to them?”
“They linger. They cause mischief sometimes or worse. Some
are so tied to the vampire they are used to do his bidding.”
“And others?” Oliver prodded, thinking of Adonia and her
strange aura surrounded in black. Surely, she was not one of those stranded
souls. “Adonia?”
“Yes, some remain, neither dead nor alive. They are the
walking dead. It may be difficult for you to understand, but some long only to
leave this world and find peace in another place. He prevents that because of
his desire to keep the door between our worlds firmly closed. Some hate him for
it as much as I do. These souls I gather close to me until the time comes when
I am able to free them. In this world, as in all others, balance must be
maintained. When it is not, terrible things eventually happen. The Aztecs tell
of many worlds, existing at the same time in peace. When the balance is upset,
some of these worlds begin to threaten the others. If the balance is upset for
too long, it could be enough to shatter the universe. That time is dawning once
more.”
Oliver thought of the otherworld he and Miranda had glimpsed
in mirrors all their lives. Lobo was right—had things been different, he would
have enjoyed talking with him further and learning more about these other
worlds and what was required to keep the balance.
“You tried and failed to kill Azazel before, and surely
you’ve tried again. Why are you so certain I’m the one who can do it?”
“There has never been another like you , Mr. Ripley. Azazel Priest is your father.”
Chapter Thirteen
Oliver had been waiting for a bombshell,
something that Lobo thought would push him over the edge if he had any doubts
about killing Azazel Priest, but he’d never expected something like this.
“No one knows who my father is,” Oliver said, needing a
moment to gather his armor once more and build the wall that would prevent Lobo
from reading his mind while his emotions swirled inside of him.
“I understand that is what you were told. But, you must have
doubted that. Surely, someone had to know?” Lobo’s voice was steady, his gaze
unwavering. “Or, perhaps you doubted the entire story? Vampires breeding with
vampire hunters? It had to sound like complete and utter nonsense.”
That was true; Oliver had doubted everything Miranda’s
vampire hunter father had told them.
“I think it’s time you told me how you know these things,”
Oliver said. He was unsuccessful in keeping the tension from his voice.
“Fair enough. In your shoes, I would doubt everyone too.”
Lobo smiled. When Oliver did not reply or return his smile, he continued, “Just
as Azazel Priest binds some of the walking dead to him, many choose to remain
in my service as you have seen for yourself. Some of the ones who serve me are
deeply entrenched among those he and others trust.”
“Spies?” He was sure no walking dead spies had grown close
to anyone in his family. He’d never seen or heard of anyone who had the odd
auras Lobo’s servants had either.
“I prefer to think of them as messengers.”
“So, these messengers told you about Miranda and me? About
the experiment that resulted in our odd DNA?” It seemed far-fetched but
possible. Oliver was learning that just about anything was possible.
“Yes. The Vladula clan and your own Ripley family also put
the word out to all vampire and hunter families about you, so there’s not a
clan in the world that isn’t aware of your existence. Believe it or not, you
are lucky I found you first. Anyone else would have tried to kill you on sight
or collect the reward for capturing you and bringing you to those who would
rather experiment with you to see what doors you might be able to unlock with
your unusual abilities.”
“Not broken my bones, locked me up, and threatened to kill
my girlfriend?” Oliver said with a faint smile.
Lobo chuckled and shrugged, his dark eyes glittering. “As I
said before, most of that was unintended. On
“They linger. They cause mischief sometimes or worse. Some
are so tied to the vampire they are used to do his bidding.”
“And others?” Oliver prodded, thinking of Adonia and her
strange aura surrounded in black. Surely, she was not one of those stranded
souls. “Adonia?”
“Yes, some remain, neither dead nor alive. They are the
walking dead. It may be difficult for you to understand, but some long only to
leave this world and find peace in another place. He prevents that because of
his desire to keep the door between our worlds firmly closed. Some hate him for
it as much as I do. These souls I gather close to me until the time comes when
I am able to free them. In this world, as in all others, balance must be
maintained. When it is not, terrible things eventually happen. The Aztecs tell
of many worlds, existing at the same time in peace. When the balance is upset,
some of these worlds begin to threaten the others. If the balance is upset for
too long, it could be enough to shatter the universe. That time is dawning once
more.”
Oliver thought of the otherworld he and Miranda had glimpsed
in mirrors all their lives. Lobo was right—had things been different, he would
have enjoyed talking with him further and learning more about these other
worlds and what was required to keep the balance.
“You tried and failed to kill Azazel before, and surely
you’ve tried again. Why are you so certain I’m the one who can do it?”
“There has never been another like you , Mr. Ripley. Azazel Priest is your father.”
Chapter Thirteen
Oliver had been waiting for a bombshell,
something that Lobo thought would push him over the edge if he had any doubts
about killing Azazel Priest, but he’d never expected something like this.
“No one knows who my father is,” Oliver said, needing a
moment to gather his armor once more and build the wall that would prevent Lobo
from reading his mind while his emotions swirled inside of him.
“I understand that is what you were told. But, you must have
doubted that. Surely, someone had to know?” Lobo’s voice was steady, his gaze
unwavering. “Or, perhaps you doubted the entire story? Vampires breeding with
vampire hunters? It had to sound like complete and utter nonsense.”
That was true; Oliver had doubted everything Miranda’s
vampire hunter father had told them.
“I think it’s time you told me how you know these things,”
Oliver said. He was unsuccessful in keeping the tension from his voice.
“Fair enough. In your shoes, I would doubt everyone too.”
Lobo smiled. When Oliver did not reply or return his smile, he continued, “Just
as Azazel Priest binds some of the walking dead to him, many choose to remain
in my service as you have seen for yourself. Some of the ones who serve me are
deeply entrenched among those he and others trust.”
“Spies?” He was sure no walking dead spies had grown close
to anyone in his family. He’d never seen or heard of anyone who had the odd
auras Lobo’s servants had either.
“I prefer to think of them as messengers.”
“So, these messengers told you about Miranda and me? About
the experiment that resulted in our odd DNA?” It seemed far-fetched but
possible. Oliver was learning that just about anything was possible.
“Yes. The Vladula clan and your own Ripley family also put
the word out to all vampire and hunter families about you, so there’s not a
clan in the world that isn’t aware of your existence. Believe it or not, you
are lucky I found you first. Anyone else would have tried to kill you on sight
or collect the reward for capturing you and bringing you to those who would
rather experiment with you to see what doors you might be able to unlock with
your unusual abilities.”
“Not broken my bones, locked me up, and threatened to kill
my girlfriend?” Oliver said with a faint smile.
Lobo chuckled and shrugged, his dark eyes glittering. “As I
said before, most of that was unintended. On
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