Eyes wide, she didn’t move. “No. You don’t understand how hungry I am. I won’t be able to stop.”

  “I’ve fed you before. Remember?” As a wizard, he was one of the few humans who could replace his own energies by drawing from the environment.

  She shook her head. “That was nothing. I’ll kill you.”

  Ignoring her resistance, he stepped into her and enfolded her with his arms. Tailtiu tried to push him away, but her body was already rebelling, refusing to apply the force necessary to oppose his relatively feeble mortal strength. Instead, her hands opened and circled his back, tightening to keep him from trying to escape. Unable to stop herself, she began drawing energy from his body, pulling it directly from every point of contact between them.

  A predatory growl rumbled in her throat as his vitality flowed into her, but it was just a trickle compared to what she needed. Lifting her chin, she nuzzled Will’s throat, opening her mouth to suckle at his neck as though she was a vampire, though her teeth never broke his skin. What she needed wasn’t blood.

  Will had steeled himself for her hunger, drawing from the ley line before he hugged her, but the greedy pull of her emptiness was more than he expected. Even worse was the pleasure that accompanied it, a natural part of her feeding mechanism that ensured her prey wouldn’t fight for long. His legs folded, unable to support his weight as she bore him to the cold stone platform.

  He’d intended to control the flow of energies, to replace what she took as she fed, to regulate the speed of it all, but her voracious appetite wouldn’t be denied, and the pleasure she radiated overwhelmed his conscious mind. Electric shivers ran through his skin wherever she touched, causing his body to spasm involuntarily.

  His breastplate might have stopped her briefly, but it had somehow been unbuckled and cast aside. The clothing beneath it suffered a more violent fate as Tailtiu’s hands tore it apart like gossamer so she could get at his bare skin. The world was obliterated in a flash of whiteness as her body finally lay against him, skin to skin.

  Awareness returned briefly as she pulled back to choose the richest targets. Her lips and tongue roamed his chest, neck, and finally locked onto his mouth. Will found himself moaning as she drew the life out of him, and in his ears he could hear his heart pounding like a drum, fast at first, but gradually slowing. He was drowning in a river of delight, but he hardly cared. Everything was fading into black, but he felt warm and euphoric.

  An empty husk with nothing left, his heart stopped.

  From unconsciousness, Will emerged into an all-encompassing light. It was a place he was familiar with, though he struggled to remember why. The words came to him before his mind fully registered the thought. “This is where I came last time I died.”

  He’d died at Selene’s first wedding, deliberately using a necromantic spell that would anchor his soul and hopefully allow him to return if his body was healed within a short span of time, but he had never been able to remember the time in between, while he was dead. Now he did.

  “We have to stop meeting like this. Once is enough for most people.”

  The voice was rich, with a deep but vibrant timbre. Turning around, Will saw a tall, slender man with dark hair and a sharp, well-trimmed beard. Piercing blue eyes complemented an exotic outfit of black leather with aggressive red accents that made it seem the man had been deliberately painted with blood. Will recognized him immediately from some of the iconography in the Mother’s Cathedral. It was Temarah’s husband, Lord of the Underworld and enemy of the light. Will named him. “You’re Marduke.”

  “That’s what they call me now,” admitted his visitor. “But I have other names, mostly forgotten, like this one.” He gestured to highlight the ominous hunting leathers he wore. “This outfit was to commemorate one of them, when people called me the Blood Count.”

  Will wasn’t familiar with the title, but he was no student of religious lore. “You seem proud of them.”

  The dark god nodded. “At the time, I was being painted with a black brush by my enemies. They settled all the blood that had been spilled on my shoulders and made me the focus of their blame.”

  Unwilling to sympathize with the god of evil, Will responded in a sardonic tone, “You don’t think you deserved blame?”

  “Some of it, certainly, but not the bulk, not by far.” The god’s eyes seemed to cut through Will, as though they might flay the flesh from his imaginary body. “I let it weigh me down until my wife made these clothes for me.” Marduke patted the leather affectionately. “She made me realize their opinions meant little, and instead of accepting shame, I should take the spite directed at me and turn it into a symbol of honor. These clothes represent the monster they saw me as, but I took that image and wore it with pride.”

