Save your loved ones or the world—what would you choose?
With Armageddon on the brink, Pepper Li Bell’s father still hostage, and goddess Karma severely weakened, the Syndicate, led by original vampire Vlad Dracula, has moved on to the next phase of their plans. Even so, Pepper is determined to rescue her father from the Syndicate’s stronghold. But her plans are thwarted when a centuries-old prophecy is revealed that cautions of impending doom centered on the upcoming lunar eclipse and the last surviving Agent of Karma. Pepper and her allies must find the Agent before the Syndicate does.
As Vlad and his army of vampires and soul-sellers scour Earth and Hell for the Agent and Pepper, they force Pepper to run for her life, pushing her further from her father. With so many enemies closing in and nowhere left to hide, the weight of the world crashes on Pepper’s shoulders. When she thinks she may crumble beneath the pressure, Pepper discovers Vlad’s true intentions, including those reserved for her father and all of humanity. In the eleventh hour, Pepper must choose between rescuing those she loves and saving the world. But she might unearth something far more sinister.
Six months ago
Howling winds tore through the vast caves like laser missiles on their sole mission to destroy the man who dared to spoil the sanctity of the Caves of Altira’me-tum. And they were almost successful in their assignment; they nearly knocked Jhi off the miles-high stone pillar he artfully balanced upon.
Annoyed, Jhi stood back up in defiance of the wind, rooting the heels of his boots further into the summit’s craggy terrain, and trumpeted, “That all you got?”
“C’mon, Jhi! I’m trying to get you outta there, and you’re not exactly helping matters,” Friday huffed through Jhi’s earpiece.
Slender rock formations taller than the skyscrapers in Pandæmonia dotted the caves and traveled to infinity in every direction. Some were higher than others, a few dangerously low, but the crests of them all were barely big enough to house a body.
As Jhi surveyed the dank and dimly lit death trap to determine his next course of action, he made the mistake of looking down. His head spun, and his body swayed dangerously close to the pillar’s edge. The silt and stones knocked off by his unsteady feet had yet to reach the bottom.
By the grace of Seren, Jhi regained his balance and crouched down. “That was too close,” he said jokingly, his voice echoing about. “You still there, Friday?”
“Sure am,” said Jhi’s jinn partner. “And from the sound of it, you’re screwed.”
“Your concern is truly palpable.”
Jhi was in the midst of trial number three out of who knew how many. He barely survived the last one when he went toe-to-toe with a furious lu’kowsa with no weapons or magic at his disposal, which amounted to him dodging the dragon’s fireballs, swinging barbed-wire tail, and snapping snout. Good times! Oh, but the fun didn’t end there. With no visible points of entry, just endless slime-coated walls, part of the trial was figuring out how to escape the lu’kowsa’s underwater lair as it slowly filled with water.
This current trial tested Jhi’s strength, dexterity, and, if he was being honest, his patience, which was about to flatline. “There’s no way I can make the jump to the next pillar.”
“Can you move in another direction?” Friday replied.
“Yeah, but—” A loud rumbling shook the caves. “Uh, Friday”—Jhi glanced over his shoulder—“we got a problem. I can’t backtrack. The pillar behind me is a pile of crumbs on the non-existent ground.” The same pillar he had been on moments before.
The rumblings intensified, and the upright pillars in the distance trembled in response until they, too, began collapsing like dominos. Beads of sweat sprouted on Jhi’s forehead as the only way out of the gods-forsaken cave dismantled before his eyes.
“Feel free to chime in here, buddy. Anytime.” Jhi’s voice jumped an octave.
“It’s not like I have a handy reference book on the Caves of Altira’me-tum at my disposal, jam-packed with tips and tricks. Just let me mull this over for a second.” Panic set up shop within the usually unruffled jinn.
“Sure, by all means. Take a breather. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” A loud burst of wind in the distance stormed through the caves like goddess Karma’s wrath, hellbent on destroying the intruder. “And Friday, hurry up! The wind’s coming again.”
Jhi didn’t scare easily. He was a trained killer, the storied Ven-ad’tsay—the hunter of whatever his overlords desired. Only one thing set his teeth on edge, and that was falling into a pit of nothingness, trapped and lost and alone, with no way out. Walking through chaosgates unnerved him for that very reason. So, looking down and not seeing ground—a case of the willies broke out. Jhi never shared his greatest fear, and would never express it out loud, not to anyone, and for good reason. Never let others know your weakness or your enemies will exploit it.
Thankfully, Jhi set out on this expedition of sorts with Friday. Well, technically, Friday was back in Pandæmonia—the lucky bastard—but happily, the enchanted two-way com-device in Jhi’s ear still worked, thanks to goddess Seren. Right about now, Jhi could use all the goddess’ good luck and fortune.
