Ashes to Ashes

by Carrie F. Shepherd

  “You are dismissed.” Prince Paul said, raising his hand and waving it at Iykva to excuse him.

  Almost offended by the rudeness of the gesture, Iykva bowed to him. He then turned to Jamiason, realized the demon King was still watching him, and bowed even lower.

  He didn’t like the darkness buried within Jamiason’s cold blue eyes.

  He didn’t like it even one little bit.

  “Your Highness.” He turned to Prince Paul and bowed. “My Prince.”

  As swiftly as possible, he turned to walk toward the closed doors. The twins stepped to the center where they met, turned the knobs and pushed the doors open.

  Iykva had never been so grateful to leave a room in the full of his immortal life.

  -14-

  “Leave us.” James barked at the twins before turning to Paul. The twins, ever obedient, did as they were bid. “What do you think of Iykva’s proposal?”

  “That it’s pure shit.” Paul shrugged. “What else would I think of it?”

  Jamiason felt his lips wanting to twitch into a smile. Now was not the time to be amused by Paul’s infallible sense of humor and mortal bred ways, however. There were important matters to discuss. “What do you mean to do about it?”

  “I told him we have to meet with the elves.” Paul suddenly wore a confused expression. “What more can I do?”

  “Maybe nothing.” Jamiason pushed himself off of his throne and onto his feet. “Maybe much.” His expression hard, he turned to face Paul. “I cannot condone it. You must understand that.”

  “I do.” Paul looked swiftly away.

  “Whatever you have to say to me,” Jamiason’s eyes narrowed, “say it.”

  “Louis says—”

  “Louis says.” Jamiason snorted and turned away from him. “Louis is possessive. And has long coveted your position at my side.”

  “Yes, your Highness.”

  “Stop it.” James growled at Paul. “We’re alone.”

  Paul’s eyes darted to the door, where they both knew the twins stood, hovering on the other side so that they might eavesdrop. James waved his hand at the door, not caring if they overheard. They may be snoops, but they weren’t spies. Anything that was said between Jamiason and Paul would remain between Jamiason and Paul.

  “James . . .” Paul’s tone was one of guarded disdain. “We can’t stand against our own people to protect the elves.”

  “Standing against them and preventing them from making a fundamental—and unforgiveable—error are two different things.” James responded to this, his pacing coming to a halt as he glared at Paul. “There is nothing overt that we can do. I agree. This doesn’t mean we cannot act where we might.”

  Paul rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You and I?”

  “And the twins.” Jamiason shrugged.

  “The twins.” Paul scoffed. “You jest.”

  “Not about my twins.”

  Yes, the boys had been made into vampires at too young an age. But they were made with his God’s blood. As such, they were more powerful than any other vampire—demon or otherwise—in any one of the many worlds.

  Never mind that James knew, without any doubt, that they would never betray him.

  “I do not understand your infallible faith in them.” Paul admitted. “But I’ve little and less choice other than to trust you.”

  “No.” Jamiason agreed. “You don’t.” He made his way to his throne again and lowered himself within it before turning to face Paul. “You and I must palaver with them. Employ them. They are stealthy and crafty. And, given their youth, they will be underestimated in their guile.”

  Paul rolled his eyes closed and bent his neck back. “Now I see.”

  “Good.” Jamiason muttered. “Because I need you to see. I need you to understand.” Paul raised his head and met Jamiason’s gaze. “This is not a game, Paul. If we lose this battle of the wits with Iykva and his clan, we are, all of us, damned.”

  -15-

  Loki sat back in his chair, sated from the last slice of the pie that Ishitar had baked for him. He wasn’t one for sweets. As such, I suspect that his desire to eat every last bite of the damn thing was puzzling to him.

  Smiling, he patted his belly. He was clearly full. After Aiken’s savory stew and Ishitar’s damn pie, how could he feel anything otherwise?

  His burp, as he leaned forward to look at the paperwork on his desk, was followed by a crooked smile.

  “My Lord?”

