#the chain of thorns chapter name 'old voices' makes me think its gonna be something with the tid gang | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jynxlovesluck · 6 years ago

Text

To Love The Sky Chapter 2

There is something missing from the way we love when it is distant.

The cavern, empty and mindless, swallowed them whole.

Logan led, trying to find the path that would be what they needed. But the subconscious grew your paranoia, flourishing in the unlikely and harsh environment for them all. And the conscious did not like letting them go.

There were moments. Flashes, just like Virgil's skin in the light. They would reveal the ugliness below, the gushing and squelching that made be rise in their throats.

Patton cleared his throat. The tunnel absorbed the small shuttered sound like a meal. “How do we know we're going the right way?”

Roman brought out his sword in one smooth motion, metal melting and extending more metal as a sword. Logan should tell them to drop the fake skins. There wasn't much point going to the subconscious and pretending they were anything human. “We know where we are going as we are the main parts of the mind!” His sword glowed, and lit their way as even the light couldn’t avoid the neverending hunger that kept them moving slowly, slowly.

It would have been convincing, if Roman's eyes didn't go from chocolate diamond to yellow sapphire. Logan those eyes whispered; begging, tired, paradoxical in their hopeful and hopeless hold onto him do we know where we're going? Another, tugging the answer like maybe this wouldn't end in a crash, are we really gonna get Virgil back?

For the first time since he had woken up and headed for the dark, Logan paused. Virgil had apologised for some reason or another. Had said he felt sorry.

Had kissed him alive. Had kissed him goodbye.

Instead of being the voice of doubt, (which, unfortunately, is who they were getting), Logan became something close to who he used, and who he would be. The voice of reason.

“Roman is correct. While it will be more difficult later on, we are the main aspects of Thomas’ person. For now, we are fine.”

Patton sighed in relief, Roman not far behind him. The walls didn't close in, but the pressure on Logan's shoulders almost made it seem like they did.

The dastardly silence wasn’t the faux comfort one of his own mind. This one held tension like it’s newborn babe. No invisible walls. No chains to hold him down, dragging his body. Nothing but his own heart and the others’ fears to rip him up.

Logan swore he was no doll. No matter what, Logic is something greater than a faulty toy.

He paused.

Wasn’t there a reason why he had been a toy? Some underlying cruel joke, making Logan a useless plaything.

“Logan?” Patton’s voice, a quiet tremble of what it should have been. His and Roman's eyes burned Logan’s body.

Wasn’t that familiar?

“Logic.” Roman’s voice, deadly and-not poisonous, but pointed and sharpened stuck in him. A needle ready to bare into his throat, ready to cut his strings. Logan shivered. “Get a hold of yourself.”

That may have been more effective then a bucket of water, or a slap to the face. It hurt a lot more, though.

“Roman,” Patton hissed, his teeth shining despite the dark, “I will bury you if you don’t knock off this stupid idea that-” His voice ended as swiftly as it had began.

They shouldn’t be stopped, they needed to leave, Virgil was counting on them, he was-

“-waiting on us.” Roman had closed his buds, a thorn filled rose that wilted under his gardners gaze. But his eyes were still steel, unforgiving, and Logan could take a guess about what he thought.

“I agree.” Logan sighed. “I apologise for stopping, I am merely a little disoriented.” He shrugged his shoulders, and lifted his arm in a slow movement. When his hand reached the length of his face, he flicked his hand in a jerked movement, and a ball of starlight made the cavern glow. “This might be able to hold more light then just our forms and your sword.”

He wasn’t sure how long it would last. Patton and Roman seemed to get the hint, and followed behind him once more.

The uncertainty followed faithfully behind, too.

They didn’t know when they existed the cavern, as Logan’s light had finally broken apart a day’s walk ago.

There was no telling how long they had really been gone, and a few days travel could either be a moment or a week on the outside. The mind had a funny way of trying to process the intricate ridiculous nature of time, and despite knowing how futile it was, Logan still yearned to know how long they had abandoned their charge.

A cloud glowed in front of them.

“What’s that?” Patton tried to go forward, but Roman held his elbow gently in his grasp, his other hand lifting the sword towards the unknown like their were small and he needed to protect the lot of them from nightmares.

“I am not sure, but I think it might be-”Logan reached out, his skin chipping away the closer he got. At the same time, the cloud transitioned from grey to white, swirling faster and faster, a whirlpool in the middle of their path.

“Logan wait!” Roman let go of his sword to try to reach him, his eyes wide and horrified. But it was too late.

Half of Logan’s hand dissolved, already twisting painlessly off his body. His arm, his shoulder, his feet. Logan turned back to Patton and Roman. With a gasp as the light enveloped his whole body, he reached out with his hand and told them, “Go forward. Keep going. I’ll be there soon.”

And then poof. Gone. The blinding white light left as it had come, and Logan took several minutes to see again, adjusting his glasses as he steadied himself.

What he saw could only be described as a graveyard with none of the bodies buried or molded.

