To Wander in Purgatory (Vendrix Book 2)

By Stephanie Flores

Maybe entering the Path of Fatality was a mistake...

But then again, how hard could two more obstacles, pacifying a vindictive demon, and an assassination be?

For Brevle and Wulard, the longer it takes to defeat Marnivus, the longer they must wait to reunite with their lost loved ones.

For Valen, each passing day reveals that his feelings are one-sided as Zendra cozies up to the infuriating prince that latched himself to the group’s mission.

For Zendra, this Path could only be described as a tortuous form of endless purgatory. It’s not enough that she disappointed her comrades by dying on the first obstacle or that she has to be bludgeoned to stifle her demon inhabitant before it kills them all. Nope, her enemy also felt she should dream of his tormented childhood. Each journey into Marnivus’ past brings haunting revelations of their similarities.

How blurred are the lines between hero and villain?

Regardless of their pessimism, they must still band together, and will their legs to forge through the Path of Fatality. What other choice do they have?

**This is the 2nd book in The Vendrix Duology. Not meant to be read first.**

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stephanie Flores
• Release date: Sep 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005011086

Stephanie Flores

Stephanie Flores was born, and still continues to live in Miami, Florida with her husband, screeching 7 month old, and pain-in-the-neck mutt. When she's not swatting the thousands of mosquitoes in the area, she's teaching science and art to middle school students.What better person to envision a fully imaginary world than someone who teaches pre-teens all day?As a child, her obsessions were turtles, dragons, bats, Greek mythology, and pizza--not much has changed in adulthood.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Explain to me again why Wulard couldn’t come? Brevle asked, swiveling the map in his hands, trying desperately to decipher Wulard’s notes under the shadow of the forest canopy.

Valen sat on a rock, an elbow on one knee, and his hand cupping a cheek. He said that any journey that contained an odd number of people was doomed to failure.

Brevle groaned. His eyes landed on Zendra for confirmation. She stopped blowing on the dandelion she’d picked up, and simply clucked like a chicken in response. Wulard found his scapegoat in the form of the young, virile Prince Kraven.

It had been over a week since Zendra, Valen, Brevle, and Wulard had passed the first obstacle: The Cave of Choice. Zendra slapped a mosquito that fed on her neck, flicking the remnants off her palm. They’d done nothing but wander in the humidity following trails that led nowhere since the Kraken incident. Her dreams were still haunted by the tortured childhood of her parents’ murderer, yet they weren’t any closer to finishing the two other obstacles on the Path of Fatality. Even the Victus Lameit warmed her veins, yearning for any kill that could entertain it. Unless you have a tracking spell for the next obstacle, you’re going to have to be just as patient as the rest of us.

Grumbling, Brevle stomped his way through a small trail framed by thick vines. No one followed. That path was the one they’d just come from. Brevle would figure it out eventually and come back.

The search for the second obstacle was proving hopeless. They were equipped with a parchment that had a drawing of Davrid’s cottage with one arrow pointing to another drawing of a willow tree labeled Forest of the Enchanted farther down the map.

That was it. That was the only thing leading them through the labyrinth of foliage.

When Wulard had proudly announced he’d rummaged through Davrid’s maps and found one pertaining to the second obstacle that was better than his own, everyone lifted him up, declaring him a hero. Upon seeing the actual map, the temptation to strangle him was strong, but he’d tugged on their clothes, pleading that they attempt to follow his directions.

And attempt they did.

However, as the sun crept lower in the sky, bug bites branded any unclothed body part, sweat made fabric cling to the skin, and the urge to move forward dwindled. Zendra’s gag reflex came into play as well. Kraven’s pores reeked of the heavily onioned rabbit stew from last night.

As Brevle stormed back towards the group, the map crumpled in one clenched hand and the moisture forcing his tunic to hug his portly curves, Zendra stated, Let’s head back. We’ll try a different route tomorrow.

Brevle raked his hands aggressively through his hair and unkempt beard, before finally nodding.

