Chapter 8 Amari
AMARI
Istand in my office, arms crossed, watching the door. My desk sits in the center, covered in papers and holographic displays I haven’t had the energy to deal with.
The first to arrive are Damon and Selene. He carries a stack of old leather-bound books. She wears full combat gear—knives at her thighs, guns at her waist. Her hand rests on one blade.
“Damon. Selene.” I nod to each of them.
Damon drops the books on my desk. Then he crosses to Selene. His hand goes to her belly before he kisses her.
I watch them, unable to look away. Even with everything they’ve been through, they still find time for each other. Still find moments to connect. To touch. To remind each other why they’re fighting.
When was the last time Carla and I had that? When was the last time we just existed together without the weight of the world pressing down on us?
Three days. She was gone three days, and I felt like I was dying.
I force my attention to the books, breaking the spiral of my thoughts. “What’s all this?”
“Found as much documented information about limbo as I could.” Damon’s face is grim. “But not much on Nathaniel. And there’s something I haven’t told you about.”
My eyebrows rise. “Oh really...”
Before he can continue, Amir and Anora are suddenly there, standing in the center of the room.
Damon and I bow. Even I tip my head in acknowledgment, respecting the vampire who rules over us all.
Except Selene. She stands straight as an arrow, hand still on her blade.
Amir looks at her, recognition flickering across his features. He bows his head first. She returns the gesture.
“I’m not keen on leaving Solomon alone for long, especially with him being a target.”
Kade and Leah teleport into the room, a black mystical cloud of smoke fading around them. Kade runs to Amir like a child, her face lighting up in pure joy. She plants a kiss on his cheek, standing on her toes to reach him.
His face transforms. The king disappears, replaced by a father. Softens in a way I rarely see. “Hey, we don’t try to get together as much as we used to. I miss you.”
“Well, you know Wintermoon. Always keeps me on my toes.” Kade grins up at him.
Amir places his hand over her head, rubbing it the way a father would with his child.
His fingers are gentle, affectionate. Because that’s who she is to him.
The sight warms something in me. This king who carries so much weight, the fate of all supernatural kind on his shoulders, still finding joy in these small moments. Still being a father.
I want that with Carla. Want moments of peace between the chaos.
Leah glances around the room, her eyes scanning each face. “Where’s Angie?”
A portal opens before anyone can answer.
Blue and gold hues spill into my office.
Inside, I glimpse their cabin at House of Zorah.
Warm wood. Soft fabrics. A fire burning in the hearth.
Jacob walks through first, his bare feet silent on my floor.
Then Angie follows, her magic crackling around her fingertips. The portal snaps shut behind them.
They’re both wearing matching flannel pajamas. Red and black plaid. Domestic. Normal. Like they weren’t just pulled from their evening routine to deal with the end of the world.
“I’m here, so what’s the issue?” Angie’s voice is sharp with irritation.
Moria suddenly drops from the vent above, her legs extended like spears, ready to attack. She lands between Angie and everyone else. Her body coils, preparing to strike.
Angie hisses at her, baring her teeth. Moria hisses back, her mandibles clicking.
I look down at my daughter, exasperation mixing with affection. “Moria honey, this is not the time to get into it with Angie.”
Another hiss. Sharper this time. More insistent. Her legs scrape against my floor.
“Moria, I’m not going to ask you again.” I put authority in my voice.
She skitters off, disappearing back into the vents with a disgruntled chittering sound.
But then the wall shudders. The pictures hanging there rattle.
Tofi squeezes through the doorway in her larger form, her massive body barely fitting.
She brushes against supernaturals who quickly step aside.
She doesn’t care who she bumps into or how uncomfortable she makes them. She just needs to get close to me.
One of her bristly legs brushes against Angie’s bare arm.
“Goddamn it!” Angie jerks back like she’s been burned, glaring at Tofi with pure hatred.
Amir grins. Actually grins. He’s enjoying this, watching Angie’s discomfort with unconcealed amusement.
