The opened door revealed a small room with a Wayuu woman no more than a few years Mariah’s elder, dressed for traveling. Near her on the floor lay a travel pack and some food. She looked up at them, her heartbeat speaking of nervousness and her face of excitement.
“Ah, my dear, you are sure you wish to leave us?” he asked in her tongue. She nodded solemnly, relief in her face. Sophus continued, stepping toward her. “We will all miss you, you know.”
“I shall miss you, Lord Sophus,” she said, lowering her eyes and blushing as Sophus caressed her cheek. She glared at Mariah. “What is she doing here?”
Sophus turned to Mariah and grinned. Faster than the girl could possibly have seen, he moved to shut the door with a solid, ominous thud. He returned to stand before the girl whose eyes darted from the door back to Sophus, nervousness growing in her eyes. He again caressed her neck before he spoke. “She is here to help me send you on your way.”
Sliding his hand around the back of her neck, Sophus swept down on the unfortunate girl, his hand muffling her startled scream. Shocked, Mariah tried to look the other way as he bit her neck and began sucking at the woman’s lifeblood. She tried to resist, but the scent of the fresh blood was intoxicating.
Mariah couldn’t help but watch with a dazed fascination, though she had no intention of being a part of this murder. However, as she watched, a voice in her mind, that predator part of herself, wheedled its way into her stunned thoughts. This is necessary for our protection, the voice whispered. She fought the rising bloodlust, but the voice slowly reasoned her into tolerating it. She should accept it. Everyone who’s thought it through knows no one leaves here alive. The girl must have known what was coming. She should join it. It would be a shame to let good blood go to waste. Finally, she lost herself in it. This is what I was made for.
***
Elisa stood beside a scraggly tree that had struggled worthlessly for years to grow in the parched earth. Though the night was moonless, her keen eyes could make out the shadows the starlight cast about her on the ground. She glanced up at the heavens. Sometimes, if she was still enough, she could swear she could see even the stars move in the sky, dancing and sparkling through the void.
They do move, Theron said, his voice caressing her mind. Elisa closed her eyes and soaked in the feel of his touch.
Not just across the night sky, then? she asked.
Not just across the sky, but across each other. We will watch sometime, just you and I, and I will show you. But not tonight. Tonight you have work to do. Elisa opened her eyes and nodded at the gentle reminder. Tonight she was hunting. She had gone hunting with Miguel before, but tonight was special. Tonight she hunted alone.
“Remember that you mustn’t use well-trafficked routes,” Miguel had admonished her before she left. “If people do not feel safe traveling them, they may choose different routes, or travel only during the day. It is by choosing the way of least resistance that makes men and rivers crooked.”
“But I am a woman,” Elisa had teased. She supposed she understood why he didn’t want her hunting the larger roads, though she couldn’t fathom how one or two missing travelers would make any difference. Really, it was Theron who had decided her. He agreed with Miguel, and so she obeyed.
She had searched the area, looking for a place she could wait, watching for a traveler or hoping for the breeze to bring her a scent. The tree was as likely a place as any, and it stood downwind from a less used, but still popular, crossroads. Finally, she heard the sounds of travelers approaching.
What can you tell from their gait? Theron prodded.
It is slow; they’re in no hurry? Elisa responded.
If they were in no hurry, why would they be traveling so late into such a dark night?
Elisa puzzled on it for a minute, but could not come up with a reason.
They are weary, Theron answered for her. They will make for easy prey, too easy for your first kill. Wait for something better.
Elisa wanted to whine that she was tired of waiting, that she was bored and worst of all, she was thirsty. It had been days since Miguel had brought home his last catch, and that was a sickly old man whose blood had tasted foul. Not that it had stopped Elisa, of course. While Miguel no longer needed to physically restrain Elisa while Theron took the first blood, she still had to fight herself for control as she waited. But this would be different. Tonight the kill would be all hers. She wouldn’t need to share, wouldn’t need to wait. The thought of it excited her, and she held back a groan as her throat constricted with the desire for blood.
She could smell the blood of the travelers, even hear it moving throughout their bodies now. She could almost feel the heat rising from their tired, strained bodies. She crouched down. No one would notice these two, she argued to herself. If I take just one of them …. Just a little snack ….
Wait, precious one, Theron advised again, stroking her mind. There will be something better.
His words helped settle her down and focus her mind. She could wait. She would wait. The travelers moved on. As Elisa resumed her vigil, she thought about Theron’s words. Something about them wasn’t right. He wanted her to wait for something better, but better than what? They were tired; they would be easy to catch. No, that was not it. Secrecy, then, perhaps? He wanted her to pick someone who was alone in case she slipped up?
You’ve found me out, Theron replied, amused.
I thought you trusted me, Elisa pouted.
I do trust you, my dear. I don’t trust the vampire within you. You’re still so young, and so very inexperienced.
I wouldn’t let the second one get away, she insisted.
You wouldn’t mean to, I know. However, I have known many who are new to this life, many young ones. For you the bloodlust is still too all-consuming. You would kill the first and be so taken in that the second would be long gone before you came to your senses.
