by Asia Marquis
His home might have looked that way, once, too. Perhaps before his mother died. Now, however? One window was covered in egg yolk, and the rosebushes had been pulled up at some point recently. All of the windows were covered with a thick black fabric, and there were layers of protection magic that suggested he had to renew the spells often. Sabotage?
Terra said nothing as she stepped into Lance's home. The inside was bare, with only a couch in the living room. There were framed photos on the island in the kitchen, presumably as a makeshift shrine for his mother. Out of respect for the dead, she kept her distance. Witches don't mess with ancestral worship. Angering someone's ancestor was worse than angering someone still alive.
She wondered if his mother did something to shame their family. She wondered if he did, instead. Witches were incredibly spiritual, and often when one member of a family stepped out of line, all had to suffer. Terra considered asking if he needed money, but thought better of it. It was clear his pride was wounded. She wouldn't chip away at it even more.
“Sorry for the mess. I won't have the house much longer.” His eyes glistened, and she reached out to touch his elbow. He looked at her, then walked down the hallway, where she stood and waited for him as he opened a door to a bedroom.
He rummaged through a closet in the bedroom. It had a small bed, and the protection spells there were the strongest. This must be where he sleeps. How intimate. She blushed and looked away from the room.
“Here we go,” he grunts, pulling out a huge photo album. It was covered in blue lace to keep the dust off of it. “Let's go sit down, I'll show you.”
On the couch, he carefully pulled the lace off of the album and opened it. Lance flicked past a few pages, while Terra felt the closeness between them. Their hips were touching. She wanted to touch his hand.
“See?” He asked. “This is my mother, with yours. Mine is wearing that blue diamond.”
The photo was old and worn, but she could see clearly the features of her mother, reflected only in paintings in almost every upper class home. Photos were too worldly for the upper class, they preferred paintings imbued with magic.
Lance's mother, with straight black hair and a crooked smile, looked at the camera. Anai looked only at Lance's mother. The blue diamond hanged from Lance's mother's neck, somehow shining even through the photo.
“She's in fatigues,” Terra said, looking up at Lance. His eyebrows stitched together, his face turned away from hers. “Lance, she's wearing a Medal of Honor.” What did she do? She screamed in her head, her heart pounding. What did she do?!
“Yes, she was in the army. She was well respected.” His voice wavered, sunk with despair.
Terra shook her head, looking at the photo. She didn't want to be disrespectful, but she had to know the truth. “Lance, the Medal of Honor comes with conditional immortality. How did your mother die?”
Silence.
“The only way she could be dead is if she betrayed the crown. If she betrayed my mother.”
“She would never do that!” His hands were balled into fists. He stood, full of fury and rage and anguish. Terra sunk back into the couch, watching him. “She wouldn't! She loved your mother, she spoke fondly of her almost every day! I was there that night, Terra. I heard a man shouting at her! It couldn't have been her, he must have stolen her medal!”
She didn't want to tell him it would take incredibly strong magic to steal a medal from the owner. She didn't want to make things worse for him, and he probably already knew. He probably already knew that somehow, there was no way of getting around it, his mother committed treason. Terra wondered if he knew of her past as a spy, and if that played a role in her becoming a traitor. Did Lance's mother double cross Queen Anai?
He was the son of a traitor. Everything about his home was suddenly explained. Everything made sense. Terra thought about getting up and leaving, right then, but something stopped her. Something deep inside, the same thing that made her want to hold him, to comfort him. Maybe it was her intuition. Maybe it was something else. But she stayed.
The strangest thing, to her, was that she detected no lies in his speech.
“I believe you.” She did. She should be suspicious. She should be running out of his house, but everything within her told her to trust him, even if his mother was a traitor. That didn't mean that he was.
He stared at her, his eyes wide. And then he turned to face the wall, his arms crossed, and pressed his forehead against it. Just for a moment. Just for a few breaths, to calm down. “You're looking for your mom?” He asked, refusing to look at her. He sniffed away more tears.
