by Aja James
It was customary in Chinese culture to call a close friend “brother” or “sister.” Physical age-wise, Rain was technically older, though they both looked to be in their twenties, given the eternal youth of Pure Ones. But because of Cloud’s innate protectiveness of everyone around him, Rain decided that he fit more the role of “big brother.”
“We’ve split the group into two,” Cloud answered, avoiding Rain’s leading comment about his nemesis. “Aella, Eveline and I are exploring an alternate path that cuts through Asia Minor. The map we found points us in two different directions, one to the north, one to the west.”
“You sound like you have suspicions about where this path might lead.”
Rain was always able to read him clearly, picking up on words he didn’t say, looks he didn’t give. She was the closest confidante, besides her Mate, Valerius, that Cloud had amongst the Dozen.
But even then, he didn’t tell her everything. His secrets were his own.
“Perhaps,” he hedged. “I do believe we are meant to go down this path, in any case. The answers will reveal themselves when it is time.”
“Time for what?”
“It is merely a figure of speech, Rain,” he said.
“Hmm.” She didn’t sound convinced.
“What is the news at the base?” he asked, trying to divert her attention.
“You always call it ‘the base,’ or headquarters, or something impersonal,” Rain noted, much too insightful for Cloud’s comfort, even though he valued her friendship, “you never call it home. Why won’t you trust us, Cloud? Whatever burdens you carry, we can help you. We’re all on the same side, fighting for the same things.”
Were they?
And if the day came when Cloud had to fulfill his role, would the Pure Ones be with him or against him? Would they choose to protect their beloved Sophia or would they choose the greater good?
“Fine,” Cloud conceded, at least verbally, “what is the news from home?”
Words were just words. Without the actual feelings behind them, or the actions that realized them, they were meaningless.
Rain sighed, but otherwise didn’t push him further.
“Jade is meeting with Ramses soon. Within the next few days,” Rain reported.
Jade was the Blooded and Eternal Mate of Seth Tremaine, the Pure Ones’ Consul. But more than that, she used to be the most powerful vampire queen in the world before she ceded the throne to Ramses, the first-ever Dark King.
“The underground trafficking of Pure Ones is gaining momentum,” Rain continued. “Jade has been visiting Pure One sympathizers amongst the Dark noble houses for the past couple of months, trying to gain their cooperation to crack down on the slave trade. Ramses has upheld her last decree as Queen to outlaw such behavior, but we haven’t seen any offenders being punished as examples. Thus far, it seems as if Ramses is merely paying lip service, not really doing anything to enforce the laws.”
“Have the Chevaliers been deployed with our human allies?”
“Yes, under Adam Morgan’s supervision,” Rain confirmed. “But he is also leading the search for Dalair. Valerius and Tristan are out hunting vampire rogues. The number of unnaturally turned vampires is practically exploding. It’s becoming more than the two of them and the Chevaliers can handle.”
“Has Ayelet made progress recruiting more Pure warriors to the Elite?”
Especially the ancient ones on Medusa’s “list,” the list of both Pure and Dark Ones that she targeted to turn into her mindless minions. They had to get to those warriors before their enemies did.
“Unfortunately, no. She is not free to travel much, and certainly not without protection. These warriors are so well hidden that one cannot reach them through conventional means. As with you, we’d have to personally search, find, and recruit them to our cause. We don’t have the resources right now to do it effectively.”
Cloud was silent for a while, contemplating options.
“But that is not all that’s happening at home,” Rain interrupted his thoughts.
Cloud frowned. More bad news?
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Isolde has been extremely distraught without her favorite ‘horsey,’” Rain said in all seriousness.
Cloud smiled.
Isolde was Tristan and Ayelet’s three-year-old, the only child amongst the inhabitants of the Shield. Like a shot of rainbow and unicorns amidst all the depressive, looming danger.
Children born to Pure and Dark Ones were extremely rare. There were exceptions, but few and far between.
