Aeonian Dreams

by Morgan J. Muir

  Kasha’s smile faltered, her face falling into seriousness. When you remember, know that I hope you’ll forgive me. My time is ending, and I must wake soon. I will find you again.

  Wait, Mariah said, though she could see Kasha’s form begin to deteriorate. Do you know Miguel? Can you take me to him?

  Kasha hesitated, a look of concentration on her face and for a moment, she appeared more solid. I believe so … I will take you to where he is being held, but you must be careful to not get caught. It is dangerous there.

  The dream world blurred around them and became solid again in a dark cave that flickered intermittently with filth and death and barrenness. A miasma of darkness snaked throughout the chamber and Mariah dodged it, crying a warning to Kasha, who disappeared. Then she was alone.

  She dodged into a side chamber and waited, holding her breath as she waited for the danger to pass. Darkness waited for her just beyond, she could feel it, waiting like a cat waited for a bird. Mariah glanced around the chamber, looking for something that might help. A glint caught her eye, the color almost surreal against the darks and grays of the dream world in this place.

  With a glance back toward the doorway, Mariah edged over to the light. Atop a natural shelf lay a heap of bric-a-brac, and on one side sat a pendant. A sense of the rightness of it flowed through her, and she reached for it. Her fingers passed through it, however, a reminder that here she was just a ghost to the real world. The pendant was a pink stone in a triangular metal setting, a pendant obviously meant for a necklace. It was a stone that had been handed down from mother to daughter for generations. The memory of her closing Miguel’s hand around this very stone flashed through her mind. She had given it to him when they’d last parted. If it was here, then surely Miguel would be nearby.

  Moving instinctively, Mariah reached up to her own neck, willing the necklace to be there, remembering it as it had been when her father first gave it to her. The necklace appeared around her neck, and she pulled it off. It was as bright and beautiful as she remembered. With great care, she lay the spirit stone over the physical one, adjusting it until they lined up perfectly. Perhaps she was just being silly, but she still hoped.

  Miguel, let this be a connection between us, she said, touching the stones one last time. Exhausted, she felt her body pulling her mind back, dragging her away. As the room melted around her, hate-filled eyes glared out at her from the darkness. Elisa’s eyes. Mariah gave in to the pull and felt herself fall back into her body.

  ***

  Elisa fiddled with the vine in her hand, twining it around into a plait as she watched Miguel drag the last of the lumber to their new home. Well, her new home, at any rate, even if it was still a cave for now. With her vision of what it could be, Theron had allowed them to bring some semblance of civility to it. Perhaps, with this wood, she could have Miguel fashion some doors.

  Can you imagine doors here? she sent to Theron along with a picture of magnificent double doors, eight feet tall, opening into the entrance hall, with smooth stone floors and lush rugs, lit with torches in elaborate Gothic wall sconces.

  The walls are not structurally sound enough for such elegance, Theron said, sending her a feeling of warmth and approval nonetheless. Scale it back a bit and perhaps, in time, we could manage it.

  I have all the time in the world, Elisa said with a smile as Miguel dropped his load atop the pile he’d made earlier. He grinned at her and tossed the harness carelessly on the ground as he walked toward her.

  “You know, it would have gone faster if you’d helped.”

  “And dirty my dress?” she said, giving him a coquettish smile. “Whatever would I want to do that for? Have you any idea how tedious it is to do the wash?”

  “No more or less tedious than hauling this wood for you. It’s a long walk from the boat.” He leaned against the rock that she sat on and took the plait from her, inspecting it.

  Elisa pouted. “You don’t think it’ll be worth it, do you?”

  “I didn’t say that.” He rolled his shoulders as though they were stiff, and Elisa grinned. As if he could get sore. Elisa took it as an invitation to begin rubbing his shoulders and he turned his back to her obligingly.

  “You just don’t see the possibilities.” Feeling adventurous, she moved up his neck and began instead to run her fingers through his hair, unbinding his queue and letting it fall loose around his shoulders. “You should be more imaginative.”

