by Ana Calin
I nod, unable to speak past the knot in my throat. He’s not able to see me, but he can sense me, just like I can sense him standing behind me while I lean out over the windowsill to admire the sunset.
Hues of orange and crimson pool over the hill line, bathing the sky in magical colors. I breathe in, smelling rain on the air. I push my face up, letting it imbue my skin.
“I’ve never used the elements in a fight,” I say. “I’m not even sure I can. I mean, I don’t command them myself, I command them using their connection with my clients.”
“We’ll find a way.” He sounds so warm and reliable, it’s hard to believe this is the same man who basically said I’d mean nothing more than a hot night to him. How can he have been so cruel last night, and yet so warm and accommodating today?
I turn around to face him. I’ve spent all day studying the tome, and pretending to even when I wasn’t, simply to avoid facing him. Even when my focus left me, I kept looking down or checking Nazarean, stroking him and feeding him, avoiding direct eye contact with Xerxes. Whenever he left the room for food and drink I breathed out a sigh of relief.
But discussing with him what I learned from the book was interesting and absorbing while we talked over bagels and coffee. Even then I’ve avoided looking him straight on in the face.
It’s been quite a productive day despite the tension between us. We learned more than I would have ever expected from the former Grand Mage’s meetings. Xerxes, as a high-blood supernatural, has been able to read much faster than me, identifying the bits that were of interest to us, but I must say it’s his experience that makes all the difference.
“I’ve been around for a long time, and I’ve outlived three Grand Mages. We didn’t have any direct contact, but I kept tabs on them. I have a good idea of their life’s work,” he explained. “But I wouldn’t have thought that they had information on the Firestone. It was genius on your part to suggest we look there.”
I lower my head, hiding my blush. “Thank you, but I was thinking more of myself than you when I suggested it. You know, because of the blood oath. I needed him in order to sanctify it, but after knowing him better that word seems strange.”
He takes another step and, for the first time since last night, we’re close enough that I can smell him. I breathe in deeply, despite the fear that it may have become a drug to me.
“I can still give you a blood oath, even without someone to sanctify it.”
“No offense, but what would such an oath be worth?”
“There are more ways than one to sanctify a blood bond. I witnessed Lysander make an oath to Arielle de Saelaria when we first met.”
“Yes, and look what happened to them. It bound them together as fated mates. We already are that, what if the oath makes the connection unbreakable?”
He studies me with a calm that borders on resignation. “I think the connection already is unbreakable. Last night ended badly. I crossed the line, for which I’m sorry, but the first part of it was genuine. I was never that honest with anyone before in my life. I’ve never talked about myself before.”
“It’s so strange, hearing someone so old and experienced as you speak about first times.” I smile, but I’m pretty sure it shows the bitterness I feel inside.
He smiles back, which seems an unnatural response from his handsome but brutish face. For a moment there I think that he might want to deepen the moment, but he turns away, starting to pack the things he gathered for our journey.
“The sun is almost set. I suggest we start our journey to the Hill of Doom, it will take a couple of nights. Then we’ll set up camp at the base of the hill. There is a magic border around the hill that the spirits cannot pass, so we’ll be safe. We can start to train there, and we’ll use the elements to do it.”
“Like I said, I’ve never used the elements for battle before. I mean, I can conjure storms and snow, and even stir fire inside a volcano, but I told you, it was always through the elements’ connection to my clients, not to me. I’m just someone who can channel them right.”
He nods as if understanding perfectly what I’m talking about. “What you do is called element bending. Most trained element benders can only master one element, like air or water or fire. You’re special, because all of the elements respond to your calling. You think you don’t have a direct influence on them because you never tried, you stuck to helping others. I’m pretty sure I can work with that, I can teach you how to use them for war.”
War. Now that’s a word that sounds like it fits in his mouth.
“Are you sure I’m not better off with blades or something?”
“It would take months of training for you to use conventional weapons in a way that would do damage and protect you. Besides, there’s no point trying something new if you already have something that you’re comfortable with.”
I pick up Nazarean and approach him.
“Xerxes,” I start, though I’m not very sure how to ask him this. “We never talked about how you create the Undead, and I suppose at this point it’s better that I don’t know but... These creatures that crawl out of their graves at the Cemetery of Doom, how are they different from the ones you make?”
“In one essential way—my Undead do not have souls. They’re only shells of once living creatures, which is why they rot, and why they can be killed in conventional ways. They make decisions based on the broken bits of information and memory left over in their brains. With the creatures at the Cemetery of Doom it’s the other way around. They’re living souls inside dead bodies. Killing their bodies will only slow them down, but not annihilate them. My Undead are easy to kill because there’s no mind ordering the matter to go on. It’s the other way around with those we’re going to encounter. Their souls are strong, and they keep their bodies going.”
My skin crawls at the image his words create in my mind. “So what are we going to do? How are we going to make it past them?”
“The only proven way to finish them is fire.”
“Then jackpot.” I take heart. “You’re the King of Flames.”
