Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

by Lindsey R. Loucks

  Dana looked at Ashra. “Do I return them to the city?”

  Ashra’s gaze drifted over the pinched faces of the humans. She shook her head. “They’ve seen too much.”

  Dana’s face tightened. “Do we kill them?”

  “After all the effort you went through to find six blood donors instead of one? No, we won’t kill them. Not yet. Put them in a cell. I do not want humans wandering through Malum Turris. If they give you any trouble, bring them back here and Lucas will turn them into vampires.” A glance at the humans confirmed that her threat, casually offered, was received with heartfelt terror.

  Dana nodded, dragged her ex-husband to his feet, and pushed him out the door. The other vampires followed her lead and escorted the shaken humans away.

  Ashra turned to Lucas. “You said Jaden is unlikely to survive.”

  “It’s been many years since I’ve treated a human, but I’ve never seen wounds as vicious as these. Even if we save his life, you need to be prepared for a long recuperation, and the possibility of irreparable damage to the muscles in his back or his spinal cord. He may never walk again.”

  “Is there nothing else you can do?” Ashra asked.

  “Turning him into a vampire is the only certain way to heal him.”

  “It is not what he wants.”

  Lucas shrugged. “We don’t always get what we want. The last time I checked, none of the vampires here were given a choice.”

  Ashra’s gaze rested on Jaden. “I don’t want to change what’s in him.”

  “Rohkeus’s soul?” Lucas snorted. “Do you really believe that?”

  “There are glimmers of Rohkeus—”

  “More than glimmers,” a voice cut in.

  Talon strode into the infirmary, a sardonic smile on his face. Clothes hung loosely on his thin frame, but he had washed off the grime of his imprisonment underground. His dark hair was damp, and the knots had been combed out of it.

  Lucas’s jaw dropped. He took several quick steps forward and grasped Talon’s hand. “Talon! My friend, how long has it been? How is it you are still alive?”

  “It’s been five hundred years, and my captivity might have been longer if Jaden hadn’t dragged me along in his insane bid for freedom.” He looked down at the unconscious human. “He speaks with his voice.”

  “Rohkeus?”

  Talon nodded. “The ring of command when he ordered me to him. The familiarity…the certainty that I would obey.” His eyebrows drew together, and he shook his head. “It was his voice—Rohkeus’s voice.”

  Lucas sighed. “Jaden offered you hope, and hope always takes the form of what we desire most.”

  “Are you calling me delusional?”

  Lucas chuckled. “I wouldn’t dare challenge an elder vampire—the only elder vampire—but I suspect you could use a transfusion after five hundred years of starvation. Lie down.”

  Talon stretched out in the pod beside Jaden. He frowned as he surveyed Jaden’s mangled back, but he said nothing. Lucas bustled about him, preparing the medical equipment to transfuse a cocktail of vampire and icrathari blood that Talon’s body would need to repair the damage from long-term deprivation.

  Ashra’s gaze shuttled between Talon and Jaden. Talon was an elder vampire, as ancient as Aeternae Noctis. Rohkeus’s blood had granted Talon immortality and superhuman strength, speed, and agility. With tenacity, Talon had honed it into a warrior’s skill. Next to Talon, Jaden lay still and silent, his fragile human body broken. His skill had been honed over a decade instead of a thousand years, yet he was no less a warrior.

  Far more important, if Talon had spoken the truth of his encounter, Jaden had the heart of a leader—the intuitive authority that commanded obedience—and the grace to wield that authority with compassion.

  She closed her eyes. Her shoulders shifted with a silent sigh. His skill, his grace, his beauty…the soul he bears is wasted in a human body. Yet, it is what he wants—to live and die a human.

  If he dies… Ashra’s mental voice faltered. She inhaled deeply. At least he brought Talon back to us.

  Ashra turned to the elder vampire. “When you’re rested, come to the chamber. I want your report.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Jaden awoke with a start. He shoved away from the pillow and mattress, and screamed as agony ripped down his back. Not even the soft warmth draped over him could dull the pain. He collapsed facedown on the bed, his hands clenched into fists.

