They ranged in age from very young to elderly. She wondered how the Temple dealt with the children and old women.
She sat with her father at the table and started to eat her meal. The witches chattered around her. From bits and pieces of the conversations she heard, she could tell they were excited about their studies and their lives.
On the way in she’d seen technologies that she'd never witnessed before. There was a hover car parked outside. The lights above the dining room tables hovered in the air.
She hadn't seen a smartphone in two years, and now she was in a world where there was anti-gravity technology. She couldn't help but feel excited about the prospect of learning more about these things. She looked up at her father and he glanced at her over his half-finished meal.
"The food is good," he said. "And there's a lot of it."
"Yes there is. I should be well fed here."
"That’s good. Aren't you happy?"
"The best meal I've had in a long time. And maybe there are some interesting things here for me to learn. I just don't want to have to marry some man I never met before. It scares me."
"I don't think you need to be scared," her dad said.
She could tell he was trying to make her feel better, but it only made her feel worse. To know that she could be bought by a full belly and some interesting technology and beautiful clothes didn't make her feel good about herself. She should want to run away at the soonest possible moment. What they expected from her wasn't fair.
But she had to come to terms with her new reality and found the positive side in it somehow. She wasn't betraying herself by just trying to survive. It was okay to stay here, learn about her magic, and eat. Maybe she’d just escape later.
After breakfast, another priestess walked with them back down to the car. A little goblin-type man came down the stairs to greet them. Desdemona had heard that strange things were emerging from the shadows and deep caverns of the Earth since the Dark Sun, but seeing the little goblin in a tuxedo right in front of her made her heart almost stop.
"This is Benny, our Goudy Butler," the priestess said. "He'll take your bags to your room. I'm sure you will want to say your goodbyes now. Meet me in the hallway, and I will show you to your rooms and give you your instructions."
The priestess turned and started up the stairs, her blue flowing robes swaying around her ankles.
Desdemona turned to her father and knitted her brows together. Her dad enveloped her in his arms, and she let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. She then started to cry uncontrollably, her whole body shaking as he held her against the rough fabric of his canvas jacket.
"It's okay Desdemona, you’re going to be all right."
"I know, dad," she said. "You raised me to be strong. And I will be."
"We'll write to you. I've got to go now," he said, giving her one last hug.
He let her go and opened the car door, getting inside with a tight expression on his face. He looked back at her one last time and nodded. He then turned away to drive out the gate and disappear from her life forever.
Now she was left in this place with strangers. Part of her wanted to leave right then and there, to go down to the gate, ask to be let out, and walk away. But her bags were all up inside and that priestess was waiting in the hall. Desdemona turn on her heel and started up the stairs to the strange mansion, almost ready to start her new life.
Chapter 4
Desdemona joined the priestess in the grand hallway of the mansion. The strange little goblin creature named Benny had taken her things and disappeared into the mansion. Still irritated, Desdemona fidgeted and grasped her upper arm tightly.
“What now?” she asked the other woman.
The priestess had a mass of red hair that she wore wild around her shoulders. Her green eyes gleamed at Desdemona with hidden knowledge that made her at once frightened and curious.
“I assume Arch-Priestess Lucia gave you introductory instructions.”
“She told me a bunch of crap about why I should stay here,” Desdemona said.
“Well, my name is Bridget and I will be your tutor.”
“Tell me, Bridget, how many times have you been on the mating rotation?” Desdemona asked.
“My name hasn’t come up yet.”
“Really? And how long have you been here?”
“Two years, give or take.”
“Two years. And you haven’t been forced to take a husband yet?”
“I don’t think you fully understand how this process works. The witches of this temple are not without power. We cast powerful spells that ensure each woman is guaranteed her best match. Mine simply has not arrived yet.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it.”
“Let’s get you settled in. I’m sure you are tired from the road.”
Bridget started down the hall, her last words giving away her irritation with Desdemona’s questions. They took the elevator up to the third floor and started down another wide hallway with doors on each side. Women walked up and down the hall, mostly smiling, wearing those beautiful dresses they all had. Bridget stopped at a door at the end of the hallway and opened it.
“You’ll have your own room, since you’re new.”
“Great…”
They walked into the room, and Desdemona had to gasp in spite of herself. She’d been living in a building that basically amounted to a shack with wood heat and one standpipe for running water. This room was luxurious beyond belief. It was the kind of thing she only saw in TV shows about celebrities before the dark times.
There was a big bed with a fluffy comforter. A broad bank of windows looked out onto the forest grove behind the mansion. French doors opened onto a patio and a brick fireplace held a crackling fire that warmed the room to a toasty temperature she hadn’t felt since summer.
Her things were all sitting at the foot of the bed and a sapphire blue robe was spread across the white bedspread. She bit her lip, taking in all the extravagance. As much as she resented having to come here, she couldn’t help but be enchanted by the beauty of her accommodations.
“This room is for me?”
