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Measures of Vengeance: Agents of Karma, #2
Measures of Vengeance: Agents of Karma, #2
Measures of Vengeance: Agents of Karma, #2
Ebook547 pages8 hoursAgents of Karma

Measures of Vengeance: Agents of Karma, #2

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Save your loved ones or the world—what would you choose? 

 

With Armageddon on the brink, Pepper's father still hostage, and goddess Karma severely weakened, the Syndicate, led by original vampire Vlad Dracula, has moved on to the next phase of their plans. Even so, Pepper Li Bell is determined to rescue her father from the Syndicate's stronghold. But her plans are thwarted when a centuries-old prophecy is revealed that cautions of impending doom centered on the upcoming lunar eclipse and the last surviving Agent of Karma. Pepper and her allies must find the Agent before the Syndicate does.

 

As Vlad and his army of vampires and soul-sellers scour Earth and Hell for the Agent and Pepper, they force Pepper to run for her life, pushing her further from her father. With so many enemies closing in and nowhere left to hide, the weight of the world crashes on Pepper's shoulders. When she thinks she may crumble beneath the pressure, Pepper discovers Vlad's true intentions, including those reserved for her father and all of humanity. In the eleventh hour, Pepper must choose between rescuing those she loves and saving the world. But she might unearth something far more sinister.

 

Unfathomable power derives bone-chilling rewards. 

LanguageEnglish
Release dateFeb 14, 2023
ISBN9798985033137
Measures of Vengeance: Agents of Karma, #2
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    Measures of Vengeance - Kelly L. Marsh

    PREVIOUSLY IN KILL KARMA

    Have you noticed that the world has descended into madness, and the guilty are getting away with murder? Pepper observed that, too. And just like you, she clung to the hope that the guilty would get theirs one day. But that day never came. So, a few years back, she started a covert karma-for-hire business. Where there were cheaters, embezzlers, or anyone dodging the long arm of the law, Pepper was ready to uncover their dirty little secrets—for a fee, of course. And business was booming in her small Gulfside town of Naples, Florida. Ka-ching!

    Meet Pepper Li Bell, an eye-for-an-eye enthusiast, a soon-to-be seventeen-year-old, an only child to her beloved pops Larry, and a high school graduate. Except for a rap sheet a mile long and a judge sentencing her to house arrest, most of the world would deem her average, which is a fair assessment. Still, Pepper served her time and stayed out of trouble. Little did she know, trouble would find her on her birthday and turn her world upside down.

    Unbeknownst to Pepper, Karma isn’t a notion but the goddess of vengeance and justice who presides over Earth, watching all and sundry from her celestial perch in the aether. But Karma didn’t always have a firm grasp on her domain. Eons ago, unruly demons wreaked havoc on Earth, like starting wars and possessing humans without their permission (the nerve!). Eventually, things went from bad to worse, so a fed-up Karma extended an olive branch to Mephistopheles, the demon leading the charge. Yes, the Mephistopheles of legend, preeminent soul collector, a prince of Hell, sex personified to those with a pulse, and best friend to the King of Darkness, Lucifer. After much warring back and forth, the two reached an amicable agreement and drafted a peace treaty between Earth and Hell.

    As per the treaty, every soul contract that a demon peddles around Karma-ruled Earth must abide by a strict chain of custody that starts and ends with Mephistopheles. As for Karma’s end of the bargain, neither she nor her Agents can lay a finger on the soul-selling human, regardless of the crimes they committed on Earth. However, when a soul contract expires and mala’khas drag the human to the Pits of Tartarus in Hell, the damned fall under Karma’s jurisdiction. There, the goddess repays in kind each vile act her jailees committed Earthside. (Word on the street is that Karma is a genius regarding torture. Living artwork, some demons have called it.) Assisting the very busy Karma with keeping the cosmic Scales of Justice balanced are her Agents—a sisterhood of mages whose identities are shrouded in secrecy; they rid society of the most wicked.

    For millennia, Mephistopheles and Goddess Karma maintained law and order over Hell and Earth until now. A criminal organization called the Syndicate—run by Vlad Dracula, Ember the Firebird, and Cazzian (currently imprisoned in the Pits for selling his soul)—set their sights on serving that meddling bitch Karma her just deserts and then world domination. But a few things need to be done before deicide, like resurrecting Cazzian from Hell, which is an impossible feat that involves exploiting a soul contract loophole. Cazzian must convince millions of humans to sign an official soul contract containing Mephistopheles’ seal of approval at the stroke of midnight on All Hallows’ Eve. If he’s successful, then Lucifer will relinquish Cazzian’s soul. Challenge accepted.

    Mephistopheles was the first domino to fall, as the Syndicate needed to steal an ungodly amount of his soul contracts. Demons have no clue that the Mephistopheles they’ve been interacting with daily is a body-possessing wanderer aligned with the Syndicate.

