Empress Hiding

by Y. M. Roger

  One of the newly arriving guards from the barracks, a female named Verisse, ran to see about the guard that had initially been slammed into the crates – wooden containers whose hardware contents now lay scattered everywhere – the crate slats now mostly splintered lumber. When she first reached him, she thought he was breathing, but when she turned him over, she realized the movements had been from the chemical actions of the sircakerkele’s skin poison working its way through his body beneath his clothing. Verisse could not even recognize the face anymore – the poison had soaked into and exploded the flesh, but she could still hear his triacate howl from its absence in excruciating pain.

  Varisse knew she could not touch him for comfort, and, before she could think further about what to do, Guyanni pulled her abruptly away and, with a forceful blow delivered with all of the genrathe’s strength, mercifully beheaded the suffering being.

  Verisse sat back in shock – eyes darting between what was left of her friend and the muscular genrathe that only lingered for a moment before turning toward another of the spawned beasts with his self-acquired club. But, it was not long before her shock was overcome with the rage of her beast at the murder of one of their own. Verisse stood – battle blade in hand – and called in challenge to the nearest spawn – her wartrige’s roar mixing with her battle cry.

  A medium-sized sircakerkele was only too happy to oblige as it lunged at Verisse’s legs only to feel her blade across its face as the female soldier faded left. Turning around and back into the wicked serpent, Verisse led with her larger blade while striking with her extended knuckle spikes on the other hand. The creature screeched in pain as blood poured from the wound – Verisse’s wartrige roaring back through the soldier’s vocal chords – as the sircakerkele’s swift tail surprised the soldier, sweeping her off her feet and onto the ground. Verisse rolled and righted herself just as the tail came back for another swipe. The female soldier managed to lash another swipe along the sircakerkele’s tail as she barely avoided the striking head – the screech resulting from her wounding of the creature blowing across her face as she faded again.

  And her wartrige howled as the blood began to trickle from one of their ears as well.

  Nearby, the much larger original sircakerkele now faced Kilgar and the other once- kneeling guard as the two soldiers fought to stab and retreat from both the tail and the head. Kilgar tried to force his demercriere to keep an eye out for all of the creatures as he fought for the upper hand against this one – he had never had the greatest communication with his beast, but they had always worked well together in combat situations.

  Always.

  Fighting the pain in his head that seemed to radiate tremendously with his movements, Kilgar actually felt the idea rise from his beast.

  Ground them.

  With only a moment’s delay to jab at the assaulting beast and avoid its long-fanged strike, Kilgar commed the palace huntmaster, Tazirr.

  “Tehlike Tazirr!!” Kilgar hollered as he dodged the tail this time and placed a stab wound into it before quickly withdrawing his weapon – the large sircakerkele screeched again, causing Kilgar’s stance to waiver as the pain doubled in his head from the second rupture. He grunted defiantly into the comm, “All hunting nets, rope darts, and bolas to the hangar pad now! Kilg …”

  Before he could officially end the comm, his demercriere’s senses had him turning just in time to swipe at a smaller – although not substantially so …

  Holy kahrolasi godsfall! Were they growing?

  . . . sircakerkele as both he and his beast roared in pain at the disorientation that was beginning to set in as a result of the blood pouring from both ears.

  Seal the palace.

  Kilgar agreed.

  He commed Unisha as he stumbled back from another strike.

  “Tehlike Unisha!” Kilgar felt the beast begin to support them both – he could not keep this up much longer, “Seal the palace! No entrance or exit! Kill any unknown blonde female with red eyes! Confirm digital!”

  Unisha’s code flashed across the wrist comm display followed by two stars to indicate order received and compliance in process.

  Before Kilgar even had time to sigh in relief and plan further, he turned to see the large sircakerkele tail headed straight for their face. Suddenly, a fur-covered arm wrapped around his torso and yanked him down from behind. Landing on top of Guy, Kilgar watched as the tail sailed over them.

