Transit of Ishtar, Paranormal Erotic Romance / Urban Fantasy (Book 2 of Sinnis)

by Natalie Gibson

  The doctor pushed his glasses back up his nose as he straightened and smiled. “Anything else, Holy One?”

  “My blood. I would have it back from those who took it without my consent.” It was said with contempt in a manner meant to accuse the doctor. It was then followed with a smile that did more to dishearten the doctor than the contempt.

  “Certainly. At once.” He typed the command that opened the storage drawer in the observation room where all viles of blood would be stored. He reached to the wall mount and initiated the intercom, “Anyone alive out there, bring the blood into my office.”

  When he got no response, he knew why and started towards the door. He would have to retrieve the viles himself. 603 appeared in the doorway. “Sorry, no one out here but me and I'm not technically alive either.” She was covered in the dark blood that comes from human organs. In one hand she held one such quivering organ and in the other she held the viles. She quickly knelt before the god-king, offering both up to him. “Your blood and the heart of the most evil man here.”

  “Drain them all. You will need your strength to fight Ereshkigal. Follow the scent of your brothers, the vrykolak. They will already be fighting her.”

  She didn't move and the doctor spoke up to the mighty man, “She does not speak the language of the gods. I will interpret if it please your majesty.”

  The giant gestured that it would, then turned on his heel and sat in the chair closest to him. He looked quite relaxed and, if he hadn't been covered in the arterial splatter of two dozen men, might have looked peaceful as well. The chair squeaked and groaned, trying to stay in one piece under his weight.

  The doctor did as he was granted permission to do. He relayed the message to 603. She didn't care for her orders coming through the doctor. She growled. She stared at him with those solid black eyes as she lifted the heart to her mouth. When it was dry, she dropped it and the wet heavy plop made the doctor feel nauseas. She unstoppered each of the viles and poured them all into her mouth at once. A look of pure ecstasy washed over her. She even shivered, her breathing sounded labored, as the hardness came back to her. She was a shark again, a hungry predator.

  Such a waste! So much serum could be made from even the small amount sticking to the sides of the viles. “Good? Better than my little concoction?” The doctor took the black case out of his pocket and brandished it at her. “There are three injections left in here. I'll trade you for those empty test tubes.”

  Before he could blink she was beside him. With a movement too quick for him to see, she batted the case out of his grasp. It shattered against the wall. She clamped down on his shoulder, bruising him, pushing him down over the desk, just as Kwabe had done to her not an hour ago. His bones groaned in her superhuman grasp. As she was about to bite in, her maker stood and held up a hand in the universal sign for 'stop'. Instead of biting, she whispered in the doctors ear, “Don't speak to me again directly unless He tells you to. You better hope he never learns English. The day he does is your last.”

  She disappeared. The doctor straightened up and the god sat back down. The voice that sounded like legions hurt the doctor's brain, “Tell me why I just saved your life, Paion.”

  The doctor did not allow his shock at the god-king knowing the Fellowship's name to show on his face. He answered plainly and was quite proud that he kept his voice from shaking, “You need me to translate”.

  The dark haired giant said, “Wrong. I speak English very well.” in English and then waited for the doctors next guess.

  The doctor guessed, “I have knowledge that could help you. This modern world, not just it's language, is alien to you and I can be your link to it. If you know where the hidden city lies, we can find you the knife of Ereshkigal and save you any hassle from the outside world.”

  ***

  Nathalia was throwing the last zambi body on the now raging fire. The wolf-like howl sent a chill up her spine. She froze long enough for a posthumous arm to reach out from the flames and grab her ankle. Eiran was there in a flash.

  “Listen to Ki. Our mother speaks in a whisper, but we can always hear her if we try.” Eiran instructed her as he extricated the dead limb from her leg.

  She winced at the level of violence happening in the building a few hundred miles away. She immediately recognized the fingerprint of the Akhkharu that drank her blood and marrow. We have to go. That monster is hurting and killing people.

