by F. E. Arliss
Six had stayed right behind her the entire time and she looked questioningly at him when the suite’s concierge opened the door and stepped aside to allow her to enter. “It’s got a king-size bed doesn’t it?” Six asked innocently, “I’m gay as the day, so I’ve got no designs on you.” He’d grinned at her with a wink and she’d simply sighed and allowed him in, too tired and overwhelmed to argue.
For three days and nights, Remi did nothing but lay in the sun by their private pool all day and eat a light, elegant supper by night, going to bed early and pulling the covers over her head to block out reality.
Six, or George Turner Cox the Sixth, finally told her that his friends called him Georgie. Remi figured since they were sharing the spacious suite and king-size bed - albeit with a row of pillows down the center to divide their sleeping spaces - and got along famously, she ranked in the friends category and started calling him Georgie. He admitted he didn’t have that many friends and would really like to have a friendship more than he was interested in following her around for work - though he laughingly assured her that getting paid for hanging out with a friend was definitely his idea of a great job.
The fourth day was relaxing. They’d walked on the beach, taken a turn on a jet ski, then dined at one of the elegant nearby casinos while watching high-rollers lose their money. Remi was glad to get back to the room and stood on the pool deck in her evening dress sipping one of the exotic cocktails Georgie had whipped up as an experiment. He was sprawled in one of the lounge chairs complaining that the fine wool of his tuxedo was getting a bit of coconut-scented sunscreen rubbed into the fabric.
Suddenly, a swirl of musty, metallic-scented wind gusted around them. Large moths fluttered in the lights over the pool and the dark-suited man from the bridge stood before her.
Once again, falling back on manners, she murmured, “Good evening Saulaces.”
“Ms. Hartsel,” he returned, his deep gravel-like voice causing the skin on her nape to turn to goose bumps.
“Have you met my friend George Turner Cox the Sixth?” she asked politely. “I call him Georgie.” Turning to her gaping friend, who looked on the verge of spilling his drink as it teetered in his fingers, she said, “Georgie, this is Saulaces. He and Kandake are of the same clan.”
Six, recovering his usually impeccable manners, scrambled to his feet, setting the drink on a nearby table, and thrust out a hand to Saulaces. “Pleased to me you, Sir. Please call me Georgie or Six. Whichever you prefer.”
The yellow eyes of their enormously tall visitor ran over Georgie’s dapper figure and scrutinized his expression minutely. Apparently, having found Six’s good manners and willingness to shake hands an improvement over most humans he met, he took Six’s hand and shook it, saying, “You may both call me Saul.”
Remi, irreverently, had to bite her tongue from making a quip about, better call first, Saul. He wouldn’t get it and it would be rude. Later, she and Georgie admitted they’d both thought it at the same time.
“Can I mix you a drink?” Georgie asked, nodding towards the cocktail Remi held. “I’ve made up one for the evening.”
Remi drifted closer to Saul and held out her glass to him. “Want to try it before you make the leap?” she asked, smiling slightly. “It’s what I would call a bit piquant.” To her surprise, the bald man took the glass, wafted it under his nose, then took a sip, handing the glass back to her gently, long nails clicking slightly against the crystal as she took it from him.
“Yes, please,” he rumbled at Georgie, who immediately disappeared into the suite. Remi could hear him clattering about as he mixed the cocktail.
“Nice hotel,” Saul grumbled.
“Yes, it is,” Remi agreed. “Don’t worry, I spent my own money.”
“I’m not worried,” the large, bald man snapped, the force of his deep, growling voice seemed to push her back a step. “Kandake left you a fortune and that was her choice. You already have your own as far as I can discern. I care nothing about any of that.”
Georgie returned, silently handed the cocktail to Saul and subsided on what appeared to be wobbly legs back into the lounge chair.
“Then what are you worried about?” Remi asked, then gestured to one of the elegant woven deck chairs, and sank into another one herself. Again surprising her, Saul sat.
“I’m worried about the impact of what you’ve seen and understood,” the brooding hulk rasped out into the darkness of the terrace. “Though I must admit you both seem rather more calm about it then I have seen before.”
Remi sighed. “I won’t pretend it hasn’t been a shock. Georgie is more used to it as he already had a long acquaintance with certain aspects of clan banking and knew, at least subconsciously, that your people existed.”
She saw Saul’s yellow eyes blaze out into the darkness of the deck and impale Georgie where he reclined sipping his drink. To his credit, Six did nothing and bore the scrutiny without flinching.
When it was her turn to suffer the scalding gaze of the preternaturally yellow eyes, she returned his look, letting herself fully explore the features she’d only skimmed over before.
Saul had probably once been a handsome man. He had a hard, chiseled, square jaw and a long straight nose. It was hard to know what had caused the abnormal enlargement of his head and the hanging flaps of his earlobes, the hugely raised veins that wriggled blatantly along his temples, the long white claws, or his pale wax-like skin. In contrast to the strange oval-shaped pupils of his eyes, the neon-yellow irises seemed to set fire to the night. As he’d spoken, Remi had been more aware this time of the elongated canines that curled over his lower lip. They seemed longer tonight for some reason.
