by Sydney Addae
She shrugged, unsure what was happening.
Her mam placed her hand on her shoulder. “Is this your mate?” She looked at Hawke, who hadn’t moved his hand from hers.
“Yes, Mam, this is Hawke.” She tilted her head in his direction.
Her mam smiled. “The Goddess has blessed you indeed. Hawke, I am Amynta. When we finish here, we will go someplace and talk. I know you have questions, I certainly do.” She placed a kiss on Asia’s cheek, warming her inside.
“I wish we could link,” she whispered to Amynta.
“Let’s try. Think of me and I will do the same.”
Asia stared at her mam, sharing her happiness at their meeting and hopes for their future. After a few moments she exhaled her disappointment. “I’m sorry.”
“Not to worry, little one. At the appropriate time the Goddess will allow our connection.” She cupped Asia’s cheek and smiled. “You are so beautiful. I couldn’t be prouder of you than I am of this moment. A den of your own.” She looked at Damian and winked. “And a grandson to spoil.”
Asia watched Damian smile and nod. “There is one other, Sarita, a little girl. She’s with my Mistress until we return.”
Amynta clapped her hands with joy. “How wonderful. I have something for her, a small chest.” She looked over her shoulder at Barticus and a few moments later he laughed.
“Whatever you want, we’ll do,” he said, coming to stand behind her and placed a kiss on her upturned cheek.
She grabbed Asia’s hand and stared into her eyes. “This… what we have, a den, pack, he can never take or destroy. Remember that. No one can take this from us.” She squeezed Asia’s hand as if pressing the words into her flesh.
Asia nodded and looked at the arch leading into the inner sanctuary. Someone was coming.
Chapter 27
Asia had never seen a god before and couldn’t see this one, not clearly. He resembled a floating, hazy outline of a large man. If the room didn’t shake and overhead lights didn’t blink in a haphazard fashion, she would have thought his appearance some type of illusion with mirrors or technical devices.
Barticus yelled and hit the ground. His head bowed in jerky movements like a puppet with an inexperienced puppet-master. Wind blew in the confined space, lifting her sire’s blond hair and shirt. His arms rose slowly above his head as if he were under arrest and then he bent forward. The grimace on his face said someone else controlled his movements with no concern for his comfort. A few moments later Barticus crawled on the floor as if dragged by his shirt toward the silent, floating image.
Her mam tried to follow, but hit some type of barrier.
A sharp tug in her back and legs surprised her. Is this what Barticus experienced? The pressure on her legs intensified, but she had command of her metal legs and refused to move. A wave of power flowed over her head, pushing her down. Her knees bent slightly.
“Love you, Asia. Merge with me, take my strength. We bow only to the Goddess and La Patron. They’ve earned our loyalty. Mistress and La Patron has saved you more than once, they are worthy for you to worship,” Hawke yelled.
Infused with the strength from Hawke’s words, she braced against the compulsion to kneel and remained upright.
The wind picked up speed whipping through the room, and lifted Amynta. She yelped. Her arms flailed as she tried to gain some type of control. “Goddess be praised,” she yelled, and was tossed into the barrier, where she bounced and then hit the stone ground.
Damian ran forward but couldn’t cross. Chest heaving, he watched helpless as she stood slowly and then offered a small nod in his direction.
The wind changed, organized and roared into a funnel as it crossed the floor, heading toward Asia. She waited until her hair lifted around her head, similar to her sire’s, and then jumped to the side, out of its way. Asia landed on the opposite side of her mam and moved quickly to check on her. When the funnel changed directions, she placed Amynta behind her while bouncing and jumping in place, prepared to leap to the other side of the room.
Amynta stepped beside her. Her eyes carried a clear message for Asia not to try and protect her.
“Think that thing will break the barrier?” Asia asked Hawke.
“Not sure. We can test it.”
