Nezuko Vines Novels & Stories

But before they could reach her, the ground beneath her feet erupted. Vines—real, brown, thorny vines—shot out of the earth and wrapped around the spheres, crushing them into scrap metal. "Kaima?" Selene whispered, looking at the ground. The tree was fighting back. But it wasn't fighting Rowan. It was fighting the *system*. The violet sap that had dripped onto the ground began to pulse. It spread across the grass like a glowing web, connecting the feet of every wolf in the valley. Suddenly, Harkan dropped his axe. His eyes went wide as the violet glow traveled up his legs and into his heart.

Low, amber strips that glow along the floorboards, creating a mood of heavy, golden anticipation. I walk to the back cabinet. It’s lacquered black wood, imposing and silent. I open it. Inside, coiled like sleeping snakes, are hanks of jute rope. They aren't the soft silk sashes we used before. These are raw, treated hemp. They smell of earth and oil. They have texture. They bite. Next to them sits a case lined in velvet. I open it. The Violet Wand. It’s an electro-stimulation device. A sleek, black handle with a glass electrode attachment shaped like a mushroom. It looks scientific, almost clinical, until you press the button and see the purple plasma arc crackle inside the glass.

Places both palms on the ground. The gold vines explode. Not from the Tree. From us. From the five of us. They shoot straight up. Hundreds. Thousands. A net. A tree made of light and bone and blood. Pride coos. The vines braid. Tight. A dome. Over Duskbane. Over the keep. Over the pack. Over the Hollow. The missile hits it. No boom. No fire. It stops. Mid-air. Like it hit water. The vine dome holds. Flexes. Then swallows it.

He didn't notice the vine. It started as a thin, emerald thread, pulsing with a light that looked like liquid neon. It didn't grow; it hunted. It coiled around my leaden ankles, its microscopic thorns biting into the dead metal. Where the vine touched the lead, the grey began to crack, revealing a core of brilliant, molten green. "Kross!" one of his scouts yelled, pointing toward the slums. "The 'Dormant' shack! Something’s happening!"

I positioned myself near Ken and deliberately failed a defensive spell. “Could you help me?” I asked sweetly. He adjusted my stance without meeting my eyes. “Keep your elbow higher. Your center is off.” “That’s it?” I tried to continue. Without saying anything else, he walked away. Every time I moved closer, he moved farther. Then I found Percy in the greenhouse. He was tending to glowing plants, looking really focused on them. I walked toward him. “They’re beautiful,” I said. “What are they?” “Moonvine,” he replied calmly. “They’re good for stabilizing volatile magic.”

Silently, I watched as Lazaro put the bathtub to work, letting the cold water do its thing as he mixed some honey and milky scented fluids into the tub and topped it up with some colored petals. I should have been turned on by how damn good his muscles was flexing when he moved the objects around. Admiring how much he was working just to get my fever down. But I guess I was too worked up to even notice when the panic had already creeped in, making me suck in some air as I stared down at my clenching palms.

Chalkos succumbed swiftly under his assault, eyes shutting as it crashed to the ground. As Chalkos fell, vines erupted from the trees, ensnaring Father Lysander's limbs. The bristlecone tree's spirit, capable of defeating Grand Masters, manifested its power through the vines. Oddly, the vines seemed impotent against Father Lysander. He stomped his feet with a thunderous boom, his body becoming as immovable as a mountain. The vines failed to budge him an inch. The vines rose, stabbing at Father Lysander. Green smoke, like an otherworldly release, emanated from the vines. The spikes, as hard as iron nails, some even reversed, danced in the air. Capable of easily tearing through skin and flesh,

The rogues lunged moving towards hazel with full speed and the one holding piper holding her even tighter, as piper whispered from the strong impact of the hold on her. Hazel raised one hand. And Vines exploded from the ground, thick, thorned, alive with a hungry sentience. They wrapped around the rogues' legs, their arms, their throats. Squeezing so hard until the men choked and gasped, they dropped their weapons in fear of dying and their eye balls bulged out of their sockets already red. The rogue holding piper released her immediately when a vine coiled around his neck like a serpent and he couldn't breath, he felt his life slowly drawing from him as his veins and blood vessels bulged sh