Chapter 14

My human vessel thrummed with an insane amount of energy that it was struggling to contain. No wonder Darryl had grown so addicted to feeding off mortals. The Warden had been a sadist. Instead of letting me simply syphon the inmates within their cells, he had released them one by one into the Mist for me to chase, while also dealing with the prowling Beasts.

It had suited me just fine.

Their terror as they fled through what I quickly recognized as a deliberately plotted maze had been beyond delicious. The exquisite taste of their lifeforce had given me such a hard-on, I believed I had leaked a little. While Warden Pritchett had taken Thomson to their watch tower so that he could observe us from a safe vantage point, I doubted the Director had realized there was more to this than met the eye.

The network of cameras along the maze, and the intense greed and excitement that had swirled around the Warden as he led me and the prisoners to the exit, convinced me some shady operation was ongoing. My gut said he had some kind of ‘death race’ betting going on, with customers watching the camera feed in real time.

I considered informing Thomson but thought better of it. I was having too much fun and gathering too much energy to risk some stupid moral rule ruining it for me—not to mention, I needed the power.

However, with the Warden releasing only one or two of the twenty-three condemned per round, the whole process lasted forever. By the time we were finally done, I could have eaten even Pritchett’s ugly face to silence the ferocious hunger that gnawed at my human body. I devoured my long overdue meal, frustrated to share it with these wretched humans and their inane conversations instead of with my woman because we’d been here so long. According to Thomson, I’d benefited from an unusually high number of prey. Normally, each state only held one or two executions a month. However, after his unexpected request to the Warden, Pritchett had reached out to the other penitentiaries to have them transfer their dead men walking to his institution.

I’d welcomed the bounty. Good on him if he’d made some illicit profit from it. I’d play along and keep mum as long as he continued to feed me the power I craved—and in this instance, needed.

The return to the base seemed to drag on even more than our trip to the penitentiary. Thomson attempted to make conversation a couple of times before giving up. He was a nice enough sort. Principled, honest, loyal, devoted to the cause, to his men, and to his people as a whole, Director Thomson was everything I wasn’t and would hate to be. He observed too many self-imposed, intangible boundaries. He was a smart man, but unless he wanted to discuss ways to make me more powerful or to get the upper hand on my enemy, I simply didn’t care to socialize or make small talk.

The only voice I would never tire of belonged to my mate. My blood boiled with lust and anger just at the thought of my Naima. I’d had such plans for us tonight, now that she’d consciously surrendered herself to me. But, by the time we landed, it was already past midnight, and my woman had turned in for the night.

My own vessel was struggling to keep its eyes open. Still, after Thomson locked me in my holding cell, I honored my woman’s wishes of hygiene ritual with the shower, the wretched floss and brushing, and the antiperspirant.

Before I yielded to my own need for sleep, I let my consciousness flow through my mind’s doorway into the Mist and immediately sought my woman. An angry snarl rose from my throat at the sight of the darkness surrounding the sliver of her consciousness that had crossed over. My mate was spawning a new Nightmare. A faceless evil that was stalking me this time, instead of her. Trapped inside a doorless stone house and looking out through a large window, Naima was banging on the unbreakable glass, screaming for me to watch out. Naturally, as nightmares would have it, her voice didn’t come through to the other side as my stalker closed in on me.

As the end of the Mist approached, I had felt my woman’s increasing concern for me. However, I had not realized it had grown to this extent.

I flew through the instance of her dream in my ethereal form and devoured the mindless Spark of a stalker. Gliding back towards my woman, I transformed the grim setting into the gothic bedroom we had been in the previous night.

“You are safe, my love. I am in no danger. Calm your fears, my Naima,” I whispered, extending my arms to her.

She smiled with joy and relief, then came willingly into my arms. I carried her over to the bed where we laid down together, her head resting on the shoulder of my shadowy form.

“Sleep, my love. I will keep the darkness at bay.”

Naima sighed with content, a dreamy smile stretching her lips as she snuggled deeper against me. My arm tightened around my woman, and I erected a protective shield around her dream that would keep further negative thoughts from invading it. She wouldn’t remember any of this, but she would rest peacefully. After gently kissing her lips, I, too, surrendered to the call of Morpheus.

