by Aja James
Unsuccessfully dodging the handmaiden’s persistent hands, Alexandros finally relented and stood still beneath her perusal. He hoped he was too weak to get aroused, but with Wan’er, he didn’t have much confidence in his otherwise unbreakable selfcontrol.
Her thumb suddenly pressed down on one of his ribs and Alexandros almost doubled over in pain. “Hmm,” she mused, “right lung not completely regenerated, rib fracture still tender. While I cannot keep you from action, I do strongly advise you restrict yourself to a sedate walk and don’t move too suddenly.”
She speared him with a gimlet glare, “In the interest of a speedy recovery, you had better heed my words, else I’ll make sure you regret it.”
Alexandros found himself unable to hold the intensity of her stare and looked away uncomfortably. “And the others?”
Wan’er continued with her gentle probing and replied, “Ayelet, Rain and Valerius are headed to China; Orion and Eveline to Europe to recruit. I believe Tristan and Aella found a lead to the Sentinel’s location, but they are awaiting your recovery to confer.”
When he would have moved outside the silken cage of her arms and body, she stayed him with one hand around his ankle, as she balanced on the balls of her feet in a stoop before him, examining his lower body.
“I am not finished,” she stated authoritatively, leaving Alexandros to wonder who here was the General and who the handmaiden.
At her prodding, he lifted one foot, balancing his weight against the wall. She rotated his ankle this way and that, nodding at the healing progress made, then slid her hand up his calve, squeezing systematically around to his knee and upwards along his thigh.
“Enough,” Alexandros grasped her hand when she would have filled her hand with his swollen staff.
Wan’er easily wrestled her hand out of the warrior’s grip and rose to face him. “Rather prudish for a Macedonian, aren’t you?” she eyed him curiously.
“I’m just trying to preserve your maidenhood,” the General retorted.
She gave him a sideways smirk. “I’ve seen and held it all, warrior,” she replied without even a hint of embarrassment, even as heat inched up his neck and filled his cheeks.
Switching topics easily, she said, “Come, I shall take you to Aella and Tristan. They are conferring in the throne room.”
It occurred to Alexandros that if she had indeed examined him while unconscious, she must have known already that as far as his manhood was concerned, he was entirely intact. Then the wandering hand was for…
Startled, he jerked his gaze to her back just as she looked behind her and threw him another lopsided, mischievous smile. She turned back around and led the way out of the clinic to the throne room with a sassy sway of her hips.
Vixen, the General thought, even as an answering smile curved his own lips.
In the throne room, he found Aella and Tristan already fully armed and ready to head out. At the sight of him, Aella rushed forth to embrace him heartily and Tristan pounded his back a bit too gladly, making Alexandros’ shoulders creak in protest.
“Welcome back to the living, General,” Tristan greeted with a bark of laughter.
“You look good,” Aella added, looking him up and down, “like raw meat warmed over under the noon sun.”
Alexandros grimaced at the graphic picture that came to mind. Unfortunately, he felt rather like the Amazon’s description as well.
“Just give me five minutes and I’ll be ready to join you,” Alexandros said, but even before he finished speaking, all three were shaking their heads.
“No sudden movements,” Wan’er reminded him, “that includes vampire hunting.”
“I’m sorry, General, but it’s too dangerous to take you with us,” Aella said. Implicit in her statement was that as long as he was not fully healed, he would be a liability on the hunt.
Alexandros was loathe to face the truth, but he knew she was right.
“Besides,” Tristan commented, “we need you here.” He handed Alexandros a thumb drive. “This contains images we took from the past few hunts around Greater Boston, including a revisit to the tunnel in which you and Leonidas were ambushed. Look through them and tell us if anything triggers a memory or a feeling. We will plan our next course of action upon our return tonight.”
Alexandros did not argue with this assignment of responsibilities. His Gift was the ability to track any prey, under any circumstances.