She nodded. “Yes. To stop the coming war.”
“I'm going to help.” He held up a hand, stopping her from protesting. “I'm going to help, because I must. Because only your mother can clear my mother's name. Queen Anai will remove the curse that was put on my family, and I will finally know peace.”
Terra wanted to tell him to just drop it. There was too much at stake for her, and she knew that her trust in him was flimsy and based on nothing at all. But if he was telling the truth, and she believed he was, then there was a chilling fact that she couldn't overlook: there was someone with magic strong enough to destroy the bond of a Medal of Honor.
That sort of power was worse than anything the vampires could do. It could tear apart nations, perhaps even destroy or control the whole world.
The world suddenly felt more dangerous than ever before, and an ally might be good to have. She couldn't count on her sister or anyone else. Maybe a stranger was the only option.
“It could be dangerous,” she said, her final attempt to caution him. “Hell, I know for a fact it will be dangerous. I'm not exactly following the wishes of The Crown, and you have some enemies too. The world is not on our side.”
Lance nodded. “Look at me,” he said, gesturing at his dirty clothes, and then at his bare and falling apart home. “Look at all of this. I have nothing left. There is no life for me, unless I take this chance. Let me clear my name.”
She put her hand on his shoulder, staring into his eyes to try and understand what he might be feeling. His emotions seemed so vast, so strange to her. She grew up in a world devoid of depth. She found herself wanting to swim in him, in his essence.
Pulling her hand away, she broke the tie between them. He slumped back against the couch, sighing. She took a deep breath.
“So, you were kind of a dead end. Your mom was supposed to be able to help me find mine. What do we do now?”
“We summon the dead.”
The living room was emptied of the few pieces of furniture that was left in it. Terra swept the floors while Lance mixed salt and grave dirt into water, and used that to mop the floor. Once it was spiritually clean, though physically grimy, they both got on their hands and knees with chalk and drew out a large circle, surrounded by alchemical symbols, and then another circle around that.
Before she helped him clean the house, Terra went to the store and bought candles. All black. Calling the dead was a simple ritual, though things could go wrong easily. The complexity was in controlling the situation.
Black candles were powerful and amplified the magic in any spell where they were used, but they also warded against any malevolent entities that may wish to crash their séance.
“The floor needs to dry, and we have a few hours before midnight. Is there anything you want to do?” Lance asked, his eyes lingering on her face.
He looked like he wanted to do… something. She couldn't tell what, but it made her stomach flip.
“I'm wiped. Think I could take a nap on your bed?”
“Go ahead,” he said. She set her chalk down and left Lance to finish up the circle. She opened the door to his bedroom. The air smelled like him, and rosemary incense. A half-burned stick sat on the table next to his small bed, the burner sitting on top of a deck of tarot card.
His blanket was soft, and again it smelled like Lance. She buried her face into it, curious at how much she
enjoyed his smell. Frustrated with how much she enjoyed it, too.
She closed her eyes, but not for long. She felt the bed move, shift under the weight of Lance joining her.
“Uh,” he said, noticing her eyes open and watching him. “Sorry, I just… I don't want to sleep on my mom's bed, and the couch is upside down in her room.”
“No, it's fine. Just don't make fun of me if I snore.” She smiled, trying to lighten the mood.
He got under the blanket with her. His smell overwhelmed her. She wanted to turn away from the wall, to turn towards him and wrap her arms around him. She wanted it so badly, that after a few moments, she did. Her arms looped under his, around his chest and tightened. She felt his breathing push his ribs out. She felt his exhale. She felt his hair against her face. Every movement made her chest ache, her stomach flip more and more.
Lance turned to face Terra, and he cupped her face in his hands. There was nothing in her that resisted. His lips fell on hers, and it felt right. She pressed her lips against his, and it felt right.