    Every god has a weakness, and to kill a god, you must exploit that weakness. Unfortunately for Karma, the Syndicate discovered hers. On Vlad’s orders, the vampiric Hounds of Hell have been killing Karma’s Agents around the globe. As a result, Goddess Karma is severely hurt and missing in action. But before Karma disappears, she sends out a missive to Earth’s last hope—clueless, juvenile-delinquent Pepper, who does not know gods, magic, and otherworldly beings exist, let alone other dimensions. But she’s about to find out.

    The night before her seventeenth birthday, Pepper’s former childhood best friend, neighbor, and supreme jackhole Kimball Garcia spies Pepper sneaking out of her house and violating probation. As an early birthday gift, he blackmails her. Either Pepper proves his father, Shelly, killed his mother, Bunny, and summoned a demon to possess her body, or Kimball will send the oodles of compromising evidence he’s compiled against Pepper to her probation officer. Then to juvie, Pepper goes. Pepper reluctantly agrees to help prove Bunny’s murder. Still, she is convinced Kimball has lost his mind, is on a bender, or both.

    Pepper and Kimball don’t know that the Syndicate moved their headquarters to Naples and is recruiting members for their end game. Two such members are Kimball’s father, Shelly, and Miles Leagan, a serial killer who terrorized the streets of Naples until the police apprehended him. A jury found Miles not guilty, regardless of the mountain of evidence against him. And he can thank the Syndicate for getting him off scot-free, but it came at a hefty price.

    Like many others around the globe, Miles sold his soul to the Syndicate, Shelly Garcia included. In return, Miles could commit any crime with impunity while avoiding Karma’s wrath and eternal damnation in Hell. To further sweeten the deal, Miles and all the others before him were granted the ability to wield magic, which, until now, was impossible for lowlies and vampires alike. But somehow, the Syndicate manifested the unfathomable, which involved draining mages of their blood. (It should come as no surprise that murder-enthusiast Miles volunteered to track down the mages.) To the shock of no one, the Syndicate’s numbers have snowballed, with a vast regiment of soul-sellers around the globe at their disposal.

    With their plans to resurrect Cazzian from Hell a foregone conclusion and Mephistopheles and Karma dealt with, all that remains to secure the Syndicate’s stronghold over Earth is finding Cazzian’s archenemy, Pepper Li, the last remaining Li sister, who fell off the face of the earth twelve years ago. Poor Pepper. If only she knew the hell barreling her way.

    On her seventeenth birthday, Pepper receives a curious letter from an anonymous sender. But they sure know Pepper, for inside the envelope is an invitation mentioning how they’ve been observing Pepper for some time. And because of her innate ability to exact vengeance, Karma and the Nine cordially invite her to attend the prestigious Karma Academy to be trained to become an Agent of Karma. Should Pepper accept, explicit instructions follow, involving an incantation to open a chaosgate to the Academy. Demonic possessions, Goddess Karma, and now magic—they didn’t exist. But that didn’t stop her from reciting the spell, which ended up not working.

    While investigating a lead on the murder case at a marina, things take a turn for the worse when Pepper visits the last man to have seen Bunny Garcia alive. Unfortunately, he isn’t much help with obtaining answers, what with a poisonous dart puncturing his jugular. His killer, Sawyer van Arsdale, a double-crossing Agent of Karma who works for the Syndicate, decides eyewitness Pepper is a loose end that needs cutting and begins tossing powerful magic her way. It was a miracle that Pepper made it out of the marina alive.

    Pepper soon discovers that her life is a lie, all the mythical and supernatural legends truly exist, and magic is real. Pepper was once a mage herself and had an older sister to boot, Jaylyn. But she has no recollection of her past. And for good reason. Twelve years earlier, she and her sister struck an eleventh-hour deal with a demonic fixer named Bhi’gow and his capuchin, ruachti companion Loki. Pepper and her sister paid for the fixer’s services by selling their magic. Unfortunately, Jaylyn died on Bhi’gow’s watch. In a last-ditch attempt to save Pepper’s life, Bhi’gow stole Pepper’s memories to protect her. Since then, a spell has cloaked Pepper from the Syndicate’s sight, but that spell expired on her seventeenth birthday.

    Determined to find the demon and ruachti who stole her magic and memories, Pepper accepts the help of an enigmatic soul broker named Jhi, who conveniently runs into Pepper when she needs him the most. He vows to protect her from Sawyer and the Hounds of Hell—all hot on her heels—if Pepper helps him with a dire matter. Jhi’s co-worker, JD, went missing while investigating a case of missing soul contracts taken from the Ministry of Mischief and Mayhem under Jhi’s boss’ nose—boss as in Mephistopheles—and his search for JD led Jhi directly to Pepper. Jhi believes Pepper is somehow connected to JD and needs Pepper’s help to find his friend. With her life on the line, Pepper agrees to the quid pro quo.

