Wrenching Fate

by Brooklyn Ann

  “No way,” Akasha breathed. “The football team? They hate you guys.”

  Xochitl nodded. “But the coach now loves us. The dude actually had tears in his eyes after we finished and started reminiscing with the art teacher about the concerts they’d been to. But here’s the best part: the team started up with their usual bullshit about us being freaks and fags and all that, but the coach whipped around in his seat and told them that if any of them messed with us again, they’d be off the team.”

  “No fucking way,” Akasha gaped. “I bet that didn’t go over well.”

  “Nah, and it might make it worse for us,” Xochitl said cheerfully. “But the looks on their faces was totally worth it. Too bad we can’t make the same happen with the cheerleaders and the Aryan nation wannabes. Anyway, I gotta thank Razvan big time for that. He’s a really awesome guy.” Her face lit up with adoration.

  As class began and the instructor lectured about Mark Twain, Akasha pondered Xochitl’s story. Razvan really was helping the band; there was no getting around it. Silas thought he was just feigning interest to mess with everyone, but it was beginning to appear genuine. But why? What would a thousand year old vampire do with a metal band? As they reached the Barracuda, she remembered a piece of her conversation with Razvan last night.

  “To deem you harmless, we need to know why you have your abilities and who is pursuing you. And as for your friend, Xochitl”

  “What about Xochitl?”

  “You mean you don’t know?”

  Her fist clenched and she had to concentrate on being careful opening the car door. Rage boiled within her. Razvan wasn’t the only one being secretive. It seemed Silas was as well, and whatever he was keeping from her had something to do with her best friend.

  ***

  Once the band was settled downstairs with Razvan, Akasha looked up at Silas. “Can we speak in private for a moment?”

  He cast a quick glance at Razvan before nodding. He was so beautiful, his eyes so tender. The thought of duplicity from him was all the more agonizing.

  Hands shaking, Akasha got a beer and sat in the dining room without turning on the lights. Her heart felt like it was clenched in a vise. If she had to choose between the man she loved and her best friend, it’d kill her.

  Silas’s dark form entered the room, his tantalizing masculine scent teasing her senses as he sat next to her. “What’s wrong, Akasha?”

  She took a drink of her beer, trying to wash down the lump in her throat. “What are you hiding from me about Xochitl?” she asked.

  His eyes glowed faintly in the darkness. “What do you mean?”

  Akasha sighed and avoided his gaze. “Look, Razvan’s been dropping all sorts of hints, and you even said something about his interest in her. Are you going to give her to him to be his ‘pet mortal’?” She made air quotes, voice dripping with derision at the term. “‘Cuz if you think for a minute I’m going to sit quietly and allow her to go to him, you got another thing coming. He may not completely be the monster I thought he was, but I’ll still beat the living shit out of you both if you try to fuck with her.”

  His shoulders were shaking. Was he crying? Then Silas threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, you are worried for your friend.” He pulled her into his arms. “I thought you were regretting what we did the other night.”

  “No, I don’t regret it.” She resisted the urge to rub her cheek on his shoulder and breathe in his scent. “Did you?”

  “No, lass. In fact,” he whispered against her ear, “I was hoping for more.”

  Akasha gasped in pleasure as he kissed her neck. Shit, she was getting distracted. She pulled away and grabbed her beer to put distance between them.

  “So what’s up with Xochitl then?” She fixed him with a glare, determined to get the truth.

  Silas sighed. “Xochitl is, well, she’s not human.”

  “What?” Akasha’s heart pounded. Really, with her own oddity and the craziness of these last few months, she shouldn’t be surprised…yet she still was. “Then what is she?”

  “I don’t know, but she emanates power of the likes I’ve never felt before.” Silas leaned forward. “Delgarias told me she’s the daughter of Mephistopheles, the creator of vampires. He commanded me to guard her.”

  She swallowed as she remembered the odd way Xochitl’s eyes changed color. “Don’t ask, don’t tell,” she’d said. Akasha hadn’t thought much of the incident until now.

  She looked up at him as she toyed with the tablecloth. “So she’s part undead?”