And everyone had his human face.

Logan didn’t panic. He didn’t move. Insteaded, he looked around, trying to analyse and observe like their biology teacher in eighth grade taught them how too. Around the room, bodies laid around. Some were postered like one would lay a body in a coffin. Others were in a fetal position, cocooned in their own arms.

Logan peered down at the body below, one that seemed to be carelessly tossed. It’s arms were out, and one of it’s legs looked uncomfortably bent.

“Dolls?”He kneeled down and touched the side of its neck. It still had Thomas’ human face, but something besides that seemed familiar.

“Do you recognise him?” A voice ghosted over Logan’s shoulder into his ear. He shivered. “Besides the obvious, I mean.”

Logan looked around, but saw no one. “Where are you?”

There, a pregnant pause. No answer.

He huffed, and bent down again to look closer at the doll. The outfit screamed old, a green dinosaur costume with the sleeves fraying and dusty from a lifetime of stiff disuse. The person Thomas, but younger, with rounder cheeks and no eyebags or laugh lines.

It clicked. “Wait. This is Thomas’ first school play character. Oh what was his name.” Logan squinted.

“Berry Good, the Lord of the dinosaurs.” A foot appeared on the outskirts of Logan’s vision. A glance up and he knew exactly who had found him.

“Aren’t you the sleep character?” Sunglasses on, starbucks cup in hand, this most definitely was the ‘personification’ of Thomas’ sleep schedule, according to his vines.

“That’s Remy to you.” Remy put his hand on his hip and toward over Logan. “Some of us really appreciate the fact that even if Thomas didn’t name us, the audience he adores did. I got a name, and more character development from fans then Thomas had time to put into me.” His eyes appeared to be fire burning when his sunglasses fell down his nose. “So don’t act like I’m another throw away, Logan.”

Logan raised his hands up in what he hopped was a submissive gesture. “I apologise Remy, I typically leave that information with Roman so that I may process other features of life for Thomas.”

Remy leaned back up, his sunglasses sliding back into place and a sly smile taking up residence on his face. “I’m glad we could reach a comfortable conclusion, Logan.” He held out his hand towards Logan. “Now come on, your probably have a million and one questions, and I don’t have much time before the Reset.”

Logan’s left eyebrow rose, but he grabbed Remy’s hand and stood up. “Alright then. Where should we go?”

Remy chuckled. “I think up there would be best, considering that’s his favorite spot.” He pointed to the dark corner on the other side of the giant’s room they were in.

Logan couldn’t even see the end of the room, in fact. “But why do we-,” Logan turned back, only to see Remy had disappeared. With a huff, he started to cross the room.

Every step he took felt like danger would creep on him like a crazed lover, every old face appearing in memories, every important character in Thomas’ life that caused them to be happy, sad, expanded ideas, explored concepts, every character that caused a change or left a mark, strewn about and forgotten.

The constant reminder of Thomas’ past colored his vision in warm memories and nausea. To see them there, like the wreckage after a storm, meant a few things and reminded Logan that the world where he existed only in one person.

Why? Why leave Logan here. Why not take the others while stealing him away? Why was Logan even agreeing to cross the courtyard when he desperately needed to get to the heart of the subconscious?

That soft voice of the hardest of them all appeared again to him, kind and mocking. “You're too curious for your own good, nerdex.”

Logan’s heart leapt out of his chest as he cradled his head in his hands with only the pitiful whisper of “Virgil.” on his lips.

“Good of you to see me.” Remy’s voice spoke allowed, right next to Logan.

“Wait, how did you get-”

“Now sit down, I don’t have much time.”

Logan sat down.

Remy was staring out the window, but as far as Logan could see, behind four panels of glass were nothing but white oblivion.

“We come here a lot, you know.” Remy lifted the side of his head, as though the very air would talk to him. Then again, hadn’t Logan been doing the exact same thing? “Virgil has always been kind, if not a bit strict with the Parts.”

“Parts?” Logan asked.

“Yes. That’s what they are,” he gestured to behind him with a thumb over his shoulder, “Each of those characters, no matter how short of a time, were once apart of Thomas.” Remy’s hand dropped, and he turned his head to face Logan. “And this is where they go unless they’re called upon again or forgotten.”

“Oh.” All those bodies, all laying there, waiting. Some for months. Others, years. Their eyes closed, their lives paused, and their dreams put to sleep…

Sleep.

“So is that why your the only one awake?” Logan leaned forward. “Because you are not only a part of Thomas’ sleep cycle, but you’re also a Part?”

Remy grinned. “That’s right. Who better to guard them all but me?”

A sweet note clanged into the distance. Remy’s face fell into narrowed eyes and a frown. “But we don’t have time. Virgil won’t last much longer. Remember, you cannot enter the heart of a problem till you accept it.”

They heard a second dong ring as Remy stood up. “Time for me to go Logan. See yah later.”

