Dark Destiny (47 page)

Jared’s eyes shifted to Morose.

“Yes, Master.” He bowed his head and took a step back.

The Reaper’s gaze darted to the leader of the horde. Alarm bells rang throughout his body, heartbeat pounding rapidly in his temples. Somehow, the monster managed to get his hands on Makayla. He stood directly behind her, one rotten hand clenching her shoulder. One side of his lips curled with icy contempt. In the blink of an eye, Morose wrapped his arm around her neck.

She inhaled sharply.

“Morose, stop!” the Reaper yelled, his arm extended, palm face up. Her eyes begged him to save her. He was so stupid. If he hadn’t been so rattled by the visions, by her memories and his actions, they would have been gone by now.

Morose arched a sly brow. “Do you wish to offer an exchange?”

“What do you want?”

“You know . . .” Morose jutted his chin. “You want this one back? Fine. Then give me another Soul from the Light.”

The Reaper’s body stiffened. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Can’t or won’t?” asked Morose.

“Both,” the Reaper answered.

“I thought not.” Makayla gasped then slumped forward onto the dirt ground. Morose wore a warped smile, his eyes gleaming with delight. In his hand rested Makayla’s Soul. Her body quickly withered away into a mist and vanished.

“No!”

Morose held Makayla’s Soul gently, but his fingers twitched with anticipation. Sebastian took a few steps toward him and warned, “Don’t you even think about it! If you do it, I will kill you where you stand!”

The Master’s fingers held firm. “Kill me you say?”

“Give me the Soul
now
. Or else.”

“Or else?” Morose chided. “I don’t think I like your tone.”

“I’m not playing games with you.” His tone was like the cold of a grave. “Put the Soul down. Now.”

Morose raised his eyebrows. “Orders now. Tell me something, why don’t you just teleport over here and cut my arm off. The thought must have crossed your mind.”

Another step forward. “If I teleport over there, it won’t be your arm I take.”

“You cannot stop me. This is my destiny.” He waved the Soul around.

“Give me the Soul. I will not ask again.”

“You must understand, you cannot stop destiny. You’re living proof of that. You have fulfilled your purpose. Now it’s time to fulfill mine. Can’t you see that?”

“I can see you’re a . . .” Sebastian began, but stopped. He almost said
raving idiot
, but he’d held his tongue. He had to stay calm. “This is a no win situation for you,” Sebastian said, his words measured, deliberate. “If you absorb that Soul, there won’t be anything stopping me from cutting you down. I will reap your Soul and shatter it after.”

The Master gave the Reaper a cocky wink, his smile maddening. “I’ll take my chances.”

He slammed Makayla’s Soul into his chest. White mist exploded out, circling Morose like a tornado. Round and round circled the mist, becoming darker and darker, grey to black. It spread out from Morose faster and faster, rising up to the grey sky overhead, twisting and turning like a cyclone. From within the cyclone, purple lightning crackled, roaring like a beast being released from a cage.

In front of the Reaper, two bright white lights shone through the black swirling clouds. The Reaper stood in shock, not knowing what to do. One light drew the other one closer to it, closer and closer, touching now, until they became one, one light absorbing the other. The sky above clapped with thunder.

The Reaper
blinked
forward but was thrown back by a swirl of black clouds. This black cyclone must be some sort of cocoon protecting whatever was inside. The Reaper stood aside helpless as he gazed up at the swirling vortex, purple lightning crackling within. He knew he’d seen this before, on the night Sara had died . . . but she hadn’t died. Had she?

This swirling black cloud? This was what had awakened the dark power within him.

His gaze traveled to the horde, hundreds of zombies spread out over the cemetery. They stood still, impassive to the situation. His gaze fell upon Jared who seemed lost at what was going on.

Rage boiled. Anger consumed him.

“You did this!” Sebastian
blinked
over to Jared, his face crimson with fury. His hand pressed hard on Jared’s chest. Jared’s eyes widened as he was shoved back onto the dirt ground.

