it changed color. It was turning… orange ?
After the third blink, she hefted it upward as Kirin’s flames rushed out in a huge plume. The tulpa’s hands went to its head as it exploded. Now that it was weakened, the flames took hold and quickly enveloped the tulpa. It started weaving and spinning.
Groping through the black, she latched onto an arm and leaned against the side of the tulpa. Kirin had said the man had pushed him out. She threw herself against the membrane. No give.
Uh oh. What if they were still inside when the tulpa died?
It lurched toward the wall. On one side, she saw Kirin smashing into the tulpa. On the other, the wall coming fast. They hit with such force that the wall bowed outward. She lost her grip on the man.
The tulpa spun, smashing into walls and throwing Kirin to the side. It was melting under the heat of the fire, its thick essence dripping to the floor. She saw no way to get out except through the flames that sucked at her.
The man gripped her arm this time—terrified eyes the only part of him that was visible. She looked to the other side and saw a dragon-shaped projectile—fangs and lots of claws—diving toward her.
Oh, hell.
She felt the force of the Dragon shoving her out the other side of the tulpa. She, the man, and Kirin landed on the floor. The tulpa crackled and, in one terrifying moment, completely melted into a puddle on the floor. She watched, fearing that the liquid would re-form into some other ungodly thing. Instead, it dried up, leaving only a tarlike stain.
Kirin was man again, his gaze taking her in, his hands on her face and shoulders, making sure she was all right.
“I’m okay,” she whispered, her eyes scanning him. “You?”
He nodded, and then they both turned to see the man behind her.
With great effort, he was pulling himself to a sitting position.
Not Stein.
“ Daddy ?” She couldn’t comprehend it. Huff, not Stein. She scrambled over to him.
He lifted a trembling hand to her as she reached for him. “I’m sorry, hon. I almost got you killed. Both of you. I could see everything, but I couldn’t do a damned thing about it.” Agony lanced his words.
She hugged him, and his arms squeezed her tight. Relief swamped her, but questions did, too. “Are you all right? Nana said the tulpa could suck out your essence.”
“I could feel it draining day by day. I’m weak, but I’m all right.”
She sat back and reached for Kirin’s hand, hissing at the pain in her palms. “Dad, you made this thing to kill Stein?”
“I was rash. I see that now.” Shame drenched her father’s expression. “I discovered your mother’s journal.”
“I know. She was pregnant.”
“With Stein’s baby,” he growled.
“We don’t know that,” Kirin said without much conviction.
Huff went on. “She wrote how much she enjoyed being with Stein, how he made her feel like a Dragon again.”
“Romantically with him?” she asked.
“She didn’t say it straight out. When I got to the entry where she was pregnant I flipped. She told him first, and that could only mean it was his.” His anguish over that was clear. “He killed her.”
“We can’t be sure Stein hurt Mom.”
“ I’m sure. I had to do something.” He looked at Kirin, who had discreetly positioned himself so he was partially in the shadows. “I didn’t want to kill him.”
“But you sent the tulpa to his house,” Kirin said.
Her father bowed his head. “I was angry enough at Stein to hurt him, yes, but I created the tulpa to terrorize him into confessing. It came back and said, ‘Stein taken from me. No kill Stein. I want to kill.’ I think the tulpa absorbed my hatred for Stein and took it as a desire for him to be dead. When it couldn’t get Stein, it attacked me.”
Kirin’s eyebrows furrowed. “Stein was taken from it? What does that mean?” He wasn’t asking her dad; more like working it through in his mind.
“I didn’t mean for you to be hurt.” Her father
After the third blink, she hefted it upward as Kirin’s flames rushed out in a huge plume. The tulpa’s hands went to its head as it exploded. Now that it was weakened, the flames took hold and quickly enveloped the tulpa. It started weaving and spinning.
Groping through the black, she latched onto an arm and leaned against the side of the tulpa. Kirin had said the man had pushed him out. She threw herself against the membrane. No give.
Uh oh. What if they were still inside when the tulpa died?
It lurched toward the wall. On one side, she saw Kirin smashing into the tulpa. On the other, the wall coming fast. They hit with such force that the wall bowed outward. She lost her grip on the man.
The tulpa spun, smashing into walls and throwing Kirin to the side. It was melting under the heat of the fire, its thick essence dripping to the floor. She saw no way to get out except through the flames that sucked at her.
The man gripped her arm this time—terrified eyes the only part of him that was visible. She looked to the other side and saw a dragon-shaped projectile—fangs and lots of claws—diving toward her.
Oh, hell.
She felt the force of the Dragon shoving her out the other side of the tulpa. She, the man, and Kirin landed on the floor. The tulpa crackled and, in one terrifying moment, completely melted into a puddle on the floor. She watched, fearing that the liquid would re-form into some other ungodly thing. Instead, it dried up, leaving only a tarlike stain.
Kirin was man again, his gaze taking her in, his hands on her face and shoulders, making sure she was all right.
“I’m okay,” she whispered, her eyes scanning him. “You?”
He nodded, and then they both turned to see the man behind her.
With great effort, he was pulling himself to a sitting position.
Not Stein.
“ Daddy ?” She couldn’t comprehend it. Huff, not Stein. She scrambled over to him.
He lifted a trembling hand to her as she reached for him. “I’m sorry, hon. I almost got you killed. Both of you. I could see everything, but I couldn’t do a damned thing about it.” Agony lanced his words.
She hugged him, and his arms squeezed her tight. Relief swamped her, but questions did, too. “Are you all right? Nana said the tulpa could suck out your essence.”
“I could feel it draining day by day. I’m weak, but I’m all right.”
She sat back and reached for Kirin’s hand, hissing at the pain in her palms. “Dad, you made this thing to kill Stein?”
“I was rash. I see that now.” Shame drenched her father’s expression. “I discovered your mother’s journal.”
“I know. She was pregnant.”
“With Stein’s baby,” he growled.
“We don’t know that,” Kirin said without much conviction.
Huff went on. “She wrote how much she enjoyed being with Stein, how he made her feel like a Dragon again.”
“Romantically with him?” she asked.
“She didn’t say it straight out. When I got to the entry where she was pregnant I flipped. She told him first, and that could only mean it was his.” His anguish over that was clear. “He killed her.”
“We can’t be sure Stein hurt Mom.”
“ I’m sure. I had to do something.” He looked at Kirin, who had discreetly positioned himself so he was partially in the shadows. “I didn’t want to kill him.”
“But you sent the tulpa to his house,” Kirin said.
Her father bowed his head. “I was angry enough at Stein to hurt him, yes, but I created the tulpa to terrorize him into confessing. It came back and said, ‘Stein taken from me. No kill Stein. I want to kill.’ I think the tulpa absorbed my hatred for Stein and took it as a desire for him to be dead. When it couldn’t get Stein, it attacked me.”
Kirin’s eyebrows furrowed. “Stein was taken from it? What does that mean?” He wasn’t asking her dad; more like working it through in his mind.
“I didn’t mean for you to be hurt.” Her father
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