The latch depressed of its own volition, and there was the unmistakable click of a lock disengaging. The portal unhinged from its jambs, opening with an inexorable force and a manner that recalled the departure of his life force down upon that meadow’s soft bed of flowers, neither volunteered for nor deniable.
“No!” he called out to the milky sky. “I shall not proceed! I refuse—”
All at once, a swirling o’ertook him, the indistinct landscape casing ’round, or mayhap it was he who was turning and churning within it. And then there was a pulling, as if he had returned unto the birthing canal, his body sucked through a narrow aperture that he could not see, but most certainly sensed, the compression squeezing the air from his lungs and compressing his ribs such that his heart could no longer beat.
Nausea roiled within his gut, and his head became fuzzy, thoughts refusing to form properly—and yet what could he know about what was done unto him the now? He was alive no longer, his body an abode which had been locked by death’s key against his soul’s reentry . . . unless all his prayers to be of service unto his first cousin had been honored? Mayhap—
A free fall followed a sudden release of the stifling compaction, his senses informing him that he was set upon a descent through air that offered no sufficient drag to slow him down. And as he strained to see where he was, his vision left him. Throwing out his arms, he clasped at nothing. Kicking his legs, he encountered nothing. Twisting and turning . . . he came up against nothing.
And in the midst of it all, there was no fear, only rage, as was his nature.
Dhunhd.
Having rejected the gift of the Fade, having forsaken the eternity of love and life he had miraculously been given in spite of his earthly actions, he was now being punished for the temerity of attempting to determine his own destiny.
The Omega’s den of suffering was to be his infinity—
Without preamble, a stunning impact registered throughout his limbs, his torso, his skull. It was as if he landed flat upon his back on the most unforgiving of stone, but without the bounce that would have characterized such a fall from such a height.
Blackness.
Utter blackness.
A claustrophobic strangulation claimed his windpipe, and he began to pant, his breath, heavy and urgent, echoing close unto his ears . . . what madness was this? He seemed to be in an enclosed space. A tight-quartered, clearly defined space.
Placing his hands up—
Sahvage could not bring them unto his chest. There wasnae room for him to bend his elbows, and his knuckles rapped against something hollow.
Wood. Directly above him.
Kicking his feet, he encountered the same down at the terminal of his body. And spreading his arms a-width, he learned the limits of his confines, so narrow and contouring of the shape of his corporeal form.
His conscious intellect informed him of his location.
And even as his mind rejected the conclusion, and his temper rose to unsustainable levels, it was as yet inescapable.
Could he be in a coffin?
As Nate stared at the female he had spent all day thinking about, he felt suspended in thin air even though his feet were on the ground. She was just as he remembered, her pale hair streaming out from under the hood that covered her head, her hands hidden in the folds of her long, loose black coat. And as with before, she was off to the side, standing alone.
“Hi,” he said, lifting his hand.
When she took a step back, he put both his palms out. “I won’t hurt you, I promise.”
She didn’t move away any farther, but she looked behind herself as if to be reassured that the coast was clear for a dash. Or a dematerialize.
“I’m Nate.” He pointed to his chest—and then felt lame. Like there was anyone else around making intros? “Are you . . . did you come back to see this again?”
She glanced at the divot in the earth.
“It was amazing, right? Who’d have thought—a meteor. Out here?”
Nate cleared his throat and wanted to get closer to her. But he stayed where he was, and like an idiot, even though they were only six or seven feet apart, he spoke more loudly. You know, just to make sure she heard him.
Over the din of the absolutely quiet, no-sound-anywhere forest.
God, he was an idiot.
“My buddy Shuli and I were working.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “We’re helping renovate a house over there, across the field. Anyway, we saw the flash of light in the sky. Did you see the flash? It was amazing. So . . . ah, where are you from?”
Great. Next thing you knew, he’d be asking if she came here often. What her major was, even though they were vampires, not human. Whether she’d like a drink, in spite of a total absence of bartenders, liquor, or glasses anywhere near them.