Chapter 31 #2
The expression on Layden’s face—god. It’s naked longing. He looks like he wants to reach out, stop her grandfather, pull her into his arms and never let go.
But then she’s gone, shuffled off down another corridor. Probably to whatever underground bunker Vlad has no interest in sharing with the rest of us mere mortals and angels.
“Phoenix!” Sabra calls after her, but it’s useless. The vampire’s already around the corner. “We’re going to need you to contain them again!”
Phoenix doesn’t say anything, just lifts one hand in acknowledgment before she disappears.
My chest is still constricted, lungs tight with anxiety. Does that hand wave mean she thinks it’ll work? That these big interdimensional energy-eating creatures will actually save us from nuclear disaster?
Or was it just a goodbye?
“Layden.” Kharon’s demand cuts through the murmur of worried voices. “Update.”
“There’s nothing.” Layden’s thumbs move faster across his screen, swiping and tapping with increasing desperation. “Just people freaking out about the warnings going off everywhere. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.”
The two babies start crying—high, piercing wails that make everyone wince. The sound of infant terror is primal, cutting through every other noise.
Kharon starts pacing down the hall, a caged predator with nowhere to direct his violence. “We can’t stay here.”
“Wait a second.” Layden doesn’t look up from his phone. “Just wait a second.”
“We might not have seconds!” Kharon’s yell makes me flinch. The two dots on his neck where Vlad bit him are still dripping blood, dark drops spattering his shirt. He looks at his wife, then at the baby she’s clutching. “Maybe Luna and I can open another portal. Somewhere we can hide?”
“Wait!” Layden’s shout is triumphant. Actually triumphant. “Here!”
“Here, what?” Remus growls. He’s so tense beside me his body feels like marble. Like if I touched him, my hand would crack against solid stone.
“It’s happening!” Layden laughs—actually laughs, the sound slightly unhinged.
“What?” Remus starts, but Layden shoves his phone toward us.
I squint at the grainy footage on the small screen. The image quality is terrible, obviously shot on someone’s cell phone from a distance. But the shape is unmistakable—one of those sky-whale creatures, semi-translucent and enormous.
It’s just hard to make out what it’s doing exactly—
“What is it doing?” I ask, tilting my head sideways like that’ll help me understand better.
It sort of looks like the whale creature is just... sitting on top of a building? Except now, instead of being translucent like they were in the sky, it’s lit up from the inside. Glowing. Like someone stuffed a hundred thousand lightbulbs into its belly and flipped the switch.
“Eating.” Layden’s laugh sounds punch-drunk, delirious with relief. He snatches the phone back, his fingers flying as he pulls up another video. Then another. Each one showing a different whale-creature doing the same thing—perched on buildings, glowing from within with absorbed energy.
“They’re everywhere,” he says, still giddy.
“He’s right.” Sabra sounds disbelieving.
She’s staring at her own phone, thumb scrolling constantly.
“The news is picking it up now. ‘Unknown entities seen attacking nuclear sites in Russia, China, US, Europe.’“ She reads directly from whatever article she’s found. “Some countries actually launched missiles, but they were swallowed by the creatures midair.” Her voice gets higher. “I mean, no one realizes that’s what’s happening.
They’re just saying ‘averted missile launches.’ Oh my god, I can’t believe it actually worked. ”
She keeps scrolling, and a few moments later breathes out: “Damn, they’re fast, too. They must’ve been really hungry.”
“Great.” Hannah’s voice cuts through the relief, sharp with worry. She’s bouncing her crying daughter on her hip, trying to soothe her. “So where is Abaddon, and why isn’t he back yet?”
Kharon looks at her sympathetically, and it’s startling to see that expression on his usually impassive face. “He will want to ensure you are safe even if it means lingering in the sky and stopping any missiles headed your way himself.”
With his bare hands, I think. Because apparently that’s just something these guys can do.
Hannah stomps impatiently, then starts pacing down the hall. “Everything’s going to be okay, baby,” she murmurs to her daughter, her voice cracking slightly. “Daddy will be back any moment.”
“Come on.” Sabra waves toward an open doorway. “There’s a TV in here. I’ll put it on the BBC.”
We all follow like sheep, desperate for more information. For confirmation that we’re not about to die in nuclear fire.
It feels surreal to just be watching the news with my big monster boyfriend—god, is that what Remus is now? My boyfriend? After everything that just happened?—but I’m grateful he’s by my side for once and not out there in the action. Not flying into danger while I wait and worry.
Sabra finds the remote and turns on the gigantic TV mounted on the wall. She flicks through channels until she finds one in English. I’m not sure if it’s actually the BBC, but there are definitely British newscasters sitting behind a desk, looking shell-shocked.
“Reports continue to flood in from all corners of the globe of the strange creatures.” The male newscaster’s professional composure is slipping.
“Initial reports indicate they are not attacking but rather somehow feeding off of nuclear material. No attempts to speak with the creatures have yielded any response. One attempt to fire on a creature only resulted in an explosion at a nuclear facility that should have been catastrophic, but...” He looks down at his notes like he can’t believe what he’s reading.
“But no injuries were reported. You have to see it to believe it.”
The shot switches from the news desk to footage—similar to what we saw on Layden’s phone but higher quality.
A Devourer surrounds what looks like a nuclear facility, its massive translucent body wrapped around the building like a cocoon.
You can see the flash of a missile being fired at it, the bright trail of light as it streaks toward the creature.
But instead of an explosion, instead of destruction, the missile just... disappears. Absorbed into the Devourer’s body, which glows brighter and brighter with each passing second, pulsing with stolen energy.
“Governments are urging citizens to shelter in place at this time until we know more,” the newscast continues.
