by Iris Walker
The lights dimmed as the vampire servants blew out several of the candles, the fireplace casting a warm glow on the room. Megan’s skin was hot, too hot, and she absentmindedly scratched at the golden choker, studded with diamonds, that hung on her neck during the day. Fausta glided back to the bench, sweeping Megan’s hair back so that it fell behind her shoulders. With a delicate touch, Fausta unclasped the choker and pulled the long golden chain, letting it pool in her hand, holding it in the space between them. Megan watched the firelight dance on the shiny metal, but her mind was plagued with need for that drug, for something. Fausta’s eyes danced on the necklace until they flicked up to hers, burning red orbs piercing her and holding her gaze. “You know, only loved pets are given collars,” she hummed. “The other creatures run around the streets, hungry, stray, forced to fight tooth and nail just to survive. But you only put a collar on an animal if you wish to claim it as your own, to protect it, to make it so that nothing will ever harm them. For you, it is the highest honor.”
Megan’s eyes were pulled towards those crimson lips, but she forced herself to stay calm, to bide her time. “Thank you, Mistress Fausta,” she whispered. Fausta’s smile deepened and she extended one pale finger, placing it delicately under Megan’s chin before drawing her closer and brushing those lips up against hers, sending Megan into that tumbling, floating oblivion.
Chapter 4 Sunset
Robin
After hours of training with Reykon, fighting, practicing forms and drills with his new weapons, they’d laid down on the beach and watched the deep night fade to periwinkle before returning to the shack. Sand slipped between their toes, an ever-permanent presence on the secluded beach. Robin watched Reykon’s silhouette move silently through the hall, through the doorway. She ran her eyes up and down the contours of his muscles, drinking him in and staring as long as she wanted. While there hadn’t been much fighting in the past six weeks, they were definitely finding ways to keep in shape. After all, there was an abundance of time and a lack of TV. Reykon admired his weapons once more before setting them on top of the dresser. “We should probably get some sleep…” he murmured.
“Sleep isn’t really what I had in mind for our wedding night,” she said quietly. She could see Reykon’s smile even through the shadows. Robin tugged the sleeve of her sundress down, letting her own skin shine through the drowsy dawn. Even in the darkness, there was a golden glow that clung to her, ever-present. Reykon groaned, a deep, throaty sound, and closed the distance between them in three steps. He slammed into her, knocking both of them back into the wall, his strong arms stopping her before the boards split.
That was another thing worthy of note: since their respective magical transformations, their strength had nearly doubled. Control, on the other hand, took practice. The first time they’d ‘celebrated’ their victory and separation from the rest of the world, they’d broken the bed, and, in one spot, the floor itself. His fingers gripped her, pressing into her skin, and she could feel the energy thrumming beneath them, that raw power that made their connection so much deeper. It was different than anything else she’d ever experienced. Like electricity, dancing at each place where their skin touched.
Powerful. Enthralling. Dangerous.
Reykon kissed her, his lips trailing from her neck to her shoulder, and down further, until a moan slipped out of her mouth and she raked her fingers through his hair. The heat in the room surged, and Reykon’s hand slid down her back, gripping her leg, pulling it up. She curled around him, melding herself to his body, her pulse pounding in her mind, hot and heavy. He let out a deep growl and ripped the other shoulder of her dress, the fabric tearing like paper. Robin caught his wrist, digging her fingers in. “Careful,” she warned, her voice deep and passionate. She leaned forward, her lips pressing against his ear. “Or I’ll make you,” she taunted.
He stiffened underneath her, pressing his forehead onto her chest and letting out a breathy groan. “Oh, fuck, Robin.”
She let her abilities rise, glowing, pressing her energy up against his. It wouldn’t have been the first time she’d siphoned from him to feel the connection, to make it a fair fight, if fighting was what you could call it. His grip on her tightened, and he trailed down her body, falling to his knees in front of her and gripping her there as he kissed her stomach, her hip. The dress pooled at her ankles, already forgotten. He moved down further, and Robin held onto him, pressing into the wall, bringing her leg up and over his shoulder as the burning need at her core surged.
