by Aja James
She visibly relaxed and the rosy flush faded by a few degrees. Conversation seemed to help her find her aplomb. “You are twenty-six,” she recited, to level the informational field so to speak, “birthday just this Christmas Eve past.”
Gabriel nodded as he dug into his own two plates heaped with six eggs, four pieces of toast slathered with butter and jam and at least a pound of bacon.
Finally, he wanted food. It had been days since he’d had a meal.
“When’s your birthday?” he asked around a forkful of eggs.
“In the summer,” she replied, pausing in her own eating to watch him in fascination, as if she’d never seen a man chew before. “I don’t recall the exact date. In the ancient world, the calendaring was different, I’m not sure the date translation would be accurate.”
“Where are you from?” he continued to inquire, because that seemed like the next logical question, and he wanted her to keep talking because her voice was a joy to his ears and because he wanted to focus on devouring as much food as he could.
“I belonged to the Akkadian Empire, which spanned much of modern-day Middle East. I grew up in a valley at the base of the Silver Mountains in the Fertile Crescent.”
She tilted her head to regard him, again sharing a tidbit about his life that he didn’t realize she knew, “You were born in the City to Italian-Spanish missionaries and lived in China for a number of years before returning here.”
Gabriel paused in his chewing and said, “You seem to know a lot about me.”
“I do.”
No explanation as to how or why she knew. Just that she did.
Gabriel put his fork down. He could afford to wait a few minutes before starting on a second course. He needed to get a few things off his chest first.
“Thank you for saving me,” he said quietly, solemnly. “Again.”
Vaguely he recalled the fight by the river, slipping in and out of consciousness. Inanna finding him sprawled on the rocky shore. Carrying him to her vehicle. Bridge lamps flashing by as she drove them across the City. Infinitely gentle hands washing away the grime, the blood…
She looked into his eyes and became completely still, as if she were holding her breath.
“I’ve neglected to tell you that,” he continued. “I’ve felt… a number of emotions I haven’t felt before meeting you. It’s been a surreal few days. But I am grateful to be alive. To be able to take care of Benji, and God willing, to watch him grow into a good man.”
She held his gaze unblinkingly, but she did swallow, as if suppressing some intense emotion.
Gabriel looked down at his hands, and for a long while did not speak.
Dislocated images came to mind. Pieces of his childhood, meeting Olivia for the first time, rocking Benji to sleep as a baby. And other fragments that seemed like memories—waiting beneath a copse of tamarisk trees, walking beside a young girl with golden blond hair and rosy cheeks, grueling training with fighters he somehow knew then but didn’t know now.
He didn’t understand his life any more. Nothing made sense.
It was time to take back control.
Finally, Gabriel raised his head, as if coming to a decision.
“I want to know you,” he said, as if making a vow, his deep, husky voice sending shivers down her spine. “If you allow me, I want to know who you are, what… we are, what, if anything, I can do to make things right. The others said we are at war, and it has something to do with the fight clubs. I’m a fighter. I can help.”
He reached across the counter and extended his hand, palm up. “I want Benji to have a good future. A safe future. I think—no, I know—you want that too. So tell me. Teach me.”
She stared at his outstretched palm as if she’d never seen one before, but her own hand reached out of its own volition.
He grasped it and held on. “We are ‘married’, you and I. Mated. We’re partners, right?”
She blinked rapidly at their joined hands as a bittersweet emotion swelled in her throat, tearing her eyes.
Goddess above how she loved him!
For years she’d watched him from afar, seeing the kind of father he was to Benji, the husband he was to her friend.
The man he was.
A good, strong protector. Always giving, always loving. Perhaps she had loved him from the first and didn’t know it. Perhaps she had hidden the truth from herself. She felt now as if she had loved him forever, that she knew him in the depth of her soul.
She swallowed back the tears and took a deep, calming breath. This was a new beginning. For the first time since she was a very young girl, Inanna felt truly alive, not merely living.
“Yes,” she answered his vow. “I will tell you everything you need to know. We will face it all together.”
*** *** *** ***
Sophia and Aella entered their apartment in silence.
The Amazon knew better than to interrupt the young Queen’s contemplative mood with questions.
Aella had watched Sophia grow up step by step and probably knew her best of all the Dozen. She was sometimes a big sister, sometimes an indulging aunt, but always a close confidant and friend. She had seen all kinds of tantrums, emotional spats, sulking and mood swings.
But this was different.
There was an aura of sadness and longing, confusion and pain that hovered like a cheerless raincloud above Sophia’s head.
Aella did not know what was exchanged between the Paladin and the Queen, nor did she know the depth of their emotions—she doubted they knew themselves—but she did perceive that however their relationship had evolved over the years, their feelings were intense and complex and needed resolution.
Unfortunately, no one could help them sort it out; they had to do it themselves.
As such, Aella purposely stayed in the living area and turned on the TV as if she couldn’t wait to catch up on a Congressional broadcast on CNBC while Sophia trudged into their shared bedroom like a senseless zombie, climbed onto the top bunk and flopped face down on the coverlets.