Patting his friend on the shoulder, then grimacing when his palm came back soaked, Valen added, And maybe, we don’t let Brevle lead.

Before Brevle could lunge at Valen, a sweet and cheery, yet unrecognizable voice chimed in, Are you all lost?

Gasps were heard all around, and Zendra practically had to walk up to each of the men and close their hanging jaws when they spotted the woman who spoke.

Woman might not have been the correct term. Angel, goddess, ethereal being, or perfection, those terms might have been better.

Not only did this mysterious female fill the air with the smell of lilacs and cinnamon as she approached, an aura of light exuded from her hourglass figure and heavenly sculpted facial features. How does anyone smell like that on this Path?

Zendra gritted her teeth as she tried to curb the immediate jealousy and hatred that simmered underneath her skin, but the goofy expression on Valen’s face and his wobbly legs as the vixen neared were almost enough to set the Victus Lameit free. You may get your entertainment after all, demon.

My name is Aleera, I’ve lived on this Path for several years now. I may be of some use to you, she stated, tilting her head and pursing her lips at the end of each sentence. She offered her hand to all the men, bowing and flicking her golden hair behind her shoulder. Not a strand of frizz around her. The men had to wipe the drool off their mouths, before bowing and kissing the top of her hand.

Zendra did her best to bow without a snarl, but she couldn’t keep her eyes from narrowing and her hand still gripped the hilt of her sword.

Brevle was the first to break from the daze. We’re searching for a small willow tree.

Aleera scrunched her face up in thought, rolling her shoulders back to amplify her already larger than average bosom. All three men had noticed. I don’t know if I would consider it small, but I do know of a willow tree only a short day’s walk from here.

You hear that, Zendra? Brevle nudged her arm. She’s going to lead us.

Zendra dug her nails into his arm.

So, who would like to accompany me? I do not want to stand alone as we travel to the tree, Aleera pouted, tightly clasping her hands in anticipation.

You were alone when you stumbled on us, Zendra sneered, earning a flicker of a scowl, before a bright smile alighted itself on Aleera’s face again.

Kraven slithered an arm over Zendra’s shoulder and drew her near. I’m afraid I am spoken for.

Zendra closed her eyes, stifling the vomit that wanted to rise from the stench emanating from his armpit. Brevle raised his hand to volunteer, but Valen crept to Aleera’s side and entwined their arms, loudly commenting, It appears I am available. I would be honored to escort you.

Zendra tightened the knots on her cloth constrictions.

They wandered the forest, following the same routine they’d had for several days now. They swatted at the pain from the insect bites, flinched when a screech emanated from behind rocks or bark, and cursed whenever their shins were hit by a low-lying branch or rock. Zendra’s aggravation only grew as her hair frizzed past her ears, perspiration dripped down her back, and the smell of her own exertion and past dinners kept wafting into her nose. The fact that Valen and Aleera were walking in front, giggling and flirting as if they were strolling down a garden and not this humid Path of certain death didn’t help either.

She scrutinized every one of Aleera’s details as they walked, still trying to figure out if the hate she felt was just jealousy or if something was amiss with this perfect specimen. Based on her tattered clothes, which were standard garments for daywear in the kingdom, Aleera must have seduced or refused someone who had the authority to exile her into the Path. In the snippets of Aleera and Valen’s conversation that Zendra could hear, Aleera had mentioned her town, which Zendra had seen on one of Davrid’s maps. I still don’t trust her.

At the brink of exhaustion, and with dusk painting the clouds above, they arrived at the willow tree Aleera had mentioned. Although beautiful, with its thick gnarled bark and alternating branches that held cascades of green leaves, the lack of signs, poetry-spouting skeletons, and Marnivus’ presence meant this wasn’t the second obstacle. Zendra couldn’t help but smile. As much as she wanted to move further on this Path, she didn’t want to owe this vixen anything.

Clicking her tongue with forced sadness, Aleera ushered Valen towards a carved wooden bench overlooking a pond, wanting to continue their conversation about how the kingdom outside the Path had changed.

