by Aja James
“He assured us that he was safe and strong, though he did not reveal his mission or location. He warned us about the vampire assassins and confirmed that, at the very least, Jade is not behind the plot against us. Based on Seth’s knowledge, we must assume that Leonidas is lost to us. If he is not dead, then he has been turned assassin.”
Tristan let the group absorb the implications of his words.
Alexandros looked away, clenching his fists in fury and frustration. Though he’d already witnessed Seth’s projection, and he’d privately feared that the worst had happened to his comrade, he felt the pain of loss most acutely for he saw it as his own failure that Leonidas had been taken from them.
“To prepare for the battles to come,” Tristan continued grimly, “Alexandros will train each of us, including the Circlet, in the best ways to combat the Sentinel. If he has indeed been turned, the threat to all of us has increased tenfold. He knows our fighting styles, our strengths and weaknesses. He could be training vampire assassins as we speak.”
“Except Cloud,” Ayelet interjected. “He does not know Cloud.”
“Exactly,” Aella responded. “Drako is our edge.” She locked eyes with the warrior in question and felt strangely reassured in the calm, quiet strength of the new recruit. In his presence, she felt as if everything will turn out as the Goddess willed, and that Her will would include their triumph.
When she looked back to the rest of the group, the sense of peace abruptly lifted, and she narrowed her eyes. “However, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve studied him thoroughly as they’ve undoubtedly studied all the others. We have a lot to catch up on. We’ve started to compile all the profiles of known warrior-class Pure Ones across the world, based on Ayelet’s work. We need to familiarize ourselves with their history, training, weapons and techniques. There’s no telling which ones have been turned and we need to prepare ourselves for all possibilities.”
“My Queen,” Dalair said, addressing Sophia, who caught the force of his solemn gaze like a startled rabbit before a feline predator, “we need you to harness the full power of your Gift to start identifying and narrowing down Pure souls among the humans, especially those on the cusp of their Awakening. This is another advantage we have over our unseen foes. They can only target the known existing Pure Ones, but we can double our efforts to educate, recruit and train new members. In so doing, we can stay one step ahead of our enemy.”
Sophia almost clicked her heels together and saluted the Paladin, feeling like a stripling soldier receiving a crucial responsibility from her Commander, but she settled for a swallow and a nod. She just hoped she wouldn’t let him, all of them, down.
“Trouble is brewing at an accelerated pace,” Aella said and looked at the Scribe and Seer each in turn. “Not only do we have Seth’s warning, the Zodiac Scrolls and Prophesies have also confirmed an imminent battle that will be critical in deciding our future course. All of us need to undergo intensive combat training, especially Sophia and the Circlet. We need to quickly determine your natural abilities and match you with appropriate weapons.”
She regarded the Protector. “Valerius, you are best suited to train the Elite. You are the strongest among us.”
Next she turned to the General. “Alexandros, you will train and educate everyone on Leonidas’ fighting style and how he thinks strategically so that we can anticipate his moves.”
Finally, she looked to the Paladin. “Dalair, you will train the Circlet and Sophia on basic attack maneuvers and self-defense, leveraging each person’s Gift to the extent possible. Though our non-combat members are not easy prey by any means, as Orion and Eveline have demonstrated on their recent trip, we need to up the ante several notches. If there is an all-out battle, no one will be a liability; no one will be left behind.”
“Should I take leave from school?” Sophia asked. Given the urgency of the situation, she thought that might be the best course of action.
“No,” Aella responded firmly. “We must not signal to our enemies that we’ve caught their scent. Thus far, they’ve been bringing the fight to us, and now it’s our turn to turn defense into offense. But we must maintain the element of surprise. My sense is that they are getting too sure of themselves, too cocky, despite their failed assassination attempts. It’s almost as if they’re toying with us, testing our strengths and weaknesses. We should keep up all appearances that we are none the wiser.”
“Besides,” the Amazon said after a thoughtful pause, “your classes are during the day, when vampires are not active. The risk is relatively low.”
Dalair shot the Strategist a skeptical look, silently disagreeing with her assessment of the level of threat to Sophia. Aella looked calmly and meaningfully back at him.
It was then that he realized that Aella had lied.
The risk to Sophia’s safety was not low. In fact, Aella was counting on a move against the Queen. She was to be bait.
When Dalair shifted his body aggressively, on the verge of calling Aella out for his suspicions, the Amazon slowly shook her head at him. She promised with her eyes that she would explain her reasons.
Offline. In private.
Thus agreed, the Dozen separated into smaller groups to hash out details, schedules and strategies.
Before Dalair could corner her, Aella grabbed hold of Valerius and pulled him to a side corridor.
“How are you feeling?” she asked the Protector with some concern, “I named you as the intensive combat trainer for the Elite because you’re the best candidate for the job, but I can easily sign up one of the others for it, maybe even Cloud if he’s as good as he’s reputed to be.”
Valerius frowned. “You doubt my abilities?”