“Why are you leaving so suddenly?” Logan scrambled up and grabbed Remy’s shoulder. “And how do I get back to the others?”

Remy hummed, and looked out the window again. “Well, you know how Thomas and Roman can’t remember a dream long enough most of the time for you to record them?”

Logan nodded.

“Well, when the bell rings three times, I start forgetting.” Remy reached forward and unlocked the window. “I suppose its so I can’t become powerful enough to leave between my realm and here. If I want a chance to remember, I have to leave.”

Remy patted Logan’s arm as Logan let go of his shoulder. “I want to at least write down your progress before I become a clean slate again.” He stepped out of the dark room they were in and into blinding white.

He turned around for a moment. “And for the record, I didn’t bring you here. Guess that means someone else wants you to save Virgil.”

The door closed before Logan could say another word, and with Remy waving his hand, the glass panels fogged up until he couldn’t be seen. When they cleared, he was gone.

Logan started to turn before he realised, “I didn’t tell him I suspected he brought me here. I didn’t even tell him why I came to the subconscious.”

The same light as before appeared behind Logan, but instead of the intimidation he felt earlier, he only felt peace. Hopefully the others didn’t get into too much trouble while he was away.

“I’ll be there soon.” Logan took one look around.

And stepped into the light.

Hey guys! Long time no read...Sorry about that. Life’s been a bit chaotic, and I really didn’t have much passion for this story for awhile. But with summer getting closer, I do believe writing might be easier for a while so YEEHAW. Thank you so much for being so patient. I love you all <3

Tags:

@romansleftshoulderpad @poisonedapples @raiseafuckingglass @theincediblesulk @sillycookie1603 @fangirls-too-much @changeling-ash @notafeeling @today-only-happens-once @ravenclawangst @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @demonvirgil @sign-from-god-complex @severe-fangirl-syndrome @book-of-charlie @pastel-aesthetics-blog @confinesofpersonalknowledge @madly-handsome

#sanders sides #analogical #virgil sanders #logan sanders #jynxed stories

46 notes · View notes

goforwardgreenwriter-blog · 6 years ago

Text

The Worm Reads: Empire of Storms, Ch 28 - 29

I honestly don’t know how it can get worse from here.

So they start the real official meeting that Rowan called in Rolfe’s office, and Aelin wastes no time making me want to rip my eyes out.

[Rowan’s] face—oh, gods, [Aelin]’d missed that harsh, unyielding face

Back to Ratlin (that’s what I’m calling it from now on) splooging I see. Great. Can’t wait for multiple paragraphs of Aelin busting a nut at the thought of Rowan’s peen while SJM insists these books have a plot.

Aelin decided she didn’t particularly give a shit who was watching and rose up on her toes to brush her mouth against [Rowan’s].

UHHH WHAT THE FUCK AELIN. THIS IS AN IMPORTANT MEETINGS THAT’LL DETERMINE IF ROLFE JOINS YOUR WAR EFFORT OR NOT YOU CAN’T JUST - oh forget it, I’ll just sound like a broken record.

[Aelin] just prayed she’d be able to warn Aedion before he ran into his father - who was now sitting two seats down from her, gawking at her as if she had ten heads. Gods, even the expression was like Aedion’s. How hadn’t she noticed that this spring in Wendlyn?

My monkey brain is having feels because I’m sucker for the “child is spitting image of their parent” trope..... bad monkey brain.

“And who would verify the word of a nineteen-year-old princess?” [Aelin] jerked her chin at the wax-sealed tube. “Murtaugh Allsbrook would. He wrote you a nice, long letter about it.” Rolfe picked up the tube, studied it, and chucked it in a neat arc—right into his rubbish bin. The thud echoed through the office.

LMAOOOOOO YOU GO ROLFE!!! SLAY THAT BITCH!!!! I mean considering all the shit Aelin put him through I don’t blame him not wanting to align with her.

Rolfe let out a low laugh. “The talk of young idealists and dreamers.” “The world,” Aelin said, “will be saved and remade by the dreamers, Rolfe.”

See, this is the kind of shit I would be getting excited about if this was a good series. Sounds like something straight of Les Mis. SJM can come up with some good quotes, but if I don’t care about the horrible characters and there’s no plot, why should I give a shit?

Aelin purred, “Do you want gold, Rolfe? Do you want a title? Do you want glory or women or land? Or is it just the bloodlust that drives you?”

Oh my god, SJM is a furry!

Looks like you bid on the wrong horse [Rowan],” Rolfe crooned. He flicked his eyes to Dorian. “What news did you receive?” But that wrong horse [Rowan] cut in smoothly, “There was none. But you’ll be glad to know your spies at the Ocean Rose are certainly doing their job. And that His Majesty is quite an accomplished actor.”

Jesus Christ this writing

Dorian said coldly, “For a petty grudge, you’d refuse to consider allying with us?” Aelin snorted. “I’d hardly call wrecking his shit-poor city and ships a ‘petty grudge.’”