    Pepper and Jhi travel to Pandaemonia, a bustling metropolis in Hell populated by demons and other terrifying creatures. Once there, she gains new friends, Loki and Perrin. Along the way, they unravel the Syndicate’s nefarious plans, including Cazzian’s resurrection from the Pits and his intention to exact revenge on the last sister Li standing. This vendetta began in another life—a life erased from Pepper’s memory. And after Cazzian assumes Karma’s mantle of judge, jury, and executioner, he plans on destroying Pepper once and for all.

    But Karma might have gotten her last laugh yet. Another sister Li lives—Jaylyn, aka JD. Though her life’s in peril for the Ven-ad’tsay is hunting her—Jhi. He adopted the cover of a harmless soul broker looking for his dear friend JD. Unfortunately, he lost JD’s scent at the Tenth Circle Tavern in Hell, an establishment linked to the same demon that stole Pepper’s magic and memories. But now Jhi has a new lead—Pepper, and little does Pepper know she is leading Jhi right to her sister. Too bad Pepper’s developing an incurable malady—an unrequited crush on Jhi, her feelings strengthening by the day, which is what Jhi was hoping for.

    Back in Naples, all is revealed at the All Hallows’ Eve masquerade ball, where Pepper spectacularly fails at stopping Cazzian’s resurrection. Now that Cazzian is immortal, his army of the damned and corrupted humans legion, he should have no problem wiping out the Agents of Karma line forever. Then, in short order, he will assassinate Goddess Karma, which leaves the last remaining sister Li to contend with—all part of the prophecy to establish a New World Order where the damned call the shots from here on out.

    Just when Pepper thought her night couldn’t get any worse, she suffered a soul-crushing betrayal at the hands of Jhi. In a shocking twist, Jhi turns on Pepper and her motley gang and joins the Syndicate’s ranks. And since Jhi knows Jaylyn’s alive but in hiding, it’s only a matter of time until Cazzian does, too.

    Pepper and her motley crew escape the masquerade ball bloodbath, where terrifying mala’kha slaughter most soul-sellers around the globe. Still, Cazzian reveals he has Pepper’s father. And Pepper has Kimball to thank for that. Shelly blackmailed his son Kimball by threatening to destroy Bunny’s soul if Kimball didn’t help the Syndicate by turning over that which means the world to Pepper. So Kimball did just that to save his mother’s life. That heart-squeezing, soul-crushing revelation that her father’s life hangs in the balance destroys Pepper and sets her aflame. A mystical fire born of roiling rage consumes her, and when the flames extinguish, a new Pepper steps out of the chrysalis. With that, an Agent of Karma is born.

    A dying Karma materializes and delivers a grim warning: Armageddon is all Pepper’s doing, and it’s up to her to end it. This is Pepper’s final chance at redemption. Karma then issues marching orders to her new Agent. Pepper must find one of the last remaining Agents of Karma, who is unaware that Jhi and Miles Leagan are hunting her down to kill her. Find the Agent, and she’ll lead Pepper to her long-lost sister.

    Time’s running out. Faced with an impossible decision, either Pepper rescues her dad, who’s her everything, or saves Goddess Karma, her sister, Beatrice, and the world. Pepper chooses all the above. It’s now a race against Jhi and Miles Leagan to find this Agent.

    As for Jhi, Pepper is counting the days until she exacts sweet revenge on that no-good, lying, rotten bastard. Sleep with one eye open, Jhi, for Hell hath no fury than a Pepper scorned.

    1

    Six months ago

    Howling winds tore through the vast caves like laser missiles on their sole mission to destroy the man who dared to spoil the sanctity of the Caves of Altira’me-tum. And they were almost successful in their assignment; they nearly knocked Jhi off the miles-high stone pillar he artfully balanced upon.

    Annoyed, Jhi stood back up in defiance of the wind, rooting the heels of his boots further into the summit’s craggy terrain, and trumpeted, That all you got?

    C’mon, Jhi! I’m trying to get you outta there, and you’re not exactly helping matters, Friday huffed through Jhi’s earpiece.

    Slender rock formations taller than the skyscrapers in Pandæmonia dotted the caves and traveled to infinity in every direction. Some were higher than others, a few dangerously low, but the crests of them all were barely big enough to house a body.

    As Jhi surveyed the dank and dimly lit death trap to determine his next course of action, he made the mistake of looking down. His head spun, and his body swayed dangerously close to the pillar’s edge. The silt and stones knocked off by his unsteady feet had yet to reach the bottom.

    By the grace of Seren, Jhi regained his balance and crouched down. That was too close, he said jokingly, his voice echoing about. You still there, Friday?

    Sure am, said Jhi’s jinn partner. And from the sound of it, you’re screwed.

    Your concern is truly palpable.

