Forgotten Fates

by S J Doran

  “Hello again Amara. Cassius.”

  She looked from the Fae, back to the Vampire, then to Cass, all amusement washed out as her stomach sank.

  “Uhm, this is not what it looks like!”

  The vampire stepped forward, Alura instantly placing her hand on Jareth’s shoulder in warning.

  “Truly? for it looks as if you both were in the process of robbing my vault.”

  She felt Cassius’s shoulders shake with laughter but wasn't fast enough to cover his mouth.

  “Right, then I guess it's exactly what it looks like,” he said, barely hiding his snicker.

  That earned him an angered growl from both Alura and Mara. “Cass!”

  “What? He figured us out, smart vampire, nothing ever gets by him.” Cass said, his words sloppy.

  Alura’s angered expression switched to one of reluctant bemusement, “is he… drunk?”

  Mara nodded, “plastered! By the way, you can let me down now demon.”

  Cass looked from her to the Fae, to the Blood Lord, then back to her, shaking his head.

  “No, I don't think I want to. They look mean, you’re safer up there.”

  “And how am I supposed to summon a portal for us to go home from up here?”

  After a few moments in which he looked to genuinely give the question some thought, he slowly lowered her down against him until her feet touched the ground.

  “You know priestess, you’re no fun when you insist on making sense. I liked it better when you weren’t thinking.”

  “Uhuh, and look where that got us, caught with your hand in my cookie jar.”

  His head tilted away from their company to grin down at her, while his fingers pushed the pink fabric down her hips, covering her from sight.

  “Almost…”

  “It would appear that both our guests are sauced.” Alura’s sweet voice was cut off by the severe tone of the vampire lord himself.

  “It would serve you two imbeciles well to recall the that the premises are mystically warded. Neither of you will be capable of leaving my domain unless I allow you to. For the moment I would suggest you exit my vault voluntarily, lest I lock this door behind me and leave you to rot.”

  Lock her in a five-by-five cell and throw away the key.

  She tried to keep her face stoic, couldn’t let the vampire know how effective his threat was. But she couldn’t keep her heart from thundering in her chest, and if her hands hadn't been clenched into tight balls, she was sure they’d be trembling.

  Her eyes darted to Cass, who was rubbing at his chest, his jaw clenched as he stared down the vampire. She knew him well enough to know he was about to do something reckless. Her arms crossed over her chest as she moved to place herself between the notorious Blood Lord and Cassius. With a defiant tilt of chin her gaze came to rest upon startling crimson eyes of the vampire.

  The libations had left Mara feeling brazen, but it had been the vampire’s imperious disposition to ultimately get the better of her senses. Pride always prevailed her better judgement.

  “To tell the truth Jareth, I had rather been hoping to end this delightful evening with a bit rough play.”

  “Amara don’t...” She heard Alura’s gasped warning but could no longer see the Fae when the world abruptly pivoted in place. A rush of light filled her head, she heard a popping sound right before her ears began to ring. The sound giving birth to the worst headache she had yet experienced.

  “Mara!”

  Colors swam before her eyes before they all blend together, turning to pitch black. She couldn’t even tell for certain if her eyelids were opened or shut. “Cass?”

  Heat radiated against her back. His sturdy frame anchoring her as she focused on silencing the ringing, to make the sensation of whirling stop. But the more she tried to subdue it, the stronger it became.

  “I think perhaps the Fae blood was more potent than I gave it credit for...”

  Had she managed to sound as careless as she had hoped? She hadn't even been able to hear her own voice over the persistent ringing in her ears. Dark gods, it felt as if her mind would burst open from the pressure building inside her skull. The tension only lessening slightly when steady fingers closed along her nape.

  He was with her still, it would be okay. But his touch also made her aware of the warm and sticky stream his fingers were sliding over, her senses picking up the familiar metallic scent.

  “Blood?”

  Blessedly, the ringing began to fade to the back of her mind when the pain in her head eased.

  “I too enjoy it rough priestess. I have increased the pressure within your cranial arteries, the blood vessels inside your head are dilated beyond capacity. In words even you can understand, you are hemorrhaging from your brain.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  though we really don't want to

  “We will come out.” Defeat hit slowly, but was inescapable. With as much care as he could, Cass held Amara up as he led her out of the vault, trying to shield her with his body.

  As they moved, he whispered apologies by her ear, words only for her. Their impulsiveness had got them into this, but it was due to his reckless disregard for his own life that his Mara’s life was now in danger.

  She had never confessed the details of her curse to him, but he had soon enough discovered them for himself. It was by his failure her soul was once again within reach of Namtar’s grasp, served up by one furious vampire.

  The office smelled similar to his own, wood polish, leather, books- intermingling with scents belonging purely to vampire.

  His arms tightened around Amara as Jareth turned his back, clasping his hands together and filling his lungs. He turned back on them, his eyes magnetized to the blood still sluggishly trickling down Mara’s face. He’d been scenting her blood.

  Cass growled and pulled Mara behind him, letting go of the hold he had on his power. Corruption, lust- playing into the vampire’s bloodlust was not the wisest idea, but they had no other options he could see.

