Love, Blood, and Sanctuary

by Brenda Murphy

  An Indonesian kris lay near to the puzzle box. The iridescent irregular wavy edge of its blade glowed with dark magic. The handle was the carved body of a demon with blood-red rubies for eyes. Laurel avoided the blade when she moved the book closer to examine it.

  The pages were yellowed, the edges of the journal deckled from where the paper was worn. A series of drawings of hieroglyphs filled the page set mirrored by translations written in careful printing in Latin and then English. Laurel parsed the words as she read the spell to give the deceased the ability to breathe and have power over their enemies.

  Laurel struggled to read the words and directions for conducting the ceremony. Carefully she lifted the book, keeping her place with her finger. The cracked brown leather cover offered no clues. She opened to the flyleaf. Copperplate calligraphy filled the page. Unable to read most of the words, Laurel’s eyes were drawn to “Aikaterina” signed in gold at the bottom of the page. She traced her hand over the letters and an image of Catherine rose in her mind.

  She turned the next few pages, filled with charts of stars and notes. Catherine’s journal, her grimoire if what Laurel had seen so far was an indication. A private place for her to collect and parse her thoughts and experiences with controlling energies and forces of the world. A smattering of guilt splashed over her before she shoved it aside and went back to reading the book.

  Careful drawings of plants and hieroglyphs, petroglyphs, and neat lists covered the pages. A map covered two pages. Laurel gazed at the rich colors and intricate drawings of beasts she had read about but never seen rendered so exquisitely.

  Laurel opened the book to where it had been, smoothing her fingers over the brittle page. She bent over the low desk and read the enchantment again, taking time to match the drawings with the words. A dull throb in her neck blossomed. Laurel glanced at the floor. Dusty and flyspecked and she had no intention of sitting on it. Under the desk a cobweb-covered slatted wooden crate rested on its side. She got down on her knees, hooked her finger under the edge of the box, and pulled it forward.

  Laurel perched on the edge of the box and read the words again out loud, more confident of her translation. She rested her hand on the top of the puzzle box. A pleasant stream of energy flowed from the box as Laurel fiddled with the pattern, pressing different points on the mosaic. She fought a yawn. The heat of the attic and the buzz of the box lulled her as she studied the charm.

  A sting and then a searing sensation shot up her arm. The rippling fire traveled across her palm and up her arm. Laurel snatched her hand away from the box. A silver blade, razor thin, protruded from the edge of the chest. Cold dread prickled her skin. She lifted her hand. The slash extended lengthwise from the center of her palm to her wrist. It gaped open, edges white, before blood welled and then pulsed. Bright-red jets spilled across the book, saturating the pages, before it dripped onto the floor and sizzled where it soaked into the boards.

  Her blood bloomed, flowed freely as it spurted and dripped from her arm. The pages of the book swam in her vision, the drawings and words becoming one. Dizzy, mouth dry, her power flashed and ebbed through her. Laurel clutched the edge of the desk. It shifted on the boxes and crashed to the floor.

  Laurel fell to her knees, yanked her T-shirt over her head, and wrapped her hand and wrist with it, applying pressure. Fear blossomed in her chest as her blood soaked through the fabric. She panted as she curled her legs into her body. She would die, here, alone, victim of her own stupidity and curiosity.

  Anger swirled through her as she replayed her brief life in her head. This was not how she wanted to leave this coil. Not this way. Alone. Never having been loved, truly loved for who she was.

  Summoning what was left of her power, Laurel reached out with her mind, a frantic call to Nadia. She lay back and closed her eyes, unable to focus as her life drained away. Will Nadia find me? Will she be able to walk through the wards? Will I be alive? Or mostly dead? Her teeth chattered and she clenched her jaw to stop the clack of her teeth. The cloying smell of death filled the attic. A white film of frost grew and covered the room, edging closer to Laurel. Her head throbbed and she closed her eyes against the pain.

  A blaze of white light illuminated the space and swept away the cold. The acrid scent of pitch and cedar resin rose and swept away the sweet smell of death. Laurel forced her eyes open and squinted to focus.

