by I. T. Lucas
Their appearances couldn't have been more misleading. Of the two, Brundar was the deadlier force—cold, calculated, and skilled.
Anandur's reliance on his brute strength, though, didn't mean that he could be easily fooled or manipulated. He was a keen observer, capable of a quick and accurate assessment of sticky situations, never acting on impulse. The big oaf act fooled his opponents into underestimating him, which, of course, was the whole point.
Together, the brothers, who’d been serving as his bodyguards for centuries, were deadly to anyone posing a threat to Kian or the clan.
As expected, Gino's was packed with customers waiting in line on the sidewalk to be seated. The few round bistro tables on its narrow veranda were all taken by a mismatched mix of mothers with babies and business types, sipping on their small cappuccino cups or digging into their fragrant and colorful dishes.
The appetizing smells made Kian's stomach growl, and not surprisingly the sensation of hunger made him even more irritable than usual.
Bypassing the crowd, he took the worn stairs that led directly from the back entrance up to what Gino called his VIP section; a small room on the second floor reserved for his special guests—those who, for various reasons, didn't want to mingle with the rest of the clientele, or members of his large, extended family.
The room looked like an old lady's parlor. Old-fashioned wallpaper in green and yellow hues covered walls that were decorated with the fading portraits of stern matriarchs and patriarchs posing in their Sunday best, their disapproving expressions staring from their frames. Against the back wall, the pale blue velvet sofa and two pink armchairs were worn and ugly as hell, but heaven to sit on with a cup of cappuccino at the end of a meal. The round dining table in the center was surrounded by six upholstered chairs, and the serveware came from a peeling sideboard laboring under the weight of piles of china.
Looking at it, Kian imagined that one of these days the thing would collapse, and Gino's heirloom collection would be history. But each time he mentioned it, Gino just smiled and said not to worry; his grandmother's sideboard held for the past fifty years and would keep on holding for at least that many more.
With another glance at the wood's widening cracks, Kian shrugged and sat down. He would hate to tell the guy; I told you so… when it eventually fell apart.
As he peered at the street through the open French doors that led to the tiny balcony overlooking the front, the lacy curtains fluttered in the light, warm breeze. Feeling his tension ease, Kian realized he liked it here. It was cozy and intimate, despite the tacky decor, or perhaps owing to it.
CHAPTER 3: ANANDUR
"Hey, Gino!" Anandur waved the proprietor over. "How are you doing, buddy? Life treating you well?"
"Can't complain… business is doing good, the family is good, so I'm good. Eh? What can I do for you, gentlemen?"
For some reason, Gino was always nervous around them, despite the fact that since Amanda got the job at the university, they ate here at least twice a month and left extravagant tips. Anandur often wondered if it was the small guy's instinctive wariness of men their size, or Gino suspecting them of being mafia goons.
Calling Kian boss certainly didn't help matters. But what the heck, Anandur liked messing with the old man.
"The boss is upstairs… Could you please set us a table down here next to the stairs?" Anandur leaned down to Gino's ear. "We need to watch both entrances… if you know what I mean…," he whispered, pausing for effect. "Oh, and the lady is going to join him shortly, so it will be two upstairs and two downstairs for lunch today."
"The lovely Ms. Amanda?" the small man breathed, wiping his spotless hands on his pristine apron, his mostly bald head glistening with perspiration.
"The one and only." Anandur chuckled. "And speaking of the devil; here she is in person, the beautiful, Dr. Amanda Dokani." He pointed at the front door.
"Hi, boys!" Amanda sauntered into the restaurant, causing a momentary halt in the chatter. She hugged Brundar, then stretching to reach, kissed Anandur's cheek. "Kian upstairs?"
"Yep, he is waiting for you. But before you go, I just wanted to say, you totally rocked today!" Anandur high-fived her. "I didn't snooze even once." He pulled her into a hug.
"Yeah, congrats on the promotion, Amanda. Nice, really nice,” Brundar added, for once not skimping on words.
Gino was still wiping his hands, waiting for her to acknowledge him.