Aella did her non-rolling-eyes maneuver and speared him with a “don’t be obtuse” look. “I just said you’re the best candidate, didn’t I? But let’s be honest with each other, Val. A, you’re not looking your best right now – I expected you to exhibit signs of decreasing strength as the Phoenix Cycle progressed, but you’re looking worse for wear. And B, you have a more important duty to fulfill to the Healer until the Cycle is complete. She needs to be one hundred percent as soon as possible. Before this battle is over, there will be many casualties, and it’s only the beginning, I feel. There will be many more battles to come before we win the war.”
Valerius clenched his jaw and looked away.
Aella spoke the truth, and he was well aware of his body’s limitations. Training the Elite would take a heavy toll on his already depleted strength.
Meanwhile, he still had his duties as Consort to fulfill. Both roles were crucial to their survival, but he knew without deliberating which responsibility he needed to prioritize.
“Cloud and I can share the task of training the Elite,” he finally responded. “And yes, from what little I have seen, the Valiant is deserving of his reputation.”
Aella nodded with an assessing gleam in her eyes. “You two bonded over the journey, have you? Interesting.”
Valerius narrowed his eyes. “What is your meaning?”
The Amazon shrugged in answer. “Can’t wait to see for myself whether he’s all he’s cracked up to be.”
Valerius knew that she didn’t say what was really on her mind, but he had no interest in pursuing the topic further. Instead, he took his leave and went in search of Rain.
Since their night in the cavern, he could not escape the notion that she was purposely avoiding him. Though she stayed close to him physically, often taking his arm or curling her body against his during their return journey, she seemed distant emotionally. She seldom met his gaze and often stared into the distance as if lost in thought. It took over two days for them to make all the arrangements and return to the Shield, and during that time, they’d barely exchanged two sentences.
His heart ached.
He knew what it meant to give himself fully to her without expectation of anything in return. He’d anticipated the pain and torment of love unrequited, but he’d underesti
mated the intensity of his agony and the speed of his Decline. If he sparred with any member of the Elite as he was now, it would only be a matter of time before they knew his condition as well. His distance combat techniques might be able to help conceal his waning strength.
But how would he keep his Decline from Rain herself?
As the Cycle progressed, she became more insistent on probing him with her zhen to assess his condition. He knew that she worried constantly about overtaxing him, taking too much Nourishment. He had been able to distract her from a thorough health and energy assessment up to this point, but she was growing increasingly concerned. And the more she attuned herself to his body, the more difficult it became to hide the truth from her.
The good news was that her vitality had returned at a much faster rate than previous Cycles by all accounts. Most of her hair had already turned a rich black at the roots. Only a few streaks of white remained. He needed her to take the rest of his Nourishment and build up a deep reserve for the future.
He needed her to take all of him.
Valerius found the Healer waiting for him before the wall mural in the inner chamber of the Enclosure they shared.
He knew that she was purposefully waiting because she met his eyes with solemnity and determination the moment he walked inside and closed the door behind him.
“I release you from your duties as Consort,” she announced without preamble, hands clasped before her, back straight, head high.
The words were like a physical blow, and Valerius barely managed to hold his ground, though his soul staggered from the impact of what she said.
“Why?” he forced out, though he couldn’t hear his own voice for the ringing in his ears.
“You have a more important and urgent duty now, and it will take all of your strength to fulfill,” she answered placidly, as if she’d rehearsed her words beforehand. “I feel better than I have in centuries. There’s no need to complete the Cycle. I can more than accommodate my responsibilities as the Healer with the store of energy you have already given me.”
When Valerius made to object, she put up one hand to still him. “Besides, I find myself in need of solitude.” Her eyes flickered ever so slightly, but her voice did not waiver. “I no longer desire your Service.”
This time, Valerius did falter. Overwhelming pain engulfed him in black, merciless waves. He felt the blood drain from his face, from his limbs. He couldn’t breathe, and his vision began to blur.
Surely she did not mean what she just said! Surely he could change her mind. If he could just take her in his arms, if he could –
“Please leave the Enclosure.” She turned around to face the mural once more.
Valerius swallowed thickly. “Rain –”
“Please leave now. I grow weary.”
Valerius could no longer see for the thick red wall before his eyes. Absently, he rubbed at one eye and realized that the slippery, viscous liquid on his fingers was blood, not tears. He felt twin trails slowly leak out the corners of his eyes down his cheeks.
But before they could drip from the edge of his jaw, he pivoted on his heel, felt his way around the chamber door and left the Enclosure without a sound.
Rain felt his departure with every fiber of her being. The moment his presence was removed from the room, she crumpled like a paper doll onto the floor.
It was for his own good! she told herself. Both for his health and for satisfying the current situation. It would be selfish of her to keep him by her side, and it would tear him apart physically to carry out both responsibilities of Elite Trainer and Consort. She hadn’t lied about how she felt physically. She was indeed far stronger than she’d been in many Phoenix Cycles, even though they had not yet reached the full thirty days. She was close enough to full strength that, technically, she no longer needed his Nourishment.
But oh how she wanted him!
