“Dad, I don’t want you to be angry with Brandon. I’m the one who insisted we not say anything,” Sabrina started. She walked to the living room and sat down on the overstuffed leather couch. “You’re going to want to sit down for this. You, too, Brandon. Since I’m confessing, I might as well tell both of you at the same time.”
They gave her unhappy looks. Hadrian took the chair across from her. Brandon filled the empty space beside her.
“I started having odd dreams right after I was turned. It was nothing really, just a snippet or a flash of something out of place from the rest of the dream. I thought nothing of it and chalked it up to the stress of major life changes. Then, I started getting the feeling I was being watched any time I stayed in front of mirrors for more than a few minutes. I thought it was just paranoia after nearly being dragged through one by Diana. But the dreams have become more real. I feel it when I’ve been touched after I wake up. The reflection in the tray was the first time I’ve seen the whole figure, not a hand. I freaked. I’m so sorry,” Sabrina admitted.
Brandon looked hurt. Then, the look shifted from hurt to mad. She knew he would be, if he ever found out. It was a matter of trust.
Hadrian looked stoic. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He glanced at Brandon, giving him a hand signal to simmer down. Turning his attentions back to Sabrina, he simply placed his hands on the arms of the chair, patted them lightly a few times, and stood up without speaking. He walked out onto the open balcony.
“Brandon, I’m sorry—” she began.
He cut her off with a withering glare. He shook his head, placed a finger on his lips, and then pointed at Hadrian. The message came through loud and clear. Not now. Pay attention.
Hadrian pulled a cell phone from his pocket. His fingers flew across the keypad. A few moments passed with the little device at his ear. His entire demeanor changed from stoic to lively.
“Hello, Delilah! It’s good to hear your voice.” Pause. “Would you be a dear and visit me at your earliest possible convenience?” Another pause. “That would be fantastic. See you then.” He hung up.
Depositing the phone back in his pocket, he leaned on the railing. Without addressing either of them, he said, “Mea Dulcis, you’re in more trouble than you know. I suspect you’re being tracked. The question is by whom.”
Chapter 2
“Tracked?” Sabrina’s stomach clenched. Who would want her now? Being made vampire killed her magical, witch-like half. As the fangs grew in, her powers vanished.
Her mother passed on celestial light magic to Sabrina. Hadrian passed along his dark earth magic. The combination made Sabrina a tempting target for those ancient beings looking to return to their former glory on Earth. They needed a spindle to channel human energies devoted to the sun, the light, and the moon. The circumstances of her birth made Sabrina a natural tool for their deepest, darkest wishes to come true.
Diana, Goddess of the Moon, Queen of Witches, and Lucifer, God of Light, tried to kidnap her for their own personal uses. Diana actually pulled the I-am-your-grandmother card and nearly dragged Sabrina through a mirror to the Castle of Night on the moon. Hadrian, Brandon, and the demoness Delilah thwarted Diana’s attempt, banishing her from the apartment. Lucifer used a similar mirror trick. However, Eleanor and Aradia ensured he failed. They killed him to protect Sabrina in the future, as well as all mankind.
Sabrina asked Brandon to change her, to make her useless to the two remaining celestial ancients. She never again wanted to be a pawn in their game. The last six months felt perfect to her. The dreams were the only blemish on her new life, and, now, this evening’s incident.
She looked over at Brandon to see him shake his head, get up, and leave the room. His disappointment was like a dagger in her heart. She stood as if to follow him. Before she could, a clearing throat caught her attention.
“Maybe you should let him have his space. You know. Let him cool off before you try to explain or apologize,” a thin, weasel of a man said from the front door. Farrell usually dressed like a bad used cars salesman from the 70’s. Tonight, he dressed in a navy-blue suit, a very modern, solid, cream-colored dress shirt, and a multi-shaded, blue-striped tie.
Sabrina guessed he heard the exchange and waited to make his presence known. She ignored the rudeness. “You look nice tonight. Big date with Camilla?”