She jumped toward Hawke, hit the barrier with a slight bounce and landed on her feet. Within seconds the mini-tornado encompassed her. Hawke’s arms wrapped around her through the obstacle, anchoring them together. The longer he held onto her, the funnel stretched and opened the hole in the barrier wider. Soon Hawke’s leg and front side were next to hers. They needed a few more seconds and he’d be in.
The funnel stopped. The barrier strengthened, pushing him out.
“Smart, quick-thinking, agile, all of my innate qualities. Come worship me,” the image said in a deep voice which pierced her skin like a hundred warm needles.
“I worship the Goddess.” She decided to get it out the way now rather than later. They didn’t need to chat, or swap stories, she wanted this over with.
“No. You worship Nicromja. I created you.” A wave of heat engulfed her as if she’d walked into a blazing fireplace. Her face and cheeks burned. Her breath came in gasps. Her metal arm and legs sizzled inside. She shook, unable to control her body.
“Asia,” Hawke said as a cool breeze flowed through their link, easing every part of her. The flame continued around her, but she no longer suffered.
“Thank you.” She looked at her mate and smiled.
He winked. The next second he flew backward and slammed against the exit door so hard it banged open.
Asia spun around and yelled. “Stop that.”
“Worship me.”
“I cannot. I worship the Goddess, alone. She created me, she saved me, she’s earned my worship, not you.” She watched Hawke stand and head toward her.
Barticus screamed.
Asia turned. Her heart dropped to her stomach. Her sire rolled on the ground as if under siege by an invisible swarm of scorpions. His face frozen in pain, unable to do more than move jerkily around on the floor. It hurt to watch him being toyed with for this bastard’s amusement. Tears leaked from her mam’s eyes as she watched her mate flop on the ground like a fish seeking water.
“Worship me or I will kill him.”
Asia stepped forward and kneeled. “If all you want are empty words, I’ll give them to you.”
Barticus lay still, gasping for air. She ached to touch him, to make sure he was alright, but the blurred image seemed a temperamental sort.
Her eyes narrowed as the form crystallized more, clarifying his features somewhat. Male, dark with long brown hair, tall, muscular, fairly regular looking. The moment that thought entered her mind, his eyes blazed like the sun.
Nothing regular about that.
A tingling sensation went through her body, it wasn’t painful but it was unpleasant knowing he examined her without her consent.
“Metal? Machine? You have been tampered with?” The displeasure in his tone sent waves of heat across her skin.
She wanted to tell him if he’d been on his job it wouldn’t have happened, but looking at her sire on the floor, she held her snide remark. Mistress had rubbed off on her.
“How did this happen?” He asked the High Priest.
Ira bent from the waist as he spoke. “I did not know of the metal.”
“Her legs, arm, are metal. Who tampered with my vessel?” The question bounced against the walls.
Ira trembled and bowed his head. “I do not know. I was unaware.”
A force she couldn’t combat lifted her chin. He’d become fuzzy again. “Who desecrated me in this manner?”
“The Liege.” She wondered if he’d destroy the rest of that group or give them a pass like the human governments did.
“Did they know you were my vessel?”
“Yes.”
Seconds passed as he examined her again, not as gently this time. Blood rolled down her chin from her nose and st
opped.
Amynta was dragged and thrown on the ground next to Barticus. Asia winced at the sound of flesh hitting the cobblestones, but her mam remained silent and tended her mate.
“Damaged, worthless. They are no good to me; find another vessel, like this one. We will start over.” Damian was dragged forward.
Asia jumped up, ran to Damian and grabbed his hand. “No. This is my pup. We serve the Goddess.”
Energy slammed into her mid-section, knocking her back against the wall. Dots floated in front of her eyes, she shook her head and stretched her jaw from side to side. That hurt. Moving slower, she grabbed Damian again in time to stop him from being taken. Hawke sent his energy and together they held onto the pup.
“This is my son, my pup, you have no rights to him. You cannot take what is not freely given,” Asia said, gritting her teeth as she pushed Damian behind her.
“You are right,” the image said, his voice scraping her raw as she backed Damian toward Hawke.
“But I do have rights over you and your sire.”
