Page 20 of Bedrest Blues & Otherworldly Clues (Mystical Midlife in Maine #17)

T he late afternoon sunlight slashed through my bedroom window like golden daggers.

It cast shadows that stretched like grasping fingers across the worn floorboards.

Every muscle in my body screamed in protest from hours of enforced stillness.

The triplets had finally settled after their magical explosion—the one where Nyssa had somehow channeled her power through our connection to Aidon and Stella.

Thank all the gods above and below for small mercies.

I couldn't shake the image of that shadow creature attacking Stella—the way it had moved like oil over water, unnaturally fluid and utterly wrong.

If Nyssa hadn't found a way to channel her freaky baby magic through our connection to Aidon, my best friend would be worm food. The thought made my stomach heave.

Nina had passed out in the armchair by the window, her mouth slightly open, one arm dangling toward the floor. Her face looked weirdly peaceful despite the shitstorm we were living through. I envied her ability to sleep through the apocalypse like it was a boring Tuesday .

"You look like hell froze over, defrosted, then froze again," I greeted him.

He attempted a smile that faltered before it reached his eyes. "You should see the other guy." His voice was sandpaper rough.

"The other guy being ancient books and endless research?"

"They're barely holding it together." He dragged a chair beside the bed, the legs screeching against the floor. "I found something." The weight in his voice made my heart stutter.

I shifted against my pillows, wincing as the babies stirred inside me. They rolled and stretched like they were doing underwater aerobics. "Hit me with it before I die of suspense."

Jean-Marc carefully opened the tome, revealing cryptic text in a script that looked like drunken spiders had danced across the page.

The yellowed parchment crackled ominously.

"This text mentions a 'willing sacrifice' requirement to complete the ritual.

" His finger traced lines I couldn't begin to decipher.

"What kind of sacrifice?" My mind raced with possibilities, none of them good. "Please tell me it's something easy like 'sacrifice your favorite chocolate bar' and not 'sacrifice your firstborn’."

"It's not specific but suggests someone intimately connected to a Pleiades witch must serve as a conduit." His expression darkened. "Someone like me, Mom, or Nina."

The information churned my already sensitive stomach. It wasn't surprising that Lyra needed one of my family members—the bitch had always been predictable in her evil schemes. It was the methods she would use to force the "willing" part that turned my blood to ice water.

A violent crash from downstairs interrupted our conversation, sounding like someone had taken a wrecking ball to the living room.

Jean-Marc sprang up instantly, magic crackling around his fingers like electric blue lightning as Nina jolted awake with a snort.

"What the actual hell was that?" she asked, disoriented, hair sticking up on one side.

Another crash answered her, followed by shouting that sounded distinctly like Selene cursing in three different languages. My heart hammered against my ribs as I struggled to heave myself up. The triplets protested immediately, sending a wave of nausea through me.

"Stay here," Jean-Marc commanded, moving toward the door, magic pulsing visibly around him. "I'll investigate."

Before he reached it, the door flew open with enough force to dent the wall behind it.

Stella stumbled in looking like she'd gone ten rounds with a meat grinder and lost spectacularly.

Her shoulder was bandaged with what looked suspiciously like a torn t-shirt, blood seeping through the makeshift dressing.

Her clothes were shredded and splattered with something black and viscous that smelled like rotten eggs.

Aidon followed right behind her, his normally perfect appearance marred by a nasty gash across his cheek that leaked golden ichor.

"They tracked us," Stella gasped, slamming the door and leaning against it like she expected something to burst through any second. "Corrupted nature spirits followed us from town! There are dozens of them waiting out there, and they're pissed."

"What? How?" I demanded, fear sharpening my voice to a blade.

"We stopped for supplies," Stella explained, wincing as Nina helped her to a chair.

A fresh bloom of red spread across the makeshift bandage.

"Everything seemed normal at first. Boring small-town America at its finest. Then we noticed something off about the trees in the park.

They were... watching us." Her voice dropped.

"Trees aren't supposed to have eyes, Phoebe. "

"Before we could react, they transformed," Aidon continued, his voice the calm eye in our hurricane of panic. "Dryads, sylphs, even water spirits from the fountain. All corrupted, their natural forms twisted into nightmares. They attacked as one, like they shared a hive mind."