As a werewolf, Camilla’s nature made her territorial. Once, she had been obsessed with Brandon to the point of unhealthy jealous rage. Aunt Eleanor’s last gift as she lay dying was to take Camilla’s insanity and quiet the beast within. In that moment, Camilla found an inner peace. This opened her up to new possibilities. One of those possibilities went by the name of Farrell. They married a month after Sabrina and Brandon.
“You think so? Think she’ll like it? Went down to the department store and let the clerk put together a couple of outfits. You know. Something modern. I’m going to surprise her with a fancy dinner at that French place, La something. I can’t pronounce it right. I know it means the little pub or little inn or something like that,” he told her. The nervous tone his voice normally carried disappeared when he talked about his wife.
“I think that’s sweet, but surely you didn’t come here to ask my opinion,” Sabrina said, hoping to direct him back to his original train of thought.
“Oh yeah! There’s a visitor in the main street level lobby wanting to see Hadrian. She walked right through the wards like they weren’t there. First time I’ve seen that since they went up after…Well, you know,” Farrell said. The jittery edge came back. He took a step backward to the door.
Hadrian came back in from the balcony. “Does the visitor have a name?”
“Delilah from Cocytus. Said you invited her. Camilla called up to make sure she’s legit,” Farrell said, visibly uncomfortable talking to Hadrian.
Hadrian gave Farrell a reassuring smile. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Looking down as he sifted through the contents, he said, “You were right to ask. Please ask her to come up.”
“Yessir,” Farrell said so fast as to blur the words together. He started inching toward the door.
“And, Farrell?”
The small-framed man froze in place. He swallowed hard. “Yessir?”
Hadrian took out two, crisp one-hundred dollar bills and extended them in Farrell’s direction. He made a gesture to offer them like a tip to the messenger. “Take this. I know that place. You had to have saved for a month to afford this evening.”
Farrell’s shoulders relaxed, dropping several inches as they did. A bright smile stretched across his face. His fangs showed for the first time since his arrival. He took the money, shoving it into his pants pocket unceremoniously.
“Thanks!”
“Now, go on. Have a good time. That’s an order,” Hadrian said in a firm tone.
“Yes, sir!”
Farrell did not need telling twice. He turned and became a streak of navy and cream as he left. The entry door closed behind him in the wake of his wind.
“That was a really nice thing you did for him, Dad,” Sabrina said. She stepped to his side. Slipping her arm through the crook of his, she leaned her head against his massive upper arm.
He glanced down at her and then to the hall Brandon disappeared down. The serious look took over once more. He kissed the top of her head and maneuvered away from her.
“Mea Dulcis, you should have told us of these feelings the moment they started. Clearly, you didn’t tell Brandon everything, and now, he is unhappy with you. Trust is a delicate thing. It must be nurtured and cared for like a flower to maintain the bloom,” he admonished her gently.
“I know. I just didn’t want any of it to be real. I finally got my happily ever after with Prince Charming. Was it so wrong to not want my fairytale interrupted? Especially when I thought it was all in my head?”
She went back to the couch and flopped down hard. Covering her face with her hands, she leaned her head against the
back cushions and sighed heavily. Weight hit the cushion next to her, but the scent of the person seemed off but familiar. Sabrina knew it was not Brandon or Hadrian.
A forked tongue flicked across her lower earlobe, startling Sabrina. She jumped up and turned to face the owner of the raspy, dry, snake-like tongue. It took a moment for her to recognize the woman laughing at her.
“Mea Dulcis, I believe you met Delilah here a few months ago,” Hadrian said and sat down in the overstuffed chair he occupied earlier.
“Yesss, we’ve met,” Delilah hissed. “I believe you were on your way to visit Grandmama Diana. I do have to say, I liked you better in the towel, but the robe is nice, too.”
Sabrina gasped and stared at the woman.