  Catherine stood over her. Jet-black hair in intricate braids framed her face, eyes dark with kohl, her lips parted, fangs gleaming white in a blood-red snarl. “Fool. Why? There are safe ways to do this. You didn’t have to butcher yourself.”

  She kneeled and clasped Laurel’s wounded hand. After wrenching the T-shirt from her arm, she tossed it aside. Catherine pressed her lips to Laurel’s wrist. She lapped at the blood there and drew her tongue along the cut. Laurel cried out with the connection. The cut sealed shut. Catherine’s energy teemed in Laurel’s body, a reprieve from death.

  Catherine cupped her chin and looked into Laurel’s eyes. “If you don’t want this, say so now. I’ll leave you and let you be. Call Nadia for you.”

  “No.” Laurel lifted her gore-stained hand, clasped Catherine’s shoulder, and tugged her close. “Please. I want this. Bind me. To you.”

  “Even in death?”

  “Yes.” Laurel grabbed the front of Catherine’s shirt. The fabric gave way, buttons flew and pinged off the rafters.

  Catherine pulled free from Laurel’s grasp and tugged her shirt off. She took the bronze dagger in her hand, slid it across her breast, and opened a wound. She leaned over Laurel, cupped the back of her head, and held her to the cut.

  Hot liquid flowed into Laurel’s mouth, bitter at first and then becoming sweet on her tongue. Like honeyed wine it filled her mouth. Her body twitched. She groaned as a burning fire exploded in her stomach. She broke free from Catherine’s grasp. White and red light surrounded them, swirled between them. Laurel had the sensation of falling. She reached for Catherine’s hand.

  “What is this?” She clutched her hand to her chest.

  “Death. And life, of a sort. If you choose.” She pressed her other hand over Laurel’s heart.

  The thudding of Laurel’s heartbeat was loud in her ears as it slowed. Laurel closed her eyes and focused on the sound as it stuttered and skipped.

  “I’ve done what I can do. You must choose now. For yourself. Not for me. Choose life because you want your soul to live. But know this. We will be bound. For eternity. This life and the next, if there is another world after this.” Catherine’s voice wrapped around her.

  Laurel looked over the edge of the abyss that formed in her mind. “If I fall?”

  “Then we are bound. Your fate is my fate.”

  Laurel squinted. “You’re already dead, are you not?”

  “Mostly dead.”

  “What happened in the living room when you left me? Why did you leave? I thought I had destroyed you.”

  Catherine cupped her cheek. “I left because you didn’t want me to be there.”

  A green vine with bright-silver thorns grew up from the blood-red soil surrounding the abyss. The desire to climb the vine, to suffer the delicious pain of its thorns as it led her to the peaceful oblivion of death, called to her. Laurel touched a finger to the thick green vine, pricked her fingertip on a thorn, and savored the burning pain. “What will become of you if I go?”

  Catherine pursed her lips. “Nothing. I will continue. As I am. On this plane. Until the house no longer stands.”

  “Unless another comes. Someone else like me.”

  “No. You are unique.”

  Laurel frowned. “Because?”

  “Your blood is unique. Human and supernatural, a powerful combination. Most human and super children don’t live long after birth. Under the proper circumstances your blood could raise legions of followers.”

  “Is it why you seduced me?”

  “No. You would have interested me no matter what. I didn’t want this. For you to have to c
hoose me or oblivion.”

  Laurel closed her eyes. “It’s not a hard choice.”

  Catherine placed her hand over Laurel’s heart. “You don’t have much time left in this body. You must choose.”

  Laurel closed her eyes, opened her arms wide, and tumbled over the dark edge into the world beyond.

  *

  The connection between them ebbed and flowed as Laurel waffled with her decision. Catherine waited, holding herself in check, unwilling to force her desires on Laurel. The verse was very clear. Free will and only free will would forge the bond. She wanted, oh how she wanted. Fear. Desire. Longing. And woven through all of it the barest hint of love. Catherine could grow to love Laurel.

  Catherine focused her energy as she peered at Laurel’s face. The heartbeat under her hand slowed and then stilled. Catherine reached out and pushed aside the thick shock of black hair that covered Laurel’s forehead. Laurel’s grip on Catherine’s arm relaxed and her face went slack. Her mouth fell open in a last soft gasp.

