Scarlet Night: The Complete Trilogy

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Scarlet Night: The Complete Trilogy Page 19

by Megan J. Parker


  “Incredible! The magic isn’t even awakening!”

  Serena looked over, still breathing heavily from the rush of adrenaline, “What are you talking about?”

  Nikki knelt down and pointed at Zane’s tattoos, “See? They’re still black! Not even a spark! After something like that the Maledictus would have taken over—should have taken over—but there’s nothing!”

  Serena sneered, “What’s this about Megatron taking over?”

  Though he was still groaning in pain, Zane started laughing only to cringe and clutch his stomach tighter, “Oh! Damn!”

  Nikki blushed, standing up, “The Maledictus; the curse! The beast that he turns into!”

  “That thing has a name?” Serena frowned.

  Nikki shrugged, “More-or-less.” She shook her head, “No matter what you call it, it should be on a rampage after the beating you just gave him.” Staring at Zane’s tattoos a moment longer she chuckled, “I wouldn’t have believed it in a million years! You really do calm it!”

  Serena shook her head and shot another glare at Zane, “Doesn’t have a thing to do with ‘calm’! Damn thing knows better than to show itself right now or I’d hand it its own ass, too!”

  It took nearly an hour for Zane to coax Serena’s voice to a normal volume and pitch, but in that time he wasn’t able to keep her from hurting him any further beyond the occasional slap when she was forced to pause long enough to draw a breath.

  “Look,” Zane sighed when the rage in Serena’s eyes dimmed and turned to sadness, “I’m sorry that I made you worry. After I left, I realized that what we needed—what I wanted—was to be able to live without worrying about that goddam monster fucking up everything anytime I got upset. I’ve tried so many times to have the tattoos removed or the curse lifted; been to doctors, cosmetic surgeons, fortune-tellers, mediums, and enough aurics to repopulate those we lost the other day! But nothing works! The tattoos won’t come off and the magic in them has fused to my cells! I’m not even sure dying will work at this point or if I’d just be handing control over to it for good.”

  “Why? Why does it matter who or what you are? You’ve known for so long that they couldn’t remove the tattoos!” Serena frowned, slumping down on the bed beside him, “I understand that it’s important to you to not to be a monster for my sake or the sake of Zoey and the others! But did you ever stop and think that disappearing like that might hurt us more? I mean, maybe I like you the way you are! Did you ever think of that? Maybe you aren’t as bad as you or everybody else or even the curse says you are! Have you ever once looked in the mirror and realized that, behind all the fireworks and special effects, these are still just tattoos? And, let’s be honest for a moment, it’s not like they’re hard on the eyes; pretty far from it, actually!”

  Zane gave her a look, “You can’t be serious!”

  Serena smiled, “What? You don’t believe me?” she shook her head and stuck her tongue out, “Girls love sexy men with ink!”

  Zane raised an eyebrow, “So you’re calling me ‘sexy’?”

  Serena smacked him again, “Don’t be a prepubescent bitch-boy, Zane! We’re not in middle school and you’re not asking me to some spring formal!”

  “Yea,” Zane frowned, rubbing his shoulder, “I’ll try to remember that. And I guess I see your point—about the tattoos and all, at least—but it just… well, it sucks! I’m not gonna sugarcoat it; it hurts so fucking bad, and I don’t know how much more fucking stress my body can handle before...” He sighed and hung his head, “I don’t like not knowing how much longer I’ve got.”

  “Yea, because I wake up every morning knowing exactly how long I’ve got before I go tits-up!”

  Zane frowned, “‘tits-up’?”

  “Grow up, dick! You know what I mean! The point is that nobody knows when they’ll die! Some are given days and march on for years, and others who are seen as the fittest and finest end up choking on a damn Tic-Tac!” She shook her head at him, “You think everybody with some condition that might end their lives use it as an excuse not to live?”