“I assume it’s nicer than what you have been used to recently.”
“I shared a room in a log cabin with my sister. I had the top bunk.”
“Things will be slightly different for you from now on.”
“Yeah, I’m going to be forced into prostituting myself to an immortal.”
“You are an immortal. Didn’t you realize that?”
“Sure, but I don’t get to make any choices for my life.”
“The current mating stipulation will be temporary. Once our kind regain our ancient knowledge, we will be able to better defend ourselves. The world is lawless after the Dark Sun. But it won’t remain that way. However, you can rest assured that any man who we allow to our mating rituals will have already been vetted by our Patriarch, Orion Silverdrake.”
“And what does he know?”
“He’s five thousand years old and one of the most powerful immortals alive on Earth today.”
“But not powerful enough to keep us from being forced into selling ourselves.”
“Orion has made the arrangements he’s needed to make for everyone’s best interest. We’ve had hundreds of successful matches since the new temple was founded. Not a single witch is unhappy with her new life.”
“How do you know that?”
“We keep tabs on each of the witches we match. We don’t just let them go off into the unknown without any safety guidelines.”
“Thank God for small favors.”
“It is clear you are deeply unhappy to be here. Many young women are when they’ve been brought by a parent. It is a typical reaction. No one will force you to stay. But if you do stay, you must abide by our rules.”
Bridget started toward the door, clearly done with Desdemona’s difficult behavior.
“Wait, I have one more question. Do you marry off the little kids an
d old women here?”
“Of course not,” Bridget spat out. “Women not of childbearing age are given protection with immunity. When the children grow into childbearing age, they enter the rotation if they choose to stay. We even give training to women who are married to human men and wish to remain so. I’ve personally worked with the Arch-Priestess since the inception of the temple and I can guarantee you we’ve done everything we can to respect the autonomy of our sisters. Now, I must be going. I have to prepare for the afternoon ritual. I will leave you to rest.”
Bridget slid out the door and Desdemona was left alone in the gorgeous bedroom. She looked around and decided to explore what was behind the two doors. She walked over to the one near the bed and pulled it open. It was full of flowy robe-like gowns.
Her mouth dropped and she turned to check out what was behind door number two. She strode to the door and yanked it open, finding a luxurious bathroom just beyond. It was better than the bathrooms her family had had in their suburban home before the Dark Sun. It was hard for her to believe that this was all for her to use now.
She walked into the tiled room and turned on the water. It flowed into a big clean tub. After a few minutes, it was full and she poured a sweet scented oil into the water from one of the glass bottles sitting beside it. It smelled of lavender and honey.
After peeling out of her dirty old clothes, she sank into the water. The warmth lapped over her tired body. The little scrapes and scratches on her skin from the lifestyle she’d lived for two years stung in the full body soak, but she ignored it. The warmth loosened her tight muscles and soothed her weary soul. It had been a long time since she’d last felt so relaxed.
Without realizing it, she fell asleep in the bath and didn’t wake up until the water had turned cold. She woke with a start, nearly sliding into the water. Gasping, she climbed out of the tub and toweled off with the big fluffy towel. Wrapping herself in a bathrobe, she walked out into the bedroom to find the fire had died down.
Desdemona threw a few logs on the fire and climbed into the fluffy bed without taking off the bathrobe. Fatigue started to take over. She fell into slumber as soon as her wet head hit the pillow and she didn’t wake again until there was a knock at the door.
She groggily climbed out of bed and opened the door to find Bridget standing on the other side.
“Oh, you were sleeping,” Bridget said. “We are at dinner in the main dining room. Or I can have something brought up if you’d prefer to stay in your rooms.”
“I’ll come down,” Desdemona said, yawning.
“Very good,” Bridget said, walking off down the hall.
Desdemona shut the door and went about getting ready to show herself in public. It had been a long time since she’d done her hair or put on makeup, but she wasn’t used to going around with tangled hair, wearing a bathrobe. She put on clean underthings from the closet, brushed out her hair, and grabbed the blue silky robe that still lay over the rumpled bedspread.
She slipped into the garment, feeling the silky soft fabric slide over her skin. It was so luxurious and comfortable she couldn’t place what kind of fabric it was. It felt too thick to be silk, but too fine to be cotton. The embroidery around the neck, of coiling vines and blooming pink flowers was made of the same silky feeling material. She made a mental note to ask someone about it. Desdemona was a musician, not a seamstress, but she loved beautiful clothing as much as any girl.
When she was prepared as possible, she left her room and made her way down to the first floor of the mansion to the dining room. All the women were there. This time she also saw the one man who lived at the mansion, who must have been Orion Silverdrake, Arch-Priestess Lucia’s husband.
There was more animation among the women during the evening meal than there had been at breakfast. Lucia and Orion were seated at a table at the head of the room with a baby of about a year old. Lucia was already pregnant again and it was only two years since the dark times. These immortals didn’t waste any time. She wondered if she’d be expected to breed like that when she was given to an immortal. The thought of it made her recoil in disgust.