  The weight of her choice fell heavy over Catherine’s shoulders. Searing pain wrenched a cry from her as the skin and bone of her chest split wide. Large hooks of silver pulled her flesh apart, exposing her heart. Purple light shone from her center, spilling over Laurel.

  Laurel’s body vibrated as the light swirled around and through her, entering her nose, her mouth, her ears. Laurel’s eyes grew wide, her mouth a silent scream as the light split her chest open from the inside. The silver hooks dug deeper into Catherine’s flesh as the energy bathed Laurel’s heart. Catherine cried out when the vines tightened, pulling them face to face, heart to heart. Focusing on the words she had practiced so many times, Catherine spoke the charm that would bind them for eternity.

  The room brightened as the purple energy surged and swelled around them. Laurel gazed into Catherine’s eyes. Salvation, and recognition, as the resurrection took hold. The light faded and their wounds closed. True flesh knit around Catherine’s bones. She swore and screeched as her bones and sinews formed and grew strong. She screamed long and loud as air filled her lungs.

  Laurel’s arms wrapped around her, holding her close, her breath coming in small puffs against Catherine’s cheek. “Thank you.” Her voice was rich, deep, and strong.

  “You might want to wait to thank me.” Catherine wiped her thumb over Laurel’s cheek.

  “You saved me.”

  “No. I gave you a choice. You saved yourself.”

  Laurel shifted under her. “I like how you feel over me.”

  Catherine sighed and leaned her brow again Laurel’s head. “One-track mind.”

  “When it comes to you, yes. I’ve never had anyone I’ve connected with so easily.” She looked away from Catherine.

  “There have been others. You are not innocent, Laurel.”

  Laurel brought her gaze back to Catherine’s face. “I’ve never had anyone who didn’t treat it as joke or tease me about it. So many don’t understand it. You are perfect for me.”

  Catherine hugged her closer. “As romantic as it is to lie in a drying sticky puddle of your blood, hearing how devoted you are to me, why don’t we get cleaned up and continue this discussion elsewhere? Besides, I believe your would-be rescuer is on her way here.”

  “Nadia.”

  “Indeed. It seems she got your message after all.”

  A crooked grin spread across Laurel’s face. “Timing is everything.”

  “You need to come up with a story that will satisfy her.”

  “Not the truth?”

  “Your metamorphosis and binding to me are not what anyone had planned for you. Nadia is loyal to your great-uncle.”

  “She bound herself to me.”

  “No. You held your true self in reserve. You don’t trust her. Not the way a super is supposed to trust their centurion. Your bond with her is smoke and mirrors.”

  Laurel pursed her lips. “True.”

  Catherine rose and stood over Laurel. She extended her hand. “Come, we need to make you presentable.”

  Laurel gestured to the floor. “What about this?”

  Catherine shrugged. “What about it? No one will be able to cross my wards.”

  “I was able to.”

  “Nadia is not you. Nor is anyone else. Come. We don’t have much time.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Laurel yipped as the cold water splashed over her skin. Blood and pink-tinged foam washed down the drain. The water warmed and she relaxed into the spray.

  “Don’t take too long, darling, unless you want Nadia to find you naked.”

  Laurel snorted. “She’d just turn away and hide her eyes. She’s ridiculous.”

  “And you’ve never tried to bring her out of her shell?” Catherine’s mocking tone made Laurel grimace.

  “No. Well, other than letting her mindfuck me on the sidewalk.”

  “I wondered the day you moved in. I thought you were mated, or you wanted to be.”

  Laurel twisted the taps closed and pushed back the shower curtain. “I didn’t. Not really but I knew she’d report to my uncle if I refused. And then who knows what kind of protection he would have sent me. At least he doesn’t try to force me to accept one of the male guardians anymore.”

  Catherine frowned. “Force you? That hardly sounds like a caring relative.”

  “He only wants to keep me safe.”

  “From what?”

  “The Orions.”

  “I’d ask you to explain but Nadia is at the door.”

  A loud hammering shattered the peace of the house, followed by the rasp of the lock turning and the sound of the door slamming open.

