by Aja James
The library was a giant oval with concentric ovals of stacked gold cages from floor to ceiling, suspended by gold cables overhead, each metal box containing a priceless piece of the Dark Ones’ history. There were thousands of volumes in this chamber, each with hundreds of pages, which contained small, painstakingly written words in countless languages, lost and current, most of which were written in blood, for it was far more permanent than ink.
Even so, if the Dark histories were the sands of the Saharan desert, the records here represented a single grain.
Eveline couldn’t wait to get started. But where to dig in?
“How do I…”
She was about to ask how she accessed the books when, pausing with her fingers extended toward a particular volume, the metal cage the book was housed in unlocked of its own accord.
“Well that’s convenient,” Eveline murmured, impressed by either the magic or the technology in the library that provided such individualized access and security.
“Right?” Clara agreed. “I thought it was the neatest trick when I first ventured in here too. I wonder how it’s done. By now I’ve seen so many wondrous things, not the least of which is what my Eli can do. But every day I learn something new.”
“Are all of the books here accessible by anyone and everyone?” Eveline asked, glancing her fingers along a row of cages at chest level.
As soon as her hand left the metal box that had unlocked for her, it locked up again automatically.
“Definitely not,” Clara said. “There is a whole section in the northeast corner that won’t unlock for me. And of course, that’s the section I want access to the most. Those cages seem to contain the oldest scrolls, reams and reams of them.”
Eveline looked toward the mentioned direction.
A concentrated beam of sunlight filtering through the intricate stain-glass windows surrounding the library illuminated the forbidden section of tomes.
Even from several yards away, Eveline could tell that the scrolls lying in their metal boxes weren’t made of papyrus, but instead some sort of cloth, animal hide or parchment. Predating the time when papyrus was invented, around three thousand B.C., over five millennia ago. There were clay tablets as well, wrapped in leather, stacked in neat rows in a special section all their own.
“I’m in heaven,” Eveline breathed, spinning on the balls of her feet in a slow circle, and staring unblinkingly and lovingly at the endless shelves of books all around her.
“Come on,” Clara said, smiling at her new friend.
“Let’s go exploring.”
*** *** *** ***
Ramses made his way one floor down from the throne room to the library a couple of hours before dawn.
He kept tabs on his new Keeper occasionally throughout the day and night through video surveillance. He knew where she was at all times.
He knew when she’d bumped into Clara Scott. When the two women headed to the library. When Clara left without Eveline after a few hours of exploring the shelves together. When Eveline stayed in the library poring over one book after another for hours on end, forgetting to eat, only leaving briefly to answer the call of nature and to guzzle some water in the small adjacent kitchenette. And when she finally passed out over the gigantic teak wood table that rested in the center of the oval rings, supported on thick roots, carved from one continuous block.
It was then that Ramses realized he’d been had.
He should have held out for more when the Pure female bargained for her life. The way she loved this library, he could probably have asked for a whole year of Blood Contract and she wouldn’t have batted an eye.
He stood over the unconscious Seer (well, his temporary Keeper) now, observing her undetected.
Her face rested on her arms, folded on top of the smooth, glossy wood. Her squashed cheek pulled her mouth slightly open, and a bit of drool leaked out of one corner.
For some unfathomable reason, Ramses found the sight excessively adorable.
He was quite certain that the adjective adorable hadn’t crossed his mind in the whole of his long existence before Eveline Marceau. He was slightly perturbed by this realization.
Her long, feathery lashes lay dark against her porcelain complexion, darker than her auburn hair, which was spread in waves of bronze all around her.
She looked like a small, childlike fairy, huddled over the massive table. Full of innocence, yet passion too—could her pillowy red lips get any poutier?
Ramses bent and slipped his arms around and under the wee fae creature, easily gathering her up against his chest.
Her arms dangled loose instead of winding automatically around his neck as a child’s might, as if she wasn’t used to being picked up and carried. But she turned and buried her face into the center of his chest immediately and drew several deep breaths before relaxing into the cradle of his arms.
Well, he certainly didn’t recall the last time he did the picking up and carrying himself. If ever he did.
The gesture connoted a certain level of care.
The one person he’d ever cared for never countenanced to be carried. And he’d never had a child to hold…
With long strides, he took her to his private chambers in the back of the throne room and laid her on his gigantic bed.
She immediately rolled onto one of his pillows and hugged it to her with a sigh, like a child with a full-body teddy bear. Breathing the scent of him woven into the sheets on a deep inhale, she smiled contentedly in her sleep.
She liked the way he smelled, he noticed. Her body said so with the way she relaxed and softened, a faint blush dressing her cheeks.
But more than mere comfort, his scent aroused her.
And seeing her arousal aroused him as well. It had been an eternity since he’d felt this way; Ramses could hardly believe it was happening.
Looking down at his jutting cock, tenting the front of his trousers, demanding relief, there was no denying the truth. But whereas physical arousal was no stranger to him by any means, his emotions, his mind, had seldom been engaged.
Not since her.
Jade Cicada had been the only female to stir his feelings in many millennia. But they’d never explored what could have been. And too, in the back of his mind, he’d always known that she wasn’t for him.
