by Libby Doyle
“I would venture to say none are,” Pellus added. “Let me cloak you. We will enjoy some spirits until we are summoned.”
The three friends sat drinking and discussing Jeduthan’s latest project to produce an updated history of the Artisans’ Guild. As Jeduthan and Pellus began to gossip about the sexual antics of a few warriors they knew, Barakiel stole looks at Pellus and turned away quickly when the adept met his eyes. He rubbed his forearm.
“My friend, you are telegraphing so much anxiety that I hardly need to rely on that little tell you have with your arm,” Pellus said. “What in all the realms is the matter with you?”
Barakiel took a deep breath. He considered his approach. “Uh, have I told you that Zan is good at her job?”
“Why are you saying this to me?” Pellus spoke in a wary voice.
“She found Archibaud, and he has told the French police about the false monks. Essentially, he gave them the same information he gave to us.”
Pellus raised his hands to his forehead, leaned back and groaned. “Demon take the FBI!” he said. Jeduthan gaped at him. “Did he tell them we were there?” he asked, shooting up off his seat.
“No. At least we can be thankful for that bit of good fortune.”
“Good fortune that will no doubt be very short lived!” Pellus rushed around in a circle. “As soon as the police find that compound, seemingly deserted in mid-meal, as soon as they find those repulsive films and photographs, they will question him again. Ah, this is terrible.”
Jeduthan went to him. She caressed his face. “Beloved, I have rarely seen you so distressed.” Pellus hugged her.
“I am all right, beloved, but this could turn into a serious problem.”
“I think you are overreacting,” Barakiel said. “How could they possibly find us even if they obtain a description? We did not arrive there by any human conveyance. We have no earthly connection to those monks.”
Disentangling himself from Jeduthan, Pellus took a step toward Barakiel and fixed him with a furious glare.
“Have I told you that Zan is good at her job?”
Barakiel could not help but laugh. “Yes. Zan will know instantly,” he said. “But she loves me, so there is that.”
“Yes, she does,” Pellus said. He gave Barakiel a look so mournful that the smile died on his face.
He knows I will tell her everything.
“Please do not worry,” Barakiel said. “If Zan confronts me, I will deny it. She cannot prove anything.”
Pellus retained his mournful look as Jeduthan rubbed his back.
“I think you are disingenuous, saying that to us, warrior,” Jeduthan said. “You are trying to reassure Pellus, but we all know you would never sincerely talk about Zan in that manner.”
Barakiel lowered his eyes. “No. I would not.”
“All right,” she said. “Let us forget these high emotions and solve the problem. My brilliant Pellus, I know if you give it but a moment’s thought, you will see the solution. What does Archibaud have to gain by telling the police about your visit? What might he gain by keeping his mouth shut?”
With a grin, Pellus seized his mate to give her a passionate kiss. Barakiel grinned in turn. When Pellus released Jeduthan from his embrace, she joined in their beaming.
“Ah, Jeduthan, I love you,” Pellus said. “Here is what I shall do. I will pay a visit to Archibaud, concealed until I am alone with him. I will give him a large sum of money to refrain from mentioning us to the police, and a second large sum of money if six earthly months pass and I am satisfied he has held to the bargain. I will tell him that any word to the police about our previous visit is likely to result in your rather large frame upon his doorstep.”
“I think he will see the wisdom in keeping his mouth shut.” Barakiel’s grin got wider.
Half a turn had passed by the time the message came through the Conduit. As he and Pellus walked the stone pathways to the Keep, Barakiel ginned up his confidence.
If they want my help they will grant my request.
The Council invited them to sit once they were admitted to the chamber, its shimmering pillars halfway through their endless cycle of formation and disintegration. Barakiel thought the seats might be a sign of his new status. Abraxos regarded him with a sour look.
How unfortunate for you, Abraxos, that I am the best fighter in the Realm.
Ravellen addressed him when the greetings were finished. “Well, Barakiel, here you are again. Though I must admit, it is disconcerting to interact with you when you are cloaked.”
“It is disconcerting for me as well, Madam President.”
“Yes, I can imagine. Now, down to business. As you know, the High Command came here to make a request on your behalf, an unprecedented turn of events. After much discussion, we have decided to grant your request subject to a number of conditions.”
Barakiel maintained a serious air, though he wanted to hoot in congratulation.
I am in good company. I can see the smile in Ravellen’s eyes.
“First, Pellus, your rank will not be restored,” she said. “You may earn it back eventually, in a manner to be determined by the Council and the Guild.
“In addition, when Barakiel fights in the Turning, you will report to the Council attendants and remain in the Keep until the battle is over. We fear you may be tempted to safeguard your beloved warrior again.”
“I assure you, that is not necessary,” Pellus said. “My mate knows I very nearly did not make it back. I have promised her I will not do it again.”
“I believe you,” Ravellen said. “But appearances are critical. We do not want other adepts to try the same thing. I shudder to think what Lucifer would do with an adept he had abducted from the battlefield. And to be honest, the citizens need to see that the Council can control you. This request was granted by a slim majority. Without this measure, permission will be withdrawn.”