Delilah’s pale, seafoam-green tinted skin and darker, sea-green lips seemed to glow against her bright, white vest and wide-legged pants. Only the super thin heels and the toes of her black, leather stilettos showed below the pants legs. She wore no shirt, allowing the deep, V-cut, sleeveless vest to show-off her large amount of cleavage and curvy figure. Glitter drew attention to the small, thin scales along her shoulders, her elbows, and the backs of her hands. Her waist-length, coarse, brown hair hung loose down her back. The sharp features of her face and the cat-like yellow-green eyes made her gleaming pointed teeth seem like a logical expectation. Her long, sharp nails were painted a metallic gold. A thick, ancient gold rope hung around her neck with a matching bracelet on her wrist.
The demoness slithered out her thin, dark-green tongue at Sabrina and reeled it back into her mouth. She gave a wicked smile and said, “Mmm. Tastes like sunshine, magic, and fear.”
Sabrina placed a hand at the bottom of her throat. She found herself clutching the top of her robe closed. The fabric wadded up between her fingers.
“Delilah, don’t mess with her. We have things to do,” Hadrian said, sounding bored.
Pouting her lower lip, Delilah sauntered over to him. She placed her hands on his chest and leaned against him. Tilting her head up to look at him, she purred, “What sort of things?”
He stepped away, nearly causing her to lose her balance. He steadied her and then let go. Sitting in his overstuffed chair, he motioned to the other open seats.
“Please, have a seat,” he offered.
Delilah gave him an amused smirk and took the center of the couch, stretching her arms along the back in either direction. It left nowhere on the couch Sabrina could sit without being touched. Seemingly pleased with herself, she turned her smirk to Sabrina.
“Well, aren’t you going to sit down?”
“I think I’ll just stand, if it’s all the same to you,” Sabrina said. She still held her robe closed. She removed her hand from her throat and slid it into her robe pocket, hoping to appear a little more casual.
“Delilah, attention this way, please. I need you to listen carefully and tell me if there is anything you can do to help,” Hadrian said in a firm, yet polite, tone.
The demoness turned her head and stared at him without blinking. Silence filled the air for almost a minute. Finally, she spoke.
“Well. Go on. I’m listening.” Still, she stared unblinkingly at him.
“Sabrina’s transformation apparently didn’t go as usual. Someone is visiting her in her sleep, touching her and leaving a mark or feeling when she wakes. This morning she saw a hooded figure in a reflective surface here in the apartment. I need you to tell me what is going on, if you can, and what can be done about it,” Hadrian said. He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. He seemed poised for her reply.
“This will take some thought,” Delilah confessed. “There isn’t a precedent for turning a demigoddess. She is an unknown variable to us all. I can tell you this. There is no way to completely eliminate what you are by becoming a vampire or any other supernatural creature of the Earth for that matter.”
“What does that mean?” Brandon asked. He stood between the dining area and the living room. He had changed into jeans and a tight, white, short-sleeved tee. He kept his eyes on Delilah.
Sabrina thrilled at his coming back. She knew he could hear everything said in the penthouse apartment, but she wanted the chance to tell him personally. Getting an explanation through a wall held little weight. She needed him to hear it in person, to accept her apology.
Delilah lifted herself off the couch with a great deal of grace, slinking her way to Brandon. She lightly ran her fingers up his left arm, across his broad shoulders, and back down his right arm as she circled around him. She repeated the circle. As she did, she began explaining. She maintained constant eye contact, breaking it only when she walked behind him.
“We are what we are. There is no magic above or below that can erase every trace of our true selves. Becoming a vampire turned you into something other than human, a hybrid of sorts. Not a full demon. For that, you would need to have been born one. But you have the traits without the key element, the ability to project and cast your magic.”
She flattened her palm out, replacing the light strokes with more contact from her hand. She gave him a knowing smile, flicked her tongue at him like a snake tasting the air, and pulled it back in her mouth. She inhaled deeply and let out a satisfied sigh.
“You smell of earth-bound death magic, a child of Lilith. It is who you are now. Beneath that is the real you. If I concentrate I can faintly taste it, the human that was. The salty sea air. Lingering traces of limestone from playing on the cliffs. The wine you carried as a boy. Familia Caesaris on Capri, perhaps? Mingled scents of sawdust, sweat, and wild, beast-like screams of gladiators. You went from the best potential job a slave could have to the Coliseum. Interesting.” She gave a sinister chuckle.