  “Take it slow,” a deep and resonant voice said from behind him. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

  Lucky? He did not doubt that he was alive, though lucky was questionable. Every muscle in his body quivered from exhaustion and pain. Teeth gritted, Jaden raised his head as a vampire moved to stand in front of him. He recognized the vampire as the one he had seen in his early exploration of the tower, the one responsible for transforming the captured humans into vampires.

  Slowly, Jaden pushed up. The heavy weight of the woolen blankets fell away from his shoulders. He shivered, and a grim smile passed over his lips. At least he was still human enough to be susceptible to the cold. “What…where am I?”

  “The infirmary. I’m Lucas.”

  Jaden braced against the instinctive surge of hate and fear toward vampires, but nothing happened. His brow furrowing at his lack of reaction, Jaden looked up at Lucas. “I’m Jaden.”

  “I know. How do you feel?”

  “Ashra—”

  “She’s fine. What could hurt her? You, on the other hand, have demonstrated an amazing ability to survive encounters with species far more powerful than you.”

  Jaden’s hands curled into fists. He could still taste Ashra’s blood—bittersweet like honeyed wine, burning down his throat. He looked up at the vampire. “Did Ashra save me?”

  Lucas shrugged. “You would have died otherwise, though the blood transfusion from the other humans allowed you to stay human.”

  Other humans. Jaden pressed a hand across his right cheek. It was tender to the touch, as if bruised. A dull ache pulsed through his chest. His father had struck him. Jaden pressed a hand across his eyes to block out the image of what his father must have seen—his mouth pressed against Ashra’s wrist, his throat working as he suckled greedily at her golden blood. What have I become?

  The people of Aeternae Noctis had a description for what he had become—a blood slave. The term was issued with a spit and a curse for the weak-willed humans captivated by the intoxicating power of a vampire’s blood. Useless to man and beast, ignored by the vampires, and cast out by the humans, the blood slaves wandered the forests at the fringe of the city. Those humans, entrapped in unthinking adoration of their indifferent vampire masters, eventually faded away from thirst and starvation.

  Jaden gritted his teeth against the despair that swamped him. Unthinking adoration. No other words more accurately described his irrational attraction to Ashra. She’s not even human, and her kind has enslaved humans for a thousand years.

  A traitorous voice whispered through his mind. Or did the icrathari save us?

  Biting back a gasp of pain, he straightened. The muscles in his back tugged against his spine. He squeezed his eyes shut as the world spun around him.

  Lucas shrugged and stepped back. “If you’re so determined to get up, you might as well attend the council meeting. Hold still. You’ll need something to stabilize your injured back.”

  Jaden’s arm and shoulder muscles trembled from the strain of holding himself upright as Lucas lathered another layer of soothing salve over his back, and then wrapped thick bandages around his torso. When his task was complete, the vampire knelt and searched in a cabinet, before turning around to toss a change of clothes at Jaden. “Your clothes and armor are beyond salvage, but these should fit.”

  With Lucas’s help, Jaden dressed and left the infirmary. The vampire stood close and offered Jaden a steadying hand when he stumbled, as he did frequently. Lucas shook his head. “You shouldn’t even be up. Ashra will stake me if y
ou injure yourself further.”

  “I’ll be careful.” He had to get to Ashra; he had to tell her about the man—human or vampire—he had seen in the daevas' cave; a man who had, with an indifferent wave of his hand, commanded thousands of daevas.

  Lucas led Jaden to a platform without doors or walls. The vampire’s slender fingers danced over a glowing console, and the platform smoothly shifted into motion. The vampire chuckled, low and amused, when Jaden flinched. “It’s an elevator,” he said as it ascended through the levels of Malum Turris. “Didn’t you use it when Ashra took you to the ark?”

  Jaden shook his head. “No, she flew down.”

  Lucas laughed aloud. “Tera is our most adept aerial warrior, but Ashra is almost as capable. Their hair-raising turns through the corridors of Malum Turris are often enough to make an elder vampire doubt his immortality.”

  At the mention of an elder vampire, Jaden looked up. “You’re not an elder vampire, are you?”

  “No, Talon is the only elder vampire, and he was transformed before the apocalypse. Since then, Siri has attempted to transform humans into elder vampires, but all the transformations failed.”

