Aeonian Dreams (Zyanya Cycle Book 2)

by Morgan J. Muir

  But first, she would follow him to Theron’s coven, to Miguel, and she would use his absence to gather as many pieces of the shattered vampire as she could. Then, she would find a way to destroy them both.

  She needed to find Kasha. Mariah knew now what future she wanted to see.

  Chapter 13

  Theron was in a good mood. Mikhael wasn’t quite sure if he should be relieved or worried as Theron gave him little more than passing concern. Perhaps Theron was allowing Elisa the same privilege. Mikhael and Elisa strolled along the dark beach, the sliver of moonlight and the stars in the clear sky giving them more than enough light.

  “You’re unusually quiet tonight,” Mikhael observed.

  “It is such a beautiful night, I didn’t want to disturb it,” Elisa said in her light, musical voice, stopping to look out over the waves. Mikhael followed her gaze and lost himself in the mesmerizing rhythm of the water, his mind rippling over his thoughts.

  It was a reprieve to have Theron occupied, and for the first time in a long, long time Mikhael allowed himself to wonder if it was possible to block the intruder out. He tensed reflexively, waiting for the backlash from his unwelcome guest, but when none was forthcoming he relaxed, forcing his mind to move on to other things.

  Elisa was beautiful in the moonlight and a good companion. Though he had been happy with her these several years, he always felt that something was missing. She was sweet and kind and loved him, but Mikhael couldn’t help but feel that there should be more. As though his world ought to shift every time he looked at her, yet it stubbornly did not. Instead, he felt love and caring and a protectiveness, but also, in the background, a poignant feeling of loss. What could it mean?

  Elisa had long since filled in most of the gaps in his memory, and everything fit. What she couldn’t tell him was what she didn’t know. His life before Maracaibo, what he did to support himself beyond working as an assistant to her father. Everything fit, yet when he went over it in his mind, the dark ghost would flit through the memories. The only explanation he could think of was that perhaps, before he had come to Maracaibo and met Elisa, he had loved another woman. It explained the sense of loss he felt every time he looked at his blond companion, and perhaps even the shadowy figure in his memory. He wondered if he would ever remember who she was, or if he even wanted to. Would she haunt him for the rest of his existence, always coming between him and the woman beside him?

  No, he concluded, whoever she was, I would never have left her. She must be dead, if she was ever even real. I must let her go and live the life I have now. But, despite how many times he told himself this, his mind always returned to the dark angel of his memories.

  “You’re brooding, Miguel,” Elisa said with a gentle smile, cutting through his thoughts. He loved the soft way she said his name. He suspected she knew where his mind had been. With whom it had been. She always knew.

  “Not anymore,” he said, flashing her a broad smile and drawing her to him. She reached up around his neck and, twining her fingers in his hair, pulled him down into a kiss. He pulled her closer and she pressed against him as he trailed his hand down her neck and over her chest, tracing along a delicate chain necklace. His hand came to rest on a pendant she had never worn before, tucked between her breasts.

  “What’s this?” he asked, pulling it out from under the dress between kisses.

  “Nothing,” she said, tucking it back and turning his face toward hers. He pulled away and looked down at her.

  “Where did you get that, Elisa? I didn’t get it for you,” he said, more interested in her refusal to tell him than in the object itself.

  “It’s just a necklace,” she purred, trying to distract him again.

  “Let me see it,” Mikhael said quietly, refusing to give in to Elisa’s advances.

  “Oh, fine! If you’re going to be that way about it,” Elisa said, her mood changing like quicksilver. She unclasped the chain and handed it to Mikhael, pouting. “Theron gave it to me. He said he didn’t have any use for such a precious thing, and that he thought it would be pretty on me.”

  Mikhael took the necklace cautiously by the thin gold chain and inspected it. The pendant was carved red stone set into a triangular, worked silver setting surrounded by a dozen tiny, glinting diamonds. There was something about the stone that drew him in. Gently he ran his fingers over the pendant, turning it over and examining it. The centerpiece appeared to be just a plain, though beautiful, red stone. However, to Mikhael, it felt as though it was the key to some mystery just waiting for him to solve. His attention turned back to Elisa, who was waiting impatiently for him to return it, but he found he did not want to part with it.