  In the blink of an eye, Guy had dragged Kilgar and tossed him behind a large crate – the genrathe clubbing the tail a number of times causing the deep crimson blood to spatter and the serpentine creature to screech incessantly.

  Kilgar stood and rushed the head of the sircakerkele of which Guyanni was bludgeoning the tail, the fan blade he wielded connecting fully with the serpent’s head whose attention was drawn by Guy’s attack. The blade’s contact was flat rather than cutting, and the creature only shook off the impact and readied to strike at Kilgar.

  But Kilgar felt the rush of adrenaline from his beast just as he reared his arms back in a full uppercut, slicing the sircakerkele’s head cleanly off – the demercriere’s roar mixing with his own with the exertion and resulting pain that killing blow had required on their part.

  Kilgar turned toward the continuing melee just in time to see Balstir and another guard take down another of the kahrolasi yilans – the creature’s frills having been mangled such that it was unable to right itself – one staked the tail to the ground with a blade while Balstir decapitated it. But the Captain’s celebration was short-lived when he tried to run forward to meet the approaching Tazirr, and his knees collapsed underneath him. His balance gone and his eyesight swimming, Kilgar raised his comm and snarled at Tazirr.

  “Ground them, Huntmaster,” Kilgar ground his teeth together as he fought off the darkness threatening at the edges of his visions as they watched their blood drizzle to the pavement when multiple shrieks filled the air, “No touch or slicing – just bring them down for decapitationnnnnn…..aaAAAHHH!”

  Kilgar tried to bite off the painful howl of his beast as he clasped his head with the excruciating pain it radiated – he did not want to distract his guards, but Balstir was already in front of him dropping down to turn his captain’s face up toward his. Kilgar saw Balstir’s lips move but the ground-shattering din that rang through his head over-shadowed any semblance of reason in the listening department.

  For him or for his beast.

  Kilgar tried to push him away, mumbling something about protecting himself as the demercriere growled a vicious warning, but Balstir ignored them both as he breathed heavily across his Captain’s face and ran his hands soothingly through Kilgar’s hair all the while displaying his hand to Kilgar’s nose and mouth to reassure the pained and injured beast that here was their friend – that he and the hydenna with whom they had wrestled and sparred many times were here to help. As the darkness coiled further around his vision, the last things Kilgar comprehended was the ground falling away from him, his beast calling him to rest, and the distinct aroma of Balstir’s uniform brushing against his face.

  Kilgar tried desperately to hold onto reality, but another deafening screech sent both him and his beast into full emotional as well as physical retreat – the pain unbearable as he felt consciousness pulled from them both.

  Rafal eyed his Chiyoto suspiciously – her nearly incoherent mumbling drawing both his and his beast’s attention – but his focus lingered there only for the briefest of moments before he turned back to Jaylis. The Black Captain’s presence had unhappily interrupted an evening that, up until this moment, had been filled with unhindered discussions and simple conversations in getting to know quite a bit more about each other.

  And doing nothing but solidify Rafal’s desire that Chiyoto would take him as her mate – there was no other outcome to any scenario he could conjure based on his growing knowledge of his Chiyoto and
her character. Thing was, he could tell that she harbored strong feelings about him as well – that he had become not only the one to whom she could cling, but the one by whom she wanted to be held.

  And he knew that her Runa would probably not be very happy – whatever she was. Because that was the one thing he had not been able to glean from their conversations: any information that would give him an inkling as to the identity of her predator alter-being. His Chiyoto was cunning at the art of conversational deception without so much as even letting a hint slip – of course, there was always the possibility that she and Runa were so closely knit due to their isolation that it was simply natural that they functioned seamlessly in keeping up their appearance. Yes, his Chiyoto was intelligent and wary, but she lingered near him, within reach, neither his occasional snarly comments nor the rumblings of his dangerous beast seemed to affect her or her Runa negatively. In fact, throughout the course of their conversations, Rafal found that she was drawn to him even more during those times when the situation – or, more specifically, when he – got a little tense – like now, with Jaylis.