Surely, this slip of a little sprite shouldn’t affect him so?
And yet, undeniably, she did.
The question was: What was he going to do about it?
“Because there were so few of them, scattered far and wide across the many realms of earth, Pure, Dark and humans alike, those who were Gifted with the Elements banded together whenever they could. Because of their incalculable powers to command Air, Earth, Water and Fire, they were feared by all other Kinds, hunted almost to extinction. Until one day, a cunning young queen made a pact that would forever change the course of Destiny… ”
—From the hidden sections of the Ecliptic Scrolls
Chapter Four
Eveline wrinkled her nose in slumber.
Something smelled tantalizingly delicious. Like smooth, dark chocolate stirring over low heat on the stove. Maybe with a little cinnamon sprinkled in.
Mmm. She was so hungry.
Even in sleep, she knew she’d skipped her meals again. Probably passed out in the library surrounded by books.
Note to subconscious self: remember to eat for the whole day upon waking.
Meanwhile, her nostrils flared as she picked up more of the complex alchemy of scents surrounding her, cocooning her.
Cinnamon wasn’t the only spice contributing to the delectable aroma. There was something earthy and salty too, blended into the bittersweet decadence. Something smoky and wild.
She dreamed of black, fertile soil after fresh rain. Jagged mountain ranges beneath thundering skies. And thick, red-hot lava rising through the tallest peaks, broiling and churning within the seemingly impenetrable rock.
A fire that was hot enough to melt stone.
Eveline squirmed restlessly as she dreamed, as if real flames danced within her veins.
Satin covered steel bands tightened around her, holding her still. Something hard and heavy inserted between her thighs, thick as a tree trunk and just as unyielding.
Another similar object hooked around the back of both her legs, keeping her lower body immobile, while the steel bands around her back held her upper body still. She was well and truly trapped.
Strangely, she didn’t mind the restraints around her. In fact, she sighed with contentment within her cozy, satin-covered, stone-hard prison. She was actually comfortable with her cheek pressed against the same hot satin, her arms squashed between her own torso and a particularly hard body pillow that conformed to her shape as if it was made specifically for her.
This must be what fetuses felt like in the womb, curled tightly in a warm, safe cocoon, protected and cherished.
But Eveline was hungry too.
So very hungry.
She darted her tongue out to lick her lips, accidentally encountering the hot, satiny surface she was pressed up against.
Oohhh.
Tasty.
Just like it smelled.
Bittersweet dark chocolate with spicy, earthy, salty undertones.
Unconsciously, she pressed closer to lick whatever she could reach like a tentative kitten with a rare, exotic treat.
Lick. Lick. Lick.
Eveline’s cocoon shifted like tectonic plates around her, growing restless as well.
So, so hungry.
Daringly, she leaned forward and took a bite.
Her small teeth met with resistance, but she’d luckily found a patch of satin-covered stone that was slightly forgiving, allowing her mouth to find purchase. Greedily, she sucked on the delicious satin, worrying it with her teeth.
The mountain around her rumbled with warning but didn’t remove her treat.
So she sucked and licked and nuzzled her face into the fragrant hollow.
If only she could sleep like this every night!
She sighed with happiness and drifted further into her dreams.
Dreams that bloomed from the stories she’d read earlier in the day, as she soaked up as much as she could from the Dark Ones’ library.
Dreams about an ancient time before the Great War, a time she’d seldom, if ever, heard or read about.
But it was so real and vivid in her mind as she discovered allusions to it from various sources and pieced the clues together. She felt almost as if she were right there in that world, watching it unfold…
First Cycle of the Dark Queen Ashlu, sixth millennium BC.
The earth shook and the heavens rumbled as the air outside the Dark Queen’s stone fortress crackled with portent.
“Another landslide near the northern range, my queen,” the weary courier reported as he knelt on one knee beneath the dais where the newly-crowned ruler sat upon a solid gold throne.
“It is the third in half a lunar cycle. The mountain is restless.”
The Fire Mountain.
Restless like a living being, a monster of rock and stone that spewed fire and ash when roused. It was the home of the brave (or stupid) few Element wielders who’d remained in Dark territories.
The young queen was silent upon hearing this unwelcome news.
She drummed her fingers upon the armrests of her elaborate seat, inwardly cursing her mother, the deceased previous queen of the Dark empire, for leaving this mess for her to clean up.
Queen Gaia had been a power-hungry war monger. She’d expanded the Dark Ones’ domain through force, and ruled with fear. Her campaigns were targeted toward other Immortals; she didn’t bother to waste time with puny, ignorant, barely civilized humans.
First, she pushed the Pure Ones to the edge of the continent, where she could keep an eye on them and regularly demanded tithes in the form of Blood Slaves.
Then, she corralled the Beasts in the jungles and forests. Every sun cycle, she led a hundred Dark warriors on a grand, ritualistic hunt—to cull the animal spirit population, especially any tiger, eagle or snake that was pregnant with young. She’d hunt them dead, mount their heads on her walls, stuff their feathers in her beds, and use their hides to cover the fortress floors.
