by Jade Alters
“Exactly. He met with Horace, Fey Rorelia, Lucidous and a Shifter named Roran,” Serge tells me. That last name isn’t as familiar as the others, but it does tickle a certain corner of my imagination. A corner that aggravates me, for some reason. “They split up to look for a particular tome from the Forbidden Shelves, right before Horace snapped them invisible.”
“How has no one heard about this?” I burst out. Serge raises a finger to quiet me for the rest of the story.
“Darius and I rushed to tell the Council, only to find everyone we just saw in the Library in the Administrative Wing. Horace covered their asses by saying he knew we were tailing them, and what we saw in the Library was a trick to throw us off,” Serge says. Then, for this last part, he scoots to the edge of the counter. He comes so close to me that he almost falls off. Serge whispers, as if those concerned could be somewhere in the room, listening. “It sounds hokey to me at best. But what really gets me is that Shifter. Roran. Neither me nor Darius know him. Why bother including him in a trick intended to throw us off?”
“That is odd… Why do I feel like I know someone by that name?” I mull over. I scoop up my tea mug and take a long, warm swig. Maybe the herbs will jog something that’s stuck.
“I feel the same way. It’s like…I know I’ve heard that name before, but…” Serge clamps his eyes shut. Veins throb in his temples in an attempt to connect the dots between name and face.
“You might recognize the name from the story…but you wouldn’t know him. You weren’t there,” I realize. Serge’s face lights up as he realizes what I mean. I remember. “Roran was the Shifter who tipped off the events of the Ahwahneechee Thanksgiving Dinner.”
“Wha…why would they be meeting with… There has to be something going on,” says Serge. This all but confirms it, for both of us.
“Something…that everyone should know about,” I attest. Serge tilts his head at me, one eyebrow cocked higher than the other.
“Are you…sure?” Serge stumbles. How can I blame him? This is, after all, what opened the rift between us in the first place. “I mean…turning in your father and the Kyrie…” I lay a hand on his shoulder to stop his ramble.
“There are too few of us left now. There can’t be something like this going on, while the Lotus are still gunning for us,” I tell him. Serge stares at me, open-mouthed, for a few seconds. Then his head drops into a nod. His lips curve into the slightest, sweetest smile as the warmth from my hand leeches into his muscles.
“Attention,” Dragonlord Thise thunders throughout the room. Serge and I jump a few inches closer together at the sound of it. It takes a moment to realize she isn’t actually in the room. That it’s another cross-Academy broadcast, like the mission alerts. The Council needs no loudspeaker or PA to communicate to all of us at once. Simply a spell and a trick. “This is an announcement that the attack on the Lotus Library will occur tomorrow, at noon. We will divide our forces into a small group to defend the Academy, and a much larger one which will funnel into the Lotus Library. Rest well tonight. Come tomorrow, the fate of the supernatural will be decided. By us.”
Serge and I keep our faces turned upward, in the direction of the sound, a few seconds after it ends. Only once my eyes lower do I realize just how close we’ve drawn. One of my hands still rests on Serge’s shoulder. The other grips his shirt on his side. Both of his hands have found their way to my thighs. The feeling of his hands on me was so natural, until I notice them. In a heartbeat, they become as alien and exciting as the first time I felt them. Our faces lower to one another. Instinct tells me to slide back away. Desire tells me to lean in. I fight with these conflicting urges while I get lost in the even more mature lines of Serge’s face. The round glow of his golden irises. Tonight is for desire.
“Should we…go find Dorian and confront him?” I ask. My whisper crackles under the weight of everything coursing through my heart and mind.
“That could take all night…and I doubt he would take kindly to it,” Serge answers, equally as hushed. “Is it wise to generate that kind of tension the night before a huge battle?”
“And you already tried talking to the Council…” I dismiss the option. “Should we…just wait until after tomorrow? See where that brings us?”
“I think that’s the only logical choice. Considering we need the Kyrie to win this fight,” Serge agrees. Dorian wouldn’t risk making some kind of power play while the Lotus are still out there. That was the whole reason the Kyrie and Academy joined together in the first place.
