by Downs Jana
Gently, they pushed him beneath the spray of the water wall. The warm water instantly relaxed his aching muscles. He tried to glance up and found himself almost face-to-face with a carved-out black raven with rubies for eyes, acting as a sort of hidden guardian from behind the waterfall. An instant bolt of energy singed Kal’s mind and slithered up his spine. Similar to the energy spike of the vampires, Kal clenched his teeth against the onslaught. Whatever was happening, Kal would not show weakness.
* * * *
The brothers instructed Kal to stare into the eyes of Judgment. They’d divulged that it was an enchanted statue, and the spirit who possessed it was a discerning soul that aided the Ravyns by judging the worth of men’s hearts. His body and soul had to be a worthy vessel for the loyalty they offered. They must’ve seen the slight tremor take Kal’s body because they each provided an arm for him to grab hold of through the spray. “Easy, little brother,” Anthony murmured soothingly, his voice quiet yet understandable under the noise of running water. “We don’t want you to accidently hurt yourself.” Kal trembled with latent power, and the brothers exchanged a look of pride. In unison they turned their gazes toward the now-naked Prince. Salvatore nodded.
“It is time.”
“Time for what?” Kal demanded.
Identical sets of golden eyes lowered in submissiveness to the Prince.
“Hope this is over quickly.” Allasandro muttered under his breath.
“Me too.” Druas agreed with a shudder that said that he knew what Kal was fixing to go through and thought the whole thing unpleasant. Salvatore was the first through the water to stand in front of Kal. Kal looked away from him, trying to distance himself from the strange things that were happening inside him. In the reflection of the pool he caught a glance of his own reflection and gasped. The bright emerald of his irises fought with the force of gold that was attempting to rise within his gaze.
“Relax, my Ravyn,” Salvatore commanded.
“What’s happening?” Kal demanded, trying to shake off Salvatore’s hand from his shoulder. He couldn’t think with the demon Prince touching him. He had to make whatever they were doing to him stop. He realized miserably what a mistake this had been.
He felt his memories slipping away like the sand against the ocean’s waves, and he began to forget things. Important things. Like his name. What was his name?
“No!” he barked, more to himself than the others. He was terrified as the shifting memories started to fade faster. He clutched to the memories tightly.
Flash. Maddeline in her favorite purple tube top taking him to his first dance class the midnight of his eighth birthday.
Flash. Damian holding him, soothing away his sick hiccups from a nightmare about the fire that had killed his parents.
Flash. Santiago’s guitar playing late into the night while Kal danced and sang to the music. The intensity of Alex’s gaze on his back as he swayed to the music.
Flash. The play Alex had written, The Embrace, it was called. Their own passionate embrace on the stage the night he’d lost his virginity. Flash.
All of them slipped away from him before he could remind himself to remember them. He started to scream. He wouldn’t forget! he commanded himself. Couldn’t. He was desperately trying to back away from the spray of water and the statute’s ruby eyes. Other hands clutched his limbs, and in his confusion he didn’t know why. They whispered to him, trying to soothe him with sweet words about the transition. He screamed again. Nothing remained of his memories except for the ice blue of Alex’s beautiful eyes. The name faded. Whose eyes? he thought in a panic, knowing he was losing something but unable to recall what it was. Whose eyes? he cried in his mind, unaware that he’d spoken them aloud.
The hands stroked him now with more urgency, trying to make him calm. He bellowed like a bull. “Whose eyes? God damn it! Whose eyes?”
At last he felt those too fade, and the last memory Kal possessed was an impression of a sweet kiss and the whispered words of, “I will love you for all eternity.”
Chapter Three
Salvatore sighed. The boy was obviously taking the transition harder than most initiates. Even when the last speck of green vanished from his eyes, they remained a dull shade of old gold instead of the almost metallic flare of his brothers.
“It is done, my lord Prince,” a disembodied voice whispered from the statue. “He is free of the memories that would distract him from duty.”