“Yes, jackpot, but there’s a catch. They are highly flammable, and as the flames spread like wildfire among them, the chapel will be in danger of burning, too. If the chapel burns down, we’ll lose our access to the Firestone. So we have to find a way to take down the creatures without fire.” He stops, his eyebrows knitted as he ponders. “One other way might be...” He stands, facing me in full. “Draining the energy of their spirits from them.”
I nod, understanding where he’s going. “I could drain them the way I draw energy from the elements to replenish my clients’ tanks.”
“Yes. But at this point it’s just a theory. It’s how I think that your particular kind of magic could work on them. But you’ve never done it before, it could be dangerous, and backfire. Which is why we need to train you.”
Xerxes
CERYS IS MORE RESILIENT than I thought. She plows through the forests, plains and villages towards the hill without protest, refusing my help when I offer it. She carries Nazarean on her shoulder, as well as the items she felt she’d need in a small ragbag.
We make it to the bottom of the hill in only two nights, but we end up spending more time here than I foresaw. My power is draining from me by the minute, but I’m determined not to show it. Cerys needs to feel like she can rely on me now, and I can’t show any weakness, but my body looks more and more human by the hour, my veins losing their fiery hue, and turning reddish, like embers. I hitched a leather jacket from a tavern on our road, just so I could cover more of my body so she doesn’t notice.
When we reach the hill I build a tent, providing it with the basics to keep Cerys and Nazarean comfortable, such as blankets to cover the floor, and a harmless fire in the middle of the tent. I keep the fire alive with embers.
“It’s so pleasant,” Cerys whispers as she takes off the ermine-lined coat I hitched for her in the same village where I got my jacket.
She reaches
out and rubs her hands together close to the fire. I sit by the exit, giving her space. This way I can watch her without her really being aware of it. The sound of me sharpening my blades gets drowned in the fire’s rustling. The fire casts a golden glow on Cerys’ bright white skin that makes her seem warmer, somehow more approachable.
“Here we’re safe from prying eyes,” I tell her. “We can move on in the morning.” We’re in the middle of a forest that surrounds this hill, few people ever venture in these parts. “We’re gonna need to capture some of the creatures beyond the barrier, though, and we can only do it at night. You need some semblance of real-life experience.”
“Capturing them,” she repeats, her golden eyes fixed on the fire. “I’m not sure I want to treat any creature as a dummy for trying out my new skills on.”
“You can’t walk into that Cemetery with no experience at all.”
She doesn’t respond. I set the finished blade on the cloth in front of me, and draw another hunting dagger from the holster strapped to my thigh. It will take a while until I have all of my blades lined up, which gives me the opportunity to watch her without looking like a creep. On the other hand, judging by what I’ve come to know of her by now, re-stating my violent nature by occupying myself with blades isn’t going to make me any more lovable to her.
I wish I could do something nice for her, something that she will really like. I want to give her something that will put a sparkle in those pretty eyes of hers that I use every chance to glance at, but I have no idea what.
“The blood oath,” she breaks the silence, her eyes still lost in the fire. “I just realized we never finished talking about that. How do you plan to make it without someone to sanctify it?”
I don’t answer at first, but sharpen my blade more purposefully, the metallic sound filling the air between us. She pretends she doesn’t notice the change, but I can hear the sound of her heartbeat picking up. She swallows hard as she feels my intense gaze on her.
When the tension between us is thick enough that I feel she’s suffered enough for not trusting me, I speak.
“What do you know about the blood oath Lysander made to Arielle?”
I shrug. “I only know that’s how things started between them.”
“It’s not. Things started between the King of Frost and the Sea Queen long before he made a blood oath to her. But the blood oath did turn them into fated mates.”
Cerys steals glances at me, and I grin. I feel this is a good point to show her more of who I really am, make sure she dislikes me even more. Maybe that way she’ll do something to help me dislike her, too, because I’m desperate to stop feeling the way I do about her. Claws emerge from my hands, and Cerys’ jaw drops.
“I need you to see me in my true form so you understand what you’re getting yourself into,” I continue as shadow flows from my body, the rivulets of fire lighting up and cracking my skin, even in their weakened reddish hue of ember. If I keep going, within minutes I’ll be a monster of rock-like flesh and shadow, riddled with red lines like ugly cuts, and with the claws and the fangs of a beast. “Because the blood oath will bind me to the promises I make to you—that I’ll let you go when this is over, and that I’ll never take you away again against your will. But it will also bind us in mysterious ways. You might feel me under your skin long after I’ve set you free, even forever, and this is what you’ll feel and see in your nightmares at night.” I motion to myself demonstratively.
“As long as you keep your promise,” she whispers, but her voice shakes. “But we don’t have anyone to sanctify—”
“Arielle and Lysander didn’t either, or so they thought.”
“What do you mean so they thought?”
“I was there. Even if I was Lysander’s enemy, and I wanted to kill him back then. But I was also a force of nature. And forces of nature can sanctify a blood oath. You command them as well.”
“Not by far like you or Lysander, or Arielle,” she breathes, leaning away from me as I approach. I crouch down in front of her, by now riddled with rivulets of fire, so many of them and so bright that I cast a reddish glow on her perfectly milky skin.