Brandon stood stock still. He stopped following her with his eyes and stared straight ahead. If he felt emotions about Delilah’s descriptions, he held them in check with a poker face.
“Enough, Delilah. I asked about Sabrina,” Hadrian reminded her. He raised his eyebrows and gestured for the demoness to join him.
“Quite right, Hadrian,” Delilah agreed.
She rolled her cat-like body to Sabrina and grasped both shoulders. The pale, seafoam-green scales chilled Sabrina’s skin so quickly it felt more like being burned. In a flash, she fell forward against a pair of large, firm breasts. The dark-green, snake-like tongue flicked out, stroking her neck. A pointed nose buried into her hair, taking a deep whiff. Suddenly she felt herself falling forward, her knees hitting the floor hard.
Delilah now stood several feet away. The confident, playful look vanished. She held an expression of bewilderment and disbelief.
“I don’t understand,” the demoness said. “It isn’t possible.”
“What isn’t possible?” Hadrian asked.
Delilah stood dumbfounded for a full two minutes. She flicked her tongue back out, tasting the air from Sabrina’s direction. She rolled the scent in her mouth for another minute.
“Delilah, I need you to tell me what you found,” Hadrian demanded.
She turned to face him fully and shook her head. She glanced between Sabrina, Hadrian, and Brandon several times. The cat-like, yellow-green eyes widened with wild fear. When Brandon started to take a step in her direction, she held up one finger in warning.
“Please, Delilah. Tell us what this is and what we can do to fix it,” Brandon requested in a polite, yet slightly desperate, tone.
“Fix it? I’m not sure this can be fixed. Sabrina isn’t being tracked or traced. She is being hunted. The celestial magic she was born with was suppressed, not eradicated. It’s not a faint trace of what she once was. The earth-bound death magic converted her. What we see and how she reacts is vampiric. Underneath is a demigoddess who attempted to cheat fate, to cheat death!” Delilah closed her eyes and hung her head.
“So did we. So did every vampire in the world. What makes her different?” Brandon asked.
“You and Hadrian and that sleazy car salesman that invited me up were all human. You died. Death magic
brought you back and tied your souls to a living state of death. It’s why you do not age, get sick, or bear children. Only the living can do those things,” she explained. Her gaze remained on her shoes.
“You didn’t answer his question. What makes my daughter different?”
Delilah seemed to ponder the question. For a second, it looked as if she were going to refuse to elaborate. Finally, her expression turned wistful as she looked at Hadrian.
“Sabrina was born of magic, willed into existence by a goddess’s love for her sterile mate. To do that, Aradia didn’t blend genetic material. She blended magical lines. Brandon didn’t kill anything. He only added to one part of her, giving her more earth-bound death. She entered the realm of the dead as a living soul and came back,” Delilah said. She sounded almost crestfallen.
Hadrian said nothing. He and Delilah locked eyes, but no one spoke. A pregnant silence filled the room.
Brandon broke the awful lull. “Meaning?”
“Meaning she is being hunted by death,” the demoness replied.
“Using mirrors and dreams? Death has hands and a robe?”
“Not the act of death, you foolish boy. Do I have to spell it out?” Delilah added with a huff of exasperation. She appeared not to want to say something aloud.
Hadrian supplied the answer before Delilah could say more.
“Thanatos.”
Chapter 3
Brandon and Hadrian stared at Delilah. Neither of them seemed to breathe. Hadrian swallowed hard. Brandon paled, having taken enough blood to give him a flush of color.
Delilah gave each of them an apologetic look and then turned to Sabrina. She opened her arms wide, taking large steps to cross the room to where Sabrina stood. Wrapping herself around the vampire, Delilah let out a plaintive sigh.
“You poor thing!” the demoness cried. “Of all the rotten luck.”
Sabrina wriggled free. Her robe loosened in the process. She quickly pulled her clothes back into place and retied the belt. Disheveled hair fell into her face. She blew the curls out of the way, raking her fingers through them and tucking them behind her ear.
The Jewel of Darkness [Celestial Jewels 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 2