“Right,” I nod. I gravitate forward toward Serge without thinking at first. Then, when I realize what I’m doing, I arch my back and lean low to show him the top curve of my breasts through my open collar. “There are…other ways to spend the night, too.” Serge gulps before he, too leans in, to meet me in the middle.
“Plenty of ways to relax and unwind before the big showdown tomorrow,” Serge agrees. I feel the shrinking distance of air between us cook with both of our body heat. My lips peel apart to line up perfectly with the spaces between Serge’s. But, right before they can lock together, Serge’s hand turns over on my thigh. I feel it as I hear it. Snap.
A whirlwind of air tosses my hair around me. The relative warmth of Serge’s countertop is replaced with the cool kiss of stone. Gone are the artificial overhead lights of his room, replaced with the oranges and violets of a sunset above the clouds. We’re on the high wall of the Academy’s perimeter. The place where I first tested my powers as a Dragon. The first place we kissed. Serge completes the circle by leaning hard into me.
Sensations overwhelm my brain too much for speech. All I can do is breathe and moan when his hands slide up over all the spots that please me. A mound of clothes piles up on the floor of the high walks over the Academy courtyards. I take the occasional glance around while Serge’s lips send goosebumps up and down my neck. There are but two souls outside. Two souls who crave one another, after so long apart.
I lean back on the chilly ramparts. The sensation perks up my bare nipples as they bounce out in the evening light. Serge parts my legs on one knee. He leans his face in. All I can do to cage the screams is grab fistfuls of his hair as his tongue enters me. The gentle grit of each pass floods me with the water of passion. I pull his face into me until Serge turns his head to plant a kiss on the ridge of my inner thigh. He rises, grazing his lips along the way. He reawakens my nerves with kisses on my stomach, nipples and neck. I slide a radiant, hot hand down over his cock. It’s so close already. Neither of us can hold back anymore. I slide the head in between my lips. Serge plunges gently, slowly and deeply inside of me.
Heat rises like the friction from two dry branches in both of us. I feel Serge’s heartbeat quicken through his chest as it flattens my own. He withdraws a few inches to push into me again. With each pass, I feel him shape my insides. I feel every twitch of his muscle through my own.
“Don’t hold back,” I whisper in his ear. Serge lets me know immediately that he has no plans to do so. He shoves his pelvis in against mine. The depth of him inside me displaces a moan of ecstasy. I lean back into the cradle of his thin, but toned arm. I let my legs hang loose to bounce on either side of him as Serge slaps into me again and again.
I feel Serge’s free hand slide down the inside of my thigh. I let out a girlish little giggle as his finger swirls around to join his cock, between my legs. With one, he delves deep into a cavern of my pleasure. With the other, he plays with my stiff clitoris. I lock my ankles around his back, so I can lean even further. So I can look into his gorgeous honeyed eyes. I sweep a hand back through the hair over his ear as I near the peak. I want him closer. As close as we can be, before tomorrow threatens to tear us apart all over.
The first tingle of orgasm opens my shivering lips in a cry. I pull Serge in with my legs. I clamp my teeth gently on his bottom lip, to stop myself from exploding. Serge locks hips with me, so deep he can hardly move. Yet still, he bounces me on the ramparts. Up and down the base of his ov
erstimulated cock. A low grunt bursts from his throat just before the first spurt of warmth inside me. I savor every heatwave, from the tips of my arrowhead nipples to the convulsing walls of my vagina. Serge puts his head down on my chest while he shoves himself in, slow, but hard. Each thrust quakes my entire body.
When the last of our tectonic plates have finished trembling, Serge stays inside me for one long, last kiss. I count the seconds I don’t want to end. When he pulls back an inch, I ensure that they don’t by resting my head under his chin. We both turn just slightly sideways. Just enough to watch the sun vanish below the mountainside. Darkness falls on California, then our bare, entwined bodies.
The Lotus Library
Emery,
The Broken Academy, Darius’ Room
I smile down at Darius, pinned beneath my flattening palms. It’s only at times like these I can feel his faintly thrumming pulse. I feel it through my fingers as they compress his chilled, bony chest. I feel it between my legs as his cock throbs inside me. I lift and lower my hips in rhythm. I accelerate and slow to surprise my partner’s body and my own with tingles of surprise.