“The day you replenished their energy tanks when they came to you, you called forth a mighty storm.”
“But that was their energy, not mine. It was their source, just like the volcano under Arthur’s Seat was yours. I couldn’t have reached deep and drawn its power without you present.”
“Well, I am present now.” I run my claw across my palm and slash it, a gash opening, and blood swelling from it.
“High realms,” she breathes as I bring my palm under her chin. She leans back on her ankles. Nazarean climbs onto her lap, and from there up to her chest as if wanting to protect her. He hisses, but it’s a low and gentle hiss, as if he’s asking me to be gentle about this.
“Drink my blood, and with it my promise—After we’ve gotten the Firestone, and my core has been restored, you will be free to go, and I won’t stop you. I’ll never claim you again in any way against your will, nor will I force you to follow me or remain by my side.” I train my eyes on her honey-golden irises that reflect the fire in mine. “If I ever go against this promise, you’ll be able to use my blood and force me to my knees.”
As if hypnotized by my words, Cerys bends down, taking my hand in both of hers and bringing it to her mouth. Then she bends her head, and her lips close on the gash in my palm like it’s something sacred. The sensation that courses through me is so rich that my eyes roll back, and a moan escapes from my throat. It’s new, unlike anything I’ve felt before. I never would have thought that someone drinking my blood could feel so...right.
She keeps drinking way past the moment when she should stop, and I don’t say anything. Not only because of how sensual it feels, and how hard it makes my cock, but because I feel my blood belongs to her as much as it belongs to me.
But I need to preserve my strength for the fight that awaits us on the hill, which prompts me to stop her.
“That should be enough, Cerys,” I say softly, tugging my hand gently from under her mouth. She holds on to my wrist at first, not willing to let go, and I don’t force her. I just slip my other hand under her chin, feeling it move as she sucks on my blood, and trying not to get any hornier than I already am.
“That’s enough. Stop now, so we can use the momentum to—” I mean to say to practice. I mean to say that now, with the blood of a high-born supernatural in her system, she will feel stronger than ever, and that makes this the perfect time for us to go out there, and observe some of the creatures haunting the hill, maybe even get one so she can try out her skill.
But what happens stuns me like nothing ever did before in thousands of years.
Cerys throws herself at me, Nazarean jumping from her lap at the last minute, and bolting right out of the tent. He must have felt a very unusual energy from her. She grabs my face with both hands, and crushes her lips against mine. I moan with pleasure at their softness, but also in surprise at how hot they feel. My blood must have sent hers racing, and made it impossible for her to resist her strongest urges.
Maybe my passion was transmitted to her through my blood, and what she feels isn’t hers, but mine.
She breaks the kiss but keeps her hands on the sides of my face, pressing her incredible lips to my jaw and my neck, my head swimming with both desire and an effort to keep a clear head, and not let her do something that she might regret tomorrow.
“Cerys, wait, what are you doing?” But she doesn’t stop, she keeps going lower down my body, slipping her hands under my leather jacket, her fingers trickling down my chest to my abs.
“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” she whispers, her breath hot on my lips as she looks into my face, her golden eyes sparkling with unbridled lust. “I just know I need to have you. I have—” She bites her lips and squeezes her eyes shut as if trying to keep back the words, but she loses the fight. “I have wanted you since day one, Xerxes. It must be this cursed
connection between us. I’ve never been so crazy to have a man.”
Crazy to have a man.
Any man. Does that mean that she’s desired a man before?
My cock is raging to take her, and the blood and fire coursing inside me demands her, but the idea of another man sticks a knife in my back. I grab her wrists, taking her hands down from my face, but I don’t let go of them.
“Is there someone in your life, Cerys?”
Her eyes sober up at that question. The liquid honey in her irises goes opaque, and she tries to take distance from me, but my grip turns to iron around her wrists.
“There is, isn’t there?” I yank her closer. “Who is he?”
“Have you lost your mind, let me go.” She struggles to pull herself away. My cock is already stiff as iron, but I need that answer on deep, dangerous levels.
“Now we both know that isn’t your true desire. Or at least it didn’t look like it a minute ago.”
“I don’t know what’s gotten into me. Must have been something in your blood, or the blood oath, but I can control myself now.”
I stare down at her, my grip so tight she doesn’t stand a chance of escaping me.
“I need to know, Cerys. I, I promise—” my jaw tightens, and I speak the words through my teeth, because it’s not easy to make such a promise. “I won’t hurt him, or even ever try to find him, but I need to know.” I hold her wrists in one hand, freeing the other to punch my own chest. “It’s a need that will consume me if you don’t tell me. If we stand the slightest chance of defeating this challenge, I need to be able to function.”
She bites her lip, her cheeks crimson.
“I’m not going to talk about my romantic history with you, Xerxes.”
Romantic history, so there is one.
I pull her to me, letting go of her hands and wrapping my arms around her back. Boiling with emotions, I can’t control myself anymore, and I do exactly what I want to. I lean in to her, breathing in her scent.