Somehow, they moved to the bed. Like lightning meeting the ocean, they collided, holding onto each other as the throes of their passion rocked them back and forth. When neither of them could wait any longer, the energy soared, and Robin’s birthmarks flickered, glowing deep red until the tension released and left them panting, collapsed on the bed. She felt Reykon’s energy, the small sip she’d taken, dancing underneath her skin, electric inside of her, and she let out a breathy sigh. Reykon rolled onto his back, his arm still underneath her, and Robin curled into him, resting her cheek on his chest. Another moment passed and Robin brought her head up with a scowl, wondering why she was slipping off the edge of the bed until she realized what had happened. “Rey,” she said with a small laugh.
“Hmmm?”
“We broke the bed again,” she grinned, stifling a giggle.
Reykon propped himself up on his elbows, glancing around. Sure enough, the leg underneath them had snapped, again. He let out a chuckle and peeled himself off the bed, stumbling once before righting himself. She saw a burning red glow as he called on his abilities, and then heard a crack. “What-” she gasped, the whole bed jostling underneath her. “What are you doing?” The other corner of the bed clunked down to the ground, and Reykon moved to the final two corners, Robin covering her mouth and her drunken laughter as the final leg gave out and their bed clunked onto the floorboards.
“See? Now it’s fixed.”
She laughed and curled into his arms as he slipped back into the bed, pulling the cool sheets over them. “I love you, Rey,” she whispered, a moment before they both drifted to sleep.
Lucidia
When she peeled her eyes opened, she knew it was the end. There was no Dawn, no Indigo, nobody. Just Darian, sitting in the chair, his icy cold hand interlocked with hers. She tried to draw in a full breath, but it was more liquid than anything, and whatever was festering in there felt like it was on fire. But there was another sensation that she’d grown accustomed to over the past weeks, a constant presence inside of her: the pain. And now, it was gone. The burning, aching, sizzling pain from the spear wound in her shoulder had left, replaced by a hollow sensation. Empty. Numb. Dead. She looked around, the room blurry, unfocused, and full of little spots. “Where – where are we?” she mumbled.
“House Albus,” Darian said calmly.
“Why-” she began, her fuzzy memories returning to her. “Right,” she croaked, nodding slightly. There was a wetness underneath her, and she realized it was a sickening metallic fever-sweat. She searched for the window, looking outside at the glow, golden, bright, the intensity of it hurting her eyes before she shifted her gaze to the dim, sweltering room. “This is a horrible place to die,” she rasped. For a moment, she wanted to admonish herself for complaining, for sounding like a whiny idiot, but then something inside of her mind snapped. Little pieces of her were disintegrating, being burned away by that poison that still slogged through her veins, tearing her up from the inside out. She had every right to complain. She wanted to complain, to yell and scream and kick like she’d done her whole life. To go down fighting. But there was nothing left in her to give, no force that she could mount against this vile presence coursing through her own veins. There was nothing left to do.
Helpless.
Lucidia was scared. Terrified. She knew it and Darian knew it, too. He leaned forward, pressing a rag to her forehead and wiping the beads of sweat that had gathered there. “Would you like to go outside?”
She nodded, unable to form words. She was afraid that if she spoke, all the pain, all the fear, and all of her anger would come spilling out. The world around her shifted, the cool air lashing her sensitive, burning skin. But still, there was no pain. It would have been so much better if there were. “My shoulder doesn’t hurt. Why - why can’t I feel it?” she mumbled.
“There’s no need for it to hurt anymore,” he answered softly.