T-this... this can’t be. I am reading Empire of Storms by SJM, right? Aelin? Having self awareness? In my SJM book? Well, it’s more likely... to never appear again.

Rolfe tells Aelin to go fuck herself and that scene ends, permanently establishing Rolfe as one of the few Well Written Characters. I want him, Darrow, Manon, and Gav to leave this shitty series and go forth to a better one.

Aelin hit the narrow hallway, a wall of muscle at her back and by her side, and faced another dilemma: Aedion.

I smell Aedion daddy issues angst over the horizon. Also, are the ‘walls of muscle’ supposed to be Rowan and... the other Fae??? God SJM stop jerking off to your own characters for 5 minutes please.

Aelin made it all of three steps down the hall when Gavriel said behind her, “Where is he?” Slowly, she looked back. The warrior’s tan face was tight, his eyes full of sorrow and steel.

Damn, I just feel really bad for Gav. Keep in mind I don’t remember why he left Aedion (if it was revealed previously) but I’m hoping SJM actually uses him and makes him a good father, this series is severely lacking in good parental figures.

But Aelin sucked on a tooth

“You don’t get to decide when and where and how you meet him,” Aelin said. “He’s my gods-damned son. I think I do.”

Nooo SJM I’m begging you I like Gav please don’t make him a toxic fuckboi pleeeeeease

Aelin just tells Gav not to order her around and that scene ends...? Okay. I hope SJM is implying Gav calmed down and respected his son’s boundaries. I just want one character to stay good and pure and to be a good father is that too much to ask.

Later Aelin goes to have a chat with Dorian.

“It seems you and I are currently without crowns, thanks to a few bullshit pieces of paper.” Dorian didn’t return her smile. The stairs groaned beneath them as they headed for the second floor. They were almost to the room Dorian had indicated when he said, “Maybe that’s a good thing.”

I mean, Dorian, you seem like a good king who would fight to defend his people. You deserve to be king. But Aelin? Yeah if she was queen her kingdom would be already burnt to the ground, so you’re half right.

They have another meeting where Rowan/Dorian share more information about the witches.

“Manon Blackbeak,” Aedion mused, “would be a valuable ally, if we can get her to turn.”

NO NONO NO NO KEEP MANON’S BEAUTIFUL SELF AWAY FROM AELIN’S CRUSTY ASS I’M BEGGING

It was never-ending, [Aelin] supposed while they dined that night on peppered crab and spiced rice.

Reading this as a Cape Bretoner was a mistake. Now I’m hungry for some good seafood..... mmmm, battered fish and chips.....

And [Aelin] was to be given nothing more than obscure commands by long-dead royals to find a way to stop it, nothing more than gods-damned months to rally a force against him.

Gods-damned is a stupid word and SJM should feel bad for abusing it. Aelin decides to make sure Rolfe’s hand maps work and the chapter ends. Next!

Too many animals loitering about the streets at this hour would attract the wrong sort of attention. But Aedion still wished that the shifter was wearing fur or feathers compared to … this.

Greaaat are we gonna get Aedion slut shaming Lysandra? Just what I wanted....

He glanced at the delicate gold chain dangling around Lysandra’s pale throat, tracing its length down the front of her bodice, to where the Amulet of Orynth was now hidden beneath. “Admiring the view?” Aedion snapped his eyes up from the generous swells of her breasts. “Sorry.”

The only reason Lysandra is wearing the Amulet is so Aedion can drool over her boobies. I’m right and you all know it.

“Rowan claimed Rolfe would find the amulet interesting enough to go after it.” “Rowan and Aelin have a tendency to say one thing and mean something else entirely.” Aedion heaved a breath through his nose.

Aedion actually criticizing Aelin?? What the fuck is going on??

Lysandra gets pissy when Aedion points out she’s tired. Not even to condescend towards her, he’s actually concerned, so calm down, Lysandra. We get an ““““explanation”“““ for Lysandra’s shifting powers.

Each shift took something out of Lysandra. The bigger the change, the bigger the animal, the steeper the cost. Aedion had witnessed her morph from butterfly to bumblebee to hummingbird to bat within the span of a few minutes. But going from human to ghost leopard to bear or elk or horse, she’d once demonstrated, took longer between shifts, the magic having to draw up the strength to become that size, to fill the body with all its inherent power.

Better than nothing, but... how does shifting into bigger animals exhaust her but shifting into smaller animals doesn't? Each time the mass of her body is changing, so shouldn’t shifting in general exhaust her? Btw, read Animorphs, it’s a great gritty series that deals with shifting powers way better.

Aedion, however, stiffened slightly as those steps grew closer, and he found himself staring at the son of his great enemy. King, now.

This is confusing as fuck. Stop referring to Dorian as king and use his name so we can understand who Aedion is staring at, thank you.

[Aedion] reined in his scowl as he said to the king, “So, you and Whitethorn didn’t kill each other.” Dorian’s brows scrunched. “He saved my life, nearly got himself burned out to do it. Why should I be anything but grateful?”

