Kristie Cook - Genesis

“Our time is over,” he said. “Andronika needs us.”

He nodded to the place where they had started, where Cassandra had drunk the potion in the Earthly realm. Through the shimmery air of the veil, Cassandra saw her daughter and the old woman arguing. Her breath caught as the woman grabbed Andronika in a tight hold. Her daughter thrashed her arms and legs but the woman held her tightly with unnatural strength.

“Andronika!”

Another figure—a very familiar one—darted out of the woods. Oh, no!

“Go, Cassandra,” Father ordered. “Cross through the veil and help her. Then help Niko. He needs you. I’ll be fighting from here.”

An ear-piercing screech cut through the air and two demons, blades drawn, flew at them. Cassandra couldn’t move, her heart torn. She couldn’t leave her father to fight these terrible beasts.

“I can handle this. You must do your part. This is your purpose, Cassandra. Go! They need you!”

Those last three words were what she needed to hear to get her moving. Her heart already pounding in her chest, she sprinted across the field, fighting the urge to look back.

“Don’t worry about me,” Father’s voice said in her head. “I can’t be killed. But the ones I protect need to win their fights in the Earthly realm to survive. Save them, Cassandra. We’ve given you everything you need. Go!”

The clang of metal against metal and a demonic roar rang in her ears as she crossed through the veil and her spirit slammed into her physical body. She gazed over at where she had left Father, only to see blue sky and the field atop the cliff. He and the demons were invisible to her now.

A scream from her other side jerked her into complete consciousness. She sprang to her feet faster than humanly possible and the movement surprised her. In front of her, though, Andronika still fought the witch’s hold and Niko crouched, his muscles taut and fangs bared, ready to charge. Something fell from Cassandra’s hand and landed with a thud at her feet, but she couldn’t pull her eyes away from the scene to see what it was. She didn’t have time to wonder about herself or everything Father had just told her. Her family needed her.

Is she dead? From his vantage point, Jordan couldn’t tell if the potion had killed his sister. She didn’t move. She didn’t appear to be breathing. Something slammed into his chest, as if someone heaved a large boulder at him, taking his breath away. But nothing was there. Nothing physical. Another useless emotion. How weak of him, to feel grief at the loss of a woman who did nothing but annoy him. Maybe that wasn’t the loss he felt, though. Maybe it was the loss of what he’d had planned. Yes, that made more sense.

At least he still had Andronika. He twitched his finger and the girl flew into Eris’s arms. The witch held her tightly.

And then Cassandra moved.

“Stop,” she yelled, suddenly on her feet. “Release my daughter.”

Eris’s mouth fell open with initial shock, but she recovered quickly. Her eyes narrowed and one of her fingers just barely flicked—not enough to lose her grip on Andronika, but enough to send a flash of light at Cassandra, who threw her hand up to block it. Not only did the spell ricochet off her hand and over the cliff, but Eris’s arms were forced free from Andronika and the witch flew backwards several paces. She slammed against a tree trunk and landed on her backside. Again she gaped. Then she disappeared.

Jordan chuckled. Nice work, little sister.

“Jordan?” she answered in his mind. He started with the shock of it. “You can enter my mind? Is this another of your powers?”

Ah, you can hear me and I can hear you. No, I only wish I had such an ability. It’s not my power doing this.

“I don’t understand.”

You’re doing this, little sister. Welcome to my world.

He heard her growl in his mind and then with his ears.

“Leave us alone, Jordan,” she yelled at him aloud. “I will not be like you.”

Accurately sensing him, she threw her hands in his direction, as if shooing him away. A strong wind erupted from where she stood and blew into the woods. Her familiar scent filled his senses and he nearly retched—she smelled more disgustingly sweet than she ever had. He couldn’t believe how strong her powers were.

And he couldn’t believe she was still good.

Amazement and agitation coursed through his veins and he flashed back home. Eris stood in the center of the room, her eyes glazed over and her mouth still open.

“What happened?” Jordan demanded.

Eris’s mouth shut, then opened and shut again, words failing her. Her eyes remained distant.

“She’s so … so beautiful,” the witch stammered. “And so powerful.”

“Something went wrong,” Jordan growled. “She’s still good. I could feel it like a nasty slime in the air and on my skin. This wasn’t supposed to happen! How am I supposed to create more like us if I can’t even get close to her without retching?”

Eris’s eyes finally focused and shot to him. “What do you mean?”

“Building our army, Eris. Reproducing more of us. What else would I want her for?”

Her mouth dropped open again. Her nose pulled up in disgust. “That’s why you wanted her to drink the potion? So you could mate with her? Your sister?”

Rage exploded in Jordan’s chest at the look Eris gave him. Who was she to judge him? His pulse thundered in his head. He fought the urge to grab her by the neck and strangle her.

“Of course, you doltish witch. Deimos and I need the best mates we can get.”

He shot his hand up and the door exploded out of the way. He marched outside, kicked a stone and slammed his fist into the trunk of a cypress, leaving a large dent. A stray dog scampered across the way, whimpering, and Jordan threw a ball of fire at the useless creature. An old woman cried out and he turned his hand toward her. Her eyes widened and she hurried out of his sight.

The old hag’s fear made him feel somewhat better, calm enough to try to think through what went wrong with Cassandra. She’d reacted to the potion immediately, even faster than Deimos had. She appeared to age backward many years, back to how she looked several decades ago, like a young woman. And her powers. Were they stronger than his? Impossible! But he could definitely feel they were different. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to overcome that difference. Perhaps it will take time for the Daemoni blood to seep into her core.

This thought instantly changed his outlook. Of course that was it! He’d need to give it time, just like his transformation took months to gain the full effects. With a sense of relief, he returned to the house. And found Eris in a convulsive fit.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, showing only whites. Her face twisted and contorted, her features growing and shrinking right in front of his eyes. Her body trembled and quaked. Her arms whipped in the air. An object flew out of her hand and landed at his feet. He picked up the water skin and held it under his nose.

“Eris,” he bellowed. “What have you done?”

She looked as though she tried to answer, but her enlarged tongue flopped out of her mouth, reminding him of a dead donkey. One of her dark eyes grew larger and larger, until it bulged out of its socket. An arm shrunk in girth to the size of a stick and lengthened to the floor while the other forearm blossomed to twice its normal roundness. Her legs swelled to look like tree trunks. She fell to the floor and writhed and Jordan just watched with fascinated horror.

As the convulsions slowed into shudders and then just tremors, her body began returning to normal. Then it went further back, back in time, just as Cassandra’s had done. When she finally stilled, she looked just like the goddess Jordan had first met. He fell to his knees next to her and lifted her head into his lap.