  Loki looked upward and grinned at his demon. “Sam! You missed a wonderful meal.”

  “Forgive me.” Samyael smiled at him. “I was distracted in the Courtyard.”

  Loki smiled warmly at him. “It is your day off.”

  “You have a guest.” Sam advised him, still smiling. “Dame Sappharon.”

  “Sappharon?” He started. “Here?”

  Sam nodded. “She tells me it is important that she speaks with you immediately.”

  Loki’s brow furrowed as he considered how she had told Sam anything. Though he understood her sign language because of the time he had spent with Lucias, he had never taught it to his demon. “Send her in.”

  Samyael bowed and took his leave.

  Several shifts later a woman who looked like Sappharon stepped in.

  But it wasn’t Sappharon. She didn’t have the wings of a demon, for one thing. For another, her face was slightly different. Her nose was less delicate and her chin was squared.

  Never mind that she had breasts which swelled large and ripe, drawing his eyes to them as a hungry grin played upon his lips. Sappharon’s girlish tits were small and nearly non-existent.

  It was as he was staring at her breasts that understanding seemed to dawn upon him. “Na’amah.”

  She grasped the tattered rags she wore as a skirt and gave him a clumsy curtsey. “My Lord.”

  “What are you thinking, child?” He asked her. “Have you been seen?”

  “I do not believe so.” She swallowed and raised her fiery gaze to meet his. “I seek your succor. Will you grant it to me?”

  “Ta.” No hesitation. “Damn it.” He shook his head. “Of course I will, girl. Won’t you sit?”

  “I do not mean to trouble you, my Lord.” Her tone was desperate as she found her seat. “But I am frightened. I haven’t heard a single word from—or about—met Mome for many thousands of passes of the morning sun and—”

  “She’s well.” Loki assured her. “She’s with Lucias.”

  Her relief was palpable as her expression relaxed from fear to hope. “Thank every one of the Gods.”

  “You’re a waif.” This was said with some hesitation as his eyes flicked to the huge swell of her breasts. Her cheeks were sunken and her waistline thin, but there was no denying the natural figure she wore buried beneath the rags of her clothes. “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes.” She nodded, licking her lips. “I am famished.”

  He looked to the open library door and then returned his gaze to her. Given his house was currently full of unexpected company, this was not the safest place for her to be.

  “Na’amah.” He said, his tone gentle. “I will protect you. But I cannot do so while you wear your mother’s face.”

  “No?” Her voice trembled slightly.

  “May I suggest that, for now, you take on another form?” He offered. Her eyes flashed with offense. He raised his hands to her. “Only for now. Until I can ensure your safety.”

  She lowered her face as if she were looking at her feet. Then, almost hesitantly, she nodded. “If you tell me that this is the only way, then I shall agree to your command and form myself as a dog—as your pet.”

  “It is.” He assured her. “There are others staying with me right now and—though I believe they are honorable and you will be safe—I cannot guarantee my protection over you if they learn what you are.”

  Granting him a doubtful smile, she complied.

  -16-

  Na’amah followed Lord Loki through his apart
ment to his kitchen. The demon who had opened the door to her sat at the table eating from a bowl and talking to a fairy. A third man sat at the table with his chin on his bent knuckles, his eyes shifting from one to the other of the other two as he listened, with an interested smile, to their bantering conversation.

  His face was blindingly familiar to her.

  But, then, why wouldn’t it be?

  It was Lord Regent Lucias’ face to the smallest detail. The only reason she knew that it wasn’t Lord Lucias was because the man wearing it had light brown hair and eyes.

  “Is there any lamb left?” Lord Loki asked the room at large. “For the mutt?”

  All three of them turned their eyes to Na’amah. She found herself scooting closer to Lord Loki’s leg. She was grateful to him when he bent down and patted her head. It was the fairy who turned his gaze toward Lord Loki and gave him a smile. “No. But if she isn’t picky then there’s a leg bone in the cupboard she can gnaw on.”

  Lord Loki snorted. “Whose leg?”