  “No. With the strength of your blood he would surely best us both. A freshly turned Akhkharu is impossible to defeat.”

  So, this was all her fault. All that death she had felt was possible because of her blood running through the veins of a monster. A monster that couldn't yet be killed. The world would be a better place without her in it. She ran and jumped up to a plateau on the rocky mountainside nearest and Eiran appeared beside her.

  “His strength will diminish over time as he loses his control over his cells and his appearance will start to betray his evil will. Then and only then will a circle of brothers be able to bring him to Ud and Ki's justice.”

  It was said that she alone would be able to wield the weapon that could end Akhkharu and Nephilim alike. It would be a true death from which there would be no rejuvenating. It was obvious to Eiran that, not only did she not know of the prophesy, she also had no knowledge of such a weapons whereabouts nor how to use it. “You handled the zambi very well. Tonight you will also kill his vrykolak.” Eiran disappeared.

  She could feel his presence so knew she could still talk to him, Vrykolak? What in the great Mother is a vrykolak?

  Eiran replied silently so that only she could 'hear' him, It is an evil creature turned by an Akhkharu on a full moon night.

  A werewolf?!

  Maybe. I do not know that word.

  Nathalia could hear the scrabbling to her left and turned to face the vrykolak. Yep, definitely a werewolf. It certainly looked like something from a horror movie. It was wolf-like and ran on all fours. It was covered in coarse gray black hair, but the fur was darker around it's muzzle. It was shinier there too and fur was clumped together.

  An Akhkharu finds and then drains an already vicious and violent man. Then he feeds the dying, but not dead man, his own blood. The conversion is painful for the man and the Akhkharu gains strength from it. The man becomes a murderous monster that cannot be reasoned with. He, more animal than man, cannot be saved, only destroyed.

  As she looked at it's muzzle, it snarled at her, showing off it's sharp teeth. When it snapped at her, the movement shook a small drop of something loose. She watched with great interest as blood fell from it's face onto the ground.

  It splattered on the rocks and Nathalia studied the patterns. Now was not the time to be distracted by small mundane details, she told herself. Before she had time to think and plan, the vrykolak charged Nathalia. It was very fast, but she was faster.

  Instinctively she stepped to one side at the last second and the vrykolak slammed face first into the rocks behind her. The rock cracked and a giant fracture rippled it's way up the mountain face. So vrykolak were strong but they were also very stupid.

  Nathalia wasn't feeling her smartest either. How am I supposed to kill this thing?

  As the beast stood there on it's trembling legs, trying to shake the pain from it's head, Nathalia reached her hand out and stroked the wolf's back. Not a smart move, but she couldn't resist. She had to know what that fur felt like. It was thick, but not as rough as it looked. She could feel each individual strand as it ran across her palm. Then she realized what was different about this animal.

  It didn't glow with any measure of life. Not like the sheep and lizards, nor man and Eiran. She didn't hunger for it's prana because it had none to speak of. This was a dead thing like the zambi, or maybe an un-dead thing.

  The vrykolak was turning around to charge at her again as she wondered absentmindedly how she was supposed to kill something that was already without life. What she was really thinking about was her hair. She kne
w now why it felt so different to her. It wasn't dead at all. Each strand was so sensitive because they were alive.

  Eiran must have heard what she was thinking because he answered her as the vrykolak charged again, Yes, it is alive because our cells never die. I had to make your hair and nails from living cells. Now pay attention to the fight.

  Nathalia jumped straight up into the air and delivered a kick to it's hindquarters. The vrykolak was pushed far out from the edge. There were loud cracks as he landed in the zambi fire not far from them. Barely noticing the stink of burning fur, Nathalia landed gingerly back in her place, examining her hair.

  Is that why the mothers are all still so intact? Their cells aren't really dead?

  The scrabbling sound came again, but it was slower this time and the wolf was making involuntary noises as rock met injury. Yes, we can reconstruct humans just as we do ourselves, but we cannot fabricate the spark of life. They will never rot. They appear forever as if they just died. Now, how are you going to kill the vrykolak? He is coming and will heal quickly.

