42. The Battle for Liora and Kaida
Chapter 42
The Battle for Liora and Kaida
M ojave Camp Ground Zero
April 19, 2018
(2 Days Before Death)
Nzinga!
Charmaine watched the twins vanish into the bunker tent with their uncle, the man who called himself the professor. But Nzinga slipped away in silence. Charmaine’s telepathic burst halted Nzinga in her tracks. Nzinga stood rigid, facing away, tension brimmed between them. Charmaine’s eyes narrowed; did this young warrior truly think she could defy her?
Even with her powers dimmed, Charmaine retained strength from Liora’s legacy. She took a step forward, fists clenched, ready for whatever came next.
Outside, Greenlee observed the confrontation with conspiratorial eyes. Charmaine caught her staring and noted the lack of intervention before the matriarch turned away—Greenlee had left Nzinga to face this alone. Charmaine’s resolve deepened. Nzinga! Your mother and protector are gone. Face me.
At last, Nzinga turned, her smile tight and cold. “Please, my Guardian,” she replied, voice low. “You’re not safe here. Go with the others.”
Charmaine’s laugh was brittle. Do you think you can command me? She cut a glance down, taunting. Not long ago, I lifted my pinky just to help you stand.
“How do you feel now, Guardian? Can you lift a pinky?” Nzinga’s defiance shone.
Around them, alarms blared as the First People fortified their camp against an unseen threat. Charmaine felt the dawn creeping in and with it, an ominous drain on her power. Tristano would be vulnerable if she didn’t act soon—and so would she.
Her patience broke. Charmaine thrust her hand out, telekinetic energy yanked Nzinga aside, into the shadows near the tent. The camp’s chaos drowned out their words, so Charmaine pressed straight into Nzinga’s mind. What’s happening to me here?
Nzinga’s face tightened, resisting. Charmaine pushed harder. ANSWER ME.
“I don’t understand, Guardian. Please?—”
Charmaine’s control deepened. Shadows gathered as she summoned the dregs of her power, intensifying her mental grip. You can’t hide the truth from me. The barrier—what is it? How do I bring it down?
Nzinga’s eyes widened, her mental defenses buckling under Charmaine’s relentless push.
If I must find it myself, Charmaine’s voice echoed in Nzinga’s mind, laced with menace, I’ll bring this camp to ruin. And you, Nzinga—I’ll save you for last. Remember who I am. Remember that I once spared you. Don’t make me regret mercy.
The force field loomed before them, tall and unyielding, its supernatural energy pressed down on the trio like a heavy, suffocating blanket. They stood at the edge of its dominance, each of them felt the strain, the weight of the ancient magic that pulsated throughout the air.
“What do you think this is?” Tristan asked Sonya, the guardian.
“It feels…wrong.”
“No shit,” mumbled Tristan.
“Its origin smells of the realm,” Sonya replied. Her eyes narrowed as she assessed the barrier. “But it can’t be. Even these fools wouldn’t comprehend the usefulness of that kind of magic.”
“Are you sure?” Tristan pressed. “They understood enough to bring you back.”
Sonya’s brow furrowed. Frustration and suspicion met Tristan’s gaze. “I know they can wield it, but understanding it? There has to be some kind of connection…some link to the cosmic energy that fuels it with—I don’t know who.”
Shakespeare’s eyes bore into her. A hunger there that made her nervous and excited. She focused instead on Tristan.
“There is a connection,” Sonya said. Her eyes stretched with realization. “It’s to you.”
“What? Me?” Tristan recoiled, confused he was ready to launch a counterargument.
“Not just you. Your Draca—or better yet, the Supreme Draca, a direct descendant,” she clarified.
“That makes little sense. Vittorio and the brothers are the only ones that close to that power, and neither would help these idiots destroy everything they’ve built,” Tristan argued.
Sonya held his gaze, her voice steady and deliberate. “You’ve studied us, priest. This magic is from the realm. Only someone connected to cosmic energy could make it strong enough to be impenetrable. Not even the twins, who are infants in their power, could wield such knowledge. Somewhere in your coven, there is a betrayer. Either it’s the brothers, or…”
“Phoenix,” Shakespeare interjected. His voice was cold and certain.
“Never,” Tristan said.
Sonya dared to look at Shakespeare, who had stepped closer. She took a small step back, but his words lingered and unsettled her. She had felt Phoenix's ancient wisdom in the way he handled her. There was a cold shrewdness to him.
“Think about it,” Shakespeare continued. “Who has the power and cunning to do this, yet isn’t affected by any of it? Remember, Vittorio did not create Phoenix. We’ve never really understood his history.”
“Phoenix lives by a code,” Tristan countered, his tone filled with conviction. “I believe Vittorio created him. That is what we are taught.”
Shakespeare rolled his eyes. “That’s because you suck his dick with worship?—”
“He’s more disciplined than any supernatural, living or dead. What does he gain by Vittorio’s death or by the death of us all? He would never do this. He could never do it,” Tristan reasoned.
“Phoenix was created by the head of the Senate and gifted to Vittorio. He’s a magistrate. This goes to hell. The brothers all die—we and everyone created by them die. Except Phoenix. He is the one the Supreme Draca would be left to choose. To take on as a host. That is what I think,” Shakespeare said through clenched teeth.
Sonya’s gaze hardened as she pushed her calmness on them both and cut through their debate. “It doesn’t matter who’s behind this. We can’t solve that now. We need to figure out how to get past it. Look at the horizon—the morning sun will come for you. Add the energy of this barrier draining us, and you could die out here.”