  “And the immortali are the results of failed transformations?”

  “That’s right. They did not survive the trial.”

  “The trial?”

  “After a full transfusion of pure icrathari blood, the transformation from human to elder vampire or immortali takes at least six hours. To protect the city from the psychotic rage of an immortali, we bury the human outside Aeternae Noctis. If, by chance, the transformation succeeds, the elder vampire would have the wits and skill to return to the city. An immortali, however, will forever wander the Earth, if it emerges from the ground at all.”

  “How does it survive?”

  Lucas chuckled. “Rather uncomfortably, I imagine. Vampires and elder vampires will die if the injuries they sustain exceed their self-healing capabilities, but uninjured, they can live indefinitely. Sustenance—blood—is required only to heal from injury, and under those circumstances, icrathari blood is far preferable to human blood. The stronger the blood, the faster we heal, as I’m sure you’ve already found out.”

  Jaden exhaled, releasing his breath in a soft sigh. “So what are humans to you?”

  “To me and to many of the other vampires and icrathari, a nuisance. To Ashra, a responsibility that no one can convince her to abandon. More than once, her commitment to the humans was all that kept them alive after a rebellion.”

  “Rebellion?”

  “Do you think you’re the first generation to challenge the icrathari? Yuri, the vampire who now leads the rank of our warriors, was the leader of the last citywide rebellion. The icrathari crushed the rebellion and found other uses for her talent.”

  “By turning her against the humans she used to fight for?”

  Lucas met Jaden’s gaze. “Yuri is a vampire, but she still fights for the humans. You’ve seen the world outside Aeternae Noctis—the daevas, the immortali. Yuri and the other vampires defend the city. We defend the people we once were.” He shrugged. “I shouldn’t expect you to understand, though. No human has, not since the founding of Aeternae Noctis.” The platform stopped, and Lucas stepped off the elevator and into a massive circular chamber before turning to offer Jaden a helping hand.

  “Jaden.”

  He looked up at Ashra’s voice, the now-familiar breath of silk over steel.

  A gathering of vampires and icrathari parted to allow Ashra to pass. “What are you doing here? You were barely alive three hours ago.” The glow of her golden eyes was gentle and without guile. Her lips curved with the hint of a sweetly unself-conscious smile.

  Blood slave, a part of his mind mocked him. He hesitated.

  Her smile faltered. Her eyes widened. Surprise and hurt flickered through their depths.

  Blood slave or no, he could still resist her, and he hurt her when he did.

  His conscience tugged. His heart quivered under the assault of the truth. She had challenged an entire clan of daevas to save him. She had taken far more risks for him than he had for her.

  Trusting his instincts, he tugged away from Lucas and walked into the icrathari’s embrace. He pressed his cheek against her hair, and the scent of jasmine and hyacinth wafted toward him. He winced when her arms pressed lightly against his back. The throb of raw agony was muted, but noticeable. “The pain reminds me I’m alive,” he said softly.

  A low chuckle emerged from the ranks of the vampires. Ashra laughed too, a quiet sound. With an arm wrapped around his lean waist, she turned and led him toward the others. “You know Talon, of course.” She indicated the elder vampire with a nod of her head.

  Talon’s grin was sardonic, his dark eyes narrowed. He still appeared thin, but his skin had a healthy flush. Blood. Jaden fought down the instinctive rush of horror. Strong blood. Icrathari blood, not human blood.

  Ashra introduced the three icrathari—two female, one male. “Tera, Siri, and Elsker.”

  Jaden recognized Tera as the icrathari warlord who had effortlessly defeated him. Her black leather bustier and pants were not armor, but they were far more practical than the gauzy dress Ashra wore. Tera’s eyes were like shards of steel, and her thin lips pressed into a tight line. Like Ashra, she was slender, but there was an appearance of wiry strength to her that Ashra lacked. Appearances, however, as Jaden knew well, were deceiving in a race where strength was a function of age, not training.

  Tera offered him a cool nod. Her acceptance would be slow in coming.