  He turned toward her, his arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her to him. Her breath caught at feeling the full length of his strong body solid against her; she’d never been held like this before. His other hand traced up her back and to her neck. “I’m plenty imaginative,” he said, and drew her into a kiss.

  She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, bringing herself closer, as his hand on her neck moved up into her hair and removing her pins. “Hey,” she protested, pulling back just enough to break the kiss. “Do you have any idea how long it takes —”

  “Long enough,” he murmured, running his fingertips down her neck while his other hand slid farther down her back, and suddenly her hair didn’t matter that much. She twined her fingers through his silken hair and inhaled, enjoying the scent of salt and wood that lingered on him.

  Miguel moved his kiss to just below her ear while his hand traced down the low neckline of her dress. She could feel the lines and shapes of his body, and the newness of it all thrilled her. He moved with such surety, and she wanted to melt into him, allowing him to lead her through the steps of this new dance. She gasped as his hand cupped her breast and the other began to pull knowingly at the laces of her dress. It was clearly not his first time. But it was hers.

  It hit her like a kick in the gut. She had no idea what she was doing, and he would know it. She would do something wrong, say something wrong.

  “Miguel—” she murmured, pushing gently against his chest. What if she gave it away and he realized? He made a low sound in his throat that might have been words and continued.

  “Miguel, stop,” she said again, pushing harder. “Not here.”

  “Why not here?” he asked as he slid her sleeves off her shoulders. “There is no one to see.”

  Her panic turned to anger. “Are you just going to take me in the dirt? Is that all you think of me?” Elisa yanked her sleeves back into place on her shoulders, but Miguel didn’t let go fast enough, and the fabric tore. “And now you’ve ruined my dress, too. Honestly, Miguel, I’m your wife. Show me some respect.”

  She pushed him out of her way and stalked off, half-enjoying the thought of Mariah degraded and naked in the dirt, but furious at the thought of Miguel with her at all. Instead, she changed the image in her mind to one of ruffians and Mariah’s wanton leer to a look of terror. That satisfying image soothed her while she changed her clothes and inspected her dress, hoping it could be mended.

  What a hot little viper you are, my sweet, Theron said as she returned to the main hall.

  “Why, whatever do you mean?” she asked, taking a seat beside her mentor.

  “Don’t think I didn’t see that image you made. You were practically shouting it out.” He caressed her mind and she moved closer to him. “What are you going to do about Mikhael? You won’t be able to avoid him forever.”

  Elisa blushed and looked away. I don’t want to avoid him, I just … he is so sure. What if I embarrass myself?

  “You won’t, my dear. He’ll be dazzled by you, I’m sure.”

  Chapter 9

  Mariah opened her eyes. She remained sitting on the bed, the thirteen coins on her lap, as she had been when she left. She didn’t know how long she’d been gone. The time out of her body rarely coincided with the real time, and her body didn’t give her any clues. She was neither stiff nor uncomfortable, she wasn’t hungry, and her eyes never felt dry. She wondered, if she stayed still long enough, if she would collect dust. Probably, she thought with a grin. Sophus had warned her about dust in her eyes, and she determined that ne
xt time she would close her eyes before leaving her body. At the sound of the door opening, Mariah jumped to her feet, straightening out her rumpled dress. Sophus liked her to look impeccable, and life was easier for her if she humored him.

  Before she had finished straightening her dress, she recognized Wuchii, and let out a sigh. Her friend stepped in with a smile, carrying a cloth covered tray.

  “Ah, you have returned!” the older woman said. “See anything new and interesting today?”

  Mariah nodded solemnly as she answered lightly, “Nothing interesting, just more exploring.”

  “That is too bad,” Wuchii said with a shrug. Mariah liked Wuchii, and trusted her; there were precious few women who served in Sophus’s little domain who didn’t avoid Mariah, especially after the death.

  “How long was I gone?” she asked.

  “Not very long, less than a day this time,” the little woman responded cheerfully as she set the tray on a table.