“She is badgering her over-indulgent papa for a dog in Bai Long’s absence,” Rain went on. “But no normal-sized dog would do. It has to be at least the size of a pony because she intends to ride it.”
Cloud’s lips twitched, wanting to spread into a grin. He imagined Isolde’s imperious demeanor, sitting astride a giant hound, brandishing her fairy princess scepter, charging full speed ahead…
And leaving a mess of broken furniture, scraped floors, and dog slobber in her wake.
“She insists on a long-haired dog,” Rain intoned, as if she was an emissary of Princess Isolde, relaying her royal highness’s demands, “because she misses braiding Bai Long’s mane and tail. Perhaps one of those Afghan Hounds she spotted while out strolling through Central Park with her parents will do.”
“Isolde can say ‘Afghan Hounds’?” Cloud asked dubiously.
“Isolde can say whatever she puts her mind to,” Rain replied readily. “But it did come out sounding more like ‘Afa doggie.’”
Cloud laughed low, slowing Bai Long’s pace as he listened to Rain’s melodious, soothing voice in his ear, telling him about happier, brighter moments in their often too-dark reality.
*** *** *** ***
“…What we are experiencing—this escalation in conflict and destruction—it’s been prophesized in the Zodiac Scrolls…” Eveline droned on, as Aella half paid attention.
It wasn’t that Aella was disinterested in what Eveline had to say, not at all. It’s just she’d heard most of it before.
There was something about Eveline, something in her personality, that just didn’t mesh with Aella’s.
If Eveline were human, she’d likely be a librarian or a researcher of lost artifacts or even a tarot card reader. She was intellectual to Aella’s physical. A philosopher to Aella’s doer. A supporter to Aella’s leader.
And as far as Aella knew, Eveline never even thought about sex. Whereas, Aella was rather like a “man” in that respect, based on human statistics that were often quoted—she thought about sex every seven seconds or so.
More, in fact, where Cloud was concerned.
“…It’s been building for a while now, the danger around us. I’ve noted the significant milestones along the way, starting with Rain’s mating to Valerius. Events similar to their story took place millennia ago, you know, because history often repeats itself…” Eveline continued.
Aella nodded at appropriate moments but let her thoughts wander.
Speaking of Rain, Cloud was riding a little apart from them, conversing in low tones on his wrist-com with the Pure Ones’ Healer herself.
Aella understood a little Chinese from her extensive travels, but not enough to keep up with his flowing words.
She could tell from the affectionate tone of Cloud’s low, deep voice that he was very comfortable with Rain. He smiled slightly now and then during the dialogue, relaxed and natural. Whereas, he was always stiff and formal with Aella.
And that brief laugh just now…
Aella almost fell off her horse from the staggering beauty and sound of it.
Was it because Cloud and Rain shared a Chinese heritage? Aella had heard from Ayelet that Cloud might have been a human during the Three Kingdoms period in ancient China. Not the same time frame as Rain’s human incarnation, but close.
Aella had never set foot within the interior of the “Middle Kingdom,” as China was called in Mandarin. But
she’d encountered Han Chinese and nomadic Mongolians before. Her tribe often traveled through the mountains that separated the various provinces of Eurasia, including the borderlands west of the Middle Kingdom.
One particular Chinese warrior stayed rooted within her heart, even though she could never quite recall the details of where and when they met. By now she wondered whether she was so good at suppressing her memories that they could no longer surface, or perhaps they were less memory, more dream.
What were the odds that Cloud was a human during that same period of time? Had he been a warrior or an intellectual? He possessed the bearing of both. A zen-jedi-master of sorts.
But no one ever knew for sure with Cloud. He himself certainly never confirmed nor denied. After three years living with the Dozen, they still didn’t know much about him.
