And now she could do it in the daylight.
Walking the Mile in the daylight was different from the night. Darkness hid so many ugly things. Trash, cracks in the pavement, even the ugliness of neon signs with no light.
But to Siobhan, it was all so incredibly beautiful. She stopped in each of the shops along the way, admiring the colors, some faded and washed out, some vibrant in the sun. Early morning risers noticed the half-dressed brunette with the bloodied katana and moved quickly away, or avoided her all together.
It was close to eight before she reached her own shop. A yellow and black line of tape blocked the entrance, but she didn't detect anyone inside. Snatching the tape away, she opened the front door with a swift kick.
The body was long gone, as was any remnant of what happened the day before. It wasn't until she ascended her stairs that she saw the destruction wrought on her place. She had been invaded; her possessions tossed aside as the killer looked for what Melissa had stolen.
But they hadn't found the secret room, hidden behind the mirror in her bedroom—though the mirror now lay in a thousand pieces. She tried to sieve through the wall but bumped into it instead. Had she lost her powers? She tried to shift into a wolf.
Nothing happened.
Siobhan ran to the bathroom and looked into the AV mirror.
She looked different. Her skin tanned, her eyes no longer held the sheen of death. How long will this last? Is it permanent? And even if it is—I would give it all back to have Abyssinian with me.
Picking up one of the statues scattered about the floor, she smashed it into the thin wall and tore a hole so she could get to her computer. Once through, she logged in and downloaded the packet from Melissa.
She typed in YOU ARE IN DANGER and sat back and watched as three Seleighe—known by their light colored hair—held an UnSeleighe—dark haired and darker skinned—to the table she'd seen in the room and strapped her down. Then a tall, familiar elf entered and began to chant a ritual as the others shoved needles into the restrained elf's arms and neck and drained away her blood.
Abyssinian been wrong. They hadn't just used magic, but old fashioned needles and tubes as well.
"It's old magic," came a familiar voice behind her.
She'd been expecting him. The instant she saw his face on the recording. Siobhan stopped the playback and with two clicks sent the packet to a safer place.
She stood and turned inside the small room and stepped through into her bedroom.
Oberon sat on her bed, his hands folded in his lap. His eyes widened when she stood in the streaming sunlight and he moved quickly to his feet. "I see…my brother finally unraveled it."
"Were you trying to create day walking vampires, Oberon?" She was trying to understand everything now.
"I was attempting to create an elixir to allow them to walk in the daylight." He stood and took a step closer to her. "Sell it to the highest bidder. Something even The Prince couldn't resist. Think of the money to be made, Siobhan. No more working as a Chicago cop. No more skimping by—not if I had that kind of power in my hands."
Yep. A demoted king through and through. Can't just live like the rest of us. "Abyssinian figured out what you were doing."
"And he also discovered how to make it work." Oberon swallowed. "Pity. I tried to take that information from him."
"You tortured him. I saw the mark on his wrist."
"Stubborn fool. He'd rather die than help me. His brother." He snarled as he put a hand to his chest. "The king!"
Siobhan couldn't stop the smirk that crossed her face.
He moved even closer. "Tell me what he did. How did he do this?" He reached out and put a hand on Siobhan's long dark hair. "Was it a spell? Did he use an herb? Some amulet?"
She paused as she watched him, saw the greed in his eyes. The self-absorbed man she'd believed she'd loved once. Should she tell him the truth? That it was the elven blood itself? Could she take Oberon here? Now? Drain him to the point of death…and leave him to die? Perhaps put iron manacles on him?
Something told her…no. Stop. He is death.
Maybe it was something in her eyes, but Oberon took a step back. For the first time she saw fear in his eyes. "Where is Abyssinian?"
She watched him. And smiled, allowing her fangs to slide down below her lip. "He gave me his life—so that I could defeat you."
She turned and took up Abyssinian's katana where she'd left it by the bathroom door.