  "Are you attempting to unleash my primal nature, Cassius? You do not know what it is you play with.”

  His grip tightened on Mara, a reassuring squeeze, that he might have needed more than she did.

  “Release your hold on her Jareth, or I will set free that which you truly are, that which even you live in fear of.” He pulled himself up to his full height, stiffening his shoulders and looking down on the powerful Blood Lord.

  “How many of your progeny and guests will survive the night once I break your chains and set your true self free? How many will you kill before regaining your senses from the bloodlust?”

  He was suddenly immobile, flung from Mara’s side, both landing hard in chairs that he hadn’t noticed up to that point.

  He struggled, trying to reach for Mara. Protect her.

  Don’t look Cass…

  “NO.” He roared, fighting against mystical bonds.

  “My apologies, mystical binding spells are a crude form of magic, but I find their efficiency undeniable. You two will now sit still like good little children and let the adults take a turn to play.”

  Blood stained her pink dress, the fabric blooming red, the crimson color leaching the blood from his own face.

  “Mara?” She looked over to him, out of the corner of her bleeding eyes, his chest tightened to the point where he couldn’t draw a proper breath, dizziness swarming his thoughts. They sat close enough he could’ve reached her if his arms had been free to move. Close enough he could see the blood as it beaded from her pores.

  “Take me, don’t hurt her... just let her go and take me instead.” He wasn’t keeping track of the words escaping his mouth.

  “They can’t break us Cass, just our bodies.” Mara said.

  Or he thought she said. Was it just in his mind?

  Sweat poured down his brow with the effort from trying to free himself. He couldn’t let this happen…

  His mind kept slipping, thoughts and images intruding.

  I pr
omise you, one day we’ll be free.

  “Teresa always did posses the most dreadful taste in attire.” Jareth moved over her, grasping Amara’s wrist as she closed her fist, holding tightly to the ring in her palm.

  The ring. That’s why they were here. Had to focus.

  She still had the ring. For him.

  -CRACK-

  Without warning, Jareth’s fist flew out and slammed into her jaw, her bones shattering audibly throughout the room. The same room that suddenly began to tremble beneath them.

  His power blasted out from him, ignited by his rage. The image in his mind had flames roaring up from the floor, but that wasn’t right. He’d never called up hell-flames.

  “You don’t touch her!” He roared, straining against the Blood Lord’s magic, his power thick in the room, but not budging the bonds holding him back.

  His head rang with the stunted power, rolling between reality and flashes of memories that couldn’t be real.

  Get her away, before… his mind raced, panic stealing his breath.

  “Every time you flinch, I am to break another of your bones.” Basileus’s voice floated up.

  “You will not touch her,” he shouted, fighting to move, his body not obeying. “Tiit Assat Sa-” he mumbled hoarsely. “She is my life.”

  “Pay attention Cassius, it’s lessons such as this that shape your character.”

  His father was here now?

  “Jareth!” Alura moved out from the shadows, voice calm, but consternation filled her narrowed gaze.

  Jareth’s ire banked when his eyes rested on the beautiful Fae. If rumors were to be trusted, this female was his mate, and she could temper his unreasonable nature.

  Cass tried to keep his thoughts together, still fighting to free -at least his arm- he just needed to hold her hand…

  “I can feel your pain.” Whispers from his ghost calmed his pounding heart.

  “She had two of my progeny murdered, attacked another and took his eye, broke into my home and attempted to steal my property. She will receive whatever punishment I see fit for these crimes.” Jareth’s cold voice shook Cass back to the present.

  Mara wasn’t safe. It was his fault- his recklessness...

  The vampire moved to once again reach for the ring, Amara’s head lolling in his direction, her defiant expression marked by a bloody and crooked smirk before she spat a mix of blood and saliva directly into his face.

  She was fighting, she was strong.

  Why could he hear her hoarse weeping in his mind?

  Jareth raised his hand again and Cass lunged up, once more stopped short by the binding spell.

  “JAHI!” Alura shouted again, this time making a motion to intervene.

  Screams of fear began to resound from downstairs as the house shook violently. With a frustrated snarl, Jareth closed his fingers over that of the priestess.

  - CRUNCH-

  She didn’t cry out when the thin bones of her fingers snapped beneath his gasp, Cass felt her pain burning through his chest.

  She was his. His to protect—

  “Going to suffer in silence? Good, I abhor pitiful pleas.” Jareth said, his tone unemotional as he patted Mara on her head with his free hand before moving his fingers, prying his ring free from her hand.

  “MARA,” he yelled, his throat raw- had he even stopped yelling?

  “I believe this belongs to me,” Jareth plucked up the ring from her ruined hand.

  Mara’s eyes came back to him, a silent apology and something more- grief- shone in their depths.

  Blood trickled down the sides of her face, perfectly framing it. He watched a bead of it cut a trail down to her jawline, transfixed as it gathered and continued its path to her chin, where it dripped unheeded onto her crimson stained dress.

  Her soft noise of pain broke the trance, he watched helplessly as her head dropped back onto the headrest, her eyes vacant.