The dark of night forced its way through the leaves in the canopy, and screeches echoed from both birds of prey and the bunnies. Kraven and Brevle were anxious to retreat to Davrid’s cottage. When they called for Valen to follow, he waved them off and shuffled closer to Aleera on the bench.

Zendra growled. How quickly I’ve been forgotten! Brevle placed his hand on the small of her back, leading her away. Regardless of Aleera’s mind-numbing beauty, Brevle didn’t seem to trust this stranger either. Why else would he have ensured they could say the cottage’s phrase without her overhearing?

Out of earshot, Kraven shouted the donkey phrase that would reveal the house’s door. When it appeared, he entered. Zendra hesitated. This is the Path of Fatality, if even the dragonflies are deadly, someone that gorgeous would’ve already been a wizard’s bride.

She groaned inwardly, closing the door behind Kraven, and creeping back to their location, settling behind a tree away from their line of sight.

Brevle whispered, having followed her to spy on the two now snuggling on the wooden bench. You know, this is considered stalking in my kingdom.

Zendra scoffed, climbing up the tree to take a seat on a thick branch that was hidden by the leaves. "I’m not stalking, I’m protecting him. I don’t trust her."

Sounds like something a stalker would say.

She snapped off a twig from the tree and threw it down at Brevle. Go back to Davrid’s.

He chuckled. And miss this? Do me a favor, will you? If you two get into a fight, can you please make it happen inside the pond? And if you could somehow rip off her clothing, I’ll never ask you for another thing, I promise.

He dodged another flying twig coming towards his face.

* * *

Aleera leaned her head on Valen’s shoulder, sighing contentedly as they gazed at the bits of night sky that the trees allowed them to see.

You must have been so frightened. Forced to enter this Path, just because you didn’t love your betrothed? Valen gulped as Aleera’s finger traced circles around his chest. He was conflicted. As beautiful and enticing as Aleera was, this wasn’t who he craved. He only heard a fraction of the things she talked about, his mind kept drifting to Kraven’s announcement and the fact that Zendra said nothing to refute it.

When Aleera kissed the side of his neck, his body questioned whether the distraction would be good for him. She’d chosen another, why couldn’t he? As soon as he thought the question, Zendra’s face, illuminated by the sparkling hay and imbued with hope, filled his thoughts.

Thoughts that shouldn’t be happening while another was in his arms. Damn her!

He leaned away from Aleera, holding both her hands and rehearsing his rejection within his mind. Before he could speak, she licked her lips and stated, You smell like baked bread and honey. You must taste incredible.

Odd description, seeing as how he was bathed in sweat and the blood of swatted insects.

He stood, the intensity of her stare on his neck unnerving him. Removing his grip from her hands, he slowly walked backwards, her eyes following each rise and fall of his Adam’s apple with a predatory gaze. His legs wobbled, and his heart raced as she hunched over, her jaw extended, and each tooth grew in length and pointed at the tip. What the hell?

What was once a woman to gawk at and idolize, now appeared like a creature with hunger evident in each drop of her saliva. He readied a spell in his mind, not wanting to agitate her by getting a weapon. One more lick of her lips and she launched herself off the ground, but before he could emit a spell, a coil of purple magic blasted towards Aleera’s torso, throwing her several feet onto her back.

Zendra leapt out of the tree, stalking towards Aleera’s body, not once turning to see his shocked expression. She unsheathed her sword, her eyes blinking back to brown. She doesn’t want the Victus Lameit to have this kill? Is she jealous?

Brevle grabbed Valen before he could help, and shoved him behind a tree, You will not interrupt! Zendra and I have a deal.

Aleera stood, her clawed hands shaking off any dirt or debris from her body. Zendra stood in front, sword at the ready, rage fueling her every action. The beautiful creature growled, extending her jaw further, emphasizing the size of her teeth. They watched each other, snarls and grunts from both sides, a step in opposite directions, slowly tracing a circle. Aleera fell to all fours, roaring as she lunged towards Zendra.