* * *

Morning came too soon. Thomson woke me a little after 5:00 A.M. to get ready. Along with him and Agent Tate, we would be scouting the various locations throughout the city where the agency had recorded significant ethereal power surges, or where surveillance cameras had caught a Transient in the process of crossing over. As a Walker myself, I would immediately be able to sense if these newborns were Nightmares to be eliminated before they grew stronger or Wishes to be left in peace.

If everything followed the usual routine, the Mist would recede around 6:00 A.M. We needed to be on the move as soon as it did to avoid our targets wandering too far off from their birthplace. Other agents would also be scouting to track the Transients at the locations I hadn’t visited yet until I could catch up.

I quickly dressed in the dark combat uniform Thomson had given me, including a bullet-proof vest. As reality set in, I couldn’t decide if I was more excited than worried. That feeling messed with my head. I’d never been scared of anything. But I didn’t trust this body. Today would truly be a baptism by fire.

I headed to the cafeteria with Thomson and Tate shadowing me in silence. This would be my third time sharing a meal with the program Director instead of with my woman. I hated it. He was a fine enough companion, but this was my special time with my mate. And, as much as I hated to admit it, I had really wanted to see her before heading out into the unknown.

I opened the door with a bit more force than necessary, my discontent manifesting itself through a certain level of aggressivity. I no sooner stepped inside than the tingling of my connection with my mate struck me. My head jerked to the back of the cafeteria, and my heart lurched at the sight of my woman setting down a tray filled with all my favorite dishes right next to hers.

“Naima,” I whispered, a strange sensation making my chest burn with gentle emotions.

Abandoning my companions, I made a beeline for her. I couldn”t tell whether she had sensed my approach or heard my footsteps, but my woman raised her head and our gazes connected. Time stood still for a moment, then a soft smile stretched my woman”s lips. I responded in kind as I approached her, touched more than words could express not only that she had gotten up so early to see me off, but also that she didn’t seem to hold any resentment for the previous night.

“I took the liberty to pick food for you,” Naima said timidly. “I hope it”s okay.”

“It is much appreciated,” I said sincerely. “I was saddened at the thought of missing yet another meal with you.”

A strange expression crossed her features. It was so brief that I didn”t get a chance to get a sense of its nature.

“You had important things to do,” she said in an understanding tone. “We all need you to be as prepared as possible.”

My chest further warmed for my female. Naima hated everything about what I had done last night, but that she stood by me, knowing how essential it had been, meant the world to me. Fighting the urge to draw her into my embrace and kiss her, I merely smiled and took a seat next to her.

My companions wisely found a different table to sit and eat, granting my mate and I a few moments of privacy. Unfortunately, there was no time to relax and enjoy the meal in Naima’s company. While we’d been gone to the penitentiary, the agents had gathered more Sparks and Beasts for me. I needed to syphon them before we headed out, and the clock was ticking.

Too soon, I rose from my chair, bombarded by the impatient vibes from the agents—from both my team and the others that would scout ahead of us. Naima followed us as we headed to the holding areas. To my utter shock, she took my hand and held it while we walked. My throat and my chest constricted. This damn human vessel was far too emotional. By their not so subtle glances, the agents took notice. But my mate lifted her chin defiantly. I gently squeezed her hand in approval, my head spinning with a mix of pride and affection for my mate to thus be publicly claimed.

We stopped in front of the reinforced doors with a huge ‘restricted access’ sign on it. Naima turned to face me. She slipped her fingers through the hair at the back of my head and pressed herself against me. The way she looked at me erased any doubt anyone might have still held that we were an item. Fighting the urge to roar in triumph, I wrapped my arms around her. How I had missed the feel of her in the flesh.

“You go and be a hero, and then you come back to me in one piece. Do you hear me?” Naima said in a stern tone, oblivious to the ten men and women surrounding us.

“I hear you, my mate,” I responded.

Bending forward, I captured her lips in a deep and passionate kiss, yet controlled and restrained. My intimate moments with my woman were no spectacle for others to gawk over.

Breaking the kiss, I caressed her lips with my thumb. “I will return.”