She walked to the banquet, smelling the scent of food wafting through the air. She grabbed a plate and put it on a tray before starting down the line behind a few other women. Most of the group were already seated. When she was done loading her plate with the second huge meal of the day, a group of women walked onto a small raised platform with musical instruments in their hands.
Desdemona sat at a table facing the musicians and watched as they tuned up and began to play. She could feel the energy of the magic swirling through the room.
Even with steak and potatoes on her plate, she could barely eat from the excitement. She wondered if they’d let her join their band. After shoving several bites into her mouth, she started to stand up, intending to go upstairs for her guitar.
“Lovely, isn’t it?” Bridget said, walking up behind her.
“That’s exactly what my magic does,” Desdemona said.
“Would you like to join them?”
“Yeah. I’m going to get my guitar.”
“I’m sure you can play one of the extras. We have many instruments and few musicians. It is a very special skill, Desdemona. One you’ve probably only scratched the surface of.”
She slid out of her chair and approached the small rise of the stage where the women continued to play something that sounded like a traditional Irish reel. The violinist was extremely gifted for a girl not much older than Desdemona. She could barely contain her admiration as her heart jumped up in her throat at the sound of the violin music.
The woman closest to her nodded her silver-haired head and Desdemona stepped up onto the stage. There was a stack of instruments along the back wall behind the band. She found an acoustic guitar and strummed it quietly check its tuning. Hearing that it was in perfect tune, she turned to join the rest of the players.
Closing her eyes, she felt the music and found her place in the melody, strumming chords in support of the soloist. The feeling of playing with other witch musicians was beyond anything she ever could have imagined. In that moment, Desdemona decided that she was glad she’d come.
Chapter 5
Titus arrived back in his penthouse more irritated than ever. He had not been able to locate his shipments and the humans from the Great Lake region were not being patient or helpful. Sometimes he didn’t know why he even bothered dealing with these people. That went for the Blackrose coven as well.
During the veil, the human world took care of itself. Even as they engaged in wars, run mostly by members of the Surge. However, for the most part, human civilization ran itself.
Titus had felt mostly indifference toward humans for most of his existence. He sometimes briefly felt sorry for their weakness but his pity did not translate into hatred or devotion like his brother. Orion loved the humans because his mate Lucia was a witch. Witches were half human and half goddess. Being half human, they always felt a maternal obligation to the mortal race. Vampires and dragons on the other hand had far less human DNA, even though they were technically crossbreeds.
For the last two thousand years, Titus had believed it was Gama’s responsibility to attend to her own creations after she’d used the witches to cast the veil. Instead of them taking care of anything, the elder Gods had left Earth and stripped their immortal children of their natural power.
He stared at his wide oak table facing the vast view of the Mississippi River. His nephew Ajax walked through his door and sat at that upholstered chair across from his desk.
“What is it?” Titus said, irritated that he had been interrupted.
“Did you know the Alpha of the Iron Claw clan just had twins?”
“Why should I care?” Titus asked.
“Don’t you love babies?” Ajax teased.
“I’m completely indifferent to infants,” Titus replied.
“It isn’t about the child, but what the child means,” Ajax said, standing f
rom the chair.
He leaned over his uncle’s desk and stared the older immortal in the eyes. “There have been whispers, uncle, that your claim as Alpha of the Silverdrake clan is invalid.”
“That’s ridiculous. Orion has been clan Alpha for three thousand years. I’m his brother and only a few years younger than he. Orion and I are equal in strength and ability. I am next in line. Who is saying such things?”
“It’s all over the immortal internet,” Ajax said sitting back down.
The younger immortal’s green eyes flashed as he spoke. Ajax was only two thousand years old and had grown up mostly during the veil. Though he was many times older than the average human, he also had human tendencies that immortals of Titus’s generation did not have. Ajax rested his booted foot on Titus’s desk.
Titus frowned and grabbed the ancient sword that hung behind his desk. He pulled the sharpened steel from its scabbard and used the tip to push his nephew’s foot off his desk.
“Don’t do that again. Next time I will chop it off.” Titus said.
“So testy today, Uncle,” Ajax said.
“Why do you bring me this news, nephew?” Titus said. “Do you believe that you have a more legitimate claim as Alpha than I do?”
“I would be willing to find a bride,” Ajax said.
“I do not desire a bride. Go to the temple if you please.”
“I’m not going to break the agreement the allied immortals made. Since you are Alpha, I would assume you wouldn’t want that either. You were part of the decision.”
“I voted against it. I don’t see what difference it makes.”
“Because, Uncle,” Ajax said. “You have an obligation to ensure your line as Alpha of the Silverdrake clan.”
Ajax stood, wearing dark jeans and a black cashmere sweater against the chill outside. He had his dark hair cropped short with his bangs long. It was swept back in an infuriatingly modern style.
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