Great, now we have to add Rowan splooging that isn’t from Aelin to the list.

He did not resent what she had been, what she portrayed now, only the monsters who had seen the beauty the child would grow into and taken her into that brothel. Aelin had told him what Arobynn had done to the man she’d loved. It was a miracle the shifter could smile at all.

What the fuuuuck why is Aedion portrayed as ~noble and amazing~ for not judging Lysandra based on her past? It’s common human decency to not judge people for things out of their control!! Does SJM not understand how humans operate?

Aedion tells Dorian to fuck off and he leaves, and Lysandra gets understandably irritated by Aedion being a dick.

“He stabbed Aelin. If you knew him as I have, you wouldn’t be so willing to fawn over—”

1. Dorian was, to my memory, being controlled by a demon thing when he stabbed Aelin. He was not in his right mind, and did not have control over himself. Stop holding that over his head, you prick.

2. Aedion you were an asshole too! You tripped Dorian and sent him falling into a thorn bush when you two were walking in HOF. You fucking judgemental asshole, I cannot believe I ever liked you.

Aedion’s like “b-but he was an arrogant kid” and Lysandra, being voice of reason, is like “Um, we all were as kids Aedion, including Aelin” and we litERALLY GET THIS

“I don’t care if he was as arrogant and vain as Aelin, I don’t care if he was enslaved to a demon that took his mind. I look at him and see my family butchered, see those tracks to the river, and hear Quinn tell me that Aelin was drowned and dead.” His breathing was uneven, and his throat burned, but he ignored it.

JESUS TAP DANCING CHRIST. Okay, I’m not saying Aedion isn’t wrong to be weary of Dorian after what happened to his family at the hands of Dorian’s father but this is literally Aedion going “It’s only okay to be a dick if it’s Aelin! Everyone else is a bad ruler and should bow down to her uwu”

FUCKING HELL. I’m willing to bet if it had been Aelin mind controlled, Aedion would be jumping through hoops to justify her actions and convince everyone she couldn’t help herself. Assdion has no character outside of being a dick and kissing up Aelin’s ass. I fucking hat this character almost as much as I hate Aelin.

Aedion braced his palm against the wall again and leaned in to glower in [Lysandra’s] face. She did not yield an inch. “There is an order and rank in our court, lady, and last I checked, you were not number three. You don’t give me commands.”

(...) And the last I checked…” She poked his chest, right between his pectorals, and he could have sworn the tip of a claw pierced the skin beneath his clothes. “You weren’t pathetic enough to enforce rank to hide from being in the wrong.“

*Mortal Kombat voice* FINISH HIM

His blood sparked and thrummed. Aedion found himself taking in the sensuous curves of her mouth, now pressed thin with anger.

W.....

YOU TWO ARE ARGUING AND ASSDION SUDDENLY HAS A BONER OVER HER MOUTH. HOW THE FUCK IS THIS HEALTHY IN ANY SHAPE OR FORM. This is nearly as bad as the “kissing a spouse during an argument instead of solving the problem” trope.

By the way, Aedion is demoted to Assdion. Aelin to Alien, and Rowan to Rowboat. I hate these characters so much.

Lysandra backed away a step, too casual to be anything but a calculated move. But Aedion tried—for her sake, he tried to stop thinking about her mouth—

WHAT THE FUCK DOES SJM THINK ALL MEN ARE HORNDOGS WHO WANNA FUCK 24/7?? This is an incredibly upsetting and inaccurate stereotype! It’s not goddamn hard to not think with your dick for five seconds jfc

Too soon—she wouldn’t want a man’s touch for a long time. Maybe forever. And he’d be damned if he pushed her into it before she wanted to.

Are you sure about that? Because a minute ago you were nearly cumming at the thought of her mouth.

Subject changes and Assdion asks if his father wanted to see him.

“[Gav] nearly bit Aelin’s head off when she refused to tell him where and who you are.” Ice filled [Aedion’s] veins. If his father had been rude to her—“But I got the sense,” Lysandra quickly clarified as he tensed, “that he is the sort of male who would respect your wishes if you chose not to see him.

*sniffles* Gav deserves to be a good father.

“What would you do?” “I can’t answer that question. My own father…” She shook her head. He knew about that—the shifter-father who had either abandoned her mother or not even known she was pregnant. And then the mother who had thrown Lysandra into the street when she discovered her heritage. “Aedion, what do you want to do? Not for us, not for Terrasen, but for you.”

I would be having feels and starting to ship them had we not had a whole scene dedicated to Assdion being a dick and nearly kissing Lysandra without her consent sooooo

[Aedion] bowed his head a bit, glancing sidelong at the quiet street again. “My whole life has been … not about what I want. I don’t know how to choose those things.”

A little late there to make me feel sympathetic towards Assdion, SJM. You CANNOT have Assdion act as an Aelin worshiping prick and then turn around and expect me to feel bad for him.

