Oblivion Heart (Darkling Mage 4)

“Kill the meek and the powerless,” Sam breathed, his voice shaking. “Then only those who wield magic will survive.”

My heart stopped. That was the plan? To wipe out the normals?

“The siren was only a test,” Adriel said. “To see if the Tome’s magic would work as I intended. Now I mean to cast a much more powerful ritual, one that your filthy monkey brethren will transmit for me through your heathen technology. How fitting, yes? That mankind’s greatest achievements would bring about its downfall.”

“Brother,” Sam said. “Don’t do this.”

“It is done, Samyaza. The culling has begun. These apes will activate their devices, and my voice and my words will be sent to the cow-eyed masses that sit in front of their glass boxes. They will hear. And they will see. And they will die.”

“No,” I said. “That’s insane.”

“It may take years yet, perhaps decades for the Old Ones to finally penetrate this reality. Or they may come tomorrow. None but they may know. But before that time comes, what is left of humanity will be free to breed, to create offspring that is stronger, more adept in the use of sorcery than anyone could possibly imagine.” Adriel’s eyes shone with wetness as he spoke, his hands spread palms out, his face raised to the sky. “This is for the greater good of humanity, to give it a fighting chance against the Old Ones. This is for the betterment of mankind.” He looked at each of us in turn, smiling. “It is heaven’s will.”

“Lies,” Sam said, stepping forward, his fists shaking. It took everything I had to hold him back. “Lies and madness.”

“Dude,” I said. “Don’t. Not yet.”

Angels, it turns out, were hella strong, as if I hadn’t watched him punch people into jelly already. But I didn’t want Sam attacking yet. We hadn’t even spotted Bastion. This was absolutely a trap.

“Vanitas,” I thought. “Kill the cameras.”

“Gladly.”

He spun into action, circling the room, smashing with joyful abandon, his telepathic voice laughing in my head the entire time. The Comstock employees under Adriel’s command remained eerily still, staring at nothing even as their equipment crashed and splintered into plastic fragments and frayed wire.

Vanitas looped around the studio back to me, the path of his flight sounding very much like a low whistle of satisfaction.

“No cameras, no broadcast,” I said, maybe a little more smug than I should have been.

“Charming,” Adriel said. “And certainly a noble attempt at stopping the culling, if only your technology hadn’t progressed to such impressive heights. Even the smallest device would be sufficient for recording, would it not?”

“True,” a voice called out from behind the set. “There’s always the internet.” Bastion appeared, his eyes silvery white, and as he gestured a smartphone the size of his hand floated towards Adriel. “Destroy that if you want to, Dustin, but we’re ready for you. More mics and cameras are hidden around the studio, more than you can possibly find in time.”

“Shall we play a game?” Adriel said. “I understand you have unusual talents, Dustin Graves. Shall you use them to raze this very chamber, and all the people in it, just to stop me?”

Damn it. So they were prepared. But Adriel was the source of all the trouble, wasn’t he? There were shadows, all around him. I

just needed to focus, to peel back the lining between Here and the Dark Room. I shut my eyes and sent out my intent, my petition. My scar ached as I began to call on the blades that lurked in the shadows, and all across my body my skin stung as the Dark prepared to exact its price in blood –

When a force slammed into my chest and catapulted me off my feet, hard enough to send me flying. It was like being punched by a bridge troll, if that bridge troll had fists made out of fire trucks. A blinding pain smashed across my body as I thudded into a wall, then collapsed to the floor.

You know in cartoons, when someone gets injured and they see stars? I saw constellations. I saw fucking galaxies. And when I forced my eyes open, wincing against the monstrous ache in my head, I saw Bastion, his eyes burning like stars, his grin taunting, infuriating.

“Not so fast, Dusty,” he said.

God, I hated when he called me that. I hated even more that I was so helpless. I struggled, twitched, but couldn’t move, couldn’t budge from the ground. Bastion was holding me down with the force of his power. No, not just holding me down – crushing me.

“You just had to follow me, Dusty. I told you to leave us alone. I told you to walk away.”

I gasped, the massive pressure pushing the air full out of my lungs. “Sam,” I cried. “Get to Adriel. Stop him yourself.”

“I can’t,” Sam shouted.

I watched mournfully out of the corner of my eye as he rammed his open hand against something invisible. Adriel had directed Bastion to create one of his shields. That way he could finish the ritual unmolested, undisturbed.

But perhaps I wouldn’t be around for humanity’s extinction after all. Bastion’s power was pushing me harder and harder into the floor, grinding my body, so much that I knew I was going to bruise all over. Then the force pushed even harder, and that was when the pain turned into fear. Bastion wasn’t only trying to restrain me. He was trying to kill me.

“Vanitas,” I thought. “Help me. V. I’m dying.”