I could track him, Elisa insisted.
No, Theron said firmly. Elisa wanted to obey, to acquiesce quietly and wait for the next traveler. Again, the small part of her in the back of her mind rebelled, whispering to her. What if there was another way?
She mulled the notion over. Theron was concerned about the second one seeing her, seeing his companion killed and escaping. She felt Theron confirm her suspicions.
What if he doesn’t see? she asked.
What do you have in mind? Theron’s curiosity was peaked.
What if one of them simply wandered off in the night, disappeared without a trace?
You think you could get him away without a trace? Theron was skeptical.
Absolutely, Elisa said, exuding all the confidence she could muster. The silence stretched as Theron considered it.
Without a trace, Theron finally agreed. Ecstatic, Elisa swept toward the crossroads to follow the travelers’ trail.
She found them just as they were bedding down. They hadn’t unpacked anything other than their bedrolls and some hard trail food for their supper. Both appeared to fall asleep instantly. Elisa waited, watching from the shadows, trying to push the constant, throbbing need for blood into the back of her mind. The soft breeze shifted the men’s scent away from her as she slowly approached. She watched one, adopting a façade of grief, and waited for him to wake under her gaze. His eyes opened slowly at first and popped open when he realized a woman stood before him. Startled, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, but as he did so, Elisa slipped back into the darkness out of his sight.
The man looked around, bewildered. His companion stirred but did not wake, and after mumbling to himself, the man lay back down. Confident now that the companion would not wake, Elisa returned to her victim and waited for him to open his eyes. When her gaze again woke the man, he tried not to move or alter his breathing, but Elisa could hear the slight change of his heartbeat, smell the scent of fear on him. His hand snapped out to catch her but no mortal was fast enough to take her by surprise, and she moved deftly out of the way. His hand closed on empty space, a
nd he started, seeing Elisa a few feet away.
Smiling on the inside, Elisa gave him a pleading look and beckoned him toward her. He hesitated, and glanced back to his companion. When his gaze returned to Elisa, she stood another few feet away, looking frightened and pleading, beckoning him more urgently. The man stood, transfixed by her beauty, and walked toward her. She maintained her distance from him, luring him away from his camp.
When they were out of sight of the camp, Elisa rushed him, clamping her hand over his neck to prevent noise. He choked quietly on his crushed throat as she lifted him off the ground and raced away.
He was weak but still clinging to life when Theron told her she had gone far enough, and she stopped to devour her prize.
Chapter 10
Mariah lay on the bed in her room, staring at the ceiling of the cave. She wasn’t sure why there was a bed; she never slept anymore. She had just never asked to have it removed. Sophus had a bed in one of his chambers as well. He never slept either; it was simply a part of what they were. Like the blood.
Mariah had not really thought through the implications of living on the blood of other people before now. They didn’t need to die. The animals didn’t die when they were bled; why did he need to kill the girl? On the other hand, Sophus controlled his world tightly, keeping it shrouded in mystery. If he just let people come and go as they pleased, he would lose what made the place a haven.
The sudden fear and nervousness that had come over the girl when Sophus had shut the door remained clear in her mind. She hadn’t wanted to die. She hadn’t expected it. She probably wasn’t prepared for it. Mariah shook her head — this was what she was now, and she needed to accept it. Didn’t she? Hadn’t she been surviving just fine on animal blood? But the fresh, warm human blood had been so amazingly tempting, so delicious, so consuming, so … right. Just the memory of it made Mariah’s throat burn for more and she struggled to bring her thoughts back under control. Mariah was torn — the drive was so strong, yet so wrong.
Did Miguel kill, too? What was he like, now? It had been so long since she’d seen him, talked to him, been with him. She wasn’t the same woman she had been; how could she expect that he had not changed too? But she still loved him. She loved him fiercely, perhaps more so than she had before. Would he still love her? And what about Elisa?
Mariah’s rage flared up at the thought of the lying little tramp. She lay with her fists clenched tight, fighting desperately against the urge to pulverize everything in her room. Mariah burned to lash out, to destroy something, to take her vengeance to the round cave and tear the other woman apart, and then burn her to ashes. Taking a deep breath, Mariah tried to suppress her fury. She would deal with Elisa, someday. As she seethed with her fists clenched and arms pressed tightly around herself, a knock came at the door.
Mariah took a couple more deep breaths, trying to refocus on what was before her. “Come in,” she said when she had calmed down enough to drop her arms and sit up. The door opened and Wuchii entered carrying a feather duster. The humor of it broke through Mariah’s remaining tension. “There isn’t a speck of dust in here. I can see stuff like that, you know.”
“Of course,” Wuchii said with a shrug, as she started dusting. “However, it becomes difficult to find a good excuse to visit you. You don’t eat alone, your clothes don’t get dirty much since you learned to drink properly, and you rarely bathe.”
“I’ll have to have you help me with my hair more often, I suppose,” Mariah laughed for a moment, then frowned. “I have a dress that should be cleaned, though I’d just as soon burn it. Unfortunately, it is one of Sophus’s favorites, and I’m not sure I could get away with it.” She scowled, gesturing over to a crumpled pile of pale green brocade on the floor.
