Page 34 of Loving Amari
“Is it weird that I thoroughly enjoy this?” I ask her, my hands sliding to her lower back.
She furrows her brow at me. “You like it when I curse your ass out?”
“Yeah, that too.” She glares at me, but I clear my throat and continue more seriously. “No, I mean I really love—like really love—that you are more powerful than me.”
Carla narrows her eyes at me suspiciously. “Yeah, a little.”
“It reminds me of King Amir and Queen Anora. Amir, the supernatural creature who’s been around since the beginning of time, has a woman who stands beside him who will obliterate the world for him. And you could do the same if you wanted.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “You...”
But I just kiss her, cutting off whatever sarcastic comment was coming. “I don’t care, baby. You can kick my ass when we get home.”
Carla pulls away from me, grinning, and opens a portal in my office. The sight steals my breath—or would if I needed to breathe.
I see the void of limbo through the tear in reality, but it’s nothing but darkness. A black hole that seems to swallow light itself. My instincts scream danger, but Carla takes my hand in hers and I squeeze it tightly, drawing strength from her touch.
“I’ve never visited another realm before,” I admit, staring into the abyss.
Carla steps through first, fearless as always. I step in after her, and when I look back, I can see my office, the living realm, through the portal like looking through a window.
“How do you feel?” she asks, studying me carefully.
“Fine,” I say, but I’m too busy looking over myself to really assess. The pink cloak of web-like magic glows softly around me, the only source of light besides Carla herself.
She closes the portal, and we’re plunged into true darkness. My vampire vision, usually so sharp, struggles here. I can see Carla clearly—she seems to glow with an inner light—but everything else is void.
I marvel at the darkness of limbo. There’s nothing. Just endless, oppressive nothing that presses against my consciousness. The silence is absolute, no ambient noise, no whisper of wind, nothing. It’s like being inside a sensory deprivation tank cranked to eleven.
Carla starts walking, and I follow her, noting how our footsteps make no sound despite the floor feeling solid beneath us.
“Limbo is just an endless loop of nothing unless I create something,” she explains, raising her hands.
She wiggles her fingers, and I marvel at the sight of pink web-like magic flowing out of them like liquid starlight. My eyes follow the strands as they weave through the darkness, and suddenly the magic reveals a throne.
The throne is suddenly there—massive stairs leading up to an equally massive chair that looks carved from shadows and spider silk. To the right of it sits a very large web that has... I squint, trying to understand what I’m seeing. Heads. Souls trapped like flies, their faces frozen in eternal screams.
I smile despite the horror of it. “That must be Verto’s bed.”
“What do you do in here?” I ask, trying to imagine spending any length of time in this nightmare realm.
Carla shrugs. “Sometimes I explore, but really, the void is just endless. The more I roam, the more time passes in the living. So I try to stay put and just keep Verto company.”
“Do any souls visit you?”
She shakes her head. “Never. With my children using the souls as a food source, I think they stay away. But Verto comes to me all the time with different souls that he’s caught, almost like he’s seeking approval. I always praise him for it.”
I feel the fear of the void creeping into my bones—the endless nothingness, no sound, the way the floor feels solid but also like nothing. I could be floating on air or standing on glass or falling forever. There’s no way to tell. The disorientation makes my head spin.
Carla looks at her hands, magic still sparking between her fingers. “I have all this power, and I really don’t know what to do with it. But there’s something about being here when I do visit. Like my presence in the void seems to balance things out.”
“I think that’s why Nathaniel hadn’t done anything sooner,” she continues thoughtfully. “Because I visit the void of limbo all the time. My theory is that he can’t do much when I’m here, like I stall his plans or something.”
“When I stepped into Solomon’s room through the void of limbo and caught him extracting my cousin’s magic, the first thing Nathaniel did was flee back to limbo. He didn’t try to go anywhere else.”
“I think we have some advantages here,” she finishes, looking at me expectantly.
“I agree,” I say, though my mind is racing with the implications.