In other words, her body knew there was no hope. She nodded, a featherlight, shaky motion. Time passed, slipping away from her, the movement of Darian’s steps fading into the background. When she’d regained a sliver of strength, she looked around. They were at the famous mountaintop garden of House Albus, their most prideful feature. An elegant sitting area stood at the apex of this once lush garden of Eden. Now, it was still trampled from the siege, the plants slashed beyond repair, even though it happened over two months ago. It would take a while for it to be restored to its former glory, if it ever could be. They sat on a silver bench with curling arms like a sled. House Albus was big into decoration, everything covered in their traditional colors: forest green and silver. Darian held her up with one arm, no care for his silk robes, which would probably have to be burned after such close contact with the toxic wreck that she was.
Lucidia realized that the walk to the garden had been a long one, the sun now dipping lower and lower than she remembered it. She must have fallen asleep while they were moving. Another stab of bitterness hit her. How much time had she lost because of it? The sky darkened, deep pinks and purples floating around the edges. It wouldn’t be long until the sun was gone entirely, and then…
She wouldn’t ever see it again.
Her breath hitched inside of her, a hiccupping gasp as she realized that the time was finally here; Lucidia Draxos’s final hours. Tonight was the night that she would die. Darian squeezed her arm, pulling her closer as they sat in silence, eyes trained on the wilting sun.
Reykon
He held her tighter, taking in the scent of her hair, the feeling of her body underneath his. “I won’t be gone long.”
She kissed him, her teeth raking over his lower lip and biting him gently. “You better not.”
Another smile spread out on his face and he forced himself away from her, zipping his leather jacket up and turning back to Chadwick. “Everything set?”
“Yep,” the caster said, still studying a vial from the other side of his lab. Tubes and instruments and silver trays of intimidating objects littered the space, disorganized and scattered, a custom addition to the sleepy beach shack.
Because Reykon was the only member of their crew that wasn’t extremely wanted by the Legion, he was in charge of any and all supply runs or reconnaissance. And today’s mission? Figure out what the hell was going on with the outside world, and hopefully canvas some rogue strongbloods that would be good candidates for the procedure that had unlocked Reykon’s true strength. He’d had his eye on the city of Nashville for quite a while. There was definitely plenty of chatter from refugees and rogues in that area, not to mention an increase in the number of inexplicable missing person’s cases and violent animal attacks. When Reykon had scanned for indicators of vampiric activity, he’d seen the rash of reports and thought how original. Animal attacks. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy. And if there was one thing he didn’t like, it was sloppy work. Especially not as a strongblood that had risked his tail thousands of times to keep the vampire’s existence on the DL. He was eager to go find what all of his defected brethren were up to because the rumors of destruction and slaughter were pretty unsettling. Despite his lack of ties to the royal coalition, he’d still been raised in that world, and looking from the outside in was ripping him up. He didn’t like sitting still. He didn’t like not doing anything. But sitting still meant that they were safe, that Robin was safe, and she was his priority now.
“Nashville?” Chadwick asked, finally pulling himself up from his experiment.
Reykon nodded. “There’s a large rogue pop hiding out somewhere in the city, and a lot of vampire attacks.”
“Sounds like a party,” Chadwick muttered. “Got your sword?”
“Hell yes,” Reykon said, his muscles tingling with the idea that he might get to wield such a notorious weapon. “You’ll have to pry this thing from my cold, dead hands.”
“Hey,” Robin warned. “I’m the only one that gets to kill you. That’s in our vows, right?”
“Aye-aye,” he grinned.
Chadwick tossed him a burner phone and then walked over to the makeshift transportation focus he’d set up in the corner of their lab. Yes, teleportation was dangerous. But after Noomi had given him a crash course in it, he found that it didn’t irritate him nearly as much as it used to. Besides, of all the threats that were pointed at them, Reykon would count himself lucky if he were offed by the magical space-time thread that held this universe together.
Chadwick stood in front of the archway, made out of a strange metallic material that Reykon had never seen before but Chadwick ‘swore was legit’ and waited until the sharp crackle of magic sizzled in the air. The portal formed, a glowing blue doorway contained inside of the arch, and Reykon braced himself for the searing electricity that would rip him apart and bring him to the Music City.