From this point, Jhi had made quite a few jumps and was now out of options, what with the pillars crumbling around him like a soul-seller’s body after a mala’kha came a-reaping. He couldn’t even see the finish line. To be fair, the finish line had never presented itself in the previous trials, so why stop now?
As the tornadic winds fast approached, Jhi dipped down again and held on for dear life. The stormy winds knocked off his well-worn beanie, blew back his chestnut hair, and pressed against his chest with all its might, his Henley ruffling behind his back. But Jhi held firm to the edge, his fingers white-knuckling the craggy sides. Then the wind stopped abruptly and retreated, most likely thinking up another plan of attack.
“So, you can’t jump anywhere?” Friday asked.
“Affirmative. It’s about ten soul cars in length between me and the pillar up ahead. You can forget left or right. They’re dust. Same for the ones behind me. And before you ask, climbing down isn’t an option.”
“Why? What’s down below?”
“Good question, Friday. I’m not sure. It’s too far for me to make out. Also, there might not even be a bottom.” Jhi could feel his face blanch from fright from just voicing that possibility.
“Magic still a no-go?”
“It sure is, buddy.” This realm forbade magic—something Jhi had learned during trial number one.
“Caves of Altira’me-tum,” Friday said, more like a thought. “Roughly translated to Caves of Nightmares—”
“Friday? Come in, Friday. You there?”
Nothing but static responded.
“Dammit!” Jhi removed the earpiece, then took a breather by sitting down cross-legged. “Wow, didn’t think I’d go out like this.” Until today, Jhi had been in his fair share of perilous situations, including encountering the lu’kowsa. But these caves offering no chance of escape took the cake.
Jhi had to reach the end of this quest; he had to retrieve the relic. Death wasn’t an option. It wasn’t an out. Not for Jhi. Death, for Jhi, meant something far worse than beings could imagine.
“Goddess Seren,” Jhi said to the empty air. “I could really use your help. I know I’ve done a few horrible things. Okay, fine. There’s been more than a few. I’ve killed some beings, or a lot of beings, actually. But they deserved it. Sure, I’ve broken hearts, but the girls cursed me in return, so doesn’t that even out? You can’t force love, right?” He chuckled, thinking it ridiculous that he confessed his sins to a goddess who probably couldn’t care less. “Anyways, I have a proposition for you. If you help me out, I’ll pay it forward and give a helping hand to a poor bastard, one much like myself, who’s nearing the end of their rope. Sound like a deal?”
Everlasting silence pervaded.
“Seren, you there?” Jhi’s echo was all that kept him company. “I’m losing my mind.”
Jhi knew his efforts at praying and offering his blood as a sacrifice to goddess Seren might prove fruitless, but it was worth a shot. In a last-ditch effort, he sliced his palm on a jagged-edge rock and used his blood to trace an intricate pattern in the air, his index finger elegantly twisting and turning, a single dot here, three horizontal slashes there, a triangle and an interlocking whorl.
A few minutes passed, and Jhi sighed.
And then the air crackled. Before Jhi, Seren’s sigil materialized, glowed fiercely, and mushroomed in size. Then it popped out of sight.
A feeling within Jhi gave rise to a clear-cut voice inside his mind that told him to do the most ludicrous thing imaginable, second to bargaining with a demon. Jump! the voice said.
“Nah. I’m good,” Jhi replied.
Jump now!
“Still good.”
Jump before the wind returns and knocks you off the pillar; otherwise, you are a dead man!
The wind snarled and shot his way.
Jhi, about ready to vomit, his heart pounding, his body quivering, let loose a few unsavory curse words, then leaped off the edge.
Free falling, his arms pinwheeling, eyes stinging from the frigid air piercing them, he landed with a soft thump on the silty ground.
Grunting, he pulled himself to his feet and immediately spotted what he had quested for—Yad Id’danos, roughly translated to the Hand of Destiny, thought to be a legend. But there it was. A mystical golden glow limned the sacred relic that rested on a dais in the middle of a temple. And it was all Jhi’s.
Jhi laughed. He couldn’t believe he had made it, that he had found it. That ten feet stood between him and his freedom—
A whirling noise served as a prelude to a chaosgate materializing and the door of a rukba gliding open.
“No! No-no-no-no!” Jhi bit his lip while considering his next course of action. What if it was another trial? The ultimate test? And he had to fight whoever or whatever stepped out?
He hid in a shadowy corner of the temple to size up his enemy before striking, then quickly traced a defense sigil on the floor to act as a trap, but it remained inert. The elements continued to ignore his commands, and magic gems proved useless. Perhaps there was something here he could use as a weapon. Still, they wouldn’t see what was coming—Jhi!
