by Terri Lane
***
AURORA:
Samara’s coven had all gone to ground. All but one, at least. Morton Bingle, proprietor of one of the city’s most run-down herb supply shops. I waited across the street from Bingle’s shop. The building had once been a fancy brownstone, but it had fallen in to disrepair. The shutters were painted a Prussian blue color, and they were tilted at odd angles. The windows were dirty, and the paint on the front door was peeling. The cement steps leading up to the entrance had large cracks in them. Ivy covered most of the building, slowly creeping its way into the structure, adding more cracks to the exterior. Even from the alley across the street, it reeked of magic.
The one good thing about being a demon is that you don’t need to obtain magic. You just have it already. The sharp scent made me feel nauseous. In the street, a young mother walked by, pushing her child in a stroller. I sniffed deeply, inhaling the sweet scent of the child’s flesh. I ran my tongue hungrily over my sharp front teeth. I closed my eyes as my stomach growled insistently, and I hissed in frustration. If I abandoned my post, I would miss my opportunity to take another who could lead me to Samara. The high demon was losing patience. I needed him happy. I needed him to take his rightful place, ruling the masses so that I could feast on fresh flesh.
I remained in the shadows of the alley, watching people pass by. Eventually, the crowds began to thin. The sun sank beneath the far buildings, which scraped the graying sky like broken teeth. The lights in the shop went out. It was time to capture my prey. I waited for him to exit the shop.
The door opened, and a thin bent figure came through it. Bingle was wizened, with leathery skin and long, graying dreadlocks. He wore a trench coat to protect him from the elements. I let myself disappear, reappearing across the street—to find myself blocked. Hissing, I beat my fists against the barrier. The barrier felt cold, soft. I had the sensation of hands grasping me. And then it was gone. The small witch man was gone and the street was entirely empty, except for me.
What was that? I wondered. It some force that I had never before in my eight hundred years encountered. I stood in the empty street, looking about me. I had the strange feeling of being watched. I hated it. Growling in frustration, I disappeared.
***
SAMARA:
Ben and I were working companionably in the library, reading through the books that contained lists of demons and how to identify them. We were trying to find one who matched Lex’s description. The problem was, the demon population of the world was a pretty sizable demographic. Also, Lex had been extremely talented at keeping his true nature hidden. I sighed, gently turning the page of an ancient compendium. It was bound in old leather, and the pages were made of a thick vellum. The manuscript had been written and illuminated by hand. Ben had given me a pair of tiny white cotton gloves to wear while handling the book.
“How old is this manuscript?” I asked him. He was leaning back in his chair, another book in his hands, which were covered in similar white cotton gloves.
“That was made somewhere around 1300,” he replied.
“Wow,” I replied. “How long have you had it?” He squinted and smiled sadly.
“Since the monk who made it finished it,” he said.
“Friend of yours?”
“You could say that.” He sighed deeply. “He wanted me to have protection. Thaddeus was a man plagued by demons.”
“It’s why you grow so much sage,” I guessed. He nodded and looked at me archly.
“It’s why I don’t typically mess with demon-kind.”
“What happened to him?” I said. He looked pained in response to my question.
“The demons took him,” he explained. “He never returned.” Aiden’s heavy, confident steps entered the room. We both looked up. His face was alight with excitement.
“Well, kids, I’m off,” Aiden announced. He wiped his hands together with a clap.
“Where are you going?” I asked him.
“I’ve a date with a certain lady of solid gold,” he remarked. “I heard from a delightful little bird that my artifact may be entombed with a Catholic missionary of all places.”
“A little bird?” I asked.
“I have a friend who works in the Black Market,” Aiden explained. “She lets me know when she hears a tip, and I return the favor by bringing her things that she can sell for about three times their worth.” At the mention of a “she” my heart sank a little.
“Good luck,” I said. Ben stood and walked over to him. They slapped a high five.