The speed caught her by surprise, but she swung her sword and clipped one of Aleera’s haunches, just as a claw scraped the side of her arm.

Aleera’s scythe-like fingernails removed more flesh than Valen thought it would.

Don’t you dare, Brevle whispered, gripping his arm. Valen hadn’t even noticed he’d advanced closer to the fight. She wants this kill, don’t take it from her.

* * *

Gritting her teeth with the pain, and her ears drumming from the howl of the injured beast, Zendra attacked. Aleera ducked the strike of her sword but her ear got severed at the base.

She fumed, clawing frantically in front, inflicting multiple wounds in a matter of seconds. Zendra retreated backwards, trying to plunge the sword or hack another part of her body off. However, with the speed of Aleera’s advancement, a sword was proving too long. Zendra tried grabbing the knife in her boot, but Aleera’s swipes were relentless.

Spots flickered in Zendra’s eyes. Apparently, she’d bled in more places than she’d thought.

Zendra kicked forward, her boot crushing the beast’s ribcage. Aleera doubled over, cradling her stomach, granting Zendra the moment she needed to grab the knife in her boot. The boys appeared from the forest, weapons at the ready, but she shook her head, wiping the blood from her forehead before it could enter her eyes. Neither the men nor the Victus Lameit would have this victory—not to mention that the Victus Lameit’s plan also included the death of the others.

She hadn’t sidled up to the vain prince so Valen could die on this Path by some gorgeous creature’s hands.

Aleera spat out blood, the side of her lip lifting with a growl. Zendra took a few paces back, hitting the bark of a tree. Aleera was going to charge again, and she needed something that would keep her upright. He’s mine!

Zendra cringed in anticipation, wishing for a better plan than the one she had. As Aleera pounced, clamping her jaw down on Zendra’s left shoulder, she plunged the knife deep inside her abdomen. Brevle swung his sword, separating Aleera’s head from her body.

Removing the knife from within her stomach, and seeing Aleera’s slack-jawed severed head, Zendra fainted.

Chapter 2

You reneged on our deal, Brevle teased, patting some of Zendra’s deeper injuries with a damp cloth.

She sucked in air and tightly shut her eyes as he passed the cloth around her shoulder wound. I never agreed to a water fight. Let alone a naked one.

You should have just let the Victus Lameit explode her. He lifted a needle and thread, searching her eyes for permission.

Grinding her teeth, she nodded, turning her head to the right, not having the stomach to look. Her eyes watered and her lip trembled as she stared at the dust that clung to the windowsill in Brevle’s room. She counted the amount of spider webs that called the room’s corner home as he stitched the wound closed. I know you’re desperate to throw something else at my head, but you’ll just have to be patient.

He chortled, attempting to be as gentle as he could be with each insertion of the needle. I don’t understand why Valen’s spell won’t heal this.

Davrid described a creature like her in his journal. Their bites are poisonous, that’s probably why the spell won’t work. She didn’t feel the prick of the needle anymore. He couldn’t have sewn her up that quickly. When she turned to him, his eyes were closed, and his hand trembled, hovering over her wound. She placed her hand on his shoulder. It’s not fatal.

He released a breath and continued, cringing as she tried to hide a wince.

* * *

Valen opened the door to his room, surprised to see Zendra propped up on a dresser as Brevle tended to her wounds. A gasp escaped him when he saw her state. She lifted her quivering arm to cast a spell that shut the door in his face and locked it.

He stood in the hall, the closed door near his nose, registering what he’d just seen. Her head bobbed on her shoulders, half asleep, half awake. Her skin was as pale as milk, and it only enhanced the purple under her eyes and the bruises that marred her skin.

He unlocked the door with another spell and stormed in. Brevle wrapped a cloth on top of her stitches. The words Valen spoke came out gruffer than he wanted, but he couldn’t stop the hint of jealousy that she’d gone to Brevle instead of him to address her wounds. You still have much to learn about magic. Don’t use spells that have a simple counter.

