by Ford, Lizzy
Images flooded her mind, Damian’s, Claire’s, Isac’s. She saw Damian watch the new king get his tattoo as a rite of passage, saw it again as Claire made love to the man meant to be her husband, saw it in Isac’s vision as he hacked the tattooed man apart. The man hiding in the corner of her mind, he whose death plagued Damian for thousands of years.
Darian.
She staggered back, the visions cementing in her mind, overwhelming her. She tripped, and her head snapped back. Two caught her before she hit the ground. His stunted memories collided with the others running through her mind. His honey-colored eyes were visible in the harsh lighting of the room.
“Darian!”
His pupils dilated. He placed her on the table and retreated, shaking his head and swiping at the air around him, as if plagued by bees.
“Darian,” she repeated.
Kiri, answered the tortured voice of the man in her head.
Seizing control of himself, Two stepped forward and pushed her back, binding her to the table again. Her hope soared, and she watched him return to his corner.
“Your name is Darian. Your brother is Damian. You were born two years apart. You were supposed to marry Claire …” She went on, closing her eyes as she repeated everything from the memories of others.
He didn’t move, didn’t respond. She spoke until she was hoarse. Her hope flagged, and she cried, then started again. She spoke until she drifted into an uncomfortable doze only to awake when he released her. Cramped, she stretched before approaching him again. She pulled the necklace from her neck.
“Look,” she said and touched his bicep.
Mechanically, he rolled his sleeve and pricked his wrist. The curtain blocking him from his memories was less defined, like ice beginning to thaw.
“This is who you are,” she said, holding up the symbol. “Your name is Darian. Your brother is …”
She started over, talking until he bound her to the table once more. But he showed no sign of life as he took up his position in his corner, and desperation crept through her. She cried and kept talking, her sentences punctuated by sobs. At last, she stopped speaking and lay, exhausted. If there was a way to make him see what was in her head … to make him remember … she focused on Damian’s memories, the ones before the dark age, when he and his brother were happy.
“Hungry,” she whispered.
Two obeyed and moved forward, slicing his wrist for her again. As she drank, she replayed Damian’s memories over and over.
Damian needs you.
“Kiri.” His hoarse voice threw her off guard.
“Think, Darian, think,” she said. “Do you remember your brother Damian?”
An image flashed, that of Damian chained to a wall. Tears formed in her eyes.
“Yes,” she choked out. “Damian. Your brother.”
“Don’t cry, kiri.” He was struggling. She replayed the home videos, closing her eyes and focusing. If he were like his brother, he would hear her thoughts.
Two returned to his corner. She kept the movies playing, focusing on nothing other than the brothers’ time together. She drifted into a doze.
“Damian,” Two said, waking her.
“He needs you,” she whispered. “He’s in trouble.”
“Damian in trouble,” he repeated.
“Yes, Darian.”
“Don’t cry, kiri.” He fell into silence again for several hours. When he freed her again, she approached him and touched his hood.
“Remove it, Darian.”
He didn’t respond. She touched his arm, replaying the videos. After a brief mental tug-o-war, he pulled off the hood with one hand. His face was as deeply scarred as his hands. His hair was brown rather than white-blond, his beautiful eyes deep set and large. She took his face in her hands the way she had Damian the night he wanted to destroy the world and forced him to meet her gaze. His honey gaze was still.
“Damian needs you,” she whispered. “He’s in danger. I love him, Darian. Please help us.”
“Damian.”
She rose to her tiptoes and kissed him, her own memories of Damian forefront in her mind. She replayed their first kiss, his ring, the way his men spoke of him. She showed him Czerno - his master - and the darkness in Czerno’s mind. She dropped to her feet and moved away.
“Kiri.” His eyes were closed as he said the word.
“Your name is Darian. Your brother is Damian.” She touched her hands to his cheeks again. Emotions rippled across his face. “Please, Darian, please. You can do this.”
His eyes opened, and he met her gaze. For the first time, she sensed he was aware of her and his surroundings. His golden eyes swirled.