He kept mostly to himself, focused on training with the other Elite warriors, including Aella, though they seldom paired off in hand-to-hand combat. Most of the time, Cloud and Valerius trained together, given that they both specialized in distance fighting, and because their skill level was above the others.
Both to Aella’s chagrin and admiration.
“…Inanna and Gabriel’s mating was unprecedented, though I suppose she paved the way by making him vampire first. Two Dark Ones with Pure souls…” Eveline shook her head, her voice filled with disbelief, “so many rules have been broken. So many lines crossed…”
Aella was about to participate in Eveline’s speculations when a soft chuckle from Cloud drew her eyes to him again.
She envied his easy, affable relationship with Rain. In fact, he seemed relatively cordial with everyone in the Shield except Aella.
Did he not like tall, curvaceous, female warriors with waves of sun-kissed gold, and eyes bluer than the Mediterranean Sea? Did her directness and take-charge attitude rub him the wrong way? Or was it her overtly hyper-sexually-aware MO?
She fucking loved sex. So sue her. Pure Ones could have fun too.
Never mind that she hadn’t had any since Cloud came into their fold.
When Aella saw something she wanted, she wouldn’t rest until she got it. And she never settled for consolation prizes.
She wanted Cloud. Therefore, no other male would do. Not until she’d thoroughly scratched the Cloud-itch anyway.
Besides, what’s three years in a millennia-long existence? That’s like half a day in a human year that she’d abstained from fornication.
“…And then Inanna’s parents finally found each other after over four thousand years apart, and completely flipped all of our laws on their head. The mating between a Pure and Dark One… You have to wonder how many of our so-called sacred rules are meant to be broken.”
“Well, we know that the Cardinal Rule still holds,” Aella bestirred herself enough from her own musings to interject. “Val and Seth’s Decline proved that.”
“Yes,” Eveline agreed, “thank goodness Rain and Jade ultimately returned their love. I wonder why the Cardinal Rule exists at all. Not that I care either way, since I have no interest in casual sex—”
“You’re a strange breed, Eve,” Aella said emphatically.
“Why do you call me that? I don’t like my name shortened,” Eveline said without heat, though her brow furrowed slightly.
“Eveline is a mouthful. Friends give friends nicknames,” Aella insisted.
“Then what would I call you? A? La?” Eveline debated, scientifically curious.
“Fine, suit yourself. Eveline it is,” Aella muttered. “Carry on.”
See, this was why Aella didn’t mesh with Eveline. They just didn’t have anything in common.
Eveline immediately took up where she left off in her speculative monologue, while Aella’s mind wandered again.
What was it about Cloud that made her obsess as she’d never obsessed before, she wondered.
Yes, he was startlingly gorgeous, but she was surrounded by magnificent males all the time. She’d had countless lovers over the ages, and they were all beautifully masculine in unique ways.
But there was something about Cloud that distinguished him from the rest. She just didn’t know what it was. It had been driving her crazy for the past three years!
“Why don’t you just ask him?”
Startled, Aella turned to Eveline. She’d lost track of the conversation. Mostly one-sided, though it was.
“Ask what?”
“Why don’t you just ask Cloud to lie with you?” Eveline repeated in her usual no-nonsense fashion.
Aella quirked her lips.
“Just like that, huh?”
“Why not? It’s obvious you want to be with him. Just ask him.”
“And if he says no?”
“Then focus on someone else.”
“It’s not that simple, my friend,” Aella sighed.
Eveline scrunched her nose in confusion.
“Why not?”
Aella looked with an embarrassing degree of desperate longing at the object of her desires, and whispered—
“Because I won’t take no for an answer.”
“The most physically powerful of all living beings is a Beast, an animal spirit that can take the form of a giant predatory cat, eagle or snake, Kings of their respective domains, land, sky and sea. Legends say that they were created by the Twin Goddesses themselves before the advent of men, to slay other gods and monsters. And now I have found one…the fiercest of them all—a royal Beast…”
—From the secret journal of the Vampire Sorceress Circe
Chapter Three
It was just past sundown in Brooklyn when Ishtar made her way home to Dark Dreams after dropping off her regular batches of sweets at the Little Flower Orphanage.
