The Sinner - J. R. Ward Page 0,178

stronger than ever before.

Shall we try this anew, the warping voice said inside Butch’s head. I believe you will find I am much rejuvenated.

As Butch kept his eyes on the evil, he used his peripheral vision to check on his people. Not one of the brothers or the fighters was moving. They were all corpses, wiped out by the Omega’s wrath.

I can feel your pain. The evil laughed in a low curl. It is so satisfying.

The Omega walked forward and stopped in front of the three lessers who’d been so easily subdued. The hood on the white robe dipped down as if it were regarding its creations. Then one of the sleeves lifted and a black, smoke-like appendage emerged.

In a series of pops, the corporeal forms of the slayers turned into dirty puffs of air, and the Omega pulled the exhaust into its sleeve, reabsorbing its own essence.

Just as Butch reached for one of his daggers, the Omega looked up. Oh, no, no, we mustn’t do that.

The evil extended its handlike form and gathered in its palm a swirling of energy.

We tried this once before, remember? I wager it will be a different experience for you the now.

The Omega let it rip, pitching a fastball of concentrated nasty, and the impact was like getting hit with a bee’s nest, a million stinging nettles biting into every inch of Butch’s skin as he was blown off his feet into the wall behind him. The aftermath of the hit was worse. As the initial sensation faded, he felt as though he were bathed in the misery of humanity, all the suffering of all the ages boiling inside of him until he cried out in wretched pain.

Sliding down the bricks, he landed on his ass and looked up.

The Omega advanced further, floating over the asphalt. Impressed with my effort? Surprised? It’s not the result of a good day’s sleep, but you already know that, do you not. Remember when my sister had her little chat with you in the church?

Butch nodded because he wanted the evil to keep talking. “What about it?”

It was a violation of the rules of our game, and the rectification was getting my hearts back. The Creator awarded me the knowledge of that location—this after I have searched for them for centuries—and as you can see, I made the most of the reclamation of my property.

The evil took a little spin, as if it were showing off its pretty new robing.

Butch snuck one of his hands inside his jacket and locked a grip on the hilt of one of his daggers. If he could get close enough, if he could get a clear stab in the center of its chest? Maybe that would be enough—although he wasn’t under any misconceptions of what would happen if he did manage to deep-stick the motherfucker. If a normal slayer popped and fizzed when the penetration occurred? The Omega was going to relight the whole fucking city.

My sister’s miscalculation has cost her the entire war. I have won. And you will be my prize. The Omega’s sleeve lifted toward Butch. Our social acquaintance has lasted quite long enough. I believe I now wish for a more intimate association.

The evil’s energy entered Butch through the soles of his shitkickers, and the vibration traveled up his calves and his thighs, through his torso and into his head. Flexing against the onslaught, he strained and contorted, trying to fight the ownership that he could feel was coming. But like a revving engine, the disrupting power only ramped up, getting higher and higher, until he was nearly bent backward and his flesh could no longer contain the shock waves within its corporal confines.

It was as he strained and kicked his head back that he saw the figure approaching.

A female. In a parka. With red hair.

Surely he was imagining this. What the hell was Jo Early doing—

Butch shook his head. She had to go—she was going to die!

Just as he was sure he was going to explode and be consumed like the slayers had been, the internal pressure eased up and he was able to breathe again.

A visitor . . . we have a visitor, do we? the Omega said in Butch’s head. And you know her, do you not. Your half-sister. What a marvelous surprise. Let us bring her into this, shall we?

There was a high-pitched scream, and then Jo levitated off the ground and was swept forward, compelled to the Omega, the toes of her boots

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