"You…you drank Aby's blood? Is that it? Is that the secret? Elven blood is poison—was it just his blood? We might not have to kill another UnSeleighe again. We can use your blood to make the serum…whatever he did I can reverse engineer it."
"That's where you're wrong," she said as she held the sword high. Oberon started to stand, but he stumbled against a piece of wood and fell to the ground. Just one swing…one thrust through his cold black heart and Aby's torturer would die.
"Stop!"
Siobhan froze and turned to see a very pale and shaking Abyssinian standing in the doorway to her bedroom. She stepped back, nearly dropping the katana. "You—you're alive!"
Abyssinian held out a shaking, pale hand. "Killing him—isn't the answer. He has to pay…for what he'd done. He should be punished."
"Punished? Me? Never!" Oberon muttered as he started up from where he'd fallen.
Siobhan turned in slow motion to see Oberon pull his gun from inside his suit jacket. He brought it up and aimed it at Abyssinian.
But she reacted with vampiric reflexes, brought the katana up and cleanly cut him off at the knees.
Literally…cut off his knees.
Oberon screamed and dropped the gun as his body collapsed like a falling tower. Abyssinian collapsed near the door and Siobhan grabbed the gun as she backed up to where Aby was. She checked his pulse. Steady but faint. Why hadn't he had one before?
She gazed down at Aby, and moved strands of his bright hair from his face. "I love you too, Abyssinian Geld," she said softly.
Confident Oberon was no longer a threat, she called 911 to report a burglary in her home.
"You know," Siobhan said as she and Abyssinian walked along the Miracle Mile. "I kind of miss the daylight."
"Yeah," he said. "Too bad it didn't last."
"You died."
"Oh, just for an instant. Then I woke up with the worst damned headache." He put his hands behind his back. "It takes a lot more than two wounds to kill an elf. Though I probably should have told you that our bodies shut down like that."
"Yeah, you could have spared me some untold grief, Aby."
He turned his head to the side and looked at her. "You love me."
"I didn't say that."
He grinned. "But you at least like me."
She pursed her lips but said nothing. She knew in her heart she loved him. But this incident also showed her how vulnerable her affection for him could make her. Logically she should stay away from him—but now that she knew she could walk in the day with a taste of his blood— "Can all elves—can any vampire drink from an elf and day walk?" She'd held off asking that question because the thought of what would happen to the elves if vampires suddenly knew the pointy-ear's blood wasn't poison—but life giving.
No elf would be safe from them.
Abyssinian narrowed his indigo eyes, still watching her. "No. If you'd have drank from Oberon—you would have died."
"What makes your blood different?"
He looked straight ahead as the breeze from Lake Michigan ruffled the red hair on his forehead. "Have you ever wondered why my brother is Seleighe and I am UnSeleighe? Have you ever wondered what the difference was? Other than our appearance?"
Siobhan was aware of the looks the elf gathered from passers by. Women and men both watched him, many with lust in their eyes. He was beautiful…and that hair. "You're the only red-headed elf I've ever met."
He nodded. "Legend says the Seleighe are the elves of light, and the UnSeleighe? Well, we're considered the bad guys.
In truth, the UnSeleighe aren't considered pure." He stopped walking. Siobhan stopped and moved to stand face to face with him, looking up into his indigo eyes. "Siobhan, my father was human. Oberon and I share the same mother. She took a pet—a changeling you call them—and she fell in love with him."
A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. It made sense now. The darker skin, the darker hues of hair, and their eyes—she had never understood before why Abyssinian's eyes didn't have the slitted pupils like Oberon did. The UnSeleighe, though elven, also possessed more human traits than the Seleighe. "The UnSeleighe, the Dark Court, was created by gathering all the half-breeds."
"Yes," he looked down at her. "They call us the Winterborne. And because my mother is the Queen, I am their leader." Abyssinian reached out, moved a strand of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. "We discovered what could happen if a vampire drank our blood—by accident. I made the decision to feed the rumor of our blood being the same as the Seleighe. Death. Poison. But some how a twisted version of the truth made it to Oberon's ears after the High Court corrupted."