Putting on a brave face, Naima smiled encouragingly as she released me. I caressed her cheek with my knuckles then, with much reluctance, I entered the restricted area. Like the previous night, I made quick work of siphoning the Sparks and the Beasts that had been herded into the holding facility. Despite the limited amount of time, the agents had done a surprisingly good job of rounding up a respectable number of them. However, most of them felt weaker than the previous group. It didn”t surprise me. By now, most of the sentient and higher-level creatures had returned to the Mist Plane, having sensed the impending closure of the portals. These weaker and mindless creatures would have been found in the morning turned into ash statues.

Although I didn’t hear the city defense siren from within the thick walls of the base, I felt the very moment the Mist dissipated. As my connection to my homeworld was severed, I was struck by a wave of dizziness. Both the strength and energy the Mist had passively been feeding me stopped. For the first time, I truly felt vulnerable. The reality of my new situation as a human sank in at last.

As we headed for the vehicle, I assessed my current state and was reassured by the tremendous amount of energy thrumming within me. I could take a serious beating before reaching a dangerously low enough level that might keep me from piercing through the Veil if needed.

We drove through the deserted streets of the city of Cordell. The other vehicles followed us for a while, having to navigate around an impressively large number of ash statues. A particularly striking one held my attention. Two beasts had visibly been in the midst of a battle. One of them had been in the process of siphoning the other when the Mist retreated, immortalizing their last moments.

But even as we left the building, other agents, that weren’t accompanying us on this scouting expedition, deployed throughout the city to start erasing these mostly nightmarish—but occasionally adorable—remains from the streets.

“Where is the population?” I asked as every single house and building we drove by remained shuttered.

I had expected that after three days of confinement, many would have been eager to witness the sunrise and get some fresh air.

“The siren hasn”t gone off yet,” Agent Tate explained from the back seat of the car. “The siren only goes off two hours after the end of the Mist. Officially, it”s in order to make sure that no lingering Beasts had somehow survived a while longer or that the Mist had taken a bit longer to recede.”

“And the unofficial version?” I asked.

“Unofficially,” Thomson replied in his stead, “it is the short window granted to the Fourth Division to clean up as much as possible, especially desiccated bodies, and to eliminate whatever Nightmares might have spawned.”

“Clever and practical,” I reflected out loud. “If things get ugly, it will be good not having to worry about civilians.”

“Exactly,” Thomson said with a smile.

Blood started pumping in my veins as our vehicle closed in on one of the dots on the map displayed on a screen embedded in the dashboard. Those locations corresponded to the massive power surges recorded by the Fourth Division’s surveillance systems, which were provoked by the birth of a Transient. This specific spot left me a little perplexed as it offered little protection from certain types of roaming Beasts. We were in a residential area of the Thornhill borough, at a white wooden house that could have used a bit of a facelift. Nevertheless, the front porch was clean and the lawn well maintained. Although a light-grey picket fence surrounded the house’s perimeter—including the backyard—its gate wasn’t locked and didn’t close properly. This meant any Mist Being was free to come and go as they pleased on the exterior property without the negative effects of trespassing.

Taking the lead, I summoned my ethereal shield then circled to the back of the house where the whispers of a Walker beckoned me. Weapons in hand, my companions closely followed. The spectacle that awaited stopped me dead in my tracks.

A handsome young male, somewhat shaky on his legs, was chewing on what appeared to be a tomato while taking a long-sleeve shirt hanging on the clothesline. Tall and athletic, in a lean and fit swimmer way rather than the massive and bulging style of a bodybuilder—like me—he reeked of kindness.

His head jerked towards us, having finally sensed our presence. The cool morning breeze blew his long, blond hair out of his angelic face. His striking pale-blue eyes widened with surprise and then shock at the sight of my companions’ weapons trained on him, but above all, at mine. Fear descended on his features as he clearly struggled to understand who and what we were. Beyond any doubt, he knew me to be a Nightmare. However, despite their menacing stance and the fear emanating from the agents, he would perceive no malice from them. So, what the fuck were they doing with one such as me?

The Transient swallowed the mouthful he had stopped chewing upon noticing our presence, and carefully slipped on the shirt he had taken to cover his nudity.

“I… I’m not here to cause trouble,” the newborn Transient said in the type of pleasantly masculine voice that would have females feel weak in the knees.

“Zain?” Thomson asked with a slight tension in his voice.

