Page 22

T he OneCreator unfolded from a high-backed chair and shot to his feet, pissed at the interruption and his assassin’s tone. “Excuse me?” He waved off the Scourges who had gathered around him with one petition or another.

Harmony escorted them out the door but returned to stand beside him, a palm on his shoulder.

When he’d arrived earlier and seen her, loneliness had shoved into his heart. Briefly, he’d entertained thoughts of bedding her. Instead, with a sigh, he’d said, “The fiery ardor we once had is gone. What is left is enough, a friendship. But it is not what it once was.”

She’d faced him, an angelic smile spreading on her lips. “True. We are older. Perhaps wiser. Too many millennia. Too many occurrences. What we have is good and welcome, though.”

“It is.”

Harmony, though she had chosen to remain here, had been in Angor too long. As always, he’d begged her to return to Vast.

She refused his plea again, sauntering to him, rising onto her toes, and kissing his lips. “You are the most magnificent male in existence, and I always want you. I’m just not what I once was. You are not what you once were.”

He had nodded. Lately, the great burden of emptiness weighed on him. He was alone in the galaxy, in OneWorld. Chaos had chosen extinction for both himself and Kalia, the female he and his brother had loved and shared on many occasions.

She had given them much. Those pieces of her were treasured, though often difficult to manage. Then Kalia became the first Scourge among Immortals. Blaming himself, Chaos released a deadly spark, obliterating them both rather than allow the ailment to exist.

But it had been too late. The malady had spread to other Immortals, not like an infectious disease. No . It was as if it had been planted in their collective DNA, seeking life, waiting for an opportunity to attack. Ultimately, Chaos’s selfless act was for naught.

And the OneCreator’s sisters were gone. He was alone, despondent, and at odds with his existence. He had looked forward to a visit with Harmony to cheer him up. So far it hadn’t.

Enough with dwelling on the past. He turned his attention to the Feard and the human who accompanied them.

Interesting .

The OneCreator flopped back onto his chair, frowning at Dom while he rearranged his purple velvet robe, smoothing the wrinkles. Harmony remained at his side, a calming influence, while the human stared at him, star-struck. He realized he was an imposing figure, his purple eyes brightening at her adoration. Aah, vanity.

The human clasped a hand to her heart, which pounded as he radiated energy so intense she fought crashing to her knees in front of him.

Dom interrupted the pleasant moment, the other assassins at his back. “I pathed you.”

He folded arms across his chest and slumped into his chair, having decided to let Dom live despite his impertinence. “What’d I say?”

“Busy.”

“Seems as if I answered the question. That should be enough. Don’t bore me, asshole. And I caution you to watch your tone.” His eyes flicked elsewhere. “Indigo, hey, girl.”

“Right back at you, O magical one.”

Ohngel threw a possessive arm around Indigo. “There is more.”

The OneCreator cocked his head to the side. “There certainly is, like this human still in OneWorld. Shouldn’t she be on Earth by now?”

Dom answered. “I’ve told you how I rescued her. Now—wait for it—Madeline’s showing signs of being a Scourge.”

“Who’s Madeline?”

The human raised her hand. “I am.”

He angled forward, Harmony’s nails digging into his shoulder, cautioning him to tamp down his power. “You don’t say.” He stroked his chin, studying the human. The glow in his eyes changed from anger at Dom’s mouthing off to a bright light. “Come here, child.” He beckoned Madeline to approach.

When she did, he took her face between his hands and smiled. “I should have known this.”

“No shit,” said Dom, Madeline returning to his side. “But you wanted me to handle it.”

“Isn’t that your job? Handling shit?” He pressed his fingers to his temples. Another headache throbbed, accompanied by a small rumbling ground movement no one else noticed.

“That’s not all. Four Scourges attacked me in the air. Strange, huh?” Remi filled in the blanks of the encounter. “Larry, Moe, Curly, and Runt ordered me to vacate their skies.”