“Go get her, man,” Ben said.
“Be back soon!” Aiden promised gleefully. He turned and left. We heard a door open and slam closed down the hallway.
I glanced out through the mullioned window. A large dragon was taking flight. I was surprised at the quickness of the change from man to beast. As a dragon, Aiden was massive, with bright golden scales that caught the late afternoon sun. His massive wings were opened, like lace on the spokes of an opened umbrella. The power, the strength, the contours of his muscles and the play of light on his scales made the sight absolutely breathtaking.
“He’s rather vain about his looks,” Ben commented. I looked over at him and smiled.
“Not surprising. Is that what you look like?”
“Not quite,” Ben smiled at me crookedly as he sat back down beside me. “I’m a Green. I have a little bit of a different body structure than that of the Gold.”
“Mm-hmm,” I replied noncommittally.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” Ben asked, standing again and stretching. I nodded.
“Yes, please. What we had last night was delicious.” He nodded.
“Aiden got it about two centuries ago,” Ben mused. “From some defunct noble in France.” I raised my eyebrows, impressed.
He returned with a bottle and two glasses, pouring me a generous helping. The wine was a deep, almost blood red. Unlike blood, it was clear. The cut-crystal that held it made it look like a precious stone.
“Thank you,” I said, accepting the wineglass from him. I took a sip. My mouth was flooded with the warm, sweet taste of the red wine. Ben sat down beside me with his own.
“So? Have you found anything yet?” he asked hopefully. I sighed and shook my head.
“I’ve gone through all of the lesser demons,” I said with a shrug. “None match Lex’s description, so I’m thinking that maybe he’s one of the major demons and was just able to hide his true nature really well. The descriptions of the major demons are super ugly, though. I don’t know if I’d recognize him.”
“For example?” he asked, sipping his wine. I pulled the book that sat on the table closer to me and read.
“Azazriel. One of the High Demons. Dark-skinned with red eyes and long fangs. Azazriel is covered with excessive scarring from his love of flame. He often breathes it forth. His preferred method of feeding is by burning his victims alive and then eating the ashes.”
“Sounds lovely,” Ben said sarcastically. He sighed. I shook my head in exhaustion.
“I only ever saw him in human form,” I explained. “His eyes would sometimes glow red, but that’s as far as he ever went.”
“Then I would definitely say that he is a major demon,” Ben said. “He wouldn’t have been able to hide it so well otherwise.” I sighed deeply and pushed the book away from me.
“I need a break,” I said. I picked up my wineglass and drank deeply. I looked over at Ben, who was studying me closely. “What’s your story, Ben?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise, then looked away from me and took a sip of his wine.
“Well, I was born, approximately, 1235 CE,” he began hesitantly, as if he didn’t talk about his past much. My eyebrows shot skyward.
“Really? You don’t seem that old.”
“Dragon shifters age slowly,” he explained in a soft voice. “We are children for far longer than a human.” I nodded.
“How old is Aiden?”
“He was born around 25 CE,” Ben
said. “He lived in Rome for a while.”
“Wow.” He laughed at my surprised look.
“Anyway,” he went on, “I grew up with my mother in a small cottage in the woods. It was very quiet, peaceful. This was somewhere around what is now Surrey.”
“You don’t have an accent,” I commented.
“I haven’t lived in England in a very long time,” he replied simply. “My mother was killed by dragon hunters in the 1400’s.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “That must have been hard.” He nodded. “What about your father?”
“We hid from him. He beat her while she was pregnant with me. Some dragons are…rather violent. It’s in our genetic makeup, I suppose. I met him once.” His eyes were far away, a slightly pained look in them. He took a large gulp of wine. “Anyway, I was alone for a long time. I stayed in the woods and grew things. I was a healer for the local villagers. It was quiet.” I placed a comforting hand on his arm.
“You don’t seem violent to me,” I said gently.
“I try.” He shrugged. “You haven’t seen me get angry.”