Lucidia
The air was cool around her, her skin like burning ice, the cold seeping down further and further, closer to her core. Breathing had become exhausting, and her pulse kept alternating between rapid-fire triplets and weak taps, the gaps between each beat widening. Lucidia felt an ambient terror that each one would be the last, the lag-time just long enough to make her think it wouldn’t hold up.
But it did.
Stubborn, as always, she thought bitterly. But even those things that had seemed so solid now slipped by her, like the world itself was unraveling, falling apart around her. Lucidia Draxos, the rock, the never-wavering, always faithful warrior. Kenzo’s daughter. Her heart ached, her mind like boiling lava, as she fought to hold onto reality. The images around her shifted, shimmering and moving like they were alive. She was at House Xander, sitting on the roof, like she used to sit with her father. She could smell him; leather and mild soap. They were looking at the stars, laughing, talking about the stories they told. He’d taught her about all the stars and their patterns, and the invisible lines that threaded them together. Silk, yes, that’s what he called the lines; spider-silk. She’d thought in her childish mind that one day, she’d like to go up there and find that big spider and kill it with a sword. The air would whip around them, stronger on the roof of the grand castle, and he’d take his jacket off and button it up around her, and she’d be swimming in it, and he’d put his arm around her and they’d sit there for hours and hours together, just watching.
“Kenzo,” she murmured, a hollow rasp. When he didn’t answer, she turned, the movement slow and disjointed, searching for him. She couldn’t figure out why she was so big, why it was so hard to move her body, and why it wasn’t entirely dark outside. And as she turned to look at him, she saw a glimmer of silver, two rings of red. “Kenzo?” she repeated, looking around the garden. It wasn’t a roof. It wasn’t House Xander. “Where did you go?” her voice was jumbled and frantic, her heart barely keeping up with the fear building inside of her. “Where is he?”
Darian’s silver voice sounded out somewhere around her, distant. “He is not here, Lucidia.”
Her eyes struggled to focus on her surroundings. “No. He – he was just here. We were just…”
“No,” he said softly.
“Where is he?”
“He is far away from this place,” Darian replied, his voice tinged with sadness.
Lucidia felt angry tears spring up, a wave of burning anger rolling through her. All of her reason, all of her care for the rules and the consequences lashed out at her. There was none of that now. Not when she was slipping away, scared, alone, with a cold vampire by her side instead of her father. Her mind cleared, sharpen
ed by the rage, and she remembered the attacks, the spear, she remembered why they were sitting in this garden. Decades of repressed emotions festered in her mind, more venomous than any poison the Legion could have cooked up. “You took him from me,” she whispered, tears blurring her vision. Lucidia relived the last time she’d seen her father, she thought about what she’d said to him, shrieked at him, and realized with a wave of dread that she’d never be able to make it right. “I won’t get to say goodbye… I need to say goodbye to him, Darian, I can’t leave him like this. It’ll break him.” She was trembling, from anger, fear, and desperation, clutching Darian’s cloak with all her strength as she begged him. “Please, please let me see him again. Just one more time. Please, bring him to me.”
Darian’s sorrowful eyes turned to her. “It is not in my power, child.”
“No,” she sobbed, choking another gulp of air in, her lungs small, so small, like there was barely enough space for it. “I can’t leave him like this!” Her mind was a storm of memories, of her anger, of all the words she buried in her own mind, rather than saying them out loud. Her precious stone mask that she’d spent years making out of the burning rage she harbored for all that had befallen them. And none of it mattered. She remembered the last time she saw him, with a stabbing horror that took over her entire mind. “I need to go back,” she moaned. “I need to make it right. The last time I saw him, I called him a traitor, I yelled at him. I watched him go and I didn’t even… I didn’t even say goodbye.” Each word sent another wave of hysteria through her. “Please, just one more time!” she cried.