He could view, touch, listen, smell anything his target had come in contact with, and even if he’d never encountered it himself, he would be able to pinpoint at which time the target had passed it, used it, worn it, as well as ascertain the direction in which the target was headed afterwards. As long as there were three such objects for him to react to, he would be able to triangulate the exact location of the target with laser precision.
If the USB contained three relevant images, by nightfall he would be able to locate where Leonidas had been taken. Dead or alive, he would bring his comrade home.
For his enemies’ sake, the Sentinel had better be alive.
*** *** *** ***
Forty-eight hours after they took off from Boston Logan Airport, Ayelet and Valerius waited in front of a beaten down train station for Rain to purchase their tickets from Shangri-La to the outskirts of Lushui County.
“I feel a bit like a circus sideshow,” Ayelet muttered as various Chinese travelers passed by them with undisguised interest, and sometimes, with outright consternation in their expressions.
With her long curly dark hair, voluptuous
proportions and form fitting leathers, Ayelet looked like an ancient Byzantine goddess come down to earth. Valerius, hard as he tried, simply could not blend into any background in Yunnan, China. Well over head and shoulders, and more often chest, above the average Chinese, his biceps larger than most men’s thighs, his shoulders wider than twice their lengths, he was a veritable Goliath.
Northern Chinese were known to be taller – after all, they produced the likes of Yaoming, the NBA legend. But Ayelet and company were traveling through Southwest China, where people were generally smaller, darker, more prone to gawk at the foreigners, for the living monoliths they appeared to be.
“But you are a very beautiful attraction,” Rain said, smiling as she walked back to her awaiting friends with their train tickets. “I am sure the men are wondering how best to approach such a goddess. It’s not everyday people around here get to see the likes of you and Valerius.”
“They look more terrified than titillated,” Ayelet responded wryly. “My arms are bigger than those men’s legs.” She nodded to a group of what looked to be construction workers sitting on the steps of the train, staring unabashedly at her.
“Oh but they are much stronger than they look,” Rain assured her. “You have to be to live in these mountains. Both men and women have to carry more than twice their weight sometimes to transport goods and necessities from the closest town to their homes in the mountains. You’ll see soon enough.” She moved to stand beside Valerius and wrapped both her arms around one of his, leaning into him.
“Are you tired, Healer?” the warrior asked with concern, wondering whether Rain was strong enough to undertake the journey ahead of them.
She shook her head and beamed up at him, momentarily blinding him with her dazzling smile. “I just want to stake my claim so those girls know that you are mine,” she said cheerfully, making Valerius look around them, spotting a few giggling young women leaning out of windows on the train, staring and gesturing at him.
Valerius quickly looked away, uncomfortable with the attention, only to hear Rain’s amused chuckle. “And I like to be close to you,” she added, making him blush harder. “If I could, I’d wrap around your body like a second layer of skin.”
Though the whispered words were for his ears only, Valerius face burned as if she’d shouted them for all the world to hear. Despite his embarrassment, however, he felt ridiculously pleased. It was incredible to him that this rav
ishing, ethereal, angelic creature wanted him, even coveted him.
“I also bought sustenance for our four hour train ride,” Rain said more loudly to include Ayelet in the conversation. She raised one fist that held a large bag, weighed down with food.
Ayelet came forth to examine its contents and raised her head with a dubious expression. “What’s in here?”
“Tea eggs,” Rain answered, pointing to six large eggs swimming in what looked like soy sauce and tea leaves in a clear plastic bag, the shells colored darkly and cracked to bits. The better to let the juices absorb into the eggs, Rain explained.
“Pork buns, plain mantou, and tangerines. All for ten yuan,” the Healer announced proudly. There was enough food there to feed half a dozen people, and it was less than two U.S. dollars.
“And I got you this,” Rain said, holding up a shallow paper carton to Valerius with something that jiggled on the inside. “It’s blood jelly. Lots of iron. Good for you to keep up your strength.”