I waved a dismissive hand. “He’s one of those disgustingly gentle Wishes. He is no threat to your people.”

Relief flooded my companions who holstered their weapons while approaching the Transient to speak with him. Annoyed, I turned on my heels and headed back to the car. I should be relieved. Not fighting today could be a good thing to give me time to build my power as I didn’t truly feel confident with my current level—impressive though it was. However, with the end of the Mist, Naima would become my greatest source of energy, and only from her emotions. Would it be enough when Darryl was out there gorging on humans?

Just as the men were returning to the vehicle, another Fourth Division car pulled up in front of the house to pick up the Transient.

“That was a clever one,” Thomson said as he sat behind the wheel. “Not the sturdiest shelter, but he’d planned for everything.”

I grunted in agreement, begrudgingly recognizing the merits of his birthplace selection. At a glance, he’d chosen the sturdy treehouse in the back which appeared to close with a large wooden plank that he’d likely secured once inside. Even though we were in the middle of summer, the morning air had a cold bite. The clothes hanging in the backyard—which also had a small vegetable garden—gave him a good head start on basic necessities.

“Where are they taking him?” I asked with genuine curiosity.

“Transient Immigration Center,” Agent Tate said with a snort.

Thomson gave him an amused look through the rearview mirror. “I guess you could call it that,” the Director conceded. “We have no quarrel with Wishes. We do not really intervene. However, to those like him who clearly have a chance of making it, we will provide basic clothes and legal identification so that they can function within our society. For everything else, they”re on their own.”

I stared at him for a moment, once more confused by this strange human trait called compassion. Why would they help us out in any way? He was implying they respected survival of the fittest to a certain extent, but clearly not enough if they gave them a leg up. Then again, with his personality and the fact that his own daughter had chosen eternal life with her Wish in the Mist, I could see why one such as he would feel a certain sense of duty—if not loyalty—towards others like his son in law.

Although he hadn’t mentioned it, there also was a practical side to this assistance that I’m sure he’d accounted for. His job was to keep our existence a secret. It would raise too much suspicion if a bunch of grown men and women kept popping up the day after the Mist with no identity and no history.

The next five Transients also turned out to be Wishes. One of them sadly didn”t make it. Based on the ashen remains we found, he was drained either moments after his birth or close enough to finishing forming. The residual energy was vile. The victim had not been a Nightmare, but his killer had been.

We were pulling up to the next location when a loud scream nearly made me jump out of my skin. I barely waited for the vehicle to stop before jumping out and racing towards an abandoned store. It was located next to a women’s shelter in the middle of a poor neighborhood. The wave of malice and evil glee that slammed into me nearly drowned the despair and panic of his victim. Wrapping myself in my ethereal shield, I ran to the side door in the back alley that appeared to have been broken years ago.

At a glance, it was visible the place regularly served as a squatting venue for homeless people. It would make sense for a newborn Transient to select this location as some of the makeshift beds and basic accessories used by its usual tenants were left available for her. Once the city reopened, she no doubt would have sought assistance at the women’s shelter next door.

The female screamed again, and the sound of battle resounded from behind a cement wall covered in graffiti. Despite the darkness, my ethereal powers allowed me to compensate for the limitations of my human eyes.

“Release her!” I shouted, deploying my shadowy tendrils as I burst into the backroom where a number of dirty sleeping bags and mattresses filled the large open space.

Standing in the middle, a ruggedly handsome male dressed in rather fashionable grunge style, was siphoning a stunning female with waist-length, light-brown hair. Judging by the shredded state of the dirty shirt she had scavenged, and the angry welts on her arms and legs, the Nightmare had whipped her with his tendrils to feed on her terror and pain before finally starting to drain her lifeforce.

A few more minutes, and it would have been too late for her.

Overconfident, and too absorbed by his feeding frenzy, the Nightmare had not been on the lookout for potential intruders. That gave me hope that he was too stupid to make the most efficient use of his power, which was greater than mine.

His head jerked towards me with an evil grin, clearly thinking the poor human who had dared interrupt his meal would squeal in terror. But his grin faded, and his eyes widened in shock at the sight of my own tendrils. Recognizing the bigger threat in me, he shoved the female back, sending her crashing against the wall. Although battered, bruised, and severely weakened, she looked like she would survive the ordeal—assuming I won this fight.

