The Vampire Gift 8: Shadows of Mist

“James!” Victoria screams.

With a start, I come to myself and realize what I’m doing. I have no idea how to close the chasm, but I know I can redirect the sparks. With a supreme effort, I force them away from the writhing vampire, forcing them to slam into one distant tank, the heat and blinding light of the sparks nearly consuming it.

The outburst of power keeps going and going, I don’t dare to close the chasm inside. I can feel it. For the first time ever I can feel where the magic is coming from, and I need as much exposure to it as I can get to understand how it works.

The power flows out from me, out from the void, and manifests itself in that shower of sparks. Form the corner of my eye I see Paul rising slowly, humbled by what happened.

I ignore all the vampires around me and focus entirely on the tank. So much heat is produced by the sparks that the metal is melting, yet there is no residual heat.

I walk toward the spot slowly, almost in a trance. My control of where the sparks are flowing is extremely tenuous. It’s almost like feeling the presence of a very weak vampire from far away and then trying to make him subject to you via the influence. Proximity to the spraying sparks does not make my connection to it any stronger.

I stop just a few feet away, the angry red flecks still raining down. I feel an affinity to them. The chasm inside me reacts to them. The chasm inside me bucks and roars, almost like a wild beast. For a few seconds, it tries to engulf me. My instincts immediately alert me to the danger. I fight it back.

The chasm rebels. It sends more power shooting out, doubling, tripling, quadrupling the strength of the sparks. I wrestle it down, willing it to be still, but it’s not so easy.

All of a sudden, it explodes, sending forth a great burst of power. The sparks converge to become a solid beam of destruction. It envelopes the tank, and in an instant, it’s gone, wiped entirely out of existence, burned from this world.

With the huge bang, the chasm closes. Magic is lost to me. I fall to my knees, gasping.

My whole body is shaking. Every part of me, from my fingertips to my toes, feels exhaustion of the sort I’ve never felt before. My eyes droop shut. The darkness is uniform. I swoon back and forth on my knees, barely able to hold my upper body upright.

Victoria skids to my side. She grasps my arms. “James!” she exclaims. “James, what happened, what did you do?”

I crack one eye open. The effort is almost more than I can bear. Victoria looks so beautiful, peering at me intently like that, concern marring her perfect features.

I bring a shaking hand up to her cheek. She clasps one of hers over it. A droopy smile plays on my lips.

“You love me,” I say dreamily. “Don’t you?”

“What?” she scowls, pulling away, as if she’s been singed.

That confirms it. “You do,” I say, and the weakness takes over, and I fall forward into her lap.

The world goes black.





Chapter Twenty-Five


James

Location Unknown.



I float in a sea of night, with nothing breaking up the monotony.

I feel my body, somewhere down there, very far away. My consciousness, my mind, is up here, calm and blissful, satiating in the absolute peace.

Slowly, I regain the feeling in my legs. My arms come next, then my torso. I feel my body calling out for me, beckoning for me to return to it and give it life.

I do not heed the call. There is a strange tranquility up here, a certain type of peace that I have never known before. The troubles of the world do not affect me. I exist in a state of perpetual nirvana, and I am in no hurry to leave.

So, time passes, my body calls out to me, and I remain happy to ignore the call. Far away in the distance, past the sea of black, I see a field of stars. I know they are too far away from me to reach. I know, somehow, instinctively, that if I go for them the connection to my physical body will be severed, perhaps will be lost, and I will be doomed to float in this realm forever.

I feel no discomfort at such an end. Everything is so nice here. No hunger, no ambitions, no pain. No thirst, no fear, no anger.

No life.

That thought startles me. With it comes a sudden torrent of despair. The despair builds, taking over, and in the dark shifts to fear. Fear becomes paranoia, and I suddenly need to get out, to escape, to rip my way out of this realm, lest I be lost here forever.

I scramble for the link to my body. But I am so weak. Desperation grips me. If I can’t find my way back…

But no, I refuse to give in to despair. Desperation is replaced by determination, and I claw my way back, little by little, forcing my spirit down to the body I know is below.

It’s difficult at first. Every time I grasp a link it seems to squirt out of my hands. But I will not give up; I will not simply fade into oblivion.

And so, little by little, I get closer and still closer, until an abrupt suction takes me and I’m suddenly throttled into my body and back to life.

I open my eyes and surge up with a gasp. My heart is racing. Adrenaline fills my veins.

I look around the room I am in, and I feel momentarily confused. I do not recognize the inside. I’m on a single bed in the middle of an oval space, all the walls made of thick, domineering concrete, with a single door across from me at the other side. The door is one giant circle, doubly reinforced with steel and God-knows-what else. It looks like the most menacing bank vault door one can imagine.

My head spins. I bring a hand to it. Where is everyone?

How long have I been here?

Then I notice the scorch marks on the walls. They alarm me. “What the hell?” I whisper.

I push the covers off of me and stagger to my feet. They are bare, and I can feel the cold floor. In fact, looking down at myself, I realize I am completely naked—and, for whatever reason, quite cold.

I wrap the blanket over my shoulders and shuffle to the nearest wall.

The burn marks are fresh. I touch a hand to them. Damn, they’re still warm!

I look around the room for a source, for anything that might have caused them.

There is nothing here but the bed. Then that means…

I shake my head, not liking the implication.

That means the fire came from me.

The handle on the vault door spins. I turn my head. My body follows.

The door opens, and Victoria runs inside.

She is on me before I can react. She throws her arms around me in a monstrous hug. When she pulls back, I notice her eyes are red.

“Have you been crying?” I ask.

She slaps me. Hard. Hard enough to whip my head to one side.

I scowl at her. “What was that— ”

She cuts me off by grabbing my head and kissing me. I’m too dumb to react. But I like it.

She lets go. I smirk. “If that’s your apology, I’ll take it.”

“Don’t make me hit you again,” she warns.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I swear. I take another look at her. Her hair is a mess, her clothes are wrinkled, and her eyes are definitely red.

“You’ve been worried about me,” I say.

She gives an incredulous laugh. “Worried? Worried doesn’t begin to describe it. Do you know how long you’ve been here? Do you know what we had to do to get you here?”

“Tell me,” I say, following that with, “What is this place?”

“A nuclear bunker, deep underground. Part of The Crusaders network beneath their compound.”

“Why am I here?”

“After you defended April, magic took hold of you. I’ve never seen anything like it. We already knew your ability is triggered by anger. But what you did there was incredible… horrifying. What do you remember?”

“The tank,” I say. “I destroyed the tank. Somehow, I redirected the power raging through me toward it. I felt a… chasm, open up, here.” I touch my chest. “Such power flowed out from it. I could guide it, direct it one way, but I had no control.”

“Yes,” she says. “And past that? What happened?”

“The chasm closed. I fell to my knees. You came to me. And then I passed out.”

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