“Remember,” she said, holding up the necklace.
“Two!” Czerno pounded on the door. She waited. The life died from Two’s eyes, and he replaced his hood.
“No. No, no, no!” she shouted, pounding on his chest. Sobbing, she dropped to her knees. Two stepped aside. Czerno entered.
“Congrats. You’ve survived two days. Looks like I was right,” he said, satisfied. “Two, put her on the table. Kill Damian and come back when you’re done.”
Sofia tried to push him away as he lifted her onto the table. There was a tug at her neck, and she touched it, surprised to find the necklace gone. Two left, the necklace dangling in his hand. She sensed his deep confusion. He took the symbol with him for a reason, even if he didn’t fully understand what. Her sudden flicker of hope died when Czerno spoke again.
“As soon as he’s done, we’ll start working on you,” the Black God promised. “Start thinking of which way you want me to fuck you first.” He closed the door behind him with a cold laugh, not bothering to bind her.
She curled on her side and wept.
I love you, Damian. Please forgive me!
Two had never heard kiri cry so hard. Her heart was breaking. He walked through the halls quickly, the emerging thoughts in his head baffling him. He couldn’t remember what the master had ordered him away to do. Something about Damian, the man who made kiri cry. All he could see in his head was kiri sobbing and the dreams she’d made him remember. They weren’t good dreams, and the ones she showed him weren’t the only ones in his head. Every step he took brought more memories of people and places he felt to his core he knew – but couldn’t recognize.
“Don’t cry, kiri,” he said in a ragged voice and gripped his head.
He didn’t know what to do. His master was hurting her. Why didn’t she go back to his head, where she was safe? Why did she come to see him? He took care of her and fed her and let her walk around. Every time he freed her, he hoped she would return to his head. But she didn’t.
Damian. Darian.
The images she’d put his head made him stagger and fall against the rough wall. The chain around his hand bit into his finger, and he looked at it. It was kiri’s. He rolled up his sleeve, staring in wonder at the tattoo on his bicep. He didn’t remember how he got it, and he doubted it’d been there before kiri put it there hours before.
Damian needs you. Please help him, Darian. He was Darian, eldest son of the White God.
The dreams bombarded him faster now. He looked around him and at the necklace in his hand. He was going to Damian. If he freed Damian, kiri would go back to his head, where his master couldn’t hurt her.
Two went to Damian’s cell and opened the door. Damian was still and silent, but he wasn’t dead. No, the master had been waiting to kill him, had been feeding Damian the same juice Two stopped drinking. Damian was chained to the wall so he could be force fed what looked like fruit punch. Two had helped force feed him, before he knew kiri loved him. Damian was the strongest man Two had ever met.
As Two gazed at Damian, another flash of images driving him to his knees. His gaze fell to the silvery ring the man before him wore. Two pulled up his sleeve. Damian had a symbol like his on his ring. He lifted the chain, kiri’s chain, and looked at the identical marks, struck by the idea that he somehow belonged to the sa
me world they did.
Two released Damian from the bonds and lifted him over his shoulders. He made his way through the crowded halls, grunting under the weight of the man. He followed a familiar path through a narrowing hall and looked at his palm for the three codes written in green ink there. Three doorways, three codes. The walk was familiar, though he didn’t recall ever taking it before.
He took Damian outside to the rock where he and kiri had watched the stars once long ago and set him down. He gripped his head, which pulsed at the flood of images and kiri’s own sobs.
“Don’t cry, kiri,” Two said.
He knelt over Damian and pulled the ring from his finger. He placed the necklace in Damian’s hand and closed it gently.
“From kiri,” he told the unconscious man. “She loves you, and she’s sorry.”
He turned and made his way through the doors he suddenly remembered traversing many times the past few days. And now that he’d done what she asked and saved Damian, he would return to kiri to convince her to return to his head, before his master killed her.
Two’s chest clenched at the thought, and he was afraid. He didn’t want kiri to die. She was his. She was all he had. As he stumbled through the halls, he heard the alarms blare.