  “If I were gone for a long time, do you think I would get dusty?” Mariah asked, glancing at the covered tray.

  “Absolutely not. I would be sure to come and dust you frequently,” she said with a firm nod, and they both burst out laughing. Wuchii gestured to the tray. “You’d best drink it while it’s warm.”

  “Of course.” Mariah nodded. The thought of something to drink made her throat contract and burn like fire. It always did, and each time was just as powerful and painful as the first. Though she still struggled to control the drive and ignore the pain, she was getting better. “And Wuchii? Thank you for always being willing to talk to me. It gets tiresome to have everyone in a room tremble or rush off when I enter.”

  “Bah, those others, half of them are afraid of you and the other half are jealous that Lord Sophus didn’t pick them,” Wuchii said as she walked out the door.

  “They should be afraid,” Mariah said quietly as the door shut behind her.

  Mariah lifted the cloth off the tray and the tang of the blood wafted up. She opened the lid to the pitcher and wrinkled her nose. Goat. Again. They’d had chicken a couple times, but that was downright nasty. She sighed and reminded herself that they had to be careful bleeding the animals and let them recuperate lest they get weak or sick, as everyone on their little community relied on them. On special occasions, Sophus would even have some of the women bleed themselves and add it to the mix, and there were plenty of the women who would volunteer for him. The fresh human blood was a heady addition to any meal. Not only did it add much-needed flavor, but she couldn’t deny the wonderful way she felt when she had it. But it was rare that he asked for it. It was a good system, Mariah supposed, but still she tired of the monotonous goat blood. We should get some sheep, just to mix things up a little.

  Mariah drank directly from the pitcher, loathing the work she would cause by dirtying the goblet that had been provided. The blood was already cooling and that made it even more unappealing, but she couldn’t deny her thirst once she’d begun. Despite her reservations, she did feel better afterwards. Mariah tossed the cloth back over the empty pitcher and looked herself over in the mirror, pleased that she had once again not spilled a single drop. Not making a mess had been a difficult skill to master, but she’d gone several weeks now without losing control as she fed. Sometimes it was the smallest things that pleased her the most.

  After her change, Sophus had ordered all but Iráma to avoid her, knowing that she would have killed them quickly, though unintentionally. As Mariah had grown stronger in her self-control, Sophus had allowed others of the living near her, but always under his supervision. Then, when he was content that she wouldn’t hurt any of his prized possessions, he let Mariah go her own way within his home.

  The other women had been curious at first; none had ever witnessed or even heard of Sophus changing anyone. Curiosity, however, quickly divided into fear and jealousy. Some feared that he would change them, too, turning them into the silvery-red-eyed, ferocious creature that they believed Mariah had become. Others saw only her extreme beauty and the attention that their gorgeous Lord Sophus lavished on her, and resented Mariah for taking what they believed should have, and would have, been theirs. The one she had accidentally killed had been one of the jealous ones.

  Sighing, Mariah set the tray gently outside her door. The lingering smell of blood was distracting, even if it was goat’s blood, and the sooner she got the dishes out of her room, the sooner the smell would dissipate. Once the door was shut, there were clumsy steps rushing up to remove the tray. Not Iráma, then; she was always graceful, and not Wuchii who never rushed. Mariah returned her coin pouch to the dresser and began brushing her hair, trying to think of an interesting new coiffure that she could manage herself. She was just finishing when the door opened. Sophus, of course. He was the only one who could walk by her door without being obvious.

  “I do so love it when you put your hair up,” he said as he came up behind her. “You have such a long, lovely neck. I have something for you.”

  Mariah watched in the mirror as Sophus smiled and produced a necklace as though from nothing. It was a slight-of-hand that he liked to do and that fact that she had not yet figured out how he did it amused him, so she always acted surprised. With exaggerated care he draped the elegant chain about her neck, running his fingers over her throat. He clasped the necklace and she struggled not to flinch away as his fingers trailed down her spine before pulling back.