Amanda turned, flashing him her megawatt smile. "Gino! Sweetheart!" She leaned to give him a hug.
"Bellissima!" He blushed the color of beets, returning the hug and planting a kiss on each of her cheeks. "So happy to see you again."
"You always brighten my day, Gino. The way you say bellissima… Makes a girl swoon. Be a darling and bring me my wine upstairs? I'm in the mood to celebrate today. You still stock it, I hope?"
"I keep it just for you, Bellissima!" He beamed.
Amanda's favorite wine, a 2005 Angelus, was too rich for Gino's regulars, but he always kept a bottle just for her. Excusing himself, Gino scurried to the kitchen, probably to fish out the bottle he was hiding behind the onions in the pantry.
Starting up, Amanda paused mid-stair. "Aren't you coming?" She arched her brows.
"Sorry, princess, we are on guard duty, keeping an eye out from down here. The two of you together in public always makes me twitchy." Anandur waved her off and dragged a chair to the small table the waiter placed near the stairs.
"As you wish." Amanda shrugged and kept climbing.
CHAPTER 4: AMANDA
Amanda wasn't about to argue. The conversation she planned to have with her brother required privacy.
Agh, he is going to fume and rant, she cringed.
For a good guy, he sure had a very short fuse. But giving up was not an option.
The future of their clan depended on it.
"I'm so proud of you!" Kian got up and pulled her into a hug.
"It's about time someone was!" Lingering in the comfort of Kian's warm embrace, Amanda sniffled, blinking back the tears that were threatening to ruin her makeup; looking like a raccoon with runny mascara was so not happening. "The naughty party girl is finally making a contribution." She chuckled.
Nine years ago, Amanda had decided to enroll in college, surprising everyone, most of all herself, with how brilliant she turned out to be. In just seven years, she’d earned a Ph.D. in the Philosophy of Neuroscience, and was now hailed as a new and fresh thinker, a leader in her field. Her papers were published in the most respected scientific journals.
"Oh, sweetheart, when you look ahead to a lifespan of thousands of years, two centuries of partying seem like nothing at all. And after the sorrow you had endured, you deserved all the joy you could find."
As the old pain she'd buried deep down behind thick walls and a moat surfaced, dragging its serrated edge through her insides, tears began running freely down her cheeks. "You know I don't talk about it!" She pushed away from him, wiping the tears with her thumbs while careful not to smudge her mascara.
In the silence that followed, the sound of Gino's light footfalls echoing from the stairwell, announced his arrival a moment before he rushed in with a loaded tray in one hand and a folded stand in the other. Setting it up by the table, he proceeded to pull out a chair for Amanda. "My lady?" He gestured for her to take a seat.
Donning her usual cheerful mask, Amanda did was she'd always done when unpleasant thoughts intruded. She pushed them back into their little jail, redirecting her train of thought to a happier place; like whether Gino insisted on always serving them himself because he coveted their generous tips, or more time to admire her. "Thank you, Gino." She sat down, sneaking another discreet swipe at her eyes before offering him a bright smile.
After fussing with the placement of the wine glasses, Gino removed the red-checkered napkin from the basket of freshly baked rolls to let the steam out, then made a big show of opening the bottle and pouring each of them Amanda's chosen wine.<
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Pulling out two menus from the pocket of his apron, he was about to hand them out, when Kian stopped him with a chuckle. "That will not be necessary. Unless you have added new items since the last time, I can recite your menu verbatim… I'll have a Caesar salad and the vegetable lasagna, please."
"The garden delight fettuccine and your delicious house salad, perfavore." Amanda smiled at Gino and reached for one of the fragrant rolls.
"Very well!" His face beaming with satisfaction, Gino puffed out his chest and stuffed the menus back in his apron's pocket. "I'll be back with your salads momentarily."
Sipping her wine, Amanda stole a furtive glance at Kian to assess his mood, as she thought of a way to broach the delicate subject she needed to discuss with him.