  Eiran hadn't warned her in time. The monster grabbed her ankle and tugged, hard. Nathalia fell forward and her mouth hit a rock. She felt her teeth go through her lip and part of her tongue. Blood was pumping into her mouth. She was about to spit it to the ground when she heard Eiran's sharp warning in her head, Don't let even a drop hit the ground. Keep your mouth clamped shut and swallow it.

  Nathalia jumped up onto the next higher ledge and did just that. She swallowed every drop of that delicious nectar. She found herself sucking a little harder when she realized the wounds in her mouth were healing up quickly and reducing the flow. Her blood tasted different than the shepherds. It was sweeter and more prana dense. Her head felt light as if every care in the world had been erased. Her body was tingling with the joy of the experience. Have you had your own blood? I may never drink anything else.

  Another vrykolak joined the wounded and weary one already pacing the plateau under Nathalia's feet. They were both looking for a way up to get her. The first one, skin healed but fur still charred, tried a few times but only succeeded in bringing down a rain of pebbles onto it's own head. The new one was lighter colored than the first. It looked up at the path the dark one was trying and failing at and seemed to be making a plan.

  We have all tasted our blood and become obsessed with it. Addiction to our own blood has started many brother down the path that leads to taking another Nephilim's blood.

  Nathalia thought about it and decided it was like masturbation. Fun but futile. Like that, it leads to more and more thoughts about the real thing and how much better it must be if the solo act is so fun. She could understand that this sensation could lead to desire to taste other Nephilim blood. She wondered what Eiran's blood tasted like.

  Just like that the hunger was on her again. She pushed it down with great effort. She felt, more than heard, the encouragement of Eiran. He must have witnessed her struggle.

  The newly arrived vrykolak scratched and pulled it's way up to her. It was successful, but only at the expense of the scorched wolf. It had been trying to follow but got buried under an avalanche of rocks. Big ones. The pile was moving, but just barely. The blond wolf laid down before Nathalia and put it's head on it's paws.

  Go ahead, pet it. Eiran encouraged her.

  Nathalia clacked her tongue and wagged her finger at the beast, Oh, no. I'm not falling for that. The puppy dog eyes never worked on me. If I come over there you'll just bite me.

  The wolf grinned at her and angled it's head so she could see it's teeth. Well actually all she could see was the space where the teeth should have been. It was toothless. She crawled toward it cautiously and it actually wagged it's tail at her. She reached out and rubbed it's back.

  First she was struck with how much softer this one was than the dark vrykolak. Then she was floored by the realization that this was no un-dead creature. She focused her attentions on it and could see that it read high on the prana scale. It glowed just like... Eiran?

  Eiran in wolf form licked her hand and then her face, but was careful not to get near her mouth that had been wounded. It tickled her and she fell back. He jumped up and stood over her, nosing her throat and ears, licking her forearms that she tried to use to protect herself from his playful attack.

  Her laughter rang out inside his head, Stop that. She turned herself over and tried to crawl away and the mood changed abruptly. She was on all fours and he was right on top of her. He clamped the scruff of her neck in his toothless mouth. She felt the other type hunger creeping back up. Her incisors came out again and she pressed back into him. They both stayed there panting, struggling to stay in control. He licked her neck and spoke inside her mind, We will certainly make love in wolf form someday, but not tonight. You really do not want me to take your virginity as a wolf.

  It was hard but she managed to compartmentalize her hunger and put it way. She had found a place for her hunger, a tiny box deep inside. It was easy to reach and getting easier to seal. Her incisors retreated, No, I don't. And don't we have a vrykolak to deal with, a real one?

  As soon as he felt her regain her composure, Eiran was gone. Nathalia rolled over on her back and looked up at the full moon. Sister Annu, give me strength, she thought. She immediately felt stronger and more in control. She heard Eiran's voice below her, “Jump down here.”