The Pure Ones obeyed because they preferred peace over bloodshed. The Beasts didn’t fight back because they were a solitary breed, and it took joining forces, electing leaders, to muster any sort of offensive against the organized and well-trained Dark battalions. Something almost impossible to accomplish for the animals.
But the Elementals refused to get in line.
Though their numbers were the smallest, and their origins eclectic, they fought the hardest.
Previously, amongst themselves—as oceans crashed against mountains, thunder split the skies, wind and hail bombarded the earth, and fire razed entire forests.
Recently, they turned against the Dark Ones, rebelling against any force that tried to control the uncontrollable Mother Nature. And while they suffered massive losses, including many of their oldest and most powerful, the last tsunami they’d invoked had taken Gaia’s life as well.
Now, the Dark ruler known as “The Blood Moon Queen” was buried forever beneath the seven seas. Leaving her only daughter, just turned one hundred, a mere babe by vampire standards, to take up the heavy, blood-soaked ruling mantle.
“Who remains?” Ashlu asked.
Though the question seemed abrupt, without context, the queen’s Commander knew what she meant.
“All of the elder Elementals are dead. The second layer is young and influenceable, I believe. Some of the lesser Elementals have already fled to faraway lands. They cannot fight us and win; they know it. The remaining collective number less than two hands.”
“What is their strength?”
“It is difficult to assess what damage they can do,” the queen’s Consul inserted from her left side, stepping forward.
“But what my sources tell me is that these young Elementals do not have the stubbornness and experience of their predecessors. They cannot control their powers as reliably as their elders. They are angry. They are mourning. But most of all, they are afraid.”
Lightning streaked across the blackened skies, followed by the ground-shaking boom of thunder.
“Not too afraid to show off, it appears,” Ashlu remarked with a twist of her lips.
“Their elders made the oceans rise, submerging entire islands,” the Consul reminded her. “They made the ice on the mountains melt and flood the plains beneath, destroying everything in the deluge’s path. They made the earth split and the volcanoes erupt. Yet all we see from these Elementals that are left are landslides and thunderstorms. I think we can call their bluff.”
Ashlu narrowed her eyes in consideration.
“We only have a quarter of our original forces,” she pointed out.
“Less than ten Elementals remain in our territories, refusing to submit,” the Commander returned. “Our quarter forces number ten thousand. These are favorable odds.”
Ashlu drummed her fingers, waiting for him to continue.
“My spies report that even the creation of landslides and thunderstorms is taking a toll on the unpracticed wielders.”
“It is your Destiny to rule the races on earth,” the Consul added with a sense of urgency. “You are the prophesized Queen of All Kinds, my lady.”
Ashlu arched a skeptical brow.
“Isn’t this what you and my mother’s advisors told her? Perhaps you sent her on a fool’s errand. Perhaps you are sending me on one now. Perhaps you are eyeing the throne for yourself, Consul, hmm?”
To the male’s credit, he did not flinch, nor did he retreat.
Calmly he said, “The future is difficult to divine, my queen. Our interpretations are not always accurate. Queen Gaia paved the way for your leadership by eliminating all of the Elders. This is your chance to rule supreme. It would be my honor and pride to serve the greatest Dark Queen of all time.�
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Ashlu drummed her fingers in that same staccato beat, contemplating her options in pensive silence.
Finally, she asked, “What would you have me do?”
“What you do best, my queen,” the Consul answered. “Negotiate. Align interests. Reap the rewards.”
And so, with only a small squadron of personal guards, including the queen’s mightiest Commander, Ashlu trekked far from the safe stronghold of the Dark Ones’ fortress and climbed to the tallest peak of the Fire Mountain where the Elementals dwelled.
“You dare invade our home!”
Ashlu was greeted with blinding flashes of lightning and earth-shaking thunder as soon as the open cave where the Elementals huddled came into view.
A tall, slender female and a similarly lithe male stood side by side in front of their cave, barring the occupants within from view.
The female’s robes were entirely silver, as was her long, flowing hair. Her complexion was dark by contrast, and within the palm of her outstretched hand danced a rolling sphere of liquid. Clearly, she was a water Elemental.
The male’s attire was completely black, as was his shoulder-length wavy hair. He was quite pale, and it was impossible to tell the color of his eyes. He stood with his arms to his sides, his hands rolled into fists, both of which were shrouded in smoky tendrils. He must be an air Elemental.
Ashlu assessed both of them shrewdly and considered her words. She didn’t know the extent of their powers, but she could tell from the unsteadiness of the female’s hand and the uneven breathing of the male that they were afraid.
Furthermore, if they were very powerful, they would have demonstrated their abilities already. Perhaps a tidal wave to push Ashlu and her contingent down the mountain. Or a maelstrom to throw them right off the cliffs. Instead, they held back with suspended water spheres and smoky fists.
Weaklings.
It was always difficult to tell the real age of an Immortal, for they looked eternally youthful, but their eyes…their eyes showed their newness.
Despite Ashlu’s own young age, her nature was by far more dominant. And then there was Ashlu’s unique Gift—the ability to sense hesitancy and fear. She was an incredibly strong telepath, well in tune with others’ emotions.