Wuchii picked it up and shook it out, inspecting it. The front of the dress was covered in dried blood. “I see,” she said quietly. “Perhaps we should just burn it. I don’t believe we could save it.” Without waiting for Mariah’s approval, she wadded it up and flung it into the fireplace. Mariah could have stopped her easily, but found she didn’t want to. Instead, she just watched, relieved, as it turned to ash in the fire.
“Do you hate me now?” Mariah asked quietly. Wuchii walked across the room and sat on the bed beside her, laying a hand on her knee.
“How can I hate you for doing what you were made to do? I could not hate you for that any more than I can hate a cat for killing a bird; it is simply the way the world has been made.”
“But I killed the girl,” Mariah said, turning away.
“No, Sophus killed her,” a voice said from the doorway. Mariah recognized Iráma’s voice and scent as she closed the door and sat on her other side. “She killed herself, as did we all when we came here. Each of us gave up our lives for this. Lord Sophus has merely provided a way for us to live a peaceful, pleasant existence until we are truly ready to let go. The blood is the price we pay for it.”
Mariah stared down at her hands in silence. “It still doesn’t seem right.”
“He is gone,” Iráma confirmed when Wuchii sent a questioning glance over Mariah’s head.
“It is not right,” Wuchii said softly to Mariah. “That is why you are here, to stop him. Him and the other one, too. They prey on us and no one can stop them, except you.”
“But what could I possibly do to stop them?” Mariah shook her head slowly. “Even if I could somehow get rid of Theron and Sophus, I would remain, as would my husband. And ….” She paused, thinking of the hate-filled eyes that had watched her, of the dream where Miguel had searched for her and found Elisa. “And I think there is now a third as well. Even were I to destroy them, and Miguel and I left, eventually more would come. What is the point?”
“Freedom,” Iráma said emphatically. “If not for us, then for our children.”
Mariah looked up. “I didn’t know you’d had children.”
“I don’t speak of them much,” she said softly.
“Child, when was the last time you saw yours?” Wuchii asked, turning Mariah’s head toward her. Mariah gasped, her hand going to her flat stomach.
“What do you mean?” Mariah asked.
Iráma glanced at Wuchii, before giving Mariah a sympathetic look.
“You have more freedom than the rest of us put together. You can leave this place, leave your body and go anywhere, see anything,” Wuchii said gently, placing her hand over Mariah’s. “There is much you need to remember.”
Mariah’s mind reeled. She had a child? Her heart ached with longing, her arms with need. How could this have happened? How could I have forgotten? But now that she knew what she was searching for, perhaps she could find the truth. The thought calmed the turmoil that had buffeted her mind. With a sudden surge of unexpected hope, she threw her consciousness into the air and found herself in the flowering fields just west of Maracaibo.
***
“Elisa,” Miguel called as he came into the hall.
“A moment, Love,” she said, moving her chess piece. “I’ve just about finished this game.”
Miguel waited obediently beside the board as Theron instructed her on his next move. He was likable when he wanted to be. Elisa moved again. One more move to win ….
Miguel reached out and moved the final piece for Theron.
“Checkmate,” Theron said.
She clapped her hands in delight. “I didn’t even see that coming. You are always so full of surprises.”
“And I think Mikhael has one for you, my sweet one,” Theron returned with a kindly smile. Elisa rolled her eyes at the poisonous look Miguel gave him.
“Well, come on then. What is it?” she asked, putting her hand out expectantly. Miguel took it and helped her up.
“It’s outside,” Miguel said. “Come and see.”
She allowed him to lead her outside. She paused, disappointed at the lack of anything new in the fading light.
He laughed gently, and pulled at her hand. “Not here. It’s down by the bay.”
They slowed as the beach came into view. The boat wasn’t pulled up onto the sand as Miguel typically kept it, but in the water, tied to a makeshift dock. In fact, it looked like he’d gotten a different one.
“Well, what do you think of her?” he asked, his pride obvious.
“It’s a boat,” she said flatly. “And it’s ugly.”
“That’s only because she needs new paint. Come and see her.” He was as giddy as a schoolboy, so she humored him as he led her up onto the deck. “I traded in the old one. I figured I could fix her up and she’ll be a real beauty. What do you say? Should we take her out?”
With an internal sigh, Elisa gave him a winning smile. “Absolutely.”
He grinned and began preparations to cast off. The moment his back was turned, Elisa dropped her smile and began picking her way through the piles of rope and tarp and crates that littered the deck.
Is any of this the furniture I’ve been pestering you about? she asked Theron.
It could be. Look around a little bit more. You haven’t noticed the best part.
It’s a boat. How could there be a best part?
Theron chuckled and she rolled her eyes, but looked back over the deck. Miguel stood, powerful and handsome, at the helm as he harnessed the wind to move them out into the bay. She had to admit this boat was a bit roomier, and —
“Is that a door?” she asked, moving back toward it.
Miguel grinned, still looking at the horizon. “Sure is.”
“What’s inside?”
Aeonian Dreams (Zyanya Cycle Book 2) Page 9