Assdion asks Lysandra to come with him to meet his father the next day and then splooges about how much he apparently cares about Lysandra. I don’t care.

From the shadows of his hood, he monitored the alley ahead, the shadows and shafts of moonlight, bracing himself. They’d picked the dead-end alley for a reason. The girl realized her mistake a step too late. “Oh.”

The girl is Rolfe’s barmaid. She immediately leaves and they suspect she’s Rolfe’s spy. Finally, I am free from this god awful chapter.

#the worm talks #the worm reads: eos #anti sjm #anti tog #anti eos

15 notes · View notes

scribomaniac · 8 years ago

Text

Man of Ash and Thorns: Chapter 11

From a slaughter house to utter carnage, the club's occupants quickly realized they were not, in fact, on top of the food chain and that these strangers were of a whole different caliber. Bub went straight for the jugular, ripping out his victim's larynx and watching them with demonic glee for just a split second before placing his mouth over theirs, stopping just before physical contact, and stripping them of their souls. He was efficient and merciless, but also very humane in his executions. His brother, on the other hand, was not.

Samyaza ripped his victim's limb from limb, slowly torturing each Vampire that fell into his path one by one. First he started with the left arm, then their right. Next the right leg, then the left leg. At one point Reyna heard him laughing maniacally over in a corner of the club, hitting a cowering Vampire with their own arm, taunting, "Why're you hitting yourself? Why're you hitting yourself." Only after his victim was nothing more than a stumpy torso and wailing, begging for death, would Sam lean down and rip out his victim's soul. It was a little stomach turning for the Sorceress, but didn't stop him. This was the deal, after all.

Reyna hardly had to raise a finger to help the Devils. All she had to do was seal off the doors, magically locking them from the outside, to ensure no one escaped. None of the Vampires even turned her way in their desperate attempt attempts to escape. Given enough time, Reyna knew they would have figured a way to get out, but Bub and Sam didn't give them a moment of peace. She watched silently as Sam and Bub gorged themselves on the Vampires, her expression cool and un-bothered by what was happening. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw three Vampires flash behind the bar in the back right corner. Stalking over to them, the Sorceress peered over the bar and saw the three frantic Vampires pounding their fists against a trap door in the floor and try to pull it open in a last ditch effort to escape.

"Well, well," Reyna tilted her head to the side and clicked her tongue. "What do we have here?" The three Vampire's heads snapped up, just now noticing her presence and barred their teeth in warning. Humming, Reyna stretched out her hand and silently summoned several gasses to her loosely closed palm. She called on Hydrogen, Helium, Carbon, Nitrogen, Oxygen, and a few others, all in different amounts—specific amounts. The thing she was creating in her hand was dangerous, but she'd seen it done before so she new it could be done. Quickly her hand began to heat up, a warning sign to open her palm.

One of the Vampires lunged at her courageously, but it was too late. Reyna's palm opened and with it she unleashed hell. A small sun sat in the palm of her hand, burning furiously and brimming with barely contained elements. The Vampire directly before her never stood a chance. He barely had time to howl in pain before his body withered, his skin turning an ashy gray and flaking from his body like leaves from a tree during a tornado. Where his body should have fallen was only a heap of ash. The other two Vampires succumb to the heat of Reyna's sun as well, but tried their damnedest to run away from it's long reaching rays. Unfortunately for them, the further they ran, the longer it took for them to die. Turning to follow their escape path, Reyna watched as their skin bubbled and boiled from the heat. Their internal organs did the same. Although no one could see the internal effects of the spell, they could see the side effects. The Vampires gagged several times before purging thick, dark blood, drying themselves out until there was nothing left but a hollowed out corpse.

"Damn Reyna," Sam whistled once it was all over. Reyna saw that he was still carrying someone's arm around like a rag doll and raised her brow at him. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

Shrugging, Reyna answered truthfully and bluntly, "Dunstan."

Brows raising, Sam nodded appreciatively, "Makes sense. So what'd you find?"

"A trap door," Reyna turned back to it. "They were trying to escape through it."

"Or call for help," Bub suggested, walking around the bar and pulling on the handle to open it. It didn't budge. "The hell?" He muttered under his breath before trying again. His arm and back muscles tensed as he put all his might into opening the door, but to no success.

"Smells magicked," Sam commented lightly, moving over so he could lean on the bar and look down lazily at his brother. When he saw Bub's dirty look, he grinned, "What?"

"You could've said something before I pulled a muscle trying to open the damn thing."

"S'not my fault you've lost your edge, Bubby."

Reyna had to push down the many questions bubbling in the back of her mind—magic could smell? Since when?—and walked around to stand next to Bub who was now kneeling beside the trap door. Reaching out a hand, Reyna sent out some of her magic and wasn't surprised when she felt something blocking her. "There's definitely a spell keeping it closed," she confirmed. "A strong one, too."

"You can break it though, right?" Bub asked.