Kal relaxed into the embrace of the Ravyns. He was too exhausted to do anything else but rely on them to carry his weight. He leaned his head against Anthony’s much-larger chest, and the brothers continued to wash and rub his aching form. They sang to him in the demons’ tongue, a soothing melody comparable to a lullaby. They were especially tender with this newly born Ravyn who had fought so hard with Judgment. What past did he possess to make him want to hold on to it so tightly? If he hadn’t already been physically exhausted from the tournament, Salvatore had little doubt that Kal could’ve bested Judgment. Now that was a frightening thought.
“My Ravyns, who have you there?” Salvatore demanded formally, just had he had at all their initiations.
“Our brother, Dageus, returned to us at last,” they replied in unison.
“Does he remember his place?”
The men bowed, and Kal followed weakly.
“Good, and tell us, Dageus, what is the Ravyn?”
“A Ravyn is the law. Protector of our Royalty, the enforcer of his laws.”
“And what are the sacred principles all Ravyns must obey?” Salvatore demanded ruthlessly. Kal didn’t hesitate.
“A Ravyn must hold the four laws of brotherhood sacred.”
“And what are they?”
“Truth, to discern and to express, Loyalty to brothers and our charges, Faith in the actions of our brothers and the actions of ourselves, and Friendship for our brothers and companionship for our King.”
Salvatore nodded, quite pleased. “Very good, Dageus. Brothers, share the blood that binds you,” he commanded.
Immediately they formed a feeding circle, each offering up the wrist to his brother.
“I offer this blood to the veins of my brother,” Kal stated. The words were repeated back to him, and a bloodied wrist was offered in return. Kal winced as his own was pierced by Allasandro’s teeth. Salvatore sympathized. The first time they’d done a circle for exchange, he’d had Anthony’s teeth in his skin, and it had not felt pleasant. The unpleasantness would soon fade however. Kal took a tentative lick at the wound on Allasandro’s wrist and gasped. Salvatore smiled. It was heaven to taste, like hot chocolate on a cool day. Greedily, Kal sucked the offering, sipping his brother down into his soul. Salvatore felt the bond knit itself before them, and it was as if the last of the puzzle pieces was clicking into place.
Anthony called a halt to their frenzy with a growl. They all turned in unison to their Prince.
“We offer our Prince the blood of his people,” they said. Salvatore sipped from each one as they bowed before him.
Druas spoke. “Here we are, brothers, bound together for all eternity and always in each other’s care.”
Salvatore returned the bow before tactfully sliding out of the room so the Ravyns could welcome their brother home.
Chapter Four
The days flew by and, with the last of the brothers found, they returned to the wonderfully content lives that they had lived in the past. Specific memories were not forthcoming to Dageus. Whoever he’d been before the transition seemed like an unimportant and distant concern. He was Dageus now. His difficulty with Judgment was a strange but perfectly reasonable aspect of transition. Luckily, the duties and moralities of the Ravyns came as easily as breathing. They often spoke of the oddity in hushed tones as they guarded their sleeping Prince.
“So who do you think you were in the past?” Allasandro asked one day as the sun reached the peak of its travel across the sky.
At high noon the guard typically shifted, a
nd Anthony and Druas took over, but on this particular day Anthony had decided that both Druas and Germany were in need of some more training after a failed assassination attempt the night before that had left them all scrambling to protect their Prince and resulted in injuries on all sides. Tony, as Anthony preferred to be called, was hard on them, but he was even harder on himself. The two training sessions he had scheduled would kill him, too.
In the few short months, the dedication that Tony put into training the Ravyns showed in the transformation of Dageus’s once-lean body. He had packed on twenty pounds of lean muscle. Dageus grimaced at the memory. It hadn’t been easy. Running until he threw up never felt good, and the constant clang of the weight room had given him a migraine for days.