“Well, you cannot make it clearer than that, Madam President,” Pellus said. “I understand. Thank you for your candor.”
“That is not all,” Abraxos said, the sour look still fixed on his face. “You will no longer be free to go to the Earthly Realm whenever you please. You will travel there in fulfillment of your duty and nothing more. Do not forget that we have the means to check on you, Pellus. If you violate this condition, you will no longer be allowed to serve as Barakiel’s traveler.”
“With respect, who decides what is in service of my duty?” Pellus asked. “I am the steward of Barakiel’s wealth in the Earthly Realm. I have many reasons to go there beyond his battles at the change of seasons and to shuttle him here.”
“The Council has voted that Ravellen will decide,” Abraxos said, stiffly. “You will inform her of the reason for every trip.”
Pellus nodded. “As the Council wishes.”
The adept studiously refused to look at Barakiel.
He is afraid I will burst out laughing.
“All right, fine Covalent,” Ravellen said. “You have your permission and your conditions. You may leave now. Good luck in your battles, Barakiel. Hopefully, you can help another battalion the way you have helped Osmadiel’s.”
“I am confident that I can, Madam President.”
You will not regret this, Ravellen. We know we have you to thank.
CHAPTER 15
Philadelphia
NIGHT HAD FALLEN by the time Barakiel made it back to his compound. The air was silky warm, but he could smell the coming autumn, a dry, earthy scent hanging at high altitude. He and Pellus had emerged from the rift a short walk away, but the traveler had immediately returned to the Covalent Realm, as eager to celebrate with Jeduthan as Barakiel was to celebrate with Zan.
Gratitude had left him giddy. His senses heated the closer he got to Zan, who waited for him at his place. Her willingness to wait there gave him joy. He loved the idea of coming home to her.
When he entered the house, he heard her in the weapons room. He bounded up the stairs to find her in yoga p
ants and a sports bra, covered in sweat, doing a form with an enormous halberd. He watched her as she gracefully swept the long weapon over her head then lunged forward, her muscles flexing. He caught the scent of a subtle change in her body.
She knows I am here.
“It’s about time you got home. Trying to sneak up on me?” she asked. She continued to execute the form.
“Yes. I’m pleased to see it’s not easy.”
Zan stopped moving and turned to him. The hunger in her eyes matched his own.
“I wanted to see if I could do the form you taught me with a real weapon.”
Barakiel took another halberd from the wall and walked slowly toward Zan.
“Let’s see if you can apply what you’ve learned.” He dipped the blade of the halberd close to the floor near her left foot. Her eyes were impossibly bright.
“Now, using the techniques within the form, try to bring your blade to my throat.”
His voice had the quality of a whisper, but it was not quiet. Zan flew into motion, sweeping left, then right, then down from above, attempting to penetrate Barakiel’s defenses. He parried her attacks with ease and gently counterattacked. She repelled him with sharp movements.
Zan swung her weapon, high to low to high, in an admirable attempt at misdirection. She passed close by, planning to attack from the rear. He smelled her excitement and sweat and a surge of lust made his body stiffen.
I am going to claim you for hours.
Barakiel pivoted to face her as she swept her halberd from left to right, towards his head. When he met her attack with the staff of his weapon, she whirled in the opposite direction. He remained still as she brought the blade within an inch of his neck.
“Well done,” he said.
“You let me do that.” She scowled dramatically. Barakiel smiled and let his admiration flood his eyes.
“You would have bested most men.”
“But you’re not most men.”
“No, I’m not.” He inhaled deeply, taking her scent. Zan blew air softly from her lips, her pupils dilated. He growled and her heart beat faster. Perfectly still, he watched her. He listened to her body.
You are calling to me, my love.
He took both halberds and set them gently on the floor. A wave of power washed over him as he slipped off her pants, then crushed his face to her belly, hearing and feeling her blood rush to his touch. He gathered her in his arms and walked to the heavy wooden doors, pressing her against them as he bit her neck. Zan wrapped her legs around him. She shoved her hands between their bodies to unbutton his pants but stopped when he pinned her head to the doors with a famished kiss. As he reached with his tongue to feel her, she sucked on him, purring, inviting him to come inside her. He kicked off his pants and surged into her.
“Hold on,” he whispered. She tightened her grip as he flattened his palms on either side of her, pushing into her as wave after wave of energy raced up his spine.
The power hummed through him, edging him toward a desperate euphoria, a mad hunger to join with her in Union. He couldn’t allow it, so he focused on the feel and sound of her blood as it flowed to the flesh that held him. He smashed his face to her neck, licked her and bit her, tasting her saltiness. He thrust into her again and again as her hips strained to meet him. He heard a crack as the door protested.
“We’re going, uh, uh, gonna break the door,” Zan said, gulping for air. Chuckling, Rainer carried her to the Persian rug in the center of the huge room, where he dropped to his knees. Gently, he brought them to the floor, then resumed his motion inside her. He groaned with satisfaction as he plunged in deep, as she pulsed against his sensitive cock. He freed his wild impulse as much as he dared, stroking down and up and around, waiting for more of her blood to surround him. The electricity in her body crackled against his skin as it raced to her brain to dance there, to light her up. Zan yanked his hair, emitting a soft velvet moan each time he sank into her. Her body was so open beneath him, so accepting, that he nearly lost control in his joy.