And therein lay the danger. The more she wanted him, the higher the risk of taking too much from him. In addition, she could no longer distinguish duty from desire. Ayelet had asked her if she loved Valerius.
She did!
To the point she was obsessed with him. She craved his body, his blood, his love-making constantly. She couldn’t look at him, hear him, smell him without wanting him with an urgency and intensity that shook her to the core. She was becoming so dependent on him, so addicted, being apart from him for even brief moments made her want to cry.
She had never felt this way before, not even remotely close. All the passion she’d felt for her first Consort seemed like mere puppy love, yet she recalled the devastation his death left behind with intense clarity. She still bore the scars on her soul.
But did she love Valerius enough? Did he love her in return? Could she risk his life and her sanity to find out?
She couldn’t.
Even if he hated her for rejecting him so coldly, even if she had to live with the agony of their damaged relationship forever after this, as long as he was healthy and alive, as long as he was in this world, she could bear it.
Time healed all wounds, did it not? Perhaps she was too sensitive, perhaps he wasn’t hurt by her dismissal at all. For all she knew he was relieved to be freed to do his duty to the Elite to the fullest. He’d never wanted to Serve her. It was an obligation for saving his life.
And she’d get over this addiction. She had to.
Ten years later she would be in someone else’s arms, taking Nourishment from another male’s body. She would not see Valerius in her mind’s eye, she would not dream that it was he who kissed her, filled her, completed her. She could not afford to.
Curling into a small ball, the Healer sobbed herself to sleep.
*** *** *** ***
“Again.”
Sweat pouring down her face as though her very own storm cloud enfolded and followed her with its smothering rain, arms and legs quivering from exertion, muscles so sore they virtually screamed in protest, Sophia speared her opponent with a hatefilled glare.
Letting out a hearty roar that belied her bone-deep exhaustion, she charged at Dalair with her training spatha, her light leather shield discarded and forgotten somewhere behind her.
Easily, Dalair avoided her thrust by leaning an inch to one side. Without breaking movement, he shifted his body and used the rotation of his torso to reel Sophia in closer while harnessing her momentum to increase the velocity of her forward fall.
Without a body to absorb the force of her lunge, Sophia found herself pitching forward at an alarming speed. Before she could brace for impact, the ground rose up to meet her face.
Splat. Thud. Whimper. Groan.
She was so sick of that particular sequence of sounds.
“Get up,” came the unrelenting, unsympathetic voice of her tormenter.
“Go fuck yourself,” Sophia muttered against the cold hard floor, her squashed cheek making her words come out in a jumble. But he got the drift.
Dalair squatted on his haunches in front of her face, his crotch within jabbing distance, Sophia thought perversely. Too bad she didn’t have the strength to even attempt unmanning him.
“My Queen,” the Paladin said in his ever-serious tone, lest Sophia thought she was getting beat up for shits and giggles, “you are the weakest among the Dozen. You have the most to learn in a very short period of time. We can’t start at the beginning to teach you technique, we can only drill the responses in you through brute force and repetition.”
He paused, then said, “For every bruise and hit you receive, you can revisit that pain upon me twice over, whenever and however you choose to deliver it. I promise you that justice. But right now, you need to get up.”
Strengthened by the fantasy of her eventual revenge upon the Paladin, Sophia wobbled to her feet, picked up her sword and shield and took the combat stance he taught her.
Dalair took his position as well and crooked his hand.
“Again.”
Two hours later, Sophia flopped flat on her bed like wrung out rag
s. She was so exhausted she could barely breathe, but the weariness did not numb her countless aches, some in muscles she never knew she had.
Aella quietly came into her room and shut the door. The Amazon pushed Sophia to one side since the girl couldn’t move herself if she tried, and lay down on the massive bed beside her.
“Tough day?”
“Uhn,” came the incoherent reply.
“Hate him, huh?”
Growl.
Aella chuckled softly. “He’s just doing his job, he’s just trying to prepare you thoroughly for battles to come.”
“Ewil.”
“What?” Aella turned her head towards the young Queen.
“He evil. Likes torture.”
The Amazon looked back at the ceiling and kept her smile to herself. “You think he enjoys tossing you around and marking you with blue and black bruises?” “Uhn.”
“But you’ll have your revenge, right? Dalair is nothing if not fair-minded. Surely he will allow you your retribution.”
Some strange sounds came out of the teenager, half cackle half wheeze.
“Then just think of it this way,” Aella reasoned, “the stronger you get, the more potent your revenge.”
More cackling and wheezing.
“I can teach you a few cool tricks tomorrow,” Aella promised, “stuff that is guaranteed to bring any man to his knees.”
“Wuv you.”
Aella rolled to her side to face Sophia, reaching out one hand to smooth the unruly brown tresses from her face. Guilt and worry consumed her as she thought about the danger in which she placed her Queen – by design. She was gambling with Sophia’s life and she and Dalair both knew it. The Paladin barely resisted tearing off one of her limbs earlier when they’d had their happy confrontation before Dalair’s training session with Sophia. He didn’t agree with her methods, didn’t support her plan, but he understood why she put their Queen in such a precarious position.