  Will shook his head. “Temarah made them?” After the god nodded, he asked a new question. “I’ve never understood that. Why would the Mother marry her opposite? If she’s truly the source of goodness, love, and compassion, why would she even tolerate your existence? Doesn’t that mean she isn’t good either?” He felt bad saying the words, especially since Temarah had saved him personally once, but he couldn’t hide his feelings.

  The paragon of corruption laughed. “You’re brave to say such things to me.”

  “I’m going to hell anyway.”

  The god’s face took on a curious expression. “You mean before you were going to hell, before you died a minute ago, right?”

  “I mean now. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To take me to the real one, where the souls of the damned go,” said Will.

  Marduke waved his hand dismissively. “That place is just make-believe. Unless you create it for yourself, it doesn’t exist. If you do wind up in such a place, don’t blame me. I’m just here to chat.”

  The god’s smile was so genuine and warm that Will wanted to believe him. “You’re a liar.”

  “So are you,” returned Marduke, “though I have to admit I’m a lot better at it than you are. The number of times you’ve gotten into trouble just because you couldn’t lie convincingly—it boggles the mind. In that sense, you and your wife are the opposite of me and mine. Selene is full of intrigue, while you struggle. Penny was likewise much more honest than I was.”

  “Penny?”

  “Temarah,” the god clarified. “Her real name was Penelope, back when we were just ordinary people.” Marduke rubbed his chin for a moment, seeming to think, then offered his hand. “Nice to meet you. My name is Mordecai Illeniel.”

  Will took the hand reflexively. It felt warm and human. “You’re saying you really were just a man once? How did you become…like this?”

  “I destroyed the universe and took on the curse of existence, replacing the old creator and dreaming up a universe of my own.” Mordecai’s expression was wry as he added, “Somehow, I hoped it would be better than the last, but I have little conscious control. The dream has a mind of its own, and it populates every life with equal parts tragedy and comedy, whether I wish it or not.”

  Frowning, Will considered what he had heard, then responded, “I find it hard to believe you. If you’re the source of everything, what is Temarah? You’re known as the king of lies, but if she were here to vouch for you, I might find you more creditable. I’ve met her before, so I know she’d tell me the truth.”

  Mordecai’s expression grew wistful. “You met her, did you? How did she seem?”

  “Sad,” he admitted. “I was being whipped. She helped me endure the pain.”

  The god nodded, then turned his back. “That sounds like Penny. Your predicament would have had special meaning to her.” He said nothing for a while, then turned back to face Will once more. “Unfortunately, she cannot appear to give you reassurance while I am here.”

  Undeterred, Will asked, “Why not?”

  “We were two people, but we joined our souls when she died. Since then, we both exist as a single entity. When I am here, she is not and vice versa. Sound familiar?”

  “Not particularly,” said Will.

  Mordecai studied him carefully for several seconds, then announced, “I sometimes forget the differences in magic between this dream and the old one. Your sister is unable to appear the way Penny did. Nevertheless, she is there inside you.”

  “What?” Alarm filled Will’s heart. “What does that mean?” A host of thoughts ran through his mind immediately thereafter. “Can she be saved? Could she possess another body?”

  Mordecai put his hands on Will’s shoulders. “I did not mean to give you false hope. She’s not a separate person anymore. What’s left is merely a facet of your soul. Think of a coin with two faces. It’s something like that.”

  “Then she could live if I died?” asked Will.

  “No, William. Souls do not have a quantity you can count or measure, like sand or rocks. You could merge with every person you ever loved and there would still only be one soul within you. You cannot bring her back, but flashes of her may appear in your thoughts now and then. When you die, it will be over, until you are reborn in the dream.” The god turned his gaze to one side and gestured. “Besides, in case you’ve forgotten, you’ve already died—again.” The platform came into view, and Will saw his mostly naked body lying still on the cold stone.