  “Are you done yet?” Elisa asked. Mikhael shrugged, tossing it back to her.

  “It’s not that great anyway,” he said, walking off.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, looking at it as she followed him.

  “I’m not sure where Theron picked it up. Probably some trinket of one of the natives. It’s cheaply made.”

  “But it is so beautiful,” Elisa said with a frown. “Like it ought to be an heirloom or some such thing. And there are diamonds in it.”

  “Elisa, do you really think anyone but the natives would put a dull red stone like that as a centerpiece to diamonds?” Mikhael shook his head. “No, they’re just bits of glass.”

  “Well, at least the metal is silver,” Elisa said defiantly. “Look at it again,” and she thrust the necklace back to Mikhael who took it and studied it carefully.

  “Nope. It’s just highly polished tin. Here, see?” Mikhael pointed to a random place on the silver, banking on Elisa seeing what she wanted to see. “The chain it is on is probably worth more than the whole thing put together.” He offered it back, but she waved it away.

  “I don’t want it,” she said in disgust, “but I will take the chain. I have better things to wear anyway.”

  Mikhael shrugged again, gave her the chain and tucked the pendant into his pocket. He grinned as he turned away, careful to not let Elisa see the triumph in his eyes.

  Mikhael had only had a day to ponder over the mystery of the red stone when suddenly Theron was back in his mind in force.

  Where are you?! Theron growled harshly. He saw Elisa jump simultaneously; he must have yelled at her as well.

  We’re coming, Mikhael responded quickly, bounding to his feet and rushing back toward the cave.

  We have a visitor; hurry up! Mikhael ignored Theron as he ran, conscious of Elisa right behind him as Theron ranted. I can’t believe you two didn’t notice him coming. You’re supposed to be watching out for visitors … Mikhael didn’t have to listen for very long as he slowed to a walk and came striding into Theron’s round, dark hall.

  “Ah, here they are now,” Theron said in a pleasant voice.

  “Yes, I remember the male.” Mikhael recognized the man standing beside Theron for the first time, looking him up and down, appraising him. “But the female is new. What a fine specimen, old friend. Almost as lovely as your first set.”

  “Indeed she is,” Theron agreed cordially. “And what of you? Have you acquired any new companions, or are you still torturing yourself with those mortal women?”

  “Neither, actually.” Mikhael remembered the blond man’s name; Sophus, he was called. Theron had sent Mikhael to visit him once, but he had been so pre-occupied during the time there that he hadn’t really paid attention to anything that had been said.

  “And what of the one with the scent of beauty that tortured my Mikhael here when last he came to visit?” Mikhael remembered that scent. It toyed with his mind like a seductress, and he roughly pushed it aside, trying to think instead of Elisa.

  “Sadly, she is no longer with me,” Sophus said, looking directly at Mikhael.

  “What a shame,” Theron said.

  What a relief, Mikhael thought.

  Theron chuckled. “I hope you enjoyed her thoroughly.”

  “She did not disappoint,” Sophus said
with a grin, still watching Mikhael. He turned his gaze back to Theron with the same smile. “Your manners are lacking, old friend. You have not yet introduced us.”

  “Of course, of course.” Theron smiled cordially but added somewhat sardonically, “You will have to forgive me for not standing, though.”

  “Naturally,” Sophus said graciously.

  Step forward, Mikhael, Theron ordered roughly, and Mikhael quickly obeyed, appreciative that he had been ordered rather than compelled. “This one you’ve met before. His name is Mikhael. I took your advice from the last time and sent him to fetch his wife. Sophus, meet Elisa.” Elisa stepped forward gracefully and curtsied, offering her hand, which Sophus took and kissed.

  “I don’t suppose you have come to return to me the rest of my body,” Theron asked as Sophus straightened.

  “With these two fine young bodies, what could you possibly want with a third?” Sophus asked, and Mikhael felt Theron growl in his mind. Mikhael tensed, prepared to fight him off if Theron should try to take over his body. “Alas, I am afraid not,” Sophus continued with a sigh. “I have come on somewhat more pressing matters.”