"We barely got away," Stella added, grimacing as Nina prodded at her wound. "Ow! Watch it, would you? Selene, Tseki, and Murtagh are handling them with the shifters. But there are so many... and they keep coming."

Another explosion rocked the house, this one so powerful the windows rattled in their frames and dust rained from the ceiling. The babies stirred restlessly, their magic pulsing uncomfortably against my organs like someone was playing kickball with my insides.

"The corrupted spirits said others are turning," Stella continued, voice breaking. "Lyra's infection is spreading through supernatural communities everywhere. Beings once peaceful are becoming violent. It's like a magical zombie apocalypse out there."

The bedroom door crashed open again, and Nana rushed in, silver hair wild around her face like a storm cloud, clutching her shotgun lovingly against her chest. The barrel gleamed with runes that definitely weren't factory standard.

" We've got company," she announced cheerfully, looking far too excited for a woman her age. "And they're not the friendly kind."

"How many?" Aidon asked, shadows gathering around him like loyal pets.

"Enough that I'm using the good ammunition," Nana replied, patting her shotgun affectionately. "The stuff with blessed silver and phoenix ash." Her eyes glittered with unholy glee. "Hades just arrived with news. And honey, it ain't pretty."

As if summoned by his name, Hades materialized in a swirl of darkness that dropped the room temperature ten degrees.

Frost formed on the window panes, and our breath clouded in front of our faces.

"The supernatural world is fracturing," he announced without preamble, his voice like gravel being crushed.

"Lyra's promise of power redistribution has found eager ears.

Ancient beings marginalized by the current order see her as a liberating force. " His mouth twisted bitterly. "Idiots."

"And what about your dysfunctional family on Olympus?" I asked, dreading the answer but needing to know. "Are they planning to get off their immortal asses and help, or are they too busy screwing each other over—literally and figuratively?"

"Divided," Hades admitted, shadows deepening around him.

"Zeus sees this as a mortal matter beneath his concern.

Athena and Ares recognize the threat but disagree on how to address it.

The others are... hesitant to intervene directly.

" His eyes flashed with barely contained rage.

"Politics. Even at the end of the world. "

"Basically, we're on our own," I said flatly. "Shocking."

"Not entirely." Hades's power flared briefly, causing the lights to flicker and die.

"Those who understand what's at stake will stand with you.

" In the sudden darkness, his eyes glowed like embers.

"I have seen many civilizations rise and fall, many gods come and go.

But this..." He shook his head. "This threatens everything. "

Without warning, a blinding pain lanced through my skull like someone had driven an ice pick straight into my brain. Another vision seized me, more intense than any before. I dimly heard someone scream and realized it was me.

I was standing before blood-soaked stone altars beneath a crimson moon that hung bloated and malevolent in the sky.

Lyra stood triumphant at the center of an enormous ritual circle.

Her skin crawled with luminous sigils as stolen power transformed her body into something no longer human.

Her laughter cut through the chaos, high and broken.

Through it all, I heard my babies' terrified wails as tendrils of light drained from their tiny bodies into Lyra's outstretched hands.

The scene shifted violently, reality tearing like wet paper.

The ritual imploded, a devastating shockwave expanding outward faster than thought.

Cities crumbled to dust. Supernatural beings howled in agony as they were consumed by otherworldly flames.

Trees blackened and fell. Rivers dried to cracked mud. All life withered in an instant.

Before I could process this horror, another vision crashed over me.

Lyra screamed as power beyond her control tore holes between worlds—jagged wounds in reality itself.

Through these wounds, the Forgotten Ones came—ancient horrors slithering into our dimension, devouring everything they touched.

Their forms defied comprehension, all teeth and eyes and hunger.

"Phoebe!" Aidon was at my side instantly, his cool hands cradling my face. His touch anchored me to reality as the visions receded. "What did you see?" His voice was taut with worry .

"Every possible ending," I whispered, my voice raw from screaming. My mouth tasted of copper and salt. "All apocalyptic. If Lyra succeeds even partially, the consequences are catastrophic. End of everything catastrophic."