  “We’re not dead.” Silas’s brows knit in an offended frown.

  Her lips parted in surprise. “You’re not?”

  “No.” His voice was firm. “It’s a mutation, I suppose. Like yours, only with immortality and other major side effects.” He paused, giving her a strange, probing look. “Wait. You thought I was a walking corpse and you still love me?”

  Akasha nodded and brushed her lips across his, relieved that Silas didn’t intend any harm to Xochitl. “Though it’s nicer to know you’re alive. So, who’s Mephisto-whoever and where did vampires come from?”

  “Nobody really knows.” Now Silas fidgeted with the tablecloth. “The ancient ones speak of a legend of how the first vampires were created by the devil himself and cast out of hell because they refused to feed on innocents. Fallen demons rather than fallen angels. Razvan thinks it is romantic silliness, but Delgarias assures me the legends are true. As Delgarias is the oldest of us, I am inclined to believe him.”

  “Wow.” Akasha lit a cigarette as she digested the information. “So Xochitl is the daughter of Satan?”

  Silas shook his head. “I highly doubt Mephistopheles is the actual devil, more likely he’s a powerful being who exists in another world.”

  “You mean like an alternate dimension?” she asked in fascination. “How do you figure?”

  Silas took a deep breath. “When I Marked Xochitl at the concert, I was pulled into a vision. Whether it was a dream or a memory, I don’t know. She was in a world with two moons, walking in a garden of black roses. The roses were dying. A man approached her and cast me out. Dreams aren’t supposed to work that way. They’re not supposed to be real.” He shuddered and pulled her into his embrace.

  He was afraid. That scared the shit out of her. “So she’s like an alien? No wonder she’s so strange. She has no concept of fear, you know, and she talks to her car. And I swear, sometimes it seems like it answers her.”

  Silas laughed. “She talks to cats as well. That night her foster father hit her, she was surrounded by the little beasties, communing with them.”

  “Now I get why Isis listens to her so well.” Akasha had a thought. “What do you think she did that night to scare Bill and Susan so bad?”

  “She made a ball of flame appear in her hand and threatened to burn them.” His tone was rife with awe. “I used my Mark to mesmerize her long enough to get her to tell me. Her mind is strong, so I couldn’t hold her long.”

  Akasha sighed, struggling to digest all this new information. “So Razvan doesn’t want her? Are you sure? She’s so beautiful.”

  He caressed her cheek. “As are you, lass. However, neither Razvan nor I feel any lust for her. We feel drawn to her in a strange way, but not sexually, more like…” he frowned, fumbling for the word, “reverence for her. All I know is that she’s meant to be here, even if Delgarias hadn’t commanded me to guard her and the others. And her music… somehow that is meant to be as well.”

  Akasha nodded. “They are freakishly good. Is that why Razvan’s so interested in them? And what exactly are you supposed to guard them from? Do you think it’s that freaky lightning guy in your vision?”

  “I certainly hope not.” Silas toyed with her hair, making her fight to pay attention to his words. “As for Razvan, I wouldn’t worry about him making advances on Xochitl or the other two ladies.” He chuckled. “Or Beau, for that matter. Aside from them being underage, not only is it forbidden without my ex
press permission since I Marked them, but Razvan doesn’t dally with humans.”

  “Why not?” Akasha’s curiosity rose up despite her usual irritation with his maker.

  Silas shrugged. “Some of the old ones are like that. They prefer to only mate with other vampires. Razvan put it more crudely, though.”

  She chuckled. “I can imagine. Anyway,” she forced herself to focus back on the point of the conversation. “Xochitl and the band are safe from Razvan then?”

  “From him, yes,” he promised. “As for the Elders, Xochitl is more of an issue. We need to get as much information on her as possible for our report. We need to prove she’s not going to be a danger to our kind… but with the way vampires are attracted to her, it will be difficult. Perhaps that’s why I’m supposed to guard her. Though, for the record, I honestly believe Razvan is sincere about his admiration with their music.” Silas kissed her cheek and stood up as the music stopped downstairs. It was time for her friends to go home.