The tickle convulses every muscle from the insides of my thighs to the deepest reaches of my vagina. The head of Darius’ penis plunges deeper still, his waist flattening against me between my legs every time I come down. Then, at last, I clench him between my legs. I lower my trembling lips to his. A close-mouthed moan shakes across our kiss. Darius rounds his hands around my butt to pull me down on him a few times more. At the end of my own orgasm, I turn my head to let him kiss my neck while he finishes. It sends a shiver down my back and front.
His last pumps of love work out inside me. Darius’ head hits his pillow. Mine hangs backward in euphoria. I feel Darius’ fingers lace through mine. I relax on top of him a little, hanging over him like a shady tree, shielding him from elements, and everything. And I’d be that tree, without question, every day. If only I didn’t feel so thin and shaky, myself.
“Well…did it work?” Darius pants. I roll my head around to face him again. His hopeful smirk makes me want to tell him anything but the truth. “You feeling any better?” he asks. He must have noticed my eyes dodging around the room, or heard my heart flutter or something. Damn him and his Vampire senses.
“Oh yeah, tons,” I smile at him. I give it my best, too, with the cute little wink he makes fun of me for. But there’s one man I can’t trick, and he’s pinned between my legs. Darius cocks an eyebrow up at me.
“First of all, bullshit,” Darius calls me out. He gives the slightest tug on my hands. I surrender to it instantly. I fold over on him, warmth to cold, chest to chest. My heart beats against him, hard enough for both of us. “Second of all, what makes you so convinced you’ll see Heren at this showdown?” I nestle my head under Darius’ chin.
“He’s their leader. One of their best fighters. I’m one of ours,” I say. I pause for Darius to interject. He only looks up at me, expectantly. “What, no poke at my conceit?” Darius shrugs.
“It’s moot. We both know you’re right,” he says, so casually it’s somehow twice as powerful as an outright compliment. “But just because you’re both good fighters doesn't mean you’re destined to fight.”
“That’s just it… I feel like it is destiny, or something. Like we are connected in some weird, horrible way. At every turn…he’s there to remind me how little all my tricks amount to, in the face of the Lotus. That I can be extinguished, just like that.” Every thought about the accursed Heren comes pouring from the uncorked bottle at once.
“Listen to me, Emery Dalshak,” Darius says. He sits up just enough so we can connect at the eyes, inches away from one another. It rushes back to me how we hung this close together once, as enemies. What stopped us from killing one another back then is the same as what binds us so closely together now. It’s why, when Darius says to listen, I do. “Even if you went one-on-one against Heren, even if he had an advantage over you, he couldn’t extinguish you any more than another poor idiot who might try. And you won’t be going one-on-one. I’ll be there, at least. And I don’t think I’ll be the only one. Heren doesn’t stand a goddamn chance.”
“Thanks, Darius,” my face twists up in a smirk, against the stressed wrinkles across my forehead. I don’t think there’s a combination of words in any Realm that would make it all better, but he’s pretty close. Then those wrinkles work out of my head with a realization. “Darius, that’s it. You crazy genius! I need you.”
“Well, I’m here,” he laughs at my outburst.
“No, no, I mean yes. But also, what if you made me like you?” I ask. If someone had asked me before then if Darius could get any paler, I’d have said no. But he can, and he does.
“You mean a callous cynic, right?” Darius asks, no, pleads. He knows exactly what I mean.
“The best offense against the Lotus is something they’ve never seen before! Like Cece. Astral and Dragon. Just think the advantage it would give us to have another hybrid! Magician and Vampire.”
“Get it out of your head,” says Darius. There’s a certain finality to his voice that I’ve rarely heard. His face becomes a stone statue of disapproval. No, it’s stronger than that. He hates the idea.
“You heard everyone at the meeting! We don’t know what their numbers are really like. We hardly know what we’re in for here, Darius. We need every-”
“No,” Darius cuts me off. “And a thousand more nos for every time you ask. No. Humans have basic needs. Food. Shelter. Connection. When you add a new need…one that must be taken from others…it changes you. Some people, just a bit. Some people, you wouldn’t even recognize. I won’t risk everything I love about you for an edge against those bastards.”