We sit glued to the TV for what feels like hours but is probably only thirty minutes.
The news cycles through the same information over and over—footage of Devourers at nuclear sites around the world, government officials urging calm while experts and conspiracy theorists alike speculate wildly about what these creatures are. Aliens are the most popular theory.
Layden adds commentary whenever the news starts repeating itself, explaining details about radiation and nuclear energy that mostly go over my head. I’m too busy trying to process that interdimensional whale-jellyfish-creatures are currently saving the world from nuclear annihilation.
My life has gotten so weird lately.
About ten minutes in, Sabra starts asking the questions nobody wants to hear. “This is great and all.” Her tone suggests it’s anything but great. “But what about when they’ve finished with the nuclear energy? These things go for the most nutrient-rich sources of power first, but then they move on.”
She looks around at the assembled group. “Fossil fuels will be next. We’ve got to figure out how the hell we’re going to get rid of them.”
The room goes quiet. Even the babies have stopped crying, worn out from all the stress.
“Get Phoenix.” Kharon’s statement is simple, direct. The voice of someone used to giving orders and having them followed. “She brought them. She can send them home.”
Sabra turns to look at him, and I can see her weighing how to deliver bad news to a creature who could probably snap her in half without trying. “She can’t, actually.” Her voice is gentle but firm. “We can’t use the same kind of summoning circle to send them back as we used to bring them.”
“Why not?” Kharon’s tone suggests he’s not accepting that answer.
“Because it’s not built for that.” Sabra stands up, and I’m simultaneously impressed and terrified by her courage as she gets in Kharon’s face. She’s literally half his height, but she doesn’t back down. “Well, it was, until Grandpa Vlad went off script and used your blood to supercharge Phoenix.”
Kharon glowers down at her. “What difference does that make?”
“All the difference, actually.” Sabra’s eyes flash. “You’re the plane-crosser. Can’t you take them back to where they came from?”
Kharon’s mouth actually drops open. He stares at Sabra like she just suggested he could fly to the moon by flapping his arms. “It doesn’t work like that!” His shout makes everyone jump. “I can only cross to the deathly plane.”
But Sabra just shakes her head, undeterred. “I doubt it. Have you even tried going to other planes?”
Kharon scoffs, and there’s genuine anger in the sound now. “Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do. What do you know of me? My father explained my role to me—”
“So just because your dad said you could only go to the human death plane, that’s the only place you ever tried?
” Sabra sounds distinctly unimpressed. “I’ve never heard of a plane-crosser who can only cross to a single plane.
It’s far more likely that was just the first plane you crossed to, and then you stopped looking because you thought that was all there was. ”
Kharon opens his mouth to argue—
Sabra holds up a hand, cutting him off. “The fact that Vlad drinking your blood helped boost Phoenix’s power to bring the Devourers over is proof. If your daughter has inherited any of your powers, I bet she’ll be able to travel to more than just the one plane you regularly go to.”
Kharon and Ksenia exchange a look. A long, complicated look full of things I don’t understand.
But I remember the helicopter ride from Russia.
I remember watching their newborn baby—tiny, helpless Luna—do something impossible.
Something that makes everyone in the room who was on that insane helicopter ride through the mirror in the sky into a realm that was nothing like this one suddenly go very, very quiet.
I suppress a shudder and don’t quite manage it. Remus’s hand finds mine, squeezes.
“Fine.” Kharon forces the word through gritted teeth. “But if I can’t access that power, it still doesn’t help us, does it?”
Sabra breathes out slowly, looking around like she’s hoping someone else will have a better idea.
“We need Phoenix. Since she reached out there once with her mind at least—to call the creatures here—maybe she’ll be able to help you.
..” She waves a hand vaguely. “I don’t know, connect with it?
Maybe together, the two of you can figure out how to cross to their plane.
Get them back once they’re done eating up all the nuclear power on this planet before they move on to all the other energy sources we have left on Earth. ”
The weight of that settles over the room. The temporary reprieve we just got—saved from nuclear war by interdimensional creatures—comes with an expiration date.
“I don’t think Earth is the immediate problem.” Ksenia’s quiet voice cuts through the tension.
Everyone’s head swivels toward her. She’s sitting on the couch, calmly breastfeeding her daughter like we’re not discussing the end of the world. Again.
“What do you mean?” Sabra asks.
“Look at the screen.” Ksenia nods toward the TV with her chin, both hands occupied with baby Luna.
Our heads all turn in unison, like we’re choreographed. Layden grabs the remote and turns up the volume.
“Everything that’s happened in the past hour has been absolutely unprecedented.
” The newscaster has that slightly manic energy of someone who’s been on air too long with too much breaking news.
“And this new unfolding situation continues in that vein. The creatures who have descended on many nuclear facilities across the globe appear now to be... retreating. Into space.”
The feed switches to a wide-angle view of the sky. And there—oh god, there they are. The Devourers, glowing from within like bioluminescent deep-sea creatures, forming a long never-ending line that stretches up and up and up into the atmosphere.
“Space?” Kharon sounds genuinely confused.
“Oh my god.” Layden breathes it out like a prayer or a curse.
“What?” I lean forward, trying to understand what I’m seeing. “Why are they going to space? It’s not like they’re actual aliens.”
Ksenia—somehow the calmest person in the room despite holding an interdimensional baby—fills us in. “There’s still one more excellent source of radioactive material on this plane of existence.”
She pauses, and I realize she’s letting us figure it out ourselves.
My stomach drops as understanding hits.
“The sun,” I whisper.
“The sun,” Ksenia confirms.
We all stare at the screen, watching the Devourers swim through the sky toward our solar system’s greatest source of nuclear energy.
If they devour the sun… we’ll all die anyway. And so will every living thing on earth.