  “Laurel!” Nadia’s bellow shook the walls.

  Catherine wrapped a towel around Laurel’s shoulders. “You’re on.” She gestured to the faint pink stains in the tub. “I’ll take care of this.”

  Laurel chewed her lip. “Won’t she be able to tell?” She glanced at herself in the mirror.

  “Do you look different to you?”

  “No.”

  “As long as you choose to hold this shape, you’ll be fine. You hid your true power before. Do it again.”

  The doorknob to the bathroom twisted violently. “Laurel?”

  Laurel opened the door a crack. “Nadia? What’s wrong?”

  Nadia’s eyes flared red. “What’s wrong! For Asmodeus’s sake! You called me, told me you were dying.”

  Laurel slipped out of the bathroom door and closed it behind her. “No need to swear. Do I look dead to you?”

  Nadia blew out a breath. “What happened? I didn’t imagine your call.”

  Laurel reached out and placed her fingertips on Nadia’s cheek. “I’m fine. I must have been dreaming.” She let the towel slip a bit, exposing the curve of her breast.

  Nadia stepped back and rested her hands on her hips. “Don’t try to distract me. I know you don’t care for me like that.”

  Laurel snatched the towel tighter around her body. “Fine. I don’t…I don’t need you busting into my house demanding answers when I owe you none.”

  Nadia stepped back as if struck and lowered her head to her chest. “Right. I am only to serve.”

  Laurel huffed out a breath. “Stop that. I’m sorry, it must have been a nightmare. I had a rough night at work, and then I had horrible dreams. I can’t always control my thoughts.”

  Nadia crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re lying. You’ve been lying to me. Why don’t you trust me?”

  Laurel squared her shoulders and flexed her power. “Because you report to Marcus, first and foremost, despite your promises to me. You are bound to him. I know it. You know it. So cut the wounded would-be lover bullshit.”

  Nadia’s mouth twisted into the cruel parody of a smile. “You’re right.” The skin around her mouth grew taut and her lips pulled into a sneer exposing her stark white teeth. “I wouldn’t look twice at you on the street, but your great-uncle feels you need minding. I tried to tell him he was wasting his time. You
are nothing. You will be nothing. A waste of space. A drag and smear on the family name.” Her eyes glowed fiery red. “He has given me permission to do what I think is necessary to make you comply with his plans.” Her body twisted and morphed. Her suit fell in tatters as she transformed. Her muscular body filled the hallway, her hair a crown of flames framing her head. The stench of sulfur burnt Laurel’s nose. “You waste my time, child.” Voice full of brimstone, Nadia wrapped her hand around Laurel’s throat. Her sharp claws dug into her skin. “No more playing.”

  Laurel inhaled and closed her eyes. Her skin burst into purple flames. The demon howled and fell back on her haunches. Eyes wide, she scrabbled away from Laurel.

  “How? You’ve bonded to her? What have you done? You don’t know. She’s not to be trusted,” Nadia screeched.

  *

  The bathroom door swung wide, and Catherine stepped through it. She moved behind Laurel and wrapped her hand around her waist, impervious to her flames. “Funny. I’m not the one who swore falsely and tried to kill my bonded charge. Isn’t there a special punishment for centurions who break their vows?”

  Nadia rose to her feet. Her claws flexed open and closed at her side. “Laurel. Listen to me. There is still time. We can undo this.”

  Laurel held tight to Catherine’s hand. “No. I will not be bred like a cow.”

  Nadia inched closer, her hands palm up. “You would cosign your family to oblivion? And all of the centurions who have worked for you for years?”

  Laurel firmed her chin. “Yes. If that’s what it takes for you to leave me alone. I will not be forced to bear children or be what Marcus and the rest of those ghouls want me to be. And it’s too late.” She dropped her guise of flesh and stood clothed in her new form. Her shimmering skin, a gossamer veil over her energy, lit the hallway.

  Nadia fell to the floor and curled into a ball, her head in her hands. She shuddered as she returned to her human form. “Finish me. I can’t return to Marcus. Be merciful, please. Release me into the unknown. I can’t face his torture and punishment.”