The ground parted. Sebastian knelt on top of him. He ground his teeth and pushed his former friend farther into a grave.

“Sebastian,” Jared whispered.

“No!” the Reaper barked. “You brought her here! N—now, sh—she’s—”

His hand shook with anger and he felt his power—the power of Life and Death—channeling through his body, from his chest, down his arm, to the hand that sat poised over Jared’s warped soul. His hand pulsed with power and he knew he didn’t have to reach inside Jared’s chest to destroy his Soul. All he’d have to do was allow his Dark Power to flow into this Shade.

A Shade.

That’s all he was.

Sebastian didn’t know him anymore. This thing was not his friend.

The energy flowed. Jared’s eyes turned black. His skin cracked and flaked, turning zombie-like, before fading to a dull white. The brilliant Shade tattoos faded. Jared exhaled, mist expelling from his body. The black swirling vortex still screamed behind them.

Sebastian
, came the Elder’s calm voice over the cacophony of thunder.

“Shut. Up,” the Reaper ordered.

The Elder did so.

Somehow, Jared found his words.

“I hope you brought some lipstick,” he said through ragged breaths. “Because you can kiss my a
—
”

Sebastian closed his eyes and pressed his energy further into Jared. Something surrounded Jared’s Soul, a darkness. A smoky cloud of chains wrapped around it.

The Reaper growled. “That settles it. There’s no saving you.”

This had to be the right thing to do.

He had to kill Jared.

From somewhere deep inside, deep below the chains and the darkness, Jared found the energy to shift his blackening eyes. Their eyes met. Jared’s words echoed in the back of his mind.
‘I hope you brought some lipstick . . .I hope you . . . Hope.

Sebastian was startled for a moment. He didn’t see an evil Shade. What he saw was Hope. His Hope. Jared’s twin sister. The Hope who had always been there for him, the Hope who had always loved him, even as she pretended not to, even as he’d fawned over Sara. He saw, on Jared’s face, the look of horror that Hope would wear when she learned about Jared’s death. Sebastian saw her crying day after day, endlessly, over her lost brother. He saw her eyes when she’d look at Sebastian, asking why.
Why?

He gazed at Jared’s whitened face and saw a sad and angry boy, a boy who had been his best friend for years, a boy who’d defended him, even loved him as a brother. A boy whom Hope
needed
. Waves of remorse washed though Sebastian. The muscles on his face no longer tight. His hand fell away from Jared’s chest. He took a deep breath as his own voice reverberated in the recesses of his mind,
Hope, I swear. As God is my witness, your brother will be home tonight. Alive and well
.

With his power still inside Jared’s Soul, the Reaper gave a simple command:

“Live.”

The word flowed into Jared, ringing in both his mind and his Soul. Purgatorium ripples erupted from Jared’s body and spread in all directions lighting up the ground with a soft blue hue. The last vestiges of the Shade in his hands melted away, Jared’s Soul slipped back into the world he’d been born in.

You did the right thing. That darkness you found in Jared’s Soul belonged to the Master. Jared was not in control of his own actions.

“I didn’t do it for him,” Sebastian said quietly.

The roar of the Master’s transformation ceased. The swirl of black mist cleared and standing calmly where the vortex had been was no longer a sickly, greasy zombie, but what the Reaper understood to be a newly born Seal. He wore a black suit with gold pinstripes, and on his head, a matching fedora. Around his arm was a band with seven strange symbols. Six of them were lit, glowing a brilliant scarlet, one more so than the others. The seventh symbol was dull and grey.

The earth rumbled beneath Sebastian’s feet and many of the zombies stumbled and fell to the ground. A crimson light engulfed the cemetery, and Sebastian glanced up to the dark sky. The moon, which had not been visible in Purgatorium before, loomed overhead. Not a sphere of silver or gold, but a blood red orb hung above them. The zombies crawling along the ground shrieked and moaned in fear, diving behind tombstones in a vain attempt to seek shelter.