"Probably—" Before she could even try, though, a ripple of magic flooded the room and with a resounding crack, the trap door unlocked. Frowning at the floor, the Sorceress sent out her magical feelers again and hummed. "Looks like I won't have to.'

"That's weird," Sam mumbled, suddenly behind her. "But I guess that's as good an invitation we're gonna get."

Bub reached for the handle and this time met with no resistance, easily opening the door and revealing a stair case that led to a dimly lit hallway. Standing up, he looked to his partners in crime. "Ready?"

Reyna looked the two of them over. They were both covered in the dark blood of Vampires. It drenched their shirts and caked their skin. It even made Bub's blue eyes stand out in a semi-attractive way, which was very disconcerting to Reyna. When she verified that none of the blood was theirs and they wouldn't need any magical patch-ups, she nodded, "Let's go."

"Further down the rabbit whole we go," he sighed before walking down the stairs.

"What rabbit hole?" Sam asked, following immediately behind.

Bringing up the rear, Reyna shook her head, "Don't worry about it."

The stair case led to the end of a tunnel, barely illuminated with old, yellow lights. the tunnel was a straight shot and led to a door at its end. the door hissed as it opened, and Reyna wordlessly led the two Devils through it. The door led to a large room, which was most likely meant to be used as a storm shelter during hurricane season. Now though, it was being used as a prison. Reyna didn't need magic to tell that Lilith was nearby.

Once all three of them stepped through the door, it slammed shut behind them. "Welcome!" A rich, deep voice greeted them from the other side of the room. A tall, light-skinned male Vampire stood across from them, his arms stretched wide as if he were greeting long awaited friends. He looked like he'd just walked out of a fashion magazine. His head was shaved close to the scalp, full lips that were accented by dimples that made the Mississippi seem shallow. There was something about his eyes, too. They were dark brown, and held mischief and warmth in them. There was a glimpse of cleverness in them as well, just the slightest amount, but it was enough to make Reyna realize she not staring at some green horned, rebellious child.

"Welcome!" He repeated, slowly walking towards them. He smiled widely, apparently all too pleased with their presence. "I'm so glad you made it! What a night for entertainment, am I right?"

"Just shut up and hand over the fanged-bitch," Sam growled, losing patience with the Vampire. "Or ill do to you what i did to your friends upstairs."

"Huh, see, I don't think you will." He responded smugly, his smile stretching wider.

Sam took a threatening step forward, "Is that right? And who's gonna stop me?"

"That," a light, airy voice chimed in from off to the side, "would be me." A woman with wavy red hair and pale white skin stepped out from the shadows, a coy smile curling at her lips. She was young, maybe Reyna's age, and most definitely not a Vampire, although her complexion was paler than one. Reyna knew nothing aout her but couldn't stop the appreciative thoughts running through her head as she took in the girl's attire. She wore a long, flowy pale pink dress embroidered with wild flowers and adorned a golden laurel atop her head.

"The name's Adele, and this, "she gestured to the Vampire, "is my partners, Ashur. Do forgive him for not introducing himself. He's just overly excited by your presence and completely forgot his manners."

Bending low at the waist, Ashur looked at them through his dark lashes, "My sincerest apologies." The hair on the back of Reyna's neck stood on end. Ashur was charming, no doubt about that, but sincere? Reyna got the feeling that he was anything but. Standing back up to his full height, Ashur's facial expression shifted to one of apology, "Now," he said, directing his words towards Sam, "Although under normal circumstances you could beat me in a fight hands down, in this particular instance I'd highly advise against it."

Sam took a step forward, fully prepared to make Ashur eat his own words, but Reyna threw up a hand, stopping him in his tracks. Reyna could hear the angry huff of air he'd released from his nostrils, but ignored him. "Clever bit of magic you have on this building," she said conversationally to Adele. Her tone was calm, as if she were asking about the weather forecast.

Adele preened, "Liked it, did you? I'm surprised—it's not easy to impress a member of the Council of Three. Your master deemed me insignificant, after all, and look at what I've accomplished."

"She's become the Queen of New Orleans," Ashur purred, stepping behind Adele to wrap his arms around her waist and kiss her lovingly on her neck.

Brows furrowing, Reyna wondered when Adele had met Dunstan and if anything more had transpired between the two of them. Those questions could wait. "First New Orleans, next the world?"

Adele shrugged, "Something like it. Though I think Queen of the Night has a better ring to it. And of course, every queen needs a king," she cooed and stroked the back of Ashur's forearm.

Grimacing, Reyna asked, "What the hell did you do to this city? It's always been a back water cesspool, but luring tourists in—Castor tourists—that's a whole different level. You're right," Adele and Ashur perked up at that, "I am impressed. Disgusted, but impressed."

"The city has too many Supernaturals for you to have them all in your pocket," Bub continued right behind her. "The Weres, the Fae, the Vamps—hell, the Castors alone should have been able to squash . . . whatever this is."