"You're plotting something…" Kian narrowed his eyes. "I know that contemplating look, the one you have when you want to tell me something you know I'm not going to like. Let's hear it then and get it over with so I can bite your head off, and we can eat in peace."
Amanda pouted. "You could be nice and agreeable for a change.”
"Spill!"
"I want you to meet Syssi," she blurted in a hurry, cringing in preparation for his retort.
"Syssi?!" He arched a brow.
"Yes, Syssi, my research assistant, remember? I mentioned her before." Amanda looked hopefully at Kian. He didn't seem angry. Yet… Maybe this would go easier than she had expected.
"Last I heard you mention that girl, you were blabbering about an architecture graduate who excelled at predicting coin tosses."
"I hired her," Amanda said while trying to look remorseful.
"And what credentials did she bring to the job? Arranging the Functional MRI machines in an aesthetically pleasing manner? Painting the lab in designer colors? I understand you wanted to test her, but why hire the girl?"
Kian's level of aggravation was rising with each sentence. He had this tendency to fuel his own temper over minor issues. And yet, when things hit critical mass he somehow managed to be as cool as a cucumber.
"Syssi is an amazing person; smart, dedicated, and hard working. The internship she had lined up bummed. The poor shmuck died of a heart attack on a fishing trip of all places. I needed a research assistant, and she was both available and the best test subject I had to date. She is off the charts, Kian. And it's not only the coin tosses, which in itself is beyond impressive; she guesses with eighty-seven percent accuracy. The random-computer-selected-images test? You know which one I'm talking about?"
When he nodded, she continued. "She was spot on, or close to the correct image in ninety-two out of a hundred pictures. She has the strongest precognition ability of any mortal I've ever tested. I'm telling you, Syssi is a Dormant, Kian. I just know it." Amanda could barely contain her excitement.
Kian ran both hands through his hair. "I can't do it again, Amanda. It's just wrong. I'm still cringing from the memory of having to seduce the last girl you were convinced was a Dormant. Pick another male. It doesn't have to be me."
"I don't know what your problem is, Kian. You bang random women you pick up at clubs and bars, and I know for a fact that you even paid for it on occasion. So why not Syssi? Why not someone who has the potential to change your life and give hope to the rest of us? We know there must be Dormants out there; carriers of our unrealized genes who can be turned into near-immortals like us. Potential mates we could bond with for life. And I think I finally found a way to identify them. You know why I started this research in the first place, searching for anomalies, paranormal abilities. Once we’ve realized DNA testing produced shit, instead of giving up, I took a different approach. Don't you want children, Kian? Immortal children? Don't you want a life-mate?" Amanda was exasperated. If it were up to her, she wouldn't even pause to think. But only males had the venom necessary to activate the dormant DNA.
It was a cruel twist of fate, or as Kian believed; the work of a crazy geneticist. Only the immortal females contributed the special genetic material to their offspring. And only males could activate it in a Dormant.
An immortal mother and a mortal father produced mortal offspring that possessed the dormant immortal genes that could be activated by venom. If not activated, the dormant genetic material would still be passed from mother to daughter, and so on. But not the sons.
The immortal heredity was matrilineal.
To facilitate the activation of a Dormant, an immortal male would have to inject the latent with his venom. When sexually aroused, the male's fangs descended and venom was produced in specialized glands; the need to bite and release it into the female's system congruent with the need to ejaculate.
Aggression toward other males triggered a similar reaction. Though the venom produced for the purpose of immobilizing or even killing an opponent was obviously more potent and carried a different mix of chemicals. A large amount of it, pumped into the victim's system, paralyzed the body and stopped the heart. Even in immortals.
Kian just stared at her, looking stunned by her audacity. But she did not back down. Holding his stare, she challenged him to pick up the gauntlet.
"You really want to know what the big deal is? I'll tell you. I hate it! I hate what I have to do. I feel like a drug addict; needing, craving the release sex provides and despising the need. I wish I could abstain, or at least have the luxury human males have of taking matters into their own hands, so to speak. But I can't bite myself, can I? I tried, and how pathetic is that? If I could put my hands on the sick fuck who designed us this way, I would kill the fucker… slowly." Kian took a fortifying breath in an obvious attempt to calm down, then continued in a quieter voice.