  And, somewhere in those same conversations, Chiyoto and Runa had settled into an agreement of sorts – tense though it was – to give Rafal’s whole shioliah idea a chance – to “try it on for size and see how it fit” as it were. Of course, it had not been much of a choice for Chiyoto – Runa was the one that needed convincing. Simply Rafal’s nearness provided Chiyoto with a security not even her true nature with Runa had ever given her. It was a sense of wholeness – of belonging – of actually being needed and desired – all of which Chiyoto found she craved now more that anything even though she had never before known them in the “relational” sense.

  Runa was cautiously optimistic – even Rafal’s animal presence just over the veil gave her a sense that she, too, had never before experienced – the unique rhythm of his murmurs earlier had affected her on a scale that the dragoness was simply at a loss to explain.

  Just as she remained at a loss to explain Rafal’s confession of not only scenting but of actually feeling Chiyoto’s emotions against his skin as well as inside of him. Perhaps, in the passing of Junko and Shizu, Runa would find some wisdom in the knowledge she and Chiyoto would gain – perhaps when she was Empress and the universe was clearer – perhaps, then, she could explain these things.

  So, the protective dragoness would wait until then to be the one to break her Chiyoto’s heart – would wait until, if it be so, Chiyoto could clearly see for herself why Rafal needed to go – would wait and enjoy the maturing of her Chiyoto’s somewhat uncivilized traits that had been left too long to languish. Oh, yes, Runa had to admit that, amidst all of the uncertainty surrounding this relationship with Rafal, she certainly enjoyed the jealousy, the anger, the scheming, the passion, and all of the other emotions that Rafal had evoked in her Chiyoto. Because the annoyingly dominant and undeniably possessive Crowned Prince had been right about one very big thing: her Chiyoto’s heart now belonged to a Sadid, fully and completely.

  Yes, the brooding dragoness would wait to see if she, the Empress-to-be, would need to kill that Sadid – because death would be the only outcome if this shioliah idea did not work out in the end: the breaking of the male that broke her Treasure would be but the beginning of her retribution on this mortal world and, most assuredly, on the name of Sadid.

  And to godsfall with the rest of this entire realm – there was no justice here for the Blood-bornes anyway. Her almost certain death – after she took hundreds if not thousands with her – following the death of the line of Sadid would finally free the Blood-bornes and the Crimsons alike.

  Maybe the Crimsons alone could find some way of survival in this Makers-forsaken landscape without a ruler and without the Blood-bornes to fuel their self-induced, speciatic hatred. Runa laughed to herself at the insane thought – that would never happen, would it? She sharpened her talons together at the thought. No, the surviving Crimsons would probably find a reason to hate a portion of their own kind, and the same cycle of hatred and bigotry would begin again.

  Runa huffed in resignation at her own thoughts as she listened disdainfully to the words that fell from the annoying one called Jaylis’ mouth – reveling all the while at the emotions of malice and distaste that flowed through her Chiyoto simply because of the Black Guard Captain’s presence standing at her and Rafal’s table.

  “It was disturbing in that the shuttle hakim,” Jaylis’ vision kept trying to drift over to Chiyoto, each attempted shift eliciting a low but still audible warning growl from Rafal’s beast – something that Rafal did nothing to try to stifle as the Crowned Prince fully supported its message and intent, “Has stated there seemed to be no reason for the inflammation and its progression. If there is no response to the ilaç within the next few hurs, he will have to amputate the entire area to prevent death from the infection bursting and causing internal bleeding.”

  Chiyoto mumbled under her breath again as Runa rumbled with laughter inside of her – the Guard in question had certainly earned his sentence.

  Jaylis’ eyes cut straight to Chiyoto with her mumble, but she only smiled innocently at a passer-by and took another bite – her calm actions betraying nothing outwardly – especially not the identity of her altre or her bloodline. But Rafal felt his skin tingle with her obvious dislike of either the ailing Black Guard in question or with Jaylis.