The twinkle in Aby's eyes made her think that twist in the truth was one of his own doing. "Oberon wanted to create this elixir and you noticed your people disappearing."
"Yeah. I did. So I watched and waited. And I noticed Sacred Harvest, and that Oberon had invested into its creation—with dummy companies. But I'm pretty good at business." He grinned and tapped the side of his head. "I'm not just a pretty face…"
Siobhan couldn't help but smile as she reached out and lightly punched his stomach, careful to avoid the bandaged side where the enemy's blade had sliced. The wound at his neck was also healing, the bandage just visible at his shirt collar. "You asked Melissa to help. And that's when Oberon held you?"
"Yes. She found out that he suspected me. She was going to warn me. But," his smile faded. "I was caught and questioned. And she was killed." He refocused on her. "I regret her death, Sio. Others deaths. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about him earlier, but with you—" he shrugged. "You're better off when you find out the truth on your own."
"Even about your blood?"
"Would you have believed me if I'd have told you?"
True. She turned and started their walk again. He closed the distance with his long legs. With a sigh she looped her arm in his and he squeezed it close to his side. "So all UnSeleighe have this ability? I could drink from any of them and day walk?"
"No."
She tilted her head up. "No? You just said—"
But he stopped and turned. Faster than she could react, he grabbed her upper arms and pulled her against him. "Sio—you don't understand what Oberon's done? There are so few UnSeleighe left. He didn't just kill a few. He killed over a hundred of us. Before this—we barely numbered twenty more than that. He killed them because he was jealous. Of me."
She became aware of his heart beating strong against her. Of the blood…the nectar rushing through his veins. His scent…his glorious lemony scent. "Because he lost his kingdom. His people no longer followed in him. But you…are still a King."
"You know him so well," Abyssinian smiled. "I'm one of a handful of elves who know about this. The vampires and the humans don't need to know. No one does, or they'll be breeding half-breeds to produce the blood for vampires. The balance between our races must stay in check. We have magic, you shape shift. We walk in the sun, you revel in the night. We are felled by cold iron, you are weakest with sunlight."
She looked into his eyes and saw passion there. Passion to save his people, and passion to do what was right. She understood what he was asking—that she only share with him. That this is their secret. "Oberon knows I walked in the day."
"Oberon is no longer a problem," Abyssinian said.
But Siobhan wasn't ready to dismiss her old lover. Not that quickly. But for now, he was incarcerated on ten counts of murder. Breaking and entering. And kidnapping—Aby would always wear the scar on his wrist from the cold iron.
She heard his stomach growl and laughed, alleviating the seriousness of their conversation. "Pizza?"
He nodded quickly and released her, but Siobhan kept her arm looped in his. And for now, they both seemed to be content with that.
"You keeping the store open?"
"Uh-hm. You going to keep fighting the evildoers? Even if they turn out to be family?"
Aby gave her a wide smile. "Always. Oh, I heard from my bro's lawyer. They're using an insanity plea. I mean," he held out his hands to his sides, his red hair flashing in the city lights. "Who ever heard of a walking in the daylight by drinking an elf's blood? Sheesh." He shook his head.
She laughed at him. "It is crazy. But," she paused and he paused with her. "I just keep thinking you're not telling me the truth. Not all of it. There's something more—about the blood."
Abyssinian lowered his shoulders. "It amazes me how well you know me, Sio." He reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear. She opened her mouth to say something, but he pressed a finger to her lips. "Never drink from another UnSeleighe, Siobhan. Only from me."
A scream from a nearby alley stopped the two of them. Within seconds Siobhan had her gun drawn, and Abyssinian's katana was in his hand. They glanced at each other and grinned.
"Shall we dance?" Abyssinian said.
"After you," she answered.