"It's a rebellion, my friend," Ashur explained, pulling away from Adele to step closer to them. "A well executed one. The Weres? They're useless and practically defenseless without the moon—it was all too easy to push them out of the city. The Fae?" He rolled his eyes, "They don't care who's in power so long as they get to run free. And the Vamps? Well, my Adele really is a genius when it comes to magic."

"I did what you never could," Adele chimed in, lifting her chin up proudly. "Not you, not Dunstan, not even Merlin himself."

"Oh? And what was that?" Sam barked out, itching for a fight again. They all knew one was coming, but it seemed their opponents had a preference for dramatic flare, and Reyna wasn't one to start a fight without fully understanding what she was getting in to.

Ashur pulled down the collar of his grey, v-neck shirt and showed them the branded skin on his chest. "She brought me into the light."

Reyna stared hard at his chest, taking in the crude spell work. Snarling, she looked to Adele, "Vampire's aren't allowed to walk in the sun for a reason. You're not the first one to figure how to do it. You're just the first Castor dumb enough to actually do it.

Ashur's eyes turned black, the veins in his eyes protruded from his skin, and he stalked forward, "Who're you calling dumb?" He hissed, his fangs gleaming in the dull light of the room.

Adele's laugh echoed through the room, "Oh, Ashur, calm down! She's just jealous." Ashur didn't take another step forward, but he also didn't return to his position beside Adele. "Maybe if she'd figured out how to do it, Lilith wouldn't be in this mess in the first place."

"So that's how you did it?" Reyna asked, not taking her eyes off Ashur. "You ambushed her in the day? What?" She scoffed, "Too scared to try it when she was able to fight back?"

"And have her threaten suicide unless we backed down?" It was Adele's turn to scoff. "No, that was a risk we couldn't take. We need her, after all—even if her stupid rumor is false."

"She's our trophy now. Proof that the new regime has begun!" Ashur grinned, feral like.

"That's sick," Reyna sneered.

"And the Castors?" Bub asked, almost out of the blue. Everyone turned to look at him. "How did you defeat the Castors here? They're notorious for their strength."

Adele hummed, looking more preoccupied with picking invisible lint from her dress than answering Bub's questions. "Do you know how the Castor's magic works down here?"

Sam growled, annoyed by the question. Bub, though, answered straight, "It's Ancestral Magic. They gain power from their deceased ancestors. It's what makes them so powerful."

"That's true," Adele agreed easily. "But it's what also makes them so weak."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Sam growled.

"It means their magic's bound," Reyna explained, "to the burial place of those ancestors."

"Yup!" Adele chirped and clapped her hands together. "If they get beyond a certain distance of their family graveyard, their magic will disappear. They're cut off. Flat Line. Dead on Arr—"

"We get it," Reyna crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.

"Too bad they didn't. They also didn't guard those graves all too well."

Ashur snorted and added, "All all, you mean."

Adele nodded, almost mournfully, "You'd think, wouldn't you, that if all your magic was tethered to one sport, you'd maybe protect it a little better."

"What did you do?" Reyna asked, her brows furrowing with concern, her arms dropping to her sides.

"We went grave robbing," Ashur's smirk was so sharp it looked like it'd cut glass. "And visited a member of every single family with Castor history—"

"—And borrowed a bone," Adele finished, a matching smirk on her face. She walked up to Ashur and linked her right arm though his left. They were now so close to Reyna that she could see the light sprinkling of freckles across Adele's nose and cheek bones. "Did a little spell work," she wiggled her fingers, "and voila! No spell is spoken, no potion brewed, no enchantment cast without my knowledge—or consent."

"And if they don't get your approval?" Bub asked darkly.

Ashur patted the spot on his chest where the gruesome mark that allowed him to survive the sun was, "Then I remind them of our rules—no magic without approval."

"You were right, Reyna," Adele nodded to her, "when I came here this place was a cesspool. A lawless land without civilization, but now . . . we're here."

"And you've, what? Brought order to New Orleans?"

"We've brought them into the light."

"You know I won't let you get away with this." Reyna rolled her shoulders back, standing straight as a pole. Her hands curled into fists so tight she could feel her nails biting into the skin of her palms. "Your reign ends here."

"Oh, I was so hoping you'd say that," Adele said, breathless. "You see, I've been wanting to test my skills. See how strong I'd become . . .and what a better way than to challenge the famous Sorceress Reyna?"

"You want to fight me?" Reyna asked, needing to clarify. The red head nodded. Sam stifled a snorted laugh in the background, making sure everyone knew what he thought of Adele's chances. "A Castors duel—to the death?" Again, she nodded, looking all too happy for someone about to face their possible end. "You're sure?" Reyna asked again, giving the girl one last chance to back out.

"Yes, Reyna. You're not afraid, are you?" Adele taunted, "You're lapdogs won't be able to interfere. You'll be all on your own."

Glancing over her shoulder at both Sam and Bub, she silently nodded to each of them, confirming that they weren't to interfere with the fight. "All right," Reyna raised her gaze back to Adele. "To the death it is, then."