Ayelet made a face even as Valerius accepted the food with a gracious nod of thanks. She liked Chinese food just fine, but anything to do with congealed pig’s blood she’d just as soon pass on.
After they boarded the train and settled into their seats, no more than two long hard benches separated by a wooden table, Ayelet asked of the Healer, “Have you ever been to this part of China before? Do you happen to know Cloud Drako?”
Rain nodded in answer to the first question. “Yes, I’ve been to these parts a few times. After two thousand five hundred years, I’ve been to just about every place in China more than once. When I want to get away for a while from modern civilization, I come down here or go up to Tibet, Inner Mongolia, places still relatively unsettled, secluded from all but the most adventurous tourists. But I do not believe I have met Cloud.”
She thought back to the pictures Ayelet had shown her on the flight. “He must really not want to be found. It is rare that Pure Ones residing in the same country, even on the same continent, would not know of all the other Pure Ones around. And as he is of the warrior class, if your sources are true, it is doubly rare that I would not have known him through the Rites of the Phoenix.”
Valerius stiffened imperceptibly beside the Healer when she mentioned the Rites. He needed to find a way to overcome the blood boiling territoriality where Rain was concerned. The Rites were a part of her life, written into her destiny. He knew from the start that he wasn’t her first Consort and he wouldn’t be her last, but it was a bitter pill to swallow nonetheless.
Unaware of the Protector’s troubles, Rain continued, “Perhaps I would have heard of his human name. Do you know it?”
Ayelet shook her head. “It’s hard to trace his original human name. His soul is almost two thousand years old, but I believe this current incarnation is not his original body.”
“That would explain why I don’t recognize him,” Rain said. “Perhaps I knew his soul from a previous or even the original incarnation, but I don’t know this current face and form. He looks only partially Han.”
Ayelet knew that Rain referred to the race that made up the majority of the Chinese population and gave the people the traditional “oriental” looks.
Indeed, Cloud Drako, with his lightning blue eyes, height of six feet four inches, broad shoulders and leanly muscular build, appeared to be a mix between Asian and possibly Russian ancestry, which was not uncommon around the borderlands of western China.
“Is he still human then?” Rain asked. Only Pure Ones directly resurrected in their original human form were guaranteed to be immortal. Reincarnated Pure Ones would have to have an Awakening before they could embrace their immortality. Until that time, they would age and live like any other human. Sophia was one such example.
Ayelet narrowed her eyes in thought. “I am not sure. It is possible he has already passed his Awakening. His Gift is tremendously powerful. I cannot imagine that he is able to wield it with such strength as a human.”
“A Gift of telepathy?” Valerius queried, his protective instincts heightening.
Ayelet nodded. “I believe he has the ability to mesmerize others. He can push his will into people who meet his gaze. I almost gave up the search before it began, suddenly feeling as if there was nothing to be found even though I held the evidence of his existence in my hands.”
“How can we get around his Gift when we find him?” Rain worried. “If he does not want to come with us, how can we possibly convince him?”
“I’ve considered this ad nauseum,” Ayelet replied, her brows drawn in concentration. “First, we must avoid his gaze at all costs. We must make use of all our other senses and not rely on our sight.” Briefly, she wished Dalair was here, but during the Phoenix Cycle, the Healer could not be far away from her Consort, and they could not afford to take two Elite guards from the Shield.
“Second…” she hesitated, darting a glance at Rain, and then at Valerius.
Valerius braced himself, knowing that he wouldn’t like the next words to come from the Guardian.
Ayelet addressed the Healer, “Second, if you get close enough to Drako, Rain, you can calm his defenses with your zhen,” referring to the needles of Rain’s hair. “Perhaps if he feels your positive energy, he will let down his guard and allow us some time to at least make our case. He can always reject our offer later, but we need him to let us in long enough to be heard.”
Rain was nodding even as Valerius stated, “It’s too dangerous. We don’t know whether we can trust him.”