  She bore his lingering touches only because she needed Sophus. Somehow, he was the key to being with Miguel again, but his persistence had begun to worry her. She had grown confident enough in her new body that she could leave and go her own way, but how could she find Miguel on her own? Though Kasha had taken her to that cave in the dream world, Mariah had no idea how to find it in the real one.

  There was no doubt in Mariah’s mind that the darkness she’d felt searching for her in her dream had been Theron, and Miguel was somehow under his control. She had to assume, as well, that if Miguel could have gotten away from him, he would have. Therefore, they would need to find a way to destroy Theron. But how did one destroy a vampire? She could remember a night around a fire, telling ghost stories, and Miguel saying that stabbing a vampire through the heart was enough. But then Sophus had indicated that nothing, really, could pierce their skin. It seemed that only a vampire could damage another vampire, and Mariah’s heart sank.

  Even if I could find Theron again, he’d no doubt have Miguel protecting him. New memories flashed through her mind, of Miguel teaching her to defend herself. They’d practiced shooting at first, then hand-to-hand combat, which had often ended in kissing. Mariah struggled to control her face as all the emotions associated with that time in her life hit her. One thought came through above the rest: she had never bested Miguel in a fight. Facing him directly would not be an option.

  “Are you all right, Mariah? Do you like it?” Sophus asked, cutting into Mariah’s thoughts.

  “Yes, sorry. It is just so lovely, and it triggered some new memories is all,” Mariah said, smiling as she looked at it. “I think it is wonderful. Gracias.” Truly, it was a lovely little trinket and Mariah wondered if he’d had it for a long time, stored in one of his myriad of hidden rooms, or if he’d bought it on one of his supply trips before he’d made her a vampire. “What is the occasion?”

  “You are, mi corazón. Do I need an occasion to gift you with things?”

  “It isn’t the gift, my lord. It’s your smile. You look smug as a cat in a bird cage,” Mariah said with amusement as she turned to face him. He really wasn’t too bad as long as he wasn’t touching her.

  Sophus affected a pout. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I am never smug.”

  “Well, if you have nothing planned, I suppose I’ll just have to go out again,” Mariah said, standing up to return to her favorite spot to meditate. Sophus put his hand on her arm to stop her.

  “I didn’t say I had no plans,” he said as he pulled her close to him. Before he had
a chance to wrap his arms around her slender waist, she twisted away.

  “You see, there is an occasion.” She tapped him lightly on the nose and gestured to the door. “After you.”

  Sophus grinned again and walked out of the room with Mariah following behind. He led her through the maze of tunnels, leading them to a rarely used section.

  “Did you find anything new on your search?” Sophus asked as they descended a flight of stairs.

  “I am not sure,” Mariah said, hesitating. “I think Theron may have another vampire with him now.” If she could get Sophus to help her free Miguel from Theron, the odds would be better with fewer immortals on Theron’s side. She remained reluctant to share the extent and limitations of her new skill. So far it seemed that he believed what she told him.

  “I believe I told you to stay clear of Theron,” he said flatly.

  “I’m afraid I still have very little control of where I go.” Mariah said, hoping to keep him from getting ruffled. “I’m not even certain it was him that I saw. It was more of a searching darkness that reached for me, but I managed to avoid it.” Mariah gave an involuntary shudder. “I don’t plan on going anywhere near there again.”

  Sophus nodded thoughtfully as he walked. “See that you do not.”

  They continued in silence until he stopped at a large wooden door, nearly as thick as the doors to their chambers. He turned to her before opening it.

  “I will be leaving soon for a day or so.” Sophus paused, waiting for her to say something.

  Fear seeped into her heart, and she opened her mouth to object as she again heard the sickening sound of the woman hitting the stone. No, she was better now. Had more control. She could do this. She nodded but didn’t say anything.

  With a satisfied smile he continued. “Before I go, however, there is a task we must see to. One of our dear family has decided she no longer wishes to reside with us. I have agreed to help her on her way. I thought you might be ready to assist me, as a sort of treat.” Sophus swept the door open as Mariah felt a shadow of foreboding fall over her.