  Zane bit his lip and looked down, “I guess. It’s just scary to think that I might lose myself to that thing.”

  Serena smiled and set her hand on his knee, “I won’t let it take you over. We’ll work together and you’ll get better. Even if you can’t cure it, you can learn to control it more.”

  Considering this for a moment, Zane shifted his eyes to her hand on his leg—feeling the warmth and comfort from her palm starting to send ripples through his body—and realized it was the first time that a woman had touched him out of genuine affection and not just because he’d paid them or because they were afraid of him.

  And he didn’t want it to stop there.

  Not now.

  “Serena…” He looked up at her, studying her and trying to see if her expression might answer the burning question. Even then, seeing her stare back at him without fear or repulsion, he couldn’t be certain. It had just been too damn long!

  “It’s alright, Zane,” Serena assured him, her ruby lips curling up in an irresistible grin, “I’ll never be done getting under your skin.”

  Zane felt his body go hot, and, though he felt a well of terror initially, he realized that, for the first time in a long time, it had nothing to do with the curse. “I want…” he scowled at the way it sounded and shook his head, “No! I need to touch you.”

  Her smile didn’t waver or shift as her eyes shifted to his mouth and she moistened her lips, “Then what’s stopping you?”

  And suddenly his fear was gone.

  God damn if she didn’t do it again!

  Grinning at the bizarre power she had over him, he pushed her to her back with one arm while using the other to pull her face to his, finally getting a chance to taste and feel her. That contact, like the first drop of blood on a parched tongue, sparked a raw need that transcended any previous desires.

  Suddenly any distance between them—any part of her that wasn’t held against him—was an even greater curse than any the tattoos had ever been or could hope to be!

  Suddenly the deaths of many and the destruction of all were distant concerns when compared to the collapse of the current moment.

  Suddenly he understood.

  Struggling to pull his lips from hers, he looked into her face, seeing her for everything she was and would be from that moment on.

  “What?” She smiled and started to move her face towards his again.

  “You…” he blushed as she paused to hear what he had to say, “You loved me.”

  She smirked, “Dummy. I still do!”

  He shook his head, “No. Before—back in the forest that night—you showed me love; showed him love.”

  She blinked and leaned back, “What do you mean?”

  He smiled, “That first night… I couldn’t remember what had happened; how we ended up waking up together like that.”

  Serena blushed at the mention of that night and she began to stammer, “I… I’m sorry. Devon and I nee—”

  Zane’s smile widened and he squeezed her hand, “No, I know, now! I understand, Serena! Devon possessed me—took control of my body so you two could have a physical moment—and, in doing so, you showed me—my body and the curse tied to my body—something that I’ve never had; something that the curse was never ‘programmed’ to understand!”

  Serena stared at him, blushing and smiling, “Then you…”

  He nodded, “I remember that night! Remember letting Devon in; letting him control us… because of how you looked at us. The curse was made to destroy and cause suffering! It was never supposed to get far enough with another to have what you gave us that night!” he beamed, “You—your love—is the reason you can control it! You are a cure to the rage!”

  She blushed, arching an eyebrow, “Oh? And what does that mean for us now? With me being a cure, and all?”

  He stared at her a moment longer and smiled, letting his hand trace over her cheek, “It means that, ri
ght now, I’m taking my first dose of a lifetime remedy!” His hand found her shoulder and pulled her into him once again, slamming his lips to hers and taking in all of her essence with a greater understanding of what it meant.

  Moaning, Serena lifted her chin more to match his efforts and deepened the kiss. Neither of them were used to giving in; had never backed down in a challenge, and it showed then and there. For every ounce of pressure one put in, the other matched and surpassed. Their combined efforts—a violent eruption of passion and desire and need—had them clawing each other’s clothes from their bodies in a mad-dash effort to rid themselves of anything that could come between them.