Almost everyone puzzled their brows while Indigo chuckled. Madeline explained, “It’s a reference to the Three Stooges, old Earth slapstick comedians. Runt was not one of them. I assume he made him up.”

Dom added, “Farce and a small back-up crew challenged Madeline and me on the way to the gateway. They’d been paid to snatch her. Are you losing control of the Scourges?”

Things were falling apart. His control was slipping. It was impossible. Yet, it was true.

“No,” he thundered, his loud voice bouncing off the walls.

****

D om scrunched his brows , waiting for insight from the OC. The guy played word games like a master circus ringleader, though. Was he dancing around the truth this time?

When there had been five Siblings, they’d had a division of labor. The sisters, being elemental, gave light, water, flora, and fauna to the worlds. The OC concentrated on creating life. Hence, the Immortals. Chaos had focused on controlling them. Now all jobs were in the OC’s hands. A big burden.

The OC snapped to the edge of his chair, one brow arched in warning at his assassin.

Dom took a deep breath. “Did you make Madeline a Scourge?”

The OC relaxed again, his legs stretched before him. He patted Harmony’s hand. “You may return to your job, dear.” When she strolled out the door, he swung his attention back to Dom. “No. I do not create Scourges.”

“Can you change her back?”

He squeezed his lids down tight after studying Maddy for a few moments. When his eyes opened, he said, “No. Apparently not.”

“Tell us as if we’ve never heard the story. How does an Immortal become a Scourge, and how do they un-become a Scourge?” said Dom.

Surprisingly, the OC answered. “The malady infects them, alters their DNA, changes their physical features, and creates unnatural urges. The change is different for each. Some decline slowly. Some faster. If the Scourge is too far along, I order an extinction. If I deem them capable of rehabilitation, I order them sent here. Some use their time in Angor to reform, their molecular structure again changing, allowing them to return to Vast, once more an Immortal.”

Continuing to assess Madeline, the OC angled his chin to the side. “Have you talked to Michael yet?”

“Been kinda busy ourselves. Apparently, he is, too. But we will. Tell us, if you can’t create Scourges, can anyone?” pushed Dom.

The OC stroked his jaw. “Try Gabriel. He created Earthers. I’ve always wondered if he has a backdoor to their DNA. Maybe he got his rocks off by making this human a Scourge. If so, it’s likely he can reverse the process.”

Dom nodded. He hadn’t thought of the Immortal prick Gabriel, who created Homo sapiens after he’d won a bet in one of the OC’s famous gambling games. Still, the OC should know. Had Dom given him too much credit for his power in OneWorld? Had he made all this to lose control of it?

“Did you extinct Ike?” asked Dom.

“No.” The OC rubbed circles around his temples with his fingertips.

“Do you have a headache?” asked Madeline.

He seemed surprised by the question but continued to massage his head. “A bit of one.”

Before the OC waved them on their way, he muttered, “I suggested having a chat with Luce, too.”

Again with the rec to visit Lucian. Dom’s wings flicked out. “How does he fit the bill?”

“Just do it. Now fuck off.” Once more, he rubbed his temples, his chin resting on his chest, his lids sagging.

After leaving the meeting room, the group assembled in the courtyard. Deciding only Dom and Madeline would meet with Gabriel, they flew their separate ways.

With Madeline hoisted in his arms, Dom spread his wings and soared away from Outcast Tower. On his way home, he summoned Gabriel to his place since Maddy couldn’t get travel to Vast.

When the Immortal balked, Dom pathed, Get your ass here now.

Waiting for Gabriel at the kitchen counter, Madeline dropped her chin in her palms, her eyes closed.

Dom pulled up a stool across from her. Though he wasn’t eager to get into the whole feelings thing since thoughts about Maddy being a Scourge grated on him, he listened to her worries.

Her lids slid up, and she fixed on him. “I’m trying to organize my thoughts. Unfortunately, there are so many that they’re crashing into each other. No sooner do I analyze one problem than another shoves it out. I’m a mess. Who’s Gabriel?”