  It was an embarrassing sight by any measure of decency. The demon-steel breastplate lay discarded to one side while his clothes had been ripped apart from neck to groin, exposing his bare flesh. Strangely, despite knowing he had died, Will was more concerned by the stains on what remained of his trousers. His end had been bewildering, and there were gaps in his memory, but he hadn’t thought things had gone quite that far.

  Turning back to the god, Will asked, “Did I…?” He couldn’t quite finish the sentence. Dead or not, he didn’t want to think he’d betrayed Selene. “I only wanted to save her.”

  Mordecai put a hand on his shoulder. “You should have expected that, given her nature, but no, what you’re thinking didn’t actually happen. The fae girl stopped herself—and you—but it was too late, and your heart stopped beating anyway.”

  Will felt a sense of relief, until he became aware of Tailtiu sitting beside his body, openly weeping. In all the time he had known her, from the cruel innocence she possessed when he first met her, to the day Elthas had crushed her first pet into the dirt, Will had never seen his aunt in a more pitiful state. When he had rescued her from the vampires, she had been torn and battered, but although her body now glowed with health, she seemed stricken by a far greater pain.

  As he studied the scene Will noticed that his force-dome still remained. Confused, he turned to Mordecai. “Why is the spell still up? Force effects don’t linger like other magics. It should be gone if I’m dead.”

  “This is the moment of your death,” said the god. “Time doesn’t exist here. Nothing will happen until you pass on to find your next life.”

  “But she’s crying,” said Will. “How can she cry if time is frozen?”

  “You’re seeing with your mind. This is similar to when you travel in the astral plane. Her body isn’t actually moving, but you are seeing the reality inside the fae woman’s heart. Without time, your perception would be incomprehensible, so your mind renders it as a moving scene.” The god gave him a sympathetic look. “We should go. Staying here isn’t a kindness.”

  Feeling suddenly stubborn, Will dug in his heels. “Then why am I seeing it?”

  Mordecai seemed sad. “Because I’m not always strong. Sometimes I’m lonely, and you remind me of myself, so I selfishly allowed this so we could talk. Come, the pain will be gone once you let go, along with all the painful memories.”

  “I don’t have to let go,” argued Will, remembering his grandfather’s end. Arrogan had lingered beyond his physical death. “My will is strong enough to keep me here if I refuse.”

  “You aren’t a lich, William,” said the god. “You can delay, but without a lot of frankly disturbing preparation, you can’t remain forever without a living body.”

  Will glared at the Lord of the Underworld. “Your words are right, but you’re lying too. I’ve dealt with the fae long enough to recognize a lie hidden in truth.” Pointing at his corpse, he declared, “There’s nothing wrong with me physically. If she’s stopped feeding, I can restore my turyn—my heart just needs to start beating again. There’s no reason I should die here.”

  The god held his hands out in a gesture of uncertainty. “If you’re that stubborn, maybe.”

  “Why did you try to trick me?”

  Mordecai shook his head. “Wrong question. A better one would be why did I try to spare you from the pain of what is to come? The answer is simple mercy. I told you before that you remind me of myself.”

  Will’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Do you know the future?”

  “No, but I’ve seen every tragic play you could possibly imagine.” Mordecai pointed at Will’s chest. “And you, William Cartwright, are firmly caught in this one. What will happen to you? I can only guess, though I bet I could come close. No matter the exact details, what comes next will harrow your heart and soul until you wish you were dead. Press your luck far enough, and you might discover a fate even worse than the one I’m already predicting. Trust me, death is a kindness.”

  As frightening as the god’s words were, Will still had reservations. “What happens to everyone else if I die here?”

  “They all live happily ever after. It’s a win-win,” answered Mordecai, making no effort to sound truthful.

  “No, they don’t.”

  Mordecai sighed. “Most of them will die, but as I’ve been trying to get through to you, that’s not such a bad thing. Everyone gets a new life, even if this world fails to survive. Get out while you can. Next time around, you may get a quiet life with a fat belly and ten children to tease you while you grow old.”