“Why do you ask, Ally-cat?” he replied, invoking an old nickname the brothers had given Allasandro for his…nefarious activities... and the way they found out about them. It was one memory that had somehow risen to the surface after a few days of guard duty with the other male. Why that one had managed to worm its way in when so many others didn’t was anyone’s guess. Dageus shuddered at the mental pictures of Allasandro’s bare ass on their kitchen table. Allasandro grinned, reading his mind.
“Just because I’m curious.” He tried to shrug it off.
Dageus’s eyes narrowed.
“I sometimes wonder why we have to forget when we dedicate ourselves to the order.” Allasandro had a dreamy expression on his face as he spoke. Dageus cast him a worried glance. Allasandro was the only Ravyn that ever played the what-if game. The others realized during transition that everything came secondary to their duty to care for the Prince. The whys of it all were truly unimportant. But, that was Ally-Cat’s personality. He was trouble with a capital T. The way that Dageus reasoned it was simple. If it was something important Salvatore wouldn’t let them forget it.
“It is our duty to forget all things that may distract us from the protection of our Prince. You know that,” Dageus offered. Allasandro sighed.
“I know, I know but I bet you were curious of the circumstances that led you to fight your way into the Danse,” He countered, referencing the battle to the death among fifty other competitors.
Dageus grinned. “You have me there.”
Salvatore shifted in his sleep, drawing their attention to the most important thing in their lives.
“It’s worth it to forget,” Allasandro decided, smoothing the wild strand of red hair out of their Prince’s face. Dageus agreed, feeling his heart swell with affection for Salvatore. “One day he’ll lead the demon realm to a revolution. Once Desmond kicks it, we’ll all be free of this burden of reincarnation.”
Dageus snorted at Ally’s conviction.
“Desmond sends assassins almost daily now, Ally-cat. Desmond has been in power for almost two thousand years. If one of us doesn’t kill him, it’ll never happen, and we can’t afford to leave Salvatore’s side for a second because of his psychotic cousin’s assassins.”
Dageus knew that Allasandro felt the frustration his words conveyed. They all did. Two thousand years. Hundreds of reincarnations. Hundreds of lifetimes spent living on the edge of panic between protection and aggression, paranoia and justifiable cautiousness.
“One day we’ll be free. I promise,” Allasandro offered weakly.
Dageus sighed, unsure how anyone could promise such a thing.
Chapter Five
Click, clang, clang! Swords met and sparked in the near blackness of the training arena. Swoosh, clang! A blow was missed and parried.
“Oof!” Dageus gasped as the wooden pole of a kendo stick collided with his midsection. The breath left his lungs in a flash, dropping him to his knees.
“Lights!” Tony barked. Dageus was momentarily blinded as the arena suddenly blazed under white lights. Tony’s furious countenance greeted his stunned gaze. “What the hell are you doing, tunneling in like that? You quit paying attention to everyone else except for Germany, who was in front of you.”
Dageus could offer no explanation out loud. He wasn’t about to admit that there in the dark, with danger all around, he was replaying the dream he’d had the night before. Even now, with Tony’s patronizing voice growling at him, he was throbbing with desire.
A lover was above him, his blue eyes piercing his very soul.
“Oh, sweet God,” the lover purred, licking the side of his neck.
“You’re beautiful,” he replied, tracing his pointer finger along his lover’s strong jaw. Dageus almost whimpered as his love grinned at his admission.
“Tell me what you desire,” his love demanded.
Dageus blushed, and even in the dim light, he knew his lover could see the pink stain of his cheeks. He swallowed and gathered his courage.
“Touch me,” Dageus demanded breathlessly. “Feed from me. Love me.”
His lover chuckled, his blue eyes sparkling. “As my darling commands.”
“Are you even paying attention?” Tony barked, snapping him out of the fantasy. Dageus struggled to remember the thread of the conversation. “Get up, Ravyn. Get up and run. Repeat the creed as you do. Remember why you’re a Ravyn and why you serve our lord.”
“Come on, Anthony! Give me a break!” Dageus began.
Tony’s eyes snapped hell fire. “Are you questioning me, Dageus?” Dageus sighed and pushed himself to his feet.