    Jhi was in the midst of trial number three out of who knew how many. He barely survived the last one when he went toe-to-toe with a furious lu’kowsa with no weapons or magic at his disposal, which amounted to him dodging the dragon’s fireballs, swinging barbed-wire tail, and snapping snout. Good times! Oh, but the fun didn’t end there. With no visible points of entry, just endless slime-coated walls, part of the trial was figuring out how to escape the lu’kowsa’s underwater lair as it slowly filled with water.

    This current trial tested Jhi’s strength, dexterity, and, if he was being honest, his patience, which was about to flatline. There’s no way I can make the jump to the next pillar.

    Can you move in another direction? Friday replied.

    Yeah, but— A loud rumbling shook the caves. Uh, Friday—Jhi glanced over his shoulder—we got a problem. I can’t backtrack. The pillar behind me is a pile of crumbs on the non-existent ground. The same pillar he had been on moments before.

    The rumblings intensified, and the upright pillars in the distance trembled in response until they, too, began collapsing like dominos. Beads of sweat sprouted on Jhi’s forehead as the only way out of the gods-forsaken cave dismantled before his eyes.

    Feel free to chime in here, buddy. Anytime. Jhi’s voice jumped an octave.

    It’s not like I have a handy reference book on the Caves of Altira’me-tum at my disposal, jam-packed with tips and tricks. Just let me mull this over for a second. Panic set up shop within the usually unruffled jinn.

    Sure, by all means. Take a breather. It’s not like I’m going anywhere. A loud burst of wind in the distance stormed through the caves like Goddess Karma’s wrath, hellbent on destroying the intruder. And Friday, hurry up! The wind’s coming again.

    Jhi didn’t scare easily. He was a trained killer, the storied Ven-ad’tsay—the hunter of whatever his overlords desired. Only one thing set his teeth on edge, and that was falling into a pit of nothingness, trapped and lost and alone, with no way out. Walking through chaosgates unnerved him for that very reason. So, looking down and not seeing ground—a case of the willies broke out. Jhi never shared his greatest fear, and would never express it out loud, not to anyone, and for good reason. Never let others know your weakness or your enemies will exploit it.

    Thankfully, Jhi set out on this expedition of sorts with Friday. Well, technically, Friday was back in Pandæmonia—the lucky bastard—but happily, the enchanted two-way com-device in Jhi’s ear still worked, thanks to Goddess Seren. Right about now, Jhi could use all the goddess’ good luck and fortune.

    From this point, Jhi had made quite a few jumps and was now out of options, what with the pillars crumbling around him like a soul-seller’s body after a mala’kha came a-reaping. He couldn’t even see the finish line. To be fair, the finish line had never presented itself in the previous trials, so why stop now?

    As the tornadic winds fast approached, Jhi dipped down again and held on for dear life. The stormy winds knocked off his well-worn beanie, blew back his chestnut hair, and pressed against his chest with all its might, his Henley ruffling behind his back. But Jhi held firm to the edge, his fingers white-knuckling the craggy sides. Then the wind stopped abruptly and retreated, most likely thinking up another plan of attack.

    So, you can’t jump anywhere? Friday asked.

    Affirmative. It’s about ten soulcars in length between me and the pillar up ahead. You can forget left or right. They’re dust. Same for the ones behind me. And before you ask, climbing down isn’t an option.

    Why? What’s down below?

    Good question, Friday. I’m not sure. It’s too far for me to make out. Also, there might not even be a bottom. Jhi could feel his face blanch from fright from just voicing that possibility.

    Magic still a no-go?

    It sure is, buddy. This realm forbade magic—something Jhi had learned during trial number one.

    Caves of Altira’me-tum, Friday said, more like a thought. Roughly translated to Caves of Nightmares—

    Friday? Come in, Friday. You there?

    Nothing but static responded.

    Dammit! Jhi removed the earpiece, then took a breather by sitting down cross-legged. Wow, didn’t think I’d go out like this. Until today, Jhi had been in his fair share of perilous situations, including encountering the lu’kowsa. But these caves offering no chance of escape took the cake.

    Jhi had to reach the end of this quest; he had to retrieve the relic. Death wasn’t an option. It wasn’t an out. Not for Jhi. Death, for Jhi, meant something far worse than beings could imagine.

    Goddess Seren, Jhi said to the empty air. "I could really use your help. I know I’ve done a few horrible things. Okay, fine. There’s been more than a few. I’ve killed some beings, or a lot of beings, actually. But they deserved it. Sure, I’ve broken hearts, but the girls cursed me in return, so doesn’t that even out? You can’t force love, right? He chuckled, thinking it ridiculous that he confessed his sins to a goddess who probably couldn’t care less. Anyways, I have a proposition for you. If you help me out, I’ll pay it forward and give a helping hand to a poor bastard, one much like myself, who’s nearing the end of their rope. Sound like a deal?"

