Chapter 21
Savannah’s heart ripped into jagged pieces as both Mantus and Manea focused all their lethal power on Jasper, the man she loved. For a split moment, too terrified to act, she stared in horror. He fell to the ground, his lips opened in a wordless scream of agony. The burnt orange energy blast from Mantus and the blinding white light from Manea died away.
She swiveled around, anger fueling the vengeance begging to be released from within. Manea had lowered her hands, and they now emitted a stream of acrid-smelling black smoke. Instead of attacking Jasper, her eyes danced with devious mischief. Mantus continued his vicious assault. He hadn’t even noticed she had stepped away and ceased her own attack. His face was screwed up in a caricature of evil glee, complete with the laughter of a psycho-killer.
Electricity coiled deep in Savannah’s core, then raced out through her veins to every part of her body. Her vision, already 20/20, crystalized everything. Not only did she see the objects of the world, but the energy surrounding them all, circulating, billowing out to merge together in a kaleidoscope of colors and light intensities.
Closing her eyes, Savannah still saw every aspect in perfect clarity. “Come to me,” she whispered. “Come to me.”
The energies and electricity pulsing through every object, even in the particles of air, stopped for an instant, then changed course to race straight to Savannah. The initial impact threw her body back several feet but didn’t knock her down. The energies fused with her own cells, pain and love joined together, filling her, powering her to do what she was created to do—Destroy.
Rage flared, combining with the divinity within herself. A searing white light burst forth from her body in all directions, but with an especially deadly blast at the debauched god still working to kill Jasper. Mantus didn’t even have time to brace for the impact. The light punched through his chest, leaving a gaping hole. Still, he turned, his mouth opened in a wide “O” to stare at her.
“Well done,” he mouthed just as Billy’s body collapsed to the ground.
Savannah sensed the energy being drained from her. Her knees weakened and she sank down. Just a moment ago, she could’ve nuked an entire world on her own. Now, her body barely had the strength of a new-born calf.
A hideous cackle reached her ears. “Half-goddess or not, the release of that much power at once cannot be maintained. My child, you must learn to control yourself or you’ll never be more than a one-hit wonder.”
The anger remained, but the power had fled. She was tapped out. No good to herself or anyone else, especially Jasper.
Jasper! Was he still alive? Had Mantus succeeded in killing him? A new burning sensation clawed at her chest, trying to break free.
Savannah crawled over to where Jasper lay prone on the ground. Rivulets of crimson blood ran down his beautiful face. His eyes were closed, his expression lax. Desperately, she watched his chest. She was unable to tell if it rose and fell with the effects of breathing.
Breathe, dammit, she willed him with her thoughts. Breathe!
The distance to him had seemed insurmountable, but she refused to give up. He would move Heaven and Hell for her—of this, she was certain. She vowed to do the same.
There it was! Just the slightest, most minuscule movement of his chest. Savannah’s heart rejoiced. He was alive—for now. There was no doubt in her mind that Manea would remedy that as quickly as possible.
She scooted the remaining distance on her elbows and knees. Collapsing beside him, it was impossible not to marvel at the beauty of his face. Even in this state, Jasper was truly heavenly. Surely, he could survive anything. But he was so… still.
“Please, open your eyes! Jasper! Open your eyes! Don’t you dare die on me!” Although her body felt the tormented screams, the words came out barely a whisper. Tears blurred her vision, but her hearing was just fine.
“Dear,” Manea fairly hissed, “don’t waste your time on this guardian angel.” The last two words were spoken with such vehement revulsion that it sent a shiver of resentment through Savannah. “I was the death of him once before, it’s only fitting that history repeats itself.”
Savannah broke down in sobs, fear, and pain coalescing around her into utter despair. She was going to lose Jasper, the only man she’d ever loved. Never in a million years would she have imagined the passion they’d shared. She’d dreamed of it for years, but never allowed herself to believe in it. Now that they had come so close to heaven, knowing he was lost to her was the knife that cut the thread holding back the guillotine of sorrow.
Tears ran down her cheeks, dripping off her chin and onto Jasper’s now still chest. Rivers of tears that she had held back all her life. There had been no tears when her own mother had succumbed to drug abuse and the physical abuse of every man who entered their lives; no tears when she’d been cast from foster home to foster home; no tears when she’d nearly been gang-raped by that group of hoodlums when she’d runaway.
Now, the tears wouldn’t cease. They flowed like a waterfall she’d come across when on a hike in the mountains of Colorado, like images she’d seen of foamy water crashing down miles into a turbulent lagoon.
Wait! Water! Tears are water! Salty water, but water, nonetheless.
Her lips moved of their own accord. She knew not what she said or how she knew what words to speak. They were just… there. At first, no sound came forth. Then, a whisper that barely reached her own ears. Then a smidgen louder. The volume of her voice grew exponentially with each chorus of the spell she wove. A soft breeze caressed her cheeks, tussling strands of her white hair that had long since escaped her plaid scrunchie.