“Darius…” in the minute we’ve discussed it, I managed to string together a whole argument for my Vampire-Magician case. If I could get it out, it might be convincing, even to Darius. But it runs right out of my head in the face of his pain. He looks like there’s a dagger sticking from somewhere he can’t reach.
“We’ll bury them. We’ll bury this whole stupid war. And we’ll do it without ruining you. Understand?” Darius says. As if he hadn’t already dissuaded me. The word ruined sinks deep into my mind, where previously I thought there had been a good idea.
“Yeah,” I answer. I put my head down on Darius’ chest to hide the heat flushing my cheeks. He feels it against his cold, bare skin, instead.
We don’t speak of it again for the rest of the night. We don’t speak of anything. We just enjoy one another’s company. I make it about another hour before the last echoes of regret slip out of my mind. Before I slip away into sleep.
Emery,
The Broken Academy, Courtyard
The next morning comes and goes. Every bite of my breakfast sinks heavy in my gut. It’s like my stomach knows it might be the last time food drops into it. Then it’s time to form up.
I line up beside the other rear-rank supporters. Magicians, Witches, Warlocks and Shifters mix in lines on either side of me, and beside me. I’m surrounded by an odd collection of begrudging relatives, Academy colleagues, dear friends, Councilmembers and former lovers. Chief Botan, Sorceress Lily and Magister Reynold are nearby. Helena is close to my right. She gives me a firm nod to remind me that not one of us out here is alone. That we do stand a chance, and a damn good one at that. Beside her is Rock. Awkward as it feels sometimes, it warms my heart to see her and Rock join hands now. They both deserve one another.
A few rows ahead of us is Darius. He waits with Bart and the rest of the Vampire forward line. When the Dragons need backup, they’ll be the first to jump in. My heart thumps double-time, thinking of him in direct Lotus fire. But I have to believe in him as much as he does in me. A few more ranks ahead of him is our foreman. The shimmering blue outline of a man who used to be Hoster. I offered to help him with his portal earlier. He made the valid point that there was no sense in me wasting strength I’d need when the battle began. And it seems that, after te
n minutes of waiting in formation, the time has finally come. Hoster turns around to face us.
“The Lotus aren’t monitoring the Silver Realm right now. I’ll open the bridge. Cross quickly, and fan out once you’re in the Library,” he says.
Hoster’s frame itself dissolves into a loose rectangle and opens wide. He becomes the portal. A world of deep, endless blue awaits inside. Chains of silver bodies flicker, like sails in some unfelt wind. Through the middle of it, a silver-glass bridge of Astral energy builds itself. Hoster opens the way. Our first platoon of Astrals, Demons and Dragons funnels in.
It doesn’t hit me until a space opens up ahead of me, to move forward. Some of us have already gone through. Some might be in the middle of the Lotus Library already. It’s started. I step forward with Helena, Rock and the rest of our row. Every few seconds, we advance. We move closer to an impending spiritual throat, waiting to swallow us. I gulp as I watch Darius’ back shrink down the spirit-bridge inside the portal. I feel Helena grab my hand. She holds tight right up until we step through the gate to the Silver Realm ourselves.
Despite the movements of the Silver Fiends within, there’s no wind here. It feels like there might not be air in here at all. The nothingness around us acts almost like a pressure in itself. It ushers us forward across Hoster’s bridge as quickly as we can go. Another new world comes into being ahead of us, at the other end of it. A rectangular window hangs open, just like the one we used to get here. It shows us a world of yellow light and bookshelves. As we get closer, I keep expecting the sound to kick in. For lights to flash. Screams to sound. But, even as we stand right before the door to the Lotus Library, there’s nothing. Nothing but wreckage.
Our line hops through onto the cold tile floor with a solemn tap. I do hear the sounds of battle, somewhere, but they’re coming from far away. I’m not even sure if the fight is still in the same room it started. All that remains where we come through are smoking mounds of crumbled bookshelves. Ancient pages flicker with the last dregs of fire. Tiny mounds of coal and ash collect in every corner. I turn to Helena and Rock to signal the direction the sound is coming from. They nod in agreement, and we begin our creep through the sweltering collection of age-old grimoires.