He had to hurry.
Alarms sounded a few moments before the doors exploded off their hinges.
“What did you do?” Czerno roared in an inhuman voice.
Sofia darted off the table, staring at him as he entered, trailed by Two and the man with green eyes. The man with green eyes leaned over to Two, whispering to him. Two bowed his head, and the green-eyed man was gone in a sparkle of light.
“How did you free him? How did you alert them?” Czerno demanded, snatching her arm so hard she cried out.
“I’ve been right here!” she said, shoving at him and his black memories.
His backhand sent her world reeling. Fire lit up half her face, and she tasted blood in her mouth. She landed hard. He kicked her in the stomach, and she gasped. Czerno snatched her arm, his other hand raised for another blow.
“Master, they’ve penetrated the perimeter!” a voice shouted from down the hallway. The Black God looked from her towards the direction of the voice. He pushed her down and stepped over her, striding quickly to the door.
“Two, bring her,” the infuriated Black God ordered. Two obeyed, lifting her off the floor and carrying her. She gazed up at him as he followed Czerno, looking again for some sign of life in his still gold eyes.
“Darian,” she whispered. “Please, Darian, come back to me.”
He didn’t even look at her, and her hope plummeted again. They stopped in a small command center, where one wall displayed monitors.
“Now!” Czerno barked.
Jule’s face materialized on the screen. Czerno snatched Sofia and dragged her close, the visions making her stagger.
“Where’s Damian?” Jule demanded.
“Get your men out of here!” Czerno ordered. “Quickly, before I kill her!”
Fire tore through her, and she cried out. It increased, the sensation of frying from the inside out.
“Stop,” Jule ordered. “Dusty, order a withdrawal.”
The fire burned hot enough to devour Czerno’s dark memories.
I’ll protect you, kiri. The voice in her head came from Two. Czerno released her, and she fell, her body seizing in agony.
“Czerno! We’re pulling out!”
“Cut it!” Czerno snarled. He kicked her as he passed. Jule’s face disappeared from the screen, and the pain eased. Unable to move, she panted, body convulsing with aftershocks from the attack.
“They don’t have him! He’s here, somewhere! Find him!” Czerno ordered.
His vamps scampered out of the command center to obey. He stalked to her again and dragged her up. The man with the green eyes was suddenly behind him, watching her.
“I don’t give a damn if he escapes. I have you,” he growled. “Two, take this bitch to the helo-pad. We’re evacuating.” He hit her one more time, and she careened against Two, caught between consciousness and darkness. Two lifted her and carried her into a hallway teeming with vamps.
Damian was free! The thought pierced her thoughts, and she sagged against Two, not caring if she survived or not. Two took her down a quieter hall and set her down. She doubled over, pain from Czerno’s attacks crippling her.
Two knelt over her. He held Damian’s ring in front of her face and then tucked it into her jeans. He cocked his head to the side, as if listening to someone.
“Yes, master,” he said to no one she saw.
She closed her eyes, in too much pain to concentrate. He touched her, and familiar warmth flashed through her, easing the pain. Two pulled her to her feet. Sofia stared up at him, not daring to hope he’d help her. He stalked down the hall. She watched him, tempted to run away, before realizing the amount of activity in the halls behind her guaranteed her capture.
She jogged after him with great effort as he strode through the maze. He emerged into a busier hall and waited for her, taking her arm and leading her through the vamps. They passed through the activity unscathed before he started down another hall. The alarms faded, and the halls grew cruder, unfinished. Sofia followed him as the halls angled up and narrowed until Two had to walk through them sideways. He reached a door finally and typed in the access code. It opened. They passed through two more doors before exiting into a cold desert night on the side of a mountain, overlooking the activity at the elevator’s entrance.
Sofia almost cried in relief. Two continued walking, finding a narrow path in the dark and starting down it. She followed, shivering. The path wound its way downward, dumping them into a draw far enough away to be safe. Two walked on once he reached the desert, and she trotted after him, looking back at the floodlit entrance to the elevator. Gunshots streaked around the entrance. A massive explosion went off, shaking the ground beneath them.