He slowed his hips and kissed her, needy, wet and soft. He concentrated on the quiver that built inside her. Her body fluttered along his length as he gazed at her, inhaling deeply, savoring her rich, creamy smell.
“Look at me,” he whispered. She opened her beautiful eyes.
“I love you, Zan.”
Rainer moved gently inside her, holding her on the cusp as her body’s response played all around him. Zan trilled and squeezed her eyes shut, tears leaking from their corners. Then he felt it. The implosion. Her juices bathed him in silky energy as her body gripped him in a tight embrace. He released his final wave with a strong forward surge. His back arched. He roared, his arms flung wide. Delirious pleasure raced up his spine, his mind emptied of everything but this euphoria. He swayed slightly in the aftershock and fell onto Zan’s body, delivering a sloppy kiss before he settled his face in the crook of her neck. They lay quiet and sated for a time.
Eventually, Zan shifted beneath him. “How do you do that to me?” she whispered.
“Love. We have a powerful love.” He nuzzled her cheek.
“More than powerful,” she said in a childlike, tumbling voice. “It’s powerful and gentle and dangerous and safe and new and old, and I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
He rolled her on top of him. “Me too,” he said. “This joy, it must be a type of insanity.”
Zan hid her face in his hair. She snuffled for a few seconds, then propped herself up and smiled down at him. “I guess you missed me, eh? While you were up to your mysterious things.”
Barakiel almost poured it all out. How he almost died. How Pellus had saved him and paid a terrible price. How they tried to take Pellus away from him, but that it was better now. He’d fought well and everything was better now.
Yet he held off. Two more days until the equinox. If Zan failed to accept him, he could not be certain he would have the will to fight demons, let alone the Corrupted if they appeared.
“I missed you terribly,” he said.
“And that’s all you’re going to tell me, isn’t it?”
“I will tell you this.” He ran his hands up her back to rest them on her shoulders. “That difficult situation I told you about? Much improved.”
“So, what about your promise to tell me all the things you’ve been hiding?”
“Soon, my love. Come here at the hour of the autumnal equinox and wait for me. I will tell you everything. I will be ready.”
“The hour of the autumnal equinox?” Zan said, laughing. “You just get stranger and stranger, don’t you?”
“Monday at 10:30 p.m.”
Zan laughed harder at this. Her whole body shook. After a minute she got ahold of herself. She stroked his face and kissed him.
“Sorry. I couldn’t stop. I’m just so giddy and excited. I don’t want there to be any secrets between us. I think we can have the kind of relationship I never even let myself dream about before.”
“We will, my love. We will.” He sunk his hands in her hair and pressed his forehead to hers. Zan lifted his shirt so she could trace her fingers along his rippled abdomen. She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him upright to remove the shirt, then pushed him back to the floor. She bent to trail her tongue along the grooves of his abs.
“Mmmmm, Zan.”
She grinned mischievously as she licked him. As she traveled slowly downward. His body stirred.
“Ready for round two?” she asked.
Suddenly he pulled her up and crushed her to him, his mouth close to her ear.
“My love, I’m always ready,” he said. “Whenever you’re near I’m half mad with passion.”
“The things you say.”
You often look amused as you sleep, my love, as if you are sharing some private joke with your subconscious. Your lips ruffle and it makes me want to kiss you, but if I woke you now you would find terror in my eyes. I am so afraid to tell you what I am, yet I have never looked forward to anything more.
Will you be angry? You have every right to be angry at my endless lies. Furious that I could have died in battle and you would never have known what happened to me. Will you leave me?
Please do not leave me, my love. I will reveal myself to you. You will see the blood of demons painted on my limbs. After the equinox, we will go north to the mountains where the trees glow red and gold. We will climb to the sky and I will gather its power to share with you. You will feel me. You will know all that I am.
GLOSSARY
Balance
The wellspring of Covalent power, the equilibrium of Creation and Destruction, order and entropy, attraction and repulsion, love and hate.
The Turning
The energy field that surrounds and safeguards the Covalent Realm. Created by the Guardians to bond the expanding forces of Creation and Destruction when they threatened to wipe out the cosmos. The Turning holds these elemental forces in Balance.
The Guardians
Ancient Covalent warriors who fused their minds and energies to bond the elemental forces and form the Turning, an event known as The Rising.
Warriors of the Rising
Descendants of the Guardians.
The Stream
The torrent of energy that borders the Creative Realm. A thick band of sapphire blue, this energy cannot be tamed and will absorb any Covalent who touches it. The immortal Covalent sometimes return here when they are weary of life. They call this “meeting the Stream.”
Axial Rift
Ruptures in the fabric of existence that appear in the Earthly Realm at a solstice or an equinox, when the planet’s orbit causes its axis to shift relative to the sun. The shift stretches and twists the dimensional fabric to create a network of fissures that enclose the Earth like the branches of a tree.