    Everlasting silence pervaded.

    Seren, you there? Jhi’s echo was all that kept him company. I’m losing my mind.

    Jhi knew his efforts at praying and offering his blood as a sacrifice to Goddess Seren might prove fruitless, but it was worth a shot. In a last-ditch effort, he sliced his palm on a jagged-edge rock and used his blood to trace an intricate pattern in the air, his index finger elegantly twisting and turning, a single dot here, three horizontal slashes there, a triangle and an interlocking whorl.

    A few minutes passed, and Jhi sighed.

    And then the air crackled. Before Jhi, Seren’s sigil materialized, glowed fiercely, and mushroomed in size. Then it popped out of sight.

    A feeling within Jhi gave rise to a clear-cut voice inside his mind that told him to do the most ludicrous thing imaginable, second to bargaining with a demon. Jump! the voice said.

    Nah. I’m good, Jhi replied.

    Jump now!

    Still good.

    Jump before the wind returns and knocks you off the pillar; otherwise, you are a dead man!

    The wind snarled and shot his way.

    Jhi, about ready to vomit, his heart pounding, his body quivering, let loose a few unsavory curse words, then leaped off the edge.

    Free falling, his arms pinwheeling, eyes stinging from the frigid air piercing them, he landed with a soft thump on the silty ground.

    Grunting, he pulled himself to his feet and immediately spotted what he had quested for—Yad Id’danos, roughly translated to the Hand of Destiny, thought to be a legend. But there it was. A mystical golden glow limned the sacred relic that rested on a dais in the middle of a temple. And it was all Jhi’s.

    Jhi laughed. He couldn’t believe he had made it, that he had found it. That ten feet stood between him and his freedom—

    A whirling noise served as a prelude to a chaosgate materializing and the door of a rukba gliding open.

    No! No-no-no-no! Jhi bit his lip while considering his next course of action. What if it was another trial? The ultimate test? And he had to fight whoever or whatever stepped out?

    He hid in a shadowy corner of the temple to size up his enemy before striking, then quickly traced a defense sigil on the floor to act as a trap, but it remained inert. The elements continued to ignore his commands, and magic gems proved useless. Perhaps there was something here he could use as a weapon. Still, they wouldn’t see what was coming—Jhi!

    A girl stepped out of the elevator—a human girl from the looks of it.

    Oh, come on! Jhi thought, pissed off, bloodied, and bruised. He had tried countless times to open chaosgates during his earlier trials, to no avail.

    When the girl came into focus, Jhi immediately thought, Hello, goddess, her striking beauty taking him aback. It was hard not to appreciate all five-foot-whatever of her, that slight frame, her form-fitting jeans, tight sweater, and perky breasts.

    When she made a beeline for the Hand of Destiny, Jhi snapped out of his trance. Well played, gods! Then he stormed to the relic, beating her—the ultimate test?—to the punch.

    Jhi swiped the relic before the girl could. Not so fast. I don’t know how you did what you just did—he waved his finger toward the waiting rukba—but this is mine.

    Her sultry, whiskey-hued eyes opened wide with shock. I—I wasn’t expecting you. She seemed thunderstruck. Then stammered more to herself, This surprise wasn’t foreseen.

    Same thing my mother said when she found out she was pregnant with me. Let’s just say she was none too pleased, just like you, sweetheart. Listen—

    Don’t call me sweetheart, she said measuredly.

    No? What should I call you? Jhi fished.

    The girl who killed you.

    Quite the firecracker, she was—a quality that immensely appealed to Jhi. Look, we obviously came for the same thing.

    Yes. But only one of us will chaosnaut out of here alive. And that would be me.

    Whoa, now. That sounds awfully murdery. Let’s talk about this. Maybe we can strike a deal. Jhi’s first deal with Seren worked, so perhaps he was on a role. What can I offer you? Name it, and it’s yours.

    Nothing. You don’t understand. I need the Hand of Destiny.

    She rushed toward Jhi, but he dodged her lunge. Oh, I understand. I need it, too, or I’m a dead man.

    That response seemed to resonate with her. But it was short-lived. I don’t want to kill you, but I will if I have to.

    Dear Seren, the girl was serious.

    She stepped back as if retreating, then hooked a loose tendril of her long, caramel hair behind her ear while biting her bottom lip, her long lashes fluttering.

    Jhi asked, Can I at least know the name of the most beautiful woman to have graced my presence? He wasn’t above using charm as a tactic.

    JD. And yours?

    Jhi.

    She let out a cute giggle. Rhymes with die.

    Jhi cocked his head and said, I guess you could say that, then searched the area frantically for anything he could use for self-defense.

    JD produced a fiery whip fashioned from the elements, cracked it, and knocked Jhi off his feet. When his head banged into the limestone and smarted something fierce, JD grabbed the Hand of Destiny from his grasp.