  Siri’s slight smile was more welcoming, though still guarded. Her red velvet dress clung to a curvaceous body, and her short hair framed her face. Unlike Ashra, whose horned wing joints were encased in gold, and Tera’s encased in steel, Siri’s wing joints were exposed. The bones gleamed, a polished and creamy ivory set against the jet-black of her leather wings.

  Ashra spoke. “Tera leads our warriors and scouts. Siri manages the medical, research, and engineering teams of Aeternae Noctis. Elsker is my adviser.”

  The sole male icrathari, dressed in a black silk shirt and linen pants, extended his hand to Jaden. His handshake was firm and his smile steady. “Welcome back, Jaden.” His voice was smooth, a melodic tenor, and his touch offered the familiarity of friendship. His pale blue eyes glowed with warmth and a welcome that both Tera and Siri had withheld. “It’s been a long time.”

  Had Elsker and Rohkeus been close friends? Jaden did not doubt it.

  “And these are the vampires who run the daily operations of Aeternae Noctis. You’ve met Lucas, who oversees the infirmary. Phillip is our lead scientist. He also manages the ark. Xanthia is our engineer; she keeps Aeternae Noctis in the air.”

  Jaden’s gaze lingered on each of the three vampires in turn. All appeared in their late-fifties; Lucas, Phillip, and Xanthia had been transformed later in life. Their hard-won human knowledge and expertise in their chosen fields were seized by the icrathari and immortalized in service of the city.

  Ashra continued the introductions. “Yuri leads the vampires who defend the city.”

  Unlike Lucas, Phillip, and Xanthia, Yuri appeared scarcely older than Jaden. Apparently, the confidence and insolence that had inspired her rebellion against the icrathari had not been fully purged from her. Her stance was proud, and she carried herself with the careless grace of a trained warrior. Like Tera, to whom she reported, she wore her hair in a braid down her back.

  Ashra gestured at the fifth vampire in the room, a slight woman dressed in practical black leather armor, not unlike what Jaden had worn. “And this is Dana Hunter.”

  Dana Hunter?

  Jaden stiffened. His eyes locked on Dana. Her emerald eyes—so much like his own—glowed with love, but her stance remained closed. Her fingers were interlaced, locked together in front of her chest in an attitude of prayer. Her slim frame trembled.

  Could it be? His heart pounded in his chest. His mind whirled, his thoughts too fragmented to grasp. He
took an unsteady step forward. A single word emerged from his lips. “Mother?”

  Her throat worked as she swallowed hard. Dana nodded.

  “Mother.” He tried the word again. The second time, his voice quavered less. Two quick steps placed him in front of her.

  Dana opened her arms, enfolding him in an embrace he had not felt for twenty-three years.

  He buried his face against her hair. “You’re alive,” he whispered. His mind spun. His version of reality shattered. Like molten glass, the fragments reshaped around the woman who had once anchored him, his mother.

  She nodded. Her hands stroked his hair. Her chest heaved against his, and soft sobs emerged from her throat. She said nothing.

  He released his breath in a sigh and surrendered to the swirling chaos of reactions that buffeted him. The questions would have to wait until he was collected enough to tease his emotions apart and form coherent sentences. After a long moment, he pulled back and stared into the face that had previously existed only in his hazy memories.

  “I never thought I would see you again. You—” He chuckled. Wry humor shielded him from the necessity of delving any deeper into his thoughts. “You were the vampire who accompanied Ashra to my cell.”

  The corner of Dana’s mouth tugged into a smile. “You hit me and ran.”

  Ashra laughed softly. “He hit us both.”

  Dana looked back at her son. “You’ve lost your fear of us.”

  Jaden managed a thin smile. “I’ve learned that there is a great deal more to fear.”

  Tera pushed away from the wall and paced the chamber. “The daevas won’t be a threat for much longer. Now that we know where they are, we can take them out.”

  “You can’t. There are thousands of them.”

  Tera spun on him. Her gray eyes blazed. “What?”

  “I saw thousands of daevas in the caves.”

  “That’s impossible. The daevas are descended from the four icrathari who did not enter Aeternae Noctis, and icrathari do not breed easily. There cannot be thousands of them. You’re mistaken.” Tera’s voice snapped like a steel trapping slamming shut.