A Shade of Vampire 90: A Ruler of Clones - Bella Forrest Page 0,69

devices, according to Brandon, and it was a similar blackness paralyzing Brandon, Myst, and Regine here, too. “With all your powers and tricks and allies… why am I such a problem to you?”

“It’s your sentry blood,” Hrista said. “It causes a weird reaction with your Daughter genes. Sentries are distant relatives of ghouls and Reapers, and Daughters are products of the Hermessi. There is something about that combination that makes you… special.”

“Special how?” Thayen replied.

Torrhen smiled. “She can’t just sense the shimmering portals. She can open them.”

“Why would you tell her that?” Hrista snapped.

“You’re going to kill her now, aren’t you? It’s courtesy,” Torrhen replied, defending his decision. The certainty of my impending doom made it clear. I couldn’t waste another second.

One way or another, I’d have to get us away from this Valkyrie before she destroyed us. As long as I drew breath, I was a threat to her, and now I knew why—though I still wasn’t quite sure how. This was it. My moment of truth. Surrendering to instinct, I touched Brandon’s shoulder.

The black mist pulled back as if burned by my touch, and Brandon sucked in a breath, suddenly free and conscious. Hrista had failed to follow up on Torrhen’s observation, though I couldn’t blame her. Teeming with insecurities, she’d poured plenty of energy into making this moment count, into positioning herself as the superior Valkyrie, the supreme being that could navigate and control any realm she wished. I felt like I was seeing another side of her personality—the fractured one that had to prove something to everybody. I wondered if I could ever use it against her.

Brandon gave me a startled look. “Get us out of here,” I whispered to him.

“Kill them all! And kill the pink-haired bitch first!” Hrista said menacingly. A split second later, she vanished altogether.

It quickly became apparent that Torrhen wasn’t the only Berserker present. Other shadows emerged from the edges of the clearing, each one bigger and darker than the other, each with furious blue eyes that sought our deaths.

I only had a few seconds to make my move. I’d caught Hrista unprepared with my immunity to the black mist. It proved I could do more for my friends and family. It proved, along with Hrista’s own words, that there was more to me than I’d originally thought. The idea both scared and thrilled me, but I needed to survive now if I wanted the chance to figure out what it all meant later.

And survive I shall.

Sofia

Esme’s return to The Shade kept me busy while Phoenix and Kailani worked on figuring out the silvery cubes. We’d heard voices inside them, and we knew they had some kind of mechanism on the inside, but the details of how they worked remained a mystery.

Derek caught up with Kalon for a while. The Aeternae-turned-vampire had left his younger brothers behind and in charge of some of GASP’s local operations on Visio, while he and Esme had come over to The Shade, deeply concerned and eager to help. They knew as much as any of us, and they had agreed there was more to this. Something else would happen sooner or later. The clone incidents had just been the tip of the iceberg.

Phoenix had managed to crack open one of the cubes, revealing the circuitry inside. It was an odd combination of metals and tiny conductive crystals, each pulse of energy flowing visibly. “Look at this,” he said, having connected one side of the inner circuit board to a couple of pliers with electrical charges. Whenever he brought his special screwdriver closer to the board, energy began to flow from the electrically loaded pliers to the slim tip of the screwdriver. “There’s something happening here.”

“The circuit is alive,” Kailani replied, raising both eyebrows.

“Try touching it with the screwdriver,” Esme said, eyes fixed on the cube’s electronic entrails. “It’s obvious the energy current senses it.”

Phoenix nodded slowly and brought the screwdriver closer. As soon as its tip touched the circuit, lights flashed and voices echoed throughout the room—familiar voices, I realized with a gasp. Mine. Derek’s. Serena and Draven’s. Rose’s. “Whoa,” I managed, getting up from my seat.

“We should totally consider dinner in Paris for our wedding anniversary,” I heard Serena telling Draven. I remembered that moment. It was from a Sunday brunch we’d had.

“I know this,” I murmured, trying to remember the entire conversation. “Serena wanted Paris, but Draven had become fixated on—”

“Bali,” the Druid cut in, wide-eyed as he heard himself speak in the