  As the last burden of fabric was cast away they began to worship every inch of the other’s skin; nipping at necks and kissing along the length of exposed shoulders and down further to flesh that, despite the rising heat, had become tight and puckered. Their senses were overwhelmed by the sound of their racing hearts and the torrents of blood coursing through veins and further fueling their mutual need.

  Serena groaned as his mouth paid homage to her heaving chest and she moved her hand along his side until she had his length throbbing in the palm of her hand. The sexual energies increased as their contact grew. Zane gasped at the feeling, his warm breath rushing over the lingering moisture his kisses had left on her chest and causing her to shiver and writhe beneath him.

  Not ready to give him his victory, she met his passion with her own; pumping her hand along her prize and biting her lip as she watched his face shift into a mask of ecstasy; the first bead of moisture surfacing against her palm and trailing back down its length.

  Refusing to succumb entirely to her skills, he countered her touch with his own; letting the fingertips of his right hand trace down her stomach and into her depths. Heat and moisture enveloped his advances and he felt his breath catch in his chest as he watched Serena’s face wash over with pleasure as she leaned her head back in a silent moan and exposed her throat in its entirety to him. And, though he ached to taste more of her—to take more of her into him—he was more driven, at that moment, to fill her with himself instead.

  No longer able to keep score over whose passion had tipped the scale, they offered one another a silent draw as their mouths found one another again and they became one.

  14

  Anticipation

  Nikki sighed as she watched the group finalize their plan against the Keith-vampire that had seemed to make quite an impression on all of them.

  Though she and the rest of her tribe had never had much direct business with The Council, she understood that there had long-since been a shaky truce between them and all Taroe, who—because of their practices and knowledge—posed a potential threat to the Mythos community’s secrecy, which, from what Nikki had gathered, was a key motivator to most of the laws they worked so hard to uphold. In this regard, however, she was in understanding, since her people had always thrived because of fact that they hid their activities from the humans. While there was nothing inherently inhuman about her or any other Taroe—who, though she hated to admit it, were still just humans with an advanced understanding of magic—their paranormal activities were enough to draw the attention of the supernatural creatures who valued secrecy and ambiguity as much as they did. Still, while The Council’s affairs had never directly impacted her, she was very aware of the power they wielded and what that power meant for every living being on the planet; human or Mythos.

  A power, it turned out, that Keith was using for selfish and vengeful purposes. And while she hardly considered herself an expert in the subject, it was worked into the minds of every Taroe youth that entered into adulthood with the tattooing rites that power of any kind should never be wielded in such ways.

  It was why the Maledictus curse had never been used before—or after—Zane had brought it down on himself.

  An act, ironically enough, that brought The Council down on their tribe.

  Just like the elders had warned; power wielded against somebody in anger will only bring anger back upon them.

  And though she was supportive of their goals, she could not will herself to be interested in the tedious planning process they were applying to it. As the group’s incessant banter cycled back and began again she tried to hold back a yawn.

  And failed.

  “Is something boring to you?” Serena asked, lifting her eyes to her.

  Nikki frowned as the attention of the room turned to her, “I just feel like you’re thinking about this way too much.”

  Serena frowned, “You’re saying we shouldn’t plan our approach?”

  “I’m not saying not to plan,” she offered, “So much as I’m saying you might not want to make your plans so rigid. You can plan for years on how to react to an attack from the front, but, if when the day comes to fight, you’re attacked from the side, then you wasted all that time and focus on something that didn’t allow for any adaptation. Furthermore, if you’re dealing with a perfect vampire—who can use his aura to read your thoughts and attack with the speed and strength of a sang—then would it really be in all of your best interests to walk in with everyone thinking the same thing?”

  A collective frown washed over the room as everyone realized that what she said was right. Though she had successfully shifted the judgment on her, she nevertheless resisted the urge to jump onto the table to do a victory dance, knowing that it would only serve to reverse what she’d just achieved.

  “So, what would you suggest then, Nikki?” Zane glared, stepping behind Serena and setting his hand on her shoulder.