The two vampires exchanged a grim look before Tristan was the first to ascend. His powerful form cut through the night as he soared up into the sky. Sonya watched him climb to impossible heights, but she felt Shakespeare’s gaze. It burned her skin, and her soul with needful desires. When she lowered her eyes to meet his, she saw the intensity there, the determination, and something else—something that made her heart melt.
If she didn’t act, he would touch her, and she knew she’d lose herself to him as he had to her. His persistence was maddening, but she couldn’t deny the bond between them.
I need you to help me; she pleaded in her silent manner. If you want me, then help me save the sisters. After that, I belong to this world. I won’t fight you. I won’t resist what you’re feeling. I’m yours. I swear it.
Shakespeare’s lips curved into a smile, as if she had just spoken sacred vows. Without a word, he ascended and joined Tristan in the sky. They soared higher and higher, their forms becoming mere silhouettes against the night, until they reached the zenith—and froze. The force field extended even beyond their reach, shimmering with a dark, impenetrable power.
The realization hit the vampires all at once—their combined strength might not be enough. The morning sun was coming.
A single tear slipped down Nzinga’s cheek, a tribute to the internal battle that raged within her. Charmaine’s probe dug deeper, and there it was—the warrior’s vulnerability—Greenlee. It was like the bond shared between mother and child. It was a love that softened Nzinga’s heart, that made her hesitate in this moment of crisis to defend herself alone.
Nzinga’s resolve finally shattered under the weight of Charmaine’s power. The last of her mental defenses crumbled, and she crumbled. The truth spilled out in a flood of images and thoughts. Charmaine saw it clearly now—a gem from her mother guardian’s crown, hidden deep within the camp. Aries, their sister had stolen it a long time ago. Liora and Kaida confronted her but Aries denied the theft. They never understood why their sister would lie or steal. It made no sense. How the hell the First People got their hands on it was a great mystery. Its magic is rooted in the lore of the Chosen but infused with ancient Egyptian sorcery. She learned more from Nzina. The gem was encased in a golden bug and its power repurposed. The Scarab of Sekhmet —a relic said to channel the destructive darkness used as a defense by the goddess herself—was the source of the barrier to all other supernatural energy. And it had awakened. It now fed off of the supernatural’s near it. With the twins and Charmaine in the camp and the vamps and her sister outside the camp, the scarab gained power—their power.
The scarab was not just a defensive measure worn by great pharaohs and queens of Africa to protect their people; it was a weapon, one that might annihilate her, Sonya and Darlene and Dolly. It must have had a chip of it removed to be put in the talisman the professor used to repel Darlene on the back of the truck. These idiots did not know the nuclear catastrophe they could incite with it.
With a final, crushing mental push, Charmaine forced Nzinga to reveal the location of the artifact. The warrior’s eyes rolled back as the information flowed freely—an underground chamber beneath the central tent. The scarab rested on an obsidian pedestal. It glowed with the power it was gaining from the twins’ presence in the camp and called for the sun to rise.
“Thank you,” Charmaine whispered in relief. Tristano, the Vampire Priest would have perished if he were in the same room with the thing but trapped outside of it he was certain to die.
The warrior Nzinga collapsed against the tent, her breath escaped in ragged gasps, tears streaming freely now. It dawned on Charmaine that getting the information about this was far too easy. Why wasn’t the scarab guarded? Why did the First People ignore her and Nzinga slipping away from the group? All were questions when she stepped forward and was seized by a trap.
“This is insane,” Shakespeare said. He now hovered at Tristan’s left side. They looked on as a plane went through the membrane of the force field, undeterred.
“It passed through,” Tristan said. “So, this is just for us. They knew we were coming.”
Shakespeare barely listened. Mating with Sonya had him drunk and in love. Tristan knew the symptoms. It reminded him of why Lucio kept seeking to fuck and drink from both Dolly and Darlene, no matter the peril. It was certainly their curse, but it felt greater than love.
“Focus,” Tristan said.
Shakespeare's gaze lifted.
“If the plane went through it, then the car should be able to. Think about it,” Tristan said.
“How does that help us? We’ll just incinerate when we try to pass through,” mumbled Shakespeare.
“Maybe, or maybe we can use the light from Sonya to bring us in. Send the car through the barrier and have her cover us.”
Shakespeare frowned. “That’s dangerous, isn’t it? I mean, she will have to touch us both at the same time. Take on both of our pain. And she’s weak like us. Her suffering would be immense. It could… kill her.”
“She’s the Defender of Pain! You fucking moron. She’s supposed to live in hurt and die for the cause!” Tristan said, now beyond desperate to get to Charmaine. She, Liora, was his true purpose. He’d sacrifice anything and anyone to have her.
Shakespeare flew at him and seized him by the throat. Tristan did not fight back. “Don’t you ever speak about her death that way! I don’t give a fuck about any of this shit. Do you understand me? I’ll meet the sun and force you to do it too if it means she stays safe!”
Tristan threw Shakespeare off of him.
“Don’t you see what’s happening to us? We’re losing it. Neither of us can think straight. This is why the guardians sought us out. How you feel about her is how I feel about Liora, and it’s clouding our judgment. We’ll do anything to serve them. We’re servants to them now. Slaves. We’ve traded one master for another. Except this time the rewards are just a little sweeter. It’s bullshit! Don’t you see it!” Tristan shouted.
“All I know is she gave me life. I’m not Shakespeare, I’m Beaux—again.”
“Your Draca is in you. It’s there. And it will take her when it wakes and realizes what she’s done. It’ll use you to take her. So, stop with the puppy love games. We need to focus on getting inside. And if that means she must bring us in, then she has to do it. Or we all die,” Tristan said.
Shakespeare grimaced.
Tristan went back down to deliver the news. Shakespeare had no choice but to follow.