    While hovering above Jhi, she said, If it’s any consolation, this is about something bigger than you or I— Blood-curdling, soul-quaking wails sounded from nowhere and everywhere. JD’s pupils dilated. She whipped her head about, then returned her focus to Jhi, intimate knowledge written all over her face, which bespoke danger. I’m sorry. JD sprinted to the chaosgate.

    Sorry, for whaaa— The stench of death and decay assaulted Jhi’s nostrils, and he nearly vomited. He quickly recalled just what that stench heralded.

    Banshee-like shrieks pierced the airwaves, and Jhi clasped his hands over his ears to halt any bleeding. Wraiths—they were everywhere. Crawling out of the crevices, corners, and ceiling, their trajectory split between Jhi and JD. Their skin, taken from their prey and shoddily stitched together, formed a mockery of a body. Melted faces and hollowed-out eyes filled with hellfire, they carried spectral swords used for piercing souls in their bony hands.

    Wraiths were the zombies of Hell dimensions, the haunters of the Spirit Realm, one-track minds that smelled fear and fed on flesh. But they needed souls desperately to keep a firm footing on the ground, to remain somewhat whole, doomed to live their lives forever on the hunt. And if you were one of the unlucky ones to cross their path, your odds of survival were slim to none.

    Hurriedly, JD uncorked a vial and tossed its bloody contents into the air. A wraith picked up the scent of her fear and zipped through the air, closing the distance between it and JD. Right as the ghoulish phantom extended its cold, undead talons, its flesh-tearing nails touching JD’s arm, the chaosgate fired into existence.

    The second the rukba doors glided open, JD hopped inside the waiting elevator. In her haste to escape, the vial must have slipped from her fingers. Jhi heard it ping to the ground and roll to a dark corner.

    JD cursed her mistake, popped her head out of the rukba, and gave a cursory search for the vial. But a wraith thwarted her attempt to grab the glass container. Though visibly irked, she tossed a smile and a wave goodbye to Jhi right as a wraith pinned him down, and others piled on top of him in a feeding frenzy.

    2

    Present day: 12:49 p.m., October 31

    W oo-wee! Even Lucifer’s sweatin’ tonight, BB’s mother, Eloise, shouted from inside the house, clanging pots and pans and the sizzling of oil in a frying pan accompanying her bellyaching. As Shi’rue would have it, the overtaxed AC had coughed out its last bits of chilled air on the hottest night on record. Though all the windows were open and ceiling fans spun their little hearts out, nothing could beat the stifling heat.

    On the verge of dying from heatstroke, BB plucked up The Bellowers’ glossy resting tableside, highlighting the latest news around the dimensions. After folding it over, she fanned herself, hoping to dry the sweat dripping down her back, neck, and deep brown chest, wetting her tank top. While trying to cool off, BB got lost contemplating her next plan of attack until a snapping and cracking sounded in the woods in the distance, like footsteps on broken twigs and pine needles.

    BB shot to her feet and placed her hands in a defensive pose, prepared to summon the elements in what would shortly be the fight of her life, for the Hounds of Hell had tracked her down and most likely surrounded her house. She swept her eyes past the Jeep and vintage pickup truck parked on the gravel driveway to the woods surrounding her family’s homestead, seeking out the vampires.

    When a fluffle of rabbits exited the copse of trees and hopped toward the vegetables in the bountiful garden, her shoulders dropped, and her rolling heart slowed down as she fell into the rocking chair. Regardless of how many times this jump scare event had occurred today, she reacted the same way, mainly because the odds of the bloodsuckers finding her were not in her favor. She would have grabbed the spiked beverage on the tray by her feet to calm her rattled nerves, but she couldn’t afford to go off script.

    A few kits jumped into a pile of leaves and sent them scattering. That annoyance prompted the teenager to return to her chores. BB muttered under her breath in the elemental language of Air—that would sound like a whispered curse to a lowlie—then raised her pointer finger and wrote a string of glyphs. The once invisible intricate shapes and symbols sprung to life, pulsated a vibrant bluish-green for a few seconds, then dissipated.

    Following BB’s written commands, the rake tossed on the lawn levitated and dragged across the grass, gathering crinkly leaves, clay soil, and other detritus into piles. Zephyrs of summoned Air took the shape of giant hands and then scooped up the vegetation into trash bags—a task that would have taken hours if not for magic.

    While the element continued with the lawn work, the rake floating to another area of the yard, the garbage bag trailing behind, the teenager drank up the transient amber hues of twilight before night took the reins. BB marveled at how everything stilled at dusk, like a captured photo, even more so in the wilds of Georgia. It was so deceptive, the feeling of comfort and safety this moment in time brought—a summer night spent with her family.