  “Screw that,” said Will. “I’m staying.”

  The god vanished, and the sky turned dark. Thunder rolled and clouds raced across the sky while an ominous voice shook Will’s heart. “Defy me and my curse will scour the flesh from your bones and torment you with the pain of a thousand…” The voice stopped there, and after a long pause, finished, “rusty nails.”

  Confused, Will wrinkled up his nose in disbelief. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  An instant later, the world returned to normal, and Mordecai reappeared. “I never was creative enough with threats. You’re determined to do this?”

  Will nodded.

  “Very well, then I will give you two pieces of advice. One, dragon-fire can burn through anything. Walls, barriers, force effects, almost any magic you can imagine, all things are devoured by the flame, except flame itself—or something very similar to flame. Pay attention.” The god brought his two open palms together in a resounding clap, sending a tremendous shockwave of sound shivering through the air, then he smiled. “That wouldn’t suffice, but given your talents, you might come up with something that would. Two, don’t attempt to kill the lich.”

  “But I have to,” argued Will. “I made a promise.”

  “You aren’t fae. Break it.”

  “Are you saying it won’t work?” Will demanded.

  Mordecai pursed his lips, then let out a sigh. “It will work, but the spell you intend to use is a bad idea. It will mark your existence as something separate and draw the attention of things that shouldn’t exist. Be patient and you may find another way later.”

  Growling, Will swore, “I am so sick of vague bullshit answers! Even if I understood, would it really help me win?”

  “Winning isn’t the best answer. My advice is an attempt to help you lose less miserably.” The god faded from view.

  “Fuck that,” howled Will, suddenly furious. “I’m going to win. Do you hear me?” he yelled into what had become an empty void.

  Chapter 38

  The darkness changed, and with it his perception of self. The world slowly returned, and Will found himself back inside his old shell, a body of flesh and bone that was still warm, though the heart had ceased to beat. His energy was gone, but his will remained, and a savage torrent of turyn was close at hand, roaring through the stone beneath him. Seizing it, he flooded his flesh with energy but failed to attune it properly. Without the seed of his natural turyn to serve as a template, the foreign power tore through him, damaging and revitalizing his tissues in equal amounts. Will’s consciousness rode the chaos like a toy boat thrown into rapids.

  Searing pain turned every nerve into molten agony, and for a brief instant his resolve faltered.

  No! Show them the truth. Show them what I know. Laina’s voice echoed around him.

  On the edge of despair, he responded, What truth?

  You’re invincible!

  He knew she was wrong. Wrong to a degree that bordered on pure stupidity, but he had to live to finish the argument. With crude and intangible hands, Will tamped down the flow from the ley lines and tried to filter out the frequencies that were causing the greatest pain. An eternity of struggle ensued, but gradually the fires within died down and his torment faded. Somewhere in the center of it all, he found a tiny mote of light, a speck of turyn different than what came from outside—his source. It had been absent before, but the raging river of turyn had relit the candle even as it threatened to immediately snuff it out again.

  On familiar ground, Will rebuilt his boundaries, walling his source away and controlling its output, sheltering it within a tightly controlled space. Outside that was a larger space, the place where his body and the turyn that sustained it would reside. Purging it of foreign energy, Will slowly refilled it with power filtered and converted to match the tiny example set by his source.

  Will’s eyes opened, and violent nausea gripped him. Rolling onto his side, he vomited until his stomach was empty, and after that he continued to retch and heave. Everything hurt, as though he had awakened from a near-fatal drinking binge.

  As the convulsive movements of his stomach started to slow, Will became aware of a silence around him, punctuated only by an ominous rumbling. Looking around, he saw that his shield had disappeared and everyone was staring at him with various expressions of worry and concern. Sammy was moving forward despite the stench, anxious to help him somehow, while Tailtiu knelt close by, staring at him as though she was unable to believe her eyes.