  Or both.

  And he truly had to once again breathe in her peppermint and musk – a peppermint that seemed to become more laced with just a slight burning spice – such as that of a biting cinnamon or the like – as her annoyance with Jaylis or the conversation or something related thereto seemed to grow. And the alteration in her essence seemed to make his own beast grow restless.

  Dismiss the kahrolasi pich.

  Not a voice in his head; it was his beast again.

  And Rafal had to stifle his own grin at the beast’s demand because, once again, he found himself in full agreement with that part of himself with whom he previously had little to no interaction.

  “And you felt the need to share this with me why, Jaylis?”

  Rafal’s voice did not even feign the concern that Jaylis obviously sought.

  And Jaylis’ face did not veil his annoyance with Rafal’s apparent lack of concern with his own Detail – even though that Detail had not been appointed by the Prime Magistrate or Crowned Prince or whatever it was he was to be called. These guards were still responsible for his protection.

  “Because that leaves your Detail two guards short, Prime Magistrate,” Jaylis actually let his monsecrit’s growl mix with his voice, “Since you chose to reassign Didas without my consultation.”

  Neither Chiyoto nor Runa sensed Rafal’s intentions before his dinner knife blade was sunk completely into Jaylis’ upper thigh and a deep murderous growl rolled up from deep within her gorgeous Crowned Prince.

  Oh, yes. Gorgeous.

  And hers.

  Both Chiyoto and Runa at that moment were fascinated and captivated by the aggressive actions that so quickly played out, most might have missed them. But Chiyoto could feel both her breasts tighten and the area between her thighs heat with … well, she could not even describe what that heat felt like, but she had to adjust herself in her seat to relieve some of the pressure as Rafal’s beast and he simultaneously told Jaylis what they thought of his blatant display of disrespect.

  He certainly has all the makings of a worthy mate for an Empress, my Treasure.

  Runa sharpened her talons more intently – her large, even though in absence, iridescent body peaked with attention at Rafal’s actions.

  “Key word here, Jaylis,” it was clear that Rafal fought to control his beast’s bloodlust as, whether out of pride or embarrassment, Jaylis fought to remain upright and unflinching, “Mine. My Detail. My choice,” Rafal just as quickly removed the blade and proceeded to wipe the blood from it on
Jaylis’ shirt, “My position to which you and your beast will show the proper respect and deference or the blade will henceforth find a less …,” Rafal paused as both he and his beast realized the rise in Chiyoto’s musk. It was the same rise that had been present both last evening before their meal and this morning in the hallway – and Rafal felt himself grow almost instantly hard for her. A grin spread across his face as he completed his statement – threat? promise? – to Jaylis. And even though that grin had nothing whatsoever to do with the Captain, Rafal let it play into the scenario however Jaylis and his beast sought to interpret it, “Benign placement.”

  Rafal allowed his beast to growl its own warning to them both as he cut a bite of his food using that same knife and, just before he placed the bite irreverently in his mouth, he motioned his head at the Captain.

  “I suggest you check in with that hakim, again, yes?”

  As Jaylis turned and limped away – eyes and movements clearly indicative of the hatred for the Prime Magistrate – Rafal moved a hand under the table to his Chiyoto’s inner thigh and grasped it tightly.

  “We smell you, shioliah,” the passion in his eyes that were fixated on her taught breasts could not be masked and his voice was deep and whispered near her face, “So very wet and ready for my claim. Does your true Prince not frighten?”

  A thicker blush than usual rose up her fair cheeks as she took a deep, labored breath as her eyes looked away.

  “Rafa-a-al …,” she swallowed and licked lips that had gone dry as Rafal reached across with his other hand and lifted her beautiful face to his.

  He grinned only slightly and Chiyoto was lost – she returned his smile, mesmerized, as she gently rubbed his hand on her jaw – her gentle breaths passing across his neck and upper chest, enticing him all the more as his skin tingled with what could only be her arousal.