“My prey!” the Nightmare snarled, advancing menacingly towards me. “Hunt your own.”

I braced, ready to strike. However, the Nightmare suddenly froze, and terror crossed his features. He quickly hid it, but the scent of his fear lingered.

“Zain!” he whispered, just as Thomson and Tate were finally making their entrance.

I recoiled, startled that he should know me. I narrowed my eyes at him, obviously not familiar with his chosen human vessel. Extending my senses, I tasted his energy, and especially his fear. It was my turn to freeze as I recognized him.

“Little Weasel…” I said in a soft, almost whispered voice. “I thought you’d gotten your sorry ass siphoned at long last.”

“My name is Tobin,” the little vermin hissed. “You are a weak newborn on my territory. Here, you are no longer the apex predator. It is your turn to cower before me.”

Tobin was the typical, fanatically mindless Nightmare. His insatiable hunger and cruelty guided his every move. But he was also a coward. He only ever attacked those he knew to be significantly weaker than him, that he had an unfair advantage over, or that he could land a sneak attack on.

He launched his tendrils at me—which I had expected. But just as I raised my own to intercept it, he suddenly veered to each side of me to target my companions behind me. I barely managed to swat them down while Thomson and Tate rolled out of the way. I groaned inwardly when my shadowy tendrils struck his. It felt like punching a cement wall with my bare knuckles. While the men got back on their feet, I used my own shadowy tentacles to whip at Tobin’s human body only to meet the unbreakable wall of his ethereal shield. The way he laughed at my efforts proved I’d done more damage to myself than to him with those blows. And yet, they had weakened his armor.

Tate opened fire on the Nightmare, quickly imitated by Thomson. As much as I hated their intervention, Tobin was right. Despite all the gorging I had done, I was but a newbie Transient, still green in handling battle with this human body, and not yet powerful enough. Bullets were doing wonders breaking down the Nightmare’s shield. Replenishing it meant divesting more of his energy reserves towards it, which would weaken him to a level more manageable for me.

The attack naturally enraged the Weasel. He once more tried to strike the two males with two tendrils towards each of them, which I blocked again. This time, however, I hung on to them. Simultaneously, I summoned two more shadowy tentacles, which I shaped like giant fists and pummeled him with them. Tobin roared in anger and, for the first time, in pain as the men resumed shooting. His armor was cracking, but I needed him weaker still.

The Nightmare tried to yank me to him, both to use me as a meat shield and to have me within striking range with his own fists. I resisted while he increased the force with which he was trying to pull back his tendrils that I still held. Then, I suddenly released him, immediately following through with an uppercut from my free tendrils. Tobin flew backwards, crashing against the wall.

The female, who had cowered into a corner, dashed towards us. Tobin tried to catch her with one of his tentacles. Before I could intervene, the woman summoned a wisp of a tendril, so thin it looked like a metal wire. Without slowing down, she swiped it in an upward movement, and the damn thing sliced clean through Tobin’s shadowy limb. The severed section flopped onto the floor with a small thud, then turned into ashes within seconds.

He screeched in pain, quickly retracting his wounded tendril. I bitchslapped him with one of my own, resorbing into me the two extra ones I had previously summoned to punch him. Four tendrils were our default and didn’t drain our energy. But each additional one we summoned put a strain on our reserves—a luxury I didn’t have right now.

“You just got spanked by your newborn victim,” I taunted, while the female scurried past the men to take cover behind us. “And I had to slap you like the little bitch you are to stop your crying. You were pathetic in the Mist. You’re just as sad in the Mortal Plane. All these months feeding on humans, and this is all the power you garnered? You’re a disgrace.”

Right on cue, Tobin jumped back to his feet and made a show of displaying his power with a dozen tendrils waving around his back like a shadowy peacock’s tail.

Yes! Burn away your energy!

But even as my companions resumed shooting, the Nightmare rushed me, forcing them to cease fire. This time, he didn’t bother with the humans. Instead of attempting to tackle me to the floor, Tobin wrapped his tentacles around me and drew me to his body. I might as well have slammed into a brick wall when I collided with his chest. His hands flew to my neck in an attempt to strangle me while his tendrils held me in a vise. My own attempted to push back to prevent him from crushing me. I could already feel my shield cracking under the pressure. With the two of us so intimately intertwined, the agents couldn’t shoot without risking hitting me instead.