  Jareth pulled out a pocket handkerchief, and wiped his cheek, disgust clear on his face as he tossed the stained fabric into her lap and moved to stand in front of Cass.

  “They can only break our bodies…”

  He shook his head, trying to focus, every breath a struggle.

  “I must thank you Demon Prince, I did not feel up to socializing this evening. After all, my guest of honor already arrived.”

  He patted Cassius’s head before digging his strong fingers into his jaw, tilting his head up to lock eyes.

  They were set up. It was all a ploy to get them here. Now Mara… his eyes darted to the side to ensure she was still breathing- she was hurt. And all for naught. No ring to keep his father away, and a new enemy to retaliate against.

  If they made it out of here alive.

  “Don’t let them catch you, I’m afraid for what they’d do.”

  The sweet voice of his Assat, his ghost, drew him back in and for once, he was happy to escape to her.

  “We’ll escape, and it will be just you and I. You are mine.”

  “And you’re mine.”

  His head rapped against the back of the chair, and he was forced to pay attention to the vampire who was roughly shaking him.

  “Where did you hide Asmodeus, princeling? You are over your head on that throne.”

  “My throne,” he mumbled through his clenched teeth, his jaw clamped tight to keep them from chattering.

  Jareth’s nail clipped the flesh of his cheek, collecting a drop of ruby blood and placing it against his tongue, greedily lapping the taste off his finger, groaning in pleasure before continuing to speak.

  “Your throne... for now. We both know you will lose it soon enough, and I will see Asmodeus is returned to power before this happens and your ignorance destroys the very foundation of our existence.

  "Do you even fully comprehend the risks and consequences of your actions have exposed us to? Tell me where I can find Asmodeus.” The vampire’s voice rose, veins popping at his temples.

  Did he fully understand? Better even… did he care? Anything was better than his father's rule.

  Cassius smiled, oozing arrogance and cockiness.

  “The king is dead, long live the king.”

  Jareth's fingers dug into his scalp, turning his head to whisper an enthrallment into his ear, Cass’s mind turned to static, the last words he heard was Jareth’s dire proclamation.

  “If that's how you want to play, then I wish you pleasant dreams, King Cassius.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-one

  dig up and turn over

  The white noise cleared up, his mind latching on to a memory of damp cold stone and pain tearing through him. Running to the only place he felt safe.

  Assat.

  She was his safe haven, his strength when he faltered. He knew she suffered, though she never complained. One day, he would hold her in his arms and make her his own, when he was strong enough to free her from her cell, strong enough to finally stand up to his father.

  He felt so weak and infantile for crying in front of her, but he couldn’t stop. His stomach hurt so bad.

  All he had done was stop Bas. He didn’t want to submit to the Prince of Pleasures anymore. He hated every moment, his body still succumbed. He was always sick after. He’d said no, Bas had pressed— of course his father had felt it the moment he’d injured his Herald.

  He didn’t even know if his father realized when he tossed him across the room that he’d landed against the weapon rack and that his stomach had been torn open.

  He healed fast. But it hurt so bad.

  He lifted his hand off his injury and tilted his head forward, so he could see down his body from his prone position. There was a sharp intake of breath from inside of the cell, and she came and sat beside the bars.

  The dungeon had become his escape. In six years since he had discovered her down here, she had become his peace.

  The only place he could hide away.

  He complained to her, first with a child’s guileless abandon, not realizing how entitled he’d sounded to s
omeone who lived in a five-by-five cell with no hope of ever seeing sunlight.

  “You should have that bound.” She said, slipping her arm through the bars to grab his hand. She didn’t mind that it was coated in blood.

  “I can feel your misery. Did he come into your room again?” Her voice, though weak, had gone dark with promise.

  Another sob escaped. He was trying to stop. His insides felt like they were on fire, he had no one to take care of him...

  He nodded, sniffled and ran his sleeve across his face. “I punched him right on the mouth.”

  She lay down on her side of the bars, careful not to let go of his hand. Her eyes were the prettiest things he’d ever seen.

  “I don’t want to run,” he hiccupped on a sob. “One day, I’m going to be stronger than them. I will free you and we will take them all down.”

  “Your pain. I can feel it, it’s making me crave something… like when I need to eat chocolate more than anything.” She sighed and took her hand from his to hold it over his wound. “It’s making me dizzy.”

  It sounded like she was describing his own craving for lust. A nebulous thought formed. She had to be around sixteen now. Az insisted she was warlock, Cass knew she was demon born, he could scent it on her. After all, he was Prince of all the Hells— he would recognise a demon.

  As a sin-eater, Prince of Lust, he hated how he had to feed. He’d barely seen eighteen years and already he’d had so many sexual partners it had become monotonous. He wouldn’t wish that on her. But his need to see her strong was more than his desire to protect her.

  “Do you want to try something?”

  She’d been malnourished most of her life, though he and their tutor brought food regularly, it wasn’t enough. If she could get energy from something other than food, she could grow strong here. She would thrive even if it were as simple as the lowest demon’s ability to feed off corruption.

  “What do you want to try?” She said on a sigh, her fingers pushing his hair back from his forehead, soothing him.

  Az was completely in denial if he refused to see her demon blood.