  “I had to execute a rapist.” The fairy shrugged. “I saw no need to let the meat spoil.”

  “You are disturbed.” Lord Loki muttered as he turned toward the cooling cupboard.

  “Where did you get a dog?” The demon asked as he found his feet and lowered himself at Na’amah’s side. His large black eyes were sparkling with pleasurable greed as he reached for her muzzle to stroke her, and his thick lips were split into a wide grin. “Did Dame Sappharon give her to us?”

  “She asked us to look after her.” Lord Loki agreed in amused tones as he pulled the leg out of the cupboard and threw it on the counter. I know that he views Samyael as more of a friend then a servant. That Na’amah’s presence so obviously made the demon happy pleased him. “Aiken, for the love of all that’s obscene. You chop this damn thing up for her. I can’t bring myself to do it.”

  The fairy, shrugging again, stood. “You know, for such a masculine creature, you certainly do have a weak constitution.”

  The third man chuckled and shook his head. “You could have at least removed the foot.”

  “I intend to.” Aiken replied to that. “But not until I’m ready to boil it.”

  The demon stuck his tongue out, disgusted, as he ran his hand upward so that he could scratch Na’amah between her ears. “What’s your name, girl?”

  “A good question.” Lord Loki replied as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you think we should call her?”

  “Ansibrius.” The man who looked like Lord Regent Lucias muttered. “From the ancient text. It means my son’s protector.” He stood and walked toward her, lowering himself beside the demon so that he could look into her eyes. “Did my mother send you to watch over me?”

  Lord Loki shifted uncomfortably at Na’amah’s side. Without meaning to, she whined.

  “I bet she did.” The young God grinned at her and looked up at Lord Loki, a rare, and very greedy, expression brightening his features. “May I please keep her, Loki? Might I call her mine own? I’ve never had a pet before.”

  “I don’t mind.” Lord Loki replied as his eyes danced to Na’amah. “It would be better for her, to be certain. You can take her to see Sappharon when you visit your mother.”

  Na’amah barked her pleasure at that sentiment and began wagging her tail. This made the man who looked like Lucias smile.

  And what a pleasing smile it is at that.

  The handsome young God stood and reached for the meat that the fairy had cut up. Once it was in his hand, he began walking out of the room. She looked at Lord Loki, who indicated the young God with his chin, telling her she should follow him.

  She barked at Lord Loki and then turned to chase after the younger one.

  He led her to a bedchamber and sat on the bed. He patted the mattress beside himself and laid out the meat. Starving, she jumped upward and devoured every piece.

  “Good girl.” He said as he reached for her and scratched her between the ears. “Good Ansibrius.”

  She raised her snout and leaned toward him. He grinned at her and began stroking her muzzle. Comforted by his large hands, she reached toward him and licked his face. In an oddly childlike way he burst into laughter and threw his arms around her neck to pull her close.

  “My name is Ishitar.” He whispered. “And I will take the best of care of you for all of the rest of your days. It is my undying promise to you.”

  Understanding that he wouldn’t be saying this if he knew what she was, she backed slightly away from him and barked.

  It was a promise that she would never hold him to, because it was a promise that he would never be able to keep.

  -17-

  Corline buried her hands in the dirt and grinned. She found deep satisfaction in digging up the soil and planting the vegetables that she knew Lord Loki would crave with his meals.

  Distracted by her task to please Lord Loki and Lady Lucias, she failed to sense the presence of danger.

  She felt the sting of a bug’s bite. She didn’t know, of course, that this was no bug’s bite at all, but a tranquilizing dart sent from the traditional blow dart gun of the bronzies, who had sought to claim her.

  As the world spun around her, Corline shook her head, trying desperately to clear her mind.

  Unable to, she fell forward.

  No longer a threat, the bronzies took her for the sole purpose of adding her to the attractions of their carnival so that they could breed her.

  -18-

  Finding Lucias brooding in her library, Sappharon approached the Goddess very cautiously. “My Lady?”