Her old woman’s form made her movements slower, but a building tension within her made her body surge forward, her heart pounding in desperation to get home.
As she rounded a deserted corner, after checking to make sure that no one could see her, she shifted into her natural form—that of tall, dark-haired, eternally youthful Dark One.
Quickly, her long legs ate up the concrete sidewalk, her pace almost a jog now, her lungs burning not from the exertion but from the churning unease within.
Something was wrong.
Tal was hurt. She could feel it.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, even though it was only a matter of minutes, she burst through the back entrance of Dark Dreams, the door that led directly to the small home behind the all-things and bakery shop that she shared with her Mate.
The interior was pitch black; not even the twinkle lights she put on at night to give the shop a welcome, joyful air, were turned on. But Ishtar’s vampire eyes saw through the darkness as clearly as day.
Immediately, she scanned the personal quarters for Tal, but he was not there. She breathed deeply through her nose to search his scent, her leopard instincts taking over.
He was here in the shop.
She exhaled in relief. He had not gone on one of his walkabouts as she had feared.
Lately, he’d been disappearing for longer and longer periods of time. Sometimes for as many as a couple of days.
When he first started going out without telling her his plans, she followed him, just to make sure he was safe. Anunit was still alive (thanks to Ishtar’s mercy, which she’d begun to regret), and Ishtar knew that her sister was plotting revenge.
The surest way to bring Ishtar to her knees was to hurt Tal. Anunit knew this very well; she’d successfully extracted the bitterest retribution upon the male Ishtar loved most for over four thousand years.
So, she’d followed Tal to protect him, even though she knew that, despite his blindness, he was more than capable of handling himself. After all, he’d been the legendary General who had led the Pure Ones to freedom against their Dark oppressors.
But Ishtar realized after a few of these excursions that Tal mostly wandered aimlessly around the City, and always ended at the Bay. He’d stare out sightlessly into the
inky, nighttime horizon blanketing calm or choppy waters. He stood there for hours, still and silent. Sometimes, he’d wade into the water, but he never went far.
As she watched him from a distance, she could sense that he wanted to—he wanted to keep walking, submerge himself in the numbing waves, perhaps never to emerge.
But he always came back to her.
No matter what it cost him, he always came back.
Ishtar followed Tal’s scent now to the front of the shop. Her heart stopped in her chest when she saw him sitting at the work bench against the back wall, a cutting knife in his hand.
But he wasn’t whittling one of the wooden blocks stacked on the table to create the sculptures that they displayed amongst the ancient wares on the shelves of the shop.
He was methodically slicing into his own arm.
The cuts ran deep, she could see, flaying his skin and muscle, completely opening his veins.
And he’d been at it for some time, evidenced by the pool of dark blood on the table and dripping steadily onto the shop floor.
“Tal…”
Her utterance of his name came out in a hoarse moan as tears of heartbreak filled her eyes.
This wasn’t the first time he hurt himself. Just a few days ago, she discovered him hunched over the kitchen sink, in the middle of washing dishes, swiping the blade of a steak knife across his palm.
She’d fussed at him and bandaged the wound, pretending it was an accident: he hadn’t intended to slice his own palm—the knife had slipped.
But they both knew the truth.
Even though he was a Pure One, whose healing abilities were several times that of humans, a source of their eternal youth, Tal’s body wasn’t healing the way it should. The nicks and cuts he often got on his hands from woodwork were taking a lot longer to disappear.
But beyond the physical unraveling, Ishtar was more concerned about what he said that day:
“Feels good,” he’d murmured as he stared unblinkingly down at his bleeding hand. He’d closed his fist tightly then, after she bandaged him, squeezing out more blood until the gauze wrapping was soaked through.