  “Wait, Silas?” Akasha hated the way her voice trembled. “Are you my boyfriend now?” It sounded stupid, but she had to ask.

  He chuckled and gave her a smile that made her belly flutter. “Do you want me to be?”

  A thrill rushed through her even as she tried to look nonchalant. “Sure. I guess so.”

  He pulled her into his arms and crushed her lips with his. She moaned and grabbed his ass, wanting him like a starving woman wanted cake. Someone coughed.

  They jumped apart to see Xochitl smirking at them from the doorway.

  Akasha looked at her friend, really looked at her this time. How could she have assumed Xochitl was human? Her skin was as smooth as airbrushed photos of supermodels…only it was real.

  Silas straightened his shirt. “I appreciate your discretion, Miss Leonine.”

  Xochitl inclined her head regally. Her eyes flickered burgundy and Akasha resisted the urge to step back. “Just know this, Silas. If you hurt her, I’ll kick your ass.” She did a kung-fu kick in the air and grinned. “So you’d better treat her good.”

  Silas smiled and gazed down at Akasha. “This is the second time tonight I’ve been threatened with bodily harm.”

  Razvan followed came upstairs with the rest of the band. “You four are going to be famous,” he was telling them.

  After they left, Silas looked at Razvan. “Would you leave us for awhile?”

  Razvan raised a brow. “I suppose. I need to feed anyway.”

  The moment he departed, Silas swept Akasha up in his arms and carried her up the stairs.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  The next weeks were happy but exhausting. Akasha found herself falling asleep in class from staying up late with Silas. They spent their evenings talking like new best friends and making love like newlyweds. He captivated her with his descriptions of life and war in Scotland in the 1500’s and nearly moved her to tears with the tale of King James IV.

  Hiding her love from her friends was a pain in the ass. She lost count of the times Sylvis and Aurora almost caught her sitting on Silas’s lap. And she could swear Beau saw them kissing once. It was a good thing she didn’t often wear lipstick.

  Eventually, the truth would come out, but Akasha would prefer it to happen after graduation.

  After a while, she fixed her routine better so she could spend time with Silas and keep up with school. And best of all, she finished restoring her Roadrunner.

  Akasha smiled as she remembered the almost orgasmic feeling when the 318 engine roared to life— and the hilarity of Silas’s terror when she broke it in. “Drive it like you stole it” was Max’s advice on the process and she had nearly turned the five hundred year-old vampire’s hair white as she sent them careening down the streets at break-neck speeds.

  Only one problem remained. Though the revelation of Silas’s lovemaking seemed to abate the nightmares of her past, the horrific dreams of reliving her rape still came, albeit infrequently. Silas took to accompanying her when she went to bed so that when she awoke screaming, he was there to hold her.

  “It’s all right, lass,” he’d whisper soothingly as he stroked her hair. “It will heal in time.”

  But Akasha didn’t want to wait any longer. It had been nearly four years for fuck’s sake! And her passionate nights with Silas proved she wasn’t screwed up sexually.

  Still, no matter how much beer she drank or how many times Silas brought her to climax in one night, the nightmare would catch her unawares. Suddenly, she would be bent over the Cadillac, pants around her ankles, hot metal burning her hands, cold gun metal pressed to the back of her skull, and the reeking rapist’s body tearing her apart.

  At a loss for what to do, Akasha decided to confide in Xochitl. Thankfully, her friend didn’t bat an eye at her request to talk privately during lunch. Although Rage of Angels was generally inseparable, the others didn’t seem to mind either and gave her encouraging smiles as they piled in Aurora’s van, leaving Xochitl to climb in the Roadrunner’s passenger seat.

  “You did an awesome job on this car, ‘Kash,” Xochitl said once they parked in front of a bookstore. “Almost as good as you did on Little Beast.”

  Akasha lit a cigarette and raised a brow. “The day your Datsun beats my Roadrunner is the day I quit wrenching.”

  “I dunno,” Xochitl grinned impishly. “I’m learning how to airbrush in art class and I’m gonna do some kick-ass flames on her.”