    If only this were real and not the terrifying danger that awaited her outside. While most kids BB’s age looked forward to dressing up and celebrating Halloween later at various costume parties around Dillard, BB was doing everything in her power to keep her and her sister Josie alive.

    Mama’s gonna whoop your behind. Josie joined BB on the front porch, the screened door slamming behind her. Wafts of hickory smoke commingling with other barbecue deliciousness trailed after BB’s older sister, taunting BB’s grumbling belly.

    "Busy Bee, what did I say about using magic? Put that rake down now, young lady, and pick up the leaves with your hands!"

    But Mama—

    Don’t ‘but Mama’ me. I want the yard work done before supper. You hear me?

    Yes, ma’am. The words just spit out of BB’s mouth of their own accord. Then she whispered to her sister, I swear Mama magicked eyes in the back of her head. You can’t convince me otherwise.

    Or she secreted an All-Seeing Eye on the porch somewhere. The girls giggled in unison, then stopped, giving the comment consideration, and darted their eyes around the verandah.

    BB lifted a mirrored serving tray off the wood floor and passed the drugged alcoholic beverage to her sister. Then BB yelped in fright when she caught her reflection—the thirteen-year-old version of herself stared back, not her true nineteen-year-old self.

    Josie grabbed the drink right before the tray slipped from BB’s shaky hands and crashed to the ground.

    Afraid she somehow had interrupted Josie’s memory that had been playing on a loop all Halloween morning, BB remained as still as a frightened opossum. After a few seconds, she side-eyed her sister to check if she had noticed something was awry. But when Josie sipped her spiked lemonade, her other hand playing with the frayed edges of her jean shorts, and rested her head on the rocking chair, BB breathed a sigh of relief.

    The night seems to never end. Josie’s spindly fingers dug into her black shoulder-length hair to satisfy an itch on her scalp. I feel like there’s something I’m supposed to do. That something isn’t right.

    BB’s heart juddered, as Josie’s comment was off script. BB had to check if the memory-trapping potion she’d slipped into the cocktail had run its course earlier than expected, which was what BB feared. And if her hunch was correct, BB had a short window of time before her sister realized the truth—that the events that played out weren’t reality but a long-ago memory BB had stolen from Josie before imprisoning her sister in the memory locked within a chaospocket.

    When BB attempted to grab the tumbler glass from Josie—the same action she had performed years ago—Josie swatted away her hands and said, Not so fast. Try again in another two years. When you’re legal.

    She’s supposed to say eight years, BB thought, her heart revving. And all morning, I had stolen a sip of the spiked lemonade just as my thirteen-year-old self had done years ago until now.

    Blessed Hekate! Is that my Josie, I hear? Ketteline’s reedy voice called out from inside the house.

    Yes, Gran. Your favorite granddaughter’s back home. Josie tossed a companionable wink at BB as she dashed inside the house, the slamming screen door further agitating BB’s shot-to-hell nerves.

    Ketteline shuffled carefully down the staircase, her hand gliding down the railing. Oh, dear! she exclaimed as she nearly lost her balance because of the shaky handrail.

    Be careful, Mother! As Eloise raced out of the kitchen, a whoosh of wind in the form of a giant hand proceeded her and immediately stopped Ketteline from crashing onto her well-cushioned tush and helped her back to her feet. I’ve been meanin’ to tighten the screws. The newel post’s too shaky for its own good, said Eloise, Helping Hand spellcaster, talented chef, widow, and single mother to two daughters.

    Ketteline canted her head as she paused on the starter step, then slightly nodded as if conversing with the unseen. With her silver, wiry hair whipped up in a bun, BB’s grandma donned her usual muumuu that did nothing in the way of hiding her plump belly. But Ketteline couldn’t care less. At my age, who am I trying to impress? she’d tell her grandkids whenever they tried to update her wardrobe. The average lowlie wouldn’t guess Ketteline was ancient years old. But like anything, the years had caught up to her, as evidenced by her achy joints and tender hips.

    A ghost of a smile touched Ketteline’s lips, and to her daughter, she said, No need to go messin’ with things, Eloise. One day somethin’s a nuisance, the next a blessin’ in disguise. The Budreaus knew to not ask follow-up questions to the matriarch’s cryptic statements.

    When Ketteline’s slippered feet landed in the living room, her favorite granddaughter, Josie, fiercely hugged her. Ketteline’s soft gray eyes, framed by the slightest crinkling of wrinkles, narrowed as she inspected her firstborn grandchild, whom she hadn’t seen in quite a while.

    Nothin’ but bones. We gotta fatten you up, like your gran. Ketteline patted her pudgy belly. Now go back out with your sister. I’m gonna help your mama with supper.

    Unlike Beatrice, Josie favored the maternal side of the family and was the spitting image of Ketteline when she was Josie’s age—fine-boned and pole-thin, whereas Beatrice had more of an athletic build. Josie clocked in a few inches taller than Beatrice’s five-foot-five frame and had piercing gray eyes to Beatrice’s brown and amber skin to Beatrice’s milk chocolate.