A girl stepped out of the elevator—a human girl from the looks of it.
Oh, come on! Jhi thought, pissed off, bloodied, and bruised. He had tried countless times to open chaosgates during his earlier trials, to no avail.
When the girl came into focus, Jhi immediately thought, Hello, goddess, her striking beauty taking him aback. It was hard not to appreciate all five-foot-whatever of her, that slight frame, her form-fitting jeans, tight sweater, and perky breasts.
When she made a beeline for the Hand of Destiny, Jhi snapped out of his trance. Well played, gods! Then he stormed to the relic, beating her—the ultimate test?—to the punch.
Jhi swiped the relic before the girl could. “Not so fast. I don’t know how you did what you just did”—he waved his finger toward the waiting rukba—“but this is mine.”
Her sultry, whiskey-hued eyes opened wide with shock. “I—I wasn’t expecting you.” She seemed thunderstruck. Then stammered more to herself, “This surprise wasn’t foreseen.”
“Same thing my mother said when she found out she was pregnant with me. Let’s just say she was none too pleased, just like you, sweetheart. Listen—”
“Don’t call me sweetheart,” she said measuredly.
“No? What should I call you?” Jhi fished.
“The girl who killed you.”
Quite the firecracker, she was—a quality that immensely appealed to Jhi. “Look, we obviously came for the same thing.”
“Yes. But only one of us will chaosnaut out of here alive. And that would be me.”
“Whoa, now. That sounds awfully murdery. Let’s talk about this. Maybe we can strike a deal.” Jhi’s first deal with Seren worked, so perhaps he was on a role. “What can I offer you? Name it, and it’s yours.”
“Nothing. You don’t understand. I need the Hand of Destiny.”
She rushed toward Jhi, but he dodged her lunge. “Oh, I understand. I need it, too, or I’m a dead man.”
That response seemed to resonate with her. But it was short-lived. “I don’t want to kill you, but I will if I have to.”
Dear Seren, the girl was serious.
She stepped back as if retreating, then hooked a loose tendril of her long, caramel hair behind her ear while biting her bottom lip, her long lashes fluttering.
Jhi asked, “Can I at least know the name of the most beautiful woman to have graced my presence?” He wasn’t above using charm as a tactic.
“JD. And yours?”
“Jhi.”
She let out a cute giggle. “Rhymes with die.”
Jhi cocked his head and said, “I guess you could say that,” then searched the area frantically for anything he could use for self-defense.
JD produced a fiery whip fashioned from the elements, cracked it, and knocked Jhi off his feet. When his head banged into the limestone and smarted something fierce, JD grabbed the Hand of Destiny from his grasp.
While hovering above Jhi, she said, “If it’s any consolation, this is about something bigger than you or I—” Blood-curdling, soul-quaking wails sounded from nowhere and everywhere. JD’s pupils dilated. She whipped her head about, then returned her focus to Jhi, intimate knowledge written all over her face, which bespoke danger. “I’m sorry.” JD sprinted to the chaosgate.
“Sorry, for whaaa—” The stench of death and decay assaulted Jhi’s nostrils, and he nearly vomited. He quickly recalled just what that stench heralded.
Banshee-like shrieks pierced the airwaves, and Jhi clasped his hands over his ears to halt any bleeding. Wraiths—they were everywhere. Crawling out of the crevices, corners, and ceiling, their trajectory split between Jhi and JD. Their skin, taken from their prey and shoddily stitched together, formed a mockery of a body. Melted faces and hollowed-out eyes filled with hellfire, they carried spectral swords used for piercing souls in their bony hands.
Wraiths were the zombies of Hell dimensions, the haunters of the Spirit Realm, one-track minds that smelled fear and fed on flesh. But they needed souls desperately to keep a firm footing on the ground, to remain somewhat whole, doomed to live their lives forever on the hunt. And if you were one of the unlucky ones to cross their path, your odds of survival were slim to none.
Hurriedly, JD uncorked a vial and tossed its bloody contents into the air. A wraith picked up the scent of her fear and zipped through the air, closing the distance between it and JD. Right as the ghoulish phantom extended its cold, undead talons, its flesh-tearing nails touching JD’s arm, the chaosgate fired into existence.
The second the rukba doors glided open, JD hopped inside the waiting elevator. In her haste to escape, the vial must have slipped from her fingers. Jhi heard it ping to the ground and roll to a dark corner.
JD cursed her mistake, popped her head out of the rukba, and gave a cursory search for the vial. But a wraith thwarted her attempt to grab the glass container. Though visibly irked, she tossed a smile and a wave goodbye to Jhi right as a wraith pinned him down, and others piled on top of him in a feeding frenzy.