She stopped and stared, throat tightening.
“Damian,” she whispered.
Two took her arm, driving her onward. When assured she’d follow, he released her and marched on into the desert, away from the mountain. A sense of familiarity hit her as they neared a clump of rocks. She’d seen it in Pierre’s future. The images she’d seen the night of the Quarterly replayed in her mind.
Pierre unloading his shotgun on the man in executioner’s garb from Czerno’s. It was dark, cold, and the shots hit the man with lopsided shoulders, dropping him dead to the ground. An explosion blazed in the distance. A woman was screaming, another man shouting.
The Guardians were here, ready to take the shot that would kill Darian. Urgency jarred her out of the memory, and she launched forward.
“Pierre, no!” she shouted, running past Two.
He snatched her as she passed, but not before she heard a shot and felt fire burn through her. She was driven back against Two, who caught her. Warm blood splattered her neck and face. She cried out in pain.
“Let her go!” She recognized Pierre’s voice.
Two lowered her, pulling up his sleeves to fight.
“No!” She barked and snatched his shirt.
“Fuck, Pierre!” Dustin snarled. “Sofia? You okay?”
“I’m … okay,” she said, suddenly dizzy. “Dustin, don’t shoot him, please! Please!”
A dark shape moved from the rocks while three more fanned out from the sides. Two strained against her grip and tensed. Sofia held onto him as if his life depended on it and shook her head to clear the dizziness.
“Darian, lower your head,” she ordered. The man beside her hesitated and then obeyed. She yanked his hood off.
“Dusty, Jule’s got him!” Rainy shouted triumphantly. “I’m calling the choppers.”
“Fast,” Dustin ordered. “The vamps are heading this way.”
She twisted her head to see the jumbled outlines of the small army of vamps running toward them from the direction of the burning mountain. A flashlight blind
ed her. She held up her hand.
“Mon dieu!” Pierre said then cursed in French.
“Holy shit,” Dustin breathed as the flashlight rose to Darian’s face. “Holster ’em! Now!”
He moved forward, stopping to stare at Darian.
Pierre dropped beside her, muttering. Sofia sagged, exhausted. Before she started to drift into an in-between place, she saw Darian stand and look around, awake for the first time in thousands of years.
Dustin’s face was a mottled mess of emotions. Darian eyed him warily, not recognizing him, before he knelt beside her again. Heat scorched through her and she gasped, fully awake once again.
“You can see the stars, kiri,” he said in his monotonous, mechanical voice.
“I know, Darian. You did good,” she managed.
“Rainy, where’s my chopper?” Dustin shouted, drawing his weapon again.
“Looks like we should start running, non?” Pierre asked.
Sofia pushed Darian’s hands away. Though she was fatigued, her wounds were healed. Pierre hauled her up.
“Pierre, carry her. We’ll run,” Dustin said.
I’ll protect you, kiri, Darian said into her mind. Before Pierre could comply with Dustin’s order, Darian shoved him aside and swept her off her feet.
They ran to the next nearest group of rocks, where a handful of four-by-fours waited. Darian placed her behind Dustin and climbed behind Rainy. Sofia wrapped her arms around Dustin and squeezed her eyes closed as the engine roared to life. Sand flew as they soared and leapt through the desert. The distant beat of a helicopter’s wings drew closer as they raced away from the mountains. A chopper landed ahead of them on a wide, flat mesa.
Dustin braked hard and swung his leg over the handlebars.
“Sofi, go! Rainy, Lon, with me!”
Sofia shielded her eyes against the wind and sand. She hopped off the four by four, reached out to Darian and grabbed his hand, pulling him with her. His world was one of confusion, his memories overwhelming as the dam that had been in place for thousands of years crumbled. Darian held his head, and she wrapped her arms around him, wishing she could protect him from the dark memories breaking free.