  “Of course you have,” Theron said dryly. “What is it this time?”

  “As it happens, I’m planning on stirring up some trouble, and I thought that you and your children would enjoy some fun.” Theron’s eyes lit up and Mikhael could feel Theron’s mind leap at the thought, diverting nearly all his attention to his old companion.

  “Why, Sophus, whatever did you have in mind?” Theron asked.

  Sophus’s smile was smug. “Though you have a great disdain for my well-balanced lifestyle, it is not without its merits. The last few years I have noticed a severe decrease in my income, and I believe it is time to replenish my stocks.” Theron gave a bored look to Sophus, who ignored it and continued on. “As I am certain you are aware, Theron, there have been a few skirmishes between the natives and the Europeans, and each has resulted in grand prizes for us both. Especially this last one.” Sophus cast a meaningful glance toward Mikhael and Elisa.

  “Indeed,” Theron said, leaning his head back against the wall and following Sophus’s gaze. “I can’t say you have left me wanting this time.”

  “I would never forget about you,” Sophus said, his words smooth as silk. “As I was saying, however, my results from the last rumpus I stirred up have finally run dry. So now, I have come to see if you and yours would care to assist me in arranging some more fun.”

  “Are you saying that you are the one who has started all three of the rebellions?” Mikhael asked, incredulous and, inexplicably, angry. Theron slammed his presence back into Mikhael’s mind so fiercely that Mikhael stumbled. You will speak when spoken to, slave! Theron’s grip on his mind was so tight that Mikhael could barely think, let alone move. Panic welled up inside of him as he realized that he was once again trapped. Controlled. Enslaved.

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw Elisa walk up to the two men, swaying her hips gently and exuding allure. She gently stroked Theron’s cheek and smiled at him. “I know he can be insolent, but don’t hurt him in front of our guest. You know how I feel about violence,” she said into his ear in a way that made Mikhael feel like a voyeur. Theron’s grip on Mikhael eased as he turned his attention more fully to Elisa. There was silence for a few moments while the two conversed, then Elisa sauntered back to Mikhael, pleased as a cat with feathers in her mouth.

  Sophus looked from Elisa to an oblivious Theron, then back again to Elisa. Elisa shot him a large smile, which he returned with a nod. Sophus began again, explaining to Theron about his plan.

  What just happened? Mikhael’s mind spun as Theron snickered at him from a distant part of his mind. Hatred welled up within Mikhael at the parasite in his mind. It was the epitome of no privacy, and he felt like a monkey trying to get at a fruit held just out of reach by a cruel boy. He had thought that Elisa loved him, and he had always felt that he loved her, always felt a fierce sense of protectiveness toward her. Yet she had just seduced his captor, her captor, without batting an eye, and the strangest part was that he hadn’t cared. He was relieved and thankful, naturally, but shouldn’t he have felt something more? He knew that he should have felt anger, jealousy, or at least irritation, but he didn’t.

  Is it normal not to care? He wondered, but immediately he knew that was not correct. He had felt all those feelings at one point or another throughout his strange second life. What then?

  Perhaps you don’t care about her as much as you thought you did, Theron taunted him. Mikhael scowled and, despite the temptation to storm out of the room, he stayed. Theron expected him to be nearby, just in case Sophus decided to be less than cordial. So, like the good little puppet he was, Mikhael stood still, forcing his mind into stillness, and waited for a time when he could work this out in relative peace.

  Mikhael and Elisa left within the day. Theron had sent Mikhael out for food beforehand, and Elisa had prepared things in the cave. The hunt had not provided any time for thinking, as Theron found too much pleasure in watching, and when Mikhael wasn’t careful, Theron would take over. The man’s killing drive was insanely strong, and it always left Mikhael disquieted.

  They’d left the entire kill for their master and departed without further delay. Elisa had actually packed a large trunk of clothes which she insisted on taking. She also insisted that Mikhael be the one to carry it. The trunk’s weight, which might have staggered him as a mortal, was a trifle now, but the trunk itself was still awkwardly large, and he found himself annoyed.