“No. Not me, I freely serve the Goddess. I never chose you.” The words flew from her mouth, she had no idea where they came from but they felt right as she walked toward her parents.
Amynta stood. “I never chose to serve you either. The Goddess has my loyalty and I serve her alone.”
Barticus raised his head, still unable to stand. “I denounce my service to you and embrace the Goddess, she alone I serve,” he said in a voice filled with pain.
“Since you all want to serve her, you are of no use to me or my temple. Kill them.” He told Ira, and then he spoke directly to the High Priest. “You have wasted my time and I will not return unless… kill these three and find other specimens like those two.” He pointed in Hawke’s direction. “Do not call me again until you have found someone worthy to challenge the Goddess’ champion. I will not be summoned for useless, unworthy vessels like these again.” He disappeared.
A few seconds later a sword with a jewel encrusted handle clattered on the ground. Ira ran forward and picked it up. The moment his hand wrapped around the hilt his entire posture changed. His eyes glowed as if a white, low grade bulb switched on. The muscles on his arm increased with each passing second. A look of sheer wonder was soon replaced by the sneer on his face when he faced them.
“Barticus, I hoped it never came to this, but I must serve my Master in all things. If you prefer, I will kill you first to spare you from witnessing the death of your mate and pup.” He tossed the sword from hand to hand and then moved in their direction.
Asia cursed the fact her sword lay in the trunk of their car in the forest. She jumped in front of her sire and then leapt again, flipping over the High Priest’s head like a gold medal gymnast, before landing in the inner sanctuary.
The High Priest looked over his shoulder. “Oh… you wish to be first? What about your pup? Your mate? You would have them witness your blood on the blade?” He grinned, turning toward her.
Asia’s gaze flitted over the room looking for a weapon while backing away from him. Floor cushions, no. Candles, no help. Plaster statues, possibly.
The High priest moved toward her quickly and swung the blade. She jumped back, hit a standing statue, stepped aside and pushed it toward him. His eyes widened in panic as he moved to catch it before it hit the ground. With his attention diverted, she ran to the other side of the room searching for a spear or lance, something sharp to even the fight and found nothing. What kind of sanctuary didn’t have weapons, she thought.
Sword uplifted, he yelled as he ran toward her. She dashed in the opposite direction toward another statue. She’d break every one of these things if necessary.
“No,” he yelled as she pushed the plaster figure of some deity.
“You’re trying to kill me and you want me to fight fair? Fuck you.” She pushed harder until it moved from the platform and crashed.
“I’ll kill you, bitch. I’ll kill you,” he yelled, swinging the sword. The breeze grazed her cheek as it passed by. The forward momentum caused him to stumble backward. She ran up the aisle and out the sanctuary where her mam held her sire in her arms. They looked up when she burst through the door.
“I need a weapon,” she yelled, hearing the High Priest behind her.
“Desecrater! Heathen,” Ira yelled with blood lust in his eyes as he rushed toward her. She looked around the space, grabbed a ceramic planter and threw it at his head. He knocked it aside before it landed.
“Death is too good for you,” he said and looked at Amynta.
Asia’s heart dropped. No, she screamed in her mind, unable to speak as the horror of the moment clutched her in its grip. Barticus jumped in front of his mate, but Amynta pushed him to the side as she faced the enraged priest.
“This is all your fault. You corrupted him and gave the vessel to murderers,” he yelled and swung the sword.
Asia couldn’t move, couldn’t shout a warning, couldn’t close her eyes. Amynta dropped to the ground in the most graceful split Asia had ever seen, rolled forward and kicked Ira between the legs.
He screamed and dropped the sword.
Amynta picked it up and dropped it. The smell of burning flesh filled the room. Liberated by the sight of her mam in pain, Asia rushed to her side, pulling her backward. Even now, Ira was recovering and held the sword.
“I will kill you all,” Ira said, looking at the three of them. She noticed he wouldn’t look at her sire for long periods and hoped in the end he might spare him.