“Is it possible to get her Soul back?” he spoke, so only the Elder could hear.

Yes. If you kill the Seal, her Soul will be free.

There was some hope, at least. “Sounds good to me.”

He’d brought her into this and it was his responsibility to get her out of it, to send her back to the Light where she’d be safe, where the boy who loved her waited.

He reached for his weapon, which appeared in his hand. There was no black and purple fire; it was just there. His mind and body were poised, ready for combat.

Seals were supposed to be some of the most powerful, supernatural creatures in existence. It was time to find out just how strong they really were.

Makayla’s Soul depended on it.

Wednesday, 8:24 am (Purgatorium)

The blood red moon cast an eerie glow over the cemetery, making it seem  that the whole world was on fire. The ground trembled, tombstones and mausoleum walls tumbled to the dirt or shattered on other stones. The graveyard was packed with Souls. Some had brought lawn chairs and chose places to settle in. Others moved about, clambering over one another, craning their zombie necks to see the excitement, their heads bobbing up and down. The more decayed zombies had glowing white eyes, piercing the red hue. Cheers and shouts filled the air. One zombie appeared to be taking bets. The horde extended into the streets outside the cemetery’s torn and rusted gate.

Morose, who hadn’t moved since his transformation, spoke. “Interesting,” he murmured, his eyebrows furrowed.

He seemed to inspect his newly refreshed hand. Gone was the zombified look. His skin had become smooth and youthful. Now that he looked alive, Sebastian could see that Morose wasn’t terribly old, not much more than thirty perhaps, and his skin was olive-toned, as though he had Italian heritage. The stench of decay no longer surrounded him, replaced instead by the smell of expensive cologne. Morose’s gaze traveled to his opposite arm, and he opened and closed his palm in wonderment.

“Amazing,” he paused. “This is how I appeared before I
—
”

“Enjoy the new body while you can,” the Reaper called out. “Because you’re not going to have it much longer.”

Morose turned to the Reaper. He seemed rather puzzled about the whole situation. “Is it you that I have to thank for this?”

The Reaper blinked. “Are you
high
?”

A deep befuddled expression fell upon Morose’s face. He cocked his head and rolled his glazed-over eyes to the sky.

I suggest that now would be the best opportunity to strike. He’s still processing everything. Although we can’t be sure of what his Gifts are, the quicker you end this, the better. At least before backup arrives.

“Back up?” Sebastian asked.

Before the Elder could respond, a small red flame appeared close by, a few inches off the ground. It grew quickly, red lightning snapping and crackling within it.

Yes backup. The Seals are coming. If he steps through that portal, there will be no way to get to him.

“Understood,” he said, and he
blinked
forward with an overhand strike. As he came out of his
blink
just inches from Morose, he met with an invisible force that propelled him back. Landing on his feet, a glimmer of light from what he bounced off of faded away.

“He has a shield or something,” Sebastian said.

I’ve analyzed it. In its current state, you can break through it. But you need to hurry. His power level is rising at an intense rate.

The Reaper nodded. “On it.”

As he braced himself to
blink
again, a female voice echoed throughout the graveyard.

The word “Stop,” floated through the air and tickled his ears.

Pain flared in his arms and gradually spread throughout his entire body. He was unable to move. His whole body leaned forward, his scythe stuck in both hands.

You’re lucky. I have experience with this Gift. Negating the pain effect now.

The pain subsided. Only he was still frozen, as though he had been encased in a block of cement. No matter how hard he tried, or how vigorously he commanded his limbs to move, they would not obey. His eyes were the only thing he could control.

“What. Is. This?”

One of Cleo’s gifts is complete control over any male creature. But Sebastian, you are stronger than she is. Stronger than all of them. Push the command out of your system and take charge. If you don’t show them your power, they will never respect you. I recommend showing them. They have been ruling this land for far too long. These Souls are counting on you.