  “Flames on a station wagon?” Akasha laughed. “Have you been smoking Beau’s stash?”

  “She’s not a station wagon. She’s a hatchback hot rod.” Xochitl lifted her chin regally and lit her own cigarette. “Now what’s going on with you and Silas?” she asked, not missing a beat. “I assume that’s why you wanted to talk.”

  Akasha sighed. “Well, kinda. There’s nothing wrong with Silas. It’s just…me.” She frowned as she struggled for the words. This was harder than she imagined.

  “What do you mean?” Xochitl asked patiently.

  “Well,” Akasha looked down at her lap. “About four years ago…I…,” she swallowed before forcing the rest out. “I was raped.” The ugliness of the word loomed over her, making her choke.

  She closed her eyes to prepare for an embarrassing outpouring of sympathy and empty words of condolence.

  Instead, Xochitl’s voice was solemn. “I know. We’ve heard you cry out in your sleep a couple times…and the way you cried when you heard that Tori Amos song. We all wanted to say something, but I figured you’d talk about it when you were ready.”

  Akasha opened her eyes and cautiously met her friend’s gaze. Xochitl’s eyes suddenly seemed to belong to someone far older and wiser than those of a seventeen year old aspiring rock star. A strange shame filled her. She’d misjudged her friend yet again. After another awkward silence, the whole story poured out.

  “I thought making love with Silas would stop the dreams and it did, for awhile,” Akasha said, throat sore from fighting back tears. “But they still come once in awhile. Silas said to give it time, but I don’t want to. I just want them to stop!” Her fists clenched impotently.

  They sat for awhile in silence, smoking cigarettes, watching customers emerge from the store, arms laden with books, smiling in the March sunshine.

  Finally, Xochitl spoke. “What if you recreate parts of the dream, but in a good way?”

  “What do you mean?” Akasha’s eyes narrowed skeptically.

  Her friend’s honey brown gaze remained intent. “Well, you love Silas, right?”

  “Yeah…?”

  “And you love cars too.” At Akasha’s nod, Xochitl continued. “Well, maybe if you have Silas do you on your car, then later when you have the dream, you’ll think of him instead of the asshole rapist.” She paused and frowned. “Then again, maybe that’d backfire and you’d think of the asshole rapist instead of Silas and it could ruin your sex life.”

  Akasha imagined bending over the hood of the Roadrunner, feeling Silas’s warm breath on the back of her neck in
stead of a cold steel gun. She shivered as fear and excitement mixed within her body, turning her belly into a whirlpool of contradictory desires.

  “I think I’ll try it,” she said finally, managing a weak smile. “You know, Xoch’, for a virgin, you sure seem to know a lot about this kind of thing.”

  “What can I say? I read a lot of smut. Speaking of…” She nodded towards the book store. “Do you think we have time to go in and browse a bit?”

  “I killed that asshole rapist,” Akasha said quietly, astonished to finally say it aloud.

  Xochitl looked at her for a long time. There was no condemnation in her eyes, only fierce conviction. “Good.”

  ***

  The COAT agent removed the earpiece and looked at his partner. “We got her.”

  He flicked off the switches on the audio surveillance equipment. At last this espionage bullshit was over.

  Milbury had given them the girl’s name, background information and a vague description: “petite, black hair.”

  That was all.

  It took a week to narrow the search down to two possible candidates. The problem was that they were both petite and both had black hair. To make matters worse, they were inseparable.

  The agent followed them everywhere in his van, using his low budget equipment to listen in on their conversations —and Murphy’s Law seemed to dictate the equipment would fail when the two called each other by name— when he could catch them. Both drove as if they knew they were being tailed.

  Finally the curly-haired one told the purple-streaked one about killing a rapist. She must be Akasha. The agent pulled out his phone and sent the news to Milbury. Until his new orders were received, he would follow her.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Hours later, Akasha stood in the garage, wobbling unsteadily on the “fuck me” heels that Xochitl loaned her along with a faux fur coat. Between the space heater and the coat, she was warm enough despite the fact that she wore nothing beneath. For a moment she debated on whether or not to light some candles. Nah, it wouldn’t fit.