What was going on with Dalair?
What was she going to do with Ere?
What did she feel for the two men?
What did it all mean??
The questions and permutations thereof kept circling each other like hungry vultures in Sophia’s imaginative teenage mind, while at the same time she felt complex, multi-layered emotions that didn’t seem to belong to an eighteen-year-old girl. They seemed to have developed and evolved over decades, centuries.
Even millennia.
Sophia was so torn and frustrated she could scream. She muffled her face in her pillow and did the muted version.
Not nearly as satisfying.
Her phone vibrated against her thigh as a new text came through.
“I am sorry I missed you, lovely Sophia.”
Ere.
Sophia immediately lifted up on her elbows and responded, “I saw you on the platform earlier. I was on the dance floor. Why didn’t you come down?”
A pause. Then, “You seemed preoccupied.”
Sophia did not know what to write back. She had indeed been preoccupied. She had not thought of Ere even once while she had Dalair in her sights, even though she was there at the club to meet another man.
“If I may be so bold as to ask—is he a friend?”
Sophia stared at her phone screen long enough for it to self-lock. “He used to be. I don’t know what he is any more,” she answered once she punched in the key code.
“He seems very important to you.”
Sophia considered the truth of this observation but neither confirmed nor denied it. It felt strange talking about Dalair with Ere. Especially with Ere.
“I’m sorry I was distracted,” she finally wrote. “I’d like to meet you some other time if you’re up for it.”
A long silence.
“Of course, lovely Sophia, we should meet.”
Perhaps it was a spurt of inspiration or a dig of conscience, for Sophia wrote next, “I’ll bring
Aella. You’ve met her—she’s my best friend, remember? She was also at the club with me last night.”
Another pregnant silence.
“Yes. You must bring your friend. I shall look forward to it.”
Sophia could almost see Ere’s rueful smile. If he had been flirting with her and was hoping for some private tête–à–tête, his plans had just been discouraged.
Not that Sophia thought he was flirting with her. Nor did she think she was in a position to discourage him. It’s just that she needed time to sort through her own feelings first, the most pressing ones centering on the Paladin.
Call her a two-timer and call her fickle, but it wasn’t like she wanted to feel these things toward Dalair. She wanted normality. She wanted to experience all the things average human teenagers experienced. Ere would have been the perfect crush. Beautiful, charming, sophisticated.
But as long as Sophia had these gut-wrenching, breath-stealing feelings for her sometime personal guard, Ere would have to wait.
*** *** *** ***
Gabriel sat in silence in the passenger seat of Nana Chastain’s luxurious ride, staring unseeingly out the window as she drove them across the City to Morningside Heights.
So much information to process. His head felt too tight for his jumbled thoughts.
He had gained basic knowledge about his race, the Dark Ones, their history, their relationship with humans and the Pure Ones, the Great War thousands of years ago, and the fragile truce they had maintained since that time.
She’d debunked many myths and lore that humans created about vampires. Dark Ones did not burn when exposed to sunlight and turn to ash; they simply felt the biological imperative to sleep and rest. Sometimes the pull was so strong, they could not stay awake even if they wanted to.
And they did not sleep in coffins in dark and dreary crypts, Gabriel was relieved to know, though of course every story had some basis in truth, however tenuous. Being sealed in complete darkness seemed to promote better rest, especially for the less powerful vampires. In ancient times, whence the practice originated, tombs were sacred, secure and luxurious. Many civilizations, across all social hierarchies, believed in living a richer afterlife.
In many ways, Dark Ones were animalistic and primal in their nature, with heightened senses, strength and powerful base urges. Compared to Pure Ones and humans, they were much more instinctual, sexual creatures. They relished the passion and drive to eat, drink, fight and fuck.
She had not put it in those terms, exactly, but Gabriel got the gist.
For all that, Dark Ones had an extremely sophisticated societal structure. At one time they had ruled all sentient beings. But the Great War had changed their place in civilization, perhaps permanently. They now stayed to the shadows and kept mostly to themselves within the confines of the Dark Laws. Those who strayed were mercilessly hunted down.
Garlic, crucifixes and the like had no special power over them. They did not adhere to one religious system since religions changed with the times and their race had existed across untold millennia and civilizations. The ancient ones among the race, however, did believe a Dark Goddess protected them, if not created them.
Not much was known beyond that.
Coming to the present, Gabriel downloaded what they knew about the fight clubs and how the chaos and violence were spreading. The dangers of this happening were manifold: civilian casualties, power concentrating in the wrong hands, destruction and social unrest, and last but not least, potential mass exposure of their two races to the public.
Maybe Armageddon really was upon them. It boggled the mind.
He also learned more about his Blooded Mate—his partner in this new phantasmagoric life. She was a warrior, one of the Chosen, the personal guard to the vampire Queen of New England, Jade Cicada.
Apparently, Gabriel would need to be presented to Her Majesty soon.
Or was it Her Highness? Her Worship? His Mate hadn’t used any honorifics when describing the Queen, so he supposed he could just follow her lead.
She told him about the rest of the Chosen warriors, as well as their Pure allies. Gave him a rundown of their backgrounds and abilities. Prepared him for what to expect. She wasn’t yet sure what it meant for her position on the Queen’s inner circle now that she was Mated.
One could never take anything for granted where Jade was concerned.
She confirmed what he had suspected about their bond as Blooded Mates. Their survival depended on each other: they were one another’s source of Nourishment.
Like a limitless supply of energy for an all but limitless rechargeable battery. They only needed to consume each other’s blood, no one else’s, Gabriel was relieved to know, and not with the same frequency as the daily meals they would still eat. They could survive as long as months without taking blood, but they would suffer dearly for the lapse.
She had not said how she’d lived before choosing him.
As for the sex… it was a case of “the more, the better.”
He could feel it very keenly.
Whenever he was near her, his body hummed, his senses buzzed, as if he were a human tuning fork vibrating to her specific pitch. And only to that pitch.
Just sitting next to her in the Lamborghini he was fully aroused. A shared sideways glance told him that she was too.
She cleared her throat, perhaps to distract them both from the palpable sexual heat between them.
“We need to tell Benji,”she said softly. “Because he is your… our son. He is now inextricably part of our world.”
Our son.
Somehow those two words sounded so right.
“Would we watch him grow up, grow old, and…” Gabriel couldn’t finish the thought, “While we stay as we are?”
For a long time she did not reply.
And then she said, “It is heart-wrenching, the loss. To watch loved ones wither away and disappear. I cannot even contemplate that for Benji. Every Dark One, and I suppose Pure One as well, deal with this consequence of longevity differently. Some prefer not to form attachments at all. They become isolated, jaded and devoid of joy. Death seems preferable to such a hopeless, lightless existence. For me, every soul has something to give, something to teach us, and it’s our responsibility—no, privilege—to give what we can, love when we can.”
Gabriel thought of Olivia. His time with her had not been fulfilling. He had tried his damnedest to make her happy, take care of her, lift her up, but he recognized in hind sight that it was never in his power to do so.
But if he could do it over again, he would still have made the same choices. Because he had made her life more bearable. He had sheltered a lost soul. It had been a worthwhile endeavor.
And because of Olivia, he was a father. He had Benji, who was happiness incarnate.
And through Olivia he met the female sitting next to him.
“You have suffered many losses over the course of your existence,” Gabriel stated rather than asked.
“True,” she returned, “but I have received many gifts of friendship and new beginnings. Life is so much more precious, is it not, when death hovers on the other side.”
“You are very courageous to know loss yet continue to love,” he said quietly.
“You give me too much credit,” she said, “I do not know how I would be if I ever fell in love. I think I am only brave enough to love once, and once and for all.”
I do not know if I could ever bear to lose you, Inanna thought to herself.
And then strangely she added in her head—never again.
“We have arrived.”
*** *** *** ***
“That is so cool! Way better than elves!”
Elves was what Benji called the Pure Ones.
Inanna and Gabriel exchanged a nonplussed look.
This conversation was not going as expected. But then why should they be surprised? Five-year-olds didn’t know the meaning of “impossible” yet. Of course there were vampires and elves. Maybe werewolves
and witches too.
“You mustn’t tell anyone,” Inanna reminded him, “it’s a secret, okay?”
Benji nodded vigorously, eyes like saucers. “I can keep a secret.”
Indeed he could. He was amazingly tight-lipped for one so young and unused to the ways of the world. He had kept Olivia and Inanna’s secret from Daddy, after all.
“But where are your fangs?” Benji asked, poking at Inanna and Gabriel’s upper lips with both his little hands. “Are you going to suck my blood?”
He didn’t seem too worried about that prospect, even seemed to relish the potential experience.
“No blood will be sucked,” Gabriel answered. At least not between anyone but himself and his Mate, and Benji didn’t need to know those details.
His son looked somewhat disappointed. “Then how can you say you’re vampires?”
Inanna smoothed golden curls from his brow, a gesture so affectionate and maternal, Gabriel’s heart skipped a beat.
Seeing her next to Benji, both with their golden blonde looks and large blue eyes, anyone would assume they were truly mother and son. And then there was the open adoration in their eyes when they beheld each other, something Gabriel had never seen between Benji and his biological mother, even after Olivia had turned over a new leaf with the onset of her cancer.
There were many different forms of love. Nana Chastain’s love for his son was true and abiding.
“One day, you will understand,” she said to Benji, and before he could interrupt, for his scrunched brow indicated he wanted to do just that, she continued, “That day will come sooner than you think. You have to be patient and watchful.”
She lowered her voice to a whisper and put her head against his. “It’s more fun when it’s a mystery, is it not?”
Benji seemed to agree with that logic. Sotto voce he asked, “Am I a vampire too?”
“No,” Inanna replied, while injecting her voice with new excitement, “you, my love, are a very, very special human.”
Benji seemed satisfied with that, grinning widely, because really, how could he feel otherwise when a beautiful golden goddess looked at him as if he were her entire universe.