"I use these women. I don't remember their faces or their names. They are all interchangeable in my mind. Not to feel like a jerk, I try not to objectify them, giving them as much pleasure as I can, and when tampering with their brain I leave the memory of pleasure intact, erasing only the biting part and replacing my features with those of another. That's all I can do to ease my conscience. But there is nothing I can do for myself, for the way I feel… As if I'm a goddamned animal with no control over my baser needs."
As she reached over and took Kian's hand, Amanda purposefully kept the pity she felt out of her expression. "I had no idea it got so bad for you."
She did not understand his misery. She loved sex. Loved the variety of partners. Perhaps it was different for the females of the clan because supposedly, there was a purpose to their sexual appetite. Conception was extremely rare for her people, and pregnancy was hailed a miracle. With the females of the clan holding the key to its continuity, as only their progeny could turn immortal, they were encouraged to seek a variety of human partners in the hopes of conceiving.
Their plight was not as bad as that of the males. The possibility of having a child to share their long life with, to bear witness to their journey, made the lack of a life-mate tolerable. But for the males there was no such solace. If their dalliance with a human resulted in a child, that child was mortal, with a mortal's short life span and vulnerability. But wasn't that exactly what she was trying to rectify? Find Dormants that were descendent from other matrilineal lines?
As all members of her clan were the progeny of one immortal female, they were forbidden to one another.
A big time taboo.
Kian took her hand. "You're still young, Amanda, so it's still fun for you. But I bet it will get old by the time you reach my age."
Amanda looked into his eyes and spoke softly. "Forgive me for pushing. But I still don't get what all of that has to do with you attempting Syssi. If she turns out to be a dud, all you did was have sex with another faceless, nameless female. But if she is the real deal, isn't it worth a try?"
As his handsome face hardened, Kian pulled his hand away, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Here is the thing, sister of mine. She will not be another faceless, nameless girl. We don't know how long it takes to turn an adult woman. We gave up after how long with the last one
? Three months? Those were the longest three months of my life. I didn't find her attractive or engaging. I felt like a man-whore." He uttered that last bit acidly, his expression turning to menacing.
"She wasn't completely hideous." Amanda attempted a sheepish apology.
"No, she wasn't hideous. She was an average, decent girl that didn’t deserve her brain being messed with. She probably still visits the shrink, trying to figure out what's wrong with her, and why she can't remember chunks of her life."
"She does. I'm paying for it,” Amanda admitted, sinking low in her chair. "She had a decent telepathic ability, and I was hopeful. I'm sorry it was so hard for you." Then shaking off her despairing mood, Amanda straightened her back and leaned forward. "Syssi is beautiful, Kian, and smart. You're going to love her…" She paused, realizing that the word love did her a disservice in the context of this conversation. "I mean, she is your type. She is blond, very pretty, with a deliciously curvy figure. I'm sure you'll find her attractive. And engaging. Did I mention already how smart she is? And nice?"
"I'll take your word for it, but I'll pass. Ask someone else. If she is so wonderful, I'm sure you'll have no shortage of volunteers." There was a finality to his tone that would have deterred a lesser opponent. But Amanda remained adamant.
"I'm not going to choose someone else,” Amanda hissed, then hushed as she heard Gino climbing the stairs.
Sensing the heavy tension in the room, Gino's smile faded. "Here are your salads, and more rolls. Enjoy!” He turned and beat feet in a hasty retreat.
Amanda waited till Gino was out of earshot before resuming her offense. "You are my only brother, and what's more, you're our mother's only living son. You're the closest to pureblood male the clan has. Your venom's potency is Syssi's best chance of turning. And when she turns, she will have the potential to create a new matrilineal line. Don't you want to be the one who creates it with her? Who knows if I will ever find another one? Maybe she is the one lucky shot? Are you willing to bet on it? To forfeit your one chance because of pride and arrogance?" Amanda was practically huffing with righteous indignation.