The Stars Are fire
A Changeling who can shift into a motorcycle is only the beginning…
Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love. ~ William Shakespeare, Hamlet.
Coming Home
The Stars Are Fire: One
The sound of their escape echoed against the tall, dark city buildings. Her never-ending night hung over the buzzing street lamps. Light gleamed off rain-slick streets. No one walked this end of town—and for good reason. The boarded-up windows, broken glass, and graffiti-painted buildings told her an old story, one her mother used to warn her about. Stay out of the city at night. There are only hooligans and bad people there.
And after nineteen years she still didn't know what a hooligan was, but she was confident it wasn't deadlier than the enemy that chased them. The street turned right in front of a place with paper lanterns and symbols painted with red brush strokes on the windows.
In her hesitation, she felt her companion slip away from her.
"No…" she said as she stepped on two bare feet and knelt beside him. He was as pale as the moon…even his lips had lost their color. Every gasp for air was painful to hear. But his eyes…his beautiful blue eyes were alert with an angry fire as he lifted his blooded hand to her face. "Please…don't leave me…" she said.
"Sshh…my love." He coughed and blood surged over his lips.
Her heart cried out as she dared not lament his doom aloud, though silently she cursed the name of Ebon and all of his wretched children. "My heart…take my heart. I know what arts he forced upon you. I know what you are capable of now."
"No…I will not sully what little truth we had. We never let go, did we?"
Tears ran over her cheeks. "No. Ma emma lath."
"And you, mine. Do not forget me. But live…please…" he moved his hand away from hers and placed it flat on her chest above her breasts. "Annan gûr nîn ne gen."
Her sobs caught in her throat as he spoke the last of his magic. She felt his final breath as it left his lips and his hand fell limp against her lap. The jarring sound of hooves against asphalt and cement pounded against the buildings as her lover's spell wrapped itself around her. She took in the smell of him, of sweet honey and soft green grass. He joined with her in this world of their birth and as Ebon and his marauders marred the streets with their archaic chase, she slipped into the shadows and surrendered to her lover's parting gift.
The Body
The Stars Are Fire: Two
Thunder rumbled as Detective Art Tully shut off his late-model F-150 truck and jiggled the key
out of the temperamental ignition. The rain slipped into a light drizzle. Not enough to interfere with his investigation, and just enough to get him thoroughly wet.
His phone buzzed beside him in the passenger seat. Tully looked at the face. Cherish was calling. Their unhappy parting that morning sharpened the edge of his nerves. She wanted him to set a date for the wedding. And he wanted…
Tully wasn't sure what he wanted. It seemed a good idea at the time to ask Cherish to marry him. Their relationship was comfortable, their jobs mutually exclusive of the other, and they got along.
Or they did.
Tully refused the call and put the phone in his pocket. He wanted to not think about it right now. He grabbed his piece, a well maintained Smith & Wesson, out of the glove compartment along with his badge. Two years ago he'd been damn proud of himself for making detective. All shiny and new.
All the experience he had as a beat cop hadn't prepared him for the realities of Homicide. His dad, a retired fireman, told him as long as he kept a piece of himself apart from the horrors, he'd survive into his pension. But every day, the grinding of human dreams beneath the great wheel of human depravity pulled little pieces of him away.
At thirty…he felt…old. Torn up. And useless.
No matter how many criminals he caught, no matter how many murders he solved, the dead always remained dead, and the survivors scarred.
With a deep breath, he checked his reflection in the rearview mirror, raked his fingers through his bed head, and got out of his truck.
The body lay in the middle of an alley, between Tsao's Hotplate restaurant and a drugstore. Battered trash cans of day-old Chinese food warred with the nauseating aroma of week-old raw fish and chicken. Discarded take-out menus littered the wet asphalt. A few of the uniforms huddled around something just past the dumpster, beyond the body. Tully nodded his hellos to the attending uniforms as he knelt down. "Morn'n'."
Pandora: An Urban Fantasy Anthology Page 7