Dom rose from his stool and paced. Walking in one direction, he said, “The Immortal, Gahya, created Aeternals, like Indigo.” Heading back the other way, he explained, “Gabriel created humans after winning a bet in the OC’s gaming room. Both species share your Earth. Not OneWorld.”

Lifting her chin and letting her arms rest on the counter, Maddy mumbled, “I think I read about that when all hell broke loose on Earth.” Her shoulders bobbled when she inhaled and exhaled. “Against my nature, I’m going to let these muddled thoughts float around in my head and shift into their own patterns rather than try to organize them. I suppose chaos is its own design, though that idea isn’t very uplifting.”

Dom resisted brushing his lips across Madeline’s to reassure her things would be okay. “I know this is hard for you. It would kill most humans.”

“But I’m barely human now.” She paused with a sigh. “Who’s Luce?”

Dom dragged his fingers through his hair as he continued the back and forth. Pace. Pace. “Lucian. He was a favored Immortal in Vast until he led a rebellion. Now, he’s a Scourge in Angor. I’m not sure why we should consult him.”

The shush of wings sounded. When Dom looked up, he stopped pacing to face the visitor, a male with mottled gray feathers, arrogance streaming from his eyes and on the twist of his lips.

The guy started to talk. “Why...”

That was as far as he got before Dom shouted, “Shut the fuck up, Gabriel. I’ll do the chatting. You do the answering. Clear?”

The arrogance disappeared, replaced by fear. He swallowed and nodded.

“Sit the hell down.”

After Gabriel hustled to obey, Dom blurted out, “Can you make humans into Scourges?”

Gabriel’s eyes rolled from side to side. “Why would I want to do that?”

“That wasn’t the question.” Dom snarled.

“No. I cannot. Once I created the species, all connections to them were severed. I cannot feel them, control them, or alter them. Never could. The OC demanded they be independent, and I obeyed.” He glanced at Madeline.

In a whisper, Gabriel asked, “Are you a Homo sapiens ?”

Madeline drummed her fingers on the countertop. “Kinda.”

The Immortal nodded as if he understood, which clearly he didn’t.

Dom hesitated, thinking. Then, to Gabriel, he said, “Get lost.”

The gray mottle-winged Immortal scampered off the stool, flicked out his dull wings, and soared out the roof just as a raincloud burst overhead.

Dom snapped his fingers, setting the protective shield around his home to keep out the elements.

“Do you have any other ideas?” asked Madeline.

“Talk to Michael and find Lucian. Ohngel’s working on those contacts.” He opened the fridge. “Hungry?”

“Not very.”

“Eat anyway. You need to keep up your strength.”

“Why? You’ll probably have to kill me soon.”

Dom closed the refrigerator door, angry that she was voicing his own thoughts. “How can I convince you, Maddy? I won’t fucking kill you.” The words snapped out of his mouth but were they true?

She seemed to ignore his surly tone. “No matter what terrible things I’ll do?”

“No matter what, I’ll keep you safe.” Again, a promise he might not be able to keep.

“If I go psycho, will you protect others from me so I don’t hurt anybody?”

“Yes. I will. I’ve told you that. I keep my word.”

She exhaled. “I need reassurances.”

Ohngel interrupted the going-nowhere, difficult exchange. I found Lucian holed up in a box canyon south of Necrosis Valley. The place was covered with camo nets. Great hide-out. Lots of huts and Scourges. His kind of gig. I didn’t land. Not knowing the gen pop, I thought it best if all of the Feard knocked on his virtual door.

Happy to leave, Dom pathed, I’ll be there.

****

T he OC sent Harmony back to Angor to handle business. Loneliness squeezed into his heart again. A debilitating, powerful emotion that brought forth memories.

He chuckled, remembering his sisters’ entrance that day.

Arriving in Vast like synchronized swimmers, his three Siblings floated onto the OneCreator’s bedroom floor.

“Oops,” Lumia clapped a hand over her mouth, pretending shock.