  Nikki frowned and felt her chest tighten as the tension rose, but forced herself to shrug it off, “Well, I haven’t known any of you for very long, but I see no reason why you shouldn’t be able to handle yourselves using your natural abilities. It looks like you all understand the situation and how you want things to turn out, so why shouldn’t you all be able to do what’s come natural for so long?” She smirked, “Besides, it’s not like he or his followers can plan any more than you can, since both of you”—she nodded towards Serena and Zoey—“can ‘see’ their thoughts just as easily. Plus, and I hate to be the one to say this, but you do have your ace-in-the-hole.”

  Zane frowned at her, “And what would that be?”

  Nikki bit her lip as she watched him brace himself for what he knew was coming and she sighed, “You, Zane. If it gets too bad out there, Maledictus will do what it’s made to do.”

  A deep, rumbling growl started in Zane’s chest and made its way up his throat. Just before his lips had a chance to part to let it out, Serena’s hand raised and came to rest on his sternum, stifling his growing rage and muting the encroaching snarl in the process. Startled, he looked at her, uncertainty warping his enraged features.

  Serena smiled warmly at him and nodded, “They’re just tattoos, Zane. Don’t let them wear you.”

  Zane bit his lip, “But we can’t just—”

  Serena increased the pressure on his chest, “We will do whatever works for us.” She looked at Nikki and smiled, “I remember, when we were still young, playing in these woods with Keith. One of my favorite things to do was play a game called ‘stronghold’. Keith hated the game not only because he could never win, but because it was also the only thing I beat him in every time.” She leaned forward and nodded at Nikki, “Now, the rules of ‘stronghold’ were simple: we each built a small structure—our personal strongholds—with materials we found around the woods. We would pick different spots to build on to try and vary the outcome, but it never worked for Keith. You see, once we were finished building our strongholds, Keith got to send an auric blast at both of them. Just one blast against both structures—the same force against both of them—and the winner was whoever’s stronghold was the least destroyed.

  “What you just said about not relying on a single, reinforced plan reminds me a lot of why I always beat Keith. Even as a kid Keith was all about strength and rigidity—I swear he was born with a stick up his ass!
—but I knew that when his aura hit our strongholds, that if anything was too stiff, it would drag everything else with it. He could never figure out why his strongholds—which were built from the thicker, harder branches and always bound tighter and tighter and built taller and taller with each new game—toppled every time and mine—built with thinner and more flexible branches that I wove loosely in a pyramid shape—hardly shifted under the force of his aura.” She laughed, “He actually started throwing harder and harder blasts, and while he did start causing some damage to my stronghold, his would be demolished!”

  Zane looked over at her, “Serena?”

  She beamed brighter and nodded, “I like you, Nikki! You’re not afraid to call an entire room on their bullshit and prove them wrong in doing so. And, though he hates it, Zane’s situation can help us in a pinch. No matter how hard my asshole of a brother and his followers hit us, if we can hit him just as hard and be more flexible while doing it, then none of them will be left standing. My father once told me that what separates a good leader from a great leader lies between knowing you’re good enough and admitting when others are better.”

  Zane and the rest of the room stared at her in shock.

  Nikki blushed, “What are you saying?”

  Serena grinned up at her, “I’m saying that when we step out there to do what we need to do, I want you to lead us. I’m saying that I want you to be our general!”

  “Ah! It feels so good to have a place to work out again!” Nikki mused to herself as she stepped into the training room where a few of the therions of Isaac’s pack were weight-training. As she started to get settled in, however, their activities fizzled until they just stood and watched her begin to stretch with a little too much interest. Smiling at the attention, she turned to them and winked, “Sorry, boys. I’m still getting over my last therion lover.”

  They groaned and scowled as they moved on to other activities and Nikki smiled before she channeled her energies around her and began to throw her empowered punches and kicks into a reinforced punching bag.

 

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