A Shade of Vampire 90: A Ruler of Clones - Bella Forrest Page 0,11

futile, either way, but I’m sure you’re more efficient when working together.”

“What is going on here?” Astra whispered, pale as a sheet of paper.

“Torrhen has the all-seeing eye, so to speak,” Brandon sighed. “I didn’t know he was here. Otherwise, I never would have allowed you to come.”

“The all-seeing eye,” I mumbled, trying to take in as much as I could about this colossal Berserker. He was huge, much like Haldor, with broad shoulders and a black, messy mohawk that was a few inches too long and was hanging slightly to one side. A third eye had been tattooed onto his forehead. The iris glowed blue, much like his gaze.

“Nothing gets past me,” Torrhen chuckled. “Not walls, not magic, not steel nor concrete nor sigils and wards. Nothing. I see everything.”

“Even things he doesn’t want to see,” Brandon said. “It’s made him neurotic.”

Torrhen shot him a cold glare. “You have to answer to HQ for what you’ve done. How many more passes do you think you’re going to get before they tear Hammer to shreds, huh?”

“I don’t know. But I’ve gotten away with it so far,” Brandon replied dryly.

“Don’t be a fool,” Myst warned the all-seeing Berserker. “You’ve picked the wrong side, Torrhen. It will not end well for you.”

He didn’t seem to care. “Well, you’re a lone little Valkyrie lost in a realm you cannot escape from, completely cut off from Order. And your living friends here are on HQ’s most-wanted list. If anyone will have to deal with a shoddy ending, it’s you. And them,” he said, nodding my way.

I knew Isabelle, Voss, and Chantal were right behind him inside that glass unit. But we had one hell of an obstacle to deal with, in order to get to them. And this guy talked about offing us like it was just another day at the office.

We hadn’t come into this expecting everything to go smoothly, but I would’ve liked a slightly easier time at getting my friends out of this hellhole. As chills tumbled down my spine under the all-seeing eye’s troubling gaze, I knew things were about to get bloody, fast.

Unless I did something bold. Or stupid. Or both.

Tristan

Unending was not the first Reaper ever made.

This newly discovered fact had yet to fully sink in. It had rendered her silent. At first, I’d been tempted to suspect Anunit of lying, hoping it might only be a trick to get us to do what she wanted. But the Reaper’s record so far said otherwise. The first trial had revealed the existence of soul fae, whom Death had declared extinct ages ago. The second trial had revealed the existence of a man she’d gifted with immortality, death magic knowledge, and a scythe of his own—all of which went against every beratement she’d pummeled Unending with regarding Erethiel. This third trial was bound to be just as scandalous, if not more so… and what would be more scandalous than revealing that Unending was not Death’s first creation?

No, Anunit had spoken the truth. We were simply struggling to accept it.

Unending’s anger simmered just beneath the surface, coming off her cool skin like heatwaves, an odd sensation to experience beside an entity from the realm of the dead. Her galaxy eyes were darker than usual, the stars within turned dim with heavy thoughts. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, and I was unable to reach her telepathically. She was too enraged to even talk to me.

It made me angry too.

Angry that she was being hurt and lied to again, by her own maker. Had I not been a mere vampire, I would’ve gone after Death for this, if only to deliver a rebuke worthy of her terrible behavior. Alas, I couldn’t do anything, and that only made it worse. Unending had been brought up to believe she had been Death’s first “child,” a most precious being with a most precious talent. The hardships she had endured over Erethiel and the Aeternae of Visio had been more than enough, damn it. Unending had suffered too much already. Where would this end?

Anunit brought us to a realm in the Earthly Dimension, a faraway land that Reapers no longer frequented. It was empty of life. “This is Biriane,” she said as we appeared in the middle of a slender white stone plateau. Around us, valleys and hills and arrowhead mountains unraveled like a blank canvas of rock and dirt and sand and dust. There wasn’t a single green leaf anywhere. Not one breathing,