next section!

Other Works by Carolyn McCray

RACE TO THE ALTAR

This is Carolyn’s first fairy tale happy ending romance, but of course there is more than enough action and even a massive explosion, otherwise it wouldn’t be a McCray novel, would it?

Praise for the Race to the Altar series…

“A real page turner! Loved the characters and how they interacted. Sergio made me swoon just a little bit!”

Angela Watson

Amazon Reviewer

“Loved how this book made me feel like I was at the races. I had a boyfriend once who raced cars, this made me feel like I was reliving my own romance. Great writing! Made me feel there.”

Tonya Favro

Amazon Reviewer

“I had to admit I was a little worried about this “happy” ending. McCray does pathos so well I thought I would miss it. Boy was I wrong! I LOVED, LOVED, LOVED the ending, and of course, the whole book that led up to it!”

Nancy Paddy

Amazon Reviewer

“Race to the Altar is yet another wonderful book from Carolyn McCray. It's story line revolves around international race car driving.  I've never been into that, but I learned a lot from the story and was really interested to hear how it's all done.  That was just a bonus though. The story itself is great, our heroine is part of the driving team and she finds herself falling for her co-driver despite the fact that over the years of being on the team she's never really even liked him. She also happens to be involved with somebody else, who up until now she thought she would marry and spend her life with.  I thoroughly enjoyed the story, the will she won't we and of who she ends up with, and I especially enjoyed the happy ending.  Not saying what happens or who she decides she loves more, you will have to read it yourself to find out. It's a fast pace book, full of action and romance, and I would highly recommend it.”

DragonRoses

Amazon Book Reviewer

To purchase Race to the Altar just click here

* * *

Love is in the Air – A McCray romance collection

From the #1 bestselling Romance/Paranormal Romance/Contemporary Romance author Carolyn McCray comes a collection for all romance readers: Love is in the Air. It includes over 150,000 words from some of Carolyn’s bestselling romances novels.

You’ve already read HeartsBlood, but there are two other full-length (non-happy ending) novels, a novella and a short story, all for the price of one book!

Praise for McCray’s romances…

“Read all-each is totally different-she is my favorite writer-anything she writes is great-wish she would write sequels to these.”

McKinnley

Amazon Reviewer

“From Carolyn McCray comes a historical romance, Fated, that will leave you hoping that for once, fate will be kind. You will be gripped from the first page to the last, caught in a love that spans eons and an ancient political intrigue whose consequence still reverberates today. This is truly a masterpiece that stays with you long after you’ve turned the last page.”

Emma Gilbertson

The Writer Bites Back

The collection includes…

HeartsBlood

#1 Paranormal Romance/Urban Fantasy full-length thriller

Fated*exclusive to the collection

Torn apart by history. Bound for eternity. A historical full-length paranormal romance

Indian Moon*exclusive to the collection

The #1 full-length contemporary romance. Real romance for the rest of us.

Pet Whisperer…er…er…rrr

A delightful pet filled romantic comedy novella

My Dangerous Valentine

The prequel short story to Carolyn’s new thriller series, Spies in Stilettos

More Praise for Love is in the Air Collection

“I love this story…it’s so touching, beautiful & fulfilling. Thank you Ms. McCray for sharing such a beautiful love story.”

Luv2Read

Amazon Book Reviewer

“This is such a cute book. I love how Ms. McCray had me laughing out loud and at the same time, was able to touch my heart with a softer side. When I first met Wyatt, I connected with his sense of humor. I love the beginning scene where he and his uncle Bhodhi are talking about ‘chicks’. Too funny. The animals and their personalities make this book special, but the development of the main character and his relationship with family and friends touched my heart.”

The Book Goddess

Amazon Reviewer

To sample or purchase Love is in the Air, click here.

* * *

A Reader’s Feast –Something for everyone

From bestselling author Carolyn McCray comes an eclectic collection spanning the breadth of her career.

The perfect gift for that hard to buy for person!

“A few were something I wouldn't usually purchase but after reading I want more! Most authors cannot or have great difficulty branching into different genres and having main characters of all genders and identities. While reading I could place myself as each character and truly enjoy the adventures. I even felt myself connecting in the short pet stories! Wonderful!”