  “I think we should take the boat,” Elisa said loftily as she sauntered ahead of him.

  “Really? I thought we should walk the whole way,” Mikhael said shortly from behind the large trunk.

  “Both Sophus and Theron said we would need to be subtle, and I can’t do that in a dusty traveling dress, and neither can you,” she continued in the same tone. “It’s not just my things you’re carrying in there, you know,”

  “I could get by just fine with what I’m wearing.” He scowled as they reached the dock. Mikhael tossed the trunk in as Elisa walked around it, studying the faded paint.

  “You would think after so many years we’d have a better mode of transportation,” she said, regret coloring her voice as she stepped on board. Mikhael pushed the boat through the low tide and into deeper water before he pulled himself in, taking a soggy seat beside her. She cringed as her nice dress got wet and she stood up, glaring at him as he pulled off his water-logged boots.

  “I think it’s a fine little ship, and so did you when we got her. You should get that trunk of yours stowed away. We might have some bad weather and I’d hate for it to get lost overboard,” Mikhael said sweetly.

  “If it went over, I’d send you in after it,” Elisa countered hotly as she dragged the trunk into the hold below decks. “You and your miserable, wet clothes.”

  “What makes you think I’d go?” Mikhael asked, lying back on the deck and closing his eyes. He stretched out in the warm sunlight, content to let the wind and waves take the boat where they would until his clothes dried.

  “You’d do it for me, Miguel,” Elisa said in a sultry whisper right next to his ear. He raised an eyebrow at her, but didn’t open his eyes.

  “You’d have to be pretty convincing,” he said, refusing to give in to her charms, but enjoying the game all the same.

  What do you think you’re doing? Theron shouted in Mikhael’s mind. You’re wasting precious time. You can flirt all you want later. Get this thing on course now. Mikhael leapt to obey the angry voice in his head, every bit as irritated at Theron as Theron was at him.

  Mikhael had the rigging set and the ship moving along nicely in no time at all. He liked being out in the open water, though they were rarely out of sight of land. Elisa’s complaint about the ship had been unfounded; she was a sound, swift vessel and attracted far less notice farther out to sea than their small fishing boat would have. In fairness, she could use some new paint, tho
ugh. Perhaps he’d be able to purchase some in Maracaibo and start getting her refitted.

  “You look like a pirate standing there like that,” she commented. “A shiny pirate. You should wear something less conspicuous.”

  “I like what I’m wearing. It is comfortable,” he said, cringing at the crackling of the drying salt in the cloth. He liked the freedom he felt with the salty breeze tugging at his loose shirt and hair, and the warm sun on his skin.

  “You know Theron will be angry if we don’t remain inconspicuous,” she said, tossing him a jacket, hat, and gauntlets, which he put on grudgingly. “Don’t forget your shirt,” she said, wrapping a sash around his neck and doing up the laces of his still-damp shirt. He brushed her away with a scowl — enslaved on one hand and henpecked on the other. Sometimes he wondered which was worse.

  “Miguel, you’ve been in a horrid mood lately. What is going on?” Elisa asked, crossing her arms, determined to get an answer.

  “Aside from not being allowed to let my clothes dry? Nothing.”

  “Is it what happened the other day with Theron and Sophus?” she persisted. When Mikhael didn’t respond, she continued plaintively. “You know I only did it for you! I couldn’t stand to see him hurting you like that. Can’t you forgive me?”

  “You?” Mikhael asked, looking down at her. “You think I need to forgive you for that? I understand what you did, and I appreciate it. You don’t need my forgiveness.”

  “Theron then? Are you upset with him?” She looked up into his eyes and before he could respond she continued in a whisper, as though it would help. “You mustn’t be angry with him. You know what he’ll do if you try anything.”

  Mikhael laughed roughly, looking back toward the horizon. “I am always upset with Theron, and he knows it. No pleading from you will ever change that. But no, that is not the issue this time.” How does she do that? Mikhael wondered. He could never manage to keep things from her, she always wheedled what she wanted from him one way or another.