“I wish we could talk to each other,” Asia said to her mam in her mind while watching the High Priest.
“Goddess be praised, I heard you,” her mam said.
“Divide his attention. Asia, continue to throw pots at him from the right. Have Amynta get as many kicks and punches in from the left as possible when he isn’t looking. The sword gives him strength and courage, but he’s no fighter. You can beat him,” Hawke said the words she needed to hear.
Asia ran to the right where a row of large ceramic pots, filled with various flowers, lined the walkway. She picked up the first one and threw it using the extra power of her metalized right hand. It whistled through the air and slammed into his chest.
The High Priest stumbled back a bit and grabbed Amynta instead of going after her as she planned. He plunged the blade into Amynta’s chest, twisted it and pulled it out. Blood poured from the gaping wound, the sight paralyzed Asia. He tossed her aside and grabbed Barticus.
“No,” Asia yelled and hit the right side of his head with the ceramic pot. And then another. The tip of the blade pierced Barticus’ side. In his weakened state, his punches lacked the power necessary to break free of Ira’s enhanced condition.
Asia picked up two pots, threw them with the power of a pistol shot, one after the other. Ira dropped her sire and headed toward her with a feral gleam. She spared her parents a glance. Barticus covered his bleeding side and crawled to her mam who lay unmoving nearby.
With a roar and crazed light in his eyes, Ira chased her around the space, cursing and predicting her immediate demise at his hand. She refused to allow his prophecies to materialize and pushed over every statue in the outer court. He didn’t slow or stop.
Asia looked over her shoulder at the mess she created, broken plaster lay all over the courtyard. What now? She glanced at Hawke.
“Shift.”
She shifted to her largest size and prepared to meet him. Ira swung. She dodged and clipped him on the head. He growled and morphed to a large hybrid. “Now you die.”
Pulling on Hawke’s skill and knowledge, in addition to her own she prepared to fight for her life and the lives of her parents.
Ira moved forward, watching her. He led to the right with the sword. She parried, the blade inches from her midsection, jumped and kicked toward his face. He moved back and she fell to the floor.
He swung the blade, intent on taking her head. She rolled to the opposite side, hearing the blade sing above her. Standing,
she kicked him in the knee and jumped back as he buckled but didn’t fall. He reached for her. She moved and hit the wall. How’d she allow that to happen? Ira grinned and stalked toward her. Her chest heaved as she gulped air, waiting for the right moment to strike.
He swung in a downward motion. The tip of the sword hit the wall. She rolled away, leaned against the wall and kicked him beneath the jaw. He flew backward. The sword clattered on the ground.
Barticus picked up the weapon. His body shook as his eyes widened. “No,” he whispered as the High Priest looked up and then dropped his head chuckling.
“Finally, you’re holding your birthright. How does it feel?” The high priest tried to stand, fell back down. Inhaled, exhaled, and then stood, brushed off his clothes while returning to his normal size.
Asia watched Barticus fight for control.
Amynta’s face tightened in pain as she sat up, reaching for Asia. “Join with me, he needs us.” Together, they poured love, kindness and understanding through Amynta’s link. Asia’s face heated as her mam shared intimate moments with her mate, reminding him of their life and love. Minutes ticked by as they sent images, spoke words and fought to keep him from choosing the power of the sword.
Barticus growled. His eyes glowed an eerie, light blue color she had never seen before.
“We need more. That thing has a tight grip on him,” Amynta said, sounding afraid as she stared at her mate.
“Mistress, I need you.”
“What do you need?” Jasmine said.
“My sire needs to understand what he will lose if he gives in to the power of Nicromja.”
“Family,” Jasmine said. The next moment images of Sarita laughing and playing with the other kids flew down the link.
“That’s your granddaughter, Sarita,” Asia told him, sharing the images with Hawke as well as her sire. “She wants to meet you, play with you.” She sent other images of Hawke, Damian and their family. “We all need you. Don’t leave us again.” Love, warmth and images of family, Jasmine’s and Asia, looped through the open link.