Jacob wraps an arm around Angie, pulling her close and away from Tofi. She melts into him slightly, her body relaxing.
Tofi comes around the desk and stands next to me, her presence solid and comforting.
I smile despite everything, despite the fear gnawing at my insides, despite the knowledge that Carla might disappear again at any moment.
I gently pat Tofi’s head, my hand barely covering a fraction of her.
“You can stay honey, but you have to behave. Understand?”
She nods in that distinctly spider way, her whole body dipping forward in acknowledgment.
“Well, we’re all here.” Angie crosses her arms. “What’s the issue?”
Aya appears in the corner like smoke taking form. Translucent. Flickering. Dead but not gone.
Angie, Anora, Kade, Amir, and Jacob all stiffen. Their faces shift from curious to hostile in an instant. Selene looks to Damon, confusion in her eyes. His eyebrows rise in surprise, but there’s recognition there too.
“No worries, I’m not looking for some grand welcoming.” Aya’s voice drips with sarcasm.
Angie points at the Aya, her finger shaking slightly. “What the hell is she doing here?”
“I’m your savior.”
“No the fuck you’re not.” Angie looks at Tofi, her expression shifting to confusion. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be dealing with these limbo ghosts?”
Tofi doesn’t respond. Doesn’t even acknowledge the question. Just stands there beside me, solid and unmoving.
Amir approaches Aya slowly. His hands clasp behind his back. “Why wouldn’t I expect you to be involved in this? You’ve always selfishly thought of yourself first.”
“This is not my work.”
“Oh, how so?” His voice shifts to something cold. “Just like when you killed dozens of innocent women and children from the dragon clans?”
Aya opens her mouth, but Amir doesn’t let her speak.
“Or was it the time you started having humans kill shifters so you could turn their children into your own personal army?” He takes another step closer, invading her space even though she’s incorporeal.
“Or was it when you gave Brookstone and Blackburn your magic before you died, just to make sure you won this battle even in your death?”
Aya falls silent. For once in her entire existence, the witch has nothing to say. No clever retort. No justification.
Movement at the door draws everyone’s attention.
The conversation stops mid-breath. Carla stands in the doorway wearing a beautiful blue dress that clings to her curves in all the right places.
The color makes her brown skin glow. Her curls are still damp from the shower, falling around her shoulders.
Amir goes quiet. Turns fully to face her. Bows his head in genuine respect. “Thank you, Carla. I don’t know what I would have done if something happened to my son.”
His voice cracks slightly on the word “son.” This ancient king, this powerful vampire, reduced to a frightened father. He glares at Aya, and even in her ghostly form, I can see it. Guilt. Remorse. Emotions I never thought possible from Aya Bailey.
“Aya’s right.” Carla steps inside, her bare feet quiet on my floor. “This isn’t the work of Aya. It’s something else. Somehow, someone in limbo has access to Blackwood magic.”
Angie goes alert, her whole body tensing. “What?”
She looks to Damon. He and Selene exchange a glance that speaks volumes. They knew something. They’ve been keeping secrets.
Carla walks around the room, and comes to stand beside me. I wrap my arm around her immediately, pulling her close against my side. Her warmth seeps into me through the fabric of her dress.
“Well, it looks like your ancestors weren’t perfect either,” Aya mutters, shooting a pointed look at Angie.
“I know someone who has Blackwood magic, but he’s not in limbo.” Angie’s voice is strained. “His name is Henry. He ran the agency Selene was born into. Who is this figure in limbo with the magic?”
“It’s Nathaniel.” Aya’s form flickers. “I know exactly who he and the Henry you speak of are.”
Angie glares at her, blue magic sparking around her fingertips. “And how do you know that?”
Aya smirks, and the expression is chilling. “How do you think I was able to track down so many Blackwood witches and kill them? You had betrayal oozing from your own line.”
Angie’s face falls. The color drains from her cheeks.
Anora looks to Amir. He’s glaring at Damon and Selene. “You knew about this threat and said nothing.”