She didn't want his lips to leave hers, ever. Lance no longer felt like a stranger, he felt like an old lover, like a comfort, like a long lost friend. His hands slid down her back, pulling her closer to him. Her leg wrapped over his hip, pulling him closer to her.
His breath was hot in her mouth. Her tongue was hot in his. She bit his bottom lip. Lance groaned, groping her butt. He kneaded the cheeks, and then slid his hand up her dress. He grabbed her breasts, brushing the rough skin on his hands against her nipples. She gasped into his mouth.
Terra pressed her hand against his crotch, feeling his hardness growing. She rubbed it from over the fabric, coaxing it to grow more and more. He swore, telling her how good it felt.
She undid his pants and slid her hand into his boxers. The tip of his cock was already wet with precum. Lance slid his hand down her panties. She was already wet, too.
At Terra slowly moved her hand up and down his meat, Lance pressed a finger against her entrance. She widened her legs. His finger popped in, and she hissed. It hurt, first, but then he put in a second finger and it felt good.
It felt so good.
She came quickly, grunting and shivering against him. He pulled her panties down, throwing them onto his floor, and pulled her on top of him. He lifted her dress over her head. It also fell to the floor.
Her breasts, in Lance's opinion, were perfect. They filled his hands just right. He wanted to feel them, always in his hands. He wanted no other hands to ever feel them. He felt suddenly jealous, possessive.
He pulled her down and sucked on her breasts, hard and with teeth. She sucked in air and pressed her pussy against him. His cock was hot as it hit her clitoris. She rubbed back and forth as Lance pinched and bit her nipples, until finally she lifted herself up and sat down on his manhood.
He entered her slowly. They both breathed hard, and sighed as the full length of his cock was swallowed within her. “Ride me,” he said. She obliged.
Terra's hips moved slowly at first. She enjoyed the movement, the moment, looking into his beautiful eyes as she fucked him. And then she moved faster, unable to control herself. She was driving them both to climax.
Lance grabbed her hips, helping her to move faster still, until they both screamed and orgasmed at once. His seed spilled inside of her, filling her.
Their arms and legs tangled together as they shifted again, laying next to each other. There was no awkwardness. There was only peace, until there was only sleep.
“Have you ever done this before?” Terra asked. She was nervous. She had only called the dead once before, and her sister had nearly died because of it, when they were only five. She was also nervous because the taste of Lance's lips was still on her mouth.
“Actually, calling the dead is why my mother got the Medal of Honor. It's a family tradition, and I was raised doing this.”
Terra breathed a sigh of relief, helping Lance to place the black candles around the circle. So that was how she acted as a spy. She wasn't infiltrating the vampire cities of France where she could be corrupted. She was speaking with the dead! There were three candles in the center of the circle, where the spirit would form if the ritual was done correctly.
She watched him, eyeing his behind as he bent over to bless each candle he placed on the ground. It was amazing to Terra that everything about the night, from the sex to this ritual, had felt so natural to her. She wondered if there was fate involved, but then chastised herself. Fate was always involved. It was rare that their lives were entirely their own.
“Alright, that's the last candle. Are you ready?” Lance wiped some wax on his hands onto his shirt. He grinned at her, and she grinned back.
“Hell yeah, let's do this.”
They sat in the circle, and Lance held his hands out to her. She grabbed them, and their arms formed a diamond around the three candles in the center of the circle. He closed her eyes, and so did she. They both silently repeated the prayer to call Elaninri Fleaas from her resting place, to join them for a few moments.
They waited, and there was nothing, until suddenly there was a scream. Terra jumped, and Lance's mouth fell open in horror as the flames grew and the apparition of his mother formed.
He was supposed to ask her where to go, what to look for, but his mouth wasn't moving. They didn't have long. Terra held his hands tight.
“Elaninri, where is Anai? Who stole your Medal of Honor?” Her eyes flicked to Lance. He was horrified.