I laughed, thinking that it would be rather difficult to get the easy-going Ben ruffled.
“Anyway, Aiden found me,” he went on. “This was in the sixteenth century. My quiet life was disrupted entirely. He needed someone good with herbs. We went on adventures.”
I smiled.
“What did you do?”
“Ah, the usual—drinking, fighting, and wenching,” he winked at me, and I laughed. “We collected treasures beyond anything that I could have imagined in my solitary life.” He nodded slowly, musing.
“What was your favorite adventure?” I prompted.
He smiled and began to tell me. For the next few hours, he told me many tales of adventure and treasure. We finished off the bottle of wine and got another. Then another. I was feeling warm and fuzzy inside. I could feel myself leaning in closer to Ben as he told me about himself and Aiden. It was more than that, though—I was gravitating toward Ben, getting wrapped up within his orbit.
“And then, we ran,” Ben said expressively. “Aiden was having trouble shifting into his dragon because of the artifact—it was repellent to dragons somehow. We ended up destroying it, but in that moment, we just tore out of there. It was the strangest secret society I’ve ever encountered.” He shook his head. His cheeks were lightly flushed. He looked at me and smiled. I could feel my skin tingling and something warm rise within my chest. His smile faltered, and he leaned toward me.
Our lips collided, and I found myself kissing him back deeply. I got out of my chair in a fluid movement. He pulled me toward him, and I straddled his lap in the chair, brushing my hips against his. He exhaled, burying his fingers in my hair and pulling me in closer. Our kisses grew frantic, mouths open. I ran my tongue over his teeth, feeling the points of his elongated canines. I could feel him against my leg, growing hard. His hands were on my hips, then moving upward. His fingers brushed my skin beneath my shirt. With a jolt, I pulled away, gasping.
“I—I’m sorry,” I said, pulling away. Ben frowned, his eyes were sad. I was drunk, and after hearing all of the stories about the adventures that the two friends had shared over the centuries, how could I come between them? “I—Lex.”
“It’s okay,” Ben said softly. He placed a comforting hand on my cheek. “Take the time that you need.”
“Thank you,” I said, and promptly burst into heartrending, drunken tears. I had never been more conflicted in my life. I wanted him. I wanted him badly. But in the back of my mind, I was also thinking about how attracted I was to Aiden, as well. They were opposites—my desire for each of them pulling me in two different directions.
***
AURORA:
Hands. I had seen and felt hands pushing me away from the male witch, Morton Bingle, out in front of his shop. It did not take me long to figure that one out. It was Meroe. I had never encountered a ghost before. They usually stay away from demons as we tend to enjoy trapping them on the rare occasion that we can. Demons enjoy perverting the spirits of the Dead. I decided to set a trap for the little mouse.
I returned to the alleyway across from the shop, waiting for the male witch to come out. Meroe would protect him again, and then I could take her instead. I smiled to myself. It was not long before he exited. I could see her beside him. She was a silver wisp, barely visible.
I made my attack. The male witch screamed as I snarled. Meroe’s hands came up to block me, and I grabbed her. She froze, her eyes wide in shock.
“Hello, little mouse,” I said. “Let’s play, shall we?” I vanished, Meroe in tow. We re-appeared in Lex’s penthouse apartment. He was lounging back on his black leather couch, a tumbler of dark liquid in his hand. He cocked an eyebrow when he saw me, holding the ghostly hand of Meroe.
“Look what I caught, master,” I hissed. The ghost of Meroe struggled against my grasp. I looked at her. “You know that demons are not of the real world, little mouse, don’t you?” She looked at me, eyes wide in surprise. I grinned.
“She has probably been to see Samara,” Lex said, standing. Meroe continued to struggle against my hold. Lex’s face began to crumple as he let his human façade slip away. His true nature was suddenly before us. Meroe went slack in my grip. I gasped in awe at what I beheld.