His pants were at his ankles while his cock pounded in and out of an Immortal, a species he had created along with beasts to give the Siblings entertainment and companionship. They were magnificent beings, but he had advised Lumia to cease experimenting with them to make them more splendid. More clever. More athletic. More talented. All to challenge his sister’s quick-witted mind.

Melodia made tsking sounds. “Sorry, brother. We did not know you were occupied. Though may I state your choice is lovely.” Fascinated by female as well as male Immortals, she winked at his companion, who blushed.

He growled but ceased his sexual pursuit to yank breeches over his ass. Gentleman that he was, he helped the female straighten her clothes, took her gently by the elbow, and escorted her from the room while whispering an apology and a promise in her ear.

For a moment, the air hung heavy with sorrowful recollections of Chaos , who had extincted himself and Kalia, believing his destructive powers had caused a terrible affliction to befall her.

Aah, Kalia. The female he and his brother adored equally, neither jealous of the other. She had succumbed to the madness, the first Scourge.

Most of the OneCreator’s magnificent species never contracted what came to be called a malady. Some claimed to feel its urgings but exhibited the will to fight the mysterious disease. Others, however, were contaminated. They became dangerous Scourges, blights on the Immortals. Unfortunately, Chaos’s final act of redemption, destroying himself and Kalia to stop the illness, was useless and too late. The damage was done. The past was set in stone as lifeless as Null.

After Chaos’s sacrifice, the sisters had each other, but the OneCreator had no one except his Immortals.

Facing his Siblings with his arms wide, he smiled, waving them in for a hug. “Why the visit, my dears?”

Lumia shook out the soft folds of her pale azure skirt. Bracelets adorned her wrists and ankles while ornate combs held back her treasured, luminescent blonde hair, which she considered her best feature. Peeking beneath her ensemble were strappy sandals. “We are bored in Null. The skies there are neither blue nor gray nor white. Is blah a color?”

“And we miss you. We are in the mood for fun,” the other two said in unison.

Prima’s thick lashes slid down. Up. “It was my idea to visit. Of course, we shall leave before causing mayhem.”

Brushing aside the momentary gloom, Lumia said, “Let us begin our adventures outdoors.”

Agreeing, they teleported from the house where he showed off by hopping atop a cloud. He zipped across the sky, performing acrobatics to gasped oohs and aahs. Once he drifted to the ground again, he smoothed the back of his hand along Lumia’s cheek. “You are paler than I remember. Null does not sit well with you. I wish it could be otherwise.”

“I wish the same, but such is not to be,” she said.

The day passed in pleasure. Melodia, flicking her long, red hair dramatically over her shoulder, sang a recently composed aria, her voice sweet enough to draw in low clouds to listen. Prima danced to her sister’s song, her moves graceful, her slender hands artful, her cool elegance giving way to emotion. Her feet glided along the ground, leaving it only when she leaped into the air.

He and Lumia applauded their Siblings’ talents, laughing. Though she had no artistic flair, with a sweep of her hand, Lumia called forth light and warmth, comforting their souls and spreading joy. That skill and her intellect were her gifts to others.

The four kibitzed, honoring Chaos and rejoicing about the past, the present, and the future. Snapping out her magnificent blue-hued wings, the color deeper near her spine, paler on the tips, Lumia suggested a race. They sprinted above a meadow of bright purple flowers, the OneCreator winning as usual, his wingspan the greatest. When he set down, bowing at the waist in victory, he glanced at his foot. He had cut it on a sharp rock. When it bled, he winced, unaccustomed to pain.

At the same time, Lumia smashed a hand to her chest. “I grow dizzy.”

Prima gasped, her lower lip trembling, her bronze wings as dark as her skin fluttering. “It’s time to go before we are too great a danger to one another.”

The Siblings came in for a hug, his arms tight around the sisters.

Pulling away, Melodia stiffened her spine, but a tear escaped Lumia’s eye. She said, “I miss you when we are apart.”

The OneCreator brushed the moisture from his sister’s wan cheek, his gaze mirroring a tragic reality. “Until we meet again.”