“I serve demon Royalty. I am the vessel of his will. I believe in the sacred principles of brotherhood. The everlasting devotion we share. Blood of our blood, unto eternity…” Dageus had the feeling he’d be at this for a while.
Chapter Six
Salvatore sat on his throne and reviewed his accounts with barely concealed disgust. His cousin Desmond had been very busy. He noted the warriors’ reports especially. According to these accounts, over fifteen thousand demons had been murdered, and four new portals to the human realm had been opened. Fifty thousand humans had been enslaved by the King, two hundred Shifters, with only a hundred survivors, and twelve vampires but only five survivors. Vampires seemed to be the hardest to both capture and keep alive. Salvatore sighed.
His father before him had fought hard to establish a semblance of order among the demons that didn’t involve violence. He’d ruled fairly and justly. The once-unruly demons had begun to act almost civilized. He smiled at the thought. Almost. There was still a violent undertone to everything they did, but at least with a High King they contained themselves with the threat of punishment above their heads. Desmond was setting them back thousands of years. Salvatore rubbed the bridge of his nose thoughtfully.
He saw the concerned look pass between his Ravyns. He wagered that his father had not counted on two thousand years of Desmond’s reign when he’d asked Judgment to bind the five best warriors in Demontia into Salvatore’s service until he took the throne. He’d never counted on Desmond taking over before his six months transition period was over.
“My lord,” Sage said. She was one of the loyal foot soldiers at Salvatore’s disposal who ran the daily affairs of the household. Along with the four concubines, she was one of the last of a once-vast household.
“What is it, Lady Sage?” Tony asked, coming out of the shadows of the throne and taking a subtle position slightly in front of Salvatore.
“You have a messenger from the castle awaiting an audience with you my lord,” she stated, addressing her message to Salvatore. He nodded immediately. He had been expecting his spy to return for some time now.
“Show her in, Sage.”
She bowed her way out of the room.
“I thought the spy was supposed to arrive last week,” Germany complained uneasily.
“As did I,” Tony commented. Salvatore shrugged and faced his bodyguards.
“There will always be delays in espionage. You needn’t be so paranoid, boys.”
His Ravyns exchanged a look. “Now, now, none of that. If you have something to say, say it out loud.”
Tony shifted uneasily.
“We’
d like to confront the spy first my lord. Just to be sure that he is sincere in his audience with you,” Dageus provided, saving Tony from the answer.
The Dragon Prince’s eyes narrowed.
“Do you think me incapable to judge for myself?” He posed the question with venom in his voice.
Dageus sighed. Salvatore’s tone provided no room for argument.
“Are you ready my lord?” Sage called from the doorway. All the Ravyns tensed as the door swung outward to reveal his majesty’s spy. Salvatore chuckled at the surprised expressions of his Ravyns. A petite blonde woman stood in the doorway wearing a long white dress that clung to her delicious curves like a second skin. Wow. They thought as one, which only made Salvatore laugh harder as he caught the exchanged thought. In most things they were in perfect agreement.
Her green eyes danced with warmth, but the cold gush of power that ran off her skin caused them to shiver. Dageus’s eyes narrowed as he sniffed the air and caught her scent. Even Salvatore could smell that she reeked of Desmond. His sex clung to her skin like a bad cologne. He took a menacing step forward to halt her progress into the room. She met his eyes, and a flare of recognition lit her senses.
“Can it be?” she asked aloud. “Is that Padma’s little Kalel all grown up into a Ravyn?” Her voice was cold and condescending. “Tell me, Salvatore, when did you start making it a habit to find your Ravyns in whorehouses?”
Salvatore’s eyes narrowed. “Whorehouses? Why not, my dearest Angelina? That’s where I find my spies.”
Her eyes flashed fire. “How dare you!” she screeched, her thin white fists clenched in fury.
Tony and Druas tightened their circle of protection. The tiny woman couldn’t cause much damage, but just the same, they made Salvatore a smaller target.