Rain took one of his hands in both of hers and entwined their fingers to reassure him. “Valerius, the same can be said of us, can it not? Why should he trust us? We are seeking him out in his own home, which he has taken great pains to hide. We are planning to take him out of a peaceful, simple existence into a world of violence and danger. He has every reason to try to thwart us in our mission.”
Valerius opened his mouth to object, but she silenced him with a finger against his lips. “Ayelet is right. Among the three of us, I have the greatest chance of reaching through his barriers. He is a Pure One, don’t forget. He’s using his powers to protect himself, not to harm us. Don’t worry so for me. I am powerful in my own right. You have witnessed it personally, have you not?”
Her smile took some of the sting out of her admonishment, but Valerius was not ready to relent. “There must be another way,” he insisted. “You could also throw a few zhen to force his eyes closed, and we can convince him at a distance.”
“Hardly a way to build trust,” Rain rejected the idea right away. “And if he is as superior a warrior as we expect, he would have intercepted my needles before they reached him. He would then interpret the action as aggression and there’s no telling how he’d respond. We could be escalating the encounter to a full out battle.”
“I agree,” Ayelet interjected, trying to ignore the piercing glare that the Protector threw her way. “We cannot afford inciting mistrust even before the conversation begins, and Rain is the only one of us he’d let near, if for no other reason than their shared ancestry, language and the fact that she appears the least threatening of us three.”
Rain smiled wryly. “My smallness has its uses.”
Valerius knew defeat when he met it. He would not be able to change the Healer’s mind. As one of the Dozen, he respected her decision as well as her ability to take care of herself. But as her Consort… no, he admitted to himself, it was more than that.
As the male who loved her. His entire being rebelled at the idea that his female was putting herself at risk. Every nerve, every cell shouted to protect her.
But he did not have that right, he knew. He was merely her Consort for the remainder of the Phoenix Cycle. He was far from her Eternal Mate. He dared not even imagine that his wishes mattered to her.
Valerius was not aware that the Guardian watched him closely as he systematically tried to shut down his Mated male urges to protect his female. But Ayelet saw the truth.
The Protecto
r had Fallen.
Suddenly, it all made sense. The starkness of his countenance. The shadows beneath his eyes. The tremendous pain that weighed him down, so pervasive, she could almost see it eating away at his flesh and bones. This was not the appearance of a Consort, no matter how much strength the Healer drew from him into her own body. This was the appearance of the Fallen – a Pure One who loved, but who did not receive in kind.
This was the visage of the dying.
Ayelet averted her face and looked out the train’s window at the scenery outside. Tears filled her eyes at the sight of her friend wasting away. She knew that he must be in constant, unimaginable pain. She knew what it cost him to cover the signs of his Decline from the Healer, from her. If she hadn’t watched him so closely, if she didn’t know what to look for… If she hadn’t seen the soul-deep anguish in his eyes when he looked upon the female he loved with such longing and hopelessness…
Tristan must have known, it occurred to her. Before they departed on their journey, her Mate had warned her not to interfere, referring to the Healer and the relationship with her Consort. Ayelet had been puzzled that she would have any cause to interfere in the first place. But Tristan had not enlightened her further. He just pulled her into a tight embrace and told her to have faith in the ways of the Goddess.
Now she knew what Tristan had meant. And no, she would not, could not, interfere, even if she wanted to.
The Protector had made his choice. He’d Fallen for the one Pure-female who could never fall in love. To do so, she would have to give up everything she was – her Gift as the Healer, her very identity as a Pure One.
Ayelet prayed to the Goddess for a miracle even as she prepared herself for the inevitable.
*** *** *** ***
Alexandros pushed his body to the limit in the training room after hours.
Aella had already dismissed the last of the Chevaliers, and he’d sat uselessly on the benches against the wall and watched her while she trained the recruits with a mastery he was impressed by even as he involuntarily resented her for taking over his job.