Remembering the human self-defense and combat techniques Tate had been teaching me, I brought my arm down hard over his, close to his wrists, breaking his hold. I immediately followed by slamming my elbow against his jaw, and then struck him right under the nose with the bottom of my palm. Tobin shouted, his hold loosening around me as he held his face. Normally, considering the strength I had put behind the blow, that should have broken his nose, even smashed his face in. However, while his shield had protected it, being thinner around his face, it didn’t shelter him from the pain.

Pressing my advantage, I broke free of his embrace and kicked him square in the chest, sending him flying back. But a couple of his tendrils caught me, and dragged me with him. I landed on top of Tobin in a tangle of limbs. Before I could recover, the Nightmare rained blows on me with his fists and his tendrils faster than I could block or react. I couldn’t tell if his human body or ethereal form was doing the damage, but he was on the verge of wrecking me. I’d never felt such debilitating pain. When a lucky blow struck the side of my face, my teeth rattled, and I nearly blacked out.

This fucking body was too damn slow.

I was losing this fight by trying to battle like a human. I didn’t master this body. At this rate, it would soon die. But if I were to keel over, I was bringing this bastard with me.

I stopped trying to damage his much-too-well-shielded human vessel and reverted to my usual strategies in the Mist. Swallowing back the pain, I stopped my efforts to try controlling him and devoted most of my energy to my shield. Shifting back to my Mistwalker vision, I examined my opponent for signs of weaknesses in his ethereal armor. They shone like glowing fissures on the dark surface.

Thinking he had broken me when I remained almost still, Tobin roared in triumph, and relaxed his hold. To my relief, he stopped striking me with his tendrils, switching to punching and slapping my face. The fool wanted to humiliate me before going for the kill. He should know better than to toy with an apex predator. Waves of fear flowed to me from my companions who were also starting to believe I was being defeated. Their fear doubly served me by reinforcing Tobin’s overconfidence and by allowing me to shamelessly feed on their emotions.

Perfectly timing my attack, I extruded my ethereal claws and turned the tips of my tendrils into blade-like tips. As soon as he pulled his arm back to swing at me again, opening himself wide, I stabbed at six of his vulnerable spots with both of my hands and all four of my tendrils. They pierced right through his shield and then sunk into his vulnerable flesh.

Tobin’s body jerked then froze, shock and disbelief replacing the smug and malicious joy on his face. As his brain registered the serious damage he had just sustained, the Nightmare shrieked like a banshee. He tried to back away from him, but I didn’t let him. I bent the tips of my limbs inside him before yanking them out to cause maximum tissue and organ damage as they came out.

My prey screeched again and slapped his hands on a couple of his wounds to staunch the blood pouring out. He haphazardly batted at me with tendrils, but I didn’t relent, targeting his other weak spots with my tentacles. It became too easy. Like most stupid Nightmares controlled by their basic urges, Tobin had never learned real battle strategies. In the Mist, he’d preyed on the weak and easy targets. In the Mortal Plane, humans had been no challenge for him. For the first time, the fool was feeling true pain, and it robbed him of the ability to think straight—not that he ever had before.

I pounced on him, pinning him to the floor. Straddling him, I began feeding on both his exponentially growing terror and his lifeforce. It was slimy with malice and bitter with fright—just the way I liked it.

“No! Noooooo!” he shouted, struggling vainly to free himself.

I grinned with evil pleasure the moment Tobin realized he was about to die. The terror on his face was blissfully delicious. In a desperate, last ditch effort, the Nightmare attempted to siphon me. I backhanded him so hard it dislocated his jaw and a few teeth flew out.

His remaining shield collapsed, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he struggled to remain conscious. I cursed inwardly, realizing my mistake. If Tobin passed out right now, his state of unconsciousness would give him access to his human mind’s doorway into the Mist. The Weasel still had sufficient energy left to cross over… barely. Granted, if he succeeded, he would be as weak as a newborn Spark and wouldn’t be a threat to anyone for a loooong time. But I wanted his lifeforce, first as my reward and second to help me defeat Darryl.