“Hold on, Amir.” Angie steps forward. “Before you start pointing fingers, you need to be angry at me. I’m the one who told them not to say anything.”
Damon holds his head down, guilt written across his features. But Selene doesn’t. Her chin lifts, shoulders back, ready to defend her mate against anyone. Even a king.
Angie moves from Jacob’s embrace with a heavy sigh. Magic spills from her fingers like water, blue and gold threads weaving through the air. A projection screen appears, hovering in the center of the room and glowing with ethereal light.
An image appears. A man with deep mahogany skin and sculpted features that speak of both strength and cruelty. His eyes are cold, calculating. Dead. There’s no warmth in them, no humanity left.
“This is Henry.” Angie’s voice is steady, matter-of-fact. “He took an oath with the Blackwood witches centuries ago. Protected our assets. Our knowledge. Our bloodline. But when he realized all the witches were dead thanks to Aya, he started misusing the gifts given to him.”
“Nathaniel is Henry’s older brother.” Aya’s ghostly form drifts closer to the projection, studying the image like she’s remembering. “The Blackwood witches came to him first. His birth name was Nasir. He is of Moorish descent.”
I gasp. My eyes snap to Amir, whose face has gone completely still. Stone. Unreadable.
“They were assimilating to European culture and started changing their names.” Aya continues.
“When they offered Nasir the magic, he took it eagerly. But then I came along and offered him even more power. Promised him things the Blackwood witches never would. He started helping me hunt them down. Kill them. One by one.”
I feel Carla shiver against me.
“They banished him to limbo when they discovered the betrayal, but the magic they gave him stuck with him. Bound to his soul.” Aya looks at Angie, and there’s something almost like pity in her expression.
“You’re bound by the same laws I was. What you give, you cannot take back.
It has to be given back willingly. So now you have two villains walking around with your magic.
Two men with the power to destroy everything you love. ”
“Yeah, I know that shit already.” Angie’s hands curl into fists.
Carla and Anora both turn to Angie. Carla speaks first, her voice quiet but steady. “Why didn’t you say anything to us about Henry?”
“I didn’t think he was that big of a threat.” Angie’s shoulders tense, defensive. “Damon and Selene have been actively looking for him for months, and he’s been completely off the radar. Like he doesn’t exist.”
“Until now.” Carla’s voice drops. “One of the doors to the living in Nathaniel’s room opened to Brookstone and Blackburn.”
The room goes silent.
“So what do we do?” Anora’s hand moves to her stomach, protective. Maternal. Frightened.
“That’s where I come into play.” Aya drifts closer, her form solidifying slightly. “I know Nathaniel. I know how he thinks. How he plans. How he kills.”
She looks at Tofi and frowns. Then forces a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “First, we need to dismantle that army in limbo he’s building.”
“And how do we do that?” Carla’s body tenses against mine.
Aya points at Tofi. “They’ll need to work overtime.”
She means all the children. Every single one of Carla’s spider spider children fighting an endless war in the void. My hand on Carla’s waist grips harder.
“Then we need to get some barriers up. I may not be able to read or cast spells anymore, but I have enough knowledge to show you all how to do it.”
Amir walks up to his sister slowly. Stops directly in front of her ghostly form. “And what’s in this for you? I know you aren’t helping out of the goodness of your heart. You don’t have a heart.”
Aya just smirks. “Mother Fate said if I save Wintermoon, I can come home.”
Amir smirks back, cold and humorless. “Looks like we’ve got some planning to do.
” He pauses, his expression darkening. “But make sure you take what she says with a grain of salt. She’ll give you a lot of truths, but there’s always fine print.
Always. She’s got something up her sleeve, and I know it. ”
I look down at Carla. Pull her closer, feeling her heartbeat against my side. She didn’t leave of her own will. Fate pulled her to limbo. Yanked her away while I stood helpless.
Now the question remains. How long before Fate permanently takes her from me?
And will I be able to handle it when she does?
The answer terrifies me. Because I already know. I won’t survive losing her. Not again. Not permanently.