Once they’d had a chance to look each over thoroughly, Saul grunted an abrupt cough that might have been his version of a laugh. “You’re brave, I give you that. Both of you are.”
“Brave,” Remi laughed at that and rolled her eyes. “Don’t think so.”
“Stupid,” Six added, grinning.
“Well, brave or stupid, whichever it is, or both, have earned you a reprieve of sorts from my clan,” Saul stated, the grave intent in his voice causing them both to stare at him, tensions mounting.
“Reprieve?” Remi questioned, her gaze intent on his yellow one.
“Most humans are killed if they discover the truth of the clans,” Saul said slowly. “Some call it the ‘masquerade’ or the ‘veil’, the way we pretend to be human in order to save ourselves from discovery by people bent on separating us from our heads. Though the Colchi, my clan, are the oldest and therefore the most...unusual looking. We try to avoid coming into the sight of humans.”
“Six’s family does business with the clans, so they are protected in many ways. You are the first human who isn’t a trusted business associate, to be allowed to live,” Saul growled, curling his lips slightly, showing an impressive length of fang.
“Gee, thanks for letting me live,” Remi snarked back, unintimidated for some reason.
“Kandake wished it. That is the only reason you live. She was a Solomonari queen. Or a student of magic and the arcane arts. Having lived for thousands of years, her judgement is respected and upheld as law throughout the clans,” Saul continued.
“I take it there are many clans?” Remi asked, curious.
“Yes, the clans came about in different parts of the world. Our clan, the Colchi, are the oldest of all clans. Our blood was gifted to us by Queen Nephertiti, who despised a woman-hating Pharaoh named Sesostris. Sesostris saw women as weak and objects to own. He loved war. Nephertiti gifted the man who killed him with eternal life. She just failed to mention the curse that went along with immortality,” Saulaces grated this out dryly, waving one long curved nail towards his skull and its unusual attributes.
“Most of the other clans came centuries later, and almost all during the same age. It was as though the magic to enable this sort of curse was suddenly spread across the world to the shamans and witches and sorcerers that claimed power
all in an instant. They used it, and then it was gone again.”
“Each clan has a leader. Some have queens, some have sires which they call Lords. It all depends upon who rules the clan.” Saul paused as though gathering his thoughts. “Kandake was the oldest female in our clan and the oldest member of the clan after myself. Losing her has been a devastating blow to us. As you may have noticed, our clan has few females and none that have the intelligence of Kandake.”
“Why?” Remi asked, suddenly remembering the general impression of primitive energy the clan group had given off.
“Our blood is powerful and can overwhelm the personalities of those not strong enough to control it through the change,” Saul’s eyes pierced into hers. “Only a few of the clan have had the strength of will and mind to retain their personalities and not be dominated by the Colchi blood. I am the oldest and rule the clan. Kandake was my right hand. Her absence is felt strongly by the more primitive of the clan. She had a kindness and nurturing presence that comforted them.”
“I am here to make sure you will hold our secret to your grave. I have no interest in changing you to be a clansman. You are far too lovely for me to want that,” Saul actually snarled at the thought. “As you can see, Colchi blood has a powerful deforming property in it that causes the changes you see. We are all monsters. None of us can walk in the light of day safely.”
“That is why I am here,” he continued. “We need you. You have inherited all of Kandake’s worldly possessions. Now, I ask that you take up some of her responsibilities as well.”
Remi could feel Saul trying to shove compelling thoughts her way and snapped, “I told you once not to do that! Stop! It is useless anyway,” Remi spat at him. “I do not succumb to that sort of mind-control.”
Saul’s genuine laugh rumbled out into the night. “Good. You are strong. You will need to be. Will your little pet be strong as well?” he asked, nodding towards Georgie.
Six sat up suddenly, then snarled back at Saul, “I’m nobody’s pet.”
Another hair-raising laugh ruptured the night. “Good.”
“What is it you want me to do?” Remi asked, trepidation twisting her guts.
“I want you to act for us in the light of day. Represent our interests in places where we can not go. Six may act as your attorney and aid you. We will pay a retainer for his services,” Saul continued, his deep voice outlining a number of interesting facts that had both Remi and Georgie staring at him open-mouthed.
“So you’re saying that the other clans can walk about in broad daylight if they’ve had enough blood?” Remi asked incredulously.
“Yes,” came the choppily angry reply. “The watered-down blood of the later clans allows this.”
“Those smoozy suits on the bridge can walk around in broad daylight once they’ve had enough blood and look normal?” she asked, just to make sure she was really hearing things correctly.
“Yes!” Saul gritted back at her, his frustration clear.
“Oh, man. How do they get all that blood,” Georgie asked suddenly, swinging his legs off the lounger to put his elbows on his knees in consternation.
“The same way we do. They feed on humans. Clan law says we must not kill humans, or we endanger the veil that hides us from people with pitchforks and fire, stakes, and garlic. None of which really work, by the way,” Saul flashed an enormous set of white teeth at that remark.
