Not that I had voiced any questions at the time.
Still, Reck’s actions might have seemed unpredictable in the moment, but I don’t doubt each move he makes is thoroughly calculated. He’s as untrustworthy as his two dead agents — and even more so than the cu-sith with whom he shares a soul. Except for the fierce loyalty he shows when it comes to his youngest sibling, Presh.
Someone knew that Rought and Rath were heading toward us, chasing after us.
Someone knew what it would take to neutralize a celestial dragon and a gryphon, even if only to bring them to ground but not mortally wound them.
That someone will also be ready for the cu-sith, unpredictable or not.
And me?
The universe doesn’t want me here, in this moment, at all.
The shadow churns, widening. It stretches, energy writhing and snapping.
Reck gives up being gentle, bodily shoving Presh into the back passenger seat. He darts forward to grab DeVille by the arm, dragging him back to the SUV. “Get the fuck inside with Presh. The SUV has protections against —”
I lose the rest of his words as the shadow energy yawns wide open. The invisible edges of that energy press against me, momentarily dampening my senses as the core expands into a seething maw of twisted power. It’s about the width and height of a double-wide doorway, but with rounded edges.
A portal.
I’ve never seen or sensed the like.
A few of my awry ancestors could create and pass through essence-anchored doorways, as can at least one of my living relatives. Usually over short, line-of-sight distances, or to previously marked or established locations. But when those portals were open or connected together, I could see through them to the anchor point.
This portal is a whirling vortex of malignantly tainted energy. My eyes, my head, ache just looking at it.
As if it’s simply wrong, foreign. Not natural to this world.
“Oh, fuck,” Bellamy whimpers. Then she claps her hand over her mouth as if to swallow any further fear. As if fear isn’t something she can indulge in. Maybe ever. Or maybe not when faced with whatever is about to step through that portal.
Even I’m silently terrified.
Not enough to run, though.
Bellamy presses up onto her hands and knees, then settles back on her heels, clearly winded by even that small adjustment.
“This was all a fucking trap?” Reck snarls at his newly discovered sister as he shoves DeVille into the SUV. The younger shifter doesn’t appear to be fighting him. “Or are we just bait to draw him here?”
“Can you say no to him?” Bellamy asks, weary. But she’s resolute as she slowly gains her footing to stand beside me.
Ignoring their squabbling, I beckon for Muta. The bushmaster has already anticipated me. In an invisible snap of energy, the death god trapped in the body of a snake disappears from where he was sunning himself, only to reappear settled around my shoulders.
Two berserkers in full transformation step through the portal, each easily seven feet tall in their half-human, half-beast forms, covered in patchy fur and with jagged fangs and sickle claws. Practically immortal, invulnerable to steel and fire — but utterly unhinged, even deranged. Berserkers are shifters who have been twisted by the consumption of human flesh. Most packs put them down. They’re usually utterly rabid and a danger to everyone, even their packmates.
The last berserker I came face-to-face with was something else, though. Something other, something more. Breaker. He could talk, even reason.
Presh implied that Bellamy had a hand in creating the berserkers with that ‘something more,’ but I hadn’t gotten any details about the how from the source herself. Except I’m fairly certain that corrupted evolution is tied to drinking the blood of one of the awry. Or more specifically, consuming the essence intrinsic to the blood of an awry such as Bellamy.
The two berserkers have what looks like essence-plated armor strapped across their chests and necks, compensating for what little vulnerability they have. Snarling, they both bite at the air as if reacting to the malignant essence that fueled their transportation. But they don’t lunge for us. They don’t attack. Instead, they step to either side like proper bodyguards capable of following commands, clearing the way for the next two, then the next two berserkers to emerge from the portal.
The six berserkers stand arrayed across from us, shuffling and snarling — all completely uncharacteristically. Whether solo or as a group, berserkers do not play nice with other berserkers. But these ones simply wait, eyeing us but not outright attacking even though they clearly want to.
Are they … are they being controlled with some sort of psychic leash? I glance at Bellamy, but I can’t feel her exerting any kind of influence on them. She looks as thrown as I am that they aren’t charging across the pavement for us.
All the hair on the back of my neck prickles. Not only is something very, very off about the nature of the portal and the nature of these berserkers, but the universe — the energy that usually offers me anywhere from little presses of intent to full-on dragging me where it wills — hasn’t chimed in with an opinion about any of it.
I actually haven’t sensed the universe’s presence since the final time it half-heartedly tried to move me away from Reck. Though it felt as though it spoke through me when directing Presh about her essence-wielding, indicating that she needed to remove Bellamy’s damaged life force, her essence, to begin healing her.