I siphoned Tobin with greater greed and speed, the electric glow of his lifeforce flowing into me bathing the dark and dirty room in a blinding light. His tendrils were the first to turn to ash. I held his gaze with malicious joy and watched with fascination the tears that trickled down his cheeks. Tobin’s mouth moved but only a choked, gurgling sound escaped him as the last of his ethereal essence turned to ash around him. Only his wounded human body remained.

“You were pathetic,” I said in a cruel and merciless voice. “I always said I would kill you someday. There shall be no rebirth for you. Goodbye, Little Weasel.”

With these last words, I drained his human vessel, enjoying the sight of it caving in on itself like a deflated balloon. But his death was even more enjoyable than those condemned humans I had hunted yesterday. When they’d died, the core of their soul flew away, I had no idea where. But not Walkers. I devoured the last fragment of his essence. His death was like an electric shock at the back of my throat which then ran down my spine.

I released Tobin’s remains and resorbed my tendrils into me. My vessel thrummed with an insane amount of energy. But now that the rush of battle was abating, agonizing pain coursed through my entire body.

“He did it!” Tate whispered behind me with awe and joy.

“How are you feeling, son?” Thomson asked, his voice filled with worry as he carefully approached me.

Grinding my teeth through the pain, I got back up on my feet. Thomson flinched when I turned to face him. Although he quickly controlled his expression, it had been enough for me to know I looked as dreadful as I felt.

“Let’s get you back to the base and have Dr. Chandra take care of you,” Thomson said in a gentle voice.

I didn’t argue, although all that I really wanted was to hold my woman in my arms. I turned my gaze towards the female, who was hugging her torn clothes close to her body. Although she didn’t whine or complain, she was clearly freezing. Confusion and a bit of worry filled her eyes as they flicked between the three of us before resting on me.

Thomson and Tate cast an inquisitive look towards me. They already knew what the answer would be but wanted confirmation.

“Yeah, she’s a Wish,” I said in a tired voice before starting to walk towards the exit.

“Nightmare!” the female called out. I stopped to glance at her. “You saved me.”

“Yes, and?” I asked, annoyed by this additional delay. I really wanted to get off my feet.

“Why?” she asked, confused.

“Do you wish I hadn’t?” I snarled. “That can be rectified.”

Her eyes widened with greater confusion, and she cast an uncertain look towards Thomson. He shook his head at her in a way implying she should just let it go. Wise advice. As I couldn’t be bothered any longer, I just limped back to the car. To my surprise, four more agency vehicles had surrounded the location. The agents, weapons in hand, were visibly waiting to ambush Tobin had he gotten the upper hand.

When they saw me coming out, quickly followed by Tate, Thomson, and the female, they began clapping. The happiness and relief on their faces, the wave of gratitude they broadcast my way did funny things to me. I always liked accolades, but this felt different. It was… nice.

Getting inside the car was excruciating. I could see Tate’s desire to help me, but he wisely didn’t. I would have smacked him. The other agents burst into action like an army of ants. One of them rushed towards the female to cover her with a warm blanket before escorting her to one of the vehicles. Others went in with some broom-like vacuums, no doubt to collect the ashes, while another went in with a body bag.

“The other sites?” I asked Thomson, dreading his response.

“There were only three more, the men have handled them,” Thomson said reassuringly. “There had been another Nightmare, but very weak. My men took him out. I doubt he had enough energy to go back.”

I gave him a stiff nod, rested my head on the headrest of my seat, and closed my eyes. I didn’t recall falling asleep—doubted I actually did, considering the amount of pain I was in—but the sound of the city’s siren resounding startled me awake. I suspected I had in fact passed out. A number of shutters immediately started going up. Within minutes, I could barely recognize the streets near the base. They looked so different now with the houses unlocked and people starting to spill out of their homes.

By the time we entered the underground parking of the base, I felt feverish and nauseous with pain. Despite my pride, I nearly fainted again when I tried to get out of the vehicle. Drowning in an ocean of agony, I didn’t react when multiple pairs of hands hauled my massive body out of the vehicle to lay me down on a stretcher. Although they did their best effort to be gentle, my human vessel’s excessive sensitivity got the best of me. The room spun, and a veil of darkness descended before my eyes.

I welcomed it.