“No, I noticed that Kandake’s necklace had a beautiful cross at the top. That obviously doesn’t work,” Remi admitted, remembering the beautiful baroque cross on the parure’s necklace.
Saulaces laughed, “Our clan is older than Christ. Of course that does not work.”
“What does work?” Six asked, interest ringing in his voice.
“Why, little lawyer? Do you want to kill me?” Saul asked.
“No, but I might want to protect myself and Remi if we have to interact with other clans,” Georgie stated, sincerity ringing in his voice. “From what Remi told me about the bridge incident, it seems the Empusas, at least, have it out for you.”
Saul nodded slowly, “Iron stakes, not wood. Decapitation. That’s it,” he said with a grindingly, spine-tingling laugh. “Not exactly easy to tote around an iron rod and hammer, or a sword big enough to take off a head.”
Georgie huffed indignantly. “How am I supposed to keep Remi safe then?”
“You won’t. She will keep you safe. In the safety deposit box there were a number of items that you will need to wear should you agree to help us as a clan. One of them you are already wearing,” Saul explained slowly.
“Each clan’s queen has a parure set. A parure set is made up of a necklace, earrings, a bracelet, and a ring. These sets were made for the first queens in each clan by the mages that served the original receiver of the blood. Receiver of the blood is the way we describe the gift - or curse - depending on how you see it, of the original power of immortality and regeneration. These gifts were handed down by the gods of each land.”
“Our clan, the Colchi,” the way Saul included her in this made her stomach quiver in apprehension, “received their gift in exchange for killing the Pharaoh Sesostris. As I said before, Sesostris was a violent, woman-hating, warrior king of Egypt. He conquered lands far into Eurasia and left colonies to populate and control lands in the countries now known as Georgia and Bulgaria on either side of the Black Sea in Europe.”
“Because Sesostris was such a woman-hater - he often carved female genitalia onto pillars in the countries he conquered easily to signify that they fought like women - the first clan ruler, immediately sired a female Colchi in defiance of Sesostris’s beliefs. That female queen of the Colchi was made a parure set imbued with ancient power to protect her. That first female was Kandake. You currently wear the ring from the first set ever made to celebrate a queen. Can’t you feel the power?” Saul asked, his scorn evident.
“I can, actually,” Remi admitted. “It’s grown into my skin and I can’t remove it.”
This statement brought the already abnormally still Saulaces, into total immobilization. Remi could feel cold radiating off him. “That is good,” he said slowly and consideringly. “It means the set has accepted you.”
The three sat quietly for a few moments. Remi looked at Six. He nodded at her almost imperceptibly as Saulaces continued. “The parure set worn by Kandake was centuries older than the other sets that are worn by later clan queens. It is more powerful and has applications you cannot even begin to control.”
“This means you are the one who killed Sesostris and received the gift of immortality from Queen Nephertiti,” Remi mused haltingly. “You made Kandake into your Queen.”
“Yes,” Saulaces gritted out, the deep thread of grief wringing in his voice.
“Was she, like, you wife?” Georgie asked, confounded that someone as ugly as Saulaces might have a lover.
Saulaces barked with laughter, the sound scaring both Remi and Six. “For many centuries, yes. Then we grew apart in that way. But we still ruled together and cared deeply for each other. She had a partner called Eddie,” he said this sneeringly, “that she took to her bed in the last few centuries. He lacked many of our usual...traits,” Saul stated abruptly.
Both Remi and Six took this to mean that he’d been less affected by the disfigurements that made up most Colchi’s appearances. He’d been, in a word, handsomer, than Saul.
Slowly Remi sat forward, holding Saul’s yellow eyes intently. “If Six and I do this, you will guarantee our safety?” she asked.
Saulaces barked out another short explosively derisive laugh. “You will not need my protection, but you will have it. I think you fail to realize the protection you already have. If you wear the earrings, necklace, and bracelet of the set. You will be well be protected to the point of immortality yourself.”
“Then how did Kandake die?” Remi snapped at him, stung by his scornful treatment of the subject of her safety.
That question shut him up and she could feel a
raging anger rip through the night. Not at her, but at something she did not understand.
“She allowed it,” Saulaces gritted out, his fangs now long and practically glowing in the light. “She saw you, and decided to bequeath you her power. She was tired and wished for peace. You are the reason she is gone. She chose a successor.”
A pulsing, rage-filled silence spread across the pool deck. Remi shivered with cold. Six rose and came to her, draping a deck towel around her shoulders.
“Stop trying to intimidate us,” Georgie commanded, his voice was ringed with steel and even Remi was surprised. “Remi did not choose Kandake’s death, nor ask for her power. We are sorry for your sorrow and loss. We can not bring her back. We can, however, honor her wishes.”
The cold receded slowly. “You are right. I am sorry,” Saul said softly. “It is not your fault. I am desolate without her. As is my clan. This is why I ask you to come and pass among them. Talk to them. Let them touch you. Show them kindness and compassion, as did Kandake. She was the heart of our clan. I doubt you can fill her shoes, but I ask that you at least try.”