Lex’s skin was rough, scarred. Sigils were carved into his flesh, making him more powerful. They glowed with a power all their own, feeding off of Lex’s life force. His mouth was nothing more than a violent slash in the skin of his face, and his teeth were all sharply pointed. His eyes were flame and darkness. His hair had vanished, leaving a scalp that was broken only by the sigils carved into it. Without warning, his long yellowed talons lashed out at the ghost witch. She screamed in pain as he hit her.
“TELL ME,” he rasped, his voice powerful. The ghost witch looked at him with wide terror-filled eyes, her jaw clamped shut. Facing a major demon, one whose powers were magnified, Meroe was in over her head. I laughed with glee.
***
SAMARA:
Several days had passed, and Ben and I had stepped around each other cautiously. I didn’t know what to say to him. I felt deeply guilty for leading him on. He said nothing about it, helping me to look through the books and offering me food. He was kind. It was his best trait by far.
I sat in the library, reading through a text with a list of the major demons. The one whose description I was reading, Vail, had a scent like sulfur. Nope. Move on to the next one. Lomak. I sighed and began to read.
“Hey kid.” I looked up to find Aiden looking in at me, a wide smile across his handsome face.
“Hey,” I replied. “How’d it go?” In response, he held up a tiny gold statue, the gleam of emeralds catching the light.
“Mine!” he stated triumphantly. I smiled.
“Congratulations! Have you figured out what it does yet?” He looked down at it, shaking his head.
“No. I’ll keep it around until I do, though.” He slid it into the back pocket of his jeans and walked into the library. He sat down in the chair across the table from me, placing his elbows on the table and cupping his chin in his hands. “Miss me, beautiful?”
“Oh, yes, very much,” I replied sarcastically. I had, in actuality, missed him very much, but I wasn’t about to inflate his ego any more than it already was. “Can I look at your lady?”
He pulled it out of his back pocket and handed it to me. For such a small thing, it was heavy. It was in the shape of a slender, beautiful woman, her hair caught in a breeze. A rope hung from her neck like a necklace, and she held a snake aloft in her hands, as though offering to the person in front of her. It fit in the palm of my hand. I could feel the power emanating from it. I frowned.
“This has great power,” I remarked, turning it over in my hand. Interested, Aiden cocked his head to the side quizzically.
“Can you tell what it does?” he asked hopefully.
“I can try,” I offered. I closed my eyes, b
eginning a chant of revealing. I kept it whispered, beneath my breath. I had the feeling that the relic should not be awoken. With my mage-sense, I could see a woman inside of the relic. She looked at me with dark sockets for eyes. I felt her intentions—they were dark. Her skin was brown, and weathered, like dried cornhusks. Her hair was jet black, but stringy and thinning. She looked starved. She was trying to tell me something—What? I asked her, and she seemed to growl, baring her blackened teeth. She spoke a different language, but I could sense she was speaking to me. Bring me a gift, Necromancer. I will keep it. She was asking for a sacrifice. I nodded. I understand, I told her, and then carefully backed away. I opened my eyes and looked at Aiden.
“It’s alive,” I told him. “She wants you to bring her a soul.” His eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“It’s a she?” his eyes were wide in surprise.
“Yes. She’s hungry.”
“She needs to be fed?”
“Yes. If you want her to remain happy,” I explained. “I don’t think she’s eaten in a while. She looks as though she is starving.” He nodded, eyes wide. I handed the relic back to him.
“Thank you,” he said, looking very overwhelmed. He sighed. “I hate when relics need things. It’s so much upkeep.”
“The scourge of the treasure hunter,” I replied. He smiled.
“I brought you something,” he said, leaning forward. My heart leapt at the same time as my conflicting feelings for Ben caused an ache.
“What is it?” I asked carefully. He leaned across the table, whispering in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. He smelled of spices and aftershave. My heart pounded wildly in lust.