Thank you for that highly sought-after piece of advice. What can I do for you, Valen? she said through gritted teeth. Brevle stepped aside, having finished.

You’re angry at me? I did nothing wrong! How was I supposed to know what she was?

Well, if you weren’t staring at her breasts the entire time, you’d have seen all the obvious hints! she shouted as Brevle helped her off the dresser with a smirk.

Valen’s chest puffed up in anger, half at seeing Brevle with his arm around her waist and half because of her retort, Excuse me, princess. I didn’t know you were the only one allowed to share a bed on this Path.

Her eyes widened, the sound of her grinding teeth filling the silence in the room. She wobbled over to Valen, stopping Brevle from helping her walk, and slapped him before storming out of the room.

Valen cupped his cheek, the pain having been more than he’d imagined, and turned to Brevle. She slapped me?

I’d have done worse, Brevle said, cleaning up the blood that had pooled on the dresser.

You’re taking her side?

Well, let’s see. You insulted her magic capabilities, didn’t thank her once for saving your life, then questioned her virtue.

We don’t know what she’s done with him, Valen said, crossing his arms across his chest, unwilling to look Brevle in the eye. He was being childish, he knew, but dammit if this woman didn’t cater to his insanity.

In all the time we’ve been at Davrid’s, have you even seen them kiss? Brevle retorted, making a collection of bloodied rags on the floor. Valen shook his head. Then what makes you think she’s been to his bed?

Valen sat, exhaling loudly, his rage dying down. Was she jealous, or did she just want to ensure a formidable group member was safe?

Brevle approached him, placing his hands on his shoulders. I know you care for her, Valen, but this Path isn’t a game. You need to focus on the dangers, and your abilities, or you will lose your life!

Valen scoffed. I have been nothing but an asset on this Path! You can’t blame me for being kidnapped!

I’m not blaming you for being kidnapped! I’m blaming you for almost killing yourself and Zendra, just to make her jealous! He pushed down on Valen’s shoulders in frustration. She has enough things on her mind already, she doesn’t need to be looking out for you as well.

I never asked her to! Valen yelled, pushing Brevle off him.

But she always will, Brevle stated, turning to walk out the door.

Why didn’t she heal the wound?

Brevle paused at the doorframe. The claw marks will heal slowly, but the poison in her system from the bite can’t be removed. Valen stood in alarm. She won’t die, but I don’t envy her night.

Valen stayed in their room throughout dinner, not wanting to rehash any fights by bumping into Brevle or Zendra. Also, he didn’t want to see Kraven fawning over her wounds at the dinner table. Brevle entered a few hours later, silently placing a plate full of food on the dresser. He then climbed into bed and quickly fell asleep.

Guilt getting the best of him, Valen left the room and knocked on Zendra’s door, praying Kraven wouldn’t be in there.

Go away, Kraven, she said from the other side of the door.

He smiled, then twisted the handle, opening the door. It’s me, Valen.

The door slammed shut, this time hitting him in the nose with the speed of the spell. He unlocked it, magically, and slid into her room amid her voiced protests. I thought we just talked about this spell.

"I thought slamming a door in someone’s face was the universal signal for get out," she croaked, her voice strained.

He let his eyes adjust to the darkness, finding it odd her voice came from the corner of the room, and not her bed. Please, I just wanted to apologize.

It’s fine, Valen, just go, she wheezed.

Everything in her voice oozed pain, and he couldn’t keep his alarm or curiosity dormant anymore. He whispered the light spell she had used in the dungeon, illuminating her room as she screamed an objection.

He gasped.

Zendra was huddled in the corner on the floor in fetal position. Her body trembled, her breathing was erratic, and she alternated between dry heaving and vomiting. The wooden pail next to her was already full.

He crouched down beside her, wary to touch anything and wracking his brain for a spell or cure. Blood oozed from the bandages, and underneath her skin were tones of black following the lines of her circulatory system.