Behind her, Manea shifted nervously. “What do you think you’re doing, daughter?” Hands reached for her but went through her body as if she was not there. “What the—”
Savannah’s head snapped upward to stare at the sky, the words came faster and louder, her power rushing back into her ethereal body. She wasn’t even sure what language she spoke, but it didn’t matter, because they were the right words to deal with an errant goddess. And by the panic she sensed emanating from Manea, they were doing their job well.
Now, if only I had that sacred wood…
Something nudged her mind, something trying to break through the brewing chaos into her thoughts. She pushed it away, but it only came back harder.
Billy.
It was his voice, weak and distant, but still him. Was he somehow alive despite the gaping hole she punched through Mantus’s—Billy’s—chest? She’d been so caught up in anger, fear, and vengeance she hadn’t even stopped to care if by killing the god, she would also be murdering an innocent teenage boy.
My front right pocket. Savannah, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.
Her lips still moved with vicious speed, the incantation doing its work. Her words merged with the water from her own tears, pooling on Jasper’s chest, and immobilized the goddess. The tears joined together, shimmered, and lifted into the air. A gasp from behind her was the only evidence that Manea knew exactly what was coming.
A smile crept up Savannah’s face.
Renewed strength invaded her muscles. She could do this. For Jasper, she would do this. For vengeance, too. The reason didn’t matter. The diabolic deity had to be stopped—and this time, for good.
Savannah jumped up and ran for Billy. She also mentally said a quick prayer that the maniacal god who had recently possessed him had been delivered to the underworld, or wherever dead gods went when they died.
Shoving her hand into his front pocket, her fingers found a tiny shard of wood—so small that it didn’t even cause a bulge in the denim fabric.
Manea’s shrill screams filled the air. The magic from the entrapment and containment spell wove around her in a kaleidoscope of colors. Every time her hands came near the barrier, a bolt of lightning shot out from the swirling energy to zap her.
The wood Savannah held tingled the callused skin of her palm. Tiny, jagged lines of an ultra-bright white light traveled down her arm, through her hand, and arced into the broken bit from Mama Wedgefield’s walking cane. Without conscious thought, the words of the enchantment continued to tumble from her lips.
Pushing herself back to her feet, Savannah stalked over to the outer periphery of the spiritually-fueled jail cell holding the angry—and now desperate—goddess. Smoke rose around her as Manea stubbornly continued trying to break free.
“Daughter, release me!” Manea’s eyes were wide with a black sludge oozing out of the sockets. Her arms reached out to embrace Savannah but were zapped. This time, the goddess refused to pull her arms away from the energetic prison. Bolt after bolt of electricity slammed into her, sizzling her skin and hair. An acrid, electrical buzzing filled the air.
Laughter bubbled up inside Savannah. Someday she’d attempt to evaluate what could have been funny about the situation. Two feet from her lay Jasper—possibly dead. A few more yards away lay poor, naive Billy—dead. Mama Wedgefield—also dead. Cody—most likely dead or going to die from his wounds during the stampede. There was nothing even remotely funny. Still, her laughter only grew in intensity. Perhaps it was due to her own mind checking out on her, eroding into grief-induced insanity. Perhaps she was just as batshit-crazy as her mother.
Manea’s cries turned to mere, incoherent blubbering as the energetic container around her tightened its grip. For a moment Savannah tried to find an ounce of sympathy in her but failed. Instead, a grin stretched the skin of her cheeks painfully. The shard in her hand vibrated violently until the force of its motion caused it to levitate upward. A tendril of the energy encapsulating the goddess snaked out to wrap around the wood. Another broke free of the cell and slithered over Savannah’s feet, then climbed up her body.
She’d expected to be shocked at the very least, but instead the electricity only tingled slightly. It was warm, comforting, like a cashmere blanket. The energy lifted her off the ground to lazily spin her around. Her eyes drifted closed. Her lips ceased speaking the spell. Her head fell back. The thumping of her heart slowed to near-nothing.
Must I die, too?
Unable to control anything at this point, she gave herself over to the incantation. If it required her death, too, then so be it.
The spinning sensation increased, jumpstarting her heart to beat a furious pace. Faster with every turn, the electrical binding thread from the spell pulled out Savannah’s energy. Soon, she didn’t know where she ended, and the enchantment began. They were one.
Her eyes flew open, but she only saw a white blinding light. Somehow, she knew it came from within her. Her power had merged with the dizzying tornado that imprisoned a now silent Manea—her eyes and mouth wide, her hands cupping her face in the closest depiction to Edvard Munch’s The Scream masterpiece. Jasper had been right, in a way. It was as if the goddess were melting away just as the Wicked Witch had done from The Wizard of Oz, or the evil Nazi general during the last scene of Raiders of the Lost Ark.
Despite the weakening of her own physical body, a surge of spiritual strength rose from the ground, down from the sky, and all around Savannah. Just a few more moments, and Manea would be defeated.
A million bolts of lightning zapped Savannah at once. The pain was excruciating at first but died away. She was left feeling absolutely nothing.
Moments later, her body was yanked into the swirling cell intended to capture Manea, and everything went black.