  Lucias flicked her dark brown eyes upward and gave Sappharon a frustrated frown. “What is it, brat?”

  “Are you alright?” She asked.

  Lucias sighed and shook her head. “No.” She muttered. “Corline’s pack appears to have moved on. She must have opted to migrate with it.” Then, in frustrated tones, “And bearing Loki’s child!”

  Sappharon raised her hand to respond and then lowered it again. She thought it best not to say what was truly on her mind. Knowing the bitch was gone made her happy. Lucias wouldn’t have wanted to know that. “I’m sorry for your pain.”

  “I knew when I took her for Loki that it would eventually happen.” She’s sighed. “She’s mortal. And a true blooded benandanti werewolf. The packs must migrate with their prey. I only wish that she would have allowed me the courtesy of having told me that she was leaving us before she did so.”

  Sappharon nodded. “Perhaps it broke her heart to be forced to choose between you and Loki or her pack and she was unable bear the goodbye.”

  Lucias gave her a strange smile. She was surprised that the demon was being understanding of her feelings, rather than flippant or rude, because this was the manner in which Sappharon normally responded where Loki’s mortal geese came to concern. “Perhaps you’re right.”

  “Is there anything that I might do to ease your pain?”

  Lucias’ eyes danced over Sappharon’s face. Sappharon felt a blush rise to her cheeks under her silent regard. Finally, Lucias said, “I beg you to promise me, right here and now, that you shall never leave me.”

  Sappharon started at that. She couldn’t imagine a life that did not include her beloved Lady. Her hands, when she responded, were snappish with her offense at the mere thought that Lucias might believe she would. “Never in life.”

  Lucias nodded and held out her hand. “Come, brat. Sit with me.”

  Eager for any attention she might be granted, Sappharon stepped forward and grasped her Mistress’ hand. Lucias raised it to her lips and kissed it as she guided Sappharon into the seat next to hers.

  When she spoke, it was in cautious tones. “I have something I must tell you.” She said. “And it is probably something that will anger you.”

  Sappharon steeled herself, ready for anything.

  Or so she thought.

  Though she should have seen it coming after Metatron’s visit, nothin
g could have prepared her for Lucias’ news.

  “I’ve been with Loki.” She said, her eyes assessing Sappharon’s face so she might garner her reaction. “I wish to become pregnant with his child.”

  Sappharon flew the hand that was holding Lucias’ away and glared at her. The very idea was madness.

  “Please understand, Sappharon.” Lucias beseeched her, “It isn’t something that I am doing on a lark. I have my reasons.”

  “You always have your reasons for what you do.” Sappharon signed desperately at her. “But this is madness. Noliminan will never stand for you bearing the fool’s child!”

  Lucias assessed Sappharon for a long, almost painful minute before looking swiftly away. When she spoke, her tone was resolved.

  “He will not interfere.” She assured Sappharon. “He will understand my game play for what it is.”

  “He will consider your bedding Loki a betrayal.” Sappharon disagreed, “My Lady—”

  “Sappharon.” Lucias shook her head. “He won’t. He’ll see it for what it is. My nymph being set into play on the board.”

  Sappharon’s brow furrowed at that. “Your pawn?”

  Lucias gave her the barest ghost of a smile.

  “Sappharon,” she reached for Sappharon’s cheek and set her palm against it. “Isn’t that all he has ever been?”

  Sappharon, turning her gaze to the kings’ board, felt her lips curl at their corners into what became her first true smile in as many years as she could remember.

  -19-

  When Jeanir heard the bell start to ring in the village center, he lowered the book that he had been reading and scowled at his cottage door.

  It was far too soon for any of the children in the village to even find the knife, let alone be put up for barter.

  He uncrossed his long legs and stood, smoothing his skirt over his thighs as he rose and running his fingers through his long, braided hair in an effort to comb it. He gave his wings a quick shake to lose any loose feathers and then stormed through the room. He stepped onto the porch, pulled his door closed with no sense of delicacy and skipped down the stairs to the small path that led from his patio to the Great Road.