    After Josie returned to the porch and fell into the rocking chair, BB said, Joes—

    "Joes? Is that extra syllable in my nickname too exhaustin’ for you to say?" Josie half-joshed.

    Yep. As is this conversation. Do you know how much time we’ve wasted already?

    You’re growin’ up on me way too fast. Josie shook her head and smiled.

    Pshaw. What I was about to say before you interrupted is that right outta the blue, Gran started preparin’ for your return yesterday. Told Mama and me to get your room ready.

    Explains why no one seemed surprised when I showed up. Yet Gran didn’t return my amulet or other necromancy tools.

    Well, between you and me, I think Gran’s butt-hurt she won’t be crowning you as the archOmega.

    Josie sighed. I wouldn’t want that burden. Besides, the last thing I wanted to do was to embark on the Trials of Hekate.

    BB had undergone her own trials, ones far more deadly—knowledge that remained a secret to this day.

    Who’s to say I would have won? Josie smirked.

    Puh-lease. Don’t even try to deny it. You had it in the bag, just like Gran and her great-great-grandmother before that. So, you not assuming the role is kinda a big deal.

    Who’s side are you on, little sis?

    I’m just sayin’. I understand Gran’s disappointment is all.

    You don’t understand what it’s like to have carried that heavy burden since you were born, said Josie. You were the lucky one, always free to do whatever you wanted. Not me. Others planned my life out, dictating what I would do, when, where, with whom. What about what I wanted?

    Normal’s overrated. Besides, you left and abandoned magic.

    No other choice. It’s not like you’d be my replacement, and trust me, I asked. But Gran nixed the idea of you being picked to undergo the Trials of Hekate. Said it didn’t align with your destiny and left it at that. Josie noted BB’s raised brow. Didn’t know that, did you?

    Tiny electrical impulses of shock coursed over BB’s skin from that family-secret revelation, regardless of how many times she’d heard Josie speak about it today. Unfortunately, Ketteline died before BB could ask how her gran knew what Goddess Seren had in store for BB.

    You were allowed to be a kid, BB, and still are. Not me, though. Even before my unCloaking, Gran trained me in the ways of magic, and I had to spend countless hours reading boring books on the history of the gods, magecraft, magical laws in other dimensions, and take exams—Ugh. I just wanted to live according to my own rules. To not have responsibilities that others forced on me.

    Yeah, and how’d that turn out for you? BB could feel her younger self, or rather the body she had slipped into as part of the memory-trapping spell, attempt to tap into Josie’s energy, a skill younger BB would hone to perfection in a few short years.

    Hey, I felt that. Stop tryin’ to sneak a peek inside my mind, Josie said.

    Not like I saw anything. You locked your memories up real tight.

    Now, what was I saying? Oh, yeah. What happened with Jagger will never happen again. You live, you learn. Bad boys are officially out of my system. Before BB could interject, Josie quickly added, Things turned out how they were supposed to. I never wanted that responsibility of archOmega. But Ellie May did. She always dreamed of wearing the crown, so I’m happy for her. Besides, who the heck wants to live as long as Gran, anyway? The girls shared a weak laugh.

    But then Josie’s laughing ceased, and her rocking stilled. No longer in a relaxed position, she sat up, her back ramrod straight, and swiveled her head slowly in BB’s direction. Her eyes morphed from gray to emerald green and bored into BB’s soul. So much so that a chill snaked down BB’s spine. Then, in a voice not her own, Josie uttered, On the third night, the dragon devours the moon, and all the planets watch from the sky, the gods secretly assemble on the mighty mountain of Bel, and time slowly dies.

    Fright gripped BB’s thumping heart and squeezed tightly. Through quivering lips, she managed to stay on track and choked out robotically, You at least gonna join Gran at the Summer Solstice coronation ceremony in Miami? Ellie May will be the youngest archOmega ever to wear the crown. Supposedly, Goddess Hekate will be in attendance.

    But Josie remained corpse-still, except for her eyes—those probed every inch of BB. At that moment, BB’s heart sped into action, her chest rapidly rising and falling, wondering what version of BB Josie could see—memory BB or real BB.

    While the tense moment lingered, BB tried to whip up an escape plan.

    In a snap, Josie’s eyes changed back to gray, and she returned to her usual self, as if whatever had possessed her body vacated, then said casually, Nah. I’ll skip going to Miami.

    BB gave serious thought to fleeing the porch but couldn’t. She had to stick to the memory script. I’m still shocked that Goddess Hekate let Gran go just like that, her closest confidant for over a century. She still had a few good years left in her.

    That’s where you’re wrong. Gran told Hekate she wanted to retire from her position of archOmega, Josie

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