  She jumped and landed on her feet beside Eiran, who was already pulling rocks away from the vrykolak. It was radiating anger and aggression and was desperately trying to free itself. “Corruption is cleansed by fire. Other Nephilim must suffer with each accursed creature's cleansing. You and I have an easier time because we can ease the anxiety of their passing. Push your feelings into his brain as you did with the shepherd. Put him at peace.”

  Nathalia reached out and made a connection with the monster. His blind rage was red and inflamed and it tried to sever her connection. She concentrated on the happy moments of her life. They were few and far between but there were some. A few with Maeve, her childhood friend, were expected, but a new one cropped up as ammunition. She used it. It didn't seem possible, but her happiest memory was the moment right after her suicide, when Eiran had come and tabalu with her. She remembered in great detail how it felt. She had relaxed in his arms and listened to his sweet song. There had been a burning heat on her neck and then there was nothing.

  That wasn't entirely accurate. There was pleasure, pure unadulterated bliss. She was alive, but couldn't feel her body. She was conscious, but had no thought. Just joy. Many said this was how the capacitors felt after being plugged into the pure raw physical pleasure of hundreds of couples. The exposure to that power turned their bodies into stone, but Nathalia hadn't feel like stone. She'd felt like air. Eiran had been there too, in that moment of pure being, and she was glad. He was warmth and he permeated every cell of her body.

  She could just make out the neck of the vrykolak. She pushed her happy calm feelings toward the monster. At first it made him struggle more, but then it took hold. The beast breathed a big sigh of relief.

  “Watch.” Eiran held one hand out for her to examine. As she watched his fingers lengthened and thinned. Then, when all semblance of individual fingers was gone, the skin took on a shiny metallic look. The end of his arm was a short sword. “You can do it too. Look inside yourself and find the metal. Push it and mold it. You have control over your body.”

  Eiran struck the neck, severing the head in one move. Slowly, as if he were allowing her time to study, his sword became fingers, hand and forearm. It was all covered in blood.

  She felt like she should have been disgusted, but she wasn't. It seemed very natural to kill in this way. She doubted that she could do it, though.

  Chop off the heads with my sword-hand. Got it. Now what?

  “Now we wait for the sun.”

  Why wait? He's not going anywhere.

  “We have to make sure that no animal eats any of the carcass. Our blood has strange effects on al
l other life and though this is just a human, he was changed and corrupted by it and carries some of our blood inside him.”

  So what if some of my blood had dripped on the ground? Nathalia sat on a rock that Eiran had pulled off of the pile and was amazed to see a tiny lizard crawl out from under it to rest on her foot. It seemed very relaxed.

  Eiran paced around the body of the vrykolak, pulling rocks from it, preparing it for the rise of Ud. “The body of Ki is packed with life waiting for the right circumstances to come out. Your blood would have fed and fertilized a small dormant seed and it would have sprung to life. Eternal life.” After a moment to consider, Eiran pierced his own thumb with his teeth and let one single drop land on the sandy soil. Immediately something started to happen. The drop didn't set on the top, but was sucked in by the earth itself. A tiny sprig of green coiled it's way out from the very spot the drop had touched. Very quickly a rolled up leaf and then another followed. They unrolled and the plant grew.

  “Long ago we had wise medicine men who tried to help us harness the power in our blood and use it for the good of the earth. We tried to make fields of grain and vegetables that would live through any drought. We succeeded, but what good is a plant that will continue to grow and thrive in any condition? No man nor beast can consume such a thing and live. We had to destroy all of our work. We retreated into legend and myth, but the medicine men would not give up. They continued to use our blood for their own gain. In the end we had to destroy them too. Our confidants became our enemies.”

  Nathalia reached over and plucked the small miracle plant up from the ground. It continued to grow as she held it. A vine twisted down and around her finger and a small purple flower blossomed there. She smiled at her natural ring. She leaned back bracing herself with her other arm as she enjoyed the tiny blood fed bloom. She was so distracted that she barely felt the thing coiling up her arm. She looked down expecting to see a vine creeping up her arm, but found herself looking eye to eye with a snake.