Brushing the hair away from her face, he whispered, I’ll find something to help you, I promise.

He barely noticed the nod she gave him as he rushed out to ransack Davrid’s journals, trying to find anything that mentioned a way to soothe or hurry the process of expelling the poison. Stumbling upon a tiny notebook, he found something that might remedy her situation.

Valen opened her door, not waiting for permission. She was still in the corner, but her eyes were tightly closed, and her chest lifted with each inhale from between her clenched teeth. He scooped her up in his arms, waiting for the barrage of protests, but she just curled herself closer to him, gripping his tunic with whimpering breaths.

As they passed the door to Davrid’s study, maps and journals strewn all over the floor, Zendra muttered, Davrid’s going to kill you. She whispered a spell under her breath, and Valen saw from the corner of his eye, the books on the floor shaking themselves off and wobbling over to where they belonged on the shelves.

Valen chuckled, placing his chin atop her head. The amount of pain she was in and she still worried about him.

What an infuriating, loveable woman.

His footsteps quickened with each of her shudders. He led her outside towards a stream in the back of Davrid’s property. Kneeling, he submerged her body under the flow of the cool water, recited a spell, and explained that it should ease the pain. Keeping her head afloat but holding her torso underneath the stream, he could only hope this would work.

Under the current, Zendra’s teeth stopped chattering. The black underneath her skin broke apart, her figure unclenched, and she sighed, the tension in her muscles easing in his hold.

He placed his forehead on top of hers. I’m sorry. My childish jealousy got you hurt. I’m supposed to be helping you— She placed her hand on his, gripping it tightly. He stayed silent, watching the pain fade from her soft features.

Aleera could never compare to you.

When she dozed off, he carried her back to her room.

* * *

Zendra woke. Her dreams showed that young Marnivus had finally been given a room of his own. His peers had accepted him. He would soon lose his childlike innocence. He’d acclimate to the hate that surrounded him. Maybe now the snippets of pity that tried stifling her hatred would disappear.

Her eyes fixated on the fresh new set of bandages on her shoulder. Valen had not only given her a remedy, but he’d nursed her wounds as well. Damn him!

The wound was still sore, but thankfully it seemed like her body had removed the poison from her system.

The bed creaked, startling her. Valen sat next to her on top of the comforter. His head was down, and a slight snore escaped him. She crawled out of bed as quietly as she could, biting her lip and cursing inwardly at how giddy she was to wake beside him. Spelling him to keep him from waking, she pulled on his feet so he’d lay down. It couldn’t be comfortable to sleep propped up by the backboard. She threw her half of the comforter on top of him, letting him get a better rest.

She walked over to the vase on her dresser, minimizing the wooden lilacs he’d given her. It’d be hard to explain why she was with Kraven but still cherished the flowers Valen had given her. She fixed her hair and removed all hints of vomit from the floor, before leaving the room to see the others, smiling over her shoulder at the man sprawled out on her bed.

Zendra walked down the hallway towards her room, two full plates of breakfast in her hands. Brevle opened his door, nodding his greeting.

You know, Valen never came back to the room last night, he stated, a mischievous grin on his face as he eyed the number of plates she had.

I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about, Brevle, she said, walking around him and into her room.

As she closed the door behind her, Valen stirred. He perused the room with half-opened eyes, opening his mouth and moistening his lips. When his eyes landed on Zendra, she bit her lip and waved timidly at him. He blinked at her, grogginess dissipating. He flew out of the bed, smoothing his tunic, and raking his hands through his hair. He stared at the floor. I wanted to make sure you didn’t wake up in pain again. I must have fallen asleep.

I understand, and I didn’t think otherwise. She smiled at how flustered he looked as he tried to straighten the sheets. She sat on the bed and handed him a plate. Truce?

Stealing a biscuit from her plate, he grinned. Truce.

She opened her mouth in shock. Pointing her finger at his food,