Norita Hiatt

Amazon Reviewer

The Reader’s Feast collection includes…

7 Fold of Winter*exclusive to the collection

A YA+ Epic Fantasy

The Rush

A prequel MoonRush short story

Rook

Let’s stop the apocalypse, people

Ambush

A 30 pieces of Silver prequel short story

Anatomy

A Plain Jane prequel short story

Pet Holiday Miracles

A short story collection of inspirational holiday Miracles

Pet Whisperer…er…rrr

Book 1 in the Animal’s Talk Back series

Hacked

An Encrypted prequel short story

More praise for The Reader’s Feast collection…

“Was a little skeptical, but decided to "buy" this boxed set through the kindle readers library for my January rental. It was well worth the time. I Thoroughly enjoyed the first story & am working my way through the rest. I would recommend this based on the first book alone, everything else is gravy.”

D. Angel

Amazon Reviewer

To sample or purchase A Reader’s Feast, click here.

About the Author

I started out like most authors. I had a story in my head that would not shut up! LOL!

Even Tyr wouldn’t let me sleep until I told his story.

Many people ask me about the character of Maria. She is such a powerful force in the story, yet she is only present in the first few pages.

This is one of those moments where real life seeps into the story. I lost a person near and dear to me early in life, yet not a day goes by that he doesn’t give me strength, so I tried to infuse that deep love and appreciation into Maria, and hopefully it paid off at the end.

If you want a second cycle to the Blood Magic Saga, let me know! The only reason that DeadBlood et al got written was because of fan demand! I also have several other darker paranormal romances rattling around in my head so let me know if you want me to let any of those out as well

Table of Contents

Praxis: The Blood Magic Saga Collection Praise Page

Main Menu

BLOOD OATH – The prequel short story to HeartsBlood

CHAPTER 1

HeartsBlood – The full-length novel that started it all!

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36

CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 38

CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 40

CHAPTER 41

CHAPTER 42

CHAPTER 43

CHAPTER 44

CHAPTER 45

CHAPTER 46

CHAPTER 47

CHAPTER 48

CHAPTER 49

CHAPTER 50

CHAPTER 51

CHAPTER 52

CHAPTER 53

CHAPTER 54

CHAPTER 55

CHAPTER 56

CHAPTER 57

CHAPTER 58

CHAPTER 59

CHAPTER 60

CHAPTER 61

CHAPTER 62

CHAPTER 63

CHAPTER 64

CHAPTER 65

CHAPTER 66

CHAPTER 67

CHAPTER 68

CHAPTER 69

CHAPTER 70

CHAPTER 71

CHAPTER 72

CHAPTER 73

CHAPTER 74

CHAPTER 75

CHAPTER 76

CHAPTER 77

CHAPTER 78

CHAPTER 79

CHAPTER 80

CHAPTER 81

CHAPTER 82

CHAPTER 83

CHAPTER 84

CHAPTER 85

CHAPTER 86

CHAPTER 87

CHAPTER 88

CHAPTER 89

CHAPTER 90

CHAPTER 91

CHAPTER 92

CHAPTER 93

CHAPTER 94

CHAPTER 95

CHAPTER 96

CHAPTER 97

CHAPTER 98

CHAPTER 99

CHAPTER 100

CHAPTER 101

CHAPTER 102

CHAPTER 103

CHAPTER 104

CHAPTER 105

CHAPTER 106

CHAPTER 107

CHAPTER 108

CHAPTER 109

CHAPTER 110

CHAPTER 111

CHAPTER 112

CHAPTER 113

CHAPTER 114

CHAPTER 115

CHAPTER 116

BLOOD TIES – The Bridge Short between HeartsBlood & DeadBlood

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

DEADBLOOD – The sequel to the #1 Paranormal Romance HeartsBlood

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

EPILOGUE

BLOOD LINES – the bridge short story between DeadBlood and LiveBlood

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

LIVEBLOOD – the stunning conclusion to the Blood Magic Saga

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

EPILOGUE

BLOOD LETTING – the “wrap-up” short story to the Blood Magic Saga

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

Afterword

RACE TO THE ALTAR

* * *

A Reader’s Feast –Something for everyone

About the Author

Contact Information

Copyright Information

Contact Information

Carolyn McCray can be found just about everywhere social media exists.

authormccray@aol.com

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Facebook

Subscribe to me at my Amazon Author’s page here for all my recent releases

Copyright Information

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, places, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Blood Magic Saga Collection

An Off Our Meds Project/published by arrangement with the author

Copyright 2013 by Carolyn McCray

All rights reserved

Kindle Edition

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Any inquiries can be made to:

3524 South Star Lake Rd

Auburn, WA 98001

authormccray@aol.com