There were only screams, ear piercing screams that drilled into one's heart.
“Where is Queen Anai? Who stole your Medal of Honor?” Terra repeated.
Finally, the apparition spoke through the scream. “Find The Great Sage!”
And the apparition was gone. Lance slumped forward as all the candles went dark. Terra broke the circle by wiping away the chalk with her bare foot and flicked the lights on to find him sobbing, his whole body shaking. “She's being punished even in death! She's being punished for something she didn't do!”
He turned his face up to her, tears falling from his chin. She ached, she ached everywhere, wanting, somehow, to heal his pain. Wanting to kiss his lips. Wanting to be his savior.
She didn't know how to comfort him, so she didn't. “Come on, you can mourn later. For now, we have to prepare. We have a mountain to climb.”
Terra took his hand and helped him up, pulling Lance into a tight embrace. They kissed until his tears stopped.
Chapter Three
Terra and Lance's faces were stinging and red from the cold. Neither were prepared for the steep climb up Varangoi Mountain, despite Terra insisting on buying warmer clothes and gear for both of them.
Lance had protested using her money, but she wouldn't let him say no. She felt responsible to him. Plus, he looked cute in the turtleneck sweater she gave him.
Her thoughts swirled with passions and emotions, things she kept to herself and some things she kept from herself. The way his fingers felt when they brushed a snowflake from her face, for instance, made her warm even in the frigid cold. The way his eyes watched her, ready to move if she fell on sharp rocks, made her feel safe. The way he touched her as he helped her up onto a ledge made her feel wanted, and left her wanting. Needing. Desiring.
While her mind was still focused on her mother, her heart was focused on him, and it confused her. If it came to a choice of finding Queen Anai, or keeping Lance alive and near her, which would she choose? Which would he want her to choose?
She wondered, too, if he had the same questions. Would he avenge his mother if it meant Terra must die?
She shuddered and continued walking on the path up the mountain. Jagged and broken, it wasn't a well-worn path. Few climbed Varangoi, the largest mountain of the Kylfing Mountain Range. This was for a few reasons.
One, the range stood between Mindren and France. France was the stronghold for Vampires, where they were more like a plague and nearly outnumbered humans. They still kept their existence s
ecret, but only barely, and only because they used slaves to keep their blood lust out of the public eye.
Just being that close to France was enough to keep most witches out of the mountains, but it was the people who inhabited the mountains that really scared them away. Feral vampires, bloodthirsty and often starving, lived in the caves carved eons ago by their stronger ancestors.
They were already halfway up the mountain, and fatigue was setting in for both of them. Chewing on rabbit jerky, Lance turned to Terra. “I think we should rest,” he said.
She looked around. There were no caves visible, though the feral vampires were more than capable of hiding themselves when they wanted to. “Okay, but only for a little while. I want to get about a mile higher before we settle in for the night.”
There was a crunch behind her, feet in the snow. Terra turned, looking for where it came from, but there was nothing there. Lance's eyes questioned her, but she just waved him off. They looked for a patch of dirt that wasn't covered in snow and set down their backpacks when she heard the crunch again.
“Did you hear that?” She asked, crouching low and looking around. She breathed a spell to improve her vision, but still saw nothing.
“No,” he said, but then cried out. Something had grabbed him. Terra sprung forward and then finally saw their attacker- a small vampire, a girl, who looked like she had been turned at thirteen. Her eyes were yellow and hungry, hungrier than even the homeless of Mindren ever looked.
Her mouth opened and she hissed, baring her teeth too near Lance's throat.
“Get away from him,” Terra commanded, her voice crackling with energy while she gathered energy to blast the girl away. She couldn't kill the vampire, but she could fight her. “Borte!” With her yell, the energy gathered into a ball and hit both